#eyes MADE fir gazing at other men lovingly
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genuinely WHY is he looking at hot priest like that????? i feel like i'm intruding 😳🫣
#sami rambles#i close my eyes i see it perfectly burned into the back of my eyelids#911 spoilers#eddie diaz#eyes MADE fir gazing at other men lovingly
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Forest Fires and Hurricanes
Pairing: Eugene Roe x Fem!Reader
Warnings: some angst, some steamyness, some cursing, and some bad french translation
A/N: This is an adaptation of the actor’s portrayals and not the actual honorable and respectable veterans.
Word Count: 2600 ish
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“Doc, I swear it’s just a scratch. I swear.” Y/N rested on a slipshod cot that had housed too many injured soldiers. The material was torn and stained with dry blood and one of the legs was on the verge of snapping. The smell of rubbing alcohol and sweat filled her nostrils while the sound of heavy artillery and her own foot being wrapped in gauze filled her ears. The only source of light in the small medic station was a keroscene lamp that was being encircled by moths eager for a portion of the sacred treasure. Despite the the brightness issue, Y/N could easily make out the focused expression of her friend and the company’s medic, Eugene Roe. Y/N couldn’t help but associate his dark eyes with dry wood. On the outside they appeared drab and dreary but once ignited with passion became a powerful flame.
“If a clear fracture is what you call a scratch, then yes, you have a scratch.” Eugene attempted to keep the playful remark to himself but his rough voice abandoned his normally closed mouth. “Your toe is swollen and not its normal shape. I want you to take it easy for a while.”
Y/N had a plethora of reasons why she should do the exact opposite of what he just asked but none were able to slip past her tongue. Her embarrassment of the accident left her too timid to a mutter a word.
“How did this even happen Y/L/N?” Gene asked not looking up as he tended to her pinky toe as it ached to be healed.
Y/N didn’t injure her toe on the hell that was D-Day. Y/N didn’t even get a paper cut in Carentan. Neither Eindhoven nor the crossroads did she feel any jabs. But her luck quickly betrayed her in a small Dutch town just shy of the Ardennes. It wasn’t even in the fields! “I was walking Talbert’s dog, Trigger, and he somehow got loose from his leash. I ran after ‘em but I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going and just like that, I collided with something hard. Turns out I stubbed my toe real bad on a dorm frame.
Roe tilted his head downwards to get a better angle at Y/N’s injury but Y/N could tell by the movement of his shoulders that Gene was trying to cover up his chuckles. “I guess that means no purple heart, huh?”
Y/N rolled her eyes but the genuine curve of her lips betrayed her. “I guess not but I can feel my good luck changing. Today I got…” Y/N paused for dramatic effect. “… a hangnail.”
“You have got to be kidding.”
“I wish I was! But seriously, everything that could of gone wrong, went wrong today. I mean for Christ’s sake, I feel like this cot is going to break any second and I’m gonna fall on my ass.”
Eugene was about to offer a rebuke but the interruption of his fellow comrade stopped him. Vest entered the medic station with a substantial amount of envelopes occupying his arms. He smiled. “The Dear John letters have arrived.” He rifled through his stack and tossed three to Eugene. “Go crazy.”
Vest furrowed his brows as he searched. He let out a huff and he set the envelopes on a nearby table. “I could have swore I saw something for you. Y/L/N are you expecting anything?”
Gene felt Y/N’s body go stiff at his question. He looked up just in time to notice the clouds begin to darken and the wind pick up speed. Her sails should of been lowered but instead were inflated and shaking violently. The rough waters struck the hull and at any given moment the ship was sure to capsize. The thin line that was her lips struggled to open as she muttered “I… I don’t believe so.”
Y/N avoided her gaze in the direction of Vest and his letters and turned her head toward Eugene’s stern glance. His eyes searched for an explanation to her reaction as if the answer could solve the world’s biggest mysteries. If only Gene could feel a sliver of what was going through her head. His heavy gaze should of made her uncomfortable but all it did was ground her and calm her waters. It offered her a nostalgic feeling of the old pine trees that grew in her backyard.
“Oh here it is. Knew there was something in here for you. Here you go.” Vest grinned as he handed Y/N a small white envelope before exiting the room to deliver the rest of his bundle.
Y/N let her eyes roam the jumble of letters sprawled across the envelope. Her index finger outlined each and every character as if the action could make the words clearer. She gently opened the envelope like it was gold, ignoring its disposability. The letter unfolded at her shaky touch and her calloused fingers grazed the paper like it was a fine harp.
Gene let his own letters go completely unnoticed as Y/N’s frustration took center stage of his attention. The area above her eyebrows creased like waves crashing in the sea and caused a ripple effect that reached her frown. That same sea was once tranquil and delightful but was now inhabited by a dangerous hurricane that no brave sailor should dare venture into.
But Gene was willing to take that risk. “Are you alright, Y/L/N?” He asked softly afraid that the storm would release a flood of rain or a gust of cold wind if startled. “Never better.” Y/N replied without a moment’s hesitation. Gene didn’t buy her answer even for a second. He could tell a storm was brewing.
Roe gently placed his hand on the girl’s knee and tenderly kneaded the skin just above her kneecap. He tried to meet her gaze afraid if he didn’t offer her reassurance, she would sink and never resurface. “Y/N, what’s in the letter?” His tone was demanding but lacked harshness or volume because he hoped the use of her given name was enough to get his point across.
Despite Eugene’s efforts, they were no match for Y/N’s stubbornness and pride. Already feeling the storm surge gain height, Y/N tightly closed her eyes and exhaled. She crumpled the letter in the palm of her hands until it was much smaller than its original form. Just a few moments earlier she treated the piece of paper with mother’s care but now it was worthless in her eyes. “Nothing. It’s not anything important.”
“Y/N…” Eugene’s voice didn’t lose its composure. “Just tell me what’s in the letter.”
Y/N opened the slits of her eyes and were met with Gene’s solemn ones. The winding pine forest the circled his pupils was now ablaze in a spreading wildfire. It was terrifying enough to make Y/N release her grip on the paper. “Please, Roe, drop it.”
Eugene could sense the anger, sorrow, and fear wash over her features like a flash flood. Quick and unable to be stopped. In spite of this, he was willing to take his boat through rough and raging waters. “Y/N/N, what was in the letter? Tell me what it said.”
“No, Gene.” Y/N’s voice became desperate as she felt a crack in the levees. “No.”
“Y/N, I promise whatever it says, I won’t think any less of you. Tell me what was in the letter and I promise you, I will help with anything you need. You just have to tell me.” Another crack.
“Eugene… just… please stop. Leave me alone.”
“I can’t stand to see you like this with your eyes on the verge of tears and a frown on your face. I have seen grown men give out cries but I was able to give them morphine and the sobs would subside. But with you… I just don’t know what to do. I need to help you because that’s all you ever do for me.” Another crack.
Eugene stood up from the foot of the cot and kneeled down by Y/N so he was face to face with the girl. Y/N tilted her head to her lap and avoided Roe’s somber irises. The forest fire dwindled as a thundercloud released fresh rain upon the earth. The fresh water hydrated the dry, brown soil and filled the rivers that ran down his pink cheeks inhabited by a rose garden. The delicate rose petals that danced their way below his eyes to the tip of his nose and ears became submerged by a refreshing shower. The thorns laced with worry, frustration, and fear were washed away never to be seen again.
As Y/N balled up the letter in her palms, Gene lovingly placed his hand on Y/N’s and unraveled her fist. He took her hand and traced every knuckle and every crevice. That same hand had pulled the trigger that ended a man’s life. That same hand had been an access for cigarettes to touch her lips. That same hand had torn and ripped many other letters in the past. That same hand was the hand that Gene kissed delicately with such respect and love. Another crack.
“Please, Y/N, I am so grateful for all of the happiness and laughter you have managed to give me on my bad days. You always seem to find a way to wash away my worries… and I… it just kills me that I can’t give you that same thing. Just please, let go, you’re drowning. Let me help you… I love you.”
That was the final crack. The dam split in two and the levees breached.
Y/N released her tight grip of the letter and with her shaky hands grasped Gene’s shoulders. The flood swept through villages and roads and destroyed anything that came in its path. it submerged houses and vehicles. It took away people’s lives. And then it reached the pine forest.
Gene tenderly placed his palm on the girl’s face so that the tip of his overworked fingers touched just below her earlobes. His thumb brushed her puffed cheeks and just like the sun, dried up the raging river. Whatever water was left was soaked up by the dark soil. “Don’t cry. You are going to be alright. I will make it alright.”
“H…how..”
Eugene softly smiled. He leaned in ever so carefully and inhaled as if it would be his last breath. His lips touched hers and their beating heartbeats became one. His lips were soft, Y/N noticed. They were the petals of of forget-me-nots and the wings of butterflies. They were four leaved clovers and lily pads. It was the feeling of freshly fallen snow and walking through a creek that was just recently rained upon.
Y/N broke away and was met with the winding pine forest but this time it wasn’t on fire. Y/N noted that the reason a forest fire spreads is because it is starved of showers. But now the pine trees were watered and the soil was full of health.
Gene ran his thumb along the ridges of Y/N’s chapped lips, the same lips that had filled his heart and lungs of passion just moments ago. He delicately parted her lips so that he gently held her bottom one in between his index finger and thumb. Gene connected his mouth to her open one and pushed his body against hers. His hands discovered everything she had to offer. Every curve and bump was adored and then finally rested on her waist. Y/N pulled Gene’s hair and caused sounds to escape his throat and send vibrations through her veins.
The medics trailed his open mouthed kisses across her jaw, down her neck and collar bone. His eager hands unclasped the top button of her jacket and continued down to the second.
Snap
Suddenly, the leg of the makeshift cot split in two and sent the couple tumbling to the ground with a large thud. Y/N’s back collided with the dense wood planks making up the ground and her head followed suit. She let out a yelp as the warm chest of her partner came in contact with hers. “Shit…”
Eugene hastily bolstered himself up on his hands that were located by her abdomen.”Fuck… you alright?”
Still a little shook up, Y/N nodded and tensely gripped Gene’s forearms. She let her fingertips graze the intricate designs oh his uniform until they came to rest on his jaw. Y/N bit her lip. “Gene?” She whispered with a fine mixture of innocence and seduction. Eugene’s breath got caught in his throat. “Yes?”
“I told you the cot would break.”
Y/N erupted in loud laughter and the man above her was forced to grin. “You’re terrible!” He declared in jest. The cheerful girl ignored his comment and continued to heartily cackle. The tempestuous currents stilled and the sun escaped from its stormy jail cell. The sun returned to his rightful place above the sea. The ocean mirrored the star’s excitement and it appeared as if fragments of the sun fell and were floating in the waves.
“Vous êtes si belle.” (You are so beautiful.) Eugene breathed as he lightly peppered her giggling face with kisses. Each feature was well accounted for as his lips brushed against the surface of her smile. Y/N carried on laughing as Gene’s tongue caressed her outer ear and gently nibbled on her earlobe. “Vous trope rire, Y/L/N.” (You laugh too much.)
Y/N kneaded the roots of Eugene’s dark locks in an attempt to stabilize herself. “Ok. Ok. I’ll stop. And can you get up? I can barely breathe.”
Eugene wistfully rose to his feet and offered her a kind hand but she politely declined. Y/N chuckled. “My toe is still fractured, remember? I’m surprised you forgot because you were so adamant that I needed to take it easy.”
“Then what do you propose I do?”
Y/N scratched her chin and pretended to think. “How about you… carry me?”
“Y/L/N…”
“Roe, you were the one that decided making out with me on that crappy cot was a good idea. I mean if you ask me-”
Y/N’s sentence was cut short as Eugene’s left arm hooked under her legs and his right arm held her abdomen. Her body was lifted from the protruding wood that was sure to give her a splinter if she wasn’t careful. Eugene’s light pink cheeks rose with the curve of his lips. “How about I carry you to a more sturdy cot but in turn you…” Eugene gave Y/N the most pleading look he could muster. “…tell me was in the letter?”
Y/N practically plummeted into an endless pit of panic as the fear hijacked her brain. Her eyes frantically searched his for any devious intent. Any sign that he would stab her in the back and spread her secrets.
But she found nothing because he was Eugene Roe. Her Eugene Roe. The same man that was too shy to introduce himself on the first day the met but was won over by her infectious smile. He was the only one that was a constant source of nurture and joy. When she was around him, she could truly be herself, faults and perfections in all. He was her rainbow after the deadliest hurricane. She felt captivated by him. She felt cherished by him. Her comrade. Her ride or die. Her best friend. And she was in love with him.
“… will you kiss me again?” Eugene nodded.
“Then yes.”
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A/N; I might make a part 2 to this because I know what’s in the letter and it is in fact NOT a dear john letter kinda the opposite actually. So keep on the look out for that :)
#band of brothers#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers fanfiction#band of brothers x reader#eugene roe#gene roe#doc roe#eugene roe x reader
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Payday Crossover (unfinished)
“…it seems the notorious criminal gang known as ‘Payday’ has made its return…’
Rey’s eyes widened, almost dropping the glass cup she was holding. In front of her, Claude sighed deeply as he turned the TV down, throwing the remote carelessly on the couch.
“All you ever hear about are scandals and problems. Media only care about the stuff that gets them more publicity, I guess.”
“…yeah…guess so…” Rey slowly put the cup down, heading towards the door. Claude turned towards her, raising an eyebrow.
“Babe? Where you going?”
“I, uh, forgot my laptop in the office. I’ll be right back, love.”
She closed the door behind her, leaning against the wall to support herself. Back when she was living in Romania, back when she was part of Payday, she had been caught by the authorities. But it seemed like some divine being was watching over her. She had been offered the chance to work with the police force to capture the rest of the members. It was either that or death, and honestly, she would rather live.
Unfortunately, they had managed to capture only two other members, even with her help. For some reason though, Payday had suddenly disappeared. After five years, she decided it was time to settle down and live a normal life. She always wanted a small apartment just to herself. So, she was allowed to leave. A few years later she met Claude. Rey had put her former ways behind her, blocking out the memories of her criminal days. Neither Claude nor anyone else would have to know about it. But now, she had a feeling she would be forced to revisit her past.
*
Rey’s suspicions had been proven right a few weeks later. Flanelia was terrorized after a recent attack at the one and only First World Bank, located about 45 minutes away from the castle. It seems the gang had moved to Flanelia. Claude had been stressing all day trying to figure out a solution to this problem. Currently, he was talking to the head of the police force, trying to come up with a plan.
It was already late when Rey decided she had had enough. Slowly entering the room where Claude and Simon Verundi had talked all day, both men stopped and turned towards her.
“I can help you figure this out,” Rey said slowly, picking her words.
Claude furrowed his brow while Simon simply stared at her.
“…and how exactly could you help up, Your Majesty?” Simon asked.
“I can help you figure out where they’ll strike next and what exact moves they’ll make…” she paused and looked at Claude with a steel glance, “because I used to be a Payday member.”
Silence settled over them. Claude’s face morphed from shock to confusion to anger before looking down. Simon simply stared at her, frozen. Rey shifted uncomfortably, playing with her hands. Right now, she wished she could simply disappear. The expression on Claude’s face was enough to bring her to the brink of tears. But this was one of the few ways the situation could be handled, and it was the easiest and quickest way as well. Many lives depended on her move.
It seemed like hours before Simon finally sent her a nod, gathering his things.
“Um…thank you, Your Majesty. I wish to see you tomorrow at the station, preferably I the morning. We must…um…discuss our strategies…” he looked from her to Claude, scurrying to the door. “I’ll, uh, see myself out. Good evening.”
The door slammed shut, and immediately Rey felt that she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t dare look at her husband, suddenly becoming very interested in the rug’s design. Had it always been so intricate?
Claude threw the pen he was holding to the floor, combing through his blond hair. His eyes finally snapped to Rey and he stepped towards her, his usually warm cerulean eyes had become icy cold.
“Rey.”
“…yes?” she finally squeaked out.
“Rey, fucking look at me.”
It took every ounce of strength to gaze up at the love of her life staring down at her with such a hard glare. She crossed her arms and turned to the window.
“How long were you planning on keeping this a secret, Rey?” Claude inquired, standing still.
Rey scoffed and whirled to face him, tears threatening to spill. “Um, forever? Why would I tell you, Claude? What for? Tell me, what fucking good would it have made if I had told you?! Please, explain.”
“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me this! Don’t you trust me? You can’t keep something like this hidden away!”
“Oh, really?! Because last I checked, either I’m crazy, or I kept this shit away for the past few years! Fascinating, isn’t it, how that’s possible.” Rey turned back to the window, furiously wiping her tears. “I-I just…I just wanted to live a normal life. I wanted to put all of this bullshit behind me and start over. I never wanted to bring it up again. Funny, how the world just decides to say ‘fuck off’ and screw you over.”
Silence swept over them again. She sighed in exasperation and made for the door. Claude wrapped his hand around her wrist, pulling her to him.
“…look, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot, I know. I just…was extremely shocked by the fact that…you…look, you’re right, you didn’t have to tell me. It’s a different lifetime. But…please don’t get involved in this. Please.”
Rey offered him a sad smile, bringing his large hand to her lips, placing them on his knuckles. “I’m afraid I have to. No one knows these people better than I do. The lives of your—our people depend on it.”
*
Claude stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. She was wearing a uniform similar to the SWAT uniform, her hair tied up, out of the way. She was reloading a gun and speaking to Simon, going over the plan. It had been a bit over a month after Payday’s last attack and finally, they struck again. This time they had broken in one of the most renowned companies in Flanelia, even the world. Most definitely they were after the huge vault full of jewels and more money than any member could think of. The mastermind behind this: Brett, a man with so much influence and power in the crime society that it was a bit scary and an honor to work under him. Even though she had quit, Rey never ceased holding a bit of admiration for the man.
She turned, her lilac eyes meeting Claude’s gaze. She sent him a half smile, dismissing Simon and approaching her worried husband. The blond hesitantly reached for her gloved hand, placing a chaste kiss on the palm of her hand before circling her waist and capturing her lips. She cupped his face, basking in the feeling. Both of them refused to admit it, but this could very well be the last time they would see each other.
Claude pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes lovingly. “Please, for the love of all that is holy, be careful and come back safe. I will even switch tea duty for the rest of my life, please just be careful.”
“Woah there, cowboy, that’s a very important tradition you’re talking about. How could you possibly survive without me making you tea every morning?”
Claude stuck his tongue out at her, giggling.
“I swear to God, I’ll do it.”
“I’m so holding you up to that when I get back, you know.”
They slowly let go, last words of encouragement leaving Claude’s lips as Rey stepped onto the military helicopter waiting. She sent him one last kiss before putting her helmet on and slamming the doors shut.
Claude ran back to observatory room, filled with screens and radios. He could see and hear what every soldier, including Rey could, and could communicate with them. He took deep breaths, trying to calm down and not disturb the staff.
*
Rey eyed the building down below, her heart thundering in her chest. They were preparing to rappel down onto the rooftop and go from there. She had briefed her teammates before on what to expect and what to look for. Finally, they were in position. She took in a deep breath, stepping near the edge of the helicopter next to the other soldiers.
Jump.
Quickly unhooking the rope, she pulled out her gun, aiming in front of her. She kicked down the door and bolted down the stairs. The rest of the soldiers followed close by. The building was huge, with exactly 104 floors. It towered high above Flanelia. The vault was on the last floor. As she and the soldiers infiltrated the building, she scanned her surroundings. Far below her she could hear gunshots. They still hadn’t arrived. There were no guards around her, probably left to fight against the gang. Simon’s voice rang in her earpiece.
“Your Majesty, we managed to hack into one of their communications systems. I’ll link you right now.” There was silence for a few moments before static filled her ear. Then she heard that oh so familiar voice.
“—better tread carefully. Rey, a former Payday member, is actually queen of Flanelia. She was captured a few years ago by the authorities and somehow became one of them. Damn good heister as well. Her aim was as accu—“
“Ok, Brett, we get it. Get to the fucking point.”
“What about her, Brett?”
“Well, just be careful. It’s possible she could have spilled the beans and joined an assault team. I’m telling you just in case, so be on your toes. By the way, you’re approaching the top floor. It looks like there’s a SWAT team up there already.”
Rey and her team had reached the vault by then, searching for any movement.
“They’ll be here very soon,” she said to her team. “I want to unload on them. Shields, make sure they don’t even come close to you. Dozers, lay back until I tell you to move in.”
This was the point of no return.
She could hear faint footsteps approaching from the dim hallway leading to the vault. The team of shields created a barrier between them and the gang, leaving small spaces where one could shoot through. Taking in a deep breath, she aimed at the empty hallway, her finger on the trigger. Soon enough, her former gang rounded the corner. They still wore the ridiculous, almost mocking masks.
“Fire! Everything you’ve got!”
“Shit! Take cover guys!”
“Is that Rey?”
“Yes, so if we’re not careful, we’re fucked.”
“Damn, she that good?”
“One of the best.”
Rey smirked, continuing to fire at the wall. They had taken cover behind the concrete corner, firing blindly. Rey gave the order to advance slowly, keeping up the barrage of bullets.
“They’re moving in. Hoxton!”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
A smoke bomb landed right in front of Rey. Before she could even warn the rest, her vision was blinded by smoke. She coughed heavily, choking.
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Hi lovelies! You're the best
Claire pursed her lips, thinking.
Then returned her gaze to the neatly wrapped parcels oftwigs, powders, and dried leaves evenly spaced on the tabletop Jamie had justfinished with Roger’s help.
She would need more shelves in this new surgery,especially while Mandy and Fanny had to bed down in there at night while Rogerand Brianna’s own cabin was built. The girls needed space for their sparsebelongings – and Claire had the luxury of two bare walls to dream about.
Slowly but surely she was adding to her stores. Herbasket – cleverly divided into sections with bits of old wood – had made dosince they’d returned to the Ridge, but now that Jamie and Ian were putting thefinishing touches on the new Big House, they could focus on the non-essentials(as in, anything not directly related to ensuring they stayed warm and dry andinsulated from the wind). So…
“Sassenach?”
Jamie’s tall shadow loomed behind the curtain in thedoorway – for they had yet to install proper doors on the first floor of thenew house – and gently he pulled back the cheery scrap of calico.
She hadn’t seen him since breakfast – and her day wasimmediately better.
“Found these.” He stepped toward her, standing on theother side of the table, gently laying down a handful of distinctive orangetubers.
“Bloodroot!” Eagerly she scraped at one root with herthumbnail, yielding the thick red sap that gave the plant its name. “Where didyou find this?”
He met her smiling eyes, and the corners of his lipsturned upward, clearly pleased. “Ach, just clearing out some rocks and I sawthe flowers. I minded that one time – before – we were out in the woods and youpointed it out to me. A pretty flower, but a deadly root, aye?”
“Yes – we’ve got to be careful, it’s poisonous if eaten.But it’s a fantastic emetic – and with all the children around now, we’re boundto need it sometime.”
Jamie’s four-fingered hand slid across the table –careful to not disturb any of her packets – and rested comfortably on herforearm. “I should be worrit if ye decide to use it on *me* one of these days,aye?”
She smiled, shaking her head, expecting him to steal aquick kiss and go.
But instead his hand slid down her arm, the pad of histhumb worrying the veins and tendons on the inside of her wrist. Eyes downcast.
She slowly counted to ten.
“What’s on your mind?”
His brow furrowed – the lines deeper than they had everbeen. So much weight he had borne on his shoulders in the months since they’dreturned to the Ridge – the need to call back his scattered flock, rebuild theirlivelihood, oversee plantings, construct the new house, re-learn the tangledweb of relationships that sustained the Ridge and its neighboring communities.Tempered of course by the joy of wee Oggy – then of Brianna and Roger and Jemand Mandy – and even William, when he had visited during the previous month.
It was a lot. Not that he’d ever admit as much to anyone –except her, of course.
“I was clearing the creek of some stones when I found thebloodroot.” His right hand still played with her left hand, his left hand idlytracing several of the packets. “Thought Brianna and the weans should have aproper stone hearth in their new house. So I was down in the creek and she andFrances didna see me.”
Fanny had blossomed in the months since she’d come to theRidge. Free now to become her own person, and to enjoy whatever childhood shehad left.
And she had developed a special bond with Brianna, toeveryone’s surprise. Perhaps it was because Brianna reminded her so much ofWilliam – in looks, in mannerisms, in the way that they gave her respect. ButClaire suspected that it was also because Bree filled the void in Fanny’s lifewhen Jane was taken away from her – and Bree clearly relished the novelty ofhaving a younger sister.
“What were they talking about?”
“I didna realize they were there at first. But then Icaught William’s name – Frances was talking about him.”
A soft afternoon breeze fluttered through the open window– with real glass, a luxury that felt almost decadent – stirring several of thelighter packets on the table.
“How he had saved her. After Jane – after she died. Andhow she had been so…terrified of what would happen to her. Because she thoughtshe was only good for one thing.”
Claire squeezed his fingers. “Jamie – ”
Now his voice rose in pitch, his eyes far, far away. “Shetold Bree that one time, she walked into a room and saw a man…taking Jane frombehind. And she was worrit the man would then do it to her. *A Dhia,* Claire. I– ”
“Sshh, Jamie. I – ”
“Damn it, Claire. She came so close. So, so close.”
Quickly Claire walked around the table to stand right infront of her husband, hands resting on his elbows.
“But it didn’t happen, Jamie.”
Finally his eyes met hers. Wide. Frantic.
“But it *could* have, Claire. And God help me, I wasthere standing in that stream, hearing Brianna try to make sense of what thegirl was telling her – and all I could see was wee Fergus on his knees and JackFUCKING Randall behind him, sneering at me in Paris.”
The pulse in his neck throbbed – his hands all clammy,his mind locked in terrible memories.
“I’m taking you upstairs.” Claire gripped Jamie’s handand attempted to drag him toward the curtain. But he wouldn’t budge – and insteadsank on his knees to the floor.
Eyes shining with tears.
“God help me, Claire – why are men such…such monsters towomen? Just listening to Frances, and listening to Brianna trying to reassureher…”
He slammed his fist on the floorboards he had so lovinglyand carefully crafted. The few precious glass jars on the table rattled.
“Damn it, Claire, she was being such a good sister to thewee girl, and Randall ROBBED her of her sister. Of…” His voice shook. “Of ourFaith.”
Shocked into silence, Claire reacted purely by instinct.Kneeling before Jamie – opening her arms, allowing him to drop his head intoher shoulder, his arms squeezing her so, so tight, her neck hot with his tears.
“I’m here,” she whispered over and over, slipping onehand under his shirt to caress his back – skin on skin, touching the scarsRandall had given him so many lifetimes ago, making it impossible for him tothink of that day without feeling here healing touch on him.
Outside in the dooryard, Ian called to Roger. Mandy sanga song to Esmerelda. A blue jay tittered from somewhere high up in a fir tree.
“WE are here, Jamie,” she murmured against his temple. “WEare safe. WE have survived.”
“I love you, Claire.”
“Hush. I love you, Jamie. I’m here.”
“God, if ye’d never come back to me…” he shuddered.
“Don’t think about that. Just think about here, rightnow. We are together. Stronger. Yes?”
“Aye.”
“And we treasure what we have because of what we haveendured. What we have survived.”
Then he stood, and pulled back a bit. Looking at her.
“You are the joy of my life, Claire.”
How her heart soared with love for this man. For what hehad done for her – would do for her.
“Take me upstairs?” she asked quietly. “I need time withyou.”
He reached for her right hand – the hand thatmiraculously still bore the ring he’d had made for her, all those years ago –and kissed it reverently.
“We have all the time in the world, do we not, mySassenach?”
Then he quickly crossed the room, and held back thecurtain for her, and together they raced up the stairs, eager to make timestop.
#;mod gotham#book 9?#featuring: angst#not quite along the lines of the prompt#but i hope you don't mind
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5.
Fairytale
The next two weeks passed in a flurry of activity.
Luna introduced Sera to the twenty-six allotment plots which stood behind the crematorium, separated from the cemetery by a line of fir trees. The catalogues she had created of the various fruits and vegetables contained made the younger woman hopeful that she would not at least have to live on tinned fruit all year round.
Sera helped to identify various plants and flowers which were previous occupiers had planted in each allotment, having been a keen gardener herself before the spread of the virus.
They began to speak more deeply and spoke of topics including literature, music and the families they had lost.
Without meaning to, each woman became the most prized possession of the other. They gossiped and they laughed and they continued to dine together.
One day when they were breaking into and exploring the rundown houses on a new, overgrown street, they came across two, sturdy looking mountain bikes.
Sera trailed one into the debris-stewn road and mounted it.
Luna watched her cycle merrily into the midday sun and disappear around a corner and down a short hill.
Her heart filled with emotion, and as she trailed her own new bike slowly back to the graveyard where she would meet Sera, several warm, happy tears leaked from her eyes.
She knew that she had probably fallen in love with the younger woman.
Inwardly she chastised what she saw as her own weakness.
The teenager Deborah Ferguson, her first girlfriend back in the 1980s, had tried to express to Luna her fear about the reaction of her traditionalist parents to her sexuality.
The arrogant and carefree teenage Luna, who was raised by a single, liberal mother who let her do whatever she wanted, including having sleepovers with her girlfriend Debbie, had never properly acknowledged Debbie's fears. She had dismissed her girlfriend's fears of being disowned by her parents as foolish, and had blocked any further conversation about the matter.
Having nobody else to turn to, Deborah had succumbed to her anxiety and had committed suicide.
Following this event, the responsibility to explain to Debbie's parents why she may have made this decision had fallen on Luna's shoulders. And on Luna's conscience.
Luna had never trusted herself with another woman after that. She had settled for men, who attracted her and gave her pleasure, but her intimacy with men was incomparable to her intimacy with Debbie.
Climbing gingerly onto her own bike, Luna once more suppressed her heavy feeling of guilt in the role she played in that teenagers suicide, and peddled unsteadily down an alternative route to the graveyard. A route with no steep hills.
That same evening Luna found herself with Sera in the small tower of a large house which she herself occupied.
It was a hexagonal shaped room, with six large, narrow windows allowing for a 360° view of the surrounding rooftops, the sprawling graveyard and allotments, and the hills of the countryside in the distance.
The sun was low in the sky, and Sera was teaching herself to play the large harp which the wealthy, former owners had covered in a bed sheet before abandoning the house.
Luna stood by the narrow staircase which led up into the small tower room. She lent against the stone-set window frame, the sky pinkening behind her as orange sunlight illuminated the sealed tower, dust mote's glittering around them both as Sera plucked the harp's strings tenderly. Beautifully.
She had been learning the instrument for a week, having located various music books for learner harp players, and already she was able to produce simple but elegant melodies using the extravagant, gold painted instrument.
Luna looked and listened on, and felt like she was living in some sort of dark fairytale.
Everybody was dead, except for her and this angel.
Sera had found a light-coloured, summer dress which was a perfect fit, and ideal for the warm, tower room. The material fell loosely from her slim thighs, leaving her smooth legs exposed as her bare arms gently twiddled the strings of the huge instrument.
Having stared fixedly at the younger woman for a long time, Luna closed her eyes for a few moments and meditated on the present.
She was in love, she stood next to the sky with live, beautiful music playing through her ears and through her soul, and she was hot with undiluted sunlight, and with arousal.
Although all human existence had apparently perished, there she was with Sera.
They were together. Alone.
The last note of the melody rung hauntingly across the six, narrow walls of the sparsely decorated, dusty room. Sera smiled with the pleasure of having played music again, and then she sighed lightly.
She turned to look upwards at Luna, who had been stood just out of eyesight.
The older woman's open lips and hooded, glistening eyes told a tale of silent desire to the younger woman.
Standing up slowly, she approached Luna.
As she got closer, Luna's heart raced and she began to recoil slowly, her body pressing further against the stone as the younger woman continued to approach.
Their gaze not having yet broken, Sera stepped so close that Luna's thick, dark hair began to press against the stone, her head tilting upwards as the younger blonde stood only inches away from her, placing her hands on the older woman's hips.
Luna inhaled sharply, her fingertips pressing against the stone as Sera brought her lightly freckled face forwards, and pressed her lips into Luna's.
Her kiss was soft, and sweet, and Luna's passion rose steeply as Sera pinned her lovingly against the wall.
Within moments, the two women were lost in a haze of hungry kisses and wandering hands.
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