#fucking hell the thing I'm watching has such an annoying guest. my head is killing me. serves me right for only having my stringlights on.

[l-inator]

Obligatory mermay content, ft. Willow.

You heard of willow trees loving water... but have you thought of the pun "BEECH?"

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Love In Sin

Chapter 9

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing - AU!Detective Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning - None, Fluff-ish

Word Count - 1.5k

Square Filled - Clothes Sharing ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N 1 - Surprise, this series lives! So, it has been a loooong time. I wasn't originally planning to post this part today but my college is killing me and I am hardly getting any writing (and reading) done. This was already done and edited so I finally decided to post this today.

A/N 2 - This may seem like a filler chapter but it's not, trust me. It's a very important chapter which plays a crucial part in the next chapters. ENJOY!

Beta'd by the absolute sweetheart @deanwanddamons <3<3

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Groaning loudly, Dean dropped his head as you paced around the room, complaining for the hundredth time that night.

“Will you stop?” He grumbled. You came to a halt when you heard his words and turned to look towards him. Throwing a glare his way you continued your pacing .

“Y/N/N, stop it. This isn't going to solve our problem - it'll only annoy the tenants downstairs,” he said and got up from his chair.

“What are we supposed to do? My pacing around is definitely not helping neither is your what, fourth glass of whiskey,” you retorted.

“Third,” Dean said, “this is my third glass and I'm tryin’ to get drunk.”

“We ended up in this situation because we were slacking and this is exactly what we are doing again,” you raised your voice, regretting your decision to stay at Dean’s house with him, “if you won't even try to get out of this situation, I'll be going back to my house tomorrow.”

“You won't stay alone in that house until we catch that son of a bitch,” he said, setting his glass and walking over to you, “it's dangerous.”

You knew it was dangerous considering how the house you had rented in Kansas was destroyed when you had gone back to get your belongings - furniture was thrashed, utensils were broken and clothes were torn, but nothing was stolen. It was clear that Crowley's men were trying to send you a sign to leave their boss alone.

It was Bobby who suggested that staying alone and travelling a few kilometres everyday to discuss the proceedings of the case would be a bad idea since Crowley and Co. were waiting for the perfect opportunity to cause disruption in the case. And knowing how ruthless Crowley could be, murder and kidnapping didn't seem like a far-fetched option for him.

Dean had piped up saying it would be better to stay at his house since he had noticed your house had a weak security system. His other reason was that he had a car, unlike you.

Needless to say, you had reluctantly agreed to stay with the green eyed detective, but deep down inside, you knew that staying with Dean gave you a sense of security and you didn't want to let that go.

“We will figure a way out,” he said, standing a little too close to you.

“How?” You asked the obvious question.

“I have contacted my brother. He will be working as our lawyer to get them to drop the charges. Sammy will be here early morning tomorrow,” he said, removing a stray piece of hair from your face, “but you gotta cool down, sweetheart. Give that pretty little head of yours a little rest.”

“I-I can't. I am freaking out Dean,” you said.

“I know. You have almost bore a hole in the ground by your pacing,” you hit his arm lightly, making him chuckle, “I'm thinkin’ about the case too.”

“Is Sam-will he be able to….this is a critical one,” you mumbled, looking down at the floor.

“I have faith in my brother and he can go to hell and back to save me just like I can. Sammy will do anything to help us. Trust me,” he said, putting a finger under your chin, prompting you to look up at him. He leaned in and placed a kiss on your forehead. This simple act worked like a sedative and you calmed down a bit.

“Join me for a drink,” Dean said and strolled his way back to the couch. You followed him and took a seat beside him. Pouring a drink, he handed you the glass.

“One drink. Only.” You said.

“Alright.”

“Who do you think might be the mole?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink

“It can be anyone. Charlie, Kevin, Bobby, Rufus-”

“Ruby, you,” he nodded, “me.”

“Like I said, it could be anyone,” Dean said.

“Motive?”

“Depends.”

“Do you think we can prove our innocence?” You asked, “the cops kinda caught us red handed and-”

“It's….tough.” Dean said and jumped out of his seat, knocking over the tumbler of ice.

You tilted your head in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” You insisted.

“A few years back, when we were only fledglings in the bureau, Rufus Turner was working Crowley’s case. This information was in the case file that Bobby gave to us. He had arrested two men in his gang but by the time they had got to know about that dick, they had already lost him. He had escaped the feds again,” he explained, flailing his arms all around in excitement.

“Maybe we can find out who those two men were and interrogate them about Crowley,” you said, smiling a little for the first time that night, knowing you had a lead.

“Now all we need is access to those two men's files. FBI is not gonna help us so we have to take matters in our own hands. I’ll call Ash and ask him to find those,” Dean said and ran back to his room to get his phone.

“Ash? What about Charlie?” You asked, when he came back to the room, “And shouldn't you tell Sam first? He is our lawyer and he should be informed about this.”

“It's not like we are gonna interrogate a witness and Ash is a good friend of mine. He is not a fed whereas Charlie works at the bureau and right now we can't trust anyone who works there because we don't know who might be working as a two-faced devil and ratting us out to the God of the Underworld,” Dean said, dialing Ash’s number.

“Ash,” he said when the said man picked up the phone after a few rings.

“Listen, we are kind of in a tricky situation here-oh you heard….not really, we got one week….no it won't….I know you're a busy man, Ash,” Dean said, rolling his eyes, “but we need your help….yeah….the thing is we need access to the old case files related to the drug mafia Crowley….yeah I know that genius….can't you-fine….I owe you one.”

“So?” You asked, hoping for good news.

“Ash will let us know by morning,” he said.

“Can we trust him?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” you reached for the bottle of whiskey.

“What do you think you're doing?” Dean asked, raising his brow.

“Relaxin’,” you shrugged, “you should try to relax sometimes.”

“You think you're such a smartass, huh?” He said and plopped down on the couch beside you, making you giggle.

“Thanks for tonight, Winchester,” you turned towards your friend.

“For what? For helping you calm down when you were running around like a headless chicken?” He smirked.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, “you know what I mean.”

“I'm here for you. We're in this shit together and I promise to get us out of this mess,” he said as you moved closer to him.

“And I have faith in you.” He pulled you closer and kept your head on his shoulder. He hummed in response. You closed your eyes, sighing loudly, but the sweet moment of coziness was interrupted quickly.

Your eyes flew open, “You son of a bitch, Winchester! Way to ruin a moment! How dare you put ice in my sweatshirt?” Dean laughed out loud.

“First of all, that's my sweatshirt you are wearing and you were looking too peaceful with your head on my shoulder,” he laughed.

“Fuck you!” You growled, and hit his arm hard.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arms. Dean effectively dodged your second attack, “woah, easy there tiger.” By now you were laughing too. As your laughter died down, you looked at Dean and saw him smiling softly at you. You blushed furiously under his strong gaze.

“You hungry?” Dean asked, clearing his throat.

“Uh-huh. Kinda forgot about food today until now.” You said, diverting your eyes.

“I'm thinking about ordering pizza. You okay with that?” He asked.

“Sure.” You said.

Half an hour later, as you were enjoying the delicious pizza and watching some crappy tv trying to put a break on the racing thoughts, you heard Dean speak.

“About earlier,” he sighed.

“Oh yeah. You better be sorry Winchester,” you gave him an annoyed look.

“No, I'm not sorry for that. It was fun,” he laughed.

“No it wasn't,” you said, but failed to hide the smile threatening to take over your face.

“It made you smile,” he pointed out.

“Fine, you're forgiven,” you said as Dean gave you a cheeky grin.

“In all seriousness, what I said earlier, I meant it. I promise to get us out of this mess,” he said, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek, your skin tingling with an unknown sensation.

“I know,” you said, “I think I should go to bed now. We have a long day ahead of us.” Dean nodded as you got up and made your way over to his guest room.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and Her Gunn (Part 115 1Xs2) True Intentions

@crystalbaby12 @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @5sosfam1dlover @rosefilledhearts-blog

"What the hell was that all about?" Slim asks Colson once he's back on his feet.

"Talk to that snitchen' ass bitch over there." Colson glares at Pete who's still holding Kevin.

"Me?" Pete looks around himself and the alien with a snort. "If I was the snitch she'dve kicked me not you, BITCH." He deadpans.

"Can you two just shut the fuck up for a minute and tell me what started this shit?" Slim demands, becoming frustrated over their bickering.

"Dickhead told her I said something to him about her affair." Colson shoots a dirty look at Pete as he rubs his shin.

"Don't even try to put that on me... Cuz ya did. And obviously to other people too." Pete shoots back, cocking his chin over at Slim and his knowledge instead of shock.

"You better watch your mouth, Davidson." Colson growls.

"Ohhh nooo!! You gonna kick my ass?" He mocks by waving his free hand in fake fear. "I'm fucking outta here. See ya, Slim." They exchange nods as he turns on his heel to walk up the slanted road.

"You and your alien better stay the FUCK away from her!" Colson shouts from behind him.

"YOU SHOULD DO MORE STAND UP BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING HILARIOUS!!" Pete cackles the rest of the way up the slight hill with Kevin in tow.

"STOP." Slim puts his hand against Colson's chest firmly before he can react. "You know you don't wanna fucking fight Pete... Tell me what's goin' on." He advises his old friend as he drops his hand and lights up a Backwood.

"I let some shit slip to him and instead of shutting the fuck up he ran his mouth to her." Colson huffs in anger and frustration.

"Where you think she went this time?" Slim asks as he passes the blunt and notices that it's beginning to rain.

"I don't fucking know... Anywhere?" Colson shakes his head as he takes a deep pull.

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

Pete calls Luna immediately once he's inside of a cab. "Yo... " He starts to lay into her once she answers. "You cheated on Justin? Who the fu... "

On the other end of the line, Luna's blood begins to boil. She's ducked under an awning out of the rain. Annoyed, she pulls the phone away from her ear and looks at it before replacing it.

"Are you my boyfriend?" She quickly cuts Pete off. "Have you ever been my boyfriend? No, I don't fucking think so. Therefore, don't call me up questioning me about some shit that has nothing to do with you. I don't owe you or anyone else an explanation so fuck off." Luna hurls out before hanging her phone up and turning it OFF.

"Why Colson?" Luna sighs heavily as she leans against the brick wall. "Why do you have to be so fucking petty sometimes." She begins to rummage aimlessly through her bag. Lighting a joint, she takes a break from the rain while staying lost inside of her own head.

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

"Where the fuck could she be?" Colson wonders to himself after searching The Brownstone for Luna. He's called her a dozen times but it's going straight to voicemail. "FUCK." He sighs, rubbing the back of his head.

It's 330A. They have a call time of 6A. Standing on their front stoop, Colson Snaps Luna. Walking back inside, he doesn't know what else to do.

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

Luna spends the night skating through The City with a bottle of Jack. Contemplating on to do with her feelings for Colson. There's a certain trust barrier that's been broken between them and Luna's unsure of how to handle it. EVERYTHING inside of her is screaming that he'll be the cause of her downfall as tears sporadically drop like the rain around her.

"It's not like you'll leave him." Luna angrily pushes off of the ground as she continues to glide through the streets. "This shit is way more intense than before." She acknowledges to herself what she's been avoiding. That she's bound to Colson in a deeper way than she ever felt to Justin. She's known it since that first night at The Gramercy. "He's gonna hem you up." She continues to argue with herself and the bottle of Jack as she floats around the familiar scenery of Brooklyn.

It's almost 5A when Luna finally shows back up at The Brownstone. Colson had dozed off while sitting up on their bed. She stares at him when she comes in as new tears form. Quietly gathering her things, she heads into the bathroom to shower. Locking the door behind her. Finally turning her phone back ON there's a ton of missed calls. She opens the single Snap from Colson.

Huge tears fall as she stares at his face. "MOTHERFUCKER." Is all she can think. Knowing in that moment; regardless of what the logic in her brain keeps trying to say, that Colson has her heart. Stepping into the running shower Luna's shoulders heave under the weight of the water and her tears. "I can't breathe without my heart." She shudders at the thought of losing him more than her own freedom.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"You're back." Colson opens his eyes to the sound of Luna chopping up pills in the bathroom.

"Yeah." She calls out simply as she snorts two thick rails of powder; a line of three 30mg Percocets and one of two 30XR Adderall.

"Where've you been?" Colson asks cautiously as he climbs off of the bed.

"Out." Is her only word as she comes into the bedroom to continue getting dressed. Throwing on a pair of his joggers and a tight, black tank. "We've gotta go soon." She tells him flatly when he reaches for her.

"Loon... Please." Colson lightly begs as their eyes meet, causing her heart to ache.

"You need to shower. There's 30s for you on the sink." She answers quietly before walking out of their bedroom.

Colson throws himself back on the bed in frustration, laying there for a couple more minutes before getting up and going into the bathroom. His head is pounding and he got barely any sleep. Turning on the water, he steps into the shower and let's last night's funk rinse off of him. With his back leaned against the wall, his hand automatically goes for his morning wood. Lightly playing with himself he grows harder as his mind drifts to the last time him and Luna were in their bathroom together. Pulling firmly on his thick cock, he starts to breathe heavier as he puts one hand out on the wall to brace himself. The memories of Luna's warm mouth making him burst.

"FUCK... How am I going to fucking fix this..." He worries as he does his daily slew of morning drugs and finishes up in the bathroom.

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

"Who is THAT?" Rook pants when he sees Jackie strolling down the street towards them.

Dressed to kill as always, her short wavy hair flows as she glides along in a pair of black leather pants and a simple, black Givenchy T shirt. Large, thin metal earrings and an oversized leather bag top off her fierce look.

"Morning Loons!" She leans in for a bright kiss to the cheek.

"Hi Jack." Luna kisses her back before she greets Sam and is introduced to The Guys.

They're standing behind ABC Studios while Rook continues to salivate over Jackie. His sweet little mouth can't form a word to speak to her as everyone bullshits and makes pleasantries. Colson tries to lace his fingers inside of Luna's to which she pulls back. Catching her eye, he feels a soul shattering disconnect.

"We gotta go." Luna announces as she heads towards the front door.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"There is no backing track." Luna argues. "That's the whole fucking point of a live performance."

"You have no pre-recordings of it at all?" The GMA staff member continues to question her.

"No. It's a brand new song that we're giving YOUR show the EXCLUSIVE to." Luna reiterates the significance. "You know what? I don't really give a FU... "

"Okay... Let's all just calm down." Jackie's sweet voice comes in from behind Luna. "The ONLY song specified in the contract is Bad Things, meaning my client and YOUR guests have the choice of the second song with no stipulations. If you'd like to get your lawyers, I'll happily contact Miss. Smith's and Mr. Baker's also." Jackie squeezes Luna's shoulders as she stares at the staff member firmly.

"Lemme check with production." Is all he can say with a shaking head before walking away.

"Where did that come from?" Luna turns around amazed.

"I told you and Monica, I got this." Jackie smiles slyly.

"I knew I made a good choice. Thank you!" Luna gushes with a smirk as she squeezes Jackie into a tight hug.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"And now, Machine Gun Kelly featuring THAT Brooklyn Bitch!!" Robin Roberts introduces them to the cheering crowd. "Performing their hit single Bad Things!"

Luna, Colson and his band are set up on the outdoor SummerStage placed on the corner of Broadway and 44th St. It's 8A in the morning, they're both tired, wired and fighting. They've fought before but neither has ever been this miserable during a performance together. Both are dressed down, easily showing off their mood to anyone who knows them. Him in a white Hotel Diablo T and ripped jeans while she's wearing a simple, goldish slip dress with her Docs. The only jewelery she has on is his padlock and engagement rings; bringing him slight relief.

The show must go on though... And it does. As always. Luna opens up on the keys easily. Wrapping her voice around the opening chorus as the masses below her sing along. The Boys are electric. Rook roaring away as Baze keeps the rhythm while AJ and Colson slide over their guitar riffs before Colson kicks in for his first verse.

One Look.

With the slight catch of The Eye, that's it. Well, at least OnStage. They fall into step with each other too easily, toning it down for morning television slightly; the chemistry and pure fire between Luna and Colson is still undeniable in their performance. Taunting and teasing each other as they roam the stage and command America's living rooms. As always, they end with Colson scooping Luna up for a kiss.

"I love you." He says lightly as he leans in.

"Mmm... I fucking hate you." She lowly coos with a sweet smile while kissing him back on the cheek for the crowd and then disappearing SideStage for not only a commercial break but to get her shit together around Colson.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Bad Things is doing extremely well for the two of you." Robin compliments them.

"Yeah, we're really proud of it." Colson smiles, using this as an opportunity to slide his arm around Luna's shoulders.

"It's off his album Hotel Diablo that just dropped July 5th. You should check it out, it's such a deep story that you can't help but be engulfed by it's journey." Luna plugs as she wraps her arm around his waist and rests her hand on Colson's chest out of instinct.

"Is there gonna be a tour?" She asks Colson.

"Hotel Diablo, baby! We did one earlier in the summer and we're headed across seas next month. Hopefully we'll hit another one stateside when we get back." Colson answers as he pulls Luna closer.

"FUCK... I hate him so FUCKING much." Luna screams mentally as her whole body throbs for Colson. His arm around her bare skin is like ice cream on a hot summer day. Melting and sticking to her soul. She wants to hate him but she can't. On all levels. Physically, mentally and emotionally. He fucking has her.

"So do you guys go on tour together?" Comes another question.

"Yeah, for the most part." Colson looks down at her for support.

"Bad Things is one of the regulars on his set lists so if I'm not working on another project, I'm usually with him." Luna admits.

"Aww... That's gotta be a lot of fun for you guys." The unknowing host assumes. "And today you're gonna debut a new song for us?" Robin grins at the roaring crowd. "Is this off Hotel Diablo also?"

"No." Luna speaks again. "This will probably be off my upcoming double album." She informs the public for the first time.

"A double album? Wow!! When can we expect that?" The host asks with a shocked response as Luna ignores her, moving away from Colson and grabbing her electric. "Well, don't let me hold you up." Robin nervously laughs. "Gracing us again... THAT Brooklyn Bitch and Machine Gun Kelly!!" She introduces them to the LIVE audience's wild applause.

Luna looks over to Sam first. Then Baze. Tuning her guitar she tosses an Eye to Colson. It's unamused and asks if he's ready as she adjusts the mic. His eyes say more than Yes and kills her soul.

Luna makes her guitar whine before Baze evens her out and Sam kicks in with the her steady, quick paced drums. Sliding into the main rhythm, Colson's guitar punches in to match hers. The beat is raw and powerful while Luna's deep voice brings it back to it's inner melodic tune.

🎼They say //He likes a good time//Well so do I//He comes alive//At midnight//That's when we thrive//My friends //No they don't trust him//Ask me why //They say he's into//Bad Things//But so am I🎶

Luna rips a mini solo while swirling her hips with the beat as Sam pounds away. Colson and Baze continuing to balance them both out. Luna stepping back up to the mic to lay the first official verse.

🎶A little bit older//Hates my//Black leather JACKET//Both got bad reputations//With insatiable HABITS//He was on to me//One Look//And I had to leave//Cuz//As soon//As he kissed me//We popped off//And were CRACKEN'🎶

Luna grabs the mic as Colson changes his chords to back her. Glancing over at him again he catches her eye before she unleashes her furry. This performance has such a different feel from when it first originated.

🎶THEY TALK//ALL THIS SHIT//'BOUT HOW//I'M A BAD GIRL//TONIGHT//IMMA SHOW YOU//WHAT IT'S LIKE//TO MEET HER🎶

Sam drops her beat to a low rumble. Baze kicking in with the same electronic ripping sound from Floor 13. His bass jarring through the air as Colson continues to play through the chords and move across the stage towards Luna.

🎶They say //He likes a good time//Well so do I//He comes alive//At midnight//That's when we thrive//My friends //No they don't trust him//Ask me why //They say he's into//Bad Things//But so am I🎶

Luna can't help but drop her head against Colson's shoulder blade as they lean back to back against each other. Both ripping their guitars and thriving off of each other before he takes over her mic. Hearts pounding as he lays his piece.

🎶Look... //She the type//To break//Your ass bad//Have you runnen' //Quicker//Than one of //Mr. White's bags//I be rockin' wit//THAT Bitch//You know she//Be rockin' wit me//You a special//Type of dumb //To think//You can stop her//From doin'//What she please//The kind //To whoop your ass//Then have you//On your knees//Looking up//Still begging//Like come on//Kiss me please //Don't say it too loud//Cuz that's MY girl //So trust and believe//That I won't wait//Or hesitate to//Jack you up too//Like a mini //Slim Shady🎶

Luna steps up face to face with Colson to the mic as his words make her pussy drip. There's that ALWAYS present electricity between them as they both continue to rip through the song together. Luna staring at him with THAT One Look. Giving her a sly smile he kisses her cheek before she kicks in and he backs away to let her focus.

🎶THEY TALK//ALL THIS SHIT//BOUT HOW//I'M A BAD GIRL//TONIGHT//IMMA SHOW YOU//WHAT IT'S LIKE//TO MEET HER

HE'S ROCKING//THAT BOX//AS HE'S MAKING//ME PURR//WE'RE SO OBSCENE//HE'S GOT ME//SAYING YES SIR🎶

Luna grins at Colson as he steps closer to her. Their guitars playing off one another's as their bodies pulsate from being so close to each other. Her pussy swells, wanting him just as badly as he does her. She can't help herself; it's like a fucking deficiency.

🎶They say //He likes a good time//Well so do I//He comes alive//At midnight//That's when we thrive//My friends //No they don't trust him//Ask me why //They say he's into//Bad Things//But so am I🎶

The four of them unleash their instruments. Sam slamming into the kit as Baze leans into his chords. Colson head banging while he slashes on his guitar as Luna continues to play while belting out the lyrics.

🎶MY OH MY//OH MY OH MY//They're calling you//The Devil, Baby//MY OH MY//OH MY OH MY//That makes me//Your Persephone//Without the maybe//MY OH MY//OH MY OH MY🎶

Luna's up at the mic as Colson teases her with his guitar. As much as she wants to be mad at him she can't help but smile again as she sings about him. Cocking her lip, her voice snakes around the lyrics as she glares at him and her body dies for his touch.

🎶They say //He likes a good time//Well so do I//He comes alive//At midnight//That's when we thrive//My friends //No they don't trust him//Ask me why //They say he's into//Bad Things//But so am I//So am I//Yeah so am I🎶

Their instruments taking over again before rounding out to a grand applause. Sam rumbles in the background as Colson throws his guitar over his shoulder and grabs Luna around the waist through hers. She can't help but grin as he plants a solid kiss on her lips.

"THAT Brooklyn Bitch and Machine Gun Kelly!!" Rings lowly in her ears amongst the screaming behind them.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Just shut the fuck up." Luna kisses Colson through their words as she pulls him into their dressing room.

Turning around, she bends over the closest object. It's the arm of a couch. Hiking her tight dress up, she pulls down her black panties as Colson presents his rock solid dick.

"Kitten... " Colson tries to speak as Luna works him into her with her hand.

"Unh Unh." She mumbles, tossing up the other arm to indicate his silence.

Slightly offended, Colson grabs Luna's hips and pushes himself into her deeper. Making her moan and slightly shake. Showcasing his authority, he wraps his fist inside her long blonde hair. Controlling everything about her as she bucks against him. Luna's walls tighten as they both draw closer; reaching around from behind her, she grabs his ass. Clutching it in her nails, she keeps him in place as she slams herself into his hips until they both equally explode.

"Fuck Loons... " Colson sighs as he kisses the back of her neck.

"Mmm... We've gotta go." She tells him again for the third time today to his dismay.

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

"I need you to call Lee Foster. Let 'em know I'm coming and that I wanna use Studio A... If it's booked I'll comp the artist's next two sessions." Luna tells Jackie once they're all back on the NYC streets.

"I don't know who that is... " She hesitates.

"The manager of Electric Lady Land Studios... Just mention my name along with what I said and we should be good." Luna quietly explains. "Meet me at the storage unit later?" She then asks before throwing her hand up for a cab to Jackie's nod. Luna turns to Sam. "Hey... Change of plans. We're gonna record here. Jack's trying to book us now. See that Mike's cool, please?" She asks of her.

"Yeah. No problem." Sam responds easily to Luna's Thanks as her and Colson climb into a cab.

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

"Electric Lady Land Studios, hunh?" Colson tries to make small talk with Luna for the first time in their lives. "How you gonna get in there?" He asks.

Luna turns to him with standoffish eyes. "I own part of it." She states flatly.

"Seriously?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yeah. I've been a silent owner since I was 18yrs old... There's A LOT you don't fucking know about me." She sighs loudly as she pulls up her black hoodie and looks out the window.

"She has so many fucking secrets... " Colson sighs to himself as he looks out his own window. Inching his fingers across the seat for Luna's, there's less than a half inch between them and he can feel the heat. Before he can touch her, she lifts her hand and lays it in her lap.

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

Arriving at Monica's office in Lower Manhattan, Colson and Luna meet up with his personal lawyer Cyrus. Placed in a private room they exchange introductions and pleasantries while waiting for Monica. Luna and Colson both still feeling off kilter.

"Hey!" Monica greets them with a rushed smile. "Sorry I'm late... How is everyone?" She asks as she scans the tense room.

The signing is quick. Holding nothing of Colson's or Luna's in the contract; only Robert Maplethorpe's personal catalog, it's exactly what they spoke about. Before they know it, Colson and Luna are back out on the pavement. Neither questioning their choice surprisingly even though this felt more like a business transaction rather than anything remotely personal.

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

"Come're... " Colson reaches for Luna's waist after they walk out of a stupid ass Starbucks; refusing to buy a coffee she has a strawberry smoothie.

"No." She declines as she shakes him off of her hips.

"What the FUCK, Luna?" Colson demands, growing tired of her coldness.

"REALLY?" Luna bites back.

"Yeah REALLY. We just fucked and signed our God Damn PreNump... So yeah, WHAT THE FUCK?" He throws his hand up in the air in frustration and shakes his head.

"YOU FUCKED UP!" Luna snaps while grabbing the tip of her hoodie.

"THEN WHY'D YOU FUCK ME!?!" Colson shouts at her in annoyance. "OR FUCKING SIGN ANYTHING!?!"

"BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!!" Luna screams before throwing her smoothie to the right of him. It hits the wall and splatters everywhere just like she had intended; her aim is rarely off.

"WHAT THE FUUUUUCK!!" He yells as little spots of pink goo land on him.

"Go tell Pete and ask him how to clean it out." She snarks before jogging off across the street.

"YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKING BITCH!!" Colson screams after her as she gets into a cab.

"She's fucking insane. She's fucking flat out fucking insane." Colson stews as he looks at his tainted shirt. "Where the fuck is she going though? I swear to God I'm gonna fucking kill her one of these days." Colson sighs with a frustrated mind as he pulls his phone out to call Mod and find The Boys before buying a new shirt.

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

Part 1 of 2

To be continued...

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Eight

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Small Avoidances

"Is there a reason why we're traipsing through the woods?" Jaskier questioned for the thousandth time, "I thought you killed whatever was tracking us."

"I did." Geralt grunted as he retraced his path to the fleder's corpses.

The bard frowned as he barely sidestepped a mess of brambles, "Then why are we out here?"

"You didn't have to come." The witcher rumbled in response as he eyed the ground. His steps were still very much present in the dirt, even after almost a week and it made him wonder just how out of it, he had been from the attack. He knew better than to leave a trail.

"Yeah, I'm sure that would go over well." Jaskier drawled as he narrowly dodged a branch swinging back in his face, "All I need is for you to suddenly be attacked out here and try and crawl your way back. It was a debacle getting you into the cottage the first time and you were merely down the lane then. Can only imagine what carting your heavy ass from the woods would be like."

Geralt glared wearily at him over his shoulder, "And here I thought you were going to pester me about your girlfriend."

The bard went unusually silent as he stared at Geralt's back before uttering a faint, "She's not my girlfriend."

The look of disbelief he received in return was almost galling, "She's not... she's... I don't know what she is."

Geralt snorted as he listened to the bard flounder. He'd have to be blind not to see the way the couple danced around each other, not to mention the air grew heavy with the scents of their attraction whenever they spent more than a few minutes talking to each other. It was getting annoying.

"She's been avoiding me." Jaskier murmured woefully.

That made Geralt pause as he sent the younger man an incredulous stare. Avoiding? They hadn't been more than a handful of steps away from each other since he had returned to consciousness. Hell, he had been surprised when Jaskier had decided to come with him instead of staying back with Lyrra. What the fuck was the bard talking about?

Jaskier sighed under that look, "Lyrra has this smile. It's the one she gives to the tavern's patrons she doesn't particularly know. Polite enough, but doesn't invite for more. She's been giving it to me the past couple days... It feels like she's building a wall - I don't know what I've done wrong."

Geralt rolled his eyes and turned to continue his trek. He didn't have time for this nonsense. The brush grew thicker, but a few paces ahead a small clearing lay. The bodies of the two fleders resided within if they hadn't been dragged off by the wildlife. By the faint smell of rot in the warm summer air, the witcher knew he would still find the corpses.

"Perhaps I've been too clingy." Jaskier continued thoughtfully, "I just... I like being near her. I thought she liked it too."

Geralt refrained from sighing, he knew Jaskier could go on like this for hours if he let him. Instead, he tunneled through the rest of the brush as he commented, "She does."

The bard perked up curiously at this, a hopeful tinge in his voice as he cautiously asked, "Really?"

It was such an insecure question that Geralt nearly scoffed at his companion. It wasn't like Jaskier to be so...well insecure. The bard exuded optimistic confidence no matter the situation he found himself in, uncertainty usually didn't set in until after he barreled into trouble... or in this case, he had broken things off with his lover. The witcher glanced back at Jaskier to see a nervous edge tightening his visage. It was then that Geralt remembered how young Jaskier really was, barely a man of twenty, "You're not the reason she's being distant."

He stepped abruptly into the clearing and the sight of dark mangled flesh met his gaze, behind him Jaskier audibly heaved as the smell and sight finally hit his senses.

"Gods that's disgusting." The bard moaned piteously, "Please tell me, we didn't come out here to bring those back with us."

"No." Geralt growled as he knelt next to one of the corpses, "It's unusual to find a fleder so far away from civilization. They like crypts and sewers, not woods and vineyards."

"Which means what exactly?"

He reached for the clawed hand of one of the fleders, uncertain of what he was looking for, as several bugs flew into the air. Jaskier choked in disgust and backed himself toward the edge of the clearing. Geralt paid him no mind as he looked over the wounds he'd made – his strikes had been clean to the bodies. Their size, Geralt realized now, was smaller than the fleders he had encountered in the past, but not by much. These were the same height as him, most towered another foot above. The claws were long thick tapers, but otherwise ordinary. He scowled as he continued to scan the hairless, warted body. Already muscle and skin had shriveled, the summer heat had done little to preserve the remains. It was then he smelled it.

A sickly-sweet scent. Like rotting roses, coming from the creature's mouth. His golden gaze zeroed in on the creature's fangs as he stuck a finger along the back edge of the sharp canine.

"Oh Geralt, no!" Jaskier groaned as a black seeping liquid sledged down Geralt's arm, "I should've stayed with Lyrra."

Poison.

Geralt eyed the substance curiously as he sniffed deeply at his hand. The sweetness was worse, but he recognized a few of the underlying scents. He now understood why he had been so fatigued; the toxin would act as an anesthetic on a normal human in small doses, but what the fleder secreted would kill its prey. Geralt wasn't normal by any means and he was suddenly thankful his mutated anatomy had allowed him to make it a few miles away before succumbing. However, fleder's typically weren't poisonous either, "Fuck."

Jaskier raised an eyebrow as he dryly stated, "Good news I take it."

Geralt glanced at him with a frown as he wiped his hand in the grass, "They've been altered – purposefully mutated."

The bard's brow furrowed in confusion, "Why? What would be the point?"

"I don't know." Geralt murmured lowly as he gave the corpses a leery glance. He would leave the remains here and check back in a few more days. If he were lucky whoever had made these beasts would be looking for them. It wouldn't do to have someone running around creating new monsters for the world, "We should get back."

»»————-　　————-««

The sharp shink of metal was the only sound that disturbed the quiet air of the cottage yard and how Lyrra was able to find one of her guests as she came back from the markets.

"You know I've had my little panic problem for a while now." Lyrra stated softly as she stopped before Geralt sharpening his swords, "I don't think it's something that will go away from a few training drills."

Geralt barely paused in his actions as he settled a firm glance on her, "I don't intend to make it go away."

It wasn't just the panic she went into when she was touched, but the coil of anticipatory tension that began to wind whenever someone was behind her. She had been trained to expect an attack from behind, trained to feel vulnerable and helpless in the wake of that attack. Her reactions were enough to tell Geralt that her abuse had gone on for longer than he wanted to imagine and the lessons that her abuser had taught her would never be forgotten.

She seemed only mildly surprised at his words as she quirked a brow at him, "And what do you intend to do?"

"I intend to make you use it." He grumbled as he slid a rag over his blade and began to polish, "Acknowledge it, control it, use it, and then put it away."

Lyrra smothered a sigh as she looked almost bemused at him, "I don't understand. Why are you going through all this trouble?"

"I repay my debts."

She stared at him for a long moment, "And what debt could you possibly owe me that would incur this sort of payment?"

Geralt barely stifled a sigh as he set his sword and cloth to the side and met her stare head-on. Neither he nor Jaskier had mentioned what they had discovered in the woods to her. He didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone until he had more answers. Yet, even this was only a small reason to stay and he wasn't about to elaborate further. He didn't have to – she could very well make the connections on her own.

"It wouldn't be for playing nursemaid. This is all too much trouble for a simple act of kindness." She smirked bitterly and he saw shades of her sister shine through, "Renfri, then. I find it particularly curious that a woman you met briefly years ago has this much impact. Granted, yes, you did kill her, but you've killed plenty. Monsters and men. What made my sister so special?"

Geralt frowned disapprovingly at her words, but he recognized the provocation for what it was, wounded pride and desperate defense, "Why? Afraid you don't measure up to her?"

"I know I don't." Lyrra answered wearily, "She was strong. She took her pain and let it fuel her – she thrived from it... I'm not her, Sir Witcher. You've been looking for her since you woke."

That was true... to an extent. There was no denying the resemblance, but Lyrra's temperament was much different from her sister. Renfri, he understood. He understood her pain, her rage, and her desire for justice. He even understood her need to demolish all who stood in her path, even if he didn't agree with it. Lyrra was quieter than her sister however, he sensed that her pain went deeper. Her fear and rage simmered below a well-crafted surface, waiting for the opportunity to overwhelm. He had seen glimpses as she sparred with him. Had watched as she expended more of her energy battling herself and her instincts than she had him.

"I know you're not Renfri, Lyrra." Geralt uttered softly, "And she's only a small part of why I'm doing this. Though I do wonder, why you've indulged me so far."

Lyrra seemed to falter at his words, a faint sadness lined her stormy eyes before she grimaced and looked away, "Because... when I look at you, I see her too."

He cocked a brow and waited.

"Most people remember my sister as a monster." Lyrra explained softly, "You remember a person. I can see it in your eyes when I mention her name or I do something similar to her. You reinforce her memory and it's hard to walk away from that."

"I killed her, why aren't you angry with me?"Geralt finally demanded, "The memories I evoked cannot be pleasant. I took her from you."

"Aridea took her from me." Lyrra whispered, her eyes glazed as she fell into distant memories, "As did the mage. My Renfri died long before you ever arrived."

He didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't. He sighed heavily and he waited for her attention to come back to him, "I will stay only as long as it takes for my wounds to finish healing." He stood and Lyrra watched after him curiously as he moved for the cottage, "You shouldn't underestimate simple acts of kindness. You help heal me, I help heal you. It's that simple, Lyrra."

"How?"

Geralt didn't look back, "Come and find out.”

»»————-　　————-««

Jaskier hated this.

To her credit, Lyrra was doing an admirable job at being brave, aside from the tense set to her jaw, her mien remained expressionless. However, there were still signs that she wasn't handling the current situation well. She had turned that stark white color again and it was only very faint, but he could make out the tremor spilling through her hands. He itched to go to her, but her recent reticence with him weighed heavily on his mind. Geralt had said her reserve had nothing to do with him, but still, he was uncertain.

The witcher stood behind her, hovering just inside her personal space and not touching, merely observing, but she seemed to be anticipating some action from the larger man. What though, Jaskier wasn't sure. He knew that sometimes Geralt would press a hand to her shoulder or hip, but never in the same area. He also knew that he wanted this exercise to be over. This was the third day of them playing some variation of this little game after going through defensive stances and he was tired of it. Despite the impassivity on both Lyrra's and Geralt's face, he could sense her distress and it was making him anxious.

Logically, he knew that Geralt would never hurt her, but logic was hard to hold onto when all he wanted to do was to step in between them. When he knew that when they finally finished for the day, she would disappear for an hour and come back with tear tracks staining her cheeks.

He fidgeted uncomfortably, "Is there a point to this? I didn't think defense had anything to do with standing like statues."

A small smile quirked at Lyrra's lips at his words, but no further reaction or explanation came forth from either of his companions. Instead, Geralt tilted his head in thought as his studious gaze suddenly landed on Jaskier. He always found it rather dangerous when Geralt looked at him like that – it usually meant he was about to be used as bait for some horrific creature.

He gave the witcher a leery look and nearly missed the amused glint that entered Lyrra's grey orbs as she watched him.

"Jaskier, come here."

The bard jerked his attention back to his friend and tried not to frown as Lyrra tensed again. He hated this. Geralt stared at him expectantly and Jaskier sighed as he slipped from his perch on the woodpile. His journal and quill laid forgotten on the ground as he approached, writing was something of a chore currently anyway. Lyrra's eyes followed him curiously as he neared and he couldn't help but send her a flirtatious smile as he stood next to her. He did so love when she blushed from that grin and as expected a faint coral red rose to her cheeks, "How can I be of service?"

Geralt rolled his eyes as he watched the bard's antics, but backed up a few steps as he ordered, "Stand where I am."

Jaskier huffed and stepped into the space that had been vacated, "So, am I just supposed to stand here? What is this accomplishing anyway? Is this some secret witcher technique to make people aware of their surroundings?"

The last bit was more of a taunt than an actual question. He wasn't a complete idiot – he had seen the way Lyrra tensed whenever someone stood behind her and he knew that Geralt was trying to stop that tension from turning into something more... dramatic. He bit back a smirk as he heard Lyrra and Geralt sigh at the same time.

Geralt moved to stand in front of them both, making sure that Lyrra kept her gaze forward as he gave his next set of instructions. There was almost a look of forewarning that the witcher sent to their hostess and by the way, she suddenly stilled, Jaskier was hesitant to do anything he was asked. As if he could hear his thoughts, Geralt levied a heavy glare in his direction, "Jask, place your hand on the small of her back."

He didn't move, a sense of foreboding filling his being as he stared at his friend, "Wh -"

Lyrra sighed again and rolled her shoulders, "It's okay, Jaskier...go on."

Her assurances weren't good enough and Jaskier found himself scowling as he asked, "Can one of you please fill me in on the importance of this exercise?"

"No." Geralt answered soundly and lifted a brow at him, "The small of her back."

Stubbornly, he crossed his arms, not in the least intimidated by the witcher's glare. He was going to get a bloody answer out of one of them for this continued nonsense. Lyrra was the one to break as she kept her gaze forward and her voice unreasonably light as she said, "He's trying to keep me from falling into some bad memories. I was hurt repeatedly as a child and when someone touches my back, I remember that pain. It makes me rather useless when being attacked, apparently."

"You're not useless." While her words were unsurprising, the dark twist through his gut was as he tried to quell the urge to demand further explanation. Despite, what Lyrra may think he had ascertained some form of abuse to her person from their night at the inn. She had spoken during her nightmare, quietly whispered pleas that had fair broken his heart – he couldn't bring himself to ask after those cries when her gaze had alighted on him that night, he was beginning to wish he had. Fuck, he didn't want to cause her pain, "Lyrra, we don't need to do this."

She peeked at him over her shoulder and smiled gently as if he were the one who was being tested, "It's fine."

It really wasn't.

She turned back before he had a chance to protest.

"You've both lost your damn minds." He scoffed quietly and glared almost petulantly at Geralt as the witcher merely crossed his arms and patiently waited. He had a feeling if he didn't do it then his friend would and somehow that seemed much worse.

Nervously, he shook his hand out before hesitantly reaching up and pressing his fingers into the hollow of her back. She went positively rigid, but as he moved to yank his hand back Geralt froze him with a look.

An expectant look.

It was as if he were expecting the bard to suddenly know what to do to make this all better. He wasn't a bloody mind healer for Melitele's sake, "Tell me to stop, Lyrra."

"It's fine." Her voice was tight as if she were gritting her teeth.

Jaskier swore, he fucking hated this – desperately, he fell back into the one tool he knew how to use better than anything, "Close your eyes, Lyrra and listen to my voice."

She must have sent Geralt a look as the witcher nodded at her to follow his directions. She crossed her arms and Jaskier bit back a sigh as Geralt sent him another expectant glance. He kept his touch light as he asked softly "When you blew that dandelion into my face, what did you wish for?"

"What?" Lyrra asked somewhat bewildered.

"I know it's been a few days, but after we decided we were unfit to marry. I handed you a dandelion and you blew it into my face." He ignored the raised eyebrow from Geralt at his words and pushed on, "What did you wish for?"

"Um... nothing. I just wanted to see your reaction." Lyrra murmured.

"Oh?" Instead of pulling away as his instincts were screaming at him to do, he slid his hand around to grab her hip. A touch of humor and curiosity entered his voice as he asked, "And did I give you the reaction you wanted?"

She snorted quietly, "You were surprised... but delighted, like I had just given you a grand gift instead of a face full of seedlings."

Jaskier felt a small grin tug at his lips and he gradually began to press his body closer to her, "You did give me a gift. You trusted me to be your friend." She began to stiffen again as his warmth started to settle against her back, "Trust me now, Lyrra. Trust that it's me behind you. Trust that I will never hurt you... What happens when someone touches your back?"

"I panic." She whispered tightly.

Jaskier grimaced, "No, start smaller. What's the first thing you feel?"

There was a long drawn out pause and for a horrible minute, the bard was sure he had made a mistake, had drawn her further into her fears instead of away. Then a shuddering breath stole through her as she answered, "Ice. It feels like ice has been poured into my veins. I hate the cold."

"What else?"

She swallowed, "My heart beats so hard that I'm sure it will pound through my chest. My throat tightens and I can't seem to scream, no matter how hard I try... and I feel weak as a babe, my arms heavy and my feet slow...and I can feel him. I can feel his hands and his breath."

A nauseous roil climbed Jaskier's stomach as he began to work out just how exactly she had been hurt. Her reserve around him suddenly made more sense... By the Gods, how he hated this. He clamped down on the need to rebuke both his friend and Lyrra for making her relive these horrific memories day after day. His grip on her tightened ever so slightly as if he could drag those memories from her skin, "You're not weak. You're still here. Still breathing, still speaking, and warm, and kind. I have watched you. You take the time to chat with every customer, you take the handsy ones away from the other barmaid."

"I don't-"

"– don't deny it, I've seen you do it." He rubbed faint circles into her hips as his chest met her back, "You always greet the barkeep with a smile. You help that man – Nigel – find safe shelter when he's too deep in his cups. You speak only kindly of Madam Hatchet."

"Madam Tyssa."

He smiled at her exasperated correction, "You gave Geralt your bed and your home. You listen to me ramble. You let us try to help."

Her hands slipped down to meet his. He could feel a faint tremor through her chilled fingers and gently trapped them under his on her hips. It was an odd reverse hug they stood in, but Jaskier didn't dare move now. Instead, he buried his face into her hair and continued to whisper to her, gentle questions and even kinder observations.

The couple had forgotten Geralt as he watched her trembling subside and her pallor lessened, "Lyrra."

Her grey eyes wearily lifted for the first time since Jaskier had begun speaking and the witcher found himself softening under her wary look. He silently asked her if she would be okay to try the next part of their exercise. The part they hadn't been able to get to before. She sighed inaudibly and nodded as she unconsciously tensed in Jaskier's arms.

The bard turned an irate stare on his friend, already sure he didn't want to hear the next set of instructions, "No. Whatever you're about to say, Geralt, just no. We've done enough for today."

There must have been something in his gaze that gave Geralt pause as normally the witcher had no compunctions about overruling him. Hesitantly, he nodded in agreement, "We'll try again tomorrow."

A faint murmur of protest left Lyrra's lips and it was all Jaskier could do not to shake the woman. Was she so intent on torturing herself? His lips brushed the rim of her ear, "Tomorrow Lyrrana. I will touch you until your heart's content tomorrow."

"How do you make everything sound like an innuendo?" Lyrra asked quietly as she tilted her head back to meet his stare. A faint twinkle of amusement shined in her grey orbs and he nearly smiled in relief.

He basked in that look, in her nearness as she leaned willing against him. For what felt like the first time in millennia, though it had only been a couple of days, she wasn't staying just out of his reach, wasn't presenting her mask of polite tolerance at him. He brushed a light kiss to her brow, "Just talented that way."

Her faint blush returned under his scrutiny and he bit back the urge to taste her lips when she didn't pull away. Slowly, he linked his fingers with hers and tugged her around to face him, "You don't have to hide from me, you know? I may talk utter nonsense, but I do make a rather good listener too, my lovely Lyrra."

She stilled in surprise and a sheepish smile quirked at her lips as she realized her attempt at distance hadn't gone unnoticed, "Jaskier..."

He didn't particularly want to hear her excuses or apologies just then. He shook his head at her with an amused huff before gesturing for the cottage, "Come on. We'll talk later."

Lyrra said nothing as she let him guide her inside.

Previous Chapter     Next Chapter

[jcmorrigan]

Just popping by and asking because I'm curious about your self ship with Giovanni. How did you both meet? :3

Ooh, I love this story! Though I had it only bare-bones before...this ask inspired me to sit on it and think through more of the details! So now I have a little more of that.

First of all, it doesn’t exactly follow the storyline of this song, but I just discovered it last night and I was STRUCK by how fitting it was for this whole ship, so give it a listen while reading this. Also, this got LONGER THAN I EXPECTED I���M SO SORRY

So. Here’s me: Rachel Scribere. Absolute mundie. Wants to be Inscribed, but that’s just not my life. Also wants to move up in the publishing industry, since she loves writing (mostly fanfiction, but let’s not tell the world that). And good news! A suburb outside Sweet Jazz City is hiring for a small local paper! Better than nothing, right? So I move from my small town into the heart of the city, scraping up for a cheap apartment so I can get started at work.

And it’s Hell.

My boss? Racist, homophobic, Lexist, and thinks I’m annoying. This job is slowly killing me, but I think it’s my only shot. If I lose it, I lose the apartment, I have to move back in with my parents, I have to let everyone down. Not to mention I haven’t made any friends yet in this city...surely my co-workers can’t be as bad as I think, right? They’ll be my pals eventually, right?

In the throes of depression, feeling absolutely no worth, I’m left to watch the office one day while the others are out. At a “business lunch” without me. Because I’m not in their inner circle yet, and probably will never be. I’m just trying to do some menial task they haven’t trained me how to do properly, nearly crying because it’s just not working and I know they’re gonna come back and be mad with how little I got done.

When the wall blows open.

“THERE’S NOWHERE LEFT TO RUN, [SUBURB] HERITAGE MUSEUM! FOR YOU HAVE BECOME THE NEXT TARGET OF THE BANZAI BLASTERS, AND THEIR PEERLESS LEADER, GIOVANNI POTAGE!”

When the dust clears, we’re trying to work out what, exactly, just happened.

He tried to rob a heritage museum in this suburb...and showed up at the wrong fucking building.

So he’s just all “Oh. So that’s why I’m the only one who showed up. Caaaan we just forget this ever happened? OKAYTHANKSBYE” and peaces out.

Well, I’m just about done, because our office got blown up and I still haven’t done my job and this is gonna be on my head and I just kinda fall on the floor and start crying. (Look, I know this isn’t the most headstrong start, but it’s my fantasy and I wanna be rescued from despair!)

When Giovanni WALKS RIGHT BACK IN to ASK ME FOR DIRECTIONS TO THE ACTUAL MUSEUM -

And witnesses me having a breakdown. “Hey...you, uh...you okay there?”

Well, now I’m mad at him for fucking up my life, because I am SO fired, so I get up and start sobbing and screaming at him how this is gonna be seen as my fault, and how this was already so horrible and it’s just so much worse now, but I launch into how little I was valued and Giovanni interrupts to express disbelief that my bosses didn’t take the time to help me catch up and feel welcome. After all, aren’t bosses supposed to treat their minions with love and respect?

Well, that’s when said bosses come back to the office. And they let me HAVE it.

Giovanni is miffed for two reasons. One, that they’re ragging on their precious minion (me) when that’s not something anyone should ever do, not ever! Two, that by going all “SCRIBERE. WHAT...DID...YOU...DO?”, they are totally stripping him of the cred of having made that bombastic entrance. He’s supposed to be the villain here, okay? Know his name! Fear it!

A great big argument ensues, with Giovanni defending this poor “newspaper minion” he just met and me not knowing what to say and my bosses trying to chase this crazy supervillain wannabe out of their office. And as Giovanni starts rattling off how much I deserve better and I’d be better off just quitting and being a villain...I get the impulsive idea. Hey, why not? At least I might feel alive.

So I stand up and make the decision for myself. I’m quitting. Effective now. And becoming an actual villain because I’m tired of adulting. SEE YA!

And I walk out.

Only to realize, a couple blocks away, that I have just thrown out my only financial lifeline.

Cue breakdown #2.

Now, Giovanni, he hasn’t gone love-at-first-sight for me or anything. But he does know a sad minion when he sees one, and he sort of has it in his head this is kiiiiiinda his fault, so he tails me to make sure I’m okay (which I’m not). And, I mean, a professional villain isn’t who I expected to be venting to, but he’s all I’ve got, so when he says he’ll listen, I just let it all out.

Giovanni has a great idea: I could join the Banzai Blasters with him! To which I utterly refuse. I mean, everyone knows it’s a pyramid scheme at this point, right? No one would join without being fully aware of that. (Gio: ”Heheh...yeah...I mean, I definitely knew that when I signed on, but that just means they’re legit bad guys...”)

But then he gets a BETTER idea! What if I’m an independent contractor villain? I keep the spoils of my own heists! He even thinks he remembers the name of some appraiser in the Blaster handbook that could help me get a foothold in the black market! I just need to steal some stuff to get startup capital, and hey, no one said I couldn’t tag along with the Blaster squad and take some of the spoils, like the awesome cursed swords we’re gonna find at the museum! (Me: “...What do you think the heritage museum is actually for?”) After all, the Blasters’ success is more based on clout and rank than the actual things they walk away with. No one will notice if one or two nice things goes missing! Not to mention, if I’m not an official Blaster, I get to pick my OWN uniform!

I’m desperate. And you know what? This...sounds like fun. What if I just said “fuck it”? So I agree. (And mentally plan out a potential blue-and-black aesthetic for my villain career.)

I also agree to give Giovanni a ride over there, since he is seriously NOWHERE NEAR THE MUSEUM.

En route, since it’s my car, he gets to hear one of my car mixes (IRL I make killer car mixes that make riding in my car like playing Russian Roulette - you could get rock, you could get emo, you could get trashy pop, you could get video game music, or you could just get a meme). And so he learns about my music taste. He also starts grilling me on my life - what do I do for fun? Well, I...write. They’re not really publishable stories, but...

Giovanni: “It’s fanfiction, isn’t it?” Me: “GOD DAMMIT”

He also asks my name. Which he hates, because he graduated with seven Rachels, and I can’t blame him, because I graduated with four others.

We finally get to the museum and the rest of the squad has been waiting for like an hour. They know he got lost but aren’t about to bring it up. Giovanni announces that he’s bringing a friend today and I get to help out.

Now, it’s worth noting at this point that I noticed he was QUITE A HANDSOME FELLA from the moment he walked into the room through the hole he blew in the wall, and his quirks are exactly My Type. So I’m already starting to crush on him. But I am well aware that should NOT be ANY sort of priority right now. As for me? He just sees me as a new villain buddy! (He develops feelings for me later, at which point he’s horrified because “I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE A FAVORITE MINION!”.)

The other Blasters are just like “Okay, cool” because it’s really not strange at this point for Giovanni to pick up a stray (”How do you think we got Flamethrower?”). Ben is excited because now he’s not the only one who doesn’t have a cool minion name, but now Giovanni wants to give me one to spite Ben. “Hmm...let’s see...you’re a writer, so...Storyteller? Chronicler? No...oh, wait! You also like all that weird music! What about COMPOSER? See, it’s a double meaning, because it’s a music thing, but also, you COMPOSE stories...you...you get it? It’s wordplay.”

Composer. I like it. In return, even though Giovanni’s technically not my boss, I agree to call him Boss. (”And really, I may not be your boss legally, but I want you to think of me as a boss in your heart.”)

And we have FUN clearing out the museum. It’s a Sunday, so it’s closed and no one’s actually there, so we just have the run of the place. I get to take back a couple artifacts that Sweet Jazz history buffs on the black market will love.

At the end of the day, Giovanni is all excited for this new partnership, and he’s talking up how he’s going to meet up with me tomorrow to get my stuff appraised - can he have my number? Just to keep in touch? - and I have to discreetly drop him back off at the newspaper office so he can collect his Vespa and drive home. (Look. I know he does not, in canon, drive a Vespa. But he gives me the exact energy of someone who drives a Vespa, so in this ‘verse, he has one. Just rollin’ down the road like he’s on a motorcycle when it’s a fuckin’ scooter that just goes very fast)

Before I drop him off, though, he asks me if they’re gonna kick me out of my place due to me not having a paycheck that day. See, he doesn’t exactly understand how rent works. I assure him I have a due date. He tells me that I can totally crash at his and his mom’s place if I want; he’ll bug his mom into making up the guest room. Apparently she’ll be happy that he’s made more actual friends.

I joke that she would probably be fazed that he brought a girl home. He says that’s never been a concern. “Oh. Not into girls?” “No, I am. And guys. And a couple who weren’t either. The thing is, if my mom was gonna ban everyone I COULD end up being attracted to, she’d have to ban...EVERYONE. And then I wouldn’t be allowed to have ANY friends over.”

I drop him off, go back home...and hit breakdown #3.

What was I fucking thinking? I can’t be a supervillain. Especially not an independent contractor. I’m on the wrong side of the law for a living. This isn’t going to turn a profit...and that’s not even taking into account the trouble I’ll get in with the heat. I’m having anxiety, shakes, nausea, the whole works. Starting to think this isn’t worth it. Maybe starting to feel a little suicidal.

Crawl into bed. Barely sleep. Drag myself out of bed the next day to rendez-vous with Giovanni.

Just seeing him makes me feel...slightly better. He and I head off to a hidden locale to briefly confer with Ramsey Murdoch over my finds. (”Just don’t look him directly in the gross rat face.”)

Ramsey informs me I actually have some valuable stuff on my hands, recommends some buyers, makes an offhand joke about us being a “cute couple” that goes right over Giovanni’s head.

This doesn’t do much to reassure me. I still feel empty. Hollow. Afraid. But Giovanni, he SENSES this on the drive home. He can also tell I put in one of my most upbeat dance mixes to cover the sadness. So he pesters me until I tell him how I really feel...

And he refuses to leave me alone all day because a good boss doesn’t leave a minion who’s feeling that down on herself.

We end up back at his place. Start out by watching movies. I have to put up with him and his mom yelling at each other, but Ms. P. switches on a dime around me - “So glad you’re here, Sweetie. Giovanni could use more good friends like you. Good influences who will tell him NOT TO PUT HIS FEET ON THE LIVING ROOM TABLE GOD DAMMIT HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO GO OVER THIS WITH YOU GIOVANNI anyway, Rachel, can I get you anything? A drink? Some popcorn? Since MY RUDE SON DIDN’T ASK WHAT HIS GUEST WANTED WHEN SHE CAME OVER but you name it and I’ll get it for you.”

I’m still depressed. I cuddle up in a blanket. It’s hand-knitted. I mention that it’s super comfy. Giovanni takes it as a compliment, revealing that he made it himself. This leads to him parading a bunch of things he’s knitted in front of me - scarves, hats, etc. And I love every one of them. Oh, no, I am falling for this man and am also still depressed.

We end the day by plotting out my new villain attire. He’s good at sketching out patterns for clothes, so I give him an aesthetic to go for - blue, corset lacing, asymmetrical skirt, off-the-shoulder, is this too Disney villain?, you know what I don’t care, hey, that looks great! (Eventually he actually helps me put that monstrosity together)

He sticks around. I gradually become more confident in my element, making sales, stealing more things, getting comfortable with THE VILLAIN LIFE, actually turning up a profit because Ramsey knows where the market is and is glad to show me, and hanging out with the Blasters on a regular basis in an abandoned library we’ve taken over as our lair (Giovanni says the word “Lair-brary” once and immediately regrets it and asks us all to forget he ever combined those syllables).

And I’m happy. Finally.

Then one day, in the library lair that is not a Lair-brary, there’s some shenanigan and a bookshelf almost falls on me and crushes me and Giovanni tackles me out of the way because THAT’S WHAT ANY DECENT VILLAIN BOSS WOULD DO FOR HIS PRECIOUS MINIONS and oh. Oh my God. If I didn’t have a crush on this man before, I LOVE him now. Oh, no. Oh, no... ;-)

That’s pretty much the origin story. I’m still kind of nursing the idea of doing an AU version of this in TBTC, and I would probably still wanna use “busts into WRONG PLACE, sees Rachel being mistreated, takes her to rob a place to feel better,” and I hope it’s not tacky to copy the same device. But yeah, I hope that wasn’t the 15 minutes of your life you’ll never get back