#had the chance to perform their deal‚ even if Nine kept his promise‚ the rest of the variants would never leave him alone

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

I know this may sound crazy but remember how in No Way Out, Sonic told Nine that he still considered him to be a friend while getting down on one knee and Nine calmed down? Later in Nine’s Lives, Nine says “Typical” when seeing Sonic run to the others and accused Sonic of betraying him when Sonic called the others his friends.

Nine was sort of acting like Sonic proposed to him and then cheated on him by being friends with the others.

Okay so first of all, I don't think you're crazy. During S3 there's actually plenty of evidence that Nine is jealous, both of the Tails variants and Sonic considering everyone else his friends.

One example that presents his specific kind of jealousy is during Episode 2 of Season 3, when Nine first appears to Sonic in New Yoke.

"Everything is collapsing... This is terrible!"

"Is it? That seems odd coming from you. As far as I can tell you only care about your own home."

Essentially what I'm getting at is this. I do believe that pre betrayal, Nine admittedly considered Sonic to be the most important person to him, and thought Sonic may have felt the same way. And the "betrayal" at the end of S2 hurt Nine very deeply. He had this image of Sonic in his head that was shattered by the finale, so he sort of instinctively switches to thinking the worst about Sonic because he can't trust that anything he thought before wasn't a lie. This is one of the reasons that he can't fathom Sonic caring about shatterspaces other than his own home.

But it's not just that he can't fathom it, it's that due to this deep hurt, Nine cannot allow himself to believe it.

Because if Sonic genuinely cares about the shatterverse as a whole, if he genuinely cares about saving all of these people, then to Nine, what made him the exception?

Sure, we the audience can see Sonic’s journey in Prime. We can see that by the end of S2, Sonic wanted to keep the shatterverse safe just as much as he wanted to bring back Green Hill. He wanted everyone to be alive and happy. But from Nine's pov here, he's just learned that Sonic lied to him, spoke honeyed words and manipulated him just to get to the prism. None of that is true, but he doesn't feel like Sonic actually cares for him or wants him. So at this point, for Sonic to put saving all of these people over saving his own home or genuinely worrying about their home makes Nine feel like the exception or that his feelings about Sonic must be wrong. Either one of those ideas he'd understandably like to avoid (because one means that Sonic is genuine with everyone except for him, and the other would mean to him that his feeling of betrayal and hurt feelings post S2 finale are misplaced and not allowed to be had, though he feels justified feeling hurt)

And that scene in S3 E3 No Escape is actually another big exemplifier of Nine's brand of jealousy and just how hurt he is.

"Don't worry. Beneath the surface, my new friends are far simpler than the flawed creatures you knew and loved. And all the more loyal for it."

Starting out strong, Nine takes a not so subtle shot at Sonic's friends while taking subtler shot at Sonic's loyalty, since Sonic had been his first and only friend.

"Ever wonder where we'd be if things had gone differently between us?"

"...Not anymore."

"I do. All the time."

"Not anymore." Implying that post the S2 finale he really had dwelled (at least for a time) on thoughts of how things could have been different. How he wished things could have gone differently.

And Nine gets visibly angry/frustrated when Sonic confesses he's always thinking about how things could have been different. Perhaps because it feels like a slap to the face, or feels hard to believe.

"Tch. You had your chance."

"...Right back at ya, bud."

And then, despite his anger, despite how he's been trying to get Sonic all along so he can drain his energy and save his home, Nine ignores Sonic's "should we get this over with". He puts on another one of those faces, similar to earlier when Sonic arrived and Nine talked about his "new friends". Perhaps to cover up exactly the way he's feeling in this moment with a veneer of superiority (he always did something similar when talking up Sonic to the Chaos Council).

"You know...after all this time...I think I finally understand you, Sonic."

...

"You wanna save everyone. Friends. Foes. Total strangers! You say it's because you're a hero and that's what heroes do, but deep down... After what you did—destroying your own home—it's the only way you can ever live with yourself. Even if that means you won't live at all."

And while I think Nine isn't incorrect—that there is a part of Prime!Sonic who's been acting out of selfishness, caring more about feeling like a good person than actually being one—these are still words from someone who feels betrayed by Sonic. I think there's a level to which Nine is seeing a part of Sonic no one else did, and also to a level which Nine is trying to recontextualize Sonic's more heroic/selfless seeming actions so he can reconcile them with how he feels about Sonic and sees him at this moment. In other words, while he's seeing a facet of Sonic he didn't see before, this is not all encompassing of who Prime Sonic is. It's just that perhaps by believing that Sonic's every seemingly selfless action is disingenuine, that all those nice words and intent to save people is just so Sonic can feel good rather that actually caring about anyone, then Nine doesn’t have to feel like the exception. Then he can see Sonic as someone who is pretending to care about all of this, and Sonic's other friends as fools who don't see what he (Nine) has seen.

But as I said, it's more complicated than that. Perhaps Nine is seeing a facet of Sonic that other people don't see or don't want to see, but Prime!Sonic is multifaceted. Perhaps he does want to hurry up and sacrifice himself in this scene because then he can finally feel like he's atoned for what he's done and he's absolved of/paid for his crimes, but that also doesn't mean he doesn't genuinely care about the lives of people in the shatterverse.

"If I don't make it, and you do, how do I know you'll keep your promise."

"Don't worry. Your 'friends' are safe. Once I have your energy, I can restore everything. They can have their silly lives in their silly spaces, as long as they leave me alone."

"Fair enough."

...

"And for what it's worth...I wouldda done the same for you."

"Don't lie to me..."

"I'm not���"

"DON'T!"

"Think whatever you want, but it's true. Even after everything you've done, everything we've been through. Together. Against each other. You're still my friend, Nine."

I really couldn't express more just how hurt Nine feels. That he doesn't believe Sonic would give anything up for him, even if he were to accept that Sonic would do that for everyone else. When he tells Sonic not to lie to him, frustrated, angry, voice wavering, I think it's because he can't take this again. If Sonic is lying just to manipulate him, if this isn't genuine, if he's just using him again, he can't take it again.

This is an incredibly intimate scene. With Sonic, standing face to face to Nine, inside Nine's safe space, his home that no one else has been into, behind the physical representation of the walls surrounding Nine's heart post betrayal, this is his first time all season really being allowed to speak to Nine directly. Here there's no one to perform to aside from each other.

But you can see that despite everything, Sonic still reaches Nine in this scene. It's not easy, but he reaches Nine's heart, leading Nine to start to believe in him again.

And that's why it's a pity the other variants show up when they do, using Sonic to breach Nine's walls. With the way Nine reacts after this happens, Sonic may as well have made Nine believe in that image of him again. Sonic may as well have made Nine believe that Sonic does care about him, that he'd do anything for him (or, at least, would give his life for him like he would for the others if it meant they could live), only to be the trojan horse that allowed the enemy™ to breach his safe space. The pretty lie.

At the beginning of S3 E4 Nine's Lives, Nine says "Predictable" when Sonic runs over to his friends. And, as anon mentioned, Nine says that Sonic has betrayed him for the last time, calling the deal off.

I wouldn't necessarily say here that Nine feels as if Sonic had cheated on him so to speak, but I would say that even if Nine doesn't see Sonic as a willing "trojan horse" here, Nine still feels like a fool for "falling for it again", for believing in Sonic. I think it's enough betrayal to Nine that Sonic would convince him that he cares about him and wants him to have a future too, only to then side with a bunch of people who want to beat Nine down and who would not let Nine be happy if Nine surrendered to them (from Nine's pov at least).

So in short, anon, I think you are seeing Nine's jealousy here. Even if he also has to believe Sonic is secretly fooling the others, to him this is a scene where Sonic is not only choosing them over him, but another example of Sonic (from Nine's pov) proving that he's a liar who doesn't care for Nine or his future/safety at all.

[marvelmadam08]

Baby Blues 11/?

Summary: Ace goes to his first doctor’s visit, and Alex checks in with her doctor.

Warnings: First shots, crying, doctor visits, slight jealousy. Fluffy Dad!Chris content. Body insecurities, health concerns, and mentions of sex.

A/N: Rest in Power to Chadwick Boseman, our Black Panther and King. He gave us so much while battling cancer, not just Black Panther. The work he has done in the amount of time he had left a mark, and cannot be replicated. Chadwick Boseman has been such a force in Hollywood that no one could ever forget him. My heart goes out to all his close friends and family.

Also, let’s not make this about Black Panther 2.

~~~~~~

6 Weeks Old

“I mean they can program a robot to perform surgery on a grape but they still have to jab a n-e-e-d-l-e into my baby’s skin for vaccinations.” Alex glared at a few of the other moms in the waiting room, eyeing Chris up and down with Ace. 

Chris fed him while Alex filled out the medical file. He was noisy drinking from the bottle, but he took to bottle feeding easier than Alex expected. She watched from the corner of her eye, Chris was a natural, jumping right into action whenever Ace needed something. Seeing him walk around the house with Ace never got old. He was always singing songs to him, some made up. Alex’s favorite so far was the one called ‘Doggies Are Friendly’, in attempts to get Ace to warm up to Dodger. No luck.

Overall seeing Chris Evans with a baby was enough to get any woman excited, and willing to give him more. So she could understand the gazes he got from the other moms, but that didn’t mean she had to just sit there and let them undress her husband with their eyes.

“Al, he can’t understand you.” He watched Ace, unaware of the extra eyes lusting after him

“He’s intuitive Chris, he knows what I mean." Alex frowned, thinking about the how upset Ace would be once he got his shots. She always thought her mother was being overprotective when she was younger but now she understood it completely. She could hear him crying now, and the thought made her eyes sting.

Chris finally looked up, after hearing the infliction in Alex’s voice ”What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t say that, we’re not gonna bottle up our feelings.” 

She half shrugged “I guess it’s a mental thing. I mean I know he has to get the shots- I just feel like I’m a monster, purposefully putting him through pain.”

“Baby, it’s a required check up, the first of many shots down the road. You aren’t a monster, you’re a mother.” 

“Evans?” the nurse called out from behind the counter

“Are you gonna be okay?” Chris asked as they stood, shifting Ace against his shoulder to burp him

“If you’re asking me if I’m gonna cry, I’m making no promises.” she quickly admitted

Alex hovered over the nurse while she weighed and measured Ace, and checked his heartbeat. Ace’s face when the cold stethoscope touched his chest was adorably deadpan. However, Chris was the one with all the questions, discussing development stages with the nurse the entire time. Going over Ace’s feeding and sleeping routine, asking if the amount of sleep was too little or too much. Would changing the baby wipes would cause any rashes. How soon would it be before hiding out if he was actually allergic to food or animals. And he jotted it all down in his phone, Alex stopped the nurse short when she offered to give Chris her number for any future questions.

“Al, I can hold him.” Chris offered once it was time for the vaccine shots

“No, it’s fine. I can handle it.” She kept Ace’s head turned away facing Chris. The nurse took a step closer, syringe in hand, Alex moved away slightly. “Sorry.”

The nurse tried again, Alex turned the other way.

“Mrs. Evans, I need you to stop moving him.”

“Al-”

“Okay, you hold him.” she conceded, before handing Ace over to Chris

She chewed her nail and watched from her new spot. Ace cried the second the nurse stuck him, Chris felt tears rising to his eyes. He went to wipe them away before anyone could see but more spilled over hearing the cries getting louder. Ace fidgeted against Chris, a heartbreaking attempt for him to move away from whatever stuck him.

“It’s okay baby.” Alex did her best to soothe him while the nurse prepped for another shot. She looked up at Chris, his cheeks wet but he kept his face straight, Alex wiped the tears away from her husband’s face before repeating “It’s okay baby.”

Seeing Ace’s lip poke out while the nurse moved in to stick him again nearly made Chris go into full defense mode, but he bit the inside of his cheek when the crying started again. Ace’s, not his.

“It’s okay honey, we’re all done with the shots.” the nurse soothed, covering the puncture points with small smiley face band-aids

“Yay, all done!” Alex clapped while Chris kissed the top of his son’s head to calm him “You okay?” Alex gave her husband some comforting back rubs

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He sniffled

"Good because now we have to go to my appointment."

***

After chewing down the nails on her left hand, Alex was half through her right one when she was called into her doctor’s exam room. Chris offered to go in with her, but she quickly declined, knowing she would have to be undressed for part, if not most, of the check-up. She done her own self-examination last night, seeing how different she looked down there. 

She didn’t want to be vain about it, but the first thing that popped in her head once she looked was how much she needed to get a wax. The second was equally as vain as it was humbling when she thought about having sex with Chris again. Her husband, AKA, Captain freaking America, who could eat to his hearts content and still come out looking as cut as the day she met him. Alex wanted to kick him and kiss him at the same time.

“Well Alex,” her doctor spoke, going over her notes “my main concern for you right now, is your blood pressure. It’s a little higher than usual, what’s your diet like at home?”

“More red meat than before, loads of pasta.” Alex paused to think “I tried string peas, y’know just for research purposes, surprisingly good.”

She chuckled “I tended to lean towards the squash when my first kid was born, but peas were a close second. What about stress?”

Alex shrugged “Fine, I guess. I mean, I can deal with it.”

“Alex, you can’t take this lightly. Stress can be just as harmful as smoking, for both you and your son. You are still breast feeding right?”

“Yes, and I started pumping.”

She jotted down some more notes “Mhmm, and how’s that going? No issues? Low milk supply? Pain while nursing?”

“Aside from the nipple chaffing, not really.” Alex picked at her nails, her doctor noticed

“Alex, I can’t help if you’re not one hundred percent honest with me. It’s bad enough we have doctors that downplay our symptoms because of a bullshit theory that Black people, specifically Black women, have higher pain tolerance. Don’t put on a brave face, not when it comes to your health.”

“Well when you put it like that- I hate pumping, I hate feeding sometimes too. It’s like a bunch of pins and needles sticking me when I do it, just sucking the life out of me. I don’t recognize my body anymore, and I’m warning you now, it’s not pretty down there. As for the stress, my husband and I have been fighting over what’s best for Ace, and our marriage. Which makes me concerned for when I go back to working. My Dad damn near broke his back, my son won’t sleep for longer than an hour, and I think he hates our family dog.” Alex exhaled a sharp breath 

“You feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“If you don’t like the feel you have when pumping when why do it?”

“Chris wants to be included in feed Alexander, my son, which I get. He’s gonna be back and forth between working and home again, so he wants his chance to bond with him.”

“But breast feeding is also uncomfortable to you?”

“Only when he fights trying to latch, but once he does and he’s calm, it’s worth it.”

“Have you ever considered formula? Lots of new moms do it, even rotated between that and breast milk. It’s actually proven to help both the mom and the baby.”

“We’ve talked about it, I voted against it.”

“I’m not saying you should, ultimately it’s your choice, but I will recommend, giving it a shot considering the stress you might be going through.” she scribbled down a few more notes “Now physically, how do you feel?”

“In my vagina?”

“There too. Please scoot forward and lay back for me.”

Alex followed orders and put her legs in the stirrups “Mostly tired, out of everything I’m exhausted. I’ve been walking to try and slim down a bit, but the weight isn’t going anywhere.”

“That’s to be expected, a lot of new moms hope for the baby weight to drop right off.” Alex’s doctor explained while pulling on her gloves “However, a lot of it is your uterus trying to shrink back to it’s regular size after being stretched out for nine months. Perfectly normal to like your body isn’t the same anymore, because it’s not. It gets easier the more kids you have.”

Alex chuckled “I don’t plan on having another one for a while.”

“Are you taking birth control?”

“No, Ace’s spit up on my clothes is all the birth control I need right now.” Alex shifted slightly “Plus I don’t really get in the mood too often now a days. Not sure if it’s emotional or mental but I’m just not ready to bring intimacy back in just yet.”

“Well physically, you’re good to go. Stitches are all healed, no signs of infection or tears. I will recommend going easy though, as well as a birth control, in case your mood changes.”

“Thanks, what do you recommend for my marriage?” Alex asked jokingly

“I have an acquaintance who’s a marriage counselor. I can give you her contact information if you like.”

“Um- I think I’ll pass this time Doc.”

“Okay then, I’ll let you get dressed and just talk to Toni at the desk before you leave to set up your next appointment.”

Chris stood once he saw Alex reenter the waiting room, Ace was fast asleep in the carrier.

“What did your doctor say? How are you doing?”

Alex did her best not to hesitate “A little concerned about my diet, said my blood pressure was a bit high, but overall-”

“Are you okay?”

“Chris, let me finish.” she gave him a reassuring smile “I gotta fix my diet, limit my stress and my blood pressure will be fine.”

“What did she say about- other things?” he hinted, a light blush creeping to his cheeks

“Well- my insatiable husband- I should wait a little longer. Nothing is wrong it’s just what she recommends.”

Chris nodded “Okay, not a problem.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders “We’ll wait, doctor’s orders.”

“Doctor’s orders.”

[csykora]

hey i was reading your post about evgeny kusnetsov and alexander semin (the friendship necklace one) and i got into hockey somewhat recently but i've heard/read some things about sasha and i was wondering if you could give me a rundown/what your perspective is? you mentioned cultural assimilation, but also social class, ethnic identity, ability, neurodiversity, and trauma and i was really curious what exactly you were talking about??

First, that’s cool you’re getting into hockey! How’s that going? I hope you’re having fun. Second…thanks for making me reread my old writing as we come up on the New Year ;)

That was one of my very first posts, and I think it reads like it—I definitely wasn’t much of a sports writer back then, and (I don’t think) I tell stories quite the same way now.

I don’t think some of those words I used mean much, except that I was angry. So I’d like to spell out what made, makes, me angry. The first half of this is stuff I’ve said before, more organized, with jokes. The second half is not fun, but it’s also something I think NHL fans have a duty to think about. So I want to try to talk about Lokomotiv.

Sasha Semin is the star and captain of a quite good, more fun KHL team. Today he was named to the All-Star team, actually. KHL All-Stars is a magical place where the players sing acoustic covers and routinely set things on fire, so hopefully they’ll let him bring his sword.

(I love the KHL)

Before that, he was the cool big brother of a generation of Russian stars. In the early 2000s the first post-Soviet young players were coming of age and working out what post-Soviet, now-Russian style hockey was going to be. In that moment we got two spectacular players: Sasha from Siberia, and Sasha from Moscow.

The Soviet style of play was supposed to be egalitarian—players skated the opposition sick and pass-pass-passed, always giving it to a teammate instead of taking chances, until whoever happened to have it had a sure shot. The Alexanders grew up in that style, and they grew up fuck-off strong. They started feeding off all their teammates’ passes and beginning to gun down goalies with one of two shots: Alex Ovechkin had the one-timer, and Alex Semin had the best wristshot in the game.

Did you watch Vegas’ magic season? Pull some clips of Wild Bill Karlsson. Imagine if he had upper body strength but was just as light on his feet. That’s how inexplicably electric young Semin was.

His and then Ovi’s performances at World Juniors were so explosive they convinced American businesses to risk money on something new. Semin was oldest, and the Capitals kind of sucked, so they got him first. Then a few years later they still sucked, so they got Ovi too. Then the two of them got Nicklas Backstrom and matching line promise necklaces and played really good hockey together for a number of years.

(If anyone would like 3,000 more nicer words about the above subjects, @ me)

A couple things shaped what happened after that:

▪ Semin’s unique wrister, twisted to be almost as hard as a slapper, is like spending every night downing jägerbombs with a shot of carpal tunnel. He seems to have chronic wrist and hand problems from inflammation, with apparent flare-ups that sometimes got rest and sometimes didn’t. So that’s a factor—not the only, but a—in why he had periods of poor shooting.

▪ Either because he never really went to school or just because he’s wired that way, Semin seems to suck at math.

▪ Ovi’s hot stick and the Sid Incident (Sidcident?): 

In their first interview together, Ovi described him and Sid as “partners”, and Sid asked for Ovi’s shirt. But over the first few years the League swung from branding them as buddies to making money off a rivalry, and Don Cherry started a string of bitter conflicts with Ovi.

Local journalists who knew him wrote about seeing Ovi flinch in interviews. They described him starting to hesitate, pale, tired, doubling back over answers to make sure they were watertight. We now know from Tatyana Ovechina that he was spending a lot of nights on the phone back home with her, asking if he was letting everybody down.

Sasha, who’s basically that guy on twitter who found kittens in his sock drawer and adopted them all, but with little brothers, got protective. He told Russian media that he thought Sid was a good player, but not his favorite, and said that the way the League was pushing media attention could make someone a ‘star’ even if they weren’t that good. The phrase he used means “dead wood”, or boring, useless person. The grammar he used means something like “even if he were (ie, he isn’t)”.

I think this was objectively very funny. And I still hold that anyone saying the level of exposure Sid endured was good for him or anyone sounds like the stage parents on Toddlers & Tiaras.)

But people get protective of their person, and most won’t stop for a grammar lesson before deciding what they think something meant. There was a media blitz, mostly accusing Sasha of wanting the attention Sid got, which made sense, if you didn’t know Russian or two things about him—that he’s best friends with Alex Ovechkin, and that he’d only just started to practice English with local reporters after several years. If he were an egomaniac, he was bad at it.

From his reaction it seems like he hadn’t thought his comment was that wild, and wasn’t prepared for the backlash. Next time he talked to local reporters, he brought the translator back. Asked routine questions he’d been getting for a couple years, he flinched and turned to them to rehearse every word of his answer. Asked what was up with the translator, he said “I just don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Although teammates like Mike Knuble, Jeff Schultz, Backstrom and Ovechkin kept talking about his personable, joking side, and we’d see it plenty in practice, he started insisting to reporters that he didn’t know English and that he was boring anyway, claiming “I’m just an ordinary person, just like everybody else. The only difference is I’m out there on the ice and that’s it. I’d just rather talk about hockey.”

–> Without math or English, Semin’s career depended on his agent, Mark Gandler.

Try not to depend on Mark Gandler.

As the Globe and Mail put it, “to many Canadian hockey fans, Mark Gandler is nothing less than the Prince of Darkness.”

Mark Gandler’s business was based on presenting himself as a friendly face to young Russian athletes, and pissing of NHL franchises. I’m pro-pissing off the NHL in general; my problem with Gandler is that if he was sincerely trying to get the best deal for him clients, he was bad at it..

When anyone talks about something Semin decided, they’re talking about what Gandler decided for him. Semin was honest with the media that he had no fucking clue what Gandler was asking for in negotiations. The Caps and Gandler couldn’t agree on anything, so while Ovechkin was locked down for life, Semin was only ever signed to one and two year bridge contracts, constantly up, his performance a constant subject of discussion and every wobble obvious.

Note: the following is the bit where I got angry and A. asked why the hell I was looking at photos of this and told me to go lie on the floor and do my butterfly exercises for a while.

One year Semin’s game really sucked. It didn’t help that Ovechkin was sucking too—they both got benched, Coach got fired, and still the Capitals just kind of sucked. Around the league, Russian stars were mostly fizzling. That was the 2011-2012 season. 

On September 7, 2011, the airplane carrying the Lokomotiv Yaroslavl team, coaching staff, and four youth players had overrun the runway, struck a signal tower, crashed, and caught fire moments after takeoff. Every member of the team onboard was killed.

I can’t understand, so certainly can’t explain, how that day changed the community. I’m not trying to speculate too much on anyone’s personal situation, but to point out how much more profound it was than just some other league’s trivia.

I don’t think there’s a mainstream North American parallel for the hockey community in Eastern Europe. Players are raised in a small number of hockey schools, often at that time in dormitories like the one where Semin lived in Chelyabinsk. While young North Americans are quite strictly separated by age, the Russians are growing up with older and younger kids from the same school all around them. Older teens are encouraged to mentor younger ones—Kuznetsov’s attachment to Semin is endearing, but not really so weird. Stanislav Yarushin is several years older than Sasha, and he befriended him, and then down to Kuz. In a community like that, any one person is intimately connected to the others.

From the coaches to the rookies, someone from three generations across nine nations was killed in the disaster. Each of them was connected not only to their peers, but to players older and younger than them, and to the city that raised them. Every Russian, Czech, and Slovak in the NHL lost at least one person they knew deeply.

Just that spring, Kuznetsov won gold at World Juniors with a little clique of friends. Vladimir Tarasenko, Artemi Panarin, and Dmitry Orlov are stars now, and two of the others are dead.

Kuznetsov is the one draped in the flag. #14, with the awesome hair, smiling, is Danylo Sobchenko. #12, reaching up towards the cup, is Yuri Urychev. Urychev had been injured, and supposed to stay home the day of the disaster, but he asked to be allowed to fly with them, so he could cheer for his friends.

Tarasenko himself was born in Yaroslavl, and his father played for Lokomotiv; he knew even more of the team, and if he’d taken a hometown offer instead of signing with Sibir, he would have died that day too.

The thing about a loss like this is that it keeps budding with new losses. It hadn’t been a problem with the plane, or a freak accident. Over the following month a miserable investigation revealed that the airline had fudged documents, and the pilots just didn’t know what they were doing. So as well as losing friends, the younger players lost any trust that people in authority were going to keep them safe in the future.

After the disaster, Ovechkin, Semin, and Malkin had to hold their phones waiting while Alexander Galimov (a friend from nationals) was found with burns over 80% of his body, stabilized, transported, placed in a medically-induced coma and ventilated. He finally died five days later. The day he died Tarasenko and Kuznetsov and all the others got back on their own planes and kept playing, so the NHLers just had to keeping waiting up for them, too. Now Tarasenko and Kuznetsov have little brothers on those planes. They’re better fucking planes now, because the disaster changed Russian law, but they’re still not great.

In a grim way, Semin and Ovechkin were lucky, because they had each other. At the time almost no NHL team had as many Eastern Europeans as the Caps, meaning almost all the others were alone.

Of course it just wasn’t possible for the North American public to grieve with them the way that Europe did, but how quickly it was boxed away and forgotten as a factor in players’ lives just…sucks.

You don’t just grieve somebody when you lose them; people who aren’t sure what to say will say it fades with time, but what it really does is rise and fall in waves. You grieve them when you lose them, and again when you’re as old as they were and realize how insufficient it really was, and again, when you’re older than they’ll ever be, when you’re old enough to see children their age. Like injuring your wrist, you can get back to work, but never back to exactly what you were before. 

Five years later, when Tarasenko scored his 100th goal, he dedicated it to Sobchenko and Urychev. 

Most of a decade later, Alex Ovechkin wears the Lokomotiv crest on his chest protector, over his heart.

So if we know all that, we can start to imagine why they sucked at hockey.

Actually, after a slow start to the season, Sasha sucked the least of all the Capitals. Always a stronger possession player than Ovechkin, Sasha actually recovered after the Caps brought in Dale Hunter, who ripped up the Goals First, Goals Always game plan and tried to make Ovi play defense. Sasha ended the season with the best possession metrics on the team (yes, including Nicke Backstrom). 

His goal-scoring didn’t recover, but that was because Coach Dale was basically treating him like Ovi’s security blanket, putting him on the second line with Mojo so Ovi couldn’t cuddle him until Ovi backchecked. Mojo (this is a Science fact) is not Nicke Backstrom.

The reason the Capitals traded Semin is they desperately needed to trade someone to make up for the team’s collective failures that year, he could be traded due to his shitty contracts, and he was worth trading. 

I’m not actually angry the Caps traded Semin. It made sense. I am mad the Habs did, because it was one of many decisions made by Marc Bergevin coughing up a heavily-gelled hairball on a depth chart, but hey.

Sports is hard. I don’t mean that teams should keep players who aren’t playing the way that team needs them to out of sympathy. I mean that it’s possible to say that Semin or Ovechkin sometimes play badly without saying they don’t care. It’s possible to name a practical problem without making it a moral one.

Because when we see someone not doing what we want, and we make it moral, we say, “well gosh, I can’t imagine a reason why they aren’t jazzed to do what I want right now, so there can’t be a reason, they just suck,” we’re always wrong, because we miss shit!

In 2011, the common complaint that Russian players “don’t seem to care” went from boring to breathtakingly cruel. 

It’s a collective failure of empathy, where a lot of us didn’t even know that empathy’s needed. How many NHL fans don’t know Lokomotiv existed? If we don’t even know what weight another person’s carrying, we can’t possibly judge them rightly! 

The athletes we’re watching aren’t just cartoon characters for American consumption, who always act and react in easily-readable ways. They’re people with beliefs, behaviors, and problems which might be meaningfully different from what we’re personally familiar with and really hard to sympathize with.  

But when we see someone struggling to do what we want them to, we have to wonder why, and look around to learn more about moments like this, and then offer empathy. I believe that if we have information, most people use it to be kind. So we really fucking need historical information.

I’m back on the floor and don’t have a closer, so here’s a picture of a cat with big mitts like Sasha. His name is Peppers.

[chaewonrk]

starlight.

       word count: 1,817. 20starbright2 : nova entertainment callback.            performing move by little mix (00:29 - 01:29) - dancing / singing / charisma.            outfit: top, shorts, shoes.

chaewon couldn’t hear any yells of her name from jie’s room, so she could only assume that whatever this star bright e-mail was, that jie wasn’t sent one. skeptically, prepared for the worst as usual, chaewon tapped on the notification without reading any more of the preview information. good or bad, she’d rip off whatever they wanted to tell her like a band aid. 

nova entertainment was interested in her. it wasn’t kt or royal like she’d hoped, but she supposed she had listed and*roma as one of her musical influences. that was basically as good as putting down nova as her third choice. she was in half a mind to turn them down. maybe she would have, if it weren’t for the voice in her that sounded suspiciously like yuzu once again reminding chaewon of her own advice -- take the opportunity you’ve been given. what’s the worst that could happen? they tell her no? it wasn’t much, but it was still scary. if they turned her down, would her confidence survive it? chaewon was only just picking herself back up from her last bit of a wobble. 

but on the other hand, maybe they’d say yes. 

the possibility was enough to have her jumping off her bed to burst into jie’s room and tell her about the news, and ask if she had any of her own. either way, at least one of them was going to need a new outfit for her audition. 

nova was famous for their dancers. she’d mentioned in her form and interview that she studied ballet. was that what piqued their interest? or was it her other dance experience? but, maybe they wanted to see her guitar skills, her more out of the box skillset. after a couple of nights of tossing and turning, watching back recordings of her dance classes from back at soundbox, and her routines and guitar covers that she’d posted to her youtube channel over the years, chaewon decided to dance for her audition. she assumed that her knowledge of an instrument would be something fun to break out for a special stage some time if she ever debuted. as an idol hopeful, they’d probably be more interested in her dancing. jinsoul’s suggestion that she go dressed as a princess to play them taylor swift’s love story was tempting though. if dancing failed, she could always break out her guitar next time. or ... it could be a good back up idea, maybe, if she really couldn’t settle on a choreography to perform. one of the outfits she and jie got was a really princessy floral dress. 

she was currently leaning more towards one of the shorts combos though. something bright and energetic, perfect for the summer. she wanted her performance to give off that kind of vibe too. after going through all of the routines she’d taught at her soundbox class last year, chaewon eventually settled on move by little mix. it was fun, bouncy and she could demonstrate her fluency in english alongside her dancing and singing. she also, after a few runthroughs, found that she was able to decently sing it while she was dancing. there wasn’t any point in choosing a routine that she couldn’t catch her breath to sing with. her voice wasn’t anywhere near as jazzy as perrie’s in the pre-chorus, but she could sing it in her own way. the rest of what she had to sing was no problem. chaewon spent the rest of her days in preparation rehearsing, and when she wasn’t, she was still singing the pre-chorus as she walked around the apartment, practicing putting more power behind her voice. 

she wouldn’t stand for doing anything less than her best. she knew she wasn’t the best out of everyone, and for that reason, she wasn’t sure that being the best park chaewon would be enough. by the time callback day came around, chaewon only felt bad for jie and their neighbours, who had to put up with her singing the same lines over and over again. she’d put herself through having to do this, so how could she have felt bad for herself?

chaewon promised she wouldn’t feel bad about it, regardless of what the outcome ended up being.

on her relatively short journey from seodaemun-gu to hongdae, chaewon listened to move on repeat, practicing in her head every step she was ideally going to take in the audition room -- from the moment she walked in, to the moment she walked out. it ended up being very good that she left a little bit early, because chaewon managed to walk past the nova entertainment building three times before she realized that she was just looking in the wrong direction. she never was very good at reading maps. once she got to the door, a sudden sense of anxiety pulled at her, forcing her to take a step back. chaewon looked to her side, hoping she could will one of her friends into magically appearing next to her. no such luck. just plain old park chaewon shuffling from foot to foot outside nova entertainment’s front door.

with a deep breath and with all of the advice she’d given her friends playing in her mind, chaewon stepped pulled open the door, stepped through, and let it close behind her before she had the chance to change her mind. she didn’t want to be on file as the girl who didn’t even show up for her callback with nova after she accepted it. instilled with a new surge of determination, chaewon marched herself up to the reception desk, proudly presenting herself to the member of staff who guided her to a corridor outside of what she could only assume was a practice studio of some kind. her suspicions were proven correct, when she managed to slyly catch a glimpse of the room behind the door as a guy left, presumably having just wrapped his own audition. there was a panel in there, which chaewon knew there would be. she felt less nervous having seen them for just a second. they were just like any other audience at the end of the day.

finally, it was her turn. having fully warmed up while waiting, chaewon tossed her hair back, rolled her shoulders a couple of extra times for good measure, and entered the audition room. she smiled warmly at the panel as she entered and took her place at the center of the room, taking an extra second to give a gracious nod to hyun bin himself.

“hello!” chaewon bowed to the panel, and as she came up she framed her chin with her hands like a flower. “i’m park chaewon! i’m twenty-one years old. i’m excited to perform for you today! i’ve prepared a song and a dance.” the panel’s silence was intimidating and slightly disconcerting, but chaewon kept on smiling. she turned to the staff member she’d given her audio to and gave them the nod that she was ready for her minute to start. one minute. one minute was all she had, so it would have to be all she needed.

you know that i've been waiting for you don't leave me standing all by myself cause i ain't looking at no one else

chaewon’s voice rang out crisply, singing voice as chirpy and bright as ever. she started off with a bouncy little spin, hair whipping around while she turned, leg kicking up behind her and one hand forming a finger gun as she sent the judging panel a wink on the word you. as she transitioned from her freestyle section into the real choreography, chaewon thanked herself for picking a song like move, where the challenging vocal part for her was at the start, so she didn’t have to deal with it later, when she’d inevitably be more out of breath. even though she was singing at the top of her range, chaewon kept wearing a smile. she’d practiced so hard for that very reason -- if she just got through the pre-chorus, it was all plain sailing from there on. chaewon was doing her best to show them that the lyrics were no coincidence. she had been waiting for a chance like this. she’d been waiting for them.

hey, get your back off the wall don't you get comfortable looking so hot i think that i might fall feeling like it's my birthday like christmas day came early just what i want so when we move you move

once the vocals got easier, chaewon took the opportunity to really turn on her charm, as if the panel could actually be tempted to get out of their seats and move with her. with her flirty smile and the cock of her head at think that i might fall when she came back to face the panel after her twirl, chaewon couldn’t deny that she was actually feeling herself. she’d always been a big believer that practice meant perfect, and she’d spent the week practicing nonstop. the pay off in the performance felt immensely satisfying.

get your back off the wall don't you get comfortable looking so hot i think that i might fall feeling like it's my birthday like christmas day came early just what i want so when we move you move

the hey! in the background track, when chaewon skipped forward, hands in the air, signaled her cue to take the energy up another notch. she’d been at a solid eight before, but in that moment, she took it to a nine. as nervous as she had been when first stepping into the nova entertainment building, the nerves had almost completely converted into adrenaline and buzz for the performance while she warmed up outside the audition room -- now, chaewon was able to put her best foot forward, and show the judges the realest version of park chaewon, a girl whose best self came out when she was on stage. with a grin and a cute ‘come hither’ motion, chaewon dropped low to the ground, coming back up and capturing the mix of cutie-sexy that she wanted to show off, hairography and all. 

i know that you wanna but you can't cause you gotta stay cool in the corner when the truth is that you wanna move so move

it was time to turn it up to ten. come on, hyun bin, come on, panel. when she snapped back up from her bend and snap moment, chaewon gave a smile especially to the ceo-man himself.

i know that you wanna but you can't cause you gotta stay cool in the corner when the truth is that you wanna move so move

she wanted the lyrics to be true. even if she had only had a minute, no matter how much she wished she’d had only thirty more seconds to show them her choreography in full, chaewon hoped more than anything that even though the panel had to stay silent, had to stay cool, that she’d inspired them to want to move too. heart beating fast as she lowered herself into her final position, chaewon finished up by tossing her hair back and holding up a finger heart to the judges. cheeks flushed pink, chaewon popped up quickly once the music cut and gave the camera and the panel another, deeper bow. 

“thank you so much for the opportunity.” she almost thanked them in english rather than korean, still slightly stuck in the world of the song. with one last smile, hands coming together in an act of gratitude, chaewon made her exit.

she didn’t know what they thought, or how she would react to the results, but for the time being, chaewon was proud of the fact that she’d practiced her hardest and performed her best.

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 12: Love is the Drug

As the clock struck nine, Law escorted Nami back up the narrow stairway to the main street, gallantly helping her back into her coat as they waited outside for Ikkaku.

Leaning against the doorway, he smirked down at her. “I’m going to go ahead and assume my choice for our victory dinner was to your liking?”

“You know what they say; ‘to assume makes an ass of you and me’,” Nami quipped, guard back up. It had been a nice dinner, to be perfectly honest, but the realization of how easy it would be to get hooked on Law’s seduction had shaken her.

After their dance, he’d led them back to the booth and ordered another bottle of champagne, settling in to watch the performers until it was time for her to go. The problem was, in order to get the best view of the stage, the two of them had basically had to cuddle up in the middle of the booth. Law had refrained from wrapping his arm around her waist again, but somehow, the way he’d instead rested it along the back of her seat, his long fingers just able to absently brush against the bare skin of her shoulder, had been worse. The pinpricks of heat they left behind with every casual touch had traveled through her veins like poison, settling in her lower belly and making her hyper aware of his presence for the next half-hour.

Yellow eyes rolled in mock exasperation. “Is it really so difficult to admit you had a good time with me?”

“I’m doing you a favor; with the way that place strokes your ego, your head will swell to the point where you won’t be able to walk through the Tang’s doors.”

He snorted, pushing away from the door frame to stand up straight. “How considerate of you. And how much are you charging for this service?”

Resting her back against the side of the building, Nami peered through the foggy streets, hoping to catch sight of Ikkaku. “I’ll cut you a break and say the cost of those four bottles of champagne we drank. Of course, you still owe me 75,000 belli per day for the rest of the time I’ve been providing this service, plus 300% interest,” she stated, sticking her tongue out at him. Even though she knew their banter would quickly turn to flirting, she couldn’t help herself. It came as naturally as breathing at this point.

“What a coincidence; that happens to be the same amount I’ve been charging you for room and board, plus medical expenses.”

“Liar! That was never in our deal!”

“I never agreed to cover it, either. You also still owe me for your lovely jewelry,” he chuckled, reaching out to run his fingers over the shimmering barrettes. “I believe that was 30,000 belli for the set, plus an additional 50,000 for the diamond hairpins. Oh, and you promised to pay me back with interest, too.”

She shifted her stance so he was no longer touching her, hoping the motion was subtle enough that he wouldn’t see it as a sign of weakness. For extra measure, she glared at him, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip with more confidence than she truly felt. “Well, maybe you should have brought that up after the mission.”

“Give me some credit, Nami-ya; I’m not going to shake down an exhausted, potentially traumatized woman for money,” he drawled as he tucked a stray lock of sunset hair behind her ear. The hot tip of his fingers brushed against the sensitive shell, and Nami fought to suppress a shiver, though she was certain from the way his smirk widened that she’d given some other subtle cue that he’d sparked her arousal.

She was really going to have to watch herself now. If Law was as good at reading her body’s tells as he claimed, it was going to be so much harder to claim she wasn’t interested. For the sake of keeping things professional, the Surgeon of Death needed to be kept at arm’s length, otherwise the next nine months were going to be hell.

Abandoning subtlety and jerking away from his touch, she snapped, “Fine, I’ll pay you when I get back to the ship. But only at 0.1% interest.”

“That seems pretty low.”

“I never specified, so that’s all you’re getting.”

“Hmmm, considering how much you like to weasel your way out of things, I think I’d rather you pay me back now. And if you don’t have cash, I’m happy to take another form of payment,” he said, leaning his forearm against the wall above her head and grinning mischievously down at her. “I’ll forgive your debt for one kiss on the lips.”

Instinctively arching her back to better look up at him, she scowled defiantly. “Kisses from me are worth 800,000 belli each, so I’d be taking a loss on that. No deal.”

“Kiss or pay up, Nami-ya,” he teased as he caressed her jaw, his hot breath, which smelled deliciously of champagne and whiskey, dancing over the pale skin of her throat. “You should know nothing in life is free.”

Luckily for the redhead, out of the corner of her eye Nami spotted Ikkaku approaching, so she ducked under Law’s arm, tossing over her shoulder as she dashed off, “Everything is free if you take it without paying!”

To her surprise, Ikkaku, having heard her parting quip, laughed and grabbed her arm, leading her down a dozen winding side-streets in a dead sprint. When they finally stopped to catch their breath, she winked. “Well. I promised a rescue, but it looks like you were managing fine on your own.”

“The assist was still appreciated,” Nami said with a grin, bumping their hips together. “Ready to party?”

Slinging her arm around the redhead’s shoulder, Ikkaku replied excitedly as she led her inside, “Hell yeah! Our long-overdue Girls’ Night has come at last!”

The bar, Venus, wasn’t nearly as extravagant as Ruby 8, but it was illuminated with cool blue lights that gave the place an unearthly glow, large glass tables, cushy couches, and plenty of attractive male waiters ready to serve the lovely ladies that come through the door. It seemed that, on top of being Ladies’ Night, there was a two-for-one special drink called Hypnotique on the menu. This resulted in a fairly impressive turnout despite being a new establishment as several groups of girls, lured by cheap drinks and lack of creepy men, had flocked to the place.

Luckily, there was still room at the long marble bar, and Nami and Ikkaku quickly claimed a pair of empty stools. Before they could even open their mouths, a tall, pale-haired bartender pulled out a pair of martini glasses. He was well-built, had intense green eyes, and flashed them one of those boyish smiles that could easily make a weak-willed lass melt like butter. “First ones are on me,” he said with a wink. “It’s the least I can do for such beautiful ladies.”

Giggling and fluttering her eyelashes, Nami cooed, “How gallant! Thank you!”

“Wow. Free drinks already?” Ikkaku asked suspiciously, eyeing him up with an unimpressed frown. “Bold to assume you already know what we’d like.”

Nami elbowed her friend in the side. Free drinks were rarely something to turn down, and she certainly understood why any man would treat Ikkaku; the engineer looked absolutely stunning in the short, body-hugging silver dress. The curves her jumpsuit usually hid were on full display, proving that for all her tomboyish personality, she had a great figure. Dark, straightened locks fell enticingly around her shoulders, and her makeup was minimal but smokey, enhancing her umber brown eyes.

The bartender, who’s ID tag stated his name was Mandōreku, didn’t seem dissuaded. “Hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? When a man has a chance to win a woman as beautiful as you’s attention, it’d be a crime to waste it.” He leaned across the bar towards the dark-haired beauty, whispering conspiratorially, “Besides, I’m positive you’ll like it; Hypnotique is my own recipe. If it’s a hit tonight, the boss promised me a special bonus. So yeah, first one’s free if you promise to give a good review.”

Ikkaku’s thin eyebrows furrowed a moment before finally nodding in agreement, far more accepting of his practical reason than his flattery. “I don’t give praise lightly, so it’d better be the best damn thing I’ve ever tasted,” she warned.

“If you’re not hooked after tonight, I’ll cut off my nose as penance,” he said confidently before turning to finish fixing their drinks.  

With the handsome man suitably occupied, Ikkaku turned to Nami with a teasing smirk. “Now that that’s taken care of; spill. I want to hear all about how your date with Dr. Heart Stealer went.”

“It wasn’t a dat—wait. You knew about that song?” Nami asked, gob smacked. “Why didn’t you warn me?!”

“Warn you that the boss had his own theme song or warn you about how sexy it is?”

“It wasn’t that sexy,” she grumbled unconvincingly.

“Uh huh. So, you weren’t even a little turned on?”

Pink dappled her cheeks as she recalled the suggestive lyrics and the way Law had held her close as they danced, her curves flush against him so she could feel every muscle ripple as they glided across the dance floor. “Can we change the subject? You promised me five consecutive minutes with no talk about Law tonight,” she replied with a pout, hoping the blue lighting hid her embarrassed flush.

“Fine, fine. But I’m counting the past minute.” The two martini glasses were placed in front of them, both containing a fruity, sky-blue cocktail with a drop of dark purple juice floating down towards the bottom like squid ink. Ikkaku took a sip and smacked her lips approvingly. “Ok, I’ll admit it; this is good,” she acknowledged.

Mandōreku beamed proudly. “Told ya so. Want me to bring you another once you’re done?”

“Fine. You can open a tab for us, too.”

“Sure thing, gorgeous,” he said with a wink, walking off to attend some other customers.

As she sipped on her own drink, Nami smirked. “He’s totally into you.” After all the teasing Ikkaku gave her over Law, there was no way she was going to miss the opportunity to return the favor.

Unfortunately, instead of showing even a hint of a blush, the engineer merely waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever. He’s not bad looking, but he’s only into me because of the dress. If he saw me in uniform, there’s no way I’d be getting free drinks.”

“Give yourself some credit—you make that jumpsuit look damn good.”

“Oh, I know I do, but I prefer a guy who thinks I’m irresistible in motor oil and baggy clothes as much as slinky dresses and lipstick.”

“And those are hard to come by, huh?”

“Big time.” Her full lips turned up in a smirk. “You should have seen the crew when I walked down the hall in this dress. They always seem to forget what a hot piece of ass I am, so it did my ego good to see them trip over themselves. Penguin literally walked into a wall he was so distracted.”

“I don’t blame him. I can barely keep my eyes off you,” she giggled, easily imagining the first mate’s dumb-struck face. The man might have been one of the more sensible Hearts, but he was still weak to a pretty woman. “But you should give Mandōreku a chance—maybe he is the kind of guy who would go gaga over a dirty engineer.”

“Please, he’s flirting because it’s his job—make a girl feel pretty so she’ll buy more booze. It’s no different from when you hit on a guy so you can steal his wallet.”

“Ok, ok!” Nami laughed, conceding the point. “But you don’t get to tease me about my lack of sex life if you’re just as picky as I am.”

“I’m not picky; I just know what I want. I know what you want, too. Tall, dark, scheming, dominating, dangerous…”

Rolling her eyes, the navigator slowly sipped her cocktail. It was fruity and tasted strongly of pomegranate and strawberries, but a sharp, sour note and the burn of alcohol cut through the sweetness nicely. “Couldn’t even make it five minutes, huh?”

“Technically, I didn’t bring up anyone specific. But fine, here’s a question I desperately need answered,” Ikkaku said, brow furrowing as she turned to face her, long legs crossed and drink in hand. “How the hell did a girl as gorgeous as you manage to stay a virgin on the high seas?”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Nami hesitated before replying, “It…it was partially by choice, but mostly I just never had the time to invest in a relationship. I had to earn 100 million belli if I wanted to buy back my village. Personal relationships would have been a distraction. Plus…my captain at the time would have slaughtered anyone who so much as touched me.” Even if he hadn’t been determined to keep her in his clutches, Arlong’s casual attitude towards killing humans would have ensured she’d avoid relationships to keep their blood off her hands. “Even a one-night stand wasn’t worth the risk. I mean, what if I got pregnant? That bastard wouldn’t hesitate to hold a baby hostage if it meant I’d have to work for him forever.” She shuddered at the thought. Though she often imagined children in her distant future, she’d get a hysterectomy without anesthesia before letting such a monster gain that kind of power over her.

“And your captain never decided to claim you for himself?”

The thought of Arlong bearing any amount of physical attraction towards her made her stomach lurch. “If there was one good thing about being a prisoner of Fishmen who saw humans as repulsive scum, it’s that sex with me was the last thing on their minds.”

“You’re lucky,” the engineer said softly, knocking back the rest of her drink. “A lot of girls have to suck it up and take it.”

Brown eyes widened as sick realization dawned. “Did you—”

Ikkaku shook her head. “Got groped a lot at my old engineering job. No matter how many times I complained about it, my boss always looked the other way; at least, until I’d threaten to bash someone’s face in. Then I was the one who faced docked wages.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“Couldn’t afford it,” she replied sadly, running her finger around the rim of her martini glass. She paused briefly as Mandōreku swooped in to replace their drinks with fresh ones. Thankfully he didn’t linger, and Ikkaku continued, “It was a shit port, but the only one with any real mechanic jobs, and I guess I was just stubborn, you know? My brothers had always told me that, yeah, I was smart and knew machines better than anyone else, but a female engineer just didn’t stand a chance. I wanted to prove them wrong, even if it meant putting up with creeps and assholes.”

“And then you got fired anyway for doing your job right.”

She smiled, eyes bright with pride. “And then I joined the Heart Pirates, where I’m respected and never groped, and the boss takes my opinions seriously. Most of the time, at least.”

Despite herself, Nami grinned as she raised her glass. “Sounds like we both got out of pretty bad situations and found captains worthy of our amazing talents and beauty.”

“That we did. Straw Hat’s a lucky man to have gotten you on his crew.”

“Damn straight.” Seeing an opportunity to gain some information, she asked innocently, “Speaking of lucky men, I hear you guys got to see Amazon Lily and live.”

A dark aura surrounded Ikkaku the moment the words left Nami’s mouth. “Yeah, the guys are lucky I didn’t kick all their asses!” she snarled, fist clenched in rage and murderous fire in her eyes.

Nami blanched. Penguin had said the crew had pissed her off, but this was a much more volatile response than she’d been expecting. “Yeesh, was it that bad?” she asked hesitantly. She was faintly reminded of her own reaction back when she’d been mocked for mentioning Skypeia but brushed it off. Surely, she hadn’t been nearly as bad, and that anger had been perfectly justified. After all, those drunken idiots had dared to laugh at her, all over an innocent question!

Caught up in her anger, the engineer ranted, “Those stupid bastards acted like they’d gone years without seeing a woman. Fucking heart-eyes and nosebleeds everywhere! Almost got themselves shot full of arrows for it, too! I don’t care that they don’t all want to bang me, but fucking hell, when I pointed out that they were acting stupid, they asked if I was jealous! I nearly walked right off the ship and joined Boa Hancock’s crew out of spite!”

Though it was probably smarter to change the subject, Nami found herself asking, “What stopped you?”

Ikkaku’s boiling fury simmered down into a scalding irritation. “Bepo. Literally the only male with sense during our stay. Well, I guess Jean Bart wasn’t so bad, either, but he didn’t really know any of us well enough to pick a side. Either way, Bepo managed to convince me to stick around, even though I still didn’t talk to the other idiots until a week after we left.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Nami’s lips as she noted the deliberate lack of mentioning the Heart Captain. “Ok, I’m curious, so I’ll let you off the hook for this; what did Law do to piss you off? Penguin said he made a stupid comment…”

Chin resting on her fist, she sighed petulantly. “I mean, I get he was stressed with Straw Hat’s surgery and trying to keep everyone alive, but the way he blew off my complaints about it reminded me too much of my old boss, you know? He even snapped at me and said if I didn’t like it, I could leave.”

“…Excuse me I need to go punch your jackass captain.”

A laugh bubbled up in Ikkaku’s throat as she caught Nami’s wrist, tugging her back onto her stool. “It’s fine! Like I said, he had a lot going on, so he was more sleep deprived and grumpier than usual. Straw Hat’s surgery took a lot out of him, and that on top of avoiding the Marines and keeping the boys from getting killed couldn’t have been easy. Once shit settled down and he realized how genuinely pissed I was, he apologized.”

Crossing her arms, Nami scowled. “You let him off with just an apology? I would have made Luffy grovel.”

“Oh, he knew I’d never let him get away with just a verbal admission of guilt, so said apology mainly consisted of a fancy new tool kit and a nice bonus to my paycheck; that’s basically groveling for him. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of why he put us together; figured I’d be more willing to keep putting up with his shitty attitude if I had some female companionship.”

A more cynical part of Nami’s brain wondered if that was why Law had been so eager to recruit her, but she brushed it off. He was opportunistic and probably reassured that her presence helped appease his best engineer, but he wouldn’t have taken the risk of trusting the nakama of a rival pirate for such a minor thing. “I’m surprised he wasn’t worried about you convincing me to run away with you.”

“Maybe that’s why he flirts with you so much—he knows I won’t leave if there’s decent entertainment.”

“And the subject of Law is officially back on hold again.”

Ikkaku sniggered. “Fair. But just you wait, oh blushing virgin. You can’t hide from my teasing forever.”

“I can try.”

They finished their cocktails, and before the empty glasses even touched the coasters, the bartender had already brought new ones.

“Impressive service,” Nami noted as Mandōreku darted away to attend to some other customers. She would have loved to watch him try to flirt with Ikkaku again; whether she shot him down or finally gave into his attentions, the redhead was sure it would be an amusing show. Unfortunately, it seemed that none of the men working the club had time to linger—the place was packed, so every man had their hands full, especially as the clientele got more wasted. There was a group of girls at one of the large glass tables that looked like they were having a great time ordering as many drinks as possible so they could watch the attractive waiters walk back and forth, and one black-haired beauty in particular appeared to be utterly smitten, leaning in closer every time one stopped by to drop off another Hypnotique.

“The place just opened, so they’re probably hoping to generate some good buzz,” Ikkaku replied, taking a sip of her drink. “Grimm’s full of flash-in-the-pan, pop-up bars and clubs. Everyone thinks they’ll be the ones to make it big, or it’s a front to some other illicit business, but sooner or later, the owner pisses off the wrong person and gets killed or run out.”

“Well that’s terrifying.”

“Eh, it’s an island full of brothels, black market brokers, back-alley doctors, and other scum. That’s why the crew enforces the buddy system. Which reminds me…” Reaching into her coat, she passed Nami her Clima-Tact and holster. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Gratefully, she took her weapon, strapping the holster around her waist. “Right. Thanks for worrying about me.”

“Hey, no one’s allowed to steal you away from the crew but me, you hear?”

Laughing carelessly, Nami nodded, taking a sip of her new drink. It was stronger than what she’d expect for a two-for-one special, but maybe Mandōreku added an extra shot in hopes of impressing the duo. Or getting them drunk. She wasn’t worried, though; she’d out-drunk entire taverns with stronger booze than this, and she expected Ikkaku was no slouch, either.

Taking a glance at a nearby clock, the dark-haired engineer’s grin widened. “Anyway, it’s now been five minutes, so Law’s a viable conversation piece again. I don’t see any hickeys—Boss managed to control himself this time?” Ikkaku teased.

Nami’s face flushed slightly at the memory of the incident. Her skin tingled as she remembered the delicious way his teeth had scraped against her vulnerable throat. “Law is so lucky I didn’t slap him for that,” she groused, shaking the feeling away.

“I mean, that was his payback for the sunburn prank, right? Fair’s fair.”

“Oh, shut up; your boss is a lecherous jerk and you know it.”

“And you like the attention he gives you and you know it. I don’t get why you two don’t just fuck and get it over with. You don’t have an evil Fishman holding your life hostage anymore, so what’s the holdup?”

Finger pressed to her bottom lip, Nami sarcastically pretended to think. “Hmmm, I wonder; because we have to work together, and a one-night stand could make the next nine-months-and-change awkward? Because, despite the odds, I’ve made it this far with my virginity still intact, so it seems a waste to throw it away for some meaningless fling? Because I want my first time to be special and with someone I fully trust and not just a guy looking to get into my pants? Because we could end up being enemies in the New World and I don’t want to have to explain to my nakama that I had sex with one of Luffy’s rivals?”

“Do you really think they’d care about that?”

She sighed, absently playing with Nojiko’s bracelet. “I don’t know. I mean, they’ve forgiven me for a lot worse. But Luffy and Law might someday fight it out for the One Piece—you can’t tell me you wouldn’t feel a little guilty if you’d slept with, let’s say Drake or Kid?”

“I’d feel guilty about sleeping with Drake, but only because Law’s staked his claim. And please tell me you wouldn’t actually think I’d be crazy enough to sleep with Eustass Kid?!” she asked, nose wrinkled in disdain.

“Ok, bad examples.” Nami wracked her brain for other Supernovas. “What about Basil Hawkins?”

“If I’d actually managed seduce the world’s most stoic magician, Law would be singing my praises. But I get your point.” Taking a sip of her drink, Ikkaku smirked. “Here’s a question; would you sleep with Hawkins? I mean, imagine it’s not your first time—which, I’ll admit, is a totally legit reason for not giving into Law. But if Basil Hawkins came up to you and said, ‘the cards predict we’ll sleep together’, would you?”

The question caught her off-guard, but despite herself, she considered it. “I mean, I’d never settle for such a shitty pick-up line, but if we just went by looks…” she trailed off, thinking. “He’s got nice hair and he’s not exactly ugly, but the deadpan expression’s kind of a turn-off. Hard to imagine him as a lover.”

“Agreed. He’s from the North Blue, too, so we ran into him a couple times before we set off for the Grand Line, and I don’t think I saw his expression change once.”

“I believe it.”

The Heart Pirate’s grin turned salacious. “So, does this mean we’re going to start rating the fuckability of each Supernova?”

“I mean, what’s Ladies’ Night without arbitrarily ranking men you barely know based on how willing you are to sleep with them, right?” Nami joked, glad they’d moved the conversation away from serious topics. This was supposed to be a fun evening, after all, and she was still feeling a bit raw from spilling so much of her past to Law earlier. And while she’d often indulged in late-night girl talk with Robin, it had rarely been about men; there simply hadn’t been anyone who’d caught her attention at the time, and she’d felt awkward asking the archeologist about her love life considering what a private person she was. Ikkaku was definitely more inclined to share all the dirty details, whether Nami asked for them or not. “You already said you’d never lower yourself to sleep with Kid, but what about his first mate?”

“Bold of you to assume I haven’t already tapped that.”

The redhead’s jaw dropped to the polished bar top. “You’re kidding!”

“Nope.”

“Spill.”

Grinning like she’d been wanting to tell the tale for ages, Ikkaku leaned forward eagerly. “Happened the third time our crews crossed paths. Usually, we try to stay out of each other’s ways so our captains don’t try to murder each other, but we were both after the same treasure. A freak storm came out of nowhere and Killer and I got separated from the group, and since I was injured, we opted to wait for help in a cave.”

“You were hurt?”

“Just a sprained ankle. Nothing serious, but I wasn’t in any condition to traipse through the jungle like that, and with all the dangerous animals about, I wasn’t going to let Killer carry me around and not have his hands free in case we were attacked.”

“Who made the first move?”

“Well, I ripped off his mask and kissed him, but he’d been coming onto me for hours by that point. I mean, a girl can only hold back so long when a hot guy like that’s rubbing her shoulders and offering to share body heat to keep warm.”

Now that was an obvious come-on if ever she heard one. “How was he?”

To Nami’s amazement, a red blush spread across Ikkaku’s cheeks. “Surprisingly gentle, though that might have been because he didn’t want to jostle my ankle. I usually like it rough, but damn, he was such a tease I didn’t mind. Definitely a considerate lover; he even made me breakfast the next morning.”

“Nice. A guy like that at least seems worth my time, if you’re willing to share,” she joked.

“I’m not opposed,” Ikkaku replied with a wink. “Moving on, I’m going to pre-emptively assume that Apoo and Urogue are in the ‘no’ category.”

“Apoo is horrifying on at least a dozen different levels, but I heard that Urouge’s hobby is ‘making love’, so he might have some redeeming qualities.”

Ikkaku nearly spit out her drink. “Where’d you hear that?!”

Chuckling, Nami recalled her own flabbergasted reaction when she’d been informed of that surprising tidbit. “Robin. If there’s anyone who studied up on the pirates of the Grand Line more than me, it’s her. And she always seems to know the weirdest, most obscure facts.”

“Noted. So, what about Roronoa and Straw Hat? They’re Supernovas, too.”

Nami choked on her cocktail, the burn of the alcohol settling uncomfortably in her lungs. “I wouldn’t sleep with Zoro any more than you’d sleep with Law!” Shaking her head in exasperation, she continued, “Sure, aesthetically he’s good-looking, but he’s dumb as a sack of hammers and has even worse directional sense.” Wiping away some of the blue liquid that escaped her lips, she added, “Besides, he’s like my brother, you know? He and I were Luffy’s first crewmembers; if something were going to happen between us, it would have already.”

“What about Straw Hat?”

Shifting awkwardly, the navigator admitted, “Luffy…look, Luffy’s a sweetheart. He’s fought pirates for me, climbed a mountain to get me to a doctor, saved my life at least a dozen different times…I can easily imagine a girl with far more patience than me falling in love with someone as goofy, determined, and loyal as him. But I can’t imagine him having sex.”

Tapping her lower lip thoughtfully, Ikkaku replied, “Yeah, I can see your point.”

“Dare I ask your opinion on the matter?”

“I’d do Zoro, but if he’s as dumb as you say, he’d probably have no clue what to do with an amazingly sexy woman like me. Probably isn’t all the interested in girls.”

“Seeing as he’s the only guy who didn’t spy on me in the baths, I’d say that’s a fair assessment.”

She sighed dramatically. “Such a tragic waste—a guy that good looking, but so utterly clueless. As for Straw Hat, I think you’re right. He’s sweet as pie, but not the kind of guy who’d push you up against a wall and ravish you. Unlike my captain—”

“Jewelry Bonney! Would you do her?!” Nami cut in, desperate to keep the subject off Law for just a little while longer.

Ikkaku laughed. “In a heartbeat! That chick’s wild, so I can imagine she’d be up for a good time. How about you?”

“You know, I think I’m on board with that, assuming she doesn’t stop halfway through to grab a snack.”

“Yeah, the only eating I’d want her to do is eating me out!” Ikkaku cackled before her mocha eyes took on a devious gleam. “I already gave you my answer, but I’m curious about yours—would you fuck Drake?”

“Didn’t you just say Law has dibs?”

“If it’s you—and he gets to watch—I think he’d be ok with it.”

Maybe it was the chance to indulge in real girl-talk without fear of their crewmates eavesdropping, but Nami felt almost giddy. Sure, talking about sex was still embarrassing, but Ikkaku gossiped about it so easily that it was hard not to get drawn in. Or maybe she was still a little aroused from her evening with Law, and she needed to let off some steam.

Taking a deep breath, Nami admitted, “I mean, before yesterday I’d say no—too stuffy and intimidating. But now…”

“He and Law got you all hot and bothered, huh?”

“I honest to god have never been so terrified and horny at the same time. Drake looked…feral.”

Blushing, Nami gave her the details of their encounter. How he’d helped her through her panic attack and been such a shy gentleman, at least until he’d decided to abduct her. How, when Law had been egging him on with his lecherous comments and groping, Drake had gone from hostile to interested, particularly when asked to help teach the wayward Cat Thief obedience. How, despite the bloodlust in the air and the bad reaction to the birth control, she’d found her panties had been completely soaked through after the encounter.

Honestly, she’d never expected to be turned on by a man like X Drake, but now she was sure he’d be the star in at least a few fantasies. After all, it had been pretty hot imagining him with Law. In her mind, the pair went together nicely; Law was cool and collected but eager to tease, while Drake seemed like the sort who’d start off shy, but morph into a hungry beast when pushed too far. Now, put an eager, orange-haired navigator in the middle…

When Nami was finished, Ikkaku blinked owlishly. “Wow. Ok, I know I’ve been trying to get you with Law, but if you really don’t want to date the Boss, I’d be happy to play wing-woman and set you up with Drake.”

Shaken out of her daydream, Nami gaped at her. “He tried to take me hostage!”

“Which could lead to some pretty intense sexytimes. I mean, handcuffs and dominance are a classic for a reason.”

“He’s at least a decade older than me!”

“On the Grand Line, age is just a number, and older men have their charms.”

“He could barely look at me when I took off the jumpsuit!”

“And yet you just admitted that, when Law basically put you on display, that shyness practically melted away.” Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Ikkaku leaned forward until she was barely an inch from her blushing friend. “Oh, come on; indulge me! You’re supposed to be a woman who can bring a man to his knees with a smile and empty his wallet with a wink. Are you saying you couldn’t seduce X Drake?”

Nami nibbled on her lip as her thighs clenched, warmth from the alcohol and fantasizing settling low in her belly. Oh, what was the harm, right? It was way safer to talk about Drake than Law; the chances of seeing him again were slim to none.

“Fine, I’ll play your game, but this,” she pointed between them erratically, “stays between us, got it?”

“You have my solemn oath as a Heart Pirate that if I so much as whisper any of your dirty fantasies to someone else, I’ll tattoo ‘traitor’ across my forehead in bright red letters.”

Pleased with Ikkaku’s sincerity, Nami leaned forward. “So, given how shy he is, I figure he’d need a little coaxing, right? But if the way he pretty much refused to look at me when I stripped down is anything to go by, I’d have to go slowly and start off dressed pretty conservatively.” A wicked thought entered her mind. “I’d dress up as a Marine or something—maybe something like Hina’s outfit. A nice, tailored suit that still hugs me in all the right ways.”

“Oooo, nice. Be sure to accessories with some sexy high-heeled boots.”

“Damn straight. Then, I’d pull every subtle trick I can think of—suck on a popsicle, ‘accidentally’ brush up against him, engage him in conversation just full of double-entendres, offer to help him ‘relax’ if he’s been having a stressful day—basically, drive him crazy wondering if I even realize how sexual I’m being.”

The shameless engineer sniggered. “Damn, girl, playing the innocent seductress card, huh?”

“Well, yeah. A shy guy like him needs to be pushed to the breaking point until he finally just snaps and pins me to the nearest flat surface.”

“You may be just as sadistic as Law.”

Red-faced but pleased with herself, Nami giggled. She was just glad Ikkaku didn’t ask her to elaborate any further—she was feeling surprisingly turned on. She made a mental note to grab a shower before bed; either a cold one, or a long, hot one where she could indulge in her fantasies a little longer. If that dildo her evil roommate had given her was water-proof, she might settle on the latter. “Hey, you asked. So, any other sexual conquests you wanna share? Who else has seen past the motor oil and canvas and been blessed by the goddess Ikkaku?”

“Honey, my sexual conquests would put those books of yours to shame. I once made a guy cum so hard he literally blacked out.”

Impressed though she was, Nami found herself momentarily distracted. It had to be a trick of the light, but Ikkaku’s eyes looked almost blue.

“You ok?” the woman in question asked.

Nami shook her head, positive she’d just been seeing things. “Yeah, fine. The blue light’s just getting to be a little much.”

At that moment, Mandōreku stopped by, studying their half-finished drinks. “You ladies want me to freshen these up?”

“Actually, can you get my friend a glass of water?” Ikkaku asked.

“Water? You sure?”

The Heart pirate frowned at his failure to immediately comply. “Yeah. Water. You know, the stuff people drink to keep from getting dehydrated? You do have that, right?”

“Well, yeah, but it’ll have to wait until I’m done making the cocktails for those girls over there,” he replied cagily, pointing to a pair of women currently making out like they could only breath air stolen from their partner’s lungs.

“I think they can wait,” Ikkaku said blandly, eyes narrowing when he ignored her and went to check on another customer who was practically laying across the bar, clearly having had too much to drink.

Turning to Nami, she gave her a gentle nudge. “Why don’t you hit the ladies’ room and splash some water on your face? You’re looking a little flushed, girl. I’ll make sure there’s a glass of water waiting for you when you get back.”

Part of her wanted to insist she was fine, but when she shifted, her thighs rubbed together and a shocking jolt of arousal shot up her spine. Maybe a quick trip to the bathroom wasn’t such a bad idea…

As she got to her feet, Nami stumbled, ankles wobbling slightly as she made her way to the bathroom. Something seemed…off. She was having a hard time focusing. It was almost like being drunk, but that couldn’t be the case.

“Be back in a few minutes,” she told Ikkaku, though her voice sounded husky and distant to her own ears.

Her friend nodded absently, her eyes having strayed back over to their bartender, who was busy preparing another round of martinis. “Uh huh.”

High-heeled feet clumsy and numb, Nami slowly made her way across the club. It was almost disorienting to step inside the bathroom, with its regular lighting and distinct lack of blue, but she could hardly bring herself to care. At the moment, she was half-tempted to slip into one of the stalls and pull off her dress for a while—she was feeling hot and bothered, and her clingy dress rubbing against her sensitized skin wasn’t helping matters. It was different from how she’d felt in the jumpsuit, though—her warmed flesh wasn’t desperate for cold air and freedom, but for more heat and rough touches and contact with another person’s smooth skin.

For a minute, she imagined Law cornering her in the bathroom, caging her against the wall and slowly peeling off her dress, hands and mouth caressing every inch of skin he exposed, staring up at her with those piercing gold eyes. She may have been fantasizing about Drake earlier, but she knew that when it came to her own satisfaction, the Surgeon of Death was the real man for the job. When she was this ready and willing, she didn’t have time to carefully seduce a shy former Marine—she needed a hot and sexy bastard like Law who knew a golden opportunity when it fell in his lap.

Clutching the sides of the lone sink, Nami steadied herself, even though her knees felt weak and wobbly. What the hell was going on? She couldn’t be drunk! Sure, she’d had two bottles of champagne and the Sour Sunrise at Ruby 8, plus multiple Hypnotiques, but she’d drunk entire taverns dry without so much as a hiccup! And even on the rare occasion she had been more than a little tipsy, she’d never been a horny drunk! But right now, all she wanted was to slip her nimble fingers between her slick thighs and play with herself, or better yet, hunt down a certain captain and ride him like a prized stallion.

Gods, what she wouldn’t give to be back at Ruby 8 with Law. They could close those velvet curtains to the booth, she’d climb on his lap, and he could lick champagne off her cleavage while she ground her throbbing clit against his hard cock…

To her right, there was a groan and one of the women from the large group stumbled out a stall, collapsed to the floor and curled up into a fetal position, hand buried under her skirt as she twitched and spasmed. Nami stared at her, mind sluggishly processing that she didn’t seem to be in pain—her face was flushed and she was panting, but her blue eyes were rolled back in extasy.

The woman wasn’t hurt—she was in the midst of an intense orgasm.

Ikkaku’s advice popped into her head, and tearing her eyes away from the cumming burnette, Nami turned on the tap. Cold water was quickly splashed on her face, the shock allowing her to focus just a little bit more on her surroundings. Her head felt like it was stuffed with lead cotton, but despite the fuzzy weight she forced herself to look in the mirror, gasping in shock as she caught sight of her eyes.

Brown irises had been overtaken by an unnatural, bright blue.

The same blue as Hypnotique.

The sight cleared the rest of the drunken haze from her mind, and cold dread replaced the heat that had settled in her belly. She turned to the orgasming girl, and though the irises were barely visible, Nami could see they also had the same vibrant blue tint.

A horrible thought bubbled up, and she staggered back to the bar as quickly as she could, only to find that, throughout the club, more women were beginning to collapse to the floor with shuddering moans. Only Ikkaku seemed to be upright, though that was at least partially because she was currently being pinned to the edge of the bar by Mandōreku, the bartender’s large hands holding back her balled fists. There was a smoking gun on the floor, probably the tough engineer’s, but it appeared the only thing she’d managed to hit were the glass bottles.

Nami didn’t have time to think—she grabbed a half-empty martini glass and flung it at the bartender’s unsuspecting back, mentally cheering when it shattered between the shoulder blades, startling him enough that his hold on Ikkaku loosened enough for her to kick him in the stomach.

“You cowardly son of a bitch!” Ikkaku snarled, reaching behind the bar to grab the neck of one of the Vodka bottles, just barely missing Mandōreku when she tried to slam it into his face. “The fuck did you put in our drinks?”

“A lovely little drug called ‘uranos’, Miss Heart Pirate,” came a sneering voice from the door.

Nami spun on her heel, fear freezing her veins as Jinzo strolled through the door flanked by his massive bodyguards. Two of them blocked the entrance, rifles in hand and determined glares on their faces.

Taking advantage of the distraction the black market broker’s arrival granted him, Mandōreku grabbed Ikkaku’s arm and twisted it painfully around her back, wrapping his other beefy arm around her throat, panting as she struggled helplessly, “Good timing, Mr. Jinzo. As you can see, your investment is already paying off.”

Jinzo gave a pleased, yellow-toothed smile that sent a shiver down Nami’s spine as his gaze landed on the orange-haired pirate. “I must say, outrageous as your prices are, I can’t argue with your results. Seems your special drink was a real hit. And you even caught me the wretched Cat Thief.”

“Happy to be of service,” the bartender replied, nodding to the rest of the waiters. Immediately, the set aside their trays of drinks and began gathering up the barely conscious customers, carelessly tossing them onto the couches or into a heap by the bar. “Think this’ll be enough girls for your new brothel?”

“For now, but I’m sure I’ll call on you for a new batch once these expire.”

“What the fuck did you do to us?” Nami asked, grabbing a table to steady herself, the adrenaline and danger of the situation barely holding back the unwilling wave of arousal that tried to wash over her. She chanced a glance at Ikkaku, whose face was flushed with pain and pleasure even as she weakly tried to wiggle out of her captor’s arms.

Jinzo seemed amused at Nami’s determination to keep her head clear despite suffering from the effects of whatever she’d been dosed with. “Oh, just a special concoction that induces inebriation and doubles as a rather powerful aphrodisiac. You see, I’m opening up a new brothel, but renovations and paying off stupid pirates mean I’m short on the necessary funds to pay employees. So, I contracted Mandōreku here to open up this little club for a special Ladies’ Night to ‘recruit’ my first batch of whores.”

“You have the money to pay for a fake club, but not to hire legit employees?” Nami groaned, forcing herself to stay focused and not give in to the pleasant haze that was trying to creep back into her mind. Staring at the sleazy man’s terrible teeth helped—they were gross and crooked, just like his business practices.

“For what I spent on this whole façade, I’ll recoup the costs in no time. You see, once a woman succumbs to its effects, she’s completely addicted to physical pleasure. So I can cut back on unnecessary things like employee salaries because they’ll have no interest in money—just a single-minded drive for getting fucked.”

“Captain…won’t let…away with this,” Ikkaku panted, weakly clawing at her captor’s arm.

Jinzo scoffed. “Please, as if someone like Trafalgar Law gives a shit about either of you. By the time he realizes you’re gone, you’ll both be nothing but sex-addicted, mindless whores. Maybe I’ll let him buy one of you back, though I doubt you’ll be good for anything but pleasuring the crew.”

“Don’t forget our deal, Jinzo,” Mandōreku cut in. “I get to keep one chick for myself, and I’m choosing this one,” he stated, twisting Ikkaku’s arm a little tighter. “Feisty bitches like her tend to last longer, after all.”

“Yes, yes, she’s all yours. And since I’ve got the chance to make the famous Cat Thief my star attraction, well, I guess Trafalgar won’t be getting either of you back after all,” the thin man snickered, eyes locking onto Nami. “You cost me a lot of money yesterday, bitch, so it’s a good thing men will be lining up around the block for the chance say they nailed Cat Thief Nami.”

Unfortunately for the black market mogul, Ikkaku and Nami weren’t going to let that happen. The navigator quickly drew her Clima-Tact, blasting a heavy gust of wind at Jinzo and the two armed guards by the door. Meanwhile, Ikkaku bashed her head back against Mandōreku’s face; there was a sickening crack as his nose crumpled against the Heart Pirate’s skull. With her captor’s grip sufficiently loosened, she pulled away enough to slam her heel into his groin, forcing him to fully release her. Leaping forward, she grabbed her discarded gun from the floor, shooting the two thugs right between the eyes before they could recover from Nami’s attack.

“Nami, run!” she shouted, spinning around to slam the heavy hilt of the empty pistol into Mandōreku’s sternum, putting him down for the count.

“Not without you!” the thief shot back, using more wind to launch a few of the glass tables at the waiters to keep them from stepping in. The drug made her legs feel cumbersome and unsteady, taking away some of her natural agility and making real combat difficult, but her determination to not be made a sex slave at least kept her head clear.

“I’m right behind you,” Ikkaku assured, though it was undercut by the way she stumbled as a stray thug took a swing at her. Most of the men in the club weren’t armed, having not expected much of a fight from a bunch of incapacitated women, but this one had been smarter than most, grabbing a shard of glass to use as an improvised knife. He managed to get in a lucky hit and slash Ikkaku across her ribs, the deep cut immediately pouring blood down her silver dress.

“Damn it, don’t damage the merchandise,” Jinzo shouted. Nami dimly realized that was why the guards weren’t shooting at them, and why the waiters were so lightly armed—they wanted the girls alive and with minimal injuries to clean up. Wounded whores probably wouldn’t go for much, and if Jinzo was being so stingy with money, he wouldn’t want to waste his cash on medical expenses.

Using her opponent’s momentum against him, Ikkaku managed to knock the heavy thug head-first into the marble bar, putting him down for the count. “Nami, get out and find Law!”

Nami refused to leave her friend, though. Turning quickly, the navigator blasted Jinzo and his goons with another gust of wind, a storm of bottles, broken tables, and martini glasses shattering in their faces. Taking advantage of the distraction, the pair of women dashed out the door, with Ikkaku pausing just long enough to grab the two dead guards’ rifles.

Unfortunately, that burst of energy didn’t last long, especially for the injured Heart Pirate, and they were forced to duck into a dark side-alley only a block away. “Nami…” she panted, crumpling to the ground, “find Law.”

“I said—”

“Find him and bring him back,” she wheezed. “It’s not a deep cut, but aphrodisiacs stimulate blood flow, so if I keep running, I risk bleeding out.”

“Fuck,” Nami whimpered.

Forcing herself up into a kneeling position, Ikkaku rested the muzzle of one of the stolen rifles on a trashcan. “I’ll hide here; pick off any sons of bitches that try to follow you. But you need to get Law now.”

“But the drug—”

“The longer we stand around talking, the more blood I lose and the less clear your head’s going to be. Now go!”

Though she hated to leave her friend to potentially fend off a bunch of vicious thugs by herself, Nami knew she was right—they needed Law, since he could remove the drug from their systems, fix Ikkaku up, and slice Jinzo and his men to bits. Casting her Mirage Tempo to render herself invisible, the navigator sprinted through the winding alleys back towards Ruby 8, silently praying Law was still there. How long had it even been since she’d left? An hour? Two?

A helpless whimper bubbled up in her throat as Nami darted down another foggy street. Could she not go one day on Grimm without some drug fucking with her system?! What was worse was that the longer she ran, the harder it became to think. The aphrodisiac’s effects were becoming more pronounced, from the way heat pooled in her lower belly as her thighs rubbed together to the delicious way the soft material of her dress slid over her sensitive skin.

The cool air wasn’t quite as effective at clearing her head this time—if anything, it just made her nipples pebble harder, and the slight breeze against her exposed flesh reminded her far too much of the way Law would let his breath tickle her neck and ears.

She needed to find him. Law could rescue Ikkaku. Could remove the drug from her system. Could cure the ache inside her with those wicked lips and dexterous hands—

Collapsing against a brick wall, she slapped herself in hopes of knocking that thought from her head. She couldn’t let the drug distract her from her mission! She needed to get to Ruby 8 and find Law so he…

Whatever plan she’d been formulating vanished from her head the second she heard a deep, smooth voice in the distance. “It should be a couple blocks away. Haiko-ya says Jinzo’s new brothel is slated to open in a few days—let’s see if we can get a sneak peek and draw him out for a chat.”

“We aiming to kill, Captain?” Jean Bart’s voice asked.

“No. Capture him unharmed if possible. I’d hate for Drake-ya to think I have no faith in his torture abilities.”

Despite the cruel words, Nami nearly cried in relief as Law strolled around the corner, the other Heart Pirates in tow. Focus solely on the dangerous captain, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his chest and pressing her trembling figure flush against him.

Law stumbled back a few steps, clearly unprepared for an assault from the invisible woman, and Nami felt his muscles tense as he activated his Room. “What the fuck—”

God, even though he was pissed and ready to attack her, his voice was like molten honey. “Law,” she murmured breathily, clinging to his blazer and breathing in his spicy cologne. The masculine scent made her mouth water.

“Nami-ya?” he asked, awkwardly patting where he presumed her head was. “What are you doing wandering around Grimm’s back alleys alone for? Again?” he growled.

The way his chest rumbled with every word enticed her to slip her hands inside the jacket to run her palms across the taut muscles. “I was looking for you,” she cooed breathily, mind fogged with lust. He sounded so mad. Was he going to punish her? Spank her for being a bad girl and disobeying his orders?

“Why are you invisible?”

“And where’s Ikkaku?” Penguin chimed in, brow furrowing beneath his hat in concern.

Why was she invisible? Law needed to see her to touch her, right? He’d want to see her hot and aching for him; see that she needed him so badly. Absently, she dropped the Mirage Tempo before shifting her focus to undoing the buttons of Law’s shirt. She wanted to see those tattoos up close, to trace them with her tongue—

Firm hands grabbed her wrists, yanking them away from her prize. “Nami-ya, what the fuck are you doing?” Law snapped. “Are you drunk? Where’s Ikkaku?”

Why was he asking about another woman? Did he secretly have a thing for Ikkaku?

…wait, she was planning on telling him about Ikkaku, though. Something about her being with someone…

“Ikkaku’s waiting for…a man,” she moaned, eyelids lowered as she pushed herself onto her tiptoes to brush a kiss across the exposed skin of his throat. Her mind was fuzzy, the anxiousness she’d been feeling hard to hold onto when the man she wanted was right there.

“We need more information than ‘a man’, Nami,” Penguin groused, subtly shifting closer, ready to pull her off his captain if needed. All the Heart Pirates knew Law could handle himself against one slight woman, especially since her intent was clearly more amorous than murderous, but they also knew her behavior was far from normal.

Law, for his part, softly groaned as Nami teasingly swiped her tongue across the dip of his exposed collarbone. “Nami-ya, your timing for this really couldn’t be worse.”

“Don’t you want me, Law-kun?” she mewled, pressing her soft breasts to his chest as she rolled her hips against his hardening cock. Really, he’d been teasing her for nearly three months! If it had all been some kind of joke and he left her wanting now, she was sure she’d go mad!

“Obviously, but right now—” Law cut himself off as he finally got a good look at her eyes. Releasing one of her wrists to grab her chin, he peered down into the electric blue orbs. “Fuck. She’s taken uranos.”

Shachi’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses. “Shit, Boss, you’ve gotta get it out of her!”

“Wait, did Ikkaku take it, too?” Penguin asked, grabbing Nami’s shoulder. “Nami, did she—”

Moaning, Nami leaned into the touch. His hand wasn’t as satisfyingly rough as Law’s, but it still felt so good to be touched…

Her euphoria was broken as she was unceremoniously jerked away, both of her wrists captured by one of Law’s large hands and yanked above her head. He took special care to hold her away from his body, basically dangling in front of him, leaving her nothing to rub herself against for stimulus. Needy and impatient, she jerked and writhed in his clutches, legs flailing to try and hook around his hips, but he clumsily dodged, determined to keep the thief at arm’s length.

“Nami-ya, I’m not letting you go until you tell me where my engineer is.”

“Please~” she whimpered, thrashing about, desperately trying to get any kind of stimulation. Her panties were soaked through and her breasts demanded to be touched. She imagined the hand restraining her was replaced with handcuffs—that way, he’d still have her exposed and helpless, but he’d be free to run his hot palms down her sides, caressing and squeezing her luscious curves as he got down on his knees and showed her what that wicked mouth of his could do to her dripping cunt.

“Law, we don’t have time to play around! You know that stuff’s addictive! If Ikkaku—”

A harsh glare from the captain cut off Penguin’s complaints. “I know, idiot. We’ll find her.” Turning back to the captive thief, he studied her intently, though there was an anxious edge to his normally confident tone. “Nami-ya, I know you’re stronger than this. If Ikkaku’s in trouble, I need you to tell me.”

“She’s…” she trailed off, having the hardest time concentrating on anything other than the way his gold eyes shone in the dim light of the alley.

“Focus, Nami-ya. She wouldn’t have let you wander around alone. Is Ikkaku in danger?”

Though the salacious fog encasing her brain was thick, Law’s words and the sudden memory of her friend bleeding but ready to snipe down the men who’d attacked them managed to poke the smallest holes through, allowing her enough clarity to groan, “Drugged…Jinzo.”

“I’m going to make that bastard suffer,” Law growled. “Where are they?”

But the self-control the navigator had regained was washed away by a hot wave of lust. God, Law sounded so fucking hot when he was mad. So powerful and dangerous. She wanted him to throw her down and growl like that in her ear while he took her roughly, make her beg and scream while he pinned her to the wall, telling her all the dirty things he planned to do with her.

“Tell me where she is, damn it!” he snapped, shaking her slightly.

Her only response was to bite her lip and moan shamelessly as she arched her back, thrusting out her chest in hopes of enticing him to lean in and wrap his lips around one of the straining peaks.

Realizing his orders weren’t getting him anywhere, Law changed tactics. Carefully, he pulled her in but left just enough space between their bodies so she still couldn’t get the contact she was obviously desperate for. “Nami-ya,” he purred in her ear, hot lips tauntingly brushing against the sensitive cartilage, “tell me where Ikkaku is and I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

That was an offer her aching body couldn’t refuse. “Venus…cl-club…three blocks west…please…”

“Thank you, Nami-ya,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist as he finally released her wrists. Eagerly, Nami buried her fingers in his thick hair and yanked him down for an intense, desperate kiss, moaning in relief as his lips slanted across hers. The pleasure was short-lived, however, as a sharp jolt to the back of her neck made her body go limp and black creep into her vision.

As unconsciousness overwhelmed her, she felt Law’s lips part from hers just enough to whisper, “Sorry about this, Nami-ya, but it’s for your own good…”

[ranwing]

KADAM FIC: LEARNING TO FLY (10/?)

Title: Learning to Fly Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Carmen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Elliot “Starchild” Gilbert, Dani, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters Rating: PG13 (rating may change) Genre(s): canon divergence. Parts: 10/? Summary: As another school year starts at NYADA, Kurt seemed to have it all. The respect of his teachers, a group of wonderful friends and best of all, getting to live with the man that he’d come to love. So of course the universe would throw a few curve balls in his direction.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

On AO3

Back when he was still in school, Adam’s teachers had lectured him about the rigors of a touring company and he’d been amply warned about the sense of isolation that could come with being on the road. With a faculty made up of professional actors, singers and dancers, they had the experience to justify this warning. And he was finding, much to his frustration, just how correct they were. Sleeping in hotel rooms, living out of a suitcase and eating way too much fast food made it difficult to maintain the routines that kept him healthy and centered and feeling well. All the little rituals that he had developed over the years, like baking when he felt stressed or sitting by the window with a cup of tea to relax, were no longer options and already the pressures were starting to wear on him.

Maybe he’d been naive, but he hadn’t expected it to be so difficult at this stage. He’d never been a fussy sleeper and didn’t consider himself to be high maintenance. But he missed having his own space and waking up next to the man he loved. He missed the two of them cooking in his tiny kitchen or sitting in the living room working on his writing while Kurt was studying. It seemed like he just didn’t have any time to decompress and since he only really had his castmates to socialize with, never really could escape the show. As much as he personally liked his friends in the cast, he still felt very much adrift at times.

Maintaining a proper sleep schedule when one was in unfamiliar surroundings or sitting in a bus traveling to their next destination wasn’t easy and Adam wasn’t terribly surprised that he was still wide awake after midnight. Niall was seated in the pair of seats across from him, stretched out as much as physically possible and snoring away, his eyes covered with a pink sleep mask that obviously was stolen from his wife. Most of the others were either sleeping or at least resting as best they were able.

Well, if he couldn’t sleep, he might as well get something constructive done. There were a number of emails he hadn’t answered yet. A note from his sister, finally having resolved the horse welfare seizure in the courts after months of hard work. A reminder from his parents that they were finally taking their overdue holiday to Spain if he needed to reach them. A reminder from Mr. Tillman about the upcoming auditions for the Shakespeare company summer season.

Adam sighed tiredly. He wanted very much to call Kurt, just to hear his voice. That alone would ease the knot of loneliness that seemed to permanently settle in his chest. But it was so late, and he didn’t want to disturb Kurt’s rest. He knew that Kurt would not be upset at all upset being awakened if he saw that Adam really needed to speak with him, but he had so much to deal with that Adam didn’t want to be yet another burden for Kurt to have to carry.

Even though he got along well with the rest of the cast, especially Niall, he was often reminded of how alone he was and far from the people that he wanted to be with. His parents and sister were across the pond and Kurt was in New York while he was sitting on a bus traveling from Boston to Richmond. They’d left Boston directly after their final performance so that they’d arrive in Virginia early in the morning. The plan was to give them two days to rest while the crew got the sets, props and lighting set up before a set of rehearsals to get accustomed to the new theater began. Previews for the local media would be staged just five days after their arrival with the official opening night scheduled two days later, leaving very little real down time. This was going to be their pattern for the duration of the tour.

He thought that he’d be better prepared but apparently one truly had to experience this kind of challenge to understand it. There would be good days and not such good ones. There would be days when he missed Kurt so much that the ache would be felt physically and other days when the both of them were so busy that they barely even had the time to focus on their separation.

If there was one good thing about not being able to sleep on the bus was that he could take advantage of the WIFI. He really should be working on his play since he has promised the rewrites would be done by the time the tour concluded but he just didn’t have the mental energy to focus on it. Instead he found himself cuing up the YouTube channel for Elliot’s cabaret group to watch the Valentine’s Day performance.

While he enjoyed most of the acts, especially Rachel and Santana who were so perfectly matched together, it was Kurt that he wanted to see. And his lover didn’t disappoint. Besides looking so breathtakingly gorgeous, he performed with elegance and passion, creating a character that was so different from himself yet still managed to portray Kurt’s own nature so beautifully.

He wished that he could have been there, but after watching Kurt’s set for the third time he had to wonder if his lover would have given such a performance if he had. Despite the clear sense of abandon, there was something about Kurt’s performance that was so refined and mature that expressed clear expediential growth since Adam left New York. Maybe their time apart was to Kurt’s benefit, he considered. Had he been coddling Kurt too much and preventing him from maturing in the way that he deserved to be?

He sighed to himself, watching as Kurt spun about a stripper pole on his screen looking like some otherworldly tempter. He’d never wanted to be the one to hold Kurt back, nor did he want to be pushing Kurt to do things that he didn’t want to. Kurt deserved the chance to develop on his own and seemed to be having a marvelous time doing so. Maybe being away from him was best for Kurt at this point, giving him room to find who he was both as a performer and a person without his well-meaning interference.

He couldn’t help from remembering something his Aunt Magda had told him once when he was visiting her country cottage as a child for an early spring weekend. A champion hobby gardener, she took advantage of her young nephew’s free labor and he’d wondered why she was taking young plants out of her hothouse when it was still so chilly out.

“It hardens them, pet,” she explained patiently, smiling as she handed him pots of seedlings to place down by the path. “Going into the cold makes them stronger so they’ll be able to survive if the weather turns.”

Adam looked at the plants in his hands, feeling a bit sorry for the poor things. He didn’t want to be outside when it was this cool and he couldn’t imagine how such young plants wouldn’t freeze.

Aunt Magda laughed warmly. “They’re not going to be out all the time,” she assured him, ruffling his hair playfully. “Not until it gets warmer. We’ll put them back in the hothouse before supper and they’ll spend the night all toasty warm. Then tomorrow we’ll put them outside again until they’re used to it.

“Now, when we’re done here we’ll go back inside so you can wash up. I’ve got some fresh biscuits for your tea.”

Adam smiled to himself at the memory, remembering how relieved he’d been that the poor baby plants weren’t going to be left to freeze but the lesson his dear aunt taught him seemed to fit his situation now. Both he and Kurt were those young plants, just starting to emerge from the safety of their school hothouse. Adam was a bit further along and could be expected to survive in the cold world, but Kurt was still a tender seedling. He needed the opportunity to strengthen. To harden as his aunt had phrased it before he could find his place in the world.

Being on his own would likely do Kurt far more good than harm, Adam considered as he watched Kurt dancing for a clearly appreciative audience. He would get the chance that Adam did, to explore and grow and discover himself as a performer. And without Adam there tempted to guide him or protect him from struggle or failure, Kurt would harden. He would strengthen and grow and be prepared to face the world outside of NYADA.

This was important for the both of them, Adam considered. They could both come out of the experience stronger both as individuals and as a couple. They just needed to endure the next few short months. Then he would be returning home and see just what sort of remarkable flower Kurt had blossomed into.

* * *

Kurt grunted as he was driven backwards, sweat streaming down his face beneath the protection of the fencing mask. Mr. Hansen was taking no mercy as he put on display every flaw in Kurt’s technique. He would have some pretty spectacular bruises by the time they were done from being struck by the heavy wooden sword, but he knew better than to complain about the rough treatment. As far as Mr. Hansen was concerned, getting hit would be his fault for not blocking the blows.

At least the fencing mask would protect him from a potential black eye.

Mr. Hansen finally called a stop when he’d driven Kurt back to the edge of the practice area, giving him a chance to recover. He pulled off his own mask, offering his student a reassuring smile. “That was much better, Kurt,” he assured his student. “You managed to block me most of the time.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Kurt complained ruefully, rubbing a sore spot on his shoulder that he knew was a blooming bruise.

“Trust me, you did,” Mr. Hansen assured him. “I wasn’t holding back that much and you were able to anticipate what I might be doing. If you’re able to do that in a free flow fight, you’re going to have no trouble following some pretty complicated fight choreography.”

He looked to the rest of the class, all of which looked like they’d been put through the wringer while their teacher looked fresh as a slightly sweaty daisy. Mr. Hansen might be pushing forty but his endurance was to be respected with the way he ran his students around the room.

“I think that you’re all about ready to finally get your hands on some live steel,” he proposed, placing the wooden swords in their storage stand. He reached for two swords and swung them so that the light reflected off their lengths. He handed the first, a broadsword, to one of the other boys and the second, a katana-styled sword, to Kurt. “They don’t have edges, but you still need to be careful.

“Now you’ll notice that the feel is completely different from wood,” Mr. Hansen advised as his students gave the swords tentative swings. “These actually have some serious weight that will affect how you need to handle them. Even without an edge, you can seriously hurt someone if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Kurt frowned as he hefted the blade with both hands and tried to give it a controlled swing. Unlike the wooden practice sword which was designed to allow for slashing or thrusting motions, this sword felt like it was primarily for swinging blows. He needed both arms to control the movement.

“In our next class, we’ll be working with several different styles of blades and you’ll learn to control them all before we move on to actual combat. Remember our primary rule…”

“Safety first, safety last, safety always!” the entire class recited dutifully.

The teacher chuckled as he retrieved the weapons. “Hit the showers people,” he ordered. “I’ll see you next week.”

Kurt handed him back the sword before heading over to where he left his athletic bag, musing that the next few sessions would likely be very interesting. He was looking forward to working with actual stage weapons. His growing proficiency at stage combat would certainly help his prospects when he auditioned for the Shakespeare festival. Wiping his face and grabbing a sip of water, he sat down on a bench to rest for a moment. Grateful that this was his last class for the day, he had time to cool down, shower and grab an early dinner before he was due at rehearsal.

“Hey Kurt?”

He looked up to see Dale standing over him. The other student had been a casual sparring partner since they’d started in stage combat and had playfully flirted with him from time to time but had kept things light and respectful. In all honestly, Kurt was just shallow enough to get a bit of a kick out of a good-looking guy finding him attractive and asking him to make muscles. The past few weeks he’d been a bit more forward in his compliments, though not enough to bother Kurt. Yet.

“You were pretty amazing holding your own with Mr. Hansen,” Dale complimented. “He totally kicked my ass last time.”

Kurt nodded in acknowledgment of his compliment. “Thanks. I felt like mine was getting kicked around a bit today.”

“No, you were doing okay.” The dark-haired man sat down next to him, a trifle close for Kurt’s comfort. “I was wondering if you’re free before rehearsals tonight,” he said enquiringly. “There’s this new Thai place that opened down on Fifth. I thought maybe we could check it out.”

Kurt mentally sighed, recognizing that the invitation was for a lot more than a casual dinner between friends and wishing that Dale hadn’t gone there. Not that Dale wasn’t good looking, with his thick dark hair and wide grin, but he just wasn’t interested. Dale had flirted with him many times before in class, but this felt different from his usual teasing. Kurt generally liked the other man and wanted to maintain a pleasant working relationship with his classmates, so he needed to make a few things clear.

“No, but thanks for the offer,” he said carefully, offering a friendly smile. “I’m going to relax a little bit before rehearsal. It’s been a long day.”

“Oh, come on Kurt,” Dale urged, smiling enticingly. “You have to eat. This will give us a chance to hang out a little bit. Get to know each other a little more outside of class.”

Kurt sighed, knowing that he would have to be a bit blunter. “Look, I appreciate the invite but I think that I’m just going to grab something in the cafeteria and take advantage of my break to give Adam a call.”

Dale cocked his head. “So… you two are still together? Even with him away?” he asked, a bit too smoothly to be believed.

Kurt felt his gaze narrow in annoyance. It wasn’t exactly a secret and he wasn’t aware of any rumors floating around about their relationship being in trouble. His friends would have alerted him. “Yes, we are,” he confirmed. “Quite happily so.”

“And he’d be upset if you just went out to dinner with a friend?” Dale demanded, a bit of challenge in his voice. “You don’t strike me as the type to be bossed around by a boyfriend when he’s not around. I always thought you were your own man.”

After having dealt with Blaine for so long, Kurt could easily recognize when someone was trying to manipulate him, and he was not going to fall for it. It felt a bit too much like Sebastian’s old “I don’t mind if you don’t mind” game that he’d tried while he and Blaine were still a couple. Blaine might have been tempted when deprived of his boyfriend’s attention for more than five minutes, but Kurt wasn’t that needy.

“No, he doesn’t mind at all because he trusts me. Like I trust him. I just get the feeling that friendship isn’t exactly what you’re after so let me make it clear that I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on Kurt. I’m not looking for anything serious,” Dale purred, inching closer into Kurt’s personal space. “Your man is away and I’m sure that you’ve got to be lonely. This would just be two friends scratching an itch together.”

“No thanks,” Kurt said firmly. “I am more than capable of scratching my own itch.”

Dale just shrugged, apparently not offended at Kurt’s refusal. “Okay, I get it,” he acquiesced. “I didn’t mean to push too hard. It’s just… you are really hot so you can’t blame me for trying.”

Kurt sighed, knowing that he would have to let this go. He and Dale would be working together a lot and it didn’t pay to make an enemy over a bit of aggressive flirting. He would just chalk it up to a misunderstanding and leave it at that.

“It’s okay,” he finally said. If he could forgive Mercedes for smashing his car window, he could get past Dale’s pushy behavior. He probably should just be complimented that he had that effect on some people.

“Cool,” Dale exclaimed agreeably, switching from assertive suitor to pleasant acquaintance now that Kurt had reaffirmed his boundaries. “Don’t want to lose my favorite sparring partner after all.”

Kurt nodded, getting up and slipping into his NYADA warmup jacket and tugging a dark blue beanie onto his head that felt like a security blanket. “Well, I’m going to head out. I’ll see you at rehearsals tonight.”

“You got it,” Dale said agreeably, moving to retrieve his own belongings before heading to the showers. “Catch you later…”

Kurt couldn’t help from breathing a sigh of relief that he was able to resolve this little matter neatly. He didn’t want to make enemies over something like this and it was fortunate that Dale was smart enough to accept Kurt’s refusal without getting offended.  And in all truth, it was flattering to have someone wanting him like that. Best to just take it as a compliment.

Returning to his room, he stripped down to his briefs and tossed his dirty clothes into his hamper, making a mental note that he needed to do laundry over the weekend or risk his room smelling like Finn’s used to. The beanie was placed in a place of honor on Kurt’s dresser where he could enjoy having something of Adam’s in plain sight. Kurt grabbed his robe off its hook on the back of the door and slipped it on, finding comfort in the warm fabric and pushed his feet into the flip flops that he always wore to the showers. He’d wash up, get something to eat and would be ready in plenty of time for rehearsals.

But first… He got out his phone and checked his messages, seeing that Adam had texted him a few times while he was in class.

Arrived in Richmond, safe and sound, his boyfriend assured him. Am at the hotel and plan to fall flat on my face for a few hours.

Kurt smiled, seeing that the note was a few hours old. Hopefully Adam had gotten plenty of rest because he could imagine just how draining the long drive was. Going to his map, he exchanged pins to mark Adam’s new location and to indicate that the run in Boston was concluded. Still a long way to go, but now he had evidence that their separation was indeed finite and would at some point come to an end.

Hoping that Adam was rested and awake, he checked the second message and saw that Adam would be going out to dinner and would try to check in after Kurt got back from rehearsals.

“Oh…” Kurt bit back a sigh of disappointment, knowing that he had no right to be upset. He and Adam often found that they rarely were able to plan times when they could talk to one another and were dependent on chance when both might be free. Usually it in the afternoons after Kurt’s last class and before rehearsals when he was able to catch Adam before was due to be at the theater or late in the night after Adam’s performance. That wasn’t Adam’s doing and his boyfriend would not have known that Kurt had a few hours to himself before making his plans.

He dialed Adam’s phone number and wasn’t surprised when it went directly to voice mail.

“Hi babe,” he greeted with as much cheer as he could manage. “Hope that you’re out having a good time. When you get back, give me a call. I’ll be up late. Love you.”

His eyes stung a bit as he hung up, feeling rather alone and depressed but quickly shook himself out of it. Resolutely picking up his bath supplies, he headed down to the showers to clean up. He needed to keep his mind on what he needed to do that evening, and not crying over his absent partner. He was going to get through this.

* * *

“This is so nice of you, but you really didn’t need to go so out of your way,” Adam insisted as they drove to the restaurant where their diner reservations were made.

Carole turned to the young man seated in the back seat of their car with a wide smile. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart,” she insisted. “There was no way that we were going to miss seeing you now that you’re close by.”

“Well, close being a relative term,” Burt teased, not taking his eyes off the road as he drove. “It’s not a bad drive and it gives us an excuse to get out of Washington for a little bit.”

“One of Burt’s staffers recommended this restaurant and we thought it would be a nice break for you,” Carole proposed. “I’m always worried that you boys aren’t eating right.”

“Prepare to be mothered,” Burt warned, laughing. “She’s been itching to take care of someone since Finn moved out and it’ll be nice for her to have someone to focus on besides me.”

Adam couldn’t help from smiling, his heart clenching when he realized that he felt the same kind of need. He missed his family and he only got to see them a few times a year at best. And he missed Kurt. Seeing the elder Hummels made him feel a bit less disconnected to those that he loved, and he was grateful that Kurt’s family had embraced him the way that they did.

“We’ve really been looking forward to seeing your show,” Carole informed him. “Especially after reading the reviews from Boston. We were so happy to see that the play was well received.”

“We all were relieved,” Adam admitted. “I mean, we thought that it’s a great play and everyone’s put in so much work, but it was still a relief that the critics saw that. I really hope that you like it. I’ve made sure that you’ve got the best seats in the house.”

Burt grunted in approval. “It sounds like a great show,” he assured Adam. “And maybe a little media attention about having a Congressman attending on opening night might goose attendance just a bit.”

Adam pursed his mouth thoughtfully. “I doubt the producers would mind that at all.”

The restaurant where their dinner reservations was casual enough to be comfortable, but the young chef there had a reputation for putting a modern and healthy spin on traditional southern recipes.  It was early enough that there wasn’t a long wait for their table where their smiling waitress took their drink orders and left a basket of warm cornbread with honey butter for them to enjoy. Carole passed the basket around the table, taking the small pleasure that only a mother would understand about seeing the men in her life eating well.

“You’ll have to guide me,” Adam requested politely as he looked over the menu. “I’m not familiar with a lot of dishes like this.”

“I’m sure it’s all good,” Burt claimed, swallowing a bit of cornbread.

Deciding to be adventurous and not to go with the safe and familiar option of fried chicken, Adam placed his order and turned his focus on the older couple. “I really do appreciate this,” he insisted. “And admittedly, I kind of needed to see some familiar faces.”

“Life on the road not to your liking?” Burt asked sympathetically.

“It’s really not bad for the most part,” Adam assured him, not wanting to complain. “Actually, it’s been quite an interesting experience so far. The rest of the cast is fantastic and a really bunch of nice fellows. And I really can’t say enough about the director and the rest of the production team. The play is really amazing, and I can’t wait for you to see it.”

Carole smile warmly, glad that Adam had positive things to say about his experience.

“But..,” Burt prodded knowingly.

Adam sighed. “I can’t lie. Being away from Kurt is hard. Harder than even I expected,” he admitted. “We talk as often as we can, but I miss our life together. I miss our friends and having my own place. The novelty of hotels wore off pretty quickly. I’ve rather resigned myself that the rest of the tour is going to be something of a slog.”

“Well, then I’m very glad that we’re going to be close by for the next few weeks,” Carole pronounced.

“What’s your schedule like?” Burt asked after taking a sip of water. “Is it the usual theater schedule?”

“Yes, we have shows five nights a week and matinees on Wednesdays and Sundays. Mondays are our free days.”

“So you have off Sunday afternoons after the matinee?” Burt confirmed.

The Englishman nodded. “I don’t have to be at the theater until Tuesday morning for our run through before the evening performance,” Adam explained. “They wanted to make sure that we had adequate downtime, so we don’t burn out before the end of the tour.”

“That’s perfect,” Carole pronounced. “That will give us plenty of them to sightsee and have fun before I need to get you back in time for work.”

Adam swallowed the bite of bread he’d just taken and blinked in confusion. “Pardon? I mean…”

“You didn’t think we’d just run in to see you in the show,” Burt admonished teasingly. “If it’s all right with you, the plan will be that we pick you up after the Sunday matinee. You’ll spend the night at our place and on Monday, Carole can take you sightseeing around D.C. while I’m at work and we can all have dinner together.”

Carole nodded happily. “We’ve got plenty of space in our apartment, so you’ll have your own room and can get some real rest. And I’m sure some home cooking will be a nice change from eating out so much.”

Burt couldn’t help from laughing at the dumfounded expression on the younger man’s face. “I wasn’t lying that Carole planned to mother you. I hope that’s okay.”

Adam looked to the smiling woman, then back to Kurt’s father. “That’s… that’s very generous of you,” he said softly. “I really do appreciate the offer. But Richmond is so out of your way, and…”

“Nonsense,” Carole snorted indignantly. “You might as well come willingly because I have no qualms about badgering you until you give in.”

“I’d just go along with her,” Burt advised, with a wry glint in his eyes that reminded Adam so much of Kurt. “She’s been making plans to play tour guide to you since we got your tour dates.”

Adam couldn’t help from smiling. Niall would probably be pleased to have some privacy for a night or two. “Well, I suppose that I can’t turn down a lady’s generosity for a weekend.”

Carole laughed. “A weekend, he thinks. Burt, that’s so adorable.”

“Adam, I think that you’d better resign yourself to be our guest for the next few weekends,” her husband advised wryly. “If she can’t have Finn or Kurt, you’re next in line.”

“Adam, believe me, this is no trouble at all for us,” Carole promised. “We can do all kinds of touristy things around Washington and Burt’s even going to arrange a special tour for you at the Capital. This way you get a real break and a chance to really relax. I’m so looking forward to spending some time with you.”

It had always been something of a relief to Adam that the Hummels had accepted him as Kurt’s partner, but this display of generosity went well beyond what he rightly could have expected from them. It was more how he might have expected them to treat a son-in-law. To his shock, he realized that was exactly how they did see him.

It would be a nice break for both himself and Niall, who would probably be thrilled to have the occasional night with the hotel room to himself. As well as they got along, bit of privacy would be very much appreciated on both their parts.

Humbled and grateful for how the Hummels had accepted him into their family, Adam smiled warmly at the both of them. “That sounds like a splendid plan.  Thank you both so much,” he said sincerely.

Their waitress returned with their entrees and placed a plate of shrimp and grits in front of Adam. The dish was unfamiliar but still looked, and smelled, very appetizing. Maybe this was how he needed to embrace all of these strange, new experiences with a bit more openness. Accept the good and the bad and look forward to all the kinds if encounters that he could learn from.

Sitting at a table with parents that were not his own but had embraced him was such a moment where the strange melded with the ordinary. The Hummels were quite unlike his folks in many ways, but he felt completely at ease in their presence. He felt a very familiar warmth from Carole’s smile and concern, reminded of how his own mum worried over him. And Burt’s quiet concern did remind him much of how his father would watch out for him. He hadn’t known just how much he’d needed a bit of family kindness until that moment. It was definitely the kind of balm to ease his sore heart.

He had urged Kurt to take advantage of their time apart to try new thing and it was clear that he needed to do the same if he was going to be a man worthy of Kurt’s effort. There would be moments where he was unmoored from everything familiar and comforting and he would learn to not just weather those instances but embrace them. Kurt’s strength had always astounded him, and now he would learn to be strong as well.

When he was deposited back at his hotel with hugs and words of support and caring, Adam felt better about things than he had since they’d left Boston. Their room was empty, Niall having left a note that he and the lads were going out for drinks and to do a bit of exploring. Glad to have a bit of privacy, Adam checked his phone and found a voice mail that Kurt had left a few hours earlier. Listening to his lover’s voice brought a smile to his face.

Ringing up his lover, he felt himself smiling in relief when the younger man promptly answered the phone. “Hello darling,” Adam greeted happily. “Did I wake you?”

“Hi honey! No, rehearsal ran a bit long and I went out for coffee with some of the guys. I just got in about an hour ago,” Kurt admitted. Adam could detect the weariness in the younger man’s voice but he knew from experience that Kurt had a few hours of work ahead of him before he’d retire for the night.

“This is late for you all,” Adam noted.

“We’re working on the big numbers right now, so rehearsals take longer than usual,” Kurt explained, yawning a little. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

Adam smiled, realizing that Kurt’s family hadn’t informed him of their plans at abduction.

“Very much so, and you’re going to laugh when I tell you about my evening.”

Over the phone he heard Kurt settling down, shoving books out of his way so he could get comfortable. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me all about it.”

They had quite a good laugh together.

* * *

Elliot turned to tap Kurt on the shoulder to get his attention. “I’m going to get something to drink,” he yelled over the pounding music.

Kurt nodded that he’d heard, and Elliot watched as the younger man said something to the man he’d been dancing with about taking a break, leaving him with a charming smile and no promise of anything further that night. It wasn’t hard to catch the look of disappointment on Kurt’s erstwhile partner, and Elliot quickly moved to place himself between Kurt and the man he was leaving behind least the other man think of pressing his attentions further.

Elliot couldn’t blame him, if he was being totally honest with himself. He might think of Kurt as a good friend, but he wasn’t blind. Kurt was gorgeous and those tight jeans he was wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Watching Kurt losing himself in classic dance tunes like Frankie Goes to Hollywood and seeing the sweat dampening his shirt so that it clung to his toned muscles was certainly engaging and it wasn’t a surprise that he had garnered the attention of quite a few of the men that night. And when the two of them danced together, they were the envy of most of the men in the club. Like Elliot, Kurt was a natural showman and didn’t mind putting on a display.

Watching the younger man walk ahead of him, his hips moving in time to the music brought a smile to Elliot’s face. It might have taken a bit of cajoling and badgering, but he’d finally gotten Kurt to agree to a gay boys’ night out. With all of Kurt’s commitments, finding free time had not been easy and what little free time Kurt had was usually spent with their larger group of friends. The last thing that Elliot wanted was to be yet another person making demands on what little time to rest that Kurt had.

Elliot knew that he was more fortunate than most that he got along as well as he did with his roommates and genuinely enjoyed socializing with them. Dani was his best girl and Neil was one of the coolest guys he’d ever met and never minded hanging out at gay clubs with him, even enjoying being hit on occasionally. But sometimes a gay boy just needed another gay boy to hang out with. Having a friend who could appreciate their shared experiences and challenges was something that most people didn’t really appreciate until they didn’t have it.

But as the night went on, it became clear just how much Kurt had needed this time to decompress. Elliot knew how much he needed to let off some steam and just enjoy himself without worrying about entertaining others. Since Dani started dating Santana, Elliot had plenty of exposure to Kurt’s friends and he could easily see that Kurt would benefit from some time away from them. It was good that his entire social life didn’t circle around them every waking minute.

It had been an enjoyable night of kitting several of the more notable gay spots in Manhattan. They started off at the Monster Bar, enjoying the quiet ambience and the chance to catch up and enjoy a drink in the sophisticated setting. They strolled over to the Stonewall Inn; Kurt posing for a selfie in front of the historical landmark and posting it to his Instagram account. After grabbing a late supper, they made their way to the Highline Ballroom to get their dance on.

Watching the stress start to ease from Kurt’s face, Elliot was glad to see him finally letting go of some of the pressure he’d clearly been under the past few weeks. It had been a lot of fun to watch him dive head first into the greater gay culture of New York City in a way that he hadn’t had the opportunity to do before and Elliot was glad that he’d promised Adam to watch out for Kurt and drag him away from his textbooks for an evening.

“I’m so glad we came out tonight,” Kurt sighed happily as he sipped his rum and cola, leaning against Elliot casually and resting his head against the taller man’s shoulder. “I needed this.”

Elliot grinned brightly. “I could tell. You were seriously wound up.” He took a gulp of his seltzer. “I thought that I was going to have to resort to kidnapping.”

“Well, thank you for not giving up on me,” Kurt insisted. He raised his glass in toast. “Here’s to three-day weekends and a well-needed break from classes and rehearsals.”

“Cheers,” Elliot toasted back, his blue eyes twinkling with good spirits. He always like going out to clubs with friends, even if he wasn’t looking to get laid. Sometimes he just needed the chance to decompress and work off some stress by dancing. Kurt and Adam had sometimes gone out to clubs together, but it was good that he was seeing that it was perfectly fine for him to hang out and dance even if his boyfriend wasn’t around. Adam trusted Kurt and wouldn’t begrudge him the chance to bask in the admiring stares of other men since Kurt had absolutely zero interest in reciprocating. And to be honest, Elliot thought that that Kurt could benefit from seeing that other men did appreciate what he was showing.

He didn’t mind playing wingman for Kurt and watching out for him while he danced and had a few drinks. Most of the men who asked Kurt to dance seemed nice enough and were respectful of his boundaries, accepting that he was just looking to dance and enjoying himself for the evening. Elliot was able to deflect those who didn’t seem to know when to back off, letting Kurt have a good time without having to deal with jerks. Not that Elliot blamed them, because a man would have to be devoid of a sex drive or just plain stupid to not think that Kurt was amazing and wanting to get with him. He wanted Kurt to have the opportunity to enjoy himself without the aggravation of putting off overly determined suitors.

It was nearly three in the morning before the two of them stumbled into an all-night eatery to refuel, and in Kurt’s case, sober up a bit before calling it quits for the night. The diner was crowded with late night partygoers looking for coffee and sustenance. After hours of dancing, they all but crawled into their booth. Both of them were starving and tired, their feet sore and Kurt needed some carbs to soak up the remains of the alcohol he’d been consuming. He wasn’t drunk, and Elliot was glad that Kurt had the good sense to keep his drinking under control and hadn’t had to police him all night. He was just happily buzzed and relaxed enough that the whole world felt fantastic and even his aches and pains were wonderful.

“Well, you sure look like you had a good time,” Elliot teased, taking in to the sight of Kurt looking like a slightly rumpled, slightly tipsy and totally adorable sleepy kitten.

“I’m going to feel it later on,” Kurt complained playfully as he sipped his coffee. The dose of caffeine seemed to be perking him up a bit. “I’m so glad that I don’t have plans until evening today, because I don’t think I’ll be coherent enough to actually get anything done without screwing it up.”

Elliot nodded understandingly. At that moment, the only thing he’d probably manage was to fall face first into bed. “What do you have lined up?” he asked as the waitress placed their meals in front of them. French toast with a side of bacon for Kurt, and huevos ranchero for him.

“Just a night with the others at the loft. Something about a ‘worst movies’ film festival. We all need a break from our classwork,” Kurt yawned, pouring a generous portion of syrup over his food. He took a bite, closing his eyes and making a low moan in his throat. “This is so good…”

Elliot chuckled and gave him a little nudge with his foot. “Knock it off, or you’re going to get everyone in here all hot and bothered, Sally.”

Kurt laughed at the film reference, looking at his friend with eyes that were just a little too bright to be completely sober just yet. “What about you,” he asked. “Anything exciting to do today?”

“Going to relax today, but I’ll head to Jersey tomorrow to see my folks,” Elliot admitted. “I’ve been putting it off for a while, so I’ll do brunch with mom and dinner with my dad. That way I’ll be able to keep the peace between them for the next few weeks.”

“I can’t imagine having folks separated like that,” Kurt mused. “I mean, I lost my mom when I was young, so it’s just been Dad and me for a long time. I don’t know how it would be if they divorced and I had to split time between them. Or worse, feeling like I had to choose between them. Do your parents really hate each other that much?”

“I wouldn’t say that hate is the right word,” Elliot explained. “But they find a way to fight over everything. Me especially, at times. Personally, I think that they just enjoy trying to get a rise out of one another.”

Kurt winced reflexively. “But they must have cared about each other at one point,” he insisted. “I mean, they got married and they had you.”

“I know, but love doesn’t always last forever,” Elliot said sagely. “No one starts a marriage expecting it to end at some point, but it does happen. I mean, we’ve all had relationships that didn’t last.”

“Oh, that’s definitely true,” Kurt snorted. He was very cognizant of that fact of life.

Elliot cocked his head curiously. “That guy you were with before Adam. You don’t talk much about him,” he prodded gently.

Kurt sighed, his good mood fading slightly at the mention of his ex. He stabbed a piece of his French toast and chewed it thoughtfully before answering.

“Things weren’t good between us for a long time. A lot longer than I’d wanted to admit,” he admitted. “There were things that when I look back, I realize were wrong even before we got together as a couple. But I was in love and I really wanted to make it work. I was willing to put up with a lot for us to stay together as a couple, and it took a long time before it reached a point where I just couldn’t keep overlooking everything that he was doing. I didn’t realize that I was losing myself in the process. It was only after I ended things with Blaine that I started to understand just how much I had sacrificed to keep our relationship going and it wasn’t good for me.”

Kurt looked down at the table, suddenly embarrassed by what he was revealing. “When he told me that he’d been with someone else, I just felt like my whole world was ripped out from under my feet. After everything that I’d done… all the chances for myself that I gave up for him…”

Elliot nodded understandingly. “I get it. I’ve had my share of shitty relationships and been screwed around on. And no matter how good your reasons are for getting out, you can’t help from feeling like some kind of failure for it not working out.”

Kurt nodded in agreement. “I felt like absolute garbage for quite a while afterwards. That I wasn’t enough of man to keep Blaine from cheating on me. It didn’t help that pretty much everyone around us saw him as the handsome, desirable one and I should just feel lucky that he wanted to be with me at all.”

Elliot’s eyes softened in sympathy. “Kurt, you don’t really believe that, do you?” he asked gently. Kurt was such an amazing man and he hated the idea of his friend having such a low opinion of his worth.

“Not anymore,” Kurt assured him, offering a smile. “I’m not going to lie… it did take a while. I was a real mess for a couple of weeks and I didn’t see myself having anything to offer anyone. But then I got into NYADA, and I was starting to see that just maybe I was worth more than what being with Blaine gave me. Then I met Adam, but I’d already figured by that point that was I’m better off alone than being in a relationship that’s not good for me. Having Adam was kind of just the icing on the cake.”

Elliot nodded approvingly. “That’s good, Kurt. I’m glad to hear that. Sometimes it’s hard to recognize just how much damage you’re doing to yourself by staying in a bad relationship,” he confided. “And you’re right… being single is definitely better than being treated badly by someone that says he loves you.

“I mean, I love Adam,” Kurt insisted. “I really do. The difference is how he treats me compared to Blaine was really shocking because I didn’t know that a relationship could really be like that.  It took me a long time to be able to put what happened with Blaine behind me and learn to really trust again. To be able to open myself up, which is the hardest thing for me. I was just so tired of being hurt all the time by people that were supposed to care about me.”

Elliot didn’t say anything, seeing that Kurt really needed to unload these concerns. Whether it was because he really trusted Elliot as a friend, or just because he had a few drinks in him, he seemed willing to talk and Elliot wanted to give him the space to do so.

Kurt’s expression softened as his memories drifted back to the early days of his relationship with Adam. “I know that you don’t know Adam so well, but he was so amazing those first months,” Kurt insisted. “He was so patient with me and put up with a lot of my bullshit because I had so many trust issues. I didn’t feel pressured or pushed to do things before I was ready because he’d get impatient. He just let me know that he loved me and let me work things out in my own time. He supported me and let me see that I deserve so much more than I’d been willing to settle for. And when I freaked out over things, he didn’t get offended and he let me understand that I deserve to be loved and treated well.

“The same goes for how my friends and I get along,” he pointed out. “I love Rachel and we’ve been friends for a long time now, but there was a point when I was really ready to cut ties with her altogether.”

The older man sipped at his tea thoughtfully. “She can be a handful,” he acknowledged tactfully. “To be honest, that doesn’t surprise me.” He’d seen Rachel’s type many times before. People who were so focused on their own ambitions that they were willing to sacrifice anyone around them to facilitate their advancement. Thankfully, he didn’t see her unless they were all hanging out as a group. While he couldn’t claim to know her that well, he didn’t think that he liked her very much personally. Still, he was sure that she had to have some good points for Kurt to be her friend.

“It wasn’t easy between the two of us, because we were rivals as much as friends a lot of the time. And her competitiveness can be difficult to deal with,” Kurt mused, remembering all the times that Rachel would run roughshod over those she claimed as friends in her pursuit of a solo or role or romantic partner.

“We went through some really rough times, but unlike Blaine, Rachel proved that she can change for the better,” Kurt insisted. “By point that I was ready to call it quits, I was meeting new people at NYADA and I realized that I could be better off without her. I deserved friends that cared about me and supported me, and I wasn’t afraid of being alone. I made it clear where my limits were and showed her that I wasn’t going to be stepped on her for convenience any longer.”

“And she stepped up,” Elliot granted.

Kurt nodded, a fond smile touching his features. “She really did,” he said with a sense of quiet satisfaction. “For all her faults, Rachel really does care and when push came to shove, she’s been there for me.”

Elliot grinned over the rim of his mug. “I’m glad, Kurt,” he stated. “I know that it’s hard to push away people that aren’t good for you, but it’s good that you learned to stand up for yourself. That’s not easy to do with someone that you care about.”

Kurt’s eyes dimmed. “No, it definitely isn’t,” he acknowledged. “But I was surprised that I found myself so willing to do so. Not just with Rachel. Most of my old friends from Lima… things got really weird for a time and I wasn’t sure if it would be worth the effort to keep those friendships.”

Elliot watched the younger man carefully, seeing both regret and resolve there. He had no doubt that if Kurt had truly believed that the friendships were no longer salvageable that he would have walked away from them. That he hadn’t revealed a great deal about Kurt’s character and his loyalty to those he cared about than anything else. That level of loyalty was a rare thing and something to be admired, but he knew from personal experience that it wasn’t always appreciated or reciprocated by those it was directed towards.

“I’ve been there,” Elliot assured him. “I had some friends in high school that ended up being total douchebags after we graduated so I cut ties with them. Life is just too short. I mean, all friendships go through rough spots, but it shouldn’t feel like work all the time. Or that you’re the one constantly bending over backwards to make things happen.”

Kurt nodded understandingly. “I went for a long time without any real friends,” he admitted softly. “And once I had some, it felt like I was in a constant battle with them. We were always competing for solos or attention, so it probably wasn’t the healthiest start to relationships.”

Elliot just laughed. “Par for the course with theater students,” he confirmed with a grin.

Kurt chuckled, looking down at his plate ruefully. “I guess that we’re still working on finding the balance between friendship and healthy competition. I mean, there are things for me that are deal breakers, but I’m still learning when and where to draw that line.”

“Don’t feel bad about that. There’s a pretty broad range between cutting everyone out of your life and being a total doormat,” Elliot advised. “It doesn’t make you an asshole for standing up for yourself when you get pushed too far.”

There was a clear look of relief on the younger man’s face at that assurance. “Thanks,” he said sincerely. “I think I needed to hear that.”

“Yeah, you kind of did,” Elliot chuckled, finishing his breakfast. “Sometimes it’s good to hear that it’s okay to expect your friends to treat you the way you treat them. Or give yourself permission to raise a fuss if they don’t. Your real friends will come around and respect your boundaries.”

Kurt pursed his lips thoughtfully as he considered Elliot’s advice, absorbing it and seeing that the older man was right. He did no one any good by giving in all the time. All it did was build resentment in him and feed into the inclination of others to keep taking whatever he was able to give. Letting Rachel, Sam and the others know where his lines were and that he would not stand to have his limits breached went a long way in smoothing over a lot of the hurt feelings and resentments he’d been harboring for way too long. Or deciding that keeping contact was no longer worth the aggravation, as he had with Blaine.

“Now, on to more pleasant subject for conversation,” Elliot pronounced. “I did have an ulterior motive for inviting you out tonight.”

Kurt grinned impishly. “Oh? Do tell…”

Elliot added a dash more hot sauce to his eggs. “Your school musical…”

Kurt couldn’t help laughing because his friend had been pestering for details for weeks now.

“You saw the announcement,” he reminded Elliot. Even the professional industry publications had taken notice of NYADA’s ambitious project and listed it as one of the major theatrical events of the season to keep an eye on.

“I know, but you guys totally wreaked aspirations for most of the senior class at NYU,” Elliot warned. “That was a totally ballsy move to stage something that huge. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about it.”

Kurt chuckled and shook his head. “And have Madam Tibideaux find out that I spilled the beans? Sorry, but I value my life.”

When the waitress stopped by their table with a fresh pot of coffee, Kurt happily accepted a refill. “What about you?” he asked, adding milk and sugar to his drink. “Aren’t you planning to be in NYU’s show.”

Elliot shrugged. “Actually, I wasn’t planning to this year.”

“But wouldn’t that help your prospects after graduation?” Kurt asked.

“Normally I’d say yes, but they’re doing ‘On The Town’ and after last year I just can’t bring myself to be in another musical like that,” the older man sighed. “Besides, I’m not a fan of the professor directing. He’s a real ball-buster and I’ll bet that half the cast quits before opening night.”

Kurt couldn’t help from wincing. “Why would they have him directing then? I’m sure there have to be better options.”

Elliot nodded. “There are, but if NYADA manages to pull off your show the way I expect that you will, whatever we do is going to fall flat. No one who really values their reputation wants to be seen in comparison.”

“But it would still be a chance for you to get yourself seen,” Kurt argued gently. “I mean, agents and producers will see the show and…”

“Yeah, seen in a production that doesn’t speak to anything about who I am as a performer. I can understand why you love traditional theater, Kurt, but if I had to face doing endless revivals of classic musicals that are so old that they can be carbon dated, I know I’d be miserable.”

Kurt nodded understandingly. While he might love the grind and the routine, Elliot needed something where his own creative juices could find an outlet. The older man would probably make a serious go of being a rock star if that was where his ambitions lay, but he enjoyed acting as much as he did singing.

“So what are you going to do?” Kurt questioned.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past few weeks. I know that taking the more conventional theater approach is the logical thing to do, but it just wouldn’t work for me. There are some independent theater groups that are doing some really interesting things,” Elliot answered, a happier glint in his eyes. “Not as crazy as the Hellfire Circus, but not your usual stuff.

“Some of them are doing unorthodox takes on familiar shows or doing stuff that’s really new and exciting,” he explained. “Since it’s not on Broadway for mass-market consumption, they’re able to be a lot more experimental and I think something like that might be a good fit for me. It’ll give me a chance to try lots of new stuff to see what really rocks my boat.”

Kurt nodded, thinking that his friend just might be on to something. “That sounds like it can be really exciting.”

“I’ve lined up auditions lined up with the Attic Theater here in New York and I’ll be flying out to audition with the Steppenwolf and Magic Theater companies over the next few weeks,” Elliot confided. “I’ve seen a lot of their productions and really like what they do. It’ll really give me the chance to do the kind of work that will let me push myself creatively and maybe make a living at it.”

“That’s fantastic,” Kurt insisted, grinning at his friend. “They’d be idiots not to snatch you right up.”

“Thanks. I really needed to hear that I’m doing the right thing,” Elliot sighed. “I figure that I can do that for a year or two before really deciding how I want to focus my career. And it’ll put my folks at ease because I’ve been getting a lot of flak from the both of them.”

Not for the first time, Kurt was thankful that he understood his own aspirations as a performer and what he hoped for in his career. Elliot was one of the most talented and charismatic people he’d ever met, and he understood what it was like to feel like you were not fitting in. Or that your dreams didn’t mesh with what others thought you should pursue. Elliot needed to find a niche that suited his inclinations and allowed him the freedom to grow.

“I’m serious… I’m really happy for you,” Kurt insisted. “I think that you’ll really do great with any of them, though you’ll have to excuse me if I hope the Attic Theater offers you a chance that you can’t refuse. I’d love for you to be based in New York for a bit longer.”

“Hey, they don’t call working actors ‘gypsies’ for no reason,” Elliot reminded his friend with a smile. “We might end up roaming all over the place, but our homes are where we have our friends.”

Kurt nodded with a soft smile on his face, thinking about his own wandering “gypsy” who was following his dreams and remembered his conversation with Adam’s mother. They hadn’t chosen careers that were stable or stationary, and it was a good thing that he was seeing that now. He would be prepared with it was his turn to flee the nest and see where his fortunes took him, and he would be even more confident that he and Adam would be able to weather whatever life and fate threw at them.

In the meantime, he had his friends and his studies. That was enough.

* * *

Rachel winced as the student costumer accidently stuck her with a pin while taking in the bodice of her dress.

“I’m sorry,” the young man exclaimed, checking the spot where she’d been inadvertently stabbed though Rachel thought that he was probably more concerned about getting blood on the shift than actually injuring her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, pushing down any annoyance she was feeling and settling so he could get back to work. The sophomore working on her costume was one of the many underclassmen working on the mass of costumes needed for the ensemble players, leaving the more senior students free to work on the major players. She knew that he had several people to get through that afternoon and didn’t have the luxury of taking his time or chitchatting. That was saved for the leads, whose costumes were their priority. The costumes for the ensemble just needed to fit well enough and look appropriate for their scenes.

In another corner of the room, Rachel could see the student playing Eponine having her fitting done. Kimberly Larkin was well known to the entire school; a senior with what everyone claimed was a once in a generation voice that earned accolades whenever she performed. Known to be as talented an actress as she was a singer, she was laughing and joking with the student costumer and seemed to be having a good time as minute adjustments were made so that her costume would be perfect. Professor Menkes came over to check her student’s work and offered her own suggestions.

The student working on Rachel’s costume finished and sat back with sigh. “Okay, that should do it,” he pronounced. Rachel looked down and saw that her hem was neatly asymmetrical and would look suitably ragged from the audience.

She had two basic costumes for the show, a basic shift and bodice that would be adjusted with various caps and shawls for the various group scenes she was involved in and her prostitute costume. Normally she would have enjoyed the chance to play dress up and see what the costumers had come up with, but it was hard to take pleasure in it when her jealousy was starting to rear its ugly head.

Rachel knew that she had no cause to be upset about anything. She had the opportunity to perform in what was one of the most anticipated events of the theater season. It was a chance to be seen and show that she could defy her reputation and be a solid member of a larger cast. She had, for the most part, truly enjoyed herself. She had classmates that she was friendly with in the cast and the larger musical numbers sounded absolutely amazing. And there were several seniors that didn’t have many more solo lines than she did. She could rightly be very proud of the role she was playing.

But seeing someone else playing the role that she knew she could do well… that had eaten at her more than she wanted to admit. As she changed back into her street clothes, she thought back to what Madam Tibideaux had asked of her so long ago; having to watch other actresses playing the parts she wanted while she was in a supportive part and thinking that it should be here in that role. She was sure that she would be able to handle it, but could not deny that she was jealous.

It was clear just how selfish and naive she had been. She thought of Kurt and Tina and Mercedes and how ruthlessly she’d defended her domination of New Directions. It was no wonder that they’d thought she was such a bitch and that no one wanted to be her friend. She’d more than deserved the distain they’d shown her.

Sitting down to pull on her shoes, she thought back to high school and even her early days at NYADA. She had been so focused on cementing her place as NYADA’s brightest star that she didn’t notice that she was repeating the same pattern that she’d followed at McKinley, though with drastically different results. There was no Mr. Shuster to protect her from her own impulses and acquiesce to her demands, least she storm out for the umpteenth time. Her classmates now were not willing to step aside for her. She had nearly lost everything because she was so stupid and stubborn and refused to acknowledge what everyone was trying to tell her.

She needed to get beyond this, Rachel told herself firmly. Yes, she would make an astonishing Eponine and one day, she would be the one in the starring role. She knew that there were more than a few people that fully expected her to flake out and start throwing a diva tantrum and six month ago, she couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t have. But in a room full of her classmates? She managed to keep herself under control.

But that didn’t change the fact that was really, really wanted that part. She wanted to be a star and one day she would be. Her participation in this show would be about proving herself. Rachel knew what she needed to do so it was time to tell her ego to take a back seat for once and just focus on her job. She needed to do this for herself if for no other reason. Because if she gave in to her impulses now, no one at NYADA would trust her with a role again and that could have career-long repercussions.

When she emerged from the changing room, she saw that the boys had started to trail in for their own fittings. Now Kurt was standing on the block, patiently allowing the student to adjust the fitting of his townsman costume. He was chatting with Jamie, who was wearing his prisoner rags, and looked totally at ease. She knew that he was easily as ambitious as she was and had no idea how he was managing being an understudy. She knew that if it was her in that spot that she would not be able to help imagining all kinds of ways to engineer an “unfortunate (though not too serious) accident” that would allow her to assume the role that she should have had in the first place.

Kurt spotted her and waved her over. “Hey Rach… you already finished?” he asked.

She nodded, making sure to stay out of the costumer’s way while he took in Kurt’s pants. “All done,” she confirmed. “And they look really good.”

“I can’t wait for dress rehearsals to start,” Jamie chimed in. “It feels like we’ve been working on this forever.”

“I can’t wait to see the sets,” Kurt insisted, turning so that his fitter could see how the alterations looked from all angles. “With a stage as big as we’re going to have, they’re going to be able to do something pretty spectacular.”

“Well, we’ve only got a few weeks until we go into tech,” Rachel reminded. “We’re getting into the home stretch.”

Kurt nodded, getting a delighted expression on his face. “This is going to be so amazing,” he insisted. “We’ve dreamed about being in a production like this. With this group on a stage like that… this is the next best thing to a real professional show.”

“Speaking of professional shows, are you going to do the Shakespear company again?” Rachel asked curiously. “You were so good that they’d be idiots not to ask you back.”

Kurt nodded. “Thankfully I don’t have to audition until we’re done with Les Miz, so I’ll have some time to recover and prepare a bit.”

“What are you guys doing this year?” Jamie asked curiously.

“A Midnight’s Summer Dream for the comedy and Troilus and Cressida for the tragedy,” he answered.

“Oh, those sound like fun,” Rachel said approvingly. “Are you reading for Puck?”

Kurt nodded with a smile. “Definitely. And for Troilus I’ll read Patroclus and Paris. I think I’ve got a pretty good chance of getting at least one of them.”

“After last season, I think you’ll have your pick of whatever roles you want,” Rachel insisted.

His alterations finished, Kurt stepped down from the block and turned to Rachel. “Why don’t you send in your CV?” he asked. “They’re always looking for new talent and it’ll be a lot of fun.”

Rachel felt her heart beat just a bit faster in surprise. “Are you sure you want me there?” she asked frankly. She wouldn’t totally blame him if he wanted to keep her as far away as possible from the place where he’d found his first professional success. Not with the way she’d used every other opportunity to upstage him.

He nodded emphatically. “Sure! I’m asking Tina also. I’d like to have some more friends there and it would be a great line in your CV.”

“I’d hug you, except I don’t want to get us both stuck full of pins,” she proclaimed, smiling so widely that she felt like her face might split. She couldn’t believe how generous he was being, giving his approval to her step into a place that he had already gained a level of respect. “I just… I don’t want to intrude on your space.”

Kurt just snorted and handwaved away her concern. “Don’t be silly,” he admonished gently. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you there. It’ll be a good experience for all of us.”

Rachel could not have felt more gratitude for anyone else’s show of open-handedness. Kurt had no reason to make that offer outside of the desire to help his friends get a leg up into their profession. It was something that had their situations been reversed that she couldn’t honestly claim that she would have done the same since her ego would have demanded protecting.

Kurt had always been more caring and willing to share with his friends. Even at his worst, he would never have sought to take advantage of someone else’s opportunities. He had no ulterior motives and no reason beyond wanting to share his good fortune to issue this invitation to her, especially given her past behavior.

This was another test, she realized. Not that she thought that Kurt meant it as such, but it was a test nevertheless. Kurt had a right to expect her to support him and too often in the past she failed to do so. She was determined to prove once and for all that she wasn’t that greedy, selfish, insecure child any longer.

“I love you so much,” she sighed. “How about I take you out for dinner tonight? So I can pick your brain about auditioning since I really need help there?”

“Can we make it tomorrow?” Kurt asked. “I’ve got a rehearsal session this afternoon and I wanted to call Adam tonight.”

She smiled brightly. “Sure.”

Unable to resist, she reached out to hug him and ignored the pin that suddenly stuck into her arm. So much had happened over the past year, good and bad. But she could look back and see how far she’d come from the child who’d been so convinced that missing out on her dream role meant that her life was over. She was proud of who she was becoming and wanted to see just how far she could go.

One thing was clear, though. She no longer wanted to do it alone. She wanted her friends with her so they could share and celebrate one another’s successes. That would make all the hard work worthwhile.

***

Adam arrived at the theater with the rest of the cast in plenty of time to prepare, feeling the gentle sizzle of excitement that came with an opening night. It didn’t matter that they had already completed a successful run in Boston. A new theater meant a new audience and a new chance to introduce their play.

He’d stopped by the box office to make sure that the tickets for Kurt’s family were set aside before heading to the dressing room that he shared with Niall and Ifan. Niall was already seated at his table and digging into a box of chocolates that had been waiting for him.

“Have one,” he offered, holding the box out to Adam, who took what he hoped would be a cream-filled bonbon and popped it into his mouth.

“From Cynthia?” he asked, nodding his head towards the small vase of flowers at Niall’s table.

His friend nodded, grinning happily. “She wants to make a big deal each time we open in a new city. But then, she’s not the only one.”

Chewing on the chocolate that turned out to be filled with an orange cream, Adam went to his own area and wasn’t surprised to see several flower arrangements waiting for him. One was from the Hummels, wishing him well and expressed their excitement over seeing him perform. Another from his family, least he think they were forgetting about him.

It was the third bouquet that was most dear to him; a small arrangement of white roses and lavender that looked as lovely as it smelled and left him with a sense of calm and peace. He didn’t need to read the card to know that it was from Kurt and would express nothing but love and regret that he could not be there to offer his affection in person.

Suddenly all of the fears about the weeks of separation facing them and whatever uncertainties faced them didn’t matter. Adam knew what he was working for and that was the day that they would be together again. Knowing that Kurt would be supporting him and working just as hard left Adam secure that they would survive this time. They would continue to grow and thrive, becoming stronger as individuals and as a couple.

In the meantime... he sat down at his dressing table to start the lengthy preparations for that night’s performance.

[lenfaz]

Sea Squad, ch. 6 (6/14)

Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife,  his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU

Rating: M

Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)

Banner (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!

This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.

A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge   @thesschesthair   and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.

Link to  FFnet & AO3

on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 

Chapter 6

The hours turned long and they’d hit the somewhat duller stages of planning. The initial excitement for the heist had given way to long hours of detailing, building the vault replica, and going over the execution. It required a level of focus and concentration that brought out frayed nerves in everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

Nemo had always been good at keeping his composure, and Poseidon had a knack for coming in and out of the character he was playing without wearing himself out. But the rest of them were starting to show signs of distress.

Ariel and Eric bantered constantly, but their rapport had taken on a sniping quality, even about the most petty items, right down to their Netflix queue. The uptick in Smee’s fidgeting with his cap, as well as his obsessive need to re-review the footage of the casinos and note every single detail, was leaving an ache in Killian’s jaw from all the clenching.

LJ, meanwhile, was giving Killian and Liam the silent treatment, as he kept his headphones glued to his ears and his nose buried in a seemingly endless stream of books.

Milah had taken to disappearing for hours at a time, keeping whatever - or whomever - she was doing under wraps. All of which suited Killian just fine, as the last thing they needed was to alert Gold that she was in town. Besides he knew Milah and trusted her. He knew she could be stealthy when she wanted, so he kept his mouth shut.

Ursula spent most of her time shadowing her co-workers at the casino, and only dropping by to feed them new information and get orders from Liam. The two of them would retreat into a corner, all bent heads and whispered words. They didn’t fool Killian at all. He knew Ursula was updating Liam on all of Belle’s movement and a part of him wanted to call his brother on wasting effort by splitting their focus. But Liam had promised, as did he, so he knew he owed his brother this chance.

As for Henry, Killian knew he still felt like an outsider. Luckily, the kid had thick skin and when he was done bonding with LJ over music and comics, he’d retreat to his own corner, plugging in his headphones and writing in his journal. His quiet edge was one Killian easily recognized as the product of spending too much time on his own in foster and group homes, and he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the kid because of it.  When he was not shadowing LJ, Killian had been working with Henry, going over what he needed to do and rehearsing and timing his performance. The lad was good - more than good - and Killian couldn’t help the pride he felt as time and again Henry delivered on what he was asked to do.

Which was why when he found out that Henry wasn’t an expert on poker - or any card game - Killian took the kid under his wing and vowed to teach him everything he knew. Unlike his celebrity students, Henry was sharp as a knife, picking up on what the game was about and executing bluffs with such mastery that it brought tears to Killian’s eyes. He was getting fairly good at blackjack too. He couldn’t count cards with Liam’s speed, but he was good at making quick decisions in the heat of the game and landing on his feet.

After the first couple of nights, LJ asked to join the game, and Killian got a glimpse at another side of his little brother. When he was at ease - and he seemed most at ease with Smee and Henry - he could be quite charming. His permanent scowl gave way to an easy smile and a dry wit, his hands moving fast as he dealt cards, his eyes not giving away a single thing as he called bets. He proved to be as good as Killian at bluffing, and even better than Liam at reading a table. It was enough to make Killian weep, again, which resulted in LJ throwing his cards at him, calling him a softie.

Clearing his throat, Killian looked at the three of them. “We need a night out.”

“To do what?” Henry asked

“Get some drinks, play some cards, bet some money,” he replied with a wave of his hand.

“So basically the same thing we’re doing right here,” LJ retorted, clearly not impressed with him. Killian, though, knew by now it was a tactic his brother played. If you don’t get your hopes too high, the fall doesn’t hurt that much.

“Not exactly the same… we’re lacking a certain ambiance here.”

Henry gave them a wry grin. “I’m underage… I won’t be allowed anywhere.”

“There is so much you need to learn about this town, lads.” Killian turned around to his most loyal companion. “What do you say, Smee? Should we show these two what the City of Sin has to offer?”

/-/

He had to give it to both of them, Henry and LJ cleaned up well for their night out. Black slacks, button down shirts, nice shoes, the whole nine yards. Which was slightly funny considering that they ended up in one of the seediest joints Vegas had to offer. But the drinks were good, the tables were humming with activity, and no one even thought to card them with Killian by their side. They joined a poker game in one of the private rooms for a few hours before they took onto the blackjack tables. Henry held his own in both while also holding down his liquor. LJ, true to form, simply took everything by storm, including charming the brunette dealer who kept leaning closer to him with each new hand she dealt. When she announced the end of her shift and threw a coy glance at LJ, Killian knew the night was coming to an end.  At least for some of them.

Smee and Henry moved to cash in their winnings, while he and LJ finished their drinks.

“You know you’ve had a tail for the past few hours, don’t you?” LJ said as he placed his glass on the table.

“Aye, I’m aware.” Killian’s fingers moved along the rim of the glass, resisting the urge to look behind him. “She’s been shadowing us all night.”

“You shadow her, she shadows you… is this some kind of kinky foreplay I want to know nothing about?”

Killian laughed. “I wish.” He ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand. “Will this be a problem for you?”

LJ shrugged. “Nah, I don’t think so. She might be good with faces, but I’m good at being a no one. It’s going to come in handy this time. But I should take off before she makes it any closer. Perhaps seek refuge in a different bed for the time being.” His eyes glinted with mischief.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that’s a sacrifice you’re willing to bear, and I’m sure that lovely croupier would be more than happy to assist you.”

“I’ll get Henry and Smee to leave without coming back here, just in case. I figure you can run interference for us?”

Killian raised his glass at him. “I can do that. It’s me she’s after anyway.”

LJ squeezed his arm. “Killian, be careful, aye?” The concern and fondness in his words made Killian swallow.

“Aye, I will.”

He watched as LJ retreated, playing with the chips on the table and downing his drink. He ordered another as the new dealer showed up. As she set up the table, Killian counted out his heartbeats - one, two, three, four…

On five, Emma sat down beside him, cashing in a hundred dollar bill.

“I’d have thought you’d have privileges for playing in Gold’s casinos, Swan.”

“Fancy places are not my thing. And I could say the same to you. Nemo’s protegee should be able to access better places than this.”

He tilted his head, studying her profile. He wasn’t surprised by the words. It was only natural that she’d set to go after him, looking under every rock for every single piece of information she could gather on him.

There just the two of them on the table and the dealer opened up the bets. He placed a chip on the felt and waited for his cards. “What can I say, this place has its benefits…”

She didn’t pay that much attention to her cards. “What were you doing here tonight?”

Shifting a little, he doubled his bet. “Just passing the time.”

She passed on her bet and Killian winced. She should have doubled with the cards she’d been dealt. “Really? And who were your friends?”

A small smirk came to his lips. “Just some acquaintances I hadn’t had the chance to catch up with in a long time.”

The house went over. He won a good sum. Emma won the bare minimum.

“Funny you should say that, because when I looked into you, I couldn’t find a single associate. Or friend. Or acquaintance.”

Aye. He’d anticipated that, which is why he’d made sure Smee erased all traces of his known associates, along with his family and friends. Only Nemo remained, as it gave him a valid connection to be in the city. If push came to shove, he could claim that he was here to be with his friend.

He examined his cards and shrugged a shoulder. “What can I say, I’m a lone wolf.”

“Bullshit, Killian.” She raised her hand to double her bet and his hand moved of its own accord to stop her.

“The house has too many chances to take this one, let it pass.”

The way she cocked an eyebrow at him stirred something in him, but he reigned it in and slowly removed his hand. Emma stared down at her cards for a long moment before passing on raising her bet. He wouldn’t count that as a sign of anything, that way would only lead to heartache in the end. They continued to play in silence for a few hands, Killian earning a nice pile of chips while Emma fell behind. Resisting the urge to give her more pointers, Killian leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table.

“How's working for Gold?”

The corner of her lips lifted in the hint of a smile. “Please, as if you were interested in my work.”

“You wound me, Swan.”

“Drop the act. I know you’re up to something and I know you’re trying to weasel information out of me. But I’m not the girl that I was. I’m not falling for your charming lies this time.” She gathered her chips, leaving one behind for a tip, and walked away.

He shouldn’t go after her, he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the temptation was stronger than his will. Picking up his own chips and sliding them in his pocket, he flipped one to the dealer and followed Emma out.

He caught up with her almost at the exit and pulled her into a corner of the room. Resisting the urge to give in and press his body to hers, he focused instead on his words.

“You don't want to do this. You don’t want to be spying for Gold, Emma.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, especially since you’re the reason I need to find this type of employment.” While there was bitterness in her words, her eyes also seemed focused to his lips. Killian felt the same pull and he moved closer to her, his fingers itching to trace along the soft skin of her arms. Before he could, Emma shook her head and pressed her hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Your charm no longer works on me, Jones. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” He sighed, resisting the urge to drag her out of here and bring her to the warehouse, to tell her everything. If this was his con alone, he’d do it in a heartbeat. But too much was a stake here, too many of his friends were depending on him. They were already on shaky ground considering Liam’s focus on Belle, Killian couldn't add more complications to the mix.

Still, he couldn’t leave without letting her know the type of man she was dealing with. “I know Gold. He’s dangerous. He doesn’t play fair.”

She snorted, tilting her head to the side as she glared at him. “And you do?”

The barb hurt and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I have a code, believe it or not.”

“I don’t need a code. I need answers,” she whispered and her confession shook them both. Emma’s eyes widened and she tried to move away from him, but Killian grabbed her elbow and pulled her to him.

“What is it that you're after?” His eyes bored into her, studying her face for any hint of what was really going on. “It can be just the job, not really. Gold pays well, but nothing that you cannot make elsewhere.”

“I don't have that many options left with my reputation ruined, remember?”

“Bullshit. You’ve been highly rewarded for your work.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. He should learn to keep his own damn mouth shut.

“Keeping tabs on me, huh?”

He ignored her question, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only. It was clear that when he walked out of that room on her, there had been more than her job at stake.

“What was it? What did I cost you, Emma?”

Her face was a blank mask, her eyes avoiding his. “Wouldn't you like to know”

He reached out, caressing his thumb along her cheek. He kept his next words quiet, the desperate plea in them clear. “Please, love, tell me… I need to know.”

She gave him one last assessing look before she pulled away. “Goodbye, Killian.”

He took a breath and let her walk away. When she was finally out of his line of sight, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

Whatever it was that Emma Swan was looking, whatever it was that made striking a deal with Gold worth it, he was going to find out.

And he was going to do everything he could to deliver it to her.

/-/

After another night spent with rum and restless dreams, Killian stood at the entrance of the warehouse, willing the pounding in his head to pass. He closed his eyes and sank against the exterior wall as he pressed a bottle of cold water against his temple.

The sound of car tires on gravel had him open one eye and face the glaring morning sunlight again. He turned just as a taxi pulled around the curve and LJ got out. His leather jacket was draped over one arm and he carried a cardboard tray with a few paper cups on his free hand. His hair damp and disheveled, shirt wrinkled, and that spring in his step could only mean one thing.

“You look like you had a good time,” Killian said as LJ handed him one of the cups. The welcome scent of steaming coffee filled his senses and Killian discarded the water bottle, taking a long, slow sip of the warm beverage. It tasted burnt and bitter, making him regret all his life choices - especially this one - while he pondered how his brother could even drink this.

LJ left the rest of the tray on a nearby bench and took a sip of his coffee, his wicked smile and glinting eyes a silent answer to Killian’s comment. “You still look to be in one piece…” He twitched one side of his mouth, making a show of checking for wounds. “I thought I was going to get a call in the middle of the night and have to go pick you up at the police station.”

“I would have never dared to interrupt your much needed getting laid-time, little brother. I would have called Smee.” Killian lifted one shoulder as he ventured one more sip of the coffee. Yup, still terrible. “Besides, she doesn’t have anything on me.”

“She has you by the balls, but please, by all means, keep deluding yourself.”

Killian chuckled, tossing the poor excuse for a coffee in the trash bin. “Next time, unless it’s done by a proper barista with freshly ground coffee beans and a espresso machine, bring me tea, LJ.”

“Like you wouldn’t find a fault in any poorly steeped tea too, brother.”

Touché. Killian placed two fingers over his heart, a part of him grateful that LJ had gotten to know that side of him.

“Come on,” LJ called as he picked up the tray and tilted his head towards the front door. “Henry's cocoa is getting cold and the poor lad needs his sugar to function properly.”

He smirked as he passed LJ and opened the door and held it for him. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

LJ shrugged. “He's cool and honestly, I feel a lot more comfortable around him than some of the others. He hasn't been in the business much…”

The meaning behind the words was clear. “So anything related to the Jones name doesn't mean much to him.”

LJ gave him a shy smile. “Yeah, that's a perk.”

Killian placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It's good to make friends, good friends, early in your career. People you can trust.” He looked at him and a wave of sympathy flooded him. He wanted to be that for his brother so desperately, as Liam had been for him. And yet, he understood more than anyone the need to shine for yourself, outside your family name. “You don't have to do everything alone.”

“I know… is that Smee for you?”

“Aye.”

Henry made his way towards them, his eyes almost rolling at the back of his head. “Finally, man.” He reached for the cup that LJ handed to him and took a long sip. His eyes closed, he sighed in contentment. “You even remember the cinnamon”.

Killian cocked an eyebrow, some memory poking at the back of his mind that he couldn’t place. “Cinnamon?”

LJ lifted a shoulder carelessly as he finished his coffee and tossed the cup in a nearby trash bin. “Yeah, the kid has weird taste.”

Henry gave him a challenging look. “Who are you calling weird, you nimble fingered freak?”

LJ gave him a cheesy smile, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Henry. “Careful with the whipped cream there, Henry.  We don't want you to put on weight and miss your acrobatic stunt mark over there. A lot is a stake here, maybe I should switch you to skim milk.”

Henry tossed his finished drink, puffing out his chest in his best in his best impression of a face-off. “Please, that'll never happen.” He opened his arms with an arrogant smile. “I'm too good for this.”

LJ grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and took out a bill. “Prove it, fly boy. I have a twenty that says you can’t make that jump.”

“You’re on.”

/-/

It took less than thirty minutes to set up the recreation of what would happen in the vault in a few days. Henry gave LJ a self-satisfied smile as he climbed into the cash cart.

Everyone gathered around and Killian figured it was as good a time as any to do a run-down of the operation. The rest of them might as well benefit from the bet Henry and LJ had going on.

“Alright, here’s the rundown. On the night of the fight, Poseidon’s package will arrive at the casino at 7:15. From there, LJ needs to work his magic, get the codes we need to access the elevator. At 7:30, Ariel and Eric will work their own magic and get the cart delivered, with Henry inside, into the vault. At that point we’re all in.” He paused and glanced around the room. “All-in. We can’t back up, we can’t screw up, we can’t delay. Once the vault is closed, we have thirty minutes before he suffocates.”

“Gee, you better not fuck it up, guys, or I swear I’ll haunt you from the underworld.” Henry waved as they closed the lid and Ariel and Eric rolled the cart into the vault replica.

From the corner of his eye, Killian watched as Liam entered the warehouse, his hair in the same state of dishevel as LJ’s had been, the same spring in his step. Bloody arse. Liam stood next to him and watched intently as the action unfolded.

“When the power goes down, it means that all entries to the vault and the elevator are on lock down for two minutes. And that is when we strike.”

The lights in the vault dimmed and Henry pushed the false top of the cart open, slowly removing himself from his confines. “It is going to feel like I spent days in there,” he said as he positioned himself on top of the cart.

“Alright, flyboy,” LJ teased, “we’ve left you in the middle of the room, far away from everything. There are sensors on the floor, and you need to get from where you are to the door without activating any of them. What are you going to do, hotshot? I have twenty saying you can’t make it.”

“I have ten saying you can!” Smee called.

“You can do it, Henry! I have faith in you!” Ariel cheered, clapping her hands in excitement.

Liam’s mouth twisted into a grimace, making him look nauseated. “We should all maintain some professionalism in here, this is a serious operation.”

“They are young, Liam.” Killian shrugged, pointing at Henry with a twenty to show his support. “Especially Henry and LJ. Let them live a little.” He turned to face his brother and gave him a once over from head to toe. “Speaking of living a little, did you have a nice night?”

The tips of Liam’s ears turned pink and he shuffled his feet. “It’s not what you think.”

Killian gritted his teeth. “Please Liam, don’t insult my intelligence.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “As long as you promise me that you can handle it.”

“I can handle it,” Liam said quickly and Killian really wanted to believe his brother, but he wasn’t sure anymore.

Their conversation in a stale point, they both turned their attention at the scene in front of them. Henry closed his eyes, took a deep breath and positioned himself in a dead squat. From there he leapt, gracefully and hands first, from the cart to a ledge in one of the walls of the vault. Sitting there, he turned around and flipped off LJ. “Drinks on you tonight, loverboy.”

The rest of the crew clapped and boomed, with Nemo congratulating them all on a job well done.

“This is all well and good, but I’m sorry to say that we are fucked.”

Everyone turned to find Milah standing there, hair a mess, her blouse misbuttoned, and mascara running down her cheeks. There was decidedly no spring in her step and her face made it clear that whomever she picked up for the night hadn’t gotten the job done.

As if to confirm Killian’s assumption, she cocked an eyebrow. “And not in a good way.” She walked towards the nearest table, her high-heeled boots clicking against the tile floor and poured herself a drink. Tossing her head back, she finished off the drink in one go and poured herself another.

“Wow, Milah, slow down, it’s not even 10 am,” Killian cautioned, moving slowly towards her. He had a few choice barbs on the tip of his tongue, but though they had parted amicably and they were friendly with one another, there were certain lines a gentleman didn’t cross with someone he’d known in the biblical sense. This was one of those lines. He’d never made a comment on Milah’s hookups and he wasn’t going to start now, unless it meant problems for their operation. Taking one last step in her direction, he took the glass from her hand. “What are you talking about?”

She started to pace, speaking a mile a minute. “These idiots. It’s a universal truth that you can count on electricity companies to be the most inefficient people ever, but no… we had to hit the jackpot of the only capable ones! Who would have thought that they would do a fucking routine inspection and took notice of the fact that you can blow up their grid lines one by one like dominoes?”

There was silence as she continued to move back and forth across the room, until Nemo shot Smee a questioning look. “Do you understand what she’s talking about?”

“Some, it seems that we will be having troubles with the planned power blow up.”

“Exactly right, my friend,” Milah agreed, jabbing her finger at Smee, the open, loose sleeve of her chiffon blouse billowing around her elbow in added emphasis. “They figured out their weakness and now they are fixing it. Like I said, we’re fucked.”

Liam scrunched his face in confusion. “Wait, how do you know all of this?”

She spun and raised an eyebrow at Liam, leaving Killian feeling oddly grateful to not have that level of fury directed at him. “Where exactly do you think I was last night? Or any of the other nights?”

Liam’s cheeks flushed. “I just thought...”

She groaned in frustration. “Oh, for crying out loud! Just because you’re all terrible horn dogs doesn’t mean I am. I’ve been trailing some of the electricity engineers and technical operators. And yes, last night I actually had to sleep with one of them so I could hack into their work orders. Which is how I know about this entire thing.”

Every last person in the room had the grace to look sheepish, but none of them dared to speak up. It was Nemo who finally ventured to break the silence. “Milah, we-”

Milah waved him off. “Yeah, you can all apologize to me later, after we figure out what the hell we’re going to do if we still want to pull this job.”

Eric turned to look at Liam. “What about-”

But Ariel interrupted him, patting his hand and shaking her head. “Not enough time.”

And that was the crux of it. There was not enough time to do a bloody thing. Coming this close to the job, being able to taste it and feel it brush against their fingertips, only to have it ripped away at the very last minute. Killian wanted to smash the entire fake vault, anything to break the sense that it was standing there mocking him.

“Unless it’s a pinch.”

All eyes turned back to Milah, who was now perched over the edge of the table, nursing a third drink.

“A what now?” Henry asked.

Milah took a sip of her drink. “It’s like a heart attack for any broadband electrical circuitry.”

Killian glanced around the room, wondering if that made any bloody sense to anyone else. Given their blank expressions, he was going with nope. Sighing deeply, Milah looked at Smee. “Can you take this one? I’m knackered and I don’t have it in me.”

Smee smiled and cleared his throat. “A pinch is an electromagnetic pulse that can shut down any power source in its vicinity. Bombs do it, but it usually goes unnoticed because of the amount of destruction that usually follows.”

“So this pinch,” Nemo asked, taking charge of the scene in a way he only knew, “could take out the power of Vegas?” Milah nodded. “For how long?”

“About thirty seconds.”

Nemo’s face twisted. “That’ll do.”

“There. Is. Only. One. Little. Tiny. Problem,” Milah punctuated each word by swaying her glass back and forth before swallowing the remainder in one gulp. “There is only one pinch in the world big enough to do this, and it sure as shit ain’t here in Vegas.”

Cold sweat ran down Killian’s neck. “Please tell me it’s in a place that is currently going through a cold wave with snow storms and high winds.”

Milah gave him an apologetic smile. “California.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. “I’m not going.”

“Killian-” Liam started but Killian was not having it.

Pulling Liam to the side, he met his brother’s eyes. “Nope. Take LJ and Henry with you. Those two are going to be better at this than me. I’m going to stay here. Smee and I have to work on the final details of the plan anyway.” He left it unsaid that he was going to have Smee look into Emma’s past and figure out what it was she was looking for. But his brother didn’t need to know that. Not now. They were already working on two fronts, he didn’t need for anyone to know he was adding a third. He could handle this. Besides, it would be good for LJ and Liam to bond a little.

“You sure about LJ? He seems green,” Liam asked, his eyes shifting to where their brother was talking with Nemo and Henry.

If you spent more time talking with him than seducing your ex-wife, maybe you wouldn’t think that. Killian shook his head as he let the thought pass. “Liam, I trust him, and you should too. We brought him here to be part of the family, didn’t we? Then let him take part in it.”

“You’re right.” Liam stepped away and moved to gather Milah, LJ, Henry, Ariel and Eric, readying them to plan their next moves and set them into motion.

With their attention focused elsewhere, Killian knew it was the perfect time to put his own plan into motion. “Smee,” he called over his friend, “I need you to look into something for me.” He pulled his phone and showed Smee a picture of Emma and Gold.

Smee’s face turned pale and before he could say anything, Killian cut him off. “Aye, it’s her and she’s here working for Gold. She’s looking for something and I need to know what that is.”  He tried to hide the desperation in his voice but failed in the end, his voice cracking.

“I’ll look into it,” Smee vowed solemnly and Killian felt a lump form in his throat at his friend’s loyalty.

“Thank you, mate.”

Smee moved towards his data room, ready to work his magic and Killian turned around to assess the room. Liam and LJ were having a conversation and Killian left them, for once, to work their own relationship out. If nothing else came out of this, at least they could all be a family in the end. He spotted Henry at the side of the room, still assessing the vault and doing a slow-motion rehearsal of his moves.

“Henry! Listen, take care of yourself out there.” Killian placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “And take care of the others. You’ll be trapped between an obnoxious couple and a family feud, sorry about that. Just keep your head in the game. Someone other than Milah has to.”

Henry chuckled. “I will, Killian, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m not a kid.”

Killian’s heart grew two sizes in his chest. “Yes, you are. You can lie to those goody two shoes that had you at the circus, and you can even lie to yourself if you want, but you can’t lie to me, boy.” He gave the lad a reassuring smile. “The reasons for your secrets are your own and I’ll respect that, but you’re a part of us now, just as much as LJ is. We take care of our own.”

From the way Henry swallowed and how his eyes locked with Killian’s for a brief minute, his want to believe read clearly on his face. But as quickly as it came, his face shifted back to neutral, his hard armor sliding back into place. “I’m tougher than I look. I won’t break.” Yet again Killian cursed every single foster parent that had beaten the sense of love and family out of this kid. But, he reminded himself, one thing at the time.

“I know.” He patted Henry’s cheek. “Still, be careful, lad.”

He watched Henry leave and decided he’d had enough emotions for the day. It wasn’t even noon. He needed a drink. He was pouring himself a healthy dose of rum when he heard Milah’s voice call from behind him.

“Killian Jones, the overprotective brother. I thought that was Liam’s role.”

He took a sip of his drink, enjoying the slide of the liquid fire down his throat. “It seems I’ve taken a page from his book.”

He passed the drink to her and she took a sip. “Do I get the “you’re family to me” speech too?”

Killian’s eyes softened, his muscles sore from too many nights with little sleep. “You know you are. You wouldn’t be here with us if we didn’t feel like family to you too.” He reached for her hand. “Take care of them, Milah. Don’t let them do anything foolish.”

She gave him a small smile. “I’ll try. But with two Joneses in the mix, I can’t make any promises.”

[gretchensinister]

Operation Welcome Mat (preview)

I usually like to post a fic for my birthday, and well, this is a few days belated, but sometimes that’s how it goes. This is a preview of something I’m working on, now, and it’s a branching out of my usual fandom territory! I hope you’re curious, and I hope you enjoy!

It all stems from the question: Why does so much stuff that only Superman can deal with happen on the planet that Superman is on? That’s not the question that Lois Lane asks, but it’s the one she’s going to find an answer for.

Lois Lane always checks her spam folder. In fact, she always opens each individual message in there. Ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent of the time, what’s in there is garbage, but garbage is not synonymous with useless. Consider the journalists in Portland who went through the District Attorney’s garbage to make a point about privacy. Her daily ritual isn’t on that level of significance, but she feels the point still stands.

           Today, she opens an email that isn’t promising free trials of herbal supplements, contact info for hot singles in her area, or insurance policies that will cover damages caused by any and all anomalous events for as little as $10 a month. (These last annoyed her enough to ask Louise in Business to do a small expose on such companies—turns out, the fine print stated that given the regularity of attacks on Metropolis by aliens, robots, metahumans, etc., etc., these events could not be considered anomalous. Fucking scammers. She’s pretty sure they’re involved in a class-action lawsuit right now.)

           Instead, it reads thus:

           I am sending this to you because I think you are the only person in the world who might have adequate protection after I tell you this. It is for my safety and yours that I have not used your name or described what that protection might be.

           I ask you to use any and all resources you have at your disposal to investigate Operation Welcome Mat. I cannot tell you much more without compromising the slight chance this communication has of reaching you. However, I do not exaggerate when I say that the revealing—anything more I dare not hope for—of this operation will affect every human life on Earth.

           Sincerely,

                       One who works in the organization that knows you always check your spam folder

           The remaining message is a long and rambling series of testimonials for anti-aging and potency supplements, but Lois sees no reason to consider these as marks against the authenticity of the original message. Camouflage is important. As is covering one’s tracks. She opens her desk drawer and retrieves a high-quality digital camera that’s nevertheless old enough that it needs an actual physical cord to transfer the pictures on it to any computer. Lois has kept it in excellent condition, save for, oh, the pesky matter of the fact that the delete function doesn’t work on the camera itself, and that she just can never find the right kind of removable memory cards. Darn, what a problem! Fortunately the camera contains a 5000-image capacity non-removable internal memory. She takes a picture of the relevant portion of the email—well, ten pictures—and then sets about blocking every IP address that’s sent her something that ended up in her spam folder today and deleting every email indiscriminately. She’d like to perform a more thorough delete, but she never does that with any of her spam, and she’s got a feeling that now would not be a good day to start.

           Amateurs might worry about how she deleted the original email, but Lois knows that if she finds anything, she won’t need that email, and for another thing, the writer of that email most certainly doesn’t want anyone to be able to analyze their word choices and phrasing.

           She rests her arms on her desk and starts letting her mind work through everything the email told her. So, she’s the only person who “might have adequate protection” after learning about Operation Welcome Mat? The only unique protection she’s had under any circumstances is Superman. In a few well-known incidents, he’d appeared to give preference to getting her to safety before others. Lois isn’t one hundred percent sure that’s true, as she knows very well that she might’ve been the person in the greatest danger during each incident. Over her career, she’s tended to disregard danger for the sake of the story. And she can argue persuasively that in order to be a successful female journalist, she has to be prepared to face a certain amount of danger; she can argue that her years of experience have given her the ability to accurately evaluate the potential danger of a situation. These arguments have been, and are, vital to her public persona.

           But under a few layers of “I have to do this” is the chewy center of “I want to do this.” It’s true! Believe it or not, Lois Lane, Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist, is a bit of a thrill-seeker!

           Good thing that might be exactly what her email contact needs.

           So. Back to the email. Back to Superman. She knows well enough that she doesn’t have a raven-haired alien angel at her beck and call, but, based on what the public has seen, is it more likely that she does than any other investigative journalist? Yes. So, if only Superman can offer her adequate protection, then—

           “Hi Lois,” Clark says, setting a paper cup on her desk. “Two sugars, no milk—” He breaks off into an almost cartoonishly exaggerated yawn that Lois nevertheless is familiar enough with to know is genuine.

           “You ought to buy some coffee for yourself,” Lois says, digging a few dollars out of her wallet and tossing them at him, which he barely catches. “I mean, if you’re going to volunteer to walk down to Reeve’s every day, anyway. And didn’t you grow up waking up at 4am to milk cows or whatever?”

           Clark smiles shyly. Like he always does. It’s a good smile, and on a kid who’s six foot three and probably better built than any of the barns he ever helped raise, it could very well explain why he always seems so exhausted in the morning. Though if Lois’ theory is true, she hasn’t seen or heard any other evidence of it. A gentleman never tells, Lois thinks idly.

           “I can and have milked cows in my sleep,” he says. “I can’t do anything in my sleep, here.” He looks down. “Uh, the truth is that I haven’t been sleeping well since the—what did they call it? The Chirauga Incident?”

           Lois grimaces. Yeah, Clark and half of Metropolis. Including her. When an army of aliens that big showed up all at once, there was no way to avoid some level of freaking out, special protection from Superman or not. “Yeah, the Chirauga Incident. Ugly sons of bitches, in my opinion. I killed one personally, you know.”

           Clark’s eyes widen in shock, and Lois grins. “What? I verified they weren’t bulletproof before going out to start, you know, researching my story.” But, because she is committed to the truth, even though Clark seems like he’ll believe anything she says, she has to add, “Well, okay. I’m pretty sure I mortally wounded it. Superman took care of it before I could find out for sure.” It had been clean. Heat vision through the Chirauga equivalent of the spinal cord. And Superman had turned to her with that red glow still shimmering in the back of his eyes. “Are you all right?” he’d asked, hovering a foot above the ground like it was nothing, looking at her like she was something. And she’d looked into the terrible weapon of his gaze and been stunned by the perfect surety that he’d never use it on a human being.

           And for all that, she’d never seen him look so alien.

           “Weren’t you watching? I had this one handled,” she’d said, with a rasp in her voice she hoped he’d attribute to the heavy dust and smoke in the air.

           “Well, in that case, I guess all I can do now is tell you to be careful out there,” he’d said.

           It would be nice if there was a discreet little jump cut in her memory right after that, but, unfortunately, Lois remembers with perfect clarity that she’d responded, “Sure thing, spaceboy,” like a complete and utter dumbass. But then Superman hadn’t laughed at her, no, he’d given her the smile and wink of an old-fashioned movie star before flying away to continue saving the world. She, on the other hand, had staggered off, feeling as emotionally churned-up as a teenager.

           The worst part about it, in her opinion, is that she knows very well that Superman has this effect on almost everyone who encounters him.

           “Ah, Superman,” Clark says, drawing her back to the present. His shocked expression has been replaced by the little smile she’s often seen him wear when talk of Superman comes up. She’s always thought there was something secretive about that smile, something notably different from the rest of his farm-boy guilelessness. (Though, she doesn’t quite believe he’s as transparent as he otherwise appears. And she doesn’t think that’s just her natural suspicion kicking in. For one thing, the Daily Planet is big, but not big enough that someone who was hired as a journalist could fall through the cracks and become nothing but a friendly coffee boy. She’s read some of his articles, the neighborhood news stuff he generally covers, and the writing is as solid as he is, with words chosen with care and sensitivity. There’s more to him than meets the eye, and if he ever decides to get ambitious, Lifestyle is in for a big surprise. For another thing, he’d moved to Metropolis during a metahuman surge, and that, frankly, was not what normies did, no matter how clueless they were.)

           The running undercurrent of what she knows about Clark and the smile that’s the one noticeable discordant note in the melody of the person she works with suddenly gel into a possible conclusion, one that Lois could’ve kicked herself for not even considering earlier.

           Talented kid moves from small-town Kansas, where he could’ve been a big fish in a tiny pond. And he doesn’t even move to a city in the same state or region, where he could have been a big fish in a medium-sized pond. Instead, he moves to Metropolis, where he won’t be a big fish at all, but where it’ll be a big project for anyone who knew him in Smallville to ever visit, or know anything about him he doesn’t want them to know. Metropolis, which, despite its dangers, still lives in the cultural mind as a place where the good kind of anything can happen. (Where Superman is often seen.) And when he’s here, he never, ever says anything about even going on a date with anyone, and mentions of Superman bring out that secretive smile. And he started off writing his articles with a clear awareness of issues that Lois has seen other straight white male coworkers fail to grok even after clear, baby-step-style explanations. And he’s never, ever tried to turn getting her coffee into something uncomfortable.

           So, possible conclusion: Clark is some flavor of queer, and still closeted/uncomfortable about it. But he can’t completely hide his crush on Superman because, well. Superman. And the kid has an honest face.

           Just goes to show, she thinks, how slow and unreliable gaydar can be, even if you are bi.

           But this does give her an idea on where to send him as she starts her initial investigation of this Project Welcome Mat. If it is big, bad business like it seems, Clark doesn’t need to get mixed up in it, even to the point of overhearing a phone call. And besides, it might help him accept himself, if he needs that.

           “You know what, Clark?” Lois says. “You need something to take your mind off shit like alien invasions.”

           Clark grimaces. “I don’t know if anything can.”

           “Yeah, it’s a toughie, but you’re a Metropolitan now,” Lois says, with more bravado than she feels. Some things you don’t get used to. But some of those things you have to at least pretend to get used to. “Get outside. Write your cat-up-a-tree article tomorrow. Do something completely out of the ordinary.” And then, as if she’s just thought of it, “Powtown Pride is going on today. Powtown’s a neighborhood. Pride’s something to write about. You could go there and see what you can see.”

           “Powtown?” Clark says, raising his eyebrows. “That’s the metahuman neighborhood. That’s…a bit more interesting than where Rowlands usually sends me.”

           Lois waves her hand. “Rita is seventy-eight and still thinks anything involving a metahuman is a front-pager. Perry can tell her otherwise when you bring back something nice.”

           “Well,” Clark says, warming to the idea, “there are a lot of misconceptions about Powtown that ought to be worn away by a reliable source like the Planet. I mean—there probably are. I don’t know, personally. But if everything written about Powtown was true, no one could live there. It’d be a smoking crater in the ground.”

           “So you see? Needs you,” Lois says. She smirks. “Be careful, though. They’ve got twinks down there that could rip you in half.”

           “Says someone who just told me about personally shooting a Chirauga,” Clark says. “No, no, I know—you had it handled. Anyway. Yeah, I will go.” He looks towards the windows and sighs. “After all, it’s a beautiful day to be outside.”

           Lois waves at him as he leaves, then glances towards the windows herself. It really is a beautiful June day, not too hot, vivid blue sky, puffy clouds slowly drifting by. Does Superman prefer days like this for flying? She wonders. Or would it not affect him at all? What would it be like to fly with Superman on a day like today—Lois sticks her tongue out in an exaggerated expression of disgust. She’s better than that! She has to be!

           Anyway, she’s got something new to investigate. Before Clark interrupted, she was thinking of what things out in the world only Superman could be adequate protection from. Well, aside from horrible things from space, that leaves a very short list that prominently features a house of a certain color and a building of a certain shape. And the name—Operation Welcome Mat—it has a very particular ring to it.

           But she’s still going to look into the rest of that short list. A direct assault isn’t the correct approach here, and besides, there might be connections, even if the person she’s going to call is officially blacklisted from government contracts.

           She scrolls to the contact in her phone for “Louis L’Amour,” and reaches out to someone who definitely isn’t a dead writer of Westerns.

Notes: I’ve decided to have Superman’s code against killing be specifically about humans/earthlings because for one thing, I don’t have to answer to Standards and Practices, and for another, I don’t feel like having every alien army be robots (which with sufficiently advanced AI doesn’t help anyway), and what do you want me to do, have Superman knock all the aliens out? If they’re going down long enough to be essentially counted out of the fight, they’re getting life-threatening brain injuries anyway. 

[mistrcssdracul]

Look who has returned home; it’s Guinevere ‘Gwen’ Bonny, a 46 old first mate on The Flying Dragon. She has been described as compassionate and tenacious. She has been tasked with watching over Lucille Blackwood.

//** hey so this is gwen and she is a very very very new character for me but i love her already so i hope you guys do too she’s gonna mother literally everyone on the island because she is just that kind of person anyway yeah here’s her intro

guinevere was born in a small town in the middle of england to a poor family, who worked five different jobs just to put food on the table for the hungry mouths that sat at it. gwen was one of three-- losing her eldest brother to illness before she could even understand what death was. her middle brother eventually broke ties with the bonny family, changing his last name and deciding to make his fortune by attempting to join the guard for the english royal family. gwen, however, stayed with her parents, working odd jobs to ease the financial strain as soon as she was able.

in such a small town it was well known that gwen’s family were direct descendants of the famous pirate anne bonny, and with piracy still running rampant, they were shunned whenever they stepped out in public. as a result, the bonny family became reclusive, never truly allowing guinevere to see the world for what it was.

being so sheltered in her younger years, when the family finally pooled enough money together to travel away from their hometown inland to a seaside village gwen experienced a good deal of her country in the span of a few hours. and once they had settled in a meagre cottage, she was actually allowed to explore-- but to tell anyone she met that her name was guinevere westwood; her parents had followed their son’s example and used a different last name so as to distance themselves from their ‘shameful’ heritage. still not yet a teen, gwen grew up in the village which sustained several pirate raids over the years, but the village was not profitable enough for it to become a regular occurrence. and it was there that the westwoods began to make enough money to live comfortably enough.

growing into a young girl of 17, always staring to the sea in hopes of learning more of their world, but eternally dutiful to her family, gwen decided that she would save pounds and pence here and there for a trip to one of the bigger cities-- portsmouth. it was nothing like london, she was sure, but it would be brighter and more fantastic than the rest the places she had been. on the day that she announced her trip to her parents, and her intent to find work enough to send money home, they were wary at first, but eventually allowed guinevere to take the risk.

with very little money and hopes of finding odd jobs to start, gwen soon found herself clearing bars for barely enough to cover rent on an apartment or to send money to her parents. the frustration fuelled her desire to find a better paying job, which just so happened to turn up at the right... or wrong, time.

it was a cold night a man visited one of the bars guinevere was working in, a smooth talker to say the least. his name was ernest, a charming man who complimented her every time she served him a new drink. the flattery worked, and soon enough she was conversing with him about her frustrations over finances, and not being able to experience the pleasures of life well past last call. it was then he made her an offer-- work for him, earn a comfortable salary and he would allow her to explore what life could be. just as last call was announce, ernest handed her a business card with her promise to call, he then exited the bar.

it was a couple of weeks later that gwen called the man, who arranged for her to meet him at his establishment. when she first stepped foot into the space, she was confused-- it looked like a regular house up front, but... where he led her, to the back, there were at least two dozen woman in revealing outfits. realising exactly what ernest had meant by a job. unfamiliar with anything to do with that sort of thing, he coerced her into becoming his newest party favour to show off to guests at his night club and brothel.

after some lessons, some teaching from the other girls, guinevere became a hit with ernest’s customers. the only problem, however, was that no matter how much money she earned, he would always remind her of the debt she owed him for giving her this opportunity-- with interest. after two months of working there, the night’s profit would go completely to ernest, as he now had her living in the house in front of the club. more and more excuses came up to take the money from her, and it took several months more to begin to dig herself out of the fraudulent debt he swore that gwen owed him.

it was when she was eighteen that a stranger showed interest in her while visiting the brothel, and he paid for a night with her. poor though he was, he had taken a liking to guinevere. unfortunately, it was a night that would change the course of both of their lives forever.

gwen was pregnant. she hadn’t a clue how it had happened, but the precautions had done nothing to prevent it, and now she was with child. the father came back several times in the interim, and she finally learned his name-- ryan abernathy. at first, she was too afraid to tell him-- it could only have been him, after all. most of her time at the club was spent performing dancing or stripping numbers.

eventually, gwen worked up the courage and admitted to the pregnancy. unlike what she had expected, ryan actually took an interest in the baby, and promised that he would help to look after both gwen and their child as best he could. when ernest found out, however, he was furious and demanded that the child be gotten rid of. but gwen, already several months along, refused, not only because she did not want to go through with such an act, but because she felt a bond with her child, no matter they hadn’t been born yet. sure enough, though, she fell into deeper debt as a sort of punishment for the accident.

as she worked her way through the trials of the pregnancy, ryan began to slip money to guinevere for appointments, bills, anything she might need to help throughout. and when the nine months ended, he was still there. with an agonising twelve hours in labour, gwen finally gave birth to a baby girl. and the moment she looked at her, she knew that her daughter’s name would be charlotte.

guinevere, though only nineteen, was over the moon about her child, and wanted to pour all of her efforts into giving charlotte the best chances in life. but she only had her for a few weeks. with ernest theats to kill her daughter with each passing day becoming more violent and no real way to care for a baby in the place she was essentially enslaved, she begged ryan to take charlotte-- to look after her and provide for her in a way that gwen could not, as he had a freedom she did not. still buried in ernest’s debt, it was undoubtedly impossible to raise a child.

the day that charlotte was taken away broke her heart, but ryan had promised gwen that she would be able to see their daughter again, that they would keep contact and when the time was right, guinevere would be able to reunite with her baby. that thought alone became her driving force, to work harder than before, to release herself from the clutches of ernest.

it took her five years of numb work, but eventually, guinevere had paid off every last penny that was demanded of her. free of those ties, she tried to reach out to charlotte’s father, but received no response. again and again and again she tried to talk to ryan-- each time, she received nothing in return. terrified at the thought of something having happened to both him and her daughter, gwen knew she had to take action; she had to go searching for charlotte herself.

it was by chance that a twenty four year old guinevere charmed her way onto a ship, which turned out to be full of pirates. but, unafraid, she declared that she would join their crew, and would take whatever job they would give her as long as she could travel. soon she became their errand girl, earning her place but never fall into such unfair debt. she began to rise through the ranks of the ship, becoming specialised in navigation, but their trips across europe only covered so much of the world, and there was so, so much more that gwen needed to scour for her daughter.

she hopped from ship to ship, using her experience and her charm to gain trust from the pirates. and as gwen settled into this new life, she had a faint memory of her true last name-- bonny. discarding her fake one, she embraced her ancestry and reclaimed the name. soon enough, she was almost nearly as brilliant a pirate as anne bonny herself. but she still had a goal to achieve. no matter how hopeless she felt, no matter that many told her that the search was in vain, no matter how many years passed, she never once gave up on the search for her daughter.

it was when she finally reached forty that she joined the crew of the flying dragon, exploring places she might never have seen if not for all that she had gone through. still, there was no hide nor hair of charlotte yet. she eventually earned her place as first mate aboard the ship and for her iron fist when it came to helping her captain lead, became rather infamous. on the contrary, gwen could be exceptionally gentle, and kind. but when a job was to be done, she always made sure her crew was working like a well-oiled machine. she had not lost her feminine wiles either, and always used them to her advantage when the time called for it.

with her goal always in her mind, she amassed a series of information about herself, her family, her history-- anything and everything that gwen wanted to tell charlotte --into a locked box, kept away from the rest of the crew, though it was no secret what it was for. all of them knew as good of a pirate as she was, all she truly wanted was to see her daughter again. she never kept her former job a secret, rather wearing it as a badge of pride, but was stubborn in her choice not to return to that line of work for fear of falling into another cage of debt.

despite leading with such dominance, though, guinevere was still as human as any other pirate, prone to all sorts of vices she had discovered through her work as a prostitute. cigarettes, drugs, alcohol... they all became terrible habits that gwen wanted to quit, but the pressure she placed upon herself to find charlotte always cut short any cessation of her drinking and smoking, even casual sex from time to time-- with effective protection, of course.

it wouldn’t be until four years into her time aboard the dragon that a rumour spread of a pirate called charlotte aboard one of the other tulach ships. dashed dreams suddenly ignited into a flame of excitement and hope like never before. filled with motivation, she immediately wanted to meet with the other crews to discover the truth. could it be her charlotte? there was no way to tell, no way to know-- and wouldn’t she be with her father? unless... she had been right, and a tragedy had occurred... perhaps ryan was no more. it seemed improbable that she would ever have the chance to quell her unbridled yearning to know-- until roman’s plan, that was. having commanded that the entirety of his fleet converge upon his island, guinevere barely hesitated in preparing herself for the voyage there and answering his call.

however, the reality is that the girl they spoke about could be any charlotte. there are surely thousands out there... millions, maybe. it could be a girl she does not know at all. gwen knows that she must try, must see for herself, must know. but, there’s only one way to discover the whether the girl is who she hopes she is... to meet her on the island, and pray that fate has truly brought her back to the daughter she has been chasing after for all these years.

some personality traits: compassionate, tenacious, authoritarian, charismatic, licentious, eloquent, dedicated, multifarious, maternal, generous, hard-working, domineering, innovative, sentimental, steadfast, demanding, powerful, seductive, fierce, intuitive, clever.

possible connections: past lovers, friends, allies, a confidante, new lovers, rivals, enemies, best friends, anything and everything. if you have an idea for a connection that guinevere might fit, just shoot me an im and we can sort out details!

[emathevampire]

uploading as a real photo post this time... and in somewhat better quality. Rough sketch of my plans for paintings for him, whether I get around to that or not has yet to be seen, but if I don’t at least there’s these!

The tragic tale of Amanthos Panideios as told by Tarot: his life, death, undeath, and ultimately his corruption into an Archfiend. Hopefully, I will earn him redemption and a true happy ending before his story is over... but have the meaning and such behind each of these under the cut.

The Lovers: Amanthos was at the middle of a polyamorous triad for roughly 500 years, the other two being Psamion (a dashing sailor who often visited his library on business for Kíhyué) and Arekos (a gifted necromancer who had been Amanthos’ best friend since they were children). Psamion seduced these two individually, and thought little of it until Arekos asked him how he managed to get Amanthos’ attention romantically, since he had been trying for centuries to no avail. Psamion simply laughed and told him to be blunt, as he knew Amanthos wanted a more committed, constant companion to fill the void Psamion left while he was away, but was afraid his feelings would not be reciprocated, or worse, that he would be made to choose between the two, so he kept to himself to avoid ruining his most valued friendship. Fortunately, the three of them came together to sort out that fear, and were quite happy together until fate called their foundation away.    It also represents how he was (and still is) a useless multiclassing bastard. He could never choose between one path or another, dabbled in a little bit of everything, and it held him back for a long time until that choice got made for him. He could have been so many things with an Intelligence score that high, a wizard, a death master, anything else, but instead chose to pursue monkhood, martial prowess, and more doctorate degrees than any sane being ever would, content to be a librarian for the rest of his days... but it was not meant to be. Eventually, he would be chosen to serve his god of knowledge in a way only he could... and it wasn’t a chance he could refuse.

Nine of Swords: The Ritual of Crucimigration. In order to travel the stars to receive the answers he asked of them, Amanthos would have to die. And it would be no ordinary death, either. He would need to be transformed into an undead. Ordinarily, unless the proper funeral rites are performed, his race of elves become ghosts bound to their corpses when they die, rapidly deteriorating mentally while their bodies rot away, and they cannot become undead any other way unless specially blessed by their gods with Lichdom, or unless they turn their backs on the gods entirely. A Lich would be too powerful to leave the universe, but a Necropolitan would be able to escape it. Their gods have no influence outside of their universal sphere, and if he were to leave it alive he would rapidly age and die as he turned into a normal elf and his soul would be lost. So, the only way the gods could continue to protect him outside their sphere would be to allow this ritual, simultaneously blessing him with what protection they can give, and cursing him to be forever banished from their afterlife.    The ritual required a Death Master to oversee it, and he begged his sister Nikiti to request the position, not wanting to be alone, needing someone he trusted to be there for him. She turned him down when he asked, as she couldn’t bear the thought of doing what had to be done to him, but the Ruby Knights selected her for the task anyway as she was the most skilled for the level required... and she could not refuse the demands of her order.    As per the ritual, Amanthos is affixed to a pole with cursed nails and subjected to grueling torture for 24 hours, before the last spike is driven through his heart. The physical pain pales before the spiritual agony of glimpsing Aetherius, feeling the precious release, Lady Death’s sweet embrace, and being dragged back into his corpse away from it all, watching the gates close to him forever before opening his eyes once more to the world he was destined to leave.

The Hermit: After leaving his home planet, it is difficult to calculate for certain how long he spent exploring the galaxy before he left, but it is somewhere between 100 and 200 years. Alone, with nothing but his books and his wits about him, and the faded, worn scraps of paper containing messages and memories from his loved ones. While he learns a great deal, ultimately he runs out of uninhabited planets and empty expanses of space, and decides to test his theories and explore the Black Hole.

The Devil: Going through the Black Hole was a bad fucking plan.    I kind of want to just leave it at that, because really, I feel like that’s the best summary I can give, but I’ll go into details anyway. Essentially, he got spit out into a different universe: the remains of a collapsed timeline where the Blood War spilled out onto all planes of existence, and it is Hell On Earth with Asmodeus and a replacement for Dispater as the last two Lords of the Nine standing against the endless tides of demons, doing everything in their power to keep the hordes at bay.    The Lord of Dis is simply a warforged doing his best to be a good person, despite the vile deeds he is contractually bound to commit. He created Sanctuary: a place on the second layer where those who weren’t evil in life have a chance to escape the horrors of the Blood War and live in peace for as long as they can, before ultimately their souls are harvested and condemned to Hell. There is, however, if enough people work together, a chance to escape once and for all: an ever-changing maze full of clockwork monsters, puzzles, and tests of mettle.    Amanthos, knowing none of this, but being trapped in this artificial paradise, knows he must escape it by any means necessary if he wants to return home. And escape he does: he rallies maze running parties, teams up with each gate’s party, and after a long year of hard work finally manages to unlock the way out. Only, as with all things Infernal, there is a catch.    Unit Two, as the Lord of Dis calls himself, wants to die. He thought he could help, fix things, make Hell better from the inside and fight the system, but Asmodeus tricked him into believing this could be done. He doesn’t have enough power to do it on his own, but if nine people kill him, Asmodeus is in a right mess without a council to do his bidding, and they might be able to succeed where he failed. It’s the only way to save the friends they had to leave behind in Sanctuary, and the only way to have a hope at finally ending the Blood War once and for all, which is what Asmodeus has been trying to do all along... by making Hell On Earth, ruling the material plane with an iron fist, he can simply take all the souls and make fiendish evil the law of the land. So, Two offers the group a choice: take his private spaceship and flee this hellish world while they still can, or take the scroll that makes him mortal and end his torment.    The group promises to come back for him, taking both the scroll and the spaceship, and adventures in search of things they might be able to use to win the fight, as naturally they were all intimidated by the 30ft tall hunk of solid adamantine with godlike power. But no matter what they did, they were bound to return, as they could not justify condemning their friends to Hell... and eventually came back to fight with a few tricks up their sleeves.    The battle was hard-won, with many casualties, Amanthos among them. But when Asmodeus showed up to inspect the wreckage, the party demanded he be brought back to advocate on their behalf. The party was made an offer they could not refuse, the chance to end evil forever, if they had the guts to do what had to be done to end it... and thus Asmodeus walked free, and the world itself rewritten as Tetsu became the new Asmodeus, Belle became the new Dispater, and the rest took seats on the Council of Nine, steeling themselves for the damnation that awaited them as they would fight, by any and all means necessary, to end the cancer of the Abyss forever.

   Amanthos is, legally, chained to his position as an Archdevil. He can send avatars out into the world and even other worlds, but he himself must remain, doing all he can to resist temptation and stave off the inevitable corruption that awaits him. So, in truth, what returns to his homeworld is but an image of what he wishes he still were: undead, but uncorrupted, untouched by the knowledge that in truth he lost his soul, believing that he won. He only hopes that this avatar will return soon with someone who is truly capable of doing the job he must do in the interim, since truth be told, he really doesn’t have the stomach for it. He may not be a saint, and honestly, not even a good person... but by all the gods he loves so dearly, he could never be an evil one.

[singledarkshade]

Echoes

Part Nine

“Gideon.”

Rip moved towards her, barely noticing Cisco standing there grimacing, remembering the words the man on the message had said.

I chose to leave everything behind, including someone I cared for a great deal, to keep Jonas safe.

And he knew that she was who he’d left behind.

“Gideon,” he said again reaching the console, his hands drifting along it in a soft caress, “I knew this place was comfortable, I knew exactly what I was doing when I was fixing you and now I know why.”

“Captain?” she asked, annoyance filling her voice she demanded, “Mr Ramon, why is he here?”

Cisco grimaced, “He was our only chance to fix you. I tried, Jax tried but we needed Rip Hunter.”

“Gideon, I’m standing right here,” Rip stated slightly annoyed, “You can talk to me you know.”

“You should not be here,” Gideon reminded him, “Allow Mr Ramon to remove your memories once more so you can return to the life we made for you.”

Rip frowned, folding his arms across his chest in annoyance, “Not until I’ve finished repairs.”

“Michael,” Cisco said softly, “If you stay we won’t be able to remove your memories again. We might already be past the point of no return. And that was the point of you coming here in the first place.”

Letting out a soft breath Rip shook his head, “I know but what about the people who are missing? You’re saying that you want me to walk away and not help them? What about Detective West’s son? What about Wally?”

Rip paused for a moment as he realised that he’d never been told the boy’s name.

“Your priority must be Jonas,” Gideon argued.

“And it is,” Rip retorted, “But how can I look him in the eye knowing that I left people to die when I could have helped? And do not say I won’t remember,” he pre-empted her response, “Because part of me will always know.”

“My removal of your memories will be complete,” Gideon reminded him.

Rip shook his head, “Really? Because I called my dog Gideon.”

Silence filled the room for several minutes before Gideon spoke again, “And I am honoured by that.”

Rip let out a quick laugh before becoming serious again, “Gideon, Cisco, I am not going to let these people die if I can do something about it. I know I didn’t react very well when I found the message but I’m here now. So, can we get to work?”

“I’ll call Jax,” Cisco stated.

Gideon waited until Cisco had left the bridge leaving her alone with her Captain for the first time in what felt like forever. She had missed him, missed his presence, his energy and how he made her feel because it was only with him that she actually did.

“How are you, Rip?” Gideon asked softly.

Rip smiled, “We’re doing well, Gideon. I have a job I enjoy, I have good friends. Jonas is healthy and happy looking forward to going to school soon. I’m content in my life here.”

“Which is why you should return to it, Rip,” Gideon reminded him, “You are putting Jonas in danger by allowing anyone connected to the Legends know you are alive. Even if it is Mr Jefferson.”

He stroked the console once more, “I can’t. I can’t in good conscious abandon Sara and the team if I can do something.”

She almost reminded him they had abandoned him but didn’t because she knew his reply.

“I am unable to access where they are, Rip,” Gideon advised, “I do not know why.”

Rip frowned in thought soothing, “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.”

“I have missed you,” Gideon confessed, “Mr Ramon tells me what he can when we are in contact with Star Labs but it is not enough. It is not the same as having you with me or having Jonas onboard.”

Pulling out his phone Rip attached it to her systems so she could access it, “I missed you too. I don’t know if this will help but there are plenty of pictures and video clips of Jonas for you to see on the phone.”

He waited as Gideon went through each, several times smiling as he could feel the small vibrations of happiness.

“Once you have finished repairs, you will return to him,” Gideon stated.

Rip nodded, “I will.”

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

  Cisco grabbed one of the coffees Joe had picked up before heading back into the Waverider and back to work. Rip’s memories appeared to be back almost completely, or they were at least regarding the ship and Gideon.

He wondered how Gideon planned on removing his memories again when the ship was fixed.

“Okay,” Rip yelled, “Turn it off.”

Jax sighed from his spot at the pilot’s seat, “Still not working.”

Rip sighed, “No. Gideon what the hell were the team doing to my ship?”

“In what way, Captain?” Gideon asked.

“The Waverider’s not had a proper maintenance done in months,” Rip replied, “At the very least.”

Cisco grimaced at the annoyance in the older man’s voice.

“Who is caring for you, Gideon?” Rip demanded sharply, “Tell me.”

“Dr Palmer and Miss Tomaz share responsibility,” Gideon replied.

Cisco saw the same look of horror cross both Jax and Rip’s faces at this news.

“Ray and Zari?” Jax demanded, “Neither of them know how to fix the ship properly.”

“They are the only ones left within the team with any possible notion however,” Gideon reminded them. “Although on occasion the Time Bureau are allowed on board to perform some maintenance.”

Cisco saw guilt pass over both faces at her response.

“Once we save them,” Jax spoke up, “I’ll stick around and make sure the ship is in top condition before the team go back out again.”

“If we ever get her fixed,” Rip sighed.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Rip asked leaning against the wall of Star Labs just outside the Waverider.

“Don’t worry, Michael,” Katrina said, “He’ll be fine with us. We’ll stay in your apartment, so he is in his own bed if you prefer.”

Rip nodded, “Yes, that would be great. The book we’re reading is on top of the bookshelf, just one chapter though no matter how much he asks for another.”

“I know,” Katrina chuckled, “Make sure you get some sleep yourself, Michael. I know whatever you’re working on is important but so is your health.”

He winced, “I know.”

“I do not want to be called to the hospital again,” she told him sharply.

“I promise you I will get some sleep,” Rip replied, warmed by her concern, “There is someone here who will make sure of that. Trust me. Let me talk to Jonas.”

“Sure,” Katrina replied.

He heard her call to his son and the quick conversation between them before the happy voice came on, “Hi Daddy.”

“Hey,” Rip breathed smiling, he remembered that he’d lost his son once before and just hearing his voice made Rip feel better, “Are you okay staying with Katrina and Ali tonight while I work?”

Jonas let out a long sigh, “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my boy,” Rip said proudly, “Now I will call before you go to sleep, Katrina or Ali will read you your story tonight and I will see you tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Rip told him, “Be a good boy for Katrina and Ali. Give Katrina the phone back while you go and play. I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” Jonas replied.

Rip listened as Jonas passed the phone back to Katrina.

“He’s fine,” Katrina assured him, “Ali has taken Gideon out for her walk so you don’t have to worry about either of them.”

“I’ll call before Jonas has to go to bed,” Rip promised.

  Rip sat in the parlour waiting.

“This is something I never expected to see ever again,” the familiar voice came from behind him making Rip smile.

Standing he turned to greet Gideon who was waiting with a warm smile covering her face. Without a word Rip wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as Gideon hugged him tightly.

Pulling back Rip looked into her eyes, “I have missed you.”

“No more than I missed you, Rip,” she replied, stepping into him again her arms sliding around his waist as she rested her head against him again holding on tightly.

Sliding his hand up and down her back Rip murmured, “You’re not annoyed I called my dog Gideon?”

A soft giggle came from her, “Actually flattered. I’ve seen your puppy she is adorable.”

“I told you that you would stay with me always,” Rip replied.

They stayed in their embrace for several minutes finally parting and taking a seat on the couch that had appeared in the parlour for them.

“Are they treating you properly?” Rip asked concerned, holding onto Gideon’s hand.

She shrugged, “No different than how they always did.”

“All this time onboard and they still don’t understand how special you are,” Rip sighed in annoyance, “I’m sorry.”

“I believe I told you before that you never have to apologise for choosing Jonas,” Gideon smiled at him.

“I’m not sorry I chose Jonas,” Rip told her, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t find a way to bring you with us.”

Gideon shook her head sadly, “This form exists solely here in my matrix,” she reminded him, “It is only possible to be with you like this in your dreams, my dear Captain.”

Rip sighed, “Not a Captain anymore.”

“Always my Captain,” Gideon reminded him forcefully, “You know that. Miss Lance leads the team but you will always be my Captain. We are forever linked, Rip. Miss Lance will never have that connection with me.”

Closing his eyes Rip rested his forehead against hers, “I still wish I could have found a way to keep us together.”

Placing her hands on his cheeks again Gideon smiled, “I keep you here with me at all times, Rip. I hold onto you when they annoy me too much and you kept me in the form of a puppy.”

  Opening his eyes Rip sighed looking around the room unsure where he was for a moment.

“Gideon?”

“I’m here, Captain,” Gideon replied before advising, “You are onboard the Waverider. Mr Ramon has brought breakfast which I expect you to eat before you get back to work.”

Rip chuckled to himself.

“Have I amused you, Rip?” Gideon demanded.

“It’s just nice to hear you nag me again, Gideon,” Rip replied sitting up, “Are the showers working yet?”

“As long as it is quick,” Gideon replied, “And you don’t expect it to be warm for half the time.”

Rip shrugged, “Well I’ve had worse. Let Cisco know I’ll be up in about ten minutes.”

After having a, very, quick shower Rip dressed before heading up to the bridge finding Cisco already sitting with Gideon going over what still needed to be looked at.

“Good morning,” Rip greeted when Cisco looked up.

“Morning,” Cisco replied, “Tea and food for you.”

Rip grabbed the cup and took a long drink, “Excellent, thank you. Where is Jax?”

“He’s on his way,” Cisco told him, “I’m trying to find a way to locate the crew so that once we get the ship ready to fly we’ll be able to rescue them.”

Rip nodded in agreement.

“I’m still not sure why the ship returned here,” Cisco told him, “I guess it was luck.”

“Nope,” Rip replied, taking another drink, “She came here because I am. Gideon’s protocol in event of the systems being damaged so badly that without assistance there was no way to help her Captain was to return to the Vanishing Point for repairs. Since it no longer exists she came to the place where the one person who could help was.”

Cisco frowned, “But she knew you didn’t have your memories.”

Rip’s hand gently stroked the console, “It wasn’t a conscious decision, Cisco. Gideon’s connection to me brought her here. She came home for help.”

Part Ten

[wokeinmemphis-blog]

Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

Edouard Mendy joined Rennes after three seasons at French rivals Reims

New Chelsea keeper Edouard Mendy’s journey to the top has been far from easy – with a career that has brought consecutive relegations, several months of unemployment and injury.

The 28-year-old, who was born in the French city of Le Havre, began his career down the road at third-tier Cherbourg in 2011.

It would prove to be the first of many tests that would challenge Mendy’s determination and self-belief.

He joined the team as third-choice keeper but he took the chances offered to him as he slowly climbed up the pecking order.

“Every time he was called up to replace the number one, Edouard responded well on the pitch,” Ted Lavie, his former team-mate during the 2012-2013 season, tells BBC Sport Africa.

“He even joined the second team if needed. Myself and some other players fought to see him become the first choice.

“He was the best among our keepers and he was always involved, even as a bench guy.”

Unfortunately, Mendy’s third season with Cherbourg ended with the club being relegated. The only benefit was that he was offered a starting spot as the club played in the French fourth tier.

Things did not go to plan as the club were once again relegated – prompting the toughest period of Mendy’s life so far.

Empty promises and unemployment

At 22, his contract with Cherbourg had come to an end. He waited patiently for an agent to fulfil his promise to help Mendy move to an English League One club.

Mendy even rejected offers from lower-league clubs in France as he waited for a phone call.

It never came.

Instead, Mendy returned home to Le Havre without a job.

“He was trying to stay in shape: he jogged alone, went to the gym, trained with some local clubs. He never gave up,” Lavie recalls.

With no income at all, Mendy was forced to register with the Pole Emploi, France’s unemployment French agency, as he seriously considered his future in the game.

A change of fortune

Dominique Bernatowitcz saw the potential in Edouard Mendy and gave him a chance as a reserve keeper at Marseille

After a year without a club, Mendy was running out of hope. But his life changed completely in 2015 thanks to his old friend Lavie.

The former France youth international, who has DR Congo heritage, even calls himself “the starter” – the man who got Mendy’s career up and running again.

“I was speaking with one of my friends, Dominique Bernatowicz, in charge of the goalkeepers at Marseille’s academy, and he was looking to fill a last spot,” Lavie says.

“I told him I used to play with one very good, tall, intelligent guy with a lot of room for progress. I added that he was trying to find any opportunity.”

Bernatowicz called the jobless goalkeeper. One chat was enough to convince him of Mendy’s motivation.

Mendy accepted the chance of a trial with the French giants, despite the fact it was only to become the fourth-choice goalkeeper. Even if he was accepted, he would only train with the first team – and play with the second team – sporadically.

“His trial was very good. He was raw but I quickly saw his qualities in his profile as he could stretch and dive easily,” recalls Bernatowicz, who described that week as ‘Mendy’s last chance’.

He convinced the club to offer Mendy a one-year amateur contract on minimum salary.

“Mendy was like a spare wheel, a filler,” Bernatowicz says. “For him, it was a challenge for eight or nine months where he just had to work hard.”

He used the opportunity to rebuild his career, while his pregnant girlfriend stayed back in Le Havre.

Mendy played just a handful of times for Marseille’s second team during that season. It was enough for him to be offered a two-year deal.

But would the keeper be satisfied with being a Marseille reserve? Other clubs were interested. Opportunities were coming Mendy’s way, thanks to an agent close to Bernatowicz.

“I didn’t decide for him – but I felt it would be useless to see him stay as a second or third keeper at Marseille,” he says.

Taking his chances

Edouard Mendy (left) and Cape Verde’s Danilson da Cruz helped Reims to promotion to the Ligue 1

Among the offers were lower-tier clubs looking for a first-choice keeper. But Mendy decided to challenge himself again by joining Reims, then in Ligue 2, as a back-up.

He got the opportunity to prove himself sooner than he expected.

“During the first game of the season, the coach had to put him in as the number one received a red card,” former Reims midfielder Danilson da Cruz, a Cape Verde international, tells BBC Sport.

“And that day, he performed really, really well.

“Even as a number two, he always had the mindset of a leader and was very vocal in the locker room. He is valuable in a squad because he knows how to speak at the right time.

“He did his best to push the number one. When he was called up, he happened to be one of the best on the team.”

At the start of the 2017-18 season, Mendy was made first-choice keeper as David Guion replaced Michel der Zakarian as the manager of Reims, who were still in Ligue 2.

It was the opportunity that Mendy needed. That season he and his defence kept clean sheets in 19 out of 38 league matches. Reims gained promotion to Ligue 1.

In that first top-flight season, he played every game for Reims and managed another 14 shutouts. His performances led to a move to Ligue 1 rivals Rennes last year.

Two international debuts

Edouard Mendy was Senegal’s first-choice goalkeeper at the 2019 Africa Cup of Nations until an injury ended his tournament

His exploits in France have also helped Mendy achieve his dream of playing for Senegal, where his parents are from.

“When we were playing for Cherbourg with plenty of African players, we were always joking about results of each other’s national teams and country,” Lavie recalls.

“I remember even at that time he dreamed of playing at an Africa Cup of Nations with Senegal.”

But Mendy’s route to playing for Senegal was unconventional – as he actually made his international debut for Guinea-Bissau, where he also has family.

“During his first season at Reims, he was called-up by Guinea-Bissau but it wasn’t a Fifa fixture, so he went there knowing that he still had the option to join Senegal later,” Da Cruz says.

“I think when the coach of Senegal heard about that, he realised it wouldn’t be a good idea to lose him.”

Mendy earned his first Senegal cap in November 2018 and soon established himself as their first-choice keeper.

However, it has not been plain sailing at international level for Mendy either.

He was part of the Teranga Lions squad for the 2019 Nations Cup in Egypt and played in their opening two games before a hand injury ruled him out of the rest of the tournament, which saw Senegal reach the final.

For Mendy, it was another obstacle to overcome. His ability to recover from setbacks has helped him to a position where he can now look forward to playing in the Premier League and the Champions League.

“We recently joked about that [playing in the Champions League] because I have always said it would be with Barcelona, never Chelsea,” Da Cruz laughs.

“Nevertheless, by playing this top-level games, I am confident he will soon be among the best goalkeepers in Europe.”

The article was originally published here! Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

[arcadeparade-blog1]

Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

Edouard Mendy joined Rennes after three seasons at French rivals Reims

New Chelsea keeper Edouard Mendy’s journey to the top has been far from easy – with a career that has brought consecutive relegations, several months of unemployment and injury.

The 28-year-old, who was born in the French city of Le Havre, began his career down the road at third-tier Cherbourg in 2011.

It would prove to be the first of many tests that would challenge Mendy’s determination and self-belief.

He joined the team as third-choice keeper but he took the chances offered to him as he slowly climbed up the pecking order.

“Every time he was called up to replace the number one, Edouard responded well on the pitch,” Ted Lavie, his former team-mate during the 2012-2013 season, tells BBC Sport Africa.

“He even joined the second team if needed. Myself and some other players fought to see him become the first choice.

“He was the best among our keepers and he was always involved, even as a bench guy.”

Unfortunately, Mendy’s third season with Cherbourg ended with the club being relegated. The only benefit was that he was offered a starting spot as the club played in the French fourth tier.

Things did not go to plan as the club were once again relegated – prompting the toughest period of Mendy’s life so far.

Empty promises and unemployment

At 22, his contract with Cherbourg had come to an end. He waited patiently for an agent to fulfil his promise to help Mendy move to an English League One club.

Mendy even rejected offers from lower-league clubs in France as he waited for a phone call.

It never came.

Instead, Mendy returned home to Le Havre without a job.

“He was trying to stay in shape: he jogged alone, went to the gym, trained with some local clubs. He never gave up,” Lavie recalls.

With no income at all, Mendy was forced to register with the Pole Emploi, France’s unemployment French agency, as he seriously considered his future in the game.

A change of fortune

Dominique Bernatowitcz saw the potential in Edouard Mendy and gave him a chance as a reserve keeper at Marseille

After a year without a club, Mendy was running out of hope. But his life changed completely in 2015 thanks to his old friend Lavie.

The former France youth international, who has DR Congo heritage, even calls himself “the starter” – the man who got Mendy’s career up and running again.

“I was speaking with one of my friends, Dominique Bernatowicz, in charge of the goalkeepers at Marseille’s academy, and he was looking to fill a last spot,” Lavie says.

“I told him I used to play with one very good, tall, intelligent guy with a lot of room for progress. I added that he was trying to find any opportunity.”

Bernatowicz called the jobless goalkeeper. One chat was enough to convince him of Mendy’s motivation.

Mendy accepted the chance of a trial with the French giants, despite the fact it was only to become the fourth-choice goalkeeper. Even if he was accepted, he would only train with the first team – and play with the second team – sporadically.

“His trial was very good. He was raw but I quickly saw his qualities in his profile as he could stretch and dive easily,” recalls Bernatowicz, who described that week as ‘Mendy’s last chance’.

He convinced the club to offer Mendy a one-year amateur contract on minimum salary.

“Mendy was like a spare wheel, a filler,” Bernatowicz says. “For him, it was a challenge for eight or nine months where he just had to work hard.”

He used the opportunity to rebuild his career, while his pregnant girlfriend stayed back in Le Havre.

Mendy played just a handful of times for Marseille’s second team during that season. It was enough for him to be offered a two-year deal.

But would the keeper be satisfied with being a Marseille reserve? Other clubs were interested. Opportunities were coming Mendy’s way, thanks to an agent close to Bernatowicz.

“I didn’t decide for him – but I felt it would be useless to see him stay as a second or third keeper at Marseille,” he says.

Taking his chances

Edouard Mendy (left) and Cape Verde’s Danilson da Cruz helped Reims to promotion to the Ligue 1

Among the offers were lower-tier clubs looking for a first-choice keeper. But Mendy decided to challenge himself again by joining Reims, then in Ligue 2, as a back-up.

He got the opportunity to prove himself sooner than he expected.

“During the first game of the season, the coach had to put him in as the number one received a red card,” former Reims midfielder Danilson da Cruz, a Cape Verde international, tells BBC Sport.

“And that day, he performed really, really well.

“Even as a number two, he always had the mindset of a leader and was very vocal in the locker room. He is valuable in a squad because he knows how to speak at the right time.

“He did his best to push the number one. When he was called up, he happened to be one of the best on the team.”

At the start of the 2017-18 season, Mendy was made first-choice keeper as David Guion replaced Michel der Zakarian as the manager of Reims, who were still in Ligue 2.

It was the opportunity that Mendy needed. That season he and his defence kept clean sheets in 19 out of 38 league matches. Reims gained promotion to Ligue 1.

In that first top-flight season, he played every game for Reims and managed another 14 shutouts. His performances led to a move to Ligue 1 rivals Rennes last year.

Two international debuts

Edouard Mendy was Senegal’s first-choice goalkeeper at the 2019 Africa Cup of Nations until an injury ended his tournament

His exploits in France have also helped Mendy achieve his dream of playing for Senegal, where his parents are from.

“When we were playing for Cherbourg with plenty of African players, we were always joking about results of each other’s national teams and country,” Lavie recalls.

“I remember even at that time he dreamed of playing at an Africa Cup of Nations with Senegal.”

But Mendy’s route to playing for Senegal was unconventional – as he actually made his international debut for Guinea-Bissau, where he also has family.

“During his first season at Reims, he was called-up by Guinea-Bissau but it wasn’t a Fifa fixture, so he went there knowing that he still had the option to join Senegal later,” Da Cruz says.

“I think when the coach of Senegal heard about that, he realised it wouldn’t be a good idea to lose him.”

Mendy earned his first Senegal cap in November 2018 and soon established himself as their first-choice keeper.

However, it has not been plain sailing at international level for Mendy either.

He was part of the Teranga Lions squad for the 2019 Nations Cup in Egypt and played in their opening two games before a hand injury ruled him out of the rest of the tournament, which saw Senegal reach the final.

For Mendy, it was another obstacle to overcome. His ability to recover from setbacks has helped him to a position where he can now look forward to playing in the Premier League and the Champions League.

“We recently joked about that [playing in the Champions League] because I have always said it would be with Barcelona, never Chelsea,” Da Cruz laughs.

“Nevertheless, by playing this top-level games, I am confident he will soon be among the best goalkeepers in Europe.”

The article was originally published here! Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

[redroses879-blog]

Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

Edouard Mendy joined Rennes after three seasons at French rivals Reims

New Chelsea keeper Edouard Mendy’s journey to the top has been far from easy – with a career that has brought consecutive relegations, several months of unemployment and injury.

The 28-year-old, who was born in the French city of Le Havre, began his career down the road at third-tier Cherbourg in 2011.

It would prove to be the first of many tests that would challenge Mendy’s determination and self-belief.

He joined the team as third-choice keeper but he took the chances offered to him as he slowly climbed up the pecking order.

“Every time he was called up to replace the number one, Edouard responded well on the pitch,” Ted Lavie, his former team-mate during the 2012-2013 season, tells BBC Sport Africa.

“He even joined the second team if needed. Myself and some other players fought to see him become the first choice.

“He was the best among our keepers and he was always involved, even as a bench guy.”

Unfortunately, Mendy’s third season with Cherbourg ended with the club being relegated. The only benefit was that he was offered a starting spot as the club played in the French fourth tier.

Things did not go to plan as the club were once again relegated – prompting the toughest period of Mendy’s life so far.

Empty promises and unemployment

At 22, his contract with Cherbourg had come to an end. He waited patiently for an agent to fulfil his promise to help Mendy move to an English League One club.

Mendy even rejected offers from lower-league clubs in France as he waited for a phone call.

It never came.

Instead, Mendy returned home to Le Havre without a job.

“He was trying to stay in shape: he jogged alone, went to the gym, trained with some local clubs. He never gave up,” Lavie recalls.

With no income at all, Mendy was forced to register with the Pole Emploi, France’s unemployment French agency, as he seriously considered his future in the game.

A change of fortune

Dominique Bernatowitcz saw the potential in Edouard Mendy and gave him a chance as a reserve keeper at Marseille

After a year without a club, Mendy was running out of hope. But his life changed completely in 2015 thanks to his old friend Lavie.

The former France youth international, who has DR Congo heritage, even calls himself “the starter” – the man who got Mendy’s career up and running again.

“I was speaking with one of my friends, Dominique Bernatowicz, in charge of the goalkeepers at Marseille’s academy, and he was looking to fill a last spot,” Lavie says.

“I told him I used to play with one very good, tall, intelligent guy with a lot of room for progress. I added that he was trying to find any opportunity.”

Bernatowicz called the jobless goalkeeper. One chat was enough to convince him of Mendy’s motivation.

Mendy accepted the chance of a trial with the French giants, despite the fact it was only to become the fourth-choice goalkeeper. Even if he was accepted, he would only train with the first team – and play with the second team – sporadically.

“His trial was very good. He was raw but I quickly saw his qualities in his profile as he could stretch and dive easily,” recalls Bernatowicz, who described that week as ‘Mendy’s last chance’.

He convinced the club to offer Mendy a one-year amateur contract on minimum salary.

“Mendy was like a spare wheel, a filler,” Bernatowicz says. “For him, it was a challenge for eight or nine months where he just had to work hard.”

He used the opportunity to rebuild his career, while his pregnant girlfriend stayed back in Le Havre.

Mendy played just a handful of times for Marseille’s second team during that season. It was enough for him to be offered a two-year deal.

But would the keeper be satisfied with being a Marseille reserve? Other clubs were interested. Opportunities were coming Mendy’s way, thanks to an agent close to Bernatowicz.

“I didn’t decide for him – but I felt it would be useless to see him stay as a second or third keeper at Marseille,” he says.

Taking his chances

Edouard Mendy (left) and Cape Verde’s Danilson da Cruz helped Reims to promotion to the Ligue 1

Among the offers were lower-tier clubs looking for a first-choice keeper. But Mendy decided to challenge himself again by joining Reims, then in Ligue 2, as a back-up.

He got the opportunity to prove himself sooner than he expected.

“During the first game of the season, the coach had to put him in as the number one received a red card,” former Reims midfielder Danilson da Cruz, a Cape Verde international, tells BBC Sport.

“And that day, he performed really, really well.

“Even as a number two, he always had the mindset of a leader and was very vocal in the locker room. He is valuable in a squad because he knows how to speak at the right time.

“He did his best to push the number one. When he was called up, he happened to be one of the best on the team.”

At the start of the 2017-18 season, Mendy was made first-choice keeper as David Guion replaced Michel der Zakarian as the manager of Reims, who were still in Ligue 2.

It was the opportunity that Mendy needed. That season he and his defence kept clean sheets in 19 out of 38 league matches. Reims gained promotion to Ligue 1.

In that first top-flight season, he played every game for Reims and managed another 14 shutouts. His performances led to a move to Ligue 1 rivals Rennes last year.

Two international debuts

Edouard Mendy was Senegal’s first-choice goalkeeper at the 2019 Africa Cup of Nations until an injury ended his tournament

His exploits in France have also helped Mendy achieve his dream of playing for Senegal, where his parents are from.

“When we were playing for Cherbourg with plenty of African players, we were always joking about results of each other’s national teams and country,” Lavie recalls.

“I remember even at that time he dreamed of playing at an Africa Cup of Nations with Senegal.”

But Mendy’s route to playing for Senegal was unconventional – as he actually made his international debut for Guinea-Bissau, where he also has family.

“During his first season at Reims, he was called-up by Guinea-Bissau but it wasn’t a Fifa fixture, so he went there knowing that he still had the option to join Senegal later,” Da Cruz says.

“I think when the coach of Senegal heard about that, he realised it wouldn’t be a good idea to lose him.”

Mendy earned his first Senegal cap in November 2018 and soon established himself as their first-choice keeper.

However, it has not been plain sailing at international level for Mendy either.

He was part of the Teranga Lions squad for the 2019 Nations Cup in Egypt and played in their opening two games before a hand injury ruled him out of the rest of the tournament, which saw Senegal reach the final.

For Mendy, it was another obstacle to overcome. His ability to recover from setbacks has helped him to a position where he can now look forward to playing in the Premier League and the Champions League.

“We recently joked about that [playing in the Champions League] because I have always said it would be with Barcelona, never Chelsea,” Da Cruz laughs.

“Nevertheless, by playing this top-level games, I am confident he will soon be among the best goalkeepers in Europe.”

The article was originally published here! Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

[asanusta-blog]

Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

Edouard Mendy joined Rennes after three seasons at French rivals Reims

New Chelsea keeper Edouard Mendy’s journey to the top has been far from easy – with a career that has brought consecutive relegations, several months of unemployment and injury.

The 28-year-old, who was born in the French city of Le Havre, began his career down the road at third-tier Cherbourg in 2011.

It would prove to be the first of many tests that would challenge Mendy’s determination and self-belief.

He joined the team as third-choice keeper but he took the chances offered to him as he slowly climbed up the pecking order.

“Every time he was called up to replace the number one, Edouard responded well on the pitch,” Ted Lavie, his former team-mate during the 2012-2013 season, tells BBC Sport Africa.

“He even joined the second team if needed. Myself and some other players fought to see him become the first choice.

“He was the best among our keepers and he was always involved, even as a bench guy.”

Unfortunately, Mendy’s third season with Cherbourg ended with the club being relegated. The only benefit was that he was offered a starting spot as the club played in the French fourth tier.

Things did not go to plan as the club were once again relegated – prompting the toughest period of Mendy’s life so far.

Empty promises and unemployment

At 22, his contract with Cherbourg had come to an end. He waited patiently for an agent to fulfil his promise to help Mendy move to an English League One club.

Mendy even rejected offers from lower-league clubs in France as he waited for a phone call.

It never came.

Instead, Mendy returned home to Le Havre without a job.

“He was trying to stay in shape: he jogged alone, went to the gym, trained with some local clubs. He never gave up,” Lavie recalls.

With no income at all, Mendy was forced to register with the Pole Emploi, France’s unemployment French agency, as he seriously considered his future in the game.

A change of fortune

Dominique Bernatowitcz saw the potential in Edouard Mendy and gave him a chance as a reserve keeper at Marseille

After a year without a club, Mendy was running out of hope. But his life changed completely in 2015 thanks to his old friend Lavie.

The former France youth international, who has DR Congo heritage, even calls himself “the starter” – the man who got Mendy’s career up and running again.

“I was speaking with one of my friends, Dominique Bernatowicz, in charge of the goalkeepers at Marseille’s academy, and he was looking to fill a last spot,” Lavie says.

“I told him I used to play with one very good, tall, intelligent guy with a lot of room for progress. I added that he was trying to find any opportunity.”

Bernatowicz called the jobless goalkeeper. One chat was enough to convince him of Mendy’s motivation.

Mendy accepted the chance of a trial with the French giants, despite the fact it was only to become the fourth-choice goalkeeper. Even if he was accepted, he would only train with the first team – and play with the second team – sporadically.

“His trial was very good. He was raw but I quickly saw his qualities in his profile as he could stretch and dive easily,” recalls Bernatowicz, who described that week as ‘Mendy’s last chance’.

He convinced the club to offer Mendy a one-year amateur contract on minimum salary.

“Mendy was like a spare wheel, a filler,” Bernatowicz says. “For him, it was a challenge for eight or nine months where he just had to work hard.”

He used the opportunity to rebuild his career, while his pregnant girlfriend stayed back in Le Havre.

Mendy played just a handful of times for Marseille’s second team during that season. It was enough for him to be offered a two-year deal.

But would the keeper be satisfied with being a Marseille reserve? Other clubs were interested. Opportunities were coming Mendy’s way, thanks to an agent close to Bernatowicz.

“I didn’t decide for him – but I felt it would be useless to see him stay as a second or third keeper at Marseille,” he says.

Taking his chances

Edouard Mendy (left) and Cape Verde’s Danilson da Cruz helped Reims to promotion to the Ligue 1

Among the offers were lower-tier clubs looking for a first-choice keeper. But Mendy decided to challenge himself again by joining Reims, then in Ligue 2, as a back-up.

He got the opportunity to prove himself sooner than he expected.

“During the first game of the season, the coach had to put him in as the number one received a red card,” former Reims midfielder Danilson da Cruz, a Cape Verde international, tells BBC Sport.

“And that day, he performed really, really well.

“Even as a number two, he always had the mindset of a leader and was very vocal in the locker room. He is valuable in a squad because he knows how to speak at the right time.

“He did his best to push the number one. When he was called up, he happened to be one of the best on the team.”

At the start of the 2017-18 season, Mendy was made first-choice keeper as David Guion replaced Michel der Zakarian as the manager of Reims, who were still in Ligue 2.

It was the opportunity that Mendy needed. That season he and his defence kept clean sheets in 19 out of 38 league matches. Reims gained promotion to Ligue 1.

In that first top-flight season, he played every game for Reims and managed another 14 shutouts. His performances led to a move to Ligue 1 rivals Rennes last year.

Two international debuts

Edouard Mendy was Senegal’s first-choice goalkeeper at the 2019 Africa Cup of Nations until an injury ended his tournament

His exploits in France have also helped Mendy achieve his dream of playing for Senegal, where his parents are from.

“When we were playing for Cherbourg with plenty of African players, we were always joking about results of each other’s national teams and country,” Lavie recalls.

“I remember even at that time he dreamed of playing at an Africa Cup of Nations with Senegal.”

But Mendy’s route to playing for Senegal was unconventional – as he actually made his international debut for Guinea-Bissau, where he also has family.

“During his first season at Reims, he was called-up by Guinea-Bissau but it wasn’t a Fifa fixture, so he went there knowing that he still had the option to join Senegal later,” Da Cruz says.

“I think when the coach of Senegal heard about that, he realised it wouldn’t be a good idea to lose him.”

Mendy earned his first Senegal cap in November 2018 and soon established himself as their first-choice keeper.

However, it has not been plain sailing at international level for Mendy either.

He was part of the Teranga Lions squad for the 2019 Nations Cup in Egypt and played in their opening two games before a hand injury ruled him out of the rest of the tournament, which saw Senegal reach the final.

For Mendy, it was another obstacle to overcome. His ability to recover from setbacks has helped him to a position where he can now look forward to playing in the Premier League and the Champions League.

“We recently joked about that [playing in the Champions League] because I have always said it would be with Barcelona, never Chelsea,” Da Cruz laughs.

“Nevertheless, by playing this top-level games, I am confident he will soon be among the best goalkeepers in Europe.”

The article was originally published here! Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

[pooki-chu-blog]

Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea

Edouard Mendy joined Rennes after three seasons at French rivals Reims

New Chelsea keeper Edouard Mendy’s journey to the top has been far from easy – with a career that has brought consecutive relegations, several months of unemployment and injury.

The 28-year-old, who was born in the French city of Le Havre, began his career down the road at third-tier Cherbourg in 2011.

It would prove to be the first of many tests that would challenge Mendy’s determination and self-belief.

He joined the team as third-choice keeper but he took the chances offered to him as he slowly climbed up the pecking order.

“Every time he was called up to replace the number one, Edouard responded well on the pitch,” Ted Lavie, his former team-mate during the 2012-2013 season, tells BBC Sport Africa.

“He even joined the second team if needed. Myself and some other players fought to see him become the first choice.

“He was the best among our keepers and he was always involved, even as a bench guy.”

Unfortunately, Mendy’s third season with Cherbourg ended with the club being relegated. The only benefit was that he was offered a starting spot as the club played in the French fourth tier.

Things did not go to plan as the club were once again relegated – prompting the toughest period of Mendy’s life so far.

Empty promises and unemployment

At 22, his contract with Cherbourg had come to an end. He waited patiently for an agent to fulfil his promise to help Mendy move to an English League One club.

Mendy even rejected offers from lower-league clubs in France as he waited for a phone call.

It never came.

Instead, Mendy returned home to Le Havre without a job.

“He was trying to stay in shape: he jogged alone, went to the gym, trained with some local clubs. He never gave up,” Lavie recalls.

With no income at all, Mendy was forced to register with the Pole Emploi, France’s unemployment French agency, as he seriously considered his future in the game.

A change of fortune

Dominique Bernatowitcz saw the potential in Edouard Mendy and gave him a chance as a reserve keeper at Marseille

After a year without a club, Mendy was running out of hope. But his life changed completely in 2015 thanks to his old friend Lavie.

The former France youth international, who has DR Congo heritage, even calls himself “the starter” – the man who got Mendy’s career up and running again.

“I was speaking with one of my friends, Dominique Bernatowicz, in charge of the goalkeepers at Marseille’s academy, and he was looking to fill a last spot,” Lavie says.

“I told him I used to play with one very good, tall, intelligent guy with a lot of room for progress. I added that he was trying to find any opportunity.”

Bernatowicz called the jobless goalkeeper. One chat was enough to convince him of Mendy’s motivation.

Mendy accepted the chance of a trial with the French giants, despite the fact it was only to become the fourth-choice goalkeeper. Even if he was accepted, he would only train with the first team – and play with the second team – sporadically.

“His trial was very good. He was raw but I quickly saw his qualities in his profile as he could stretch and dive easily,” recalls Bernatowicz, who described that week as ‘Mendy’s last chance’.

He convinced the club to offer Mendy a one-year amateur contract on minimum salary.

“Mendy was like a spare wheel, a filler,” Bernatowicz says. “For him, it was a challenge for eight or nine months where he just had to work hard.”

He used the opportunity to rebuild his career, while his pregnant girlfriend stayed back in Le Havre.

Mendy played just a handful of times for Marseille’s second team during that season. It was enough for him to be offered a two-year deal.

But would the keeper be satisfied with being a Marseille reserve? Other clubs were interested. Opportunities were coming Mendy’s way, thanks to an agent close to Bernatowicz.

“I didn’t decide for him – but I felt it would be useless to see him stay as a second or third keeper at Marseille,” he says.

Taking his chances

Edouard Mendy (left) and Cape Verde’s Danilson da Cruz helped Reims to promotion to the Ligue 1

Among the offers were lower-tier clubs looking for a first-choice keeper. But Mendy decided to challenge himself again by joining Reims, then in Ligue 2, as a back-up.

He got the opportunity to prove himself sooner than he expected.

“During the first game of the season, the coach had to put him in as the number one received a red card,” former Reims midfielder Danilson da Cruz, a Cape Verde international, tells BBC Sport.

“And that day, he performed really, really well.

“Even as a number two, he always had the mindset of a leader and was very vocal in the locker room. He is valuable in a squad because he knows how to speak at the right time.

“He did his best to push the number one. When he was called up, he happened to be one of the best on the team.”

At the start of the 2017-18 season, Mendy was made first-choice keeper as David Guion replaced Michel der Zakarian as the manager of Reims, who were still in Ligue 2.

It was the opportunity that Mendy needed. That season he and his defence kept clean sheets in 19 out of 38 league matches. Reims gained promotion to Ligue 1.

In that first top-flight season, he played every game for Reims and managed another 14 shutouts. His performances led to a move to Ligue 1 rivals Rennes last year.

Two international debuts

Edouard Mendy was Senegal’s first-choice goalkeeper at the 2019 Africa Cup of Nations until an injury ended his tournament

His exploits in France have also helped Mendy achieve his dream of playing for Senegal, where his parents are from.

“When we were playing for Cherbourg with plenty of African players, we were always joking about results of each other’s national teams and country,” Lavie recalls.

“I remember even at that time he dreamed of playing at an Africa Cup of Nations with Senegal.”

But Mendy’s route to playing for Senegal was unconventional – as he actually made his international debut for Guinea-Bissau, where he also has family.

“During his first season at Reims, he was called-up by Guinea-Bissau but it wasn’t a Fifa fixture, so he went there knowing that he still had the option to join Senegal later,” Da Cruz says.

“I think when the coach of Senegal heard about that, he realised it wouldn’t be a good idea to lose him.”

Mendy earned his first Senegal cap in November 2018 and soon established himself as their first-choice keeper.

However, it has not been plain sailing at international level for Mendy either.

He was part of the Teranga Lions squad for the 2019 Nations Cup in Egypt and played in their opening two games before a hand injury ruled him out of the rest of the tournament, which saw Senegal reach the final.

For Mendy, it was another obstacle to overcome. His ability to recover from setbacks has helped him to a position where he can now look forward to playing in the Premier League and the Champions League.

“We recently joked about that [playing in the Champions League] because I have always said it would be with Barcelona, never Chelsea,” Da Cruz laughs.

“Nevertheless, by playing this top-level games, I am confident he will soon be among the best goalkeepers in Europe.”

The article was originally published here! Senegal’s Mendy: From being jobless to Chelsea