#he saw that motherfucker run on nothing but blood adrenaline and spite

[bruciemilf]

no church in the wild plays in Jason’s headphones at full volume when he's on patrol btw

[the-iceni-bitch]

An Early Christmas Gift

Pairing: Surprise (male protag) x Female Reader

Word Count: 5130

Warnings:  Explicit sexual content, explicit language, it’s porn y’all, 18+, SPOILERY CONTENT WARNINGS BELOW THE CUT! PLEASE BE MINDFUL!

A/N: Well ladies, school is slow, I’m off work, and I’m horny, so I have decided to bless you all with my second fic, also a submission in the 2020 Happy Hoeliday’s challenge hosted by the absolutely lovely @stargazingfangirl18​, @donutloverxo​, and @navybrat817​. I wanted to do something a little different with this one, where you don’t find out who your partner is until you get below the cut, like a fun little Christmas surprise. Due to the nature of this fic, there is some content that could be potentially upsetting that would also constitute potential spoilers, the the warnings for those are in the text itself. Please see further notes at the end of the fic and enjoy this little gift from me to you!

“Look honey, they’re perfect!” You exclaimed as you held up the tiny hat and booty set. “Gabi will love them!”

You hadn’t planned on doing any more Christmas shopping, but when your sister called as you were driving around the countryside surrounding Gruyeres to let you know she was pregnant, you knew you had to grab something from one of the adorable shops in the medieval Swiss town.

“Cadeau emballé s'il vous plaît.” You murmured to the shopkeeper as you handed over your payment, and within a few minutes you were walking out of the shop with a beautifully wrapped package, arm in arm with your partner. You were idly chatting about your plans for tomorrow (you’d have to be sure to get up early to ship your gift to Gabi) as you turned down an alleyway on the way back to your inn.

“Ah, fuck.” He murmured as you were halfway down the alley, and suddenly he had you pressed up against the wall with his mouth on yours. You dropped the bag containing your gift in surprise.

He pressed one palm against the small of your back to hold you flush against him while the other held his balance against the stone wall. One of his thighs moved in between your legs and started to edge your wool pencil skirt slowly upward. You got over the surprise quickly and brought your hands up to latch onto his hair as his tongue ran along your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.

~~~~~~~~WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE~~~~~~~~~~

You almost missed the stranger that came up behind him and pressed a gun to his head.

“Que faites-vous?” the man hissed at you. You noticed four more men, two at each end of the alley, starting to move closer and started to sob.

“Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?” You gasped through a steady stream of tears. Your partner’s hands were now raised in supplication as his jaw clenched in a look of frustration.

“Pourquoi me suivez-vous, eh?” The man had now turned his attention to you, since you were the only one saying anything.

“We, we weren’t…” You had now reverted to your native English as you started to sink down the wall, a blubbering mess.

The man stepped forward and trained his gun on you, shifting his balance as he moved.

You ducked under your partner’s arm as you loosened one of the knives sewn into your coat sleeve, caught the wrist of the hand holding the gun, and slashed down his brachial artery.

“Merde!” he shouted, stumbling backwards as blood rushed down his arm. You could hear the other men cursing under their breath as they started to rush you.

You flipped the blade you were holding into your palm, then flung it into the throat of the nearest assailant before shrugging out of your coat. August was already out of his and was pulling out the gun he had tucked into his waistband.

“They’re too close for that.” You told him as the last three closed in on you. Then you saw 2 more rushing into the alley and let out a sigh. “Damn.”

The newcomers started firing as you dove into a nook in the wall. August had his sights trained on them as he started to take his shots. The other three were on you in seconds.

You managed to dodge the first few punches as you drew two new knives from inside your boot. You caught a glancing blow to your ribs before kicking the culprit twice, once to the diaphragm, once to the face. You felt arms wrap around you from behind as you were lifted off the ground by the largest lackey. You started gasping as he began to squeeze the air out of your lungs.

You whipped your head back fast and felt a crunch as you connected with his nose. He dropped you to the ground with a hiss and you plunged a knife back and connected with flesh, earning yourself a momentary reprieve. You used the other knife to cut a slit up the thigh of your skirt to allow you to move more.

The gunfire had stopped at this point and you managed to catch a glimpse of August grappling with one of the gunmen before one of your assailants bowled into you. As he tried to flip you onto your back, you managed to take over the momentum and wrap your knee around his neck until you heard a snap.

You felt a sharp pain in your side as you straightened back up and were fairly sure you now had a broken rib. You turned to face your final attacker when you heard a choked off scream and a body flew into your field of vision, crashing into the man you were facing.

You turned to your left to see August pumping his fists as he strode after the man he had just thrown across the alleyway like a ragdoll. You squared up shoulder to shoulder as your two opponents did the same.

The final fight started with a crash. The two of you had vastly different fighting styles. You were all strategy, dodging most blows, planning your strikes for maximum damage. August was all brute force; he simply absorbed any body shots and knew that the size and force of his fists would cause damage no matter where they landed. The fight finally ended with your opponent with a knife through his eye, while August’s opponent’s head was almost ripped off with a broken neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END OF CONTENT WARNING~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Motherfucker,” you exclaimed, “they shot the baby gift!”

August was already dialing a sanitation team as you went over to inspect the damage. You may have been able to salvage it if someone hadn’t managed to bleed into the bullet hole in the packaging, soaking the beanie and booties.

Leaving the ruined present behind, you went to search the corpses for any useful information. You found one potentially salvageable cell phone (it was only covered in blood, not crushed) and nothing else.

“Shit”

“Sloane wants to talk to you,” August said, handing you his cell.

“Y/L/N, you wanna tell me what exactly the situation is there?”

“Did Walker not give you a run down?”

“His run downs tend to be minimal at best, this one was ‘lots of dead bodies in an alley, send a team.’”

You winced as you touched your ribs to assess the damage. “Yeah, that sounds like him. They made us and boxed us in. I have one cell I may be able to get something out of. Does rice work for absorbing blood or just water?”

You heard a snort over the line. “Take it back to your safe house and I’ll have an analyst pick it up tomorrow. Right now, you need to get out of there, we’re showing law enforcement heading to your location.”

“Alright. Hey, can you have that analyst pick up a replacement baby gift for me?” You asked as you held up a blood-soaked booty.

“Sure, they love when I give them errands.” You heard the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“We’re on our way back. I’m trashing our phones just in case.” You said as you walked through the alley, making sure to collect all the knives you had used and tucking them back into their designated sheathes.

“Good plan. The analyst will bring you replacements in the morning. Stay in your room at the inn and don’t leave under any circumstances.”

“You got it boss.” You placed the phone on a slightly raised cobblestone at an angle and brought your boot down on it hard, hearing it crack.

You did the same with the phone in your purse as August walked back over to you, carrying both of your coats.

“Hey Walker, what the fuck was that kiss?”

He winced at you. “I thought it would throw them off.”

“Uh-huh” you mumbled as you shrugged your coat back on. That may have explained why he kissed you, but definitely not the way he kissed you. “You’re bleeding”

“Yeah, one of them grazed me”

“Alright, I’ll stitch you up when we get back to the hotel. Put your coat over it for now”

He groaned when he stretched his arm through the sleeve of his coat, feeling the burning of the wound along his ribs now that his adrenaline was going down.

You hobbled back into your room at the inn after you managed to calm down the tiny innkeeper. You weren’t sure how you convinced her you had both just tripped as you were walking down a hill, but she seemed to buy it. She insisted on sending up a bundle of hot towels with you and a bucket of ice, which you thanked her for.

After locking the door behind you, you pulled out the first aid kit from under your bed and turned to your patient.

“I hope you’re not too attached to that sweater.”

“What?” August was slowly rolling his coat off his shoulders. He had rolled the sweater up around his elbows during the fight, exposing his well-muscled forearms.

“Even if I could get the blood out of it, I’m going to need to cut it off you.” You told him over your shoulder as you scrubbed your hands. “I don’t want to drag it over the wound and cause any more damage.”

“Alright.”

You drew the scissors out of the kit and held the sweater away from his torso as you began cutting up towards his neckline. He winced when the edge of your hand barely skimmed the wound.

“This sweater is ridiculously tight Walker; I’m doing my best.”

“You’re fine just get it over with.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I haven’t even started cleaning it and you’re already complaining. Do you want me to knock you out for a couple of stitches?”

“Do you have a sedative in that kit?”

“The kit is the sedative. One good ram against your skull should have you down for the count.”

He started laughing in spite of himself before groaning at the pain.

“If you don’t hold still, I really will knock you out.” You scolded him, pouring an iodine solution over the wound.

“Fuck, Y/L/N! Ah, that stings.”

“Here, bite down on this.” You folded up a towel and handed it to him. He shoved it in his mouth and clamped down as you ran a flame over the needle you would be using. He let out a grunt around it when you first inserted the needle but managed to settle in as you got to work.

Less than a minute later, you finished your beautiful blanket stitch and were about to start wrapping his torso when he stayed your hand.

“Leave it.”

“Suit yourself.” You said, standing up. You winced suddenly as you had forgotten about your own injury and it was now screaming at you. “Shit.” You hissed. “Help me out of my coat?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Pretty sure I have at least one broken rib.”

He stood up and helped you shrug out of your heavy coat. “Jesus, how many knives are in here?”

“Six?” you said as you did a mental tally. “No, seven. Two in each sleeve, two in the waist, one in between the shoulders.” You went to the bathroom mirror and untucked your blouse from your skirt, pulling up the edge to get a good look at your bruised torso.

“You really need to carry seven knives with you?”

“No. Those are just the ones sewn into the coat.” You put your shirt back down. “Good news, pretty sure I just have a bruised diaphragm. Hurts like a bitch but not a whole lot you can do about it.”

You turned around to head back to the bedroom when you bumped into August’s bare chest.

“Where do you keep the other knives?”

He was looking at you with what you had originally assumed were adrenaline blown eyes, but now recognized as the dilated pupils of lust. His blood must have still been up from the fight.

With your boots still on you were almost as tall as him, but he was a solid wall of muscle in front of you and while you could move him if you needed to, that wouldn’t be good for either of your injuries.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, looking him dead in the eye as you shifted your stance, ready to fight if you had to, but you thought you would have a better chance if you ran.

He let out a sigh and stepped back on his heels, allowing you to relax a bit.

“I think I misread this situation.”

“How exactly?”

“Listen,” he said, “there’s nothing like a good fuck after a fight and we’ve been partnered for almost six months now. I know we’re normally able to take care of ourselves but since we’re stuck in this room together with just the one bed, it would probably be less awkward if we just…”

“’You know we’re normally able to take care of ourselves?’ Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re not very quiet.” He said bluntly, which you honestly couldn’t deny so you just started laughing.

“No, that’s definitely true” You said. Standing there, looking at him leaning up against the wall with his naked torso that looked like it had been chiseled by Da Vinci after a particularly exquisite wet dream, you couldn’t even deny that often, the thought of him between your legs was enough to push over the edge in your post-fight sessions.

“Alright then let’s set some ground rules. Hard limits for me are going to be anything related to urine or feces. No real soft limits but if you want to do breath play you better know what you’re doing. My safe word is ‘balsam’. What about you?”

He was looking at you with his face in a state of total shock. “Umm, what?”

“What are your limits Walker? What won’t you do? What are you willing to do but aren’t crazy about?”

“No, no, I know what limits are. Same as yours, I guess my safe word can be ‘spruce’?” he almost made the second sentence a question. “You’re fine with this?”

“Should I not be fine with this? We’re both professionals, this is strictly so we’re able to sleep after…”

You didn’t have time to finish your thought as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around him. He pulled your head down to his and parted your lips with his tongue. You greeted it with yours as he lay you down on the bed and ripped your skirt the rest of the way off from the slit you made in it earlier, revealing a custom garter belt that held four more knives on each thigh. At the sight of that he laughed.

“Is that all of them?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him through your lashes. “Why don’t you get the rest of this off and find out?” You said, holding up one booted calf and rubbing it against his shoulder.

He growled at you as he ripped the boot off and ran his teeth against the arch of your foot, causing a quiver to run up your leg and ripple through your core. He removed the other boot next and pulled you down until you were straddling him, then he tore through the buttons on your blouse and yanked you up to roll it down your shoulders. Then he took a step back to take a good look at you.

“Sevent… seventeen knives, really?” He said, looking you over.

Aside from the eight knives around your thighs, you had two around each of your calves, four tucked into the waist portion of your special garter belt, and one between your breasts.

“Twenty-four total, along with the coat.” You grinned up at him. “This custom set cost me a pretty penny, so no tearing it off me like an animal.” You said, glancing over at your ruined skirt and blouse.

“I think I’ll let you remove all of that, for my own safety.”

You threw your head back and laughed, then stood up and started to unstrap yourself.

You started with your left leg, removing the small sheath belt on your calf, and placing it on your trunk, then removing the four knives from the thigh before unbuckling it. Then you moved onto your right leg, fully unstrapping everything there before undoing your garter belt completely at the waist. Finally, you undid your very special bra and placed that on top of the impressive pile, turning back to Walker in only your panties and stockings.

He was looking at you with a lust blown gaze and his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. You could see the outline of a very impressive hard on through his tight slacks and felt yourself clench around nothing as a rush of arousal soaked your panties.

“Fuck, Y/N. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you strode over, pulling him down for a quick kiss before sinking to your knees. “Low bar there bud, we’ll see if we can improve on that before the night’s out.” You said as you started to undo his belt.

“Um, starting already?”

You gave the outline of his cock a soft nip through his slacks and his hips twitch involuntarily as he took in a sharp intake of breath.

“I mean, I can draw this out if you really want, but I’m pretty sure we’re past the foreplay stage at this point.” You say, pulling down his slacks and boxer briefs to free his extremely impressive cock. It almost slaps you in the face as it bounces back up towards his abdomen. You make eye contact with him as you slowly drag your tongue along the base from root to tip.

“Shit, yeah, you’re right.” He lets out in a quick breath, tilting his head back and screwing his eyes shut.

You give him a wicked grin as you continue staring up through your lashes. Your tongue flicks around the tip a few times, lapping up the trickle of pre-cum that is forming before you slowly take the head of his cock in your mouth, humming around it as you do.

“Jesus, fuck.” He cries as his knees buckle and he lands on the bed with a huff. You slide forward on your knees to follow him and dip your hand between your legs to coat it in your own arousal, before gripping his length and sucking on first one velvety sack, then the other.

His breathing is becoming irregular as he stares at you through hooded eyes. You take his cock in your mouth again and he wraps your hair around his fist as you start to slowly move your head up and down, taking him in a little deeper each time. You feel his tip hit the back of your throat and start to breathe through your nose as you swallow around his cock.

“Shit,” he exclaims as he falls back and places a second hand on the back of your head as he starts to fuck his hips up into your mouth. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.”

His hips stutter as he tries to pull out, but you get your own hands under his hips to hold him in place. He lets out a low groan and you feel his release running hot snakes down your throat. You continue swallowing around his softening dick until your sure he has nothing left to give you, then you release him with a pop and wipe the drool from your chin.

You slowly kiss and lick your way up his torso, dipping your tongue into the ripples between his muscles and making low, humming noises as you do. His ragged breathing has started to even out as you reach his neck, running your teeth along his pulse point and nipping at his jaw before you place your mouth over his and flick your tongue along his bottom lip.

“Good for you, baby?” You ask against his lips, feeling the scratch of his stubble and moustache against your soft skin as you gently pull on his lips with your teeth.

You feel him grin against your mouth as answer before his tongue meets yours.

“Fucking great, your turn now.”

You only have a second to prepare as he wraps his hands around the outside of your thighs and yanks you up the bed with a yelp until your straddling his face. He buries his face against your silk covered mound and gives a sharp inhale before he starts kissing and softly biting at the skin of your inner thighs, his facial hair scratching at the sensitive skin.

“Take these things off.” He says, pulling at your panties with his teeth before letting them snap back into place as you let out a strangled gasp.

You somehow manage to remove them from the awkward position you’re in and as soon as they’re gone, August drags his tongue along your slit at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your brain short circuits and you have to brace both your hands against the headboard so you don’t collapse onto his face. He moves a hand up to palm your breast, working your pebbled nipple in between his fingers as his tongue circles your clit.

“God, honey, you taste amazing.” He murmured against you before shoving his tongue inside your cunt and making you scream. “You gonna cum all over my…”

You cut him off by grinding your pussy into his face. “Stop talking.” You hiss at him. You can feel your orgasm building and want relief as soon as possible.

You feel his smile against you as he starts fucking you with his mouth in earnest, wrapping his arms around your thighs before he starts sucking on your clit.

The sight of those forearms around your legs combined with the soft hums and moans he’s making against your skin send you teetering over the edge. You feel yourself clench around his tongue and let out a cry, your body tightening and releasing as wave after wave of pleasure wrack you.

When you had finally finished, August slowly rolled you over and softly kissed down your leg as he lowered you onto the pillows. You groaned and arched your back when he stopped, hating the loss of sensation. Your heart was still beating like crazy as you propped yourself up on your elbows to gaze at him.

His hair was damp with sweat as it tumbled into his eyes in loose curls. He raked his fingers back through it to push it out of his face, and you saw that his moustache and stubble were soaked with your slick as he licked his lips and stared at you. You let out a low moan and bit your lip as you felt desire pool at your core once more. You pulled his face down to yours and started cleaning the evidence of your orgasm from his facial hair with your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt him harden against you as he began rocking his hips, sliding his cock against your swollen clit and you let out a small whine.

“Ready again so soon sweetheart?” He murmured into your ear, nuzzling himself in the small hollow behind the hinge of your jaw. He slips one hand underneath you and presses you into him further, coating his cock in your arousal.

“Fuck.” You hiss. “Jesus, get inside me now.”

“Condom?”

“I’m on the pill.”

He smiles against your neck as his hips still and he lines himself up at your entrance. You let out a strangled cry as he slams into you, bottoming out immediately.

“Fuck, you’re so tight honey.” He growls into your neck as he stops moving completely.

After a few beats of stillness, you speak up.

“August, I kind of need you to move.”

“Yeah, just give me a second.” You feel his face screwed up against your neck as he holds you there. He’s trying not to come like a teenager two pumps into their first warm cunt. He pulls out of you halfway before slowly pushing back in, and your hands scramble on his back, begging him to pick up the pace as you flutter around him. He finally starts fucking into you at a steady rhythm as you take in a sharp breath.

As he starts to pick up the pace, he takes your left leg from around his waist and moves it so your ankle is propped on his shoulder. He places small bites along your ankle as he presses his thumb into the arch of your foot, causing you to clench around him and gasp, screwing your eyes closed as he edges you closer and closer. You feel his grin against your calf as his hand moves to your upper back and he pulls you up to mouth at your breast, rolling your hardened nipple between his tongue and teeth.

“August!” you let out a scream at the new position. The change in angles has him hitting your sweet spot over and over, and now he is slamming into you fast. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s right baby, scream for me.” He pulls you up flush against him and you wrap your arms around his neck so he can stabilize himself against the wall. The hand he isn’t using for balance slides in between you, using two fingers to work your clit as he fucks you harder and harder while kissing you deeply. The bed frame sounds like it’s about to fall apart as he fucks you into the headboard.

You cry into his mouth as the tension in your core snaps and you fly apart around him. Your cunt clenches and flutters as you feel yourself turn to jelly, sinking back onto the pillows as he continues to fuck into you at a punishing speed, a hand on each of your hips as he pulls you onto him over and over.

You feel yourself building again quickly as his cock starts to twitch inside you and your velvety walls constrict around him again. You don’t know if you can handle another orgasm at this point.

He looks down at you as his pace becomes irregular and gives you a wicked grin. “C’mon baby, give me one more.”

You let out a low moan as he presses a thumb to your overworked clit and you spasm up off the bed as your pleasure is released. You feel all the muscles in your core tremble from the strain, and your previously forgotten rib injury makes itself known.

August isn’t far behind you and you feel his hips stutter as his release coats your walls and he hisses your name through clenched teeth before collapsing on top of you and burying his face in your neck. You feel him starting to soften as he slides out of you and he rolls to the side breathing heavily. You lay next to each other for a few moments, waiting for your heart rates to slow down and breathing to regulate before you even try to move or talk. It’s been a while since either of you have been so thoroughly fucked, and you didn’t realize how much you needed it until this moment. You finally come down from your post-fuck high, and groan as you sit up and try to head to the bathroom, knees almost giving out once you stand up. Walker starts laughing behind you and you turn to throw a pillow at his head, which he catches in mid-air. Once your sea legs are back, you make your way to the bathroom for a post-fuck piss. You hear a muttered “Shit” from the bedroom, and the rattle of jostled furniture, and start cackling as you start to run the shower.

“God a shower will be great.” Walker says as he stumbles into view, still pretty obviously fuck-drunk.

“It’s a whore’s bath for you. I can’t believe your stitches stayed in place during all of that, there’s no way I’m letting you ruin them now.”

“You’re so fucking bossy, I oughta…”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought as there is a sudden pounding on the door. You both snap into alert stances as you toss a robe at him and wrap one around yourself quickly. He grabs his gun and takes up a stance behind the door, then gives you a nod once he’s ready, jaw clenched in preparation. You swing the door open to find Mdm. Eberle, the 80-year-old innkeeper, standing there with her even more ancient husband, holding what you can only assume was a previously decorative rifle from the 1700s that they had hauled down from above the fireplace.

“Madame Trellier,” she whimpers at you. “The room below you heard screaming and horrible noises and we… oh.” She trails off once she gets a good look at you.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror before you answered the door, and there was really no other way to describe your appearance than well fucked. Your hair was bunched up and mussed, your mascara was running, and there were love bites running down your neck and on to your chest. Not that the state of the room was any better. Your discarded clothes were still in plain view, and you now noticed a small crack running up the wall behind the headboard that definitely wasn’t there before.

Mssr. Eberle’s look abruptly change from a scowl to childish glee as he gave you a toothless grin while Mdm. Eberle covered her mouth with one hand as a flush crept up to her face.

You started to apologize profusely when Walker chose this moment to stride out from behind the door with a cocky grin on his face, wrap his hand around your waist, and give you a kiss on the neck before heading into the bathroom.

Poor Mdm. Eberle started spluttering while her husband started cackling, assuring you that there was no need to apologize as she started scurrying away. Mssr. Eberle gave you a lecherous wink before following her, and you closed the door behind them with a sigh.

“Stay out of that shower!” You scolded Walker as you headed into the bathroom, ready to get back to the States already so you could debrief and maybe actually be home for the holidays. You didn’t even notice the cellphone you had collected from your attackers was now on the bedside table, laying on top of an electromagnet.

   END

More A/N: Y’all, I had way too much fun with this one. I actually enjoyed writing the non-smut portion as much as the sweet, smutty goodness. I also think I maybe have a bad boy kink? Who knows, we’ll explore further.

Happy Hoelidays!

[eirian-houpe]

Disparate Pathways - Chapter 7

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle (Once Upon a Time), Maurice | Moe French, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Spinster(s) (Once Upon a Time: Think Lovely Thoughts), Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Blue Fairy | Mother Superior, Black Fairy (Once Upon a Time), Baelfire | Neal Cassidy, Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Colette (Once Upon a Time), Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Widow Lucas | Granny, Dove (Once Upon a Time), Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Wicked Witch of the West | Zelena

Additional Tags: Abusive Parents, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Violence, Gun Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, UST, First Time, Drama & Romance, Kidnapping, Extortion

Summary: Gold has a past, a past that he has rejected, but it seems one that will not let him go.  Belle, daughter of Governor Maurice French has been kidnapped, along with her mother, and just as the authorities raid the organization that is holding her hostage, decides to make her own bid for freedom, unknowingly derailing an undercover sting, and Agent Milnor has not choice but to take her into 'protective custody,' but is he all that he seems?  As the threads of the story grow more tangled and the threat to Belle, and to Gold, her appointed protector, grow ever more real, a growing, mutual attraction makes everything far more desperate and far too personal for Gold to ignore what he knows to be the truth.

Read on AO3

[Chapter 1]  [Chapter 2]  [Chapter 3]  [Chapter 4]  [Chapter 5]  [Chapter 6]

Chapter 7 - Come With Me

Fighting the tears of hysteria that threatened to start as his laughter ended, Jefferson reached the head of the stairs, trying to calm himself enough to follow his plan; the items he left hidden around the house, carefully, when others were inattentive or sleeping. His contingency.

He ducked into the bathroom where the linen closet hid the vest, spare handgun and a spare clips of\ ammunition. He slipped the vest on quickly, barely taking the time to fasten it. He had to find Missus French and her daughter, and fast. His every instinct was telling him that something was wrong - the way this had all gone down. Sure he’d been pissed at Rab for not fighting for him; not trying to delay the takedown, but his handler had never let him down after a promise of a heads up. Except now he had.

As the flash lit up the whole of the house, he started counting under his breath, keeping time with what he knew was standard procedure. This wasn’t standard. The explosive pounding of the ram followed too quickly after the percussive flash.

“Fuck!” he hissed. It was definitely wrong, and he knew - without a doubt - that he was on his own; that he couldn’t risk identifying himself to the incoming amalgam of law enforcers. No one would know him.

“Fuck!” he spat more vehemently, then was drawn from the near paralysis of wondering how the hell he was going to do this and get them both out safely by the sound of nearby gunfire, A single shot propelled him into action, and he made his way down the hallway, kicking in the first door he came on. Truly acting on instinct he raised his weapon and shot the room’s single occupant before the man could turn his own gun on him.

A quick glance told him that the women weren’t there and he hurried out of the room, along to the next - empty, though from the cloud of cigarette smoke in one corner, it hadn’t been for long. Gunfire sounded from below, and he guessed that everyone had headed down - good little soldiers for the cause - to stop the invasion of the feds, to give West and her top tier cronies the chance to get out. This was what he’d warned Rab about. This was what threatened to make the last ten years of his life a complete and total waste of time. The losses, and the sacrifice he’d made, all for nothing.

Another room, and another dead end. The women weren’t there either. What if West had them, had taken them with her as she escaped, was bringing them to Duneach where they’d suffer worse than anything they could have endured where they were? What if his need to equip himself meant he’d gone the wrong way at the head of the stairs?

Left only with the room at his end of the hall, Jefferson threw himself against the heavy wood, slamming it back against its hinges as he took in the room. The computer, open wall panel leading down to a stairway, the body of a woman on the floor.

“Oh, God damned motherfuck--!” he growled, his voice caught as he felt his eyes heating again. It didn’t take the spreading stain of blood around her to know that there was no way she was going to make it, even if he could get her help. He knelt beside her, reaching for her neck. She had a pulse, but it was weak, thready and already faltering. He went to pull his hand away, and started as the woman’s weak grasp latched on to his wrist and her eyes flickered open.

“I knew you weren’t…” she rasped, fighting for breath. “Somehow I… knew.”

“Collette,” he breathed, “I’m sorry, I can’t—”

She released his wrist and reached up to lay her fingertips against his lips, to stop him speaking as she took another labored breath. “Not… your…” she said weakly. Another breath and then, “Belle… she ran… but…”

“Sshh,” he said softly, “Don’t talk. Just…” He swallowed.

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “I know. Did this… for Belle… get away.” Jefferson closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening as the sense of failure washed over him. His eyes came open as Collette spoke again, “Help… her.”

He gave her a tight half smile.

“I promise,” he answered, not even knowing if he could keep that promise, but it was little enough that he could do. He’d try. Collette smiled up at him.

“Go,” she whispered, and closed her eyes. “Don’t wait… with me. Go.”

She gave him an ineffectual push, and he sat back on his heels for a moment, in spite of her words watching her breathing slow. Hitch. Stop.

With a half cry of impotence, rage smoldering inside of him …ten years. Ten fucking impossible years… he pushed to his feet, advancing with as much caution as his anger would allow toward the door. As he stepped through, his blood froze.

If it weren’t so serious, it would have been comical, like something out of a badly made martial arts movie. The tiny dot of a woman against the huge lummox of a man, attempting to hold her own, even after the back handed slap to the side of her face threw her against the wall of the landing. She didn’t stay down for long, pushing herself up, using the wall for leverage and dodging first left, then right in an attempt to get round him.

To Jefferson’s dismay, they were all the way at the other end of the landing.

He couldn’t risk a shot for the way they were dodging back and forth, couldn’t risk hitting the woman - hitting Belle. He was going to save her; was going to get her out of there, and take her somewhere safe until he could figure out what the fuck was going on.

Trying to keep his head, to keep his wits about him, he started to make his way along the landing. It wouldn’t do her any good if he got his cover blown, or got hurt, or worse, busted before he could reach her, so he couldn’t just charge in like a one-man Light Brigade. Even so he winced as he saw the knife that Gaston wielded - and he recognized that bull of a man - slash across Belle’s arm, blood flying across the hallway in droplets from the gash left in its wake.

“Hey!” Jefferson called out, raising his weapon again, and trying to sight the man even as he moved along toward where they were still struggling, to where Belle suddenly ran straight for Gaston. It might have worked too, bought her some measure of freedom, but for the reach of the ape’s arms, and he grabbed her as she dodged, and pinned her face down against the rail, seemed to be fumbling between the two of them.  Surely not…! He tried again, calling out, “Let her go,” but still wasn’t heard, probably because of the blood pounding through Gaston’s ears as it rushed south.

Jefferson felt caught in one of those nightmares, the ones where you find yourself running down a hallway that starts to stretch and elongate; that no matter how far you run, how fast, still you never reach the door at the end. He tried to reach Belle in time to save her from Gaston’s attentions, still not daring to take a shot. As wound up as he was in that moment, the way he could feel his own hands shaking around the grip of the handgun.

What happened next was almost too fast for him to truly comprehend what actually occurred. He watched as Belle thew back her head, clearly making contact with Gaston’s nose judging by the sudden rush of blood down over the man’s face as he roared and staggered backwards, and then he was lunging at her again, a little further along the rail, where she’d turned and tried to side-step to freedom, towards Jefferson, and he started to reach out, meaning to catch her outstretched arm and pull her behind him; to safety - take Gaston out with a well placed shot.

In reality, what happened drew a cry of horror from him that echoed Belle’s own scream as the railing broke beneath Gaston’s weight, and Belle fought to keep a hold of the broken end of the rail, her other arm flailing for balance, or opposite momentum or… something - anything to keep herself from falling.

Jefferson sprinted the rest of way, senses on overdrive, adrenaline pushing away everything but sheer concentration. Four armed bodies on the stairs. Three more yards to get within reach of Belle.  Barely ten steps beyond Belle to a solidly made dresser against the wall. Another six yards to the nearest door…

Belle’s arm came in an upswing as she started to lose her fight to keep herself from falling, he caught her wrist and pulled, reversing her motion just enough to be able to duck under her wheeling arm and wrap his own arm around her waist, not to hold her, but to throw her toward the dresser. The first of the shots rang out from the gunmen at the head of the stairs, no time to take in appearance - to see whether ‘friend’ or foe, Jefferson risked pushing off from the broken end of the railing to turn himself, took two wild shots to encourage the men to keep their heads down; to keep them from returning fire, before he threw himself at Belle, letting his wiry bulk push her around the corner of the dresser to shelter her against the wall. He pressed against her, intending to shelter her with the vest as much as he could until a lull in the gunfire told him the men were moving.

He straightened up then, enough to turn at least, lean around the dresser to snap off another couple of shots, even as his other hand tugged at the loosely fastened closures on the vest, shrugging off the garment. Even knowing she would drown in it, he snapped over his shoulder, “Put this on,” as he let it fall against her.  He had to give her time to do that. Had to trust himself, his aim. “Be ready to run,” he told her, a slightly insane twinkle in his eye as he stepped out from beside the dresser, fired one shot, and then another. Two more…

“What’s it gonna be, fellas?” he asked, the two men that were still standing and still armed, but staring at him with incredulity. He would have been the same - hell, he was. Amazed at the size of his own balls at simply stepping out against what had been four armed men in order to buy time for his… what was she to him?

That they didn’t immediately warn him who they were should have been a comfort to him. The right response to his question, if they’d been the law, should have been to identify themselves and warn him to surrender or risk being shot at, but he’d long since established that this was no ordinary takedown, so instead he shrugged slightly and glanced over his upraised arm at Belle.

“Ready, Spitfire?” he asked, and she both quirked an eyebrow, and swallowed in obvious fear both at the same time, but he could also see that she was getting paler; that the stain spreading on her shirt was getting bigger far faster than he would have liked. Did she get hit?  He saw her nod her readiness, get her feet under herself, then turned his attention back to the two remaining gunmen who had begun a cautious approach. He shifted his aim, and drilled a hole in the boards at their feet, stopping them in their tracks, and gave them a killer, if sarcastic smile.

“Sorry guys,” he said with a shrug. “Gotta run.” Then before they had time to react, he grasped Belle’s elbow, and took off at a run, dragging her along beside him to the nearest door, almost taking it off its hinges as he threw it open, took in the room’s vacant state, and pushed her through. Then he slammed the door shut and began to pull the heaviest piece of furniture that he could find across the door entrance.

When he was done, he turned to Belle, who had almost literally folded to the ground, her legs in a heap beneath her. He swore softly, and went over to the window, the one he knew had a faux patio about four to six feet beneath it. The ‘contingency plan’ he hadn’t wanted to take, and looked out. So far the back looked clear, if only they could reach the ground.

“You…” Belle’s voice was trembling as she spoke, “You’re… Jared… aren’t you?”

He looked at her for a long moment, contemplating just what he should tell her, and what he shouldn’t, at this point in the game. After another minute more, he shook his head, then unlocked and pushed open the window before turning back to her.

“Come with me,” he said, and moved over to her, holding out his hand and when she took it, pulled her as gently as he could to her feet, sliding his arm beneath hers to support her.

“Who are you?” she asked, leaning against him heavily. “Why are you doing this?”

“My name is Jefferson,” he told her, beginning to draw her toward the window. “And right now, we need to concentrate on getting you out of here.”