#he's not talking Rafa's retirement news well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

batsplat · 1 month ago

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hi bat<3 i feel like you’re definitely not a die-hard fan of the big 3, but for someone like me who’s been watching men’s tennis since the early 2010s, they’re like everything.

so i wanted to ask: out of the big 3 (or big 4?) pairings, which duo do you think is more interesting? like which one feels more worth exploring in your opinion?

i just watched roger’s docu recently, and omg he gave novak a solo moment. not like a story about them, just a montage of novak yelling and screaming on court. then roger went, “this might not reflect well on novak.” it lowkey gave me vale/jorge vibes, not a perfect parallel, but within the big3/big4, they’re the duo that feels the least… connected. and yet, when it comes to tactical and technical richness, they’re at the top. roger’s obviously way more arrogant than vale, like he just doesn’t see novak as special or even interesting. meanwhile, novak used to be that guy who wanted everyone to like him, but now he’s completely over it. over the years, there’s just been this constant low-key, non-vibe-y energy between them. but their matches? they somehow deliver these insane moments at the most unexpected times. at the laver cup, roger said something to novak, and then novak cried.

i’m less into roger/rafa, partly because i’m not a rafa fan, but also because they suddenly turned into this ideal rivalry narrative, and honestly, that kinda freaked me out. i’m slowly starting to understand the feelings between them, though. like, i still don’t buy into the whole “greatest rival” thing because, let’s be real, on both the competitive and career-defining levels, it’s just not that mutual. but yeah, their pairing definitely had its advantages—sorry for saying this, but it’s true. the 2008 wimb F is obviously historic, but if you actually watch it all the way through, it’s not that great. it’s the unpredictable weather that gave it that epic feel.

and then there’s andy/novak, who’ve always been my fave because of their history and the emotional layers in their rivalry. like, when viktor troicki recently said novak was looking for a “big name” coach, my friends and i joked about it being roger, but none of us thought of andy. and then it happened. i still can’t believe it. from my very limited tennis perspective, andy’s kinda feels like a subset of novak’s. i don’t really know what qualities do coaches even need in tennis, and how do they maximize a player’s potential? so i’m really curious to see what they come up with together. their dynamic peaked in 2016, which was also the only time the big4 rivalries genuinely made me sad. so yeah, they totally deserve this heartwarming closure.

okay so first off, I have to confess I get a failing grade as a hater because I read this ask reading ?? eating breakfast with this on

I dozed off to the 2019 wimbledon final last night so idk. this isn't nadal retirement-prompted nostalgia, I actually failed as a hater there too and completely missed his last match happening so like. arrived to dance on the grave a day late. BUT the djokovic/murray coaching news DID awaken something suppressed in me. I'll probably watch the 2012 uso final next just to feel something

anyway, what this does go to show is that for all that I am obviously extremely not a fan of the big three, as a tennis fan it's also not like I can pretend to be completely immune. I grew up watching them!! I remember watching so many of their matches! often with my family! I would argue about them all the time as a fan, whether with my family or people at the tennis club or indeed my maths teacher. I was always rooting for SOMEONE, like I did have an order of preference. and... uh, it should be mentioned that I am also not a complete neutral who just intellectually hated the big three because I thought they were shitty sources of narrative tension. I was a massive murray fan as a kid so I did also just get my heart repeatedly broken by them. we're talking 'cried during murray's speech at wimbledon 2012'... I actually watched the wimbledon 2013 final at the tennis club where I trained and was EXTREMELY smug (and delighted) when murray won because EVERYONE including my coach thought djokovic would win and had been extremely annoying in my direction throughout the experience. but also I have never enjoyed a men's australian open final in my life, except 2012 I suppose. that venue holds nothing but pain and misery for me

so with my biases stated up front, where the big 3/4 rivalries are concerned, I'm basically in the 'anybody but fedal' camp. that one I feel nothing for and its popularity continues to absolutely baffle me. no hate to anyone who enjoys it but I do treat its continued dominance basically like a psyop. idk who's responsible for this or why they're doing it, but SOMEBODY is pursuing some kind of nefarious agenda. call me casey stoner because I've cracked the code. I understand they're both individually rather popular and I suppose in a detached unemotional way I do get how that could happen, but as a unit? idk man. also, EYE am a rivalry enjoyer, but I get very suspicious when too many fans are an enjoyer of a particular rivalry... (or y'know, sometimes you've got rivalries that have a lot of 'theoretical fans' but you can kinda tell they do basically hate one of the competitors involved and will immediately throw them overboard if they have to take a side, which also passes the test.) just shows to me that there's zero edge there. most partisan fans of an athlete hate anyone who is a threat to their athlete, that's just how people are. if there's this little hate then that tells me that there's too little threat which tells me the stakes aren't quite there competitively or emotionally... which tells me that there's no real reason to care. I'm well aware that federer fans used to be more likely to be nadal haters back in the noughties (david foster wallace coming through for me again on that front) and that nadal fans are more into that rivalry than federer fans and that they're both retired now... but still!! if it was a proper fun rivalry, more partisan fans would still be bitter. fundamentally the rivalry is good for both of them in terms of legacy and pr and all that shit and they both clearly agree so it's just... empty

which yeah, so full agree on the stuff you say lol. I HAVE watched the wimbledon 2008 final (and I... think?? must have watched it at the time, I was still pretty young and clearly it wasn't a defining enough experience it stuck in my mind lol) but it's been years by now. so I can't actually reallyyyy speak to its quality and I'm probably not going to rewatch it any time soon. I do also just think it's the most boring match-up tennis-wise... partly this is because my favourite big three playstyle is djokovic's - I love how he moves around the court, I love the compact backhand and the emphasis on counterpunching... the nadal/federer match-up was mostly defined by federer attempting to figure out ways to prevent nadal from bullying his backhand. which I do know is oversimplifying things lol but it's. kinda true. djokovic/federer is the best match-up tennis-wise even if it's a bit one-sided in the biggest moments (which, whatever, that was narratively engaging too)... federer's full artistry against djokovic's precision was just more exciting to watch. then comes djokovic/nadal which is a bit of a counterpuncher-off, like they are quite tactically similar in a lot of ways, extremely optimised baseliners... but that means they were always going to push each other the furthest - they were already half a step ahead of federer in the evolution of tennis and everyone now is obviously basing their tennis primarily on how they changed the game. and, y'know, nadal's biggest rival is djokovic!! I get why if you're a nadal fan, you'd want it to be federer, but well! tough!

and YES yes I ABSOLUTELY agree that federer/djokovic is the most interesting interpersonally because federer was SO arrogant towards djokovic. the worst thing that happened to federer is that he became a pr merchant, like at least being a cunt was INTERESTING. he used to be absolutely dreadful about murray too!! aggressively unpleasant!! but that one was also frustrating because... murray didn't end up surpassing him... (I genuinely have like. traumatic flashbacks to watching their atp finals 2014 match. I don't think my soul ever quite recovered from that day.) but with djokovic!! people used to be so unpleasant about him - and okay, by now unfortunately he's given everyone plenty of cause, but BACK THEN it was a completely different story. it was so much fun rooting for him when the crowds were being horrid to him and he stuck it in their faces... before he did all the boob throwing business - staring icily at them when he beat their hero? hot

and federer was so so snide about the guy... pepperidge farm remembers when he accused teenage djokovic of faking his injuries in 2006

The 19-year-old Djokovic called his trainer multiple times. He had hamstring issues, but Federer thought he was faking his injuries to disrupt Wawrinka’s rhythm. “I don’t trust his injuries. I’m serious. I think he’s a joke, you know, when it comes down to his injuries,” Federer said.

OR in 2009

Djokovic, the No. 3 seed, threw in the towel midway through the fourth set of his quarterfinal with Andy Roddick, trailing 6-7 (3), 6-4, 6-2, 2-1. But in pointed comments, Federer, the No. 2 seed, noted that it wasn't the first time Djokovic has withdrawn midway through a match in a Grand Slam. "He's not a guy who's never given up before ... it's disappointing," said Federer, who will face Roddick in the semifinals. "I've only done it once in my career ... Andy totally deserved to win that match." "I'm almost in favor of saying, you know what, if you're not fit enough, just get out of here," Federer added. "If Novak were up two sets to love I don't think he would have retired 4-0 down in the fourth. Thanks to Andy that he retired in the end. Andy pushed him to the limits. Hats off to Andy."

'if novak were up two sets to love I don't think he would have retired 4-0 down in the fourth' ...? what are you even saying

and like, on a moral level I do actually think this is pretty gross and have a massive bone to pick with federer on his whole 'look at me aren't I amazing for never retiring from a match' schtick, which continues to have lasting harmful consequences in this sport. this kind of record isn't heroic, it's just fucking stupid. but also, it's hardly the first time or the last time tennis players accused each other of playing up their injuries - it's very much part of the sport, we've all done it or at least thought it. I am also on the record as being pro beefing with children. and it's very strong set-up for that rivalry, especially given how bloody often djokovic went on to crush federer's spirit! it's better set-up than the payoff, quite frankly

that being said, perhaps my favourite match they played is us open 2011 semis - y'know, the match where djokovic saves two matchpoints in the fifth set en route to beating federer... oh, I suppose that doesn't completely narrow it down!!

ah well!

back to 2011, that match did lead to just some really strong snarking in the press:

Djokovic was honest enough to admit the shot was a gamble – but Federer was reluctant to give him credit even for that courage in a crisis, preferring to regard it as desperate. "Confidence? Are you kidding me?" he said when it was put to him the cross-court forehand off his first serve – described by John McEnroe as "one of the all-time great shots" – was either a function of luck or confidence. "I mean, please. Some players grow up and play like that – being down 5-2 in the third, and they all just start slapping shots. I never played that way. I believe hard work's going to pay off, because early on maybe I didn't always work at my hardest. For me, this is very hard to understand. How can you play a shot like that on match point? Maybe he's been doing it for 20 years, so for him it was very normal. You've got to ask him." Djokovic was in a more relaxed mood. "Yeah, I tend to do that on match points," he said, reminded that it was exactly what he did to Federer last year. "It kinda works."

IT KINDA WORKS jhgjhgjhgkf get him again from me

here's the matchpoint save in question ofc

youtube

"someday the little twins will grow up to hear about matches like this" well -

which, I mean, federer's being extremely annoying in press! 'oh I'm above taking risks when I'm down on the scoreboard' says the man who ended up with one hell of a reputation for choking. it's also silly!! sometimes it's worth taking a swing at it!! also psychologically, because you're making things less complicated for yourself!! in individual matches, you won't necessarily be rewarded for your diligence and hard work, just not how anything works you moron. but y'know, this was the REAL federer. by the following year he'd already completely clamped down on this kind of thing and it felt like really djokovic could have also been WAY more bitter about this stuff than he publicly was... but yeah, this I did enjoy

and yeah, I do kinda see the vale/jorge comparison! like you say, federer is kinda... more arrogant, more contemptuous towards his younger rivals, also just more of a sore loser until pr got to him? tennis is infamous for its frosty handshakes, but you compare some of those with how warm valentino generally was when he lost... federer's problem was that he lacked self-awareness and was just so committed to this image of the gentleman's sport, which is why he ended up shying away from all this stuff. the unpleasantness with djokovic was actually like... still fairly late in the game, all things considered, it wasn't even really like 2011!federer to say stuff like that. which does show djokovic was capable of really really getting under his skin! and on djokovic's end, where the jorge comparison very much applies is how much he wanted the people to love him (ik his fans hate this narrative but like,, obviously he did). and how they had all already decided he was the enemy for beating their beloved federer and nadal. I do find it a bit easier to stomach with valentino because he deliberately plays with this stuff, weaponising the crowd and all that, whereas federer and nadal just pretend like it's not happening. (also morally it might be worse to boo at a motogp event because of the danger they're putting themselves in, but practically booing at a tennis match is far far worse - you can actually influence the competitors in a way you obviously cannot in motogp.) but that WAS one of the most interesting storylines in the big three era... djokovic slowly catching these two greats who were always so far ahead of them, however much people didn't want him to, even though he didn't have the love of the people on his side, and eventually managing to surpass them altogether. I do think there's plenty of interesting stuff there!! good groundwork! it's just... nowhere near enough, given how bloody long these guys ended up dominating

on djokovic/murray - MY favourite combination of guys as well, just in terms of how much I actually like both of them. it's an interesting relationship where it's like... they knew each other quite well when they were young, then inevitably grew apart a bit when they were competing for big titles? obviously they were also born exactly a week apart from each other, which is narratively fun. I suppose it's the equivalent to jorge/dani which... actually wait, no, I realise that would assign nadal to casey and certainly not my god. it's a rivalry that's a bit tough to stomach from a murray fan perspective because... I mean, it's not quite 'this is not a rivalry, they always kick our ass' territory... but when I started following tennis as a kid, it felt completely plausible that murray and djokovic would have similarly successful careers. which obviously. did not happen. still remember that kind of controversial 2015 australian open final -

- and, y'know, it's a bit frustrating!! this was the tone of a lot of that era, where you kinda just wanted to take them all aside and tell them. my god. maybe a little bit of feuding is okay, no? but well, it is what it is, mostly they had a good relationship. 2016 was kinda the best of times and worst of times because murray was pouring his heart and soul into scraping all of his potential out of himself, got another slam, year end #1 etc... but it also probably did end up fucking up his body permanently, in the quest to fight djokovic. and there IS something compelling and sad about that, but yeah. still a bit of an old wound as an actual sports fan lol

and yeah, they're two closely related playstyles!! counterpunchers with particularly excellent backhands - and if a wing falters, then it's the forehand. it was lendl coaching murray and getting him to properly go after his forehand, be aggressive enough off that wing, that got him his biggest successes. djokovic's weaknesses are less pronounced and especially these last few years, he's often been lethal as a serve + 1 forehand merchant. roland garros 2023 is a good example of that... murray was the tactician, generally thought a lot on court and had a lot in his arsenal - ofc most famously his excellent lob. djokovic does also have more to his game than just baseline pushing, even if sometimes that involves just spamming dropshots when he feels uneasy. obviously, as can be seen from the slam count, his game ended up being just a bit better... but, well, these are very fine margins. murray's slam count is deceptive, he really was the one guy who could consistently hang with those three year-in year-out. whatever revisionism people try to do now, it really was a big four era

as for the coaching relationship, I'm very curious!! coaching can take a lot of different forms and sometimes there's a bit of a distinction between the... bread and butter coaching, the people who are working with you day to day, and these more high profile gigs where sometimes it really is just localised to specific tournaments. it's all very individualised, depends on the specific demands of the player - obviously, given where djokovic is at in his career, you won't be seeing particularly major adjustments, like murray isn't going to come in and suddenly suggest djokovic revamps his serve, right. (though sometimes players still tinker with this stuff late into careers, especially if they're managing injuries.) given the particular stresses of playing in a match, what an odd experience that is in its own right, sometimes you do just need someone to be observing you, give your game a critical once-over from a little bit of distance. now, admittedly from what I've seen of djokovic's coaching relationships, I do feel like one of the coach's roles in THAT particular camp is also just 'being yelled at continuously during matches'. which...? a little curious if djokovic has that same tone when murray's standing there lmao. also one of the reasons for the yelling is when djokovic feels like he's not getting enough enthusiasm from his box. which... ... uh. I mean. murray wouldn't have been top on MY list for that particular metric. but he can get passionate at davis cup from what I've seen!! so maybe it'll work out

anyway yeah I'll cut it off there lol. obviously I spent half my childhood thinking about tennis and inevitably that involved a lot of thinking about the big four and that means I have a lot of thoughts on them so. basically it's fedole > rafole > fedal as far as I'm concerned. good luck to djokovic/murray in their endeavours, I will be there no matter what

#i'm also SO ticked off at the Next Big Things in men's tennis that like. i'm not gonna do any big three revisionism #but i will say that even a swiss man generated more narrative tension than this lot. so that helps #also it's a bit of a pyrrhic victory with the big three where they have kinda managed to kill the part of me that cares #so now it's a bit. whatever. sure i'll celebrate your retirement but... you outlived my ability to feel something #also low key since my options in january are the djokovic/murray team up or some pasty ginger austrian... i'm rooting for novandy idc #//#racquet tag #kwisatzworld #batsplat responds #trust my head completely went when i saw the djokovic/murray coaching news. i didn't know i had that in me anymore #sleeper agent in me activated. i mean first of all the whole thing just reads like a fic prompt doesn't it #i WOULD be more of a djokovic fan if he weren't SO... you know. i know all these men suck but the vaccine stuff and genocide apologia....#my line with athletes is that if you don't tell me your terrible beliefs we're good. but please don't actively support harmful causes #really the off-court stuff cumulatively was why i soured on djokovic more than anything to do with the tennis

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paperstorm · 4 months ago

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I'd really love to know how realistic that "Carlos spinoff" is and if it's just someone being excited about the Rangers storylines coming up in season 5 or if there actually have been serious talks about that. It's funny cause IF it's happening TK/Ronen would basically have the role of Carlos/Rafa in the first season which is being someone's boyfriend husband cause obviously the focus would be on the Rangers and there would probably be no individual paramedic storylines. But also there are a few people who think TK is retiring from the 126 in the final of season 5 which I don't really see happening yet but would work well for this potential sequel bc he would be at home (caring for Jonah?) and Carlos would come home each day to him being there with dinner made and everything taken care of and - my god my mind is doing over hours they can't just drop information like that in some niche sentence and not expect our brains to go into overdrive!

Also I'd love to have a sequel for obvious reasons but it would also feel kinda weird bc first of all everybody else is forced to go off and do new things and Rafa (& maybe Ronen) would be the only ones allowed to stay a bit longer in this universe plus it would feel weird to not have their chosen family there anymore. Like what do you mean there are no 126 hangouts or family dinners anymore? Feels fake. Anyway all these thoughts just to probably find out at some point that a sequel was never part of any serious talks.

Idek what to think about any of it my mind is reeling and tragically I have to work 😭 It doesn't sound like a spin-off is actually in the works at this point it sounds like an idea that's being pitched which means statistically it's unlikely to happen since way more ideas get pitched than ones that actually get made. But I also am kind of lowkey predicting TK is going to decide to quit to take care of Jonah so if that's the case it would be a good place to have a spin off that pays more attention to Carlos and features TK somewhat, but not as much. I wonder if the actors would be into that. Idk!!!!!!! The speculation is like equal parts fun and not fun, isn't it 😂 it's fun but it also makes me itchy

#911ls asks #911 lone star spoilers #911 lone star speculation

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a-swiss-and-a-spaniard · 1 year ago

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Hi darling! For the ask game 2, 8, 9, 15, 24 💜💜

Hi Toni, thanks for the numbers! 💙

2. which player would you think you'd be best friends with upon first meeting?

I think Domi. I'm an introvert, so it takes me a while to warm up to people, but he seems easy to talk to. He's smart and loves nature and I'm a biologist, so we could gush about random animal facts. I bet he would be an amazing hiking buddy as well! I was also a fan of boybands at one point, so he can blast his playlist during car rides and I would actually sing along. Plus I could learn some Austrian slang from him, which would be fun

8. which tournament has the prettiest trophy?

I prefer simple, clean designs, so my favorites are Shanghai, Paris and Miami

But I’m also in love with the pretty colors of the Los Cabos trophy

And it always cracks me up to think about it in Meddy's trophy jail lol

9. who's your favourite retired player?

I mean, I MEAN… don't know if you've heard about this Swiss man(? He had a quite prolific career; won a few Masters, got 20 Grand Slams, and went on to play his last match alongside his biggest rival. He appears smooth and suave, but he's a goofball at heart and turns into a giggling mess whenever Rafa is around(? Yeah, he'll always be my all time favorite

15. a new player you would want to succeed in the future?

I guess Ben Shelton seems nice(? Tbh I haven't followed him much but he gives off puppy energy (Fisher called him a border collie and I think that's accurate).

I haven't really gotten attached to new players other than Andrey, but he's not exactly 'new’ anymore lol

24. favourite match outfit?

Depends on the player, of course, but I will always love Rafa's sleeveless shirts. Particularly the bright pink one form AO 2020 <3

!!! But also: all-black looks 🔥

#ask game #tennis #yes I added pictures for reference #yes it was mostly an excuse to look through my tennis album lol

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zingaplanet · 2 years ago

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Love that ask! I've also wondered what the rest of the tour makes of how absurdly close Roger and Rafa are. Not to stir the pot but I think it bothers Novak - in the sense that he seems to consider Rafa his biggest rival and has been vocal about that many times. It has to rankle a bit that Rafa doesn't feel the same and openly says Roger is the most important player in his career, whereas Novak would say that about Rafa. He also looked uncomfortable at times getting a front row seat to the Fedal love affair. Those 3 definitely have a complicated history with each other but I guess it is what it is.

Yea i get what you mean, it's a bit strange the dynamic between the 3 but it also developed like this because of the different kind of timelines between their rivalries that I talked about in the previous asks.

In a sense, I feel for Novak a bit as he's always going to be the odd one out, he always says that Nadal and Federer are his greatest rivals (because they are), but they never really say that about him specifically. And this is not due to any discredit on his competitiveness whatsoever it's just the way their career histories come to clash with one another. Federer and Nadal were fundamentals to each other's first rise to power, but when Novak started joining them, both Roger and Rafa were already at the top (they've both been world number 1s). It's a different sort of camaraderie, in a way that Rafa and Roger never really had to 'prove' themselves the way Novak had to with them, by breaking in to their duopoly.

It's also fascinating because Rafa was technically closer to Andy and Novak's generation than Roger's, they're practically age-wise peers. But because Rafa peaked so early (when he was 17), his 'growing up' on the tour is actually with the likes of Roddick, Federer, Hewitt, Ferru etc. You can actually see this in the early days, he was much more in a 'friend-like' relationships with Andy and Novak compared to how he was with Roger. I remember reading an article of an interviewer who was tailing Rafa for the day and when they arrived at the parking lot of the practice courts somebody was making crazy noises and calling his name from the car across them. It was Novak and Rafa came over to joke with him etc and the interviewer said that he was surprised how well they actually know each other. Judy Murray also said that Rafa was Andy's constant FIFA buddy, they used to play football matches on playstation until midnight during tours, but also online when they were both at homes. This was all before Murray Djokovic started challenging for titles seriously of course. There's actually a lot of insights to the early tour days that we missed from this golden generation of tennis. Like it or not, they technically grew up together and saw each other more than their own families, it's a bit like school! Except these players moved continents every few weeks or so. Novak and Andy have actually known each other since they were 12, they were practically childhood buddies. I've also read some crazy stories about the spanish armada pranking andy roddick etc during the old days and I would pay really good money to see a reality tv coverage of these days! It kinda makes me miss the old generation of tennis, so many of them are gone now 🥺

Anyhow, back to Roger though, he was actually quite a bit detached from the group in the early 2000s I feel, just because his 'actual generation' that is hewitt, etc were retiring and he's stuck with this influx of new kids who are starting to be really2 good (*ehem* cue a certain Spaniard) after 4 or 5 years of really boring competition. Everybody likes him tho, because ofc he's Roger, and Roddick actually said he was the first World Number One that he actually genuinely couldn't dislike lol. But I suppose he was more of a 'father' figure, he was the world number one, and everybody just put him on a pedestal.

The only person that Roger actually genuinely connect to in these early days, even before their rivalries fully blossomed was Rafa, I guess. The relationship Rafa had with Roger in the beginning was very different, and both of them said this as well these days, it was more of a schoolboy idolation with mutual respect and bond. Even then it was a different relationship than what Rafa had with his spanish teammates or age group peers. Rafa, in a sense I think, was the first one who actually broke this generational gap. By breaking into the scene, he's someone who, interestingly, became sort of the connecting string between his age group peers with the 'top guys', specifically because it was obvious that Federer liked him a lot lol. And Rafa was actually the first one who actually forced Roger to rethink his game, and reshifted his perception of their rivalries. He said this himself, he kinda have to force himself to accept that he now has an equal, a rival that will stay and challenge him for good.

I think we talk a lot about this 'mentor-mentee', 'idol-fan' dynamic between Roger and Rafa but what really really shifted their dynamic forever and solidified their bond I feel was when both of them had to sort of shift in the spectrum and fully accept each other as equals. I feel like this was a huge growing up moment not only in their careers but also in their lives.

By the time Novak came around, it was almost impossible to break into this detente respect that Federer-Nadal have built between themselves, although Novak had no difficulty in breaking their ranks. Personally, though, I don't think Djokovic had any qualms about the bond that he clearly KNOWS Federer-Nadal have and if I can respect him for anything, I guess it's for this. He might be a bit bitter of being the odd one out early on but I think this year's Laver Cup especially, really really showed how Andy and Novak accepted their roles in this weird four-way rivalries dynamic. That they will always be in the background in terms of personal bonds, and Andy even goes so far to say that it was right that Roger should finish with Rafa, not anybody else.

It's a strange kind of aura that everyone sorts of knows they're witnessing something untouchable, something special that's unbreakable in their bubble. A good comparison, randomly, is The Beatles. Both four beatles are extremely close with each other and considered each other brothers, but even then they knew Lennon-McCartney had a special bond, and George and Ringo would never try to break into their bubble when they were writing songs together.

So there you have it, a completely, unprompted, presumably presumptous long essay that is probably untrue lol. But one asked and one shall receive anon. One shall receive.

#i need to restraint myself #stop enabling me and asking me all these interesting asks!!#i'll fill ur timelines with academic essays on someone's personal relationships at this point #fedal #tennis #ask #roger federer #rafael nadal

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navalcriminalimagines · 4 years ago

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Hi! First of all love your work 🤌🏽🥺✨ AMAZING

And secondly

I was hoping to request a Barbra x reader where the reader is young (of age ofc ) Professional Olympic Gold medalist Vollyball player and the team finds out they are dating?

Like they see him at one of there games and they just can’t believe Barbra is with them?

Hope you are having a amazing night ! I’m currently on a long bus ride home.

Thanks a lot sweetie!!! 🥺 I really hope I’ve done a good job and that’s what you wanted! I hope your bus ride went well!! Love 💕

Rafael Barba was never into sports. Either participating or just watching, it’s not his thing. Until he met you. Well, he’s not much into sports in the matter of speaking, he’s just really into you. That’s how he ended up in Brazil during summer 2016, to support you while you competed at the Olympic Games with your Volleyball team.

You and Rafael weren’t officially dating back then, but your mother’s health prevented her from making the trip with you, and without really thinking about it, Rafael offered to come with you. And he’s been the best supporter you could have imagined.

Your first kiss happened right after you and your team won the Gold medal. Rafael felt so happy for you, when you jumped in his arms, his lips immediately found their way to yours.

Until now, you still consider this the best summer you ever had.

And Rafael never left your side. He comes to your games every time he can make it, he helps you train, he takes care of you when your body gives up a bit. You couldn’t have dreamt of a better boyfriend than Rafael Barba.

“Is everything ready for tomorrow?” He asked, checking on your bags.

“I think so. Is your mum still coming?”

“Of course. It’s the first time she can come to one of your games, she isn’t missing it for the world,” he smiled, hugging you from behind.

“I can’t believe it’s my last game,” you said, looking at your gear. Rafael’s hands were resting on your stomach, with your own hands above his.

“You are careful, okay? I agreed about you playing, because it’s important for you but I don’t want anything to happen to our little one,”

You smiled. You still can’t believe you’re pregnant. You found that a week prior, and you obviously considered about not playing but what a better to end your volleyball career than during a game at the Madison Square Garden. “They’re going to be fine, baby. We have a whole plan with the coach, I won’t do much,” you turned around to face Rafael, your arms around his neck and his, in your back. You softly kissed him.

“Are you sure you want this to be your last game? You can come back when our baby will be born and a bit older,”

“I’ve always told myself that once I’m a mother, I’d stop being an athlete. This career asks too much,”

“Whatever you do, whatever you choose, I’m so proud of you. You know that?” Rafael kissed your forehead, “and dios mio, thank you for choosing me to do that with,” your boyfriend has been overwhelmed since you brought him the news. He gave up the idea of having a family a long time ago, but you brought it back to life. Just like you brought Rafael back to life.

He made sure you felt relax and that you had a good night sleep. Tomorrow was a real big day.

Since it was Friday, Rafael had to spend a part of the day at the office. He had a meeting with the SVU squad to talk about a case.

“Come on Rollins, would you have thought about inviting Barba on a Friday night?” Sonny defended himself. He surprised the squad with tickets to a volleyball game at the MSG, but he didn’t count Barba in.

“No but only because I don’t get along with him. You are you, Carisi,”

“Well I’m sorry, okay? But you’ll see I was right not to count him in,”

An hour later, Rafael arrived to the precinct. Sonny didn’t waste time to prove his point. “Barba, are you free tonight?” He asked the ADA.

“No. Why? Want to ask me on a date, detective?”

Carisi laughed and looked at Rollins with a proud face. “Would you be interested?” Sonny played along.

“You’re good looking, Carisi. But not my type, you’re too—noodling,”

“Should I be offended?”

“Is Liv there?” Barba didn’t answer but he had a smirk on his face.

You didn’t want to let your team about your pregnancy and your retirement before the game. Whether the team win or lose tonight, it’s definitely a win for you. You won everything.

Luckily, you were barely 7 weeks pregnant, so your stomach was still pretty flat. That’s something you didn’t have to hide. An hour before the game started, you had a text from Rafael, letting you know he was there with his mother.

“Lucia, hi! Nice to see you,” you hugged your mother-in-law.

“I’m happy to finally see you play. How are you mija?”

“I’m good and you?” You moved on to kiss Rafael, but it was a very chaste kiss, he never been confortable with PDA in front of his mother. It always makes you smile. You took them to their places, right behind your team bench.

“Be careful and have fun mi amor. I love you both so much,” Rafael whispered to you before you went back to the locker rooms.

The atmosphere in the Garden was amazing. You focused on your game but you couldn’t help but to look at Rafael from time to time. The squad was up in the audience, everyone was having a lot of fun.

“Gosh, there’s a guy behind the New York team that looks exactly like Barba,” Sonny noticed to Rollins. The detective immediately tried to look where Sonny was pointing.

“Dude! That’s Barba!” She exclaimed. Rollins let the rest of the squad know.

[From Liv] : Best seat I see, Rafa... ;)

[From Rafael] : Discovered. :) I’ll see you after the game?

Although they noticed Rafael, none of the squad believed what they saw once your team won. After a celebration, they saw their sarcastic and cynical ADA in the way they never saw him before. They saw you jumping in Rafael’s arms and kissing him deeply.

“The squad’s here. I guess it’s the night of full disclosure,” he let you know.

You had to most amazing smile Rafael never saw before. He wanted to cry on the spot, he never felt this happy in his life.

After a short celebration with Rafael, you went back to the locker room with your team and it was the time to let them know. The coach made a very proud speech, and she invited you to talk.

“I’m just going to see how things are. Tonight was my last game with you. I’m pregnant,” you cried of happiness, “I’m going to have a baby!” All the girls jumped from happiness for you, they congratulated you. Some of them cried too but it was nothing but joy in the locker room.

Of course they wanted to congratulate Rafael too. He’s been awesome with them too, some of your best friends were in your team.

“Congratulations, daddy!” Your very best friend jumped on Rafael’s back. The squad and Lucia looked at him, confused. You were right behind, he extended his hand to you and kissed your temple when your body hit his.

“Everyone, this is Y/N, my girlfriend and the woman who’s caring my child. Mami, you’re going to be an abuelita,”

Lucia cried from happiness. It was finally happening. His son found the love of his life and he’s going to be a father, everything was right in this world.

“Lucky bastard, he’s dating my athlete crush,” Sonny smiled at Fin.

#law and order svu #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order: special victims unit #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #l&o: svu #law and order special victims unit #barba x reader

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bestsportmedia · 4 years ago

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Lionel Messi talks FC Barcelona and more in exclusive Interview with Jordi Évole : Part 2

Elvole: What the shirt mean to you

Messi: I feel everything for this shirt. Barça is my life. I have been here since I was 13 years old, I have lived more in Barcelona than in Argentina and the club gave me everything as a person. I have a love relationship for what I have lived since I arrived here. My children were born here too.

Messi: As athletes, I admire many. Rafa Nadal, Federer, LeBron ... in all sports there are admirable athletes for their work. Cristiano in football too

Evole: With games being played twice a week now, do you feel your being exploited by the likes of LaLiga, UEFA or FIFA?

Messi: I understand that TV deals need to be adhered to but feel there is not that much consideration for the well-being of the players

Evole: Where did you get that old Newell's shirt that you wore as a tribute ? Messi: It was a old gift from the club..... I felt it was the right time to bring it out and pay my respect for Diego. Evole: Maradona showed his colors politically.... you've never been tempted to express yourself politically ? Messi: No, this is something I feel better to keep to myself. I'm a football player and although I have my views, I feel it better to keep this personal. Politics became something rare for people. More than political parties they look like football teams. People fight for them. But I want the best for my country, that the people who have less can have things. But I don't I have no particular political definition. I just want them to move the country forward, without stealing or doing strange things. Evole: There were those who doubted your love for the club at the time... Messi: Yes, that bothered me ... I felt I'd completed a cycle and it was time to leave the club that had given me so much. I wanted to win titles and battle for the Champions League and felt it was time for change. The president then started to filter this and that to paint a negative picture of me.

Messi: It was far from easy for me to say I wanted to leave the club and the city....the family wanted to stay here, this is their home but I genuinely felt it was time to go. Luis Suarez's departure had nothing to do with the decision but I felt it was crazy the way his exit was handled and that Barcelona let him go to a direct rival.

Evole: How did you feel betrayed by Bartomeu?

Messi: I'd rather not comment on this now...it will come out in the future but there were plenty of things...

Evole: Were you advised by your legal team to stay?

Messi: No, although talking to them, they even conveyed the idea that we'd win a legal battle, but that was the last thing I wanted.

Evole: Referring to the tax issues that Messi experienced... do you feel that fans forgive everything ...

Messi: No, at some point they will fail to stand by you depending on the situation

Evole: Why do you always claim that Pep was the best coach you worked under?

Messi: His way of preparing games was exceptional and his way and the way of working that Luis Enrique empoued too was excellent .... I was fortunate to work with both men.

Evole: Do you feel there is direction with Barcelona under Koeman?

Messi: Yes, it's difficult for him as we're in transition .... there are new players and young talent coming through so it's difficult too.

Evole: Are you a Barcelona club member ?

Messi: I am but not sure if I'll vote in the forthcoming presidential elections. Whoever comes in will find the club in a tricky state and will have to work hard to put the club back where it was. As yet none of the candidates have called me.

Evole: I find it strange that none of them have called you. Would you be prepared to stay if Xavi is brought in as coach or Neymar as a player?

Messi: Let's wait and see what happens and I'll make my mind up in the summer. The club are going through a tough period financially so it will be complicated to bring Neymar in.

Evole: Do you have a Whatsapp group with Suarez and Neymar?

Messi: Neymar should be asked why he said we were going to play together. Yes, we speak a great deal and I speak to Luis every day. Last time I spoke to Neymar was after the UCL Round of 16 draw. I did not want to face him now.

Evole: Who do you get on with best in the dressing room? How do you get on with Griezmann?

Messi: My relationship with Griezmann is good. I never did everything that was said, that I did not want his signing. There is no problem with him, we even have mate together sometimes

Evole: You will be a free agent in a matter of days. Will you start to talk to clubs next week?

Messi: No, far from it, that would go against what I'm saying .... my plan is to all I can for the club at the moment. I have nothing clear until the end of the year. Now I only think about finishing the season and winning titles,

Evole offers Messi travel guides to Manchester and Paris

Messi :no, you hang on to them

Messi: I would like to play in the United States and experience life and the league there.... but ultimately come back to Barcelona in some capacity. I'm not thinking too far ahead in the short term and just want to see how the season finishes. I know there are a lot of Barça people who still love me, but I'm going to do my best for the club and for myself. Besides, I want to live in Barcelona and be in the club in some way when I retire.

Evole: Do you feel if the Camp Nou was packed and you had fans chanting "Messi, Messi" week in, week out, then things would be different?

Messi: Possibly... I'm happier now and it took some time ...even with the new players coming in, that all takes time to build.

Evole: You'll notice that I didn't bring a Madrid travel guide.... that's not going to happen? Not even Atleti?

Messi: No, that won't happen....neither option.....

Evole: What will you do when you cease to be 'Lionel Messi, best player in the world'?

Messi: No idea.... something related to football but I don't see myself as a coach, maybe a sporting director. We'll have to see.

Evole: Things will end in a fairy tale ending if you decide to stay with Barcelona?

Messi: That's true, all my life in this city ...good and bad times and we'll just have to wait and see how things work out. It's a love story from a very young age with the club and the city. Either way, everything that my career meant should not be stained.

To the fans: "I don't know if I'm going to leave, but if I did, I would like to leave in the best way possible and be able to return to the club in the future. Barcelona is much bigger than any player.

Evole: you cease to be 'Lionel Messi, best player in the world'?

Messi: No idea.... something related to football but I don't see myself as a coach, maybe a sporting director. We'll have to see.

Evole: I'd like to be able to hug you Leo but that's complicated with the pandemic.

Messi: Yes, I hope for better things in 2021, this has been a shitty year so let's see what next year brings. Many thanks for the interview and I wish you well for the year ahead.

#lionel messi #leo messi #Luis Suarez #neymar jr #FC Barcelona #argentina nt #interview #griezmann #pep guardiola #Luis Enrique #what do you think of the interview?

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plaidbooks · 4 years ago

Text

Everyone Deserves Love chapter 4

A/N: He’s here! Now done with the prologue, Barba has finally made it to the story haha. This is a long chapter, but it’s also a lot of exposition since it takes place 3 years after chapter 3. That’s right, this chapter takes place in season 15, right after Cragen retires. Gonna say now that I tried to keep the timeline of the show as close as I could, but I have taken some liberties (for example, Cragen leaving to Lewis dying is apparently 4 months, which is insanely short). Also, yes, Amaro should be on desk duty at this time, but with a threat on Olivia’s life, she’s not gonna be left alone.

Also, now that this story is in the “present” tense, and with both Devon and Barba, the narrative will switch between the two’s pov. It’s mostly Devon’s, but you do get Barba’s insight, as well

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: mentions of rape, mentions of trafficking, alcohol/drinking, knives, guns

Words: 12k+

Courthouse

Wednesday, January 26th. 4:36pm

“We find the defendant guilty,” the juror said before taking their seat. The judge thanked the jury for their services and dismissed the court. On the outside, Rafael Barba showed no emotions aside from a small smirk—ever the smug counselor—and simply gathered his papers, put them in his case, and latched it. On the inside, however, he was many things; relieved, happy, and yes, maybe a little smug. Yet a nagging part of his mind was nervous, if not a little afraid; something he wasn’t quite used to feeling, especially after securing a guilty verdict. Sure, he got the conviction on a top-ranking gang member—one Jorge Ramirez--who was just sent to jail for the rest of his mortal life for trafficking, rape, and murder. But Barba knew that this may put a target on his back in retaliation from Ramirez’s gang…not that he hadn’t dealt with some sort of threats in the past. But this time, his instinct was telling him something was off. He pushed the feeling down, grabbed his case while receiving a very nasty glare from Ramirez as he was pulled away, then turned to see Sergeant Benson and all of the other SVU detectives giving him broad grins or congratulations.

“Guilty on all counts. Nice, Rafael,” Liv said with a pat on his shoulder.

“Let’s hope we can round up the rest of his posse,” Barba replied. “Drinks?”

Flanagan’s Bar

Wednesday, January 26th. 5:06pm

They all agreed that a celebration drink was in order—this had been a rough case all around--and made their way from the courthouse to the cop bar down the street. None of the party were particularly heavy drinkers, but Barba knew that he wanted to leave his mind for a little bit tonight; this wasn’t his first hard case that he had dealt with recently. That being said, Fin only stayed for one drink, saying he had other things to do tonight. Rollins had a couple drinks, then bowed out herself. Amaro mentioned something about facetiming his daughter before she went to bed and headed out shortly after, leaving Liv and Barba alone. They moved from the big, party table to the stools at the bar, chatting idly about the case, then about life; the norm when they were alone together. Barba never admitted it aloud, but he loved their friendship; Liv was smart, strong, and, most importantly, put up with his shit. What they had wasn’t romantic by any standard; it was fully platonic, and they both knew it, regardless of what rumors flew about. But they both cared for each other in a way that was…different from anyone else. These types of relationships seemed to flock to Liv, seeing as she had a team that she worked with daily and trusted with her life. But Barba? Well, he had a couple childhood friends that he’d see around town, though after the business with Muñoz, those friends were fewer and farther in between. Then there was his secretary, Carmen, and a few acquaintances at work—none of these people were actual friends he saw outside of work, besides at the occasional suit and tie benefit dinners his office forced him to attend. Sure, he was friendly…sometimes…with them, and with the SVU detectives, but nothing that was substantial outside of Liv.

“You need a ride home tonight, Rafa?” Olivia asked after she finished her glass of wine. Barba took a look at his scotch; it wasn’t low enough to shoot it back quite yet. And he didn’t want to make Liv wait for him.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I can catch a cab tonight,” he replied with a half-smile. Olivia gave him a look like she knew exactly what he was thinking, feeling. But she decided not to comment on it. She knew he could take care of himself.

“Good night, then. Good win today,” she smiled at him as she stood, putting her jacket on.

“Sleep well,” he replied, returning her smile, before taking a sip of his drink.

Liv grinned. “Oh, I will, knowing that we finally put Ramirez behind bars.” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, gave him a light squeeze, then headed out into the cold evening. Barba sighed and checked his watch, 9:07pm, later than he thought. He was usually in bed pretty early after a big win, since he normally had to stay up late the previous week preparing. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he couldn’t stop the picture of his quiet loft from flashing across his mind, nor the sudden feeling of loneliness—something that he hasn’t felt in a while. Sure, he has been alone for a long time now, but that never bothered him…much. The truth is, he was usually too busy to really dwell on the fact that his bed, his home, his life, has been empty outside of himself. Plus, the scandal with Alex, Eddy, and Yelina happened only a few, short months ago. And Barba still couldn’t understand how Alex could be doing things like…that…when he got to come home to Yelina at night. YELINA. She was smart, attractive, strong…. Oh, the alcohol was definitely affecting his mood. He’d finish this drink, then head home, end this self-pity spree.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” a soft voice asked to his left.

Barba jumped; sucked into his thoughts, he didn’t hear anyone approaching him. “N-no, uh, help yourself,” he replied, turning his head slightly, but not really looking at the person. He heard the stool pull out and the person—a woman, he realized—sat down next to him.

“Whiskey and coke, please,” she ordered. The bartender nodded and went off to make her drink. There was silence, but Barba could feel her gaze on him. His heart was still racing from her surprise appearance, but now he felt his face heating slightly from her stare. “My name’s Devon, by the way.”

“Rafael.” This time, he turned and gave her a somewhat forced smile. He felt his face turn fully red as he looked her up and down, too dumbstruck to even try and hide it. Devon was, well, beautiful. She had long, brown hair cascading down her back in waves, a plain, black v-neck that hugged her curves, navy jeans, and a heavy black trench coat that she had opened once inside the heat of the bar. The simplicity of her outfit did nothing to diminish her natural beauty, and Barba didn’t really care that he was caught staring. She smiled back at him playfully, knowing full well that she had him on the ropes. Now, Barba knew that the alcohol was definitely guiding his thoughts. Maybe his bed wouldn’t be so lonely with her in it. He squashed down the thought as quickly as it appeared; he was not that type of guy. He did not just pick up random women in a bar. No more scotch for a while.

“You alright there, Rafael?” she asked slowly, letting his name dance across her tongue. His attention snapped back to the bar; at some point, the bartender had given her her drink, and he realized that he had been staring at her, mouth slightly open.

“Yeah, sorry. Just had a long day at work,” he replied, taking a sip from his drink. It was low enough now that he could easily pound it and leave if things got any more awkward. He was heavily debating it, debating just getting the hell out of there before either of them made a move.

She nodded, taking a long pull off of her drink, killing half of it in one sip. She swallowed hard, then said, “I know all about long days.” She sat for a second, eyes unfocused, staring at something only she could see. She shook herself, smiling a bit at whatever thought she had before focusing her brown eyes back on his green ones. “Did you want to talk about it?”

Barba thought for what seemed like a long time, at least to him. On one hand, it would be nice to unload some stress onto a stranger. But on the other hand, he was a pretty private man; he didn’t like discussing cases or work with others, especially such a nasty one. Ramirez was one of the worst he’d seen and…wait a minute. It hit him then and he gave the woman a sideways glance; who was this woman? Why did she suddenly appear when he was alone, drinking, and asking him personal questions? Did…did she possibly work for Ramirez? Was she here to threaten him, hurt him…kill him?

Barba pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the blank screen. “Actually,” he started, slamming his drink, “I just got a call I have to take. It was nice meeting you.” He reached into his wallet, grabbed more than enough for his drinks, and dropped the money onto the counter. He didn’t carry any weapons, and he wasn’t much of a fighter. So, he kept his phone in his hand as he gathered his things. He had Liv’s number pulled up so that he could call her if anything happened; it was the only plan he could think of. He gave Devon—if that was her real name—a tight smile before turning and rushing to the door. Just find a cab, just find a cab, he thought. He figured that if there wasn’t one right outside the bar, then he only had to make it the two blocks to the courthouse to find one. There were always taxis on the main roads, and he was hoping that he could outrun the woman, even in his expensive court suit and dress shoes.

He made it outside and took a deep breath. The cold air stung his lungs, but he was used to New York’s frigid nights; it brought his mind back, sobering him up. There were no taxis in sight, so he quickly started to make his way to the main road. He thought he heard footsteps behind him, but he waved it off as being paranoid; no one was after him, surely. This was all an illusion, brought on by stress and adrenaline. But as he passed a dimly lit alley, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was spun around, then felt a hard hit to his cheek. It all happened so fast, he didn’t even catch a glimpse of who hit him, let alone know what hit him. He stumbled backwards towards the alley, dropping his case and his phone. Pure fear rushed through him, and he threw up his arms in a defensive position.

Flanagan’s Bar

Wednesday, January 26th. 9:45pm

Devon waited to make sure that she was right. She watched the man—Rafael—make his hasty exit, then looked over at the two men who were sitting a little way away from her. Just as she thought, they got up, and started to follow Rafael out. She let out a sigh.

As soon as she had come into the bar, she noticed the tension in the room. Those two men, both Hispanic and wearing similar outfits, had been watching Rafael with such disdain that she knew they were there for him. By the look of the two, they were probably apart of the same gang. And by the look of the suit and the scotch that the man at the bar was drinking, he probably worked for the government. Seeing as this was a notorious cop bar, and that two gang members decided to actually stake someone out in it, Devon put her money on police commissioner, or lawyer. Of course, this happens the first night out after a three-year stint in undercover. And of course, there were no cops in sight. In a fucking cop bar. She just wanted to decompress, have a drink and just relax; she may have been back for a week, but she was just finally feeling up for hitting the town again. Though, she did enjoy the short conversation she had with the flustered, yet handsome, man at the bar. If the circumstances were just a little different, a little simpler, maybe they could have helped each other relax. Oh well. Still a chance for that, Devon thought, ignoring the fact that he seemed to freak out, citing a fake phone call to leave abruptly.

She waited for the two men to stand and head towards the door before she, too, stood, pulling out some crumpled bills and paid for her half-drunk drink. By the time she left the bar, the two men were hot on Rafael’s heels, though he didn’t seem to notice—there was a thin layer of snow on the ground that muffled their footsteps slightly. She realized that there was no time to warn him, so she took off after them instead, careful to not slip on the icy ground, silently thankful that she wore her snow boots. She opened her mouth to yell a warning anyways but was too late; the taller of the men grabbed Rafael by the shoulder, turned him, and punched him in the face. Rafael stumbled to the side, into a dark alley, dropping his attaché and phone as he struggled to stay on his feet.

What is this, a tv show? Devon thought. The two men had followed him into the alley by the time Devon caught up with them. Rafael had his arms up in a mock defense position—in reality, he wouldn’t stop a toddler from punching him--and the two men were descending upon him quickly.

“Hey, mind if I join in?” Devon called in a loud voice. Look at me, she practically screamed. The two men whipped around; the one who had not hit Rafael had a pocketknife gripped in his hand. Seeing as he had a weapon, and was closest to Devon, she set her attention on him. He lunged sloppily towards her with the knife—has this guy even held a knife before?—which she easily blocked. She grabbed his wrist and slammed it against one of the brick alley walls, forcing him to drop the knife. She then brought her knee up into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Using his forward momentum, she punched him in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. He fell onto his back, gasping for air. The other man looked to his prone buddy at his feet, then back to Devon, but it was too late; he had left himself open by hesitating. She kicked him in his ribs, sending him into a wall. Then she grabbed his head and slammed it into the wall, not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough that he wasn’t getting back up.

Rafael stood in disbelief, mouth hanging open, dropping his arms to his sides, and looked at the bodies around him, then at Devon. “You alright?” she asked, pulling her coat tightly around her in the cold.

“Y-yeah,” he replied. “Just…just a long day.”

Devon chuckled, then led him out of the alleyway and over to his fallen attaché and phone. She picked them up and handed them to him. “I’m serious, though. Do you need me to take you to the hospital? Or call someone for you?” She grabbed his chin, examining his cheek in the light of the streetlamp.

“No, no, I’m fine.” He pulled out of her grip, cheeks red not entirely from the cold, and looked back to the alley. He ignored the jolt of electricity he felt from the soft touch of her skin. “Should we call an ambulance for them, though? You went a little hard on them.”

“Hard on them? They attacked you, screw them,” she replied, then saw the alarm in his eyes. Right, most people would call for help, even if they attacked him first. “Oh, they’ll be fine. If anything, I should call the cops and have them arrested.” When Rafael didn’t respond, she asked, “why were those guys after you, anyways?”

Devon could see him thinking through his answer carefully. “I think it may be work related,” he finally said.

She didn’t push it; she doubted he’d elaborate anyways. “At least let me walk you to somewhere safer than here.” Rafael didn’t want to voice his objections from the bar, especially after the display in the alley, and so they made their way to the main street, Devon walking a little too close to him. To protect him, she told herself, ignoring the side of her that remarked how attractive this man was. Her heart was still beating fast, though from the fight or from examining his face in the light, she wasn’t sure. She thought about giving him her card with her number on it…for protection…but realized she hadn’t restocked her pockets with them since coming back to New York. Oh well…. Once on the main street, Rafael hailed a cab, and Devon didn’t leave until he had gotten in, thanked her awkwardly, and then disappeared down the street. God, I missed this city, Devon thought. Wish I got in that cab with him, though. Now alone, she headed back to that alley to see if she couldn’t get some answers from the two hitmen. Though, by the time she made it back to the alley, the men were gone, the only sign of them was their footprints all over each other in their scramble to run.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Wednesday, January 26th. 10:37pm

“I’m telling you, they were working for Ramirez. Probably some low-level Aces,” Barba said into his phone. He made it into his loft, had locked the door, and instantly called Olivia. Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew the expression Liv had; worry, concern, and yet hard determination, her Sergeant side taking over.

“I’ll put an unmarked on your block tonight. We may be stretched a little thin here, but I can give you Amaro or Rollins tomorrow morning, then have them switch shifts at lunch,” Liv replied.

“I’ll take the car tonight, though I doubt they will strike again so soon. And I should be safe at the office and courthouse; too many witnesses.” Barba moved to his freezer, taking an ice pack out. His cheek was killing him, and he winced when he put the cold plastic on it. He slowly made his way to the hallway bathroom to examine himself. I can’t believe I got sucker punched….

“I can have a detective escort you to and from work, keep the uni’s there at night.”

Liv always had an answer for everything. But Barba was never a man to live in fear; he figured that he could simply carry pepper spray or a stun gun and be fine. Now that he knew the Aces were after him, he wouldn’t get jumped again. Plus, Olivia was going to have every precinct after this gang; they’d be rounded up in no time. “I’ll be fine, Liv.”

He could hear her winding up for an argument, one he was determined not to lose. Perhaps sensing this, Liv blew out a long breath. “I’ll have Amaro there, first thing in the morning. Please, for my sake, take the ride.”

Barba sighed. “Fine, but I don’t need a babysitter while at work.” She reluctantly agreed—he had a point about too many witnesses--then said her goodbyes before hanging up. Barba looked into the mirror in his bathroom, gently fingering the bruised skin under his right eye. There was no covering it—he didn’t know how anyways—so that would be some awkward conversations tomorrow. Hopefully he could glare hard enough that no one would ask. He put the icepack back on the spot, wincing again at the pain. He had no idea how he was going to sleep tonight. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, especially after recounting the event to Liv. He also wished that he had thanked Devon more—she may not have realized it, but she most likely just saved his life. But one question kept coming back, swimming through the thoughts racing through his mind: who was that woman?

Apartment of Devon Motely

Thursday, January 27th. 7:08am

Devon woke up after a much-needed deep sleep, one she hadn’t had for years. There was nothing quite like sleeping in your own bed to make you feel refreshed. She had been out-of-state for three years, in the life of a made-up woman, in a house that was not hers, talking to people she didn’t know. And while the FBI had people come in a day before she was home, to clean all the dust off the furniture and wash the sheets, it was still weird to be somewhere “new.” There was a peacefulness she gained from being in her home—not just an apartment, but home—but it was still a little jarring coming back to reality. Not to mention the three-hour time difference between here in New York, and where she had been in California. Her sleep schedule in California wasn’t normal, but it made NYC seem a little better; waking up at 7am meant she was a go-getter…just ignore the fact that a week ago, that was 4am. She has spent the whole week home attempting to stay awake later, but it wasn’t happening; she slept when it was dark out, and with the city’s tall buildings, nighttime was earlier than that of the sunny West Coast.

Devon had already spent a couple months with the Fed’s shrink, both in the California branch and her home doctor, and was cleared to work. But her boss knew better, giving her three more months to decompress and return to normal. Not that she was complaining; she had never been undercover for that long before, and it took a bigger toll on her than she thought it would. The hardest part about getting back to normal was picking up her gym routine again; the first day was hell. She wasn’t out-of-shape, but she was definitely out of gym shape. And at first, she was happy when the first day was over, the burn a reminder of where she could grow. That happiness disappeared on the second day of gym. After this week, though, Devon was glad to find her body getting back into the motion of things.

After a long shower, she made her way to her closet. Even after a week of being back, she was still excited to put on some of her own clothes again; her last alias had a decent sense of style but was definitely not her. The college student’s style was oversized hoodies, too-tight shirts, and skinny jeans, while the Madam’s style was skimpy dresses and heavy makeup. Devon’s style, however, was practical; you never know when you may have to kick some ass—as evident with the events from the night before--or deal with a hostage situation. She almost always wore loose-fitting jeans, strong but mobile, and plain, scoop-neck shirts that fit perfectly; low enough to show a hint of cleavage--if only she had a dollar for every perp that hesitated from such a small distraction as a hint of skin--but comfortable enough to run, jump, climb, or whatever else her job required of her. She knew that she fit society’s standards of beauty, but as long as that was true, then it was a weapon she could use to her advantage.

While happy for her own home and clothes, nothing made her more excited than having her personal phone back. She couldn’t risk taking it with her last case—she was given a cell phone for her cover--so she had left it behind. But when she had come back from her trip, she found that couldn’t turn it back on. After a day of fidgeting with it, she had no other choice than to ask for help. Because it had sensitive information on it, she could only ask the FBI techs to fix it for her, something that was not high on the list of priorities for them. She only picked it up last night, after the bar fight—alley fight?—and was too tired to bother with it. Now, she held the power button, smiling as the screen turned on. It wasn’t like she was expecting much in terms of texts or calls; she only had a couple friends, friends who had known she was going undercover, but she wanted to meet up with them immediately to catch up, maybe even warn them about the man who was jumped last night. Even though her boss, Assistant Director Thomas Jenkins, gave her time off, she knew that 1) her boredom would quickly take over and 2) she’d get dragged into something anyways. She always did, especially with her friends being SVU detectives.

Her phone finally loaded, and she noticed that she had two unread texts. Curious, she clicked on them. They were both from the same person; Detective Olivia Benson. She opened them, read them, then sat for a moment, trying to figure out her emotions.

Happy Birthday! sent January 1, 2011 12:00am

I know you’re undercover and won’t see this until much later, but I wish you were here right now. I really need to talk to you. Elliot is gone. sent August 26, 2011 3:08am

The first text pulled on Devon’s heartstrings; she had forgotten how a simple birthday message could make her feel cared about—it was a rare enough occurrence. But that second message made her feel such a heavy amount of confusion, guilt, and sadness. She wasn’t here for her best friend when she needed her most, whether undercover or not. If she had known, she would have called instantly. And what did she mean Elliot is gone? Did he retire? Did he finally transfer out of SVU? Or was it worse; was he killed on the job? Devon clicked the dial button, determined to talk to Liv.

The phone only rang once. “Dev? Is that really you?” was Olivia’s greeting, her voice surprised and hopeful.

“Hey Olivia. Yeah, it’s me. I’m back in town. Can we meet up?” Devon thought it better to talk in person about this, seeing as the text was from over two years ago, barely a year into her UC case.

“Of course. Why don’t you come down to the precinct?”

“I’ll be there in 10,” Devon replied. She hung up and looked around her room. She had a grip that she tended to keep stocked with clothes and essentials, just in case. After waffling about it, she decided to take it with her—if Stabler really was killed, she’d make sure the bastard paid, if Liv hadn’t beaten her to it. She had packed it the day after arriving home, so it was ready to go except for one thing. She grabbed her work laptop and charger, and threw them in the grip before zipping it closed. Last but not least, she grabbed her badge, gun, and her throwing knife that she strapped to the outside of her left thigh—ol’ reliable, as she liked to call it.

SVU Department

Thursday, January 27th. 9:30am

As predicted, it took Devon 9 minutes to get to the 16th precinct, and another minute to make it to SVU. The officers gave her alarmed looks when they saw her with her bulging grip thrown over her shoulder. She flashed her badge but was still shocked when no one attempted to apprehend her; she didn’t recognize any of the officers, but maybe Olivia gave them a head’s up. She took a breath once in the SVU precinct, her shoulders relaxing—a second home when she was in New York. She looked to Liv’s desk, but noticed a man with dark hair sitting there. Noticing her stare, he looked up.

“May I help you?” he asked. Instead of answering, Devon looked at the desk that should’ve been Stabler’s, but saw that it was empty, leaving a heaviness in the pit of her stomach. Now feeling unsettled, she looked to Munch’s desk but saw a blonde woman giving Devon an equally confused look. She vaguely noticed the man reaching for his gun.

“Holy shit, Devon?” a familiar voice said. Devon turned to see Fin coming from the coffeemaker, cup in hand.

Devon felt the tension melt away. “Wow, Fin. I leave for three years and you guys change the whole force?”

He pulled her in for an awkward, half-hug, shocking the other detectives, and said, “it is good to see you, Dev. I thought we may have lost another one.”

By this time, the not-Stabler and not-Munch came over. “Uh, I’m Detective Nick Amaro, and this is Detective Amanda Rollins,” the man said, extending his hand.

Devon shook both of their hands. “I’m Senior Special Agent Devon Motely,”—she saw Fin’s eyebrows raise at the new title—"and as fun as it is to catch up and meet new people, I’m actually here to see Detective Benson.”

“You mean Sergeant Benson,” Fin corrected.

“Sergeant? Now this I gotta see,” Devon said, smiling broadly.

As if on cue, Olivia Benson came out of the captain’s office. “Devon Motely. It is so good to see you.”

Devon pulled away from the other detectives and made her way to Olivia. She gave her a big hug, saying “it’s good to see you, too. Can we talk in private?” Devon could still feel the other detective’s gazes on her back, hear their murmuring.

“Of course,” Liv said. But instead of going to one of the interrogation rooms, as per usual, she led Devon into the office. Devon saw that the décor had changed since the last time she was there, but the biggest change was that the plaque on the desk didn’t say Captain Cragen, but instead read Sgt. Olivia Benson.

“Cragen is gone, too? This is your office?” Devon blurted out. Olivia closed the door behind her, then went to sit behind the desk, motioning Devon to sit across from her.

“Cragen is gone,” she confirmed. “And Munch, and Elliot, too.” She then spent the next hour detailing everything that had happened to the three officers. Devon was relieved to hear that all were still alive, just retired. Again, she felt a pang of guilt and wished that she was there to help them through all the craziness that Olivia outlined. Though she was an FBI agent, Devon had a soft spot for the SVU team; she helped them whenever she could with things that were too…much for the four detectives and captain. Then, Liv started on what she had been going through, recounting her troubles with William Lewis, her relationship with detective Cassidy, their bad luck with ADA’s—“though, we have a good one, now. Hopefully he stays on”—and ended on a short, but informative, description of both of the new detectives.

Devon listened intently, and once she was done talking, she sat in silence for a moment, taking everything in. Her guilt was mounting new heights; while she was fucking around in California, her best friend was going through some of the worst experiences of her life. Then, she asked in a low voice, “do you want me to deal with Lewis?”

Olivia caught her meaning, shaking her head. “No, no, it’s fine. He’s not an issue anymore; he’ll be in jail for life.”

Devon nodded. “That just makes it easier to get rid of him. If you ever want me to, I want to be your first call.”

Ignoring what Devon just implied, Liv changed the subject. “So, tell me about your adventures in San Francisco.” Devon’s demeanor changed from plotting murder to one of exhaustion. She let out a sigh, then recounted her three-year UC case in California. She had been posing as a college student by day, and a Madam at night. She worked her way through parties meeting girls, then pimps, then finally, the pimp’s bosses. She felt terrible about the things she had to do; selling girls, drugs, and much worse. She was happy to be back here, where she didn’t have to fake having an interest in those types of things, where she could just arrest the bastards instead of joining them.

“So, when I turned on my phone today, I saw your text. I know that it was from a while ago, and that you are probably over it by now, but I thought I’d still check in on you,” Devon concluded. In her retelling of the last three years, she had completely forgotten about the attractive man in a suit at the bar the night before.

A wave of emotions flashed through Olivia’s eyes, though she kept her face mostly neutral. “You know, I felt terrible about sending that text to you. I knew you didn’t have your phone, and in a moment of—of emotional weakness, I sent it. And it’s not fair to you that I did that. But at the time, I thought that maybe, just maybe, you were able to see it and talk to me, to help me through that time. To let me vent and talk, even if you couldn’t reply, but just to have someone listen.” Olivia had tears in her eyes, which she quickly blinked away. “I also meant to text you again, but any time I opened our conversation, I would see that last message I sent. And I’d feel the guilt all over again.”

Feeling emotional herself, Devon replied, “I’m not mad or upset; I get it Liv, I really do.” Devon put her hands on the desk, palms up. Olivia placed her hands gently into Devon’s, and the agent started rubbing comforting circles into the back of Liv’s hands with her thumbs. “And I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me most. It must have been so, so hard for you to lose Stabler after so long. Do you keep in touch with him at all?”

Liv shook her head. “No, no. In the beginning, I thought about it. At night, when I couldn’t sleep, or when a nightmare would rip me awake before dawn. But I knew that it was for the best, for both of us, to just…cut all ties to him.”

Devon let the silence drag on for a little, continuing to rub little circles in the Sergeant’s skin, letting the conversation rest. “Well, I’m back for the foreseeable future. And I got promoted. And my boss even gave me three months off, if you can believe that!” she let out a laugh, trying to break the tension. They released each other’s hands, the moment over. “Plus, look at you! A Sergeant, and in the big boss’s office, no less.”

Liv smiled and opened her mouth to answer, when her phone lit up, vibrating on her desk. “Benson,” she answered, holding up a finger to Devon. Devon waited patiently while whoever was on the other line talked her ear off. “What? When?” Liv waited a second, “okay, I’ll be right there. I think I have someone that you should meet,” her eyes locked with Devon’s, “just stay there.” With that, she hung up, rubbed her temples for a moment, then got up and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair.

Devon stood up quickly. “What happened? Everything okay?”

“Uh, about that time off that your boss gave you—”

Devon cut her off, “what do you need me for?” Devon was nothing if not loyal.

Olivia smirked. “How about a 24/7 protection detail, overseeing a sarcastic, pain-in-the-ass that we lovingly call our ADA?”

Devon had a rush of thoughts in the matter of seconds—spending 24/7 with someone she didn’t know, on alert at all waking hours, her exhaustion since just getting home, plus Olivia’s description of the victim—but she still said, “whatever you need.” She was glad to help Liv, especially to make up for the past three years, whether Liv thought Devon needed to make up for lost time or not. And with the sudden rush of adrenaline, she could feel her exhaustion ebbing away. Plus, what else were friends for?

“Thank you so much. Come on, I’ll explain everything on the way.”

Courthouse

Thursday, January 27th. 11:16am

As Olivia, Devon, and Detective Amaro, who was grabbed on the way out, pulled up to the courthouse, Devon summarized the conversation of the car ride. “So, let me get this straight; you and Rollins took down a gang leader, with this ADA Barba, pushing him into jail for life, and now the gang has a target on all of your backs? No offense, but why not just let me take down the gang instead of posting me up with an attorney?” She grabbed her grip out of the trunk and followed Liv and Amaro to the stairs.

Liv scoffed. “Because Barba was attacked in a crowded courthouse, with unis posted at every door, and yet someone was able to sneak in, armed with a pistol, and take aim at our ADA.” Liv saw that Devon was gearing up to argue more, but she cut her off, “look, we’re all covered at SVU; we already have leads on some of the big hitters in the Aces. And it would really help if I had someone that I could trust watching Barba so that I, or any of the other detectives, don’t have to.” She had a point, so Devon kept her mouth shut. Olivia wasn’t one to suggest things of importance without a reason.

They made their way up the stairs, past the cops that were mulling around, talking about whatever they were talking about, and into the courthouse. The crime scene wasn’t hard to find; it was roped off with caution tape and there were cops everywhere. Devon looked at the wall next to where they were congregating and saw two bullet holes in the concrete. She noticed a couple things at once; no blood, no EMTs, no CSU, which all adds up to no victim. Good, the perp missed his target—no doubt this ADA Barba that Liv was having Devon watch. Devon knew that he was alive—Olivia wouldn’t have brought her to watch him if he wasn’t here—but no one else was injured, either.

“What happened here?” Amaro asked an officer. He gave him a rundown of the facts; a young, white man walked towards Barba while he was on his way to court. He reached into his pocket; unis saw him as he raised the gun. One cop yelled a warning, tackling Barba out of the way, while the other cop on the door took down the man. He got two shots off but missed his mark, striking the wall. The cops arrested him and escorted Barba to his office down the street to await Liv’s arrival after he was cleared from EMTs; no injuries besides a bruised ego.

Gaining all the information they needed, Devon followed the sergeant and detective out, then down the street to 1 Hogan Place. Once inside the DA’s building, they made their way to the elevator. As the doors closed, Devon asked Liv, “hey, are you and Rollins safe? Are you sure there’s not a hit out on you, too?”

“Neither of us have been alone since Barba was attacked earlier. We’re not taking any chances on this one. This is why I need someone I can trust watching Barba; I can’t spare any manpower on it, and god knows we don’t need the Feds tied up in this.” Well, that explained Amaro hovering over Liv’s shoulder, like a bodyguard.

Devon sighed, “yeah, I hear you. But I want to be kept in the loop; names, faces, tattoos, anything and everything. I want to be able to pick out one of these jerks before they have a shot at Barba.”

“Of course,” Liv replied. The elevator doors opened, and they briskly walked to Barba’s office. There were four cops posted outside the door, which was shut. Liv nodded first to the frazzled-looking paralegal seated at her desk, then to the officers, and they moved to allow the three of them in.

“Barba, are you alright?” Liv asked when she saw him, pacing in front of his desk restlessly.

“I’m fine. But I want that bastard arraigned today, and then I have a case that I’m late for already, but these idiots aren’t letting me leave. I need to—” Barba’s outburst was cut short when he saw Devon, who also froze.

Following his line of sight, Liv said, “right, ADA Rafael Barba, this is Senior Special Agent Devon Motely. Devon, this is Barba.”

Barba swallowed past the lump in his throat, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, we’ve met before,” he said, eyes never leaving Devon’s.

It was Amaro’s turn to speak. He grinned in disbelief, “what? When?”

“Last night. In a dingy bar and then again in a dark alley,” Devon answered, making Amaro’s eyebrows raise. If she wasn’t still in such shock, she would’ve shot him a glare.

Liv’s eyes widened. “You’re the one that stopped those men from assaulting Barba? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“One, I didn’t know that was the ‘earlier attack’ you mentioned until just now. And two, he introduced himself as Rafael. I didn’t know his last name or his profession,” Devon explained, before muttering, “glad to see I was already doing this job before I knew it.”

Barba took this time to mentally collect himself, finally ripping his eyes away from the agent and furrowing his brow at Olivia. “Job, what job?”

Liv looked back to him. “Look Barba, I know that last night, you denied having protection. But after this, you need to have someone watching your back.”

“No, I don’t need a babysitter watching me, especially FBI. Why are the Feds even getting involved—”

“Barba look around! You were almost shot outside of a courtroom. You got lucky that he missed. You are going to have protection until this is over,” Olivia ordered.

Barba scoffed. “Over? Do you think that this is just going to go away in a day or two? That if you arrest one or two of these bastards that they’ll back off? I’m not living in fear, Olivia.”

“I know, I know,” Liv adopted her calm, quiet voice that she used with victims, “but I’m not letting you get killed over this. Devon is good; she’s willing to stay for the long haul.”

“Can you not talk about me like I’m not here, please?” Devon piped in. Barba rolled his eyes and plopped down behind his desk, running his hands through his hair roughly, while Liv huffed out a heavy sigh and Amaro stood to the side awkwardly, watching this all play out. “Look, I may just be the ‘babysitter,’ but I’m not working as FBI for this. This is a favor for Liv. Besides, I’ve done this before. Barba, you have nothing to worry about; I’ll be a shadow. You don’t need to talk to me, you don’t need to look at me, you don’t even need to acknowledge that I’m there. I’ll just be your bodyguard.”

“I. Don’t. Need. A bodyguard,” he said through gritted teeth. He slammed his hands down on his desk in frustration, exhaling through flared nostrils.

Liv and Devon exchanged a look. Liv nodded. Perfect, play hardball, Devon’s favorite.

“Fine, I’ll say this in terms you will understand, counselor. As Sergeant Benson said, I am good; you saw that last night. So, whether you like it or not, you will be under my protection until Sergeant Benson says otherwise. You may try, but you will not be able to lose me. I’m going to stay on you, make sure you are protected from all attacks, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” Barba opened his mouth, but Devon pressed on, “now, you can make this easier on yourself. Allow me to do my job, allow me to help you, and I will be as I said before, a shadow. Or fight me on this, and I’ll be the biggest thorn in your side. It’s up to you, Mr. Barba.”

Barba gave an impressive glare, aimed at Liv before turning those bright green eyes onto Devon. He seemed to be working through his thoughts, debating on if this fight was worth it. Apparently, it wasn’t, because he huffed angrily and spat out, “fine. But as soon as this is over, I better never see you again.”

“Deal,” Devon said, smirking.

Liv grinned, looking slightly amused, glancing at the both of them. “Well, I’m glad that’s taken care of. Keep me updated.” Still sporting matching smirks, Amaro and Olivia turned to leave, the latter shooting Devon an apologetic smile. Thanks, Liv, she thought ruefully, wondering if she bit off more than she could chew this time.

Once alone, Devon looked at Barba, who had his head in his hands. “Would you like me to sit across from you, or against the wall behind you?”

Barba didn’t even look up from his desk that he was currently staring a hole through. “I thought I didn’t have to talk to you?”

“And I thought you had a court appointment?” She shot back, shrugging out of her jacket easily, tossing it to the couch, making herself at home.

Barba looked up then. He looked at Devon, really looked, as if he hadn’t seen her yet. She was just as beautiful as she was last night; she was tall, fit, well dressed. In the light of day, he could see the corded muscle in her arms and neck. But her image was tainted in his mind now; he didn’t want someone having to watch his back, even if it was a logical move, something he wouldn’t admit. He knew that Liv had his best interests in mind, and he did feel slightly safer having an FBI agent assigned to him, not that he would admit it out loud. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman had somehow betrayed him. Even if she had saved him the night before, these attacks didn’t happen until she showed up into his life. Which wasn’t fair to her—it was because of the Aces and Ramirez, Barba knew—but he couldn’t separate the events in his mind.

“I got a text from the judge during your…speech. It got pushed to tomorrow, 9am.”

Devon thought for a moment before asking, “do you have any more court appearances today? Or any meetings?”

“No. I plan on being here in my office the rest of the day, prepping the four cases I now have tomorrow.” With that, Barba pulled out some paperwork and a couple of law books. Taking the hint that the conversation was over, Devon pulled one of the chairs from in front of his desk and pushed it to the side of his desk, enough space between it and the desk that she’d be directly in Barba’s blind spot. Before sitting, however, she walked over to the windows and pulled down the blinds, making the office a bit darker, but making it so no one could look in—even though they weren’t on the ground level, Devon didn’t want any unwanted attention from surrounding buildings. She looked at the closed door, seeing that the unis from earlier were still posted outside; four of them, two on each side. She wondered how long they’d stay before they made excuses to leave. Satisfied, she walked back to the chair she had moved and took a seat.

Devon looked sideways at Barba, trying to figure him out; he seemed like just a normal dude last night, albeit a little awkward, flustered even. A normal dude in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, though, she wasn’t so sure. He had an explosive anger—though that was a pretty normal reaction that people had when they had a bodyguard forced onto them, let alone a couple attempts on their life—but going by the fight, or lack thereof, he was all bark and no bite. But she couldn’t be sure of that, either. She had met previous ADAs that worked with SVU. And while Devon wouldn’t exactly call them fighters in the physical sense, they did know their way around a courtroom. And if Olivia liked him, then she was sure that Barba probably wasn’t that bad of a guy…and he also probably knew how to win convictions as well.

Devon then wondered how she had gotten here. Two weeks ago, she was in California; she was working as a madam, working her way through the ranks up a huge sex trafficking ring. Two weeks ago, she was pinning down a high-ranking trafficker, one in charge of bringing in all the girls for eight different brothels. Two weeks ago, the madam was arrested, as was almost everyone involved in the trafficking and brothels, and Devon was snuck out of the state.

Last week, she was in therapy, spilling everything that had happened, and her feelings on the matter, to a therapist, who actually deemed her as “mentally sound” after only four days. And then, she was back in New York. She had done her normal prep after getting home; she had a debrief with her boss, a check in with the shrink here, she unpacked and repacked her two-week grip, she dismantled, cleaned, and reassembled her guns—her normal glock and her drop gun--and she sharpened her knives. She went to get a drink, something that was denied to her for over three years, and something that she needed so that she could simply relax for the first time since she left. Then that man, sitting right in front of her, was at the bar. He was trouble; she knew from the moment she walked in and saw those two men—Aces—targeting him. But just how much trouble, she had no idea. She got into a fight, if you can call it that, and then heard how her best friend’s entire life had basically completely changed. And now, she was ripped out of her life before it even got a chance to be normal again.

“If you have a question, just ask, instead of staring at me the whole time you’re here,” Barba said dryly.

Devon started; she didn’t even notice she was staring. She cleared her throat. “I do have a question, actually.” Barba stopped scribbling, putting his pen down and looked at her, mildly annoyed. “Has your home been compromised?”

He sighed, picking his pen back up and looking at the notepad once more, clearly not taking her seriously. “Not as far as I’m aware.”

“Okay, that’s good. Even so, we should think about it as if it has been. There’re three options; one, we stay at your place with some extra precautions. Two, I set up a third-party place, like a hotel; don’t worry about cost, I’ll cover it. Or three, we stay at my place.” Barba raised an eyebrow. “Keep your mind out of the gutter; I have a guest room and two bathrooms. I also have extra security on my doors and windows that I had installed.”

“I’d rather stay in my own home, thank you,” he replied, not catching the fact that she had said ‘we.’ He continued writing, clearly done with the conversation. Smiling to herself, Devon pulled her laptop out of her grip and opened it. This ADA was headstrong, like most ADAs assigned to SVU, but she already liked him for some reason. She wasn’t sure why quite yet, but she learned to trust the instinct. Once connected to the internet, she got started on her own work.

Office of Rafael Barba

1 Hogan Place

Thursday, January 27th. 9:15pm

By the time Barba had finished for the night, well, as much as he was going to do, it was dark outside. He looked at the clock, sighing at the late time; he always tried to be out of the office by 7 at the latest, but time had gotten away from him, especially since his mind was rattled. It was harder to focus on the cases after everything that had happened the past two days, plus the extra day he was granted for the case that was pushed just made him more stressed. He sighed again, feeling the pressure that tomorrow would be. Then, he cleared his desk, pushing papers into his briefcase in an order that only he understood. He stood and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. He heard the sound of a laptop closing and jumped, startled.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Devon said, placing her laptop in her bag and zipping it up. How did he forget that she was there?

“Sorry, I forgot you were checking Facebook all day,” he replied, rolling his eyes, trying to slow his racing heart. It was only a laptop closing. Get a grip on yourself, he thought, chiding himself. Devon slung her grip over her shoulder but said nothing, a small smile on her lips. Barba put on his jacket and walked to the door. Devon was there instantly; she gently put her hand on his stomach and nudged him away from the door. Barba rolled his eyes again, annoyed at the theatrics, as she opened the door, checking every direction for anything out of the ordinary. The unis that were posted had long since left, as had Carmen; the building was empty, silent. Devon had her gun drawn and motioned for Barba to follow her.

“Is this all necessary?” he asked sardonically. Even with his tone, however, he stuck close to her.

“Honestly? Probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful,” she replied. They made their way quickly through the DA’s building, Devon checking every corner and hallway, Barba thinking it ridiculous, over-the-top. “Did you drive here, by the way? Or should I order a rideshare?”

“I was dropped off by Detective Amaro this morning,” Barba said. “Seems Olivia doesn’t want me to be alone since last night.”

“I’d ask why Amaro didn’t stay with you, but if your outburst from earlier is any indication, I think I know the answer.”

Barba bristled, but said nothing. They both made it in and out of the elevator, then to the double doors leading outside. Devon stopped him, opened the door a smidge, and examined outside. After a moment, she opened the door wider, slipping out, but still motioning for Barba to stay put. Huffing, he opened the other door and walked out into the brisk night air, making his way to the street.

“Fucking really?” Devon asked, hurrying to catch up to him. There were no immediate dangers around, just a few stragglers walking down the darken streets, so Devon pointed her gun to the ground, more discreet this way.

“Come on Motely, you’ve seen how unorganized the Aces’ have been in their attempts on my life. I highly doubt there would be one waiting outside the DA’s building, especially this late. Probably got too bored waiting for me to come out.”

Devon made it to the curb, hailing a cab, thinking it safer and faster than waiting for a rideshare. As one pulled over to admit them, she said, “they’ve failed twice now, attacking you while you were at a bar and while you were in the courthouse. Honestly, they may be getting angrier or worse, desperate. So yes, I will expect them outside your place of work, along with at your home, the grocery store you shop at, and any other place you may frequent, no matter what time it is.” They both got in, Devon forcing Barba to sit behind the taxi driver—harder for the driver to attack directly behind himself—while she took the other backseat. “Besides, I’d rather be safe than sorry. And I think Liv may actually kill me if you were to get hurt on my watch.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with,” he smirked. Barba knew he was being difficult, and he wasn’t entirely sure why; there had been two attempts on his life in two days, one that left an angry red mark on his face that everyone was too smart, or scared, to ask about, and another that still makes his heart beat faster when he thinks of it, the sound of the gunshots still echoing in his mind. Now that he had time to sit and think about it, he thought that his anger was a mix of stress from his job—he was doing four cases at once, two of which were tough cases to begin with—and a fear that someone actually took a hit out on him. He’d been an ADA for over a decade; he’s gotten multiple threats, everything from violence to him and/or his family to death threats. But this was the first time someone had actually tried to follow through with it. He sighed, deciding to not take his emotional outrage out on Motely; it wasn’t her fault that she got lumped into this. He had to check his rage, especially now when any mistake could be the difference between living his life and being six feet under.

“Can you give me a quick layout of your place?” Devon asked, jolting Barba out of his thoughts. He agreed, spending the rest of the drive filling in the broad details of his loft; it was smaller than he would like, to be honest, but it was cheaper and close to the courthouse. He had a full floor to himself; a living room, kitchen, two bathrooms—though one was a master bathroom connected to the master bedroom—and two bedrooms. There were only windows in the living room and the master bedroom, the fire escape outside the bedroom window.

The cab pulled to the curb; Devon paid the driver, then followed Barba up the couple steps to the glass door of the building. He opened it, and she followed him in, to the elevator, then down the short hallway to the front door of his loft. She allowed him to unlock the door and walk into the living room before stopping him. She took off her grip and placed it on a couch—there was only a loveseat and an armchair around a coffee table--locked the front door, then unholstered her gun once more.

“Anything out of place?” she asked, not looking at him but rather looking down the hallway to the master bedroom, watching the dark doors lining the walls. There wasn’t much to check in the living room; besides the couch, chair, and table, Barba had a simple TV stand with a TV on it, two bookshelves side-by-side, filled mostly with law books and other scholarly literature he kept from college, and a few, minimalistic wall art hangings. He wasn’t a home designer, and he was hardly home as it was, so he never felt the need to decorate. Once he declined, Devon said, “okay good. Now, place your whole hand on my back, and do not remove it until I say so.” Barba opened his mouth to ask, decided against it, and did as she asked.

Once Devon felt his strong hand lay hesitantly between her shoulder blades, the warmth of his skin sinking through the fabric of her shirt, she started to move through the loft. Barba missed a step, not expecting her to move. He then followed, hand staying on her muscular back. She checked every room, gun aimed at chest height, looking in the closets and under the bed, before ending in the master bedroom, announcing that the home was cleared and reholstering her gun.

“You can have your hand back,” she said while checking the locks on the windows.

“May I ask why I did that?” he asked, dropping his hand to his side. He could still feel the pull of her muscles moving under her shirt, even though he was no longer touching her. He stripped his suit jacket and tie, placed them on a hanger, and hung them on his closet door. Normally, he took it off by the front door and threw it over a chair, but something about having a guest over, especially one he didn’t know, made him want to not look like a total disaster. Though, he noticed with a hint of embarrassment, Devon did go through the guest bedroom, if you could call it that, during her sweep. That room had become a second office to Barba; it was a mess of files, papers, books, and other miscellaneous things that made no sense to anyone except Barba, though he wasn’t even sure what some of it was. There was no bed, no dressers, nothing that actually made it a bedroom. Only a small desk and a lonely desk lamp.

Devon gave him a look that said, just do what you’re told, before explaining. “Because I’ve found that it’s the easiest way to protect someone while also scanning a home. If you go in front of me, you have a chance of being assaulted if there is someone here. Likewise, if I abandoned you by the door, someone could blitz you while I’m back in the master room. It just makes sense to have you touching me, so I know you’re safe while I’m also a human shield.”

Barba didn’t want to know how many times she had failed to protect someone to have found out this method of protection. Seemingly approving of the locks on the bedroom windows, Devon moved to other rooms in the house, checking for ways to break in. Thankfully, his loft was on the 5th floor, so besides the fire escape, there wasn’t a real way to break in—unless he had some very, very determined hitman after him. After checking all the windows, she went to the front door. Unlocking it, she checked the hallway quickly before looking at the locking mechanism in the door; it had a normal deadbolt and a chain near eyelevel. There was also a peephole; otherwise, it was a normal door. She huffed when she noticed the screws holding the hinges on.

“Did you honestly move in here without changing at least the screws in the door?” she admonished.

Barba never thought about it before. “Uh, yes?” Devon shook her head.

“You should install some thicker, longer screws; makes it harder to kick your door down.” Devon then rummaged through her grip, pulling out a doorstop.

“A doorstop? Really? That will protect us if someone kicks the door down?”

Devon rolled her eyes. “Of course not. This is a screaming doorstop; once armed, if this door moves at all, that alarm will wake up the whole damn building.”

Barba looked impressed. “Why the hell do you even know about a device like that?”’

Devon laughed, “I may be an FBI agent, but I’m still a woman. Damsel in Defense is a god-send for living as a woman in the city.”

Grabbing the doorstop, she flipped a switch on it, then wedged it under the door. She then glanced at the clock on her phone, noticing it was getting close to 10pm. “Hey, it’s getting kinda late; what time do you normally go to bed?” she asked, realizing that neither of them had had dinner.

Barba looked at his watch, seemingly also unaware of the passage of time. He had to be in court at 9, which meant he had to be in his office at 7 tomorrow morning and now he was faced with the decision that he had almost every night; stay awake and work on his upcoming cases or get a decent night of sleep. He almost always chose the former, he’d just get a strong coffee or three before court tomorrow. But another part of him was desperate to be alone with his thoughts, to really absorbed the events happening in his life right now. Maybe he’d work for a little bit, then figure out a polite way to kick Motely out for the night, something he very much knew he’d fail at.

“It varies, but it’ll probably be around midnight for me tonight…hopefully,” he debated for a moment before saying, “I’m not planning on leaving at all tonight if you wanted to go sleep for a little. I’m leaving here at six tomorrow morning.”

Completely missing the hint, Devon replied, “ah, no worries. I normally go to sleep around that time, too. You won’t be bothering me at all.” To prove her point, she pulled out her laptop, plugged it in to the wall, and sat down in the armchair with it. Feeling like that was a failure to dislodge her, but unwilling to try again at this moment, Barba sighed. He pulled out the paperwork he was doing in his office, and spread it over the coffee table, taking a seat on the couch.

They worked silently for a couple hours before Barba spoke without looking up. “What are you even doing on that laptop?” As focused as he had been on his casework, the constant clicking of keys as Devon typed crept into his brain.

Devon gave him a wicked grin before she replied, “Facebook, remember?” When Barba shot back a glare, she huffed out a laugh. “I’m looking through the FBI’s database on the Aces. I want to know everything I can about them, seeing as I may have to deal with a couple of them in the coming months.”

“What have you found?” he asked, his paperwork completely forgotten. He got up, came over to the armchair, and sat on an arm, leaning in so that he could see the screen. Devon had the leader—Jorge Ramirez—on the screen, with a quick summation of his profile. She also had the two men from the alley and the man that took a shot at Barba today, whose name was Jake Peterson. He couldn’t help but notice that the two men from the alley, Jose and Rogelio Olivera, both had AT LARGE written in their profiles.

“Well, it’s a relatively small gang based in Manhattan; only 65 members, at least on file. Most are Hispanic, drug dealers, and traffickers...seems like their leader, Ramirez, was the bad one. Probably why he was the leader. Though, they do have a couple of white men hired on as frontmen; they’re the ones that sell drugs to the wealthy businessmen because, and I quote, ‘white men are more trustworthy to the rich bastards.’” They looked at each other, “hey, don’t look at me, I didn’t write it. But it makes sense; most capitalist pigs are deeply racist.”

“65 members, though? You’re right, that is small, but it will still take the cops time to catch them all,” the unsaid words hung in the air, tangible, but not claimed, it’s going to take a while for life to go back to normal.

“So far, only two are incarcerated, Jorge Ramirez and Jake Peterson. Looking through the profiles that I can pull up, it seems like only a few of them have actually murdered before, but not as an active profession. Not to get too cocky, but I think that’s a good sign for you; I should be able to take on anyone who threatens you. Unless, of course, you decide that you want to go wherever you want instead of listening to me.”

Barba flinched inwardly at the slight venom in her voice. He had to work on controlling that spite of his. “You’re right,” he said begrudgingly. “From now on, I’ll follow your lead.” He looked down at her, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

She looked up at him, returning the smile. “That’s all I can ask of you. I know it’s not an ideal situation, but I am here to help.” They sat there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. Maybe protecting the ADA wouldn’t be too bad, maybe this wouldn’t drive a wedge between her’s and Liv’s friendship. And maybe, just maybe, they’d both get out alive at the end of this.

Barba looked into her eyes, lit by her laptop’s screen. He could listen to her, follow orders, like the good lapdog people wished he would be. He knew, deep down, that she was there to protect him; even if it was a ‘favor’ from Olivia, he could tell that Devon’s job meant a lot to her, that she was taking this seriously. He’d have to remember to thank Liv later, if he survived this. He suddenly realized that he didn’t want Devon to leave tonight; he felt safe here, in her presences.

They both seemed to notice at the same time how they were sitting; Barba had been leaning down closer to her face, and she was leaning closer to his leg, cheek almost brushing against his pantleg. He stood up, hiding the blush that spread across his cheeks as he noticed how close to his crotch she had been, how inappropriate it was. She sat up a little straighter and seemed to find her screen very interesting all of a sudden.

“Well, I think it’s about time I went to bed,” Barba said, stretching. He packed up all the papers into appropriate folders and placed them in his briefcase, so that he wouldn’t forget them in the morning.

“That’s probably a good idea. What time do you get up? Do you eat breakfast, have coffee? Anything I can help with?”

Barba was surprised by the questions. “Uh, around 5:00, no, no, and no.” Once he collected his thoughts a little, he explained, “I get up, I shower, I dress. Then I leave.”

“Simple, I like it. See you in the morning,” Devon trilled.

Confused, Barba didn’t move as Devon closed her laptop and put it on the table. She then stretched herself out on the loveseat, as much as she could since it was shorter than she was, putting her head on one of the pillows he kept on it.

“I—I take it you’re staying here tonight?” Barba asked, incredulous at her brazenness.

“Uh, yeah? You heard Sergeant Benson, I’m sure; ‘24/7 protection.’ That includes overnights, Barba.”

He felt the weight of those words; he was seriously going to be with this stranger all day, every day, for who knew how long. “I just…I didn’t expect—”

“It always catches people off guard the first night. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to me. And besides, our deal is that after the Aces are gone, you never have to see me again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change out of these clothes.”

Barba’s face went bright red as he hurried to his room. He could swear he heard Devon chuckling as he went. After a couple moments, he heard the guest bathroom door close. Suddenly remembering his hospitality, he went to his closet, grabbing one of his extra blankets, and made his way back out to the living room. He moved quickly, suddenly embarrassed about seeing Devon in pajamas, huffing out a goodnight as he passed by the bathroom as he retreated back to his room before she had a chance to emerge. Again, he could’ve sworn he heard her laughing as he hurried by. Why was he so embarrassed?

He faintly remembered the night before, how lonely he had felt in the bar. Now that he had a roommate thrust upon him, he wasn’t sure if he liked it. Not like there was much he could do about it now. And with that thought from the night before, the other memories came back, how pretty he thought she was, how he had entertained the idea of bringing her back here, even if only for a moment—

No, he wouldn’t, couldn’t think about that, especially with her right on the other side of his bedroom door, stretched out on his couch, sleeping under his blanket. God, what was happening to him? He still didn’t even really know this woman! He had to be more careful, reign in his emotions; she was an FBI agent, assigned to him to make sure he lived through this threat on his life. Nothing more, nothing less. Though, he had to admit that she was probably going to be around for a while. Might as well get to know her, he thought ruefully. He tried not to get too excited about the thought.

#everyone deserves love #edl #everyone deserves love chapter 4 #edl ch 4 #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #barba x oc #rafael barba x oc #fanfic #my writing #this is not a sponsored ad for damsel in defense #but it is a good source of cool stuff

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unfantasmaficker · 4 years ago

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La chica de la azotea/ the girl on the roof

// Esta es mi primera vez escribiendo un fanfic

// El lector es de genero femenino (si les gusta y recibe apoyo voy a intentar hacer una version en genero neutral para que asi todos puedan leerlo) tambien si no les agrada la descripcion de la lectora tienen total libertad de cambiarlo! sean cretiv@s!! Fantasmita se va!!!!

Disfruten!

Un día cualquiera en la ciudad de New York o al menos así ya lo veía yo, salí de las alcantarillas para tener un momento a solas, ya no soportaba estar ahí, tengo trabajo importante que hacer, con el kraang haciendo experimentos raros yo soy el único que puede dar respuestas al equipo pero simplemente en ese ambiente no se puede pensar con claridad! Rafa y Leo se la pasan peleando, Mikey no deja de molestar y sobre todo Abril esta con Casey haciéndose ojitos! Yo solo necesito un tiempo para calmarme y volveré a casa, si no lo hago seré igual de temperamental que Rafa y eso no está en mi lista de deseos, de todas formas no tardaría será una salida rápida, lo peor que puede pasar si me tardo más de lo usual es que se podrían preocupar y lo último que quiero es un regaño de Leo o peor del maestro Splinter, a veces me siento solo aunque tenga a mis hermanos, a mi padre y a nuestros amigos, tal vez el hecho de que abril no me corresponde sea lo que me tiene mal pero me gustaría hablar con alguien acerca de esto, alguien que no se burle o se queje alguien que en serio entienda.

Camino por los techos, escalo las paredes, hago una que otra maniobra para animarme y aun así solo estoy yo escuchando a mis propios pensamientos, estaba a punto de retirarme creía que ya paso demasiado tiempo, como dije tengo más responsabilidades pendientes que nadie más podría entender o realizar, un peso que debo llevar.

En el techo en el que estaba había una entrada que obviamente daba a la azotea donde yo estaba, no sé si fue mala suerte pero justo cuando me calme y estaba dispuesto a volver, alguien abrió la puerta.

- Rayos… –

Dije en un casi susurro, pues obviamente tuve que ocultarme para que cualquiera que estuviera ahí no me viera, podría simplemente irme y ya es la única opción lógica pero esta persona bloqueaba el único atajo a las alcantarillas cerca de la guarida, tomar cualquier otro camino me retrasaría y eso podría preocupar a mis hermanos, así que solamente quedaba esperar a que se fueran y seguir con mi camino

- Vaya día de porquería! –

Por su voz deduce que era una chica, una adolecente, debía quedarme oculto obviamente pero la curiosidad me mataba que simplemente alce un poco la cabeza y pude verla, era alta, cabello castaño y corto aun así se veía que era ondulado y muy esponjoso, su ropa era muy peculiar un suéter de diseño viejo verde militar súper holgado, lo tenía fajado en unas bermudas de mezclilla azul naval y usaba botas de lluvia lo cual era muy raro ya que no estábamos en temporada de lloviznas , tenía una caja en sus manos y la azoto con fuerza en el suelo, escuche varios vidrios romperse y a la vista de cómo cayo se veía pesado, claro no era problema de la chica que fácilmente lo volvió a alzar y lo estrello fuerte de nuevo

Se veía algo molesta, no que digo algo, se veía furiosa! Pude observar como maldecía y gritaba al aire con todas sus fuerzas

- Malditos deberes! Malditas responsabilidades! El que sea capaz de hacer más cosas que tú no te da derecho a dejar todo sobre mis hombros! –

Abrió la caja y saco varias botellas de cerveza algunas ya estaban rotas pero otras parecían intactas sorpresivamente, las estrellaba en el suelo, las aventaba o simplemente las pisaba, vaya, sí que fue lista en usar las botas para esta peculiar actividad, después de que se le acabaron las botellas simplemente alzo la cara y grito, hubo algo en su grito que se me hacía diferente, con un hermano como Rafael estaba muy acostumbrado a los gritos pero nunca había escuchado uno como el de ella, se escuchaba triste, desesperada, sola…

Me había quedado viendo todo este tiempo sin que ella me notara, pero yo note en ella como lagrimas se resbalaban en sus mejillas con pecas, me sentía mal por ella, tenía ganas de preguntarle si estaba bien o si necesitaba ayuda, pero eso es imposible aún recuerdo la primera vez que Abril me vio y grito, nadie puede verme a la cara sin asustarse y salir corriendo, todo siempre creerán que soy un fenómeno y creo que ella no es la excepción, la chica se limpió sus lágrimas cuando regreso la mirada al suelo, recogió la caja vacía y simplemente volvió a entrar por la misma puerta de la cual salió.

Esa era mi señal, con cuidado salí de mi escondite y procure tener cuidado al caminar por los miles de vidrios rotos que se encontraban en el suelo, si va a hacer una rabieta al menos debería recoger su desastre!

Llegando al otro extremo de la azotea no pude evitar ver hacia atrás, los vidrios seguían ahí eso quería decir que mi “encuentro” con la chica si paso y aunque esto suene a una locura yo aún no podía creer lo que presencié, me sentí identificado de alguna forma y de nuevo mi curiosidad despertó quería volver a verla, solo para escucharla, solo para ver que se le ocurría hacer la próxima vez, salte de techo en techo, escale escaleras y paredes y al regresar a la alcantarilla que me llevaba a casa solo podía pensar en el mañana cuando pueda ver de nuevo a la chica de la azotea.

English Version

On any given day in New York City or at least that's how I saw it, I came out of the sewers to have a moment alone, I couldn't bear to be there anymore, I have important work to do, with the kraang doing strange experiments, I am the one the only one who can give answers to the team but simply in that environment you cannot think clearly! Raph and Leo are always fighting, Mikey does not stop bothering and especially April is with Casey flirting! I just need some time to calm down and I'll go home, if I don't I will be just as temperamental as Raph and that's not on my wish list, anyway it won't take long it will be a quick exit, the worst thing that can happen if I'm late more than usual is that they could worry and the last thing I want is a scolding from Leo or worse from Master Splinter, sometimes I feel lonely even though I have my brothers, my father and our friends, maybe the fact that April does not correspond my feelings is what is wrong with me but I would like to talk with someone about this, someone who does not mock or complain, someone who seriously understands.

I walk on the ceilings, I climb the walls, I do the odd maneuver to cheer myself up and even so I'm just listening to my own thoughts, I was about to retire I thought that too much time had passed, as I said I have more pending responsibilities than anyone else could understand or realize, a weight that I must carry.

On the roof I was on there was an entrance that obviously led to the roof where I was, I don't know if it was bad luck but just when I calmed down and was ready to go back, someone opened the door.

- Dang it… -

I said in an almost whisper, because obviously I had to hide so that anyone who was there would not see me, I could just leave and it is already the only logical option but this person blocked the only shortcut to the sewers near the lair, take any other path I would be late and that could worry my brothers, so I just had to wait for them to leave and continue on my way.

- What a crappy day! -

From her voice I deduces that it was a girl, an adolescent, I had to stay hidden obviously but curiosity killed me that I just raised my head a little and I could see her, she was tall, brown hair and short even so it looked like it was wavy and very fluffy, Her clothes were very peculiar a super loose old military green design sweater, she had it tucked in some navy blue denim shorts and she wore rain boots which was very rare since we were not in the drizzle season, she had a box in her hands and she hit it hard on the ground, I heard several glass break and at the sight of how it fell it looked heavy, of course it was not the problem of the girl who easily raised it again and smashed it hard again

She looked somewhat annoyed, not that I said something, she looked furious! I could see how she cursed and screamed into the air with all his might

- Damn homework! Damn responsibilities! The fact that I am capable of doing more things than you does not give you the right to leave everything on my shoulders! -

She opened the box and took out several bottles of beer, some were already broken but others seemed surprisingly intact, she smashed them on the ground, threw them or simply stepped on them, well, she was ready to use her boots for this peculiar activity, after She ran out of bottles, she just raised her face and shouted, there was something in her cry that made me different, with a brother like Rafael I was very used to shouting but I had never heard one like hers, it sounded sad, desperate, alone…

I had been watching all this time without her noticing me, but I noticed in her how tears slied down her freckled cheeks, I felt bad for her, I wanted to ask her if she was okay or if she needed help, but that's impossible I still remember the first time that April saw me and yelled, nobody can see my face without being scared and running away, they will always believe that I am a phenomenon and I think she is no exception, the girl wiped her tears when she looked back to the ground, she picked up the empty box and simply went back in through the same door from which she came.

That was my signal, I carefully came out of my hiding place and tried to be careful when walking through the thousands of broken glass that were on the ground, if you are going to throw a tantrum you should at least pick up your mess!

Reaching the other end of the roof, I couldn't help looking back, the glass was still there, that meant that my "meeting" with the girl did happen and although this sounds crazy I still couldn't believe what I witnessed, I felt identified somehow and again my curiosity awoke I wanted to see her again, just to listen to her, just to see what she could do next time, jump from ceiling to ceiling, climb stairs and walls and when returning to the sewer that led me to home I could only think of tomorrow when I can see the girl on the roof again.

#fanfic_tmnt2012 fanficmadebyaFantasma #donatello x reader

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torentialtribute · 5 years ago

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Premier League 2019-20 team guide: Liverpool to be Manchester City’s closest title rivals

The new Premier League Season is coming.

While some teams are looking for last-minute transfer deals, others have more confidence in their current team.

Sportsmail gives the completion of each team this season.

Chelsea would do well to put this in the top four season to end under new manager Frank Lampard

Arsenal – last season: 5th

What's new: Arsenal spends £ 72m on one player, even in installments . The arrival of Ivory Coast winger Nicolas Pepe has given fans hope for a return to the Champions League.

Who They Want: Celtic Left Back Kieran Tierney could arrive before the end of the window.

Bookies say: Gunners are 5-4 to get back in the top four.

We say: Terrifying front three but still plagued by the same problems at the back.

Spent: £ 105m

Players in: 4

Received: £ 11.5 m

Aston Villa – last season: promoted

What's new: Play-offs championships last season, now the sixth largest in Europe. Twelve new signings, including both Tyrone Mings and the Brazilian striker Wesley on more than £ 20m each. At least things.

Who They Want: After all those releases, Villa could still be on the market for Leeds midfielder Kalvin Phillips.

Bookies say: Only Man Utd has spent more, but Villa has yet to fall 2-1.

We say: Who knows? Could be inspired, could be Fulham all over again.

Spent: £ 134m

Players in: 12

Received: £ 0 m

Bournemouth – last season: 14th

What's new: A £ 100,000-week contract for Striker Callum Wilson. Huge money, but vital for Eddie Howe. Will thrive from the service of Ryan Fraser and new £ 16m winger Arnaut Danjuma.

Who they want: With a crisis in midfield, the cherries are talking about a movement of 25m Liverpool winger Harry Wilson.

Bookies say: 9-2 are banned only 5-1 for a top-10 finish.

We say: Insert a pin in the middle of the table.

Spent: £ 48m

Players in: 4

Received: [19459175] £ 31m

Brighton – last season: 17th

[1945902] What's new: Graham Potter has replaced the fired Chris Hughton who could see Brighton playing more offensive football under the former Swansea boss . Stalwart defends that Bruno has also retired.

Who They Want: Breaking their transfer record and signed 22m in the center behind Adam Webster from Bristol City. Plan now to keep Leicester away from Lewis Dunk.

Bookies say: 2-1 to go down, firing Potter's third favorite first.

We say: Another relegation battle.

Spent: £ 43m

Players in: 4

Received: £ 0m

Burnley – last season: 15th

What's new: No European distraction for Burnley this season, which seriously hampered the first half of their campaign in the past term. Have resigned from Jay Rodriguez in a £ 10 million deal.

Who They Want: Burnley signed goalkeeper Bailey Peacock-Farrell of Leeds after selling Tom Heaton to Villa.

Bookies say: Relegation scrap on the cards, 2-1 before the drop.

We say: Should be safe, but no chance of challenging to weather & # 39; Best of the Rest & # 39; to be.

Spent: £ 14m

Players in:

Received: £ 8m

Chelsea – last season: 3rd

What's new: Frank Lampard is back to replace Maurizio Sarri, Eden Hazard has left and Christian Pulisic has arrived to buy Belgian boots fill one year after signing at Chelsea under a transfer embargo.

Who They Want: Chelsea defeated their 72-hour transfer ban to permanently secure Mateo Kovacic & # 39; s loan from Real Madrid. They can't do anything anymore.

Bookies say: 40-1 to win the title.

We say: Lost their best player. Unproven manager.

Crystal Palace – last season: 12th

What's new: Aaron Wan-Bissaka has joined £ 50 million with Manchester United while Wilfried Zaha is desperate to proceed to. The permanent signing of Jordan Ayew is hardly inspiring.

Who They Want: Zaha locked himself up in Roy Hodgson's basement until the transfer period expired. Palace has rejected a £ 14 million bid for CSKA striker Fedor Chalov.

Bookies say: The stands, the Eagles must be in order at 1-5 to survive.

We say: If they lose Zaha, problems arise.

Spent: £ 2.5 m

Players in: 2

Received: £ 50m

Everton – last season: 8th

What's new: Everton has done some smart business. Andre Gomes joined Fabian Delph for good. Losing Idrissa Gueye to PSG is a major blow, but has been replaced by Mainz’s Jean-Philippe Gbamin.

Who They Want: Moise Kean of Juventus and the £ 36m seems to be ready after the 19-year-old rejected a move to Arsenal.

Bookies say: It is between the Toffees, Leicester and Wolves to finish seventh. All 4-1.

We say: We can be the difference.

Spent: £ 54m

] Players in: 3

Received: £ 60m

Leicester- last season: 9th

What's new: ] Brendan Rodgers has £ 85 million to spend after Harry Maguire has joined Manchester United for a record amount for one defender. Youri Tielemans and Ayoze Perez have strengthened Leicester's sixth bid.

Who They Want: Lewis Dunk, James Tarkowski and Nathan Ake are all on the list to replace Maguire. Rodgers also really wants a different winger.

Bookies say: 4-1 for a top-six finish.

We say: Maguire loss is a blow but Leicester in good shape to push the elite.

Spent: £ 77m

Players in: 3

Received: £ 85m

Liverpool – last season: 2nd

What's new: Not much actually. Jurgen Klopp has chosen to give the Champions League winners a boost for the future with youngsters Sepp van den Berg and Fulham & Harvey Elliott.

Who they want: Klopp is happy with his fate. A reunion with the grace of Barca star Philippe Coutinho has been rumors but never really considered.

Bookies say: Second favorites for the title at 9-4 against odds-on City.

We say: The nearest rivals of the city once again.

Spent: £ 1.5 m

Players in: 2

Received: £ 22m

Manchester City – last season: 1st

[1945902] What's new: How does it improve your perfection? By signing Atletico Madrid midfielder Rodri for £ 62m. The departure of Vincent Kompany will leave a gap of enormous leadership and experience.

Who They Want: Pep Guardiola wants Kyle Walker's back cover and looks at Joao Cancelo from Juventus, who would cost £ 53 million.

Bookies say: Give them the trophy already. Chances for a third consecutive title.

We say: Only Liverpool can stop them.

Spent: £ 81m

Players in: 3

Received: £ 30m

Manchester United – last season: 6th

What's new: & # 39; The world's most expensive defender, £ 85m Harry Maguire. The future of Paul Pogba, while Romelu Lukaku could leave.

Who they want: Juventus striker Paulo Dybala, ideally in an exchange agreement for Lukaku. Even Cristiano Ronaldo gave his two penneth and urged Dybala to join.

Bookies say: Tipped for the top four, but Solskjaer still favorite to be fired first.

We say: We will fight for the top four despite their hefty spending.

Spent: £ 144m

Players in: 3

Received: £ 0m

Newcastle – last season: 13th

What's new: A new manager in Steve Bruce, replacing Rafa Benitez, and a £ 40m club record that Joelinton signs. Outside the field it is the same old frustration with the despised owner Mike Ashley.

Who They Want: The arrival of Nice winger Allan Saint-Maximin is now complete, while Bruce has said things about more deals are bubbling & # 39;

Bookies say: Relegation air combat beckons. Magpies go down 2-1.

We say: Bruce has a job to keep up with them.

Spent: £ 57m

Players in: 4

Received: £ 32m

Norwich – last season: promoted

What's new: Six new acquisitions for the champion winners, but Norwich has not split too much. Striker Josip Drmic who participated in a free transfer from Borussia Mönchengladbach the most exciting.

Who They Want: Norwich wants to permanently sign Jordan Rhodes, which borrowed it from the club last season, from Sheffield Wednesday.

Bookies say: Evens for an immediate return to the championship.

We say: Will have trouble staying up.

Spent: £ 4m

Players in: 6

Received: £ 1,5m

Sheffield United – last season: promoted

What's new: The £ 20m club record arrival of Oli McBurnie from Swansea has completed an exciting summer for Chris Wilder & # 39; s side, who have added some essential Premier League experience to Phil Jagielka.

Who They Want: Wilder is still believed to be interested in taking Everton to defend Mason Holgate on loan, but is facing competition from West Brom.

Bookies say: The chance to go straight down.

We say: The goals of McBurnie will be the key.

Spent: £ 42m

Players in: 7

Received: £ 0m

Southampton – last season: 16th

What's new: Saints fans have seen too many attackers flatter to cheat to praise Che Adams, but they are hopeful that he will miss it immediately Danny Ings can hit.

Who They Want: Ralph Hasenhuttl, a man who has blown positivity into a group that has fallen into disrepair under Mark Hughes, should not shorten his team.

Bookies say: Opportunities to end up in the lower half again.

We say: No relegation this time.

Spent: £ 50m

Players in: [19459175] 3

Received: £ 20m

Tottenham – last season: 4th

[1945902] What's new: Daniel Levy, not known for his large spending, has written a check of £ 63 million, it club record shattered and then the French midfielder Tanguy Ndombele tempted to North London.

Who They Want: Fulham left back Ryan Sessegnon appears to be on the eve of a £ 30 million move.

Bookies say: 22-1 for the title – and the same prize for the Champions League!

We say: Too good to go backwards, not good enough to crack the top two.

Players in: 2

Received: £ 30m

Watford – last season: 11th

What's new: Craig Dawson, at 29, must seamlessly connect to the side that was on average the oldest in the top flight last season. Otherwise the Pozzo wallet remained largely unopened this summer.

Who they want: Nobody seems to be working on the principle that after a top finish for 24 years and a definitive FA FA look, what to repair?

Bookies say: 11-4 to improve a place and to play a top-half finish.

We say: A solid side that will work well.

Spent: £ 8m

Players in: 3

Received: £ 20m

West Ham – last season: 10th

What's new: Sebastien Haller, drawn from Frankfurt for £ 45m, takes the & # 39; idolized striker & # 39; after the unlikely exit of Marko Arnautovic.

Who They Want: Preseason shipping targets means that Manuel Pellegrini wants to cover the back, with Gary Cahill and Aaron Long on his list.

Bookies say: Tenth last year they are 6-5 to finish the top 10 again.

We say: Last three seasons – 11th, 13th and 10th. Mid-table maybe?

Spent: £ 70m

Players in: 4

Received: ] £ 41m

Wolves – last season: 7th

What's new: Europa League football and an increased sense of expectation on the back of last season's beautiful seventh placed finish. Striker Patrick Cutrone from Milan is the star who draws in a calm summer.

Who they want: World Cup winner Sami Khedira, out of favor with Juventus, is on the radar.

Bookies say: The best of the last term, Wolves are 4-1 to repeat the performance.

We say: Thursday / Sunday calendar can hinder the hope of the seventh again impeding.

£ 82m

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#Premier League 2019-20 team guide: Liverpool to be Manchester City’s closest title rivals"

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zoeykaytesmom · 6 years ago

Text

What is Life (Chapter 11)

@esparza-army @xemopeachx @tropes-and-tales @jramirezblogs @sweetsummertime99 @thatesparzacrush @barbafan69 @eclecticdeersuit

Izzy didn’t know how to act during the last few days of Rafael’s stay after he had told her he had thought about marrying her.

Things weren’t awkward but they didn’t do much, either. They didn’t even have sex. Was he serious? They were only 21, she had no idea what she wanted to do when she graduated college, let alone what she wanted in her personal life.

The last two nights, he still slept in her twin sized bed with her. He held her as tight as he could each night. He didn’t want to let her go at all.

They laid on her bed, watching “Mallrats” when he finally decided to say something.

“Did I scare you the other day?”

“What do you mean?”

“When we were talking about marriage. You’ve seemed distant since that day.”

“Did you really mean that?”

“I have loved you since…”

“Rafa we have too much…”

“Drama, history, I know. Look at everything we’ve dealt with.”

“Like you telling me you couldn’t talk to me because of Yelina?”

“Is that what we’re going to spend my last night here doing? Arguing?”

“No! I’m just…why me?”

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Do you know how much I missed you…”

“We’ve been through that.”

“I didn’t say I was going to propose tomorrow. I was just saying that you were the only person I could see myself making that kind of commitment with. I never saw that with Yelina. Only you.”

“Like how?” She asked.

“Like me becoming a lawyer, you doing…whatever it is you want to do. We’d have this big, beautiful ceremony in the church. A tropical honeymoon afterwards. Then, have a lot of kids.”

“A lot, huh?”

“Why not? We’re both good looking so they would be.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Look, like I said at Christmas, I don’t know what’s going to happen but I do know that I love you. Maybe we’re meant to be together, maybe we’re not. That’s not for either of us to know.”

“What if we’re not?”

“Then I guess we’ll end up alone or with the person we’re supposed to be with.”

“I guess so,” she replied quietly.

“I just want to enjoy what little bit more time we have together. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

*******

“So, I’ll see you this summer?” Izzy asked as he walked Rafael to his gate.

“I’m…uh…I’m taking a couple of classes this summer, actually.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll try to come to New York when I can.”

“No. Don’t spend money you don’t have to.”

“I want to see you, though.”

“American Airlines Flight 1693 to JFK now boarding”

“I gotta go,” he told her reluctantly.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Call me?”

“Sure. Call me when you get back to Harvard?”

“Of course, I will.”

He leaned in and kissed her one more time. She actually wanted to cry during it, thinking this would probably the last time she ever feel his lips on hers.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

***********

“And you went to the doctor?” Krystal asked.

“I’m 5 weeks a long,” Izzy told her as she cried.

“Have you told Rafael?”

“Not yet. I mean, he’s got enough on his plate right now. Besides, I don’t even know what I’m going to do right now.”

“Well, I know it’s ultimately your decision but you need to tell him at least.”

“I know,” she said as she laid back on her bed, holding a stuffed frog she had since she was a kid. “My parents are going to kill me.”

“How did this happen? I thought he used a condom.”

“That one time, we were really going at it and it broke but it looked full when he pulled it off. God, I can’t believe this.”

“Look, it’s gonna be fine.”

“How? I was raised abortion is murder but on the same hand, this will wreck Rafael’s life. I don’t have the plans he does. Hell, I don’t have any for that matter.”

“Doesn’t Harvard have like off campus living for families?”

“He would never be able to keep up with school or get into law school with a baby around.”

“You still need to tell him.”

“I will eventually. Right now, I just want to sleep.”

Sleep was the last thing Izzy was able to do, however. Her mind was swarmed with different thoughts. What was she going to do? How was she going to break the news to Rafael? How was he going to take the news?

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

“Are you sure?”

“I took three tests and the doctor confirmed it last week,” she told him over the phone. “Hello?”

“Y-yeah. I’m here.”

“I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone but I didn’t want to wait until we came home for the summer. I mean, I know you are taking classes…”

“I had actually changed my mind. I wasn’t able to get the loan I needed since my scholarship doesn’t cover summer courses.”

“Your parents wouldn’t co-sign for it?”

“Their credit is shot thanks to my dad. I couldn’t ask Abuelita. She lives on social security and Abuelito’s retirement. She wouldn’t have been approved either.”

“My dad would probably…”

“He’s the last person I would ask now. So…what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, Rafa. I’m sorry…”

“Hey, stop that. You didn’t make this baby alone,” he told her as his voice broke.

“But you have another year of college, then law school…I can’t let you throw any of that away.”

“I know we’re not technically together but I love you. This semester is almost over and we’ll be back in New York. We can work on a plan then, okay?”

“Okay. I mean I only have a small window if I’m going to have a…you know.”

“Yeah,” he replied quietly. They had both been raised Catholic and had been taught through the church that abortion, among many other things, were a sin basically. Izzy had always thought it was fine for someone else, it just wasn’t a choice for her.

Now she was trying to decide what choice was for her and Rafael.

They talked for a little while longer until he had to get to his evening class that day.

“I love you. Okay. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t. I love you, too, Rafael.”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

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

“You feeling okay?” Stella asked as she met her daughter at the airport.

“Yeah. Airplane food sucks.”

“You look like you need some sleep. Let’s get you home where you can lay down and get back on New York time. What do you say?”

“Sounds good, Ma,” she replied with a small smile.

“Tony will be home in a few days so you can have some peace and quiet until then.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she shrugged.

“You don’t seem like it.”

“Just this last year is coming up and I still haven’t decided what I want to do when I graduate,” she lied.

“You have a little bit to figure it out. Don’t let it ruin your summer. I’m sure as soon as Erin gets in from Chicago, you two will hardly be at home.”

“Ma?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“N-never mind.”

“What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything.”

“What would you say you are, pro-life or pro-choice?”

“Well, I guess to me…it’s up to the woman. It’s not my business and I don’t believe it should be the government’s either. Looks like that makes me pro-choice. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondered.”

Before pulling out of the parking spot, Stella turned to her daughter, turning off the key to her Ford Explorer.

“Elizabeth are you pregnant?”

Tears just filled her brown eyes as she slowly nodded. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

“Oh, baby, shhh,” she told her as she took her daughter in her arms and stroked her hair. “Rafael?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah, I told him.”

“How did he take the news?”

“Just kind of took it. He didn’t get angry or anything. I don’t want to ruin his life.”

“What are you two going to do?”

“We’re going to talk when he gets home from Harvard.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t tell Dad yet, please.”

“Of course, I won’t. Why didn’t you already tell me?”

“I knew you’d be disappointed in me. I’m throwing away college, I’m ruining Rafael’s life.”

“You can always transfer to NYU or Fordham or St. John’s. We can always figure this out but you and Rafael have to make your decision first.”

“I know.”

“Let’s get you home and get you some rest.”

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

It seemed like Izzy had slept for 24 hours straight when it was only about 3.

“Hey, Izz?”

“Yeah, Ma?”

“You have company.”

“Okay,” she said as she sat up and stretched.

“Go on in,” Stella said as she opened the door for Rafael to walk in. She closed the door to give them privacy.

Rafael sat on the bed he had lost his virginity in and held his head in his hands for a minute. He finally looked up, tears at the brim of his eyes. He took Izzy in his arms and they both just started crying.

“I’ve thought a lot about this and I’m gonna support whatever decision you make.”

“Raf…”

“Look, I can still go to law school. I can apply for scholarships for Columbia, Fordham…”

“Harvard has always been your dream,” she interrupted. “I can’t let you give that up.”

“I can’t leave you alone with our baby and you’re not going back to California. If we have this baby, you are staying here.”

“You want to have this baby, don’t you?”

“Only if you do.”

“We were taught one thing, we believe a different thing, but then here we are having to balance both of those to decide what’s right or wrong.”

“I know. Like I said, I will support you no matter what. ¿Entiendes?”

She just nodded.

“So?”

“So, I guess we’re having a baby.”

“I think we should make us official by now, too,” he chuckled through his tears. “I mean you’re not just some girl I picked up in a bar. I’ve loved you for so long.”

“I guess you’re right,” she agreed with a smile.

He took her face lightly in his hands and kissed her. It was even better than the last one when he left California.

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

“Okay, we can’t tell you two what to do. Rafael I do not want your studies suffering. I’ll make sure you have a way home on the weekends and holidays,” Anthony told them after they had broken the news and had given him time to process it. “We will take care of her and the baby while you’re getting your degree and when you go to law school. I know it’s gonna be hard for you to basically be a part time dad at first but they’ll both be fine.”

“Thank you, Anthony.”

“What did your parents say?”

“Well, I’m here with nowhere to stay other than Abuelita’s.”

“You know better than that. Although, if you are going to stay here over the summer, just like Tony and Izzy, I want you to get a job.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I might can find something down at the firehouse for you to do in the office. It would be 8-4. Mainly filing, some data entry stuff. Nothing too much.”

Stella and Izzy both looked at each other knowing that Anthony had already set it up.

“I can’t believe your parents kicked you out.”

“It wasn’t Mami, really.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Anthony scoffed.

“Izzy you did get your stuff from USC…”

“It was being faxed to NYU, Fordham, St. John’s, and Queens College.”

“Okay. Have you found a doctor yet?”

“Yes, sir. I have my first appointment with her next week.”

“Rafael make sure you let Loretta in the office know you’ll need your lunch break at whatever time that appointment is.”

“Sure.”

“Alright. I guess that’s it for now. I always thought Tony would be the one to make us grandparents so young.”

“Anthony.”

“Oh, Stella, I’m just teasing. Well, I’m being serious but my daughter could’ve done a lot worse. You, however, Rafael, could do better.”

“Dad!!!”

“I’ve seen you when you first wake up.”

“Leave her alone. She’s carrying your grandchild.”

“You two get out of here,” he said with a chuckle as he playfully poked Stella. He waited until they were out of the kitchen. “Can they do this?”

“I sure hope so, Anthony. Izzy’s more worried about Rafael than anything.”

“We’ll just have to do what we can to help them. Your parents helped us.”

“True and I was around Izzy’s age when I had her and Tony.”

“The only difference is we were married.”

“Yeah and if you’ll remember, they came almost 9 months after our wedding. They would’ve if I hadn’t been a month early.”

“I’ve always told you they loved each other.”

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rafaelnadalfans · 6 years ago

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Transcript of Rafael Nadal’s pre-tournament presser.

Q. How do you assess your physical condition at this specific stage? How do you feel? RAFAEL NADAL: Good. No, I feel good. If I am not feeling good, I will not be here. I have good feelings in terms of the surgery that I have in the foot. I can say is almost done.

Then, of course, after surgery, after months without competing, having troubles to practice, of course there is always issues when you come back.

But nothing new for me. I had couple of ones of this. Just accept the challenges of the body presents and the tennis presents.

Is again another season, coming back from a tough period of time, but with highest motivation possible to start another season. Very excited to be back here in Melbourne, starting another one.

Yeah, of course is good news that I am here again – for me, I don’t know for you (smiling). That’s my feeling: happy to be here.

Photo by Ben Solomon/Tennis Australia

Q. I’ve seen some video that makes it look like your serve is quite different. Did you change it? If so, why? Was it a difficult thing to do? RAFAEL NADAL: You need to make you feel alive, you know. There is always things to improve. Is true that I try to improve during all my career all the things. The serve was always a thing that I tried to improve, and I think I did.

Maybe was the time to try to make one more step, no? That’s what we are trying. I happy with it. I happy with the motivation to do something new. I happy with the fact that, if I am able to make that happen in a good way, that hopefully will give me the chance to help me on my game a longer term. That’s all.

I didn’t compete with this new serve, so let’s see how it works. I am confident it’s going to work well.

Q. You’ve known Andy Murray such a long time. How is it going to feel to be on tour without him? RAFAEL NADAL: Yeah, of course is very bad news. But being honest, when somebody like him, that he achieved almost everything in his tennis career, is suffering like he’s doing for such a long time already, and you feel that you are not competitive for the thing that really makes you wake up every morning and go on court with the passion to practice, to improve, and with a goal, then is so difficult, no?

I can’t say that because I didn’t had that experience, but in some way I can speak about similarities that I had in my career, no? When you are going on court every day without the clear goal because you cannot move well, you have pain, then is a moment to take a decision.

Probably he is fighting for keep going since a long time. If he doesn’t feel that the thing can go better, probably he does the right thing for his mental health.

Will be a very important lose for us, for the world of tennis, for the tour, for the fans, even for the rivals that he have been part of a great rivalry between the best players for a long time, and a great competitor.

But that’s life. Seems like he had not very long career because today players are playing that long. But he’s 31. 10 years ago, if he retired at 31, we will say he had a great and very long career. That’s the real thing.

So all the best for him. We will miss him. But today is him. Tomorrow another one. We are not 20 any more. Our generation, everyone is more than 30s. These kind of things happens. That’s it.

Q. You talked about the similar experiences you had with Andy, with physical issues. With all the injuries that you’ve had, the operations, the procedures on your knee, have you ever thought that your body is telling you that maybe you shouldn’t be playing tennis, that you should go play golf, go fishing? RAFAEL NADAL: I didn’t arrive to that point. I am a positive guy. I always had the feeling that we’ll fix it. But, of course, there is periods of time that you don’t see the light. Is tough.

My only goal is always to have been keep going. Even if lot of days you go on court when you have troubles or you go to the gym without having a real goal or without knowing why I am going there, because I don’t see a benefit on this today; you keep going. That’s the only way that you can keep having confidence and hope for a good comeback in terms of health. That’s it.

I have my experience. I know sometimes is hard mentally. Is tough when you have one thing, then another thing.

But I know that tennis is not forever. I want to do it as long as I can and give myself the best possibilities to fight for the things really I am passionate about, and to keep doing the things that I really enjoy doing. Playing tennis is one of the things, compete in this sport is one of the things that I enjoy more doing.

When arrive the day that I cannot hold it again will be the day to go and do what you told me or another things.

Q. You talked about Andy, the rivalries, everything. A lot of the support from players is pointed out what they will miss is him, his personality, how he was as a man. RAFAEL NADAL: Yeah, we shared competitions under 13, under 14. Yeah, we know each other since a very long, long time ago, no? When he was a kid, he was little bit a bad boy (smiling).

Then, of course, you have an evolution on your personality. And yes, at the end of the day you appreciate a lot your rivals because you shared lot of important moments in our lives.

I always had good relationship with him. We shared moments in my academy. We shared moments playing some exhibitions all around the world. We shared court in the most important stadiums in the world, competing for the most important things. That’s impossible to forget.

He has a good fighting spirit. He have been a hard worker. Is not nice to finish like this because is great that you finish when you want to finish, not because of another thing.

Overall, when he puts everything on the balance, will be that the positive things of the balance are much heavier than the negative things, even if in the end is not probably the way that he dreamed about. But you can’t manage that.

Q. One of your great rivalries is with Roger Federer. What are your recollections of the 2017 final playing him, and how different was it, given the stages your careers were at? RAFAEL NADAL: Can you repeat that?

Q. One of your great rivalries was with Roger Federer. RAFAEL NADAL: Me?

Q. Yes. The 2017 final was the last time you played him in the final. What are your recollections of that match? How different is it playing him now in matches, given the stages of your careers? RAFAEL NADAL: I don’t know. 2017 have been a special situation. Both of us came back from very long time without playing tennis. Nobody expected that, and happened. Was something, like, completely unexpected, and happened. That was big.

But today is different story. We are back to the top positions, fighting for the things again. Always have been a big challenge to face Roger all around the world, in the different surfaces, different scenarios.

And yes, 2017 here have been one of the matches that going to stays in our minds, in our careers. But one more, we had plenty.

Q. I know you’ve had experience in your career where you’ve preferred not to have a particular umpire at your match. What was it like when this person eventually did umpire you again? What was your feeling? RAFAEL NADAL: I never had problems, being honest. I had some issues, I mean, long-term problems. I consider myself a very relaxed guy on court. As everybody knows, I had an issue with Carlos in Rio.

But for me is not about one thing or another thing that can happen on the match. Everybody can have mistakes. For me, the only reason why during a small period of time I request that if I cannot have him on the chair was because, in my opinion, that day in Rio de Janeiro, he didn’t respect me. That is all. He make me change my shorts in front of 7000 people. Sorry, I don’t believe that’s nice. That’s all.

If he’s pushing me with the time, making a negative call, that’s part of the business. Everybody have mistakes. I have mistakes. I am wrong sometimes. Under pressure, I can do sometimes things that being relaxed you will not.

But that’s all. I only had that issue.

Q. So it was okay the next time when he umpired you? RAFAEL NADAL: He was umpire me plenty of times after that. I am not people that going to think about what happened in the past. I see him on the airport travelling all around. I always say hello. We always had a good relationship with Carlos.

Being honest, I respect him a lot. I think he’s one of the best umpires that we had for a long time. But that day was a mistake. He had time to think about it, that’s all. He did something that in my personal opinion was not respecting me, but that’s all.

We spoke. We don’t have problems at all. If he’s on the chair tomorrow, after tomorrow, I will not think at all about what happened in the past. No, no, no problems at all.

Source: Australian Open

Australian Open 2019: Rafa’s pre-tournament presser Transcript of Rafael Nadal’s pre-tournament presser. Q. How do you assess your physical condition at this specific stage?

#Andy Murray #Australian Open #Melbourne #presser #Rafael Nadal #tennis

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 7 years ago

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A gift for you

It’s irritating when you have writers block. Much worse whwn you have writers block with the fanfiction you wrote of someone else’s fanfiction. How dare you be so inspiring.

(Note from DW: I have no idea why the formatting is showing up weird on the dashboard. Click through to my blog and it all looks perfect!)

June

It had been an easy day at work. Jordan had taken on the bulk of the calls and Romero was quite adept at paperwork; between the two of them John was unsure he’d ever have to work a hard day again. He had a feeling that was the point.

“Hey you,” Mel said opening the door, two mugs in her hand.

John smiled. “Hey you.”

He took the mug from her and made to move past her but her hans came up to rest lightly on his chest. John frowned.

“We’re having a small situation. Very small, like a two feet tall situation,” Mel said gently. “Nothing to overly worry about but…”

There was a shout followed by a thump inside the house. John peered into the house to spot a child running through the hallway with Allison following it. John raised an eyebrow at Melissa.

“Tiny situation.”

Nadia.

That’s what the little gold bangle on her wrist said. Engraved on gold. Expensive. Loved.

John searches very carefully on the database, no Nadias missing.

Allison is making cheesy pasta and Nadia is singing some sort of song along with her, flour is everywhere.

John broadens his search a little bit, looking for missing kids from sites of accidents, or crime scenes.

“She just appeared, screaming in Scott’s bed,” Melissa said. “Liam said the place smelt like wet rain on hot tarmac.”

“Petrichor,” John interjected absently. Melissa gave him a look. A look that said you’ve interrupted me and how did you know that?

He’s been spouting a lot of random useless information recently.

He has no real idea where it comes from.

“She had a broken arm and latched onto Malia like a limpet - “

“Malia?” John asked incredulous.

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to get to work on time?”

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly.

“Nadia liked the smell of Malia. Malia liked the smell of Nadia. They’ve been adorable. Allison came over an hour or so ago.”

“Wait, Nadia liked - Nadia is - “

“A tiny werewolf. Yes. The bone had to be set though. Deaton says she won’t heal like a grown up, won’t shift, won’t have super strength. She has smelling and hearing. She’s got a cast on. That’s about it.”

Melissa handed John her empty mug.

“Enjoy babysitting.”

“You got anything?”

John was pulled out of his thoughts and he snapped the laptop shut, standing up from the study chair.

“Nothing yet,” John replied. Malia screwed up her face.

“She’s not sad. Just scared. Upset. Maybe…”

“Maybe she’s just lost and we get a happy ending?” John finished for her. Malia nodded, serious. “I hear you’re her favourite?”

Malia glanced over into the kitchen. Nadia has a wooden spoon and is now clanging out a beat on the worktop. Malia tilted her head to consider.

“She smells like home. Like family. I…” She turned back to John. “I’ve never felt or smelt something like this before.”

John wrapped an arm around Malia’s shoulders. Since he discovered her and Scott pulled her out of her shift he’s had a soft spot for her, a specal place in his heart for her. He used to find her curled up in the guest room, snarling, fighting for control. She would curl up and howl and cry to the moon. When morning came around she would stumble out of the room to the kitchen where John had made up hot chocolate for her. She never even flinched.

That vulnerable edge made John want to protect her from the world.

“Maybe that’s why she’s here, hm?”

Malia gave a little shrug amd let John lead her through to the kitchen. Nadia’s eyes swiveled round to them. Big whiskey eyes. Big grin.

“Mala!”

Malia grinned and hip checked Allison on her way over to the tot. Allison playfully swatted her with her spatula in revenge.

“Are you making pasta?”

Nadia nodded, beginning to babble and waving her spoon around. Malia listened intently.

“Need any help?” John asked Allison as he approached the hob.

“Uhm, table? Finding something for Nadia would be great. We had to borrow that high chair thing from the neighbours. I think it’s meant for younger ages though? But yeah, a bowl and a spoon?” Allison said brow furrowing.

John easily found some old bowls and sippy cups and cutlery from the back of the cupboard. Nadia turned her nose up very slightly at the sippy cup, but Malia put in her favourite juice so she seemed happy enough. She ate well. Then she got sleepy.

Malia and John stood in the doorway of Scott’s room. Nadia was curled upside down with her thumb in her mouth. “All tuckered out,” John said softly, staring at the little girl swamped in Scott’s bed.

“I need to go. I’ll come back tomorrow. After college. Maybe two.”

John nodded. “My day off tomorrow so don’t stress. Come when you like.”

John startled awake. Pitch black. Mel at work. Why - ?

His radio crackled again as panicked whimpers were broadcast into his room, a makeshift baby monitor. He blearily stood and walked down to Scott’s room. Scanning the room he found Nadia was curled up in the wardrobe crying softly.

“Nadia?” John called gently. “It’s John, I’m coming in.”

He wasn’t sure how much Nadia understood yet, but she was three or four. She could probably understand.

“I’m opening the door now,” he said crouching down and pushing the door open. Nadia was curled up in the corner, snuggled into one of the old lacrosse jumpers Scott had accumulated. “Hey kiddo.”

“Want Tato. Want Dad.”

Tato.

“I know, sweetie. How about tomorrow we sit down and we’ll figure out how to get you home?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Nadia looked at John with her big eyes, mousey brown hair tangled all around her, moles and freckles dotted around.

“You want some hot milk? Get you ready for sleep again?”

She nodded and held out her arms. This kid was so trusting.

John lifted her and easily popped her onto his hip like a pro.

Well, he’d seen others do it so often.

He trundled down to the kitchen and started making the milk. Nadia snuggled up into his neck and breathed deeply. They sat down on the couch and Nadia fell asleep in his arms. It felt nice, it felt… familiar.

Melissa’s face was the first thing he saw when he woke.

“Hey you,” she said softly, kissing his nose. “Late night?”

“Nah,” he said glancing down at the tyke. “Just an interlude. Meant to put her back in her bed.”

“I may have taken photos,” Melissa said with a grin. “So cute.”

“Careful what you wish for, who knows when Scott’s going to come home with a babe in arms.”

“Ugh, no, don’t ruin it,” she said crinkling her brow. “Pop her back in bed and see if she’ll sleep a while longer.”

“Mm wake now,” came a lispy voice. “Look for dad. Look for Tato.”

John sighed and stood. “That’s right, sweetie, but first we get clothes on and breakfast. Sound good?”

“Nom nom,” she breathed into John’s neck.

“I can - ”

“Nah, you get a shower and some rest. How was the shift?” he asked as they climbed the stairs.

“Quiet. Are you sure? I am the experienced one here,” Mel said with a grin.

“I can handle it,” Johns snorted. “Neither of us have had a little lady.”

“Alright.”

Chris Argent showed up sometime between cereal and toast, easily saving John from the whys and upsets of a new routine.

Apparently she hated orange juice.

Now she was sitting with Rowan – a stuffed horse Chris had snagged from some storage box of Allison’s. John had the computer in front of him, while Argent cleared up the mess in the kitchen. Time for some answers.

“What’s your Dad’s name?”

“Peter.”

“And… Tato?” John asked with a hitch in his throat

“Stiles.”

So it was him.

“Where do you live?”

“With Dad.”

John sighed. He could come back to that.

“How did you hurt your arm?” he asked gently. Nadia thunked her cast against the table.

“The bad people.”

“How did you get here?”

“Dunno. Magic.”

Magic. That was a lead of sorts.

“Where are your Dads?”

“Dunno.”

“Are they with the bad people?”

She stared at Rowan and pushed her face into the toy, looking scared up at John and shook her head while shrugging.

“Okay, okay, is there anything you can tell me to help find your Dads?” John asked. She frowned.

“Want Dad,” she said. John took a calming breath as the tot suddenly launched into him crying.

“Sh, it’s okay, we’ll find them. I promise, we’ll find them.”

July

It was odd.

It was wonderful.

College had wrapped up for the summer and the pack had swept in and swept up Nadia like she was one of their own. Malia and Scott would take her on tiny hikes in the woods. Hayden and Lydia would watch movies and take her to adventure zone funland. Melissa would get soaked during bath time. Allison would read to her before bed. Then make goo goo eyes with Scott. Then Melissa would look at John horrified.

It was perfect.

Deaton seemed to be more interested in where she had shown up rather than why she had shown up. Seemed intent that she be kept in the McCall household.

“To be as accurate as to throw a child with a broken arm onto a bed belies familiarity with the arrival location. Whoever sent her here knows Scott. Sent her to him specifically.”

And of course any news on the serial killer Stiles and his alpha Peter?

“I’ve contacted my people Sheriff but it could take some time.”

Great. Thank you Deaton.

August

Kindergarten.

It came with a whole host of problems. Who do they say this kid belongs to?

There are a whole host of rumours. Concerning Scott. And it kills the Sheriff, it does, to hear people talk about his son and Allison like that but…

It easier to let people make up their own stories.

Maybe an early retirement was in order. He could put his endorsement behind Jordan, stay on as a weekend deputy. Be around, but just, less. It would mean more time for Nadia, and for the supernatural malarkey. Melissa was about to get that promotion, Scott wasn’t at home so that helped money wise – especially since Rafa had pulled a college fund out his ass at the last minute…

This could work.

September

Nadia was hurt. Badly. She was in the hospital. Deaton was gone the exact moment he was needed. Melissa says her vitals are all funny, the doctors can’t make sense of her. Every time he sees that little girl with her brown hair and her moles lying so still on that hospital bed, so pale and -

It’s like Claudia all over again.

“John -”

“No. There must be something else we can do. Someone else we can -”

John cut himself off because duh. There is someone else they can call.

“Have Scott text me Derek Hale’s mobile number.”

“Of course,” Melissa replied. “I think he’s abroad somewhere with Cora.”

It took hours. John sat by Nadia’s bed holding her hand in a painfully familiar way. She’s so still. It’s crazy. This girl runs rings around all of them. The most energetic little thing he’s ever seen. She can’t be this still, this quiet, this –

The phone rings.

“John? You said it’s urgent,” Derek said quickly.

“Yes, it is. We have a little girl here. Nadia. She’s four. She’s a werewolf. There was a plant in the preserve. Allison said it was yellow aconite. Scott seems to have healed fine but Nadia is in the ICU. I don’t… we don’t know how to help her.”

There was breathing on the other end for a few moments. Then talking. John could hear Cora. Then a shout.

“Did you say Nadia?” Derek’s voice crackled over the dodgy connection.

John frowned. “Yes. Her name’s Nadia.”

“And she’s four? Brown hair, moles?”

John nodded. “Yes. She appeared in Scott’s bed about -”

“Three months ago?”

“Yes.”

Derek sighed. There was more talking.

“I have her brother here.”

John’s heart swooped. “Her brother? She has a brother? She hasn’t - ”

“I didn’t know he had a sister till right now so. Yeah. She’s not a werewolf.”

John took a deep breath. “Not a werewolf.”

“She’s something else. Barry says she’ll get better on her own. You just have to wait.”

John shook his head. “That’s not good enough. She’s hurt. She’s - ”

“She’s healing. She’ll be fine. Yellow aconite just takes a while. She’s young, but strong. Like when Liam was in that car crash in a coma for a week. Healing takes energy, time.”

John took another deep breath. “Barry?”

Derek grunted. “Looks like it’s another trip back to Beacon Hills.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

It took three days for Nadia to open her eyes.

The longest three days of John’s life.

October

Sometimes John walks into rooms, a name on his lips to call but he just can’t quite remember who he was looking for. Why he even went into the room. What he was searching for.

Melissa would raise an eyebrow at him and he would snort.

He was getting old.

Allison grinned as Nadia pounced on her and toppled her to the ground.

“I win again!”

“Oh no!” Allison said. “I’ll never survive. Go on without me.”

“Okay!” Nadia replied running away to the barbeque.

“Oi! Don’t really leave me, you little traitor!” Allison said racing after her and picking her up. Nadia shrieked in delight.

“Down down! I want foooooooooooooood,” she pretended to howl.

“Your plate is with aunty Malia,” Melissa called. Allison carried Nadia and deposited her next to Malia.

“Lunch.”

“Lunch,” Malia replied, pushing a little plate of half burger and fries to her. She snatched it.

“How long till Barry?”

Malia brought out her phone and showed Nadia a photo. “Look he’s on a boat now. He’s getting closer.”

That seemed to placate her, for now.

John tapped Allison’s shoulder. She turned easily.

“Any news from your father?”

Allison’s face clouded. “No luck so far.”

John sighed. “Typical they choose now to have a low profile.”

“Well, that may be a good thing, right? Means we’re on the right track,” Allison said grabbing a plate. “Everyone’s hiding.”

“Yeah.”

November

“I want Dad!” Nadia screamed throwing her cup across the room.

“Nadia - ”

“I WANT TATO!”

John wasn’t sure what he did to set her off. None of the others seemed to cause these fits of rage. Everyone else got the sad tears. He always always got the tantrums, leaving John wondered what he did wrong.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH - ”

“Nadia! This isn’t helping anyone.”

“I WANT - ”

“I want him too!” John yelled back. Shit. He’s not supposed to yell back. “Nadia, I’m sorry, but if I know where your Dads were I’d bring them to you I’d -”

“Where’s Barry! I want Barry!”

John sighed, taking out his phone.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Derek, is Barry – yes please.”

“Put her on,” came a young voice.

“Nadia, Barry’s on the - ”

Nadia leapt up and grabbed the phone straight out of John’s hand, running out the room and slamming the door to her room. John sighed. For whatever reason he seemed to miss Claudia the most in the face of these tantrums.

Sometimes he wonders what it’d be like to raise his own child. He holds Nadia in his arms when she can’t sleep, rocks her in a way he’s never been taught, looks at her freckles and dark hair and little upturned nose and thinks…

She could have been theirs.

December

“We’ll be there in an hour or two,” Derek said over the phone.

“Thank fuck,” Scott replied over the hands free. John rolled his eyes but echoed the sentiment, Nadia was getting more and more ratty as time wore on.

“I’m sure Nadia will still be awake to see you,” John replied, pulling into the parking lot of Walmarts. “We’re just about to shop. Want anything?”

“Reese’s Pieces!” Barry shouted over the speaker phone. John laughed.

“Heard.”

“We’ll see you soon John.”

“Thanks Derek.”

They hung up and John and Scott tumbled out the car.

“Any clues as to what they might want for Christmas?” Scott asked.

“Every time I ask Nadia she asks for her Dads,” John sighed. Scott grimaced.

“That’s hard,” Scott said. “Especially since…”

“Since what?”

Scott shrugged. “I noticed she started calling you grampa,” he said lightly pulling a trolley out from the isle and pushing it towards John.

John swallowed as he grabbed the trolley. “Yeah, one of the neighbours called me that, then she asked google what it meant and now… Gramma and Grampa.”

Scott grinned. “I know – I mean, we all love her, you know? From the start, I mean, it’s like she’s a part of us.”

John nodded.

“So when her Dads show up…”

John glanced over at Scott.

“I mean. They’re serial killers. And they… they lost her.”

“Scott. No one - ” John gripped the shopping trolley hard. “No one can replace her parents. No one.”

Scott stared at John for a moment before nodding. “I know. I know that.”

They pushed the trolley in silence for a few moments.

“So… trucks or barbies?”

Scott grinned. “You’re so behind with the times, Gramps, we get both obviously!”

Nadia was standing in front of the door, staring. John was sitting at the kitchen island watching her with a coffee in his hand. Melissa had to work last minute, and Scott and Allison were upstairs. John didn’t want to think about what that meant. Again. Those two…

Nadia perked up suddenly. Going from eerily frozen to bouncing off the walls.

“They’re heerrrreeeeeeeeee,” she hollered.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get the door,” John said, delighted she hadn’t leapt up and tried to rip the lock off the door. Now John was closer to the door he too could hear the car doors slam, the thumps of feet running to the door. He opened the front door just in time to see a dark blur go by him and barrel into Nadia.

John gave a small wave to Derek and Cora dragging bags out the back of their car before turning to the children.

Well.

He hadn’t expected that.

Barry was thirteen? Maybe fourteen?

And black. Super black. Not one white parent. Not if he had to guess. No way. So –

Derek stood at the door staring at Nadia.

“John.”

“Derek.”

Derek frowned at John for a moment.

“Are we sure they’re siblings?”

“Well… their parents are men… we couldn’t have expected… So…” John fumbled over the words.

“Derek!” Scott called racing down the stairs.

“Scott,” Derek said with a nod. Scott clapped him on the shoulder and took Derek’s bag, chattering him away into the kitchen. Cora stayed in the doorway.

“Is that normal?” she asked gesturing to the kids. John looked down. Barry was crouched on the floor arms around Nadia as Nadia stood on tip toes, arms locked around Barry’s neck, eyes closed, not speaking.

“Do we care?” John asked. Cora shrugged, walking into the house and easily finding herself the coffee.

“What is that?” Barry spat.

John glanced around, wondering what could cause such venom. Allison stood at the top of the stairs.

“That’s Aunty Allison. She’s great. She reads me comic books.”

Barry looked suspicious as Allison came down the stairs. She flashed her dimpled smile.

“It’s nice to meet you Barry. Nadia’s missed you.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t speak to me,” Barry said slowly. “And, obviously, don’t touch me.”

Allison’s eyes widened in shock but she gracefully nodded and went into the kitchen.

“Not nice,” Nadia murmured.

“Not real,” Barry murmured back.

“You too. Wanna meet Malia!” She yelled. Barry grinned.

“Definitely.”

“I’m sorry, I just thought - ”

“No. I assumed too.”

Derek, Cora, John and Malia sat around the kitchen island staring at each other. The thumps and squeals from Scott, Barry, and Nadia upstairs a strange yet appropriate soundtrack for their conversation. On who keeps them.

“We can’t let - ” Cora cut herself off.

“We feel the same way.”

“Why can’t - ”

John sighed.

“We don’t separate them. Agreed?”

Everyone around the table nodded.

“Keep them in America. Agreed?”

Nods all round. Nobody wanted to smuggle the identity-less children out of the states. Getting Barry in was hard enough.

“Keep them in Beacon Hills.”

Derek and Cora glanced at each other, a silent conversation of eyebrows.

“Fine,” Cora growled out. Derek nodded.

“Great. Now - ”

“You don’t have the space for them,” Derek interrupted.

“Your loft isn’t exactly child friendly,” Malia cut in.

“I bought a house.”

John blinked and stared at Cora. Derek’s eyebrows were raised so high they were in his hair.

“It’s… big,” she muttered. “Eight bedrooms.”

“You… house?” John said eloquently.

“I got a deal. Had some renovators go in and make it nice,” she sulked.

Derek blinked. “You bought - ”

“Everyone’s welcome,” Cora said talking over her brother. “Anyone’s welcome. Four rooms going.”

“Me,” Malia said immediately. Pragmatic as always.

“Fine,” Cora replied.

“I…” John croaked. “I’d have to discuss it with - ”

“It’s on Mayborne,” Cora replied.

“But that’s only over the road.”

“Yup.”

John reached over the isle and grasped Cora’s hand.

“Thank you.”

Cora squeezed back.

“So then,” John said leaning back. “What year is Barry in at school?”

January

John panted as he hid behind the tree, gun drawn, trying to catch his breath. He could see Allison throw her bow onto her shoulder and climb, Scott was in the clearing already – talking to it.

“We want you to stop. We need you to stop,” Scott said calmly and evenly.

“I need to find my eggs. I need to.”

John shuddered at the voice. Scraping like metal and thin like a frail old woman, it made him feel nauseous.

“We can help find your eggs. We’re asking you to stop this method of looking. Killing people is not good. Leaving people mad and injured is not good. We can look a different way.”

“A… different way…” she groaned.

“Yes,” Scott replied. “I promise. We can find them, together.”

A rustle in the trees made John look away. A dark blur moved, John raised his gun but stopped when he saw glowing eyes.

“Barry?” he whispered. Barry was suddenly in front of him, a small pouch hanging from his fingertips.

“I found the eggs.”

Suddenly there was a screech. John turned just in time to see the unnaturally tall… thing loom over them both. John thrust a hand out keeping Barry behind, fear gripped him tight.

“Hush, Mother, your nest is safe,” Barry said.

The… thing… Mother, shrank slowly down until she was eye level with Barry. Scott was just behind her, eyes red.

“You are fair. Mother gives thanks,” came a rasping response.

“Mother owes a fair debt,” Barry replied stepping forward.

“Mother will remember.”

Barry handed over the pouch and Mother reached in revealing five tiny eggs – John may have mistaken them for quail’s eggs had they not been so perfectly spherical.

“Mother says goodbye fair one.”

“Go well.”

Then she was gone.

John felt like he could finally breathe.

“What was that?” Allison asked as she jumped down from the trees.

“Still not sure, but Barry managed to give her what she wanted.”

“That’s not what I meant. That conversation… what was that?” Allison asked looking at Barry.

Barry flicked his eyes up and down at Allison. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“You do.”

“Guys,” John said raising his hand. “Let’s start heading back, alright?”

The group slowly turned and trudged back the way they came.

“It was strange,” John said quietly as Scott and Allison led the way. “The… way you spoke. The words you spoke.”

Barry shrugged. “Felt natural.”

“You once said that Nadia wasn’t a werewolf,” John said. “You?”

Barry looked down. “I’m… I’m not prepared to talk about that.”

John placed a hand on Barry’s shoulder. “Alright, kiddo. But… It’s not something that would help us find Peter and Stiles, is it?”

Barry shook his head. “No. It won’t help us. It might help them…” Barry clenched his fists. “They should have found us by now. They should… they should already know where we are. That was the whole point.”

“Don’t worry,” John said as they came to the edge of the woods. “That’s my job, alright? How did you get out here anyway? Does Derek even know you’ve left the house?”

February

Barry had been suspended. Again. Which was why he was helping around the department.

Well… helping was pushing it.

“Then what happened?”

“Baz, you do know I have work to do, right?” Jordan said with a laugh.

“Come on! It must be nice to tell this to someone? Who wasn’t there – I mean, a co-worker just set you on fire! And that’s how you find out you’re a hell hound! It’s like a tv show!”

“That’s not how I found out. That’s just when I realised I was…” Jordan shrugged. “We didn’t find out what I was until later.”

“Okay so - ”

“Kiddo,” John said interrupting the interrogation. “Go get us some lunch, alright,” he said handing over some money. Barry sighed.

“Fine.”

“And no salads,” John said sternly. Barry gave him a funny look.

“…Sure?” he said taking the money and trotting off. Jordan snorted.

“What?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Damn right, nothing sir,” John muttered into his files.

Barry has his feet up on John’s desk and he’s staring unfocused.

“Barry?”

He blinked and jumped a little.

“Sorry?”

“Feet off,” John said. “And bum off too, that’s my chair.”

“But not your desk,” Barry replied, taking his feet down and leaning forwards on his elbows instead.

“What do you mean?”

“This desk is one of the smaller ones, from the deputy’s bull pen, ring, whatever,” Barry said. “How come? Sentimental value? Was this the one you had when you were a deputy?”

John forced a smile. “Something like that. Why don’t you ask Romero if you can help her file?”

“Fine,” he grouched, sulking through into the next room. John edged slowly towards the desk and placed his palm over the spot he knew had been vandalised those years before. That empty tug that haunted him sometimes. In those moments before waking and sleeping.

Kocham Cię, Tato.

March

“Absolutely not.”

“But Barry, I wanna!”

John came in through the side door of the kitchen.

“Hey everyone,” he said easily, but was entirely ignored. Barry was sitting at the kitchen breakfast counter, Nadia bouncing in her chair beside him, Allison in the doorway with Cora.

“Barry we need to get you new clothes. Nadia has a birthday party. I can’t be in two places at once,” Cora stated.

“I can go myself - ” Barry started.

“No,” Cora said firmly, arms crossed. “Nadia is safe with Allison.”

Barry’s face twisted up.

“Barry, please…” Allison started.

“It’s not your fault,” Barry spat. “It’s just who you are as a person.”

Allison gritted her teeth. “Barry - ”

“Walking or driving.”

Allison frowned. “What?”

“Are you walking to the party or driving?” Barry asked again, super slowly. Allison huffed.

“It’s on Elm. So… we could walk?” Allison looked at Nadia who shot her a huge smile.

“Fine,” Barry said cuttingly. “Don’t drive her.”

“And why can’t I drive her?” Allison asked.

“You might disappear,” Barry replied sarcastically.

“Shoes. Let’s go,” Cora intervened. Barry stood, glaring at Allison.

“Bye bye, Nadia,” he said kissing Nadia on the forehead as he left.

“Bye bye, Barry,” she called after him. The door closed. John gruffed.

“Papa!” Nadia said waving her hands up.

“Małpa,” he said picking her up. “How are you today?”

“Sad, but excited. I’m going to party!”

“Party! That’s so grown up, you must be very excited, so why are you sad?”

“It’s Meg’s birthday and we have cake and hats and sinsug awnd pwesints awnd eerfin and wen can I have mines?” Nadia ended on a question with her big blue eyes shining up at John. John froze.

“Can you say that again for me?” John asked, having lost the conversation in the middle of the babble. “I’m so old I can’t hear anymore.”

Nadia giggled. “I want my birthday soon, silly grampa!” she said. John looked over to Allison. Allison shrugged.

“Okay, we’ll ask Barry when we should have your birthday, okay?” John replied, popping her onto the ground. “Now why don’t you show papa your book for this month?”

Nadia scampered off into the house and John sat down.

“Didn’t know you were coming by today?” Allison said as she slumped into a chair.

“Just for a little bit before my shift,” John said, sitting across from her. “Seems I caught the end of an… argument?”

Allison shrugged again. “Barry just….” Allison looked away as her eyes watered slightly. “Hates me.”

John sighed. “Ally…”

“It’s just hard because Nadia – she’s never not liked me? But since Barry’s been here he’s…”

“She’s following her brother’s lead,” John surmised. “Do we know why…?”

Allison shook her head. “At least he’s speaking to me now. At least, when there’s a group around. Not by ourselves. He’ll just blank me completely.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, really. Anyway, I better google how to get to this party.”

“I’ll hunt down Nadia.”

April

“I’ve had some news. Apparently there’s been a massive break out in some sort of… prison facility run by hunters. It’s very well possible that Stiles and Peter are part of the group that escaped.”

“Thanks Deaton. Chris already texted me that.”

May

It was nice having Chris back around again. Allison always seemed brighter when he was around. Melissa too come to think of it. Argent was just… an important part of the family.

Still no news on Stiles and Peter.

Barry was doing better at school – he had started disappearing into the woods though. Derek often had to track him down in his wolf form before he could find him. It was a win lose situation.

Nadia was having a birthday in June. A year. Nadia had been with them a year.

He wasn’t sure he could let her go anymore.

“Barry,” John sighed in relief.

Barry opened his eyes, glowing – but not their usual wolf gold. A silver. Maybe even white.

“John.”

John took a step forwards.

“You know, I’ve never found the nemeton before,” he said, sounding more brave than he felt. “Apparently she’s picky about being seen.”

Barry smiled and ran a hand affectionately over the stump he was sitting on. “She reminds me of… my family,” Barry glanced up at John. “My other family.”

“Well this family had a bit of a scare when Derek couldn’t find you. Mind if I send them a text?” John said flipping out his phone and sending a mass text to the others. “There we go,” John said then stepped closer again. “Is it okay if I… uh, I mean.”

“You can sit,” Barry said with a smirk. “Her bite is worse than her bark.”

John blinked. “That was hilarious,” he replied as he settled onto the stump next to Barry. “But you gotta stop doing this kiddo, well…” John amended. “In the middle of the night. Without telling anyone.”

Barry stared off into the trees.

“It’s strange,” Barry started suddenly. “To have you all so concerned. About me. When I’m the scariest thing in the wood.”

John inhaled, thinking over his answer.

“Being… different, or powerful, or able to protect yourself, doesn’t… Doesn’t stop you from being ours. Being our kid.”

“I’m not a kid John,” Barry said, white eyes snapping to John’s, voice gravelling deep. John swallowed.

“Yesterday you snorted spaghetti out your nose.”

Barry’s face was deadpan for a whole five seconds before he grinned and his eyes faded to muddy brown.

“That was pretty cool.”

John bumped a shoulder against Barry’s with a chuckle.

“I can’t find them,” Barry said gently. “I’ve been getting to know the nemeton, but Stiles is out of reach somehow and she can’t help. I’ve been trying to listen to my family, but they just don’t care,” Barry grit his teeth. “It is their way concerning us.”

“Derek…” John sighed. “Derek doesn’t believe you’re anything other than a werewolf.”

Barry smiled. “No werewolf would. No one supernatural does. Why do you think only you can see it?”

“And Allison,” John pressed gently. Barry’s eyes darkened.

“She doesn’t count.”

“Barry - ”

“Let’s get you home, old man. You’ll catch your death of cold out here,” Barry said rising and gliding off the tree. John groaned and stood up with a creak. Maybe he was too old to be doing this.

June

Party day.

Nadia had been bouncing around at Granma’s house all morning – her birthday beginning with a girl’s sleepover with her friends from kindergarten. Now they were gone, it was time for phase two. A picnic by the lake in the preserve - an old Hale Haunt Derek said.

“Do you want wellies or booties?” Melissa asked as Nadia sat on the stairs swinging her legs.

“Booties,” she decided. “Blue for my nails,” she said presenting her sparkly blue nails.

“Blue booties it is,” Melissa said pulling them out.

“Blue is the best.”

“Blue is just pretty,” Malia added, then frowned. “I do hope Derek’s remembered to pack the cake.”

Nadia’s eyes widened. “You better check,” she said solemnly. Malia nodded and whipped out her phone.

“We’re all good to go,” Melissa said, finishing the laces. “To the car!”

John, Mel, and Malia followed the racing tot out to the car.

“Come on!”

As it turned out Derek didn’t forget the cake.

He forgot the candles.

“I can’t believe we’re having a party here,” Lydia said from beside John. John turned to look at her. “Considering all the dead bodies I’ve found in this wood.”

“Yeah, well,” John scoffed. “Not recently.”

Lydia gave him a shrewd look.

“I’m going to braid the birthday girl’s hair,” she said succinctly standing up and joining the main group.

It was a nice spot Derek had picked. The lake was a great body of water, lying over there horizontally, there were picnic tables here, a tire swing over there, some pebbles for skipping stones, a few rock pools, a suitably large rock for barbequing on. It was great. Shame he and Barry had to go and hunt down birthday candles.

“John?”

John glanced over at Lydia. She was standing by the tire swing where Scott and Liam were trying to make the largest jumps into the water.

“Where’s Nadia?”

The thing about werewolves is everyone hears you.

John glanced around and looked to Scott who tilted his head, a little like a dog, then frowned. John stood up.

“Nadia!” he shouted. “Nadia, food!”

That was bound to work.

“Her scent is this way,” Malia shouted. John moved. So did Scott.

“There’s an unfamiliar scent,” Scott said.

There. A man was holding Nadia. Crying. Nadia was crying. He –

Scott stepped forwards snarling, eyes flashing red, Malia’s claws and fangs were out, but he –

“Scott. Malia,” John warned, heart pounding. “That’s him. That’s Peter.”

Scott looked at John.

“I think that’s her Dad.”

Scott was finding it hard to coax Malia down from her ferocious state, but Peter simply walked over to her, placed an arm around her shoulders and linked her into his hug with Nadia. Malia immediately melted into the embrace. John was stunned.

His phone was buzzing.

“Hello,” he croaked.

“Peter and Stiles are here. Peter’s heading for Nadia. Don’t freak out he - ”

“Yeah Barry, we got him. Just… bring the candles, alright?”

Scott’s gone back to the party, to tell people what’s happening, and John’s just stood there like –

“Papa,” Nadia said, twisting. “Food?”

John let’s out an ugly snort sob and nods.

“Sure thing, małpa. Food.”

John found himself catching Peter’s eye. A steady assessing gaze.

“What are we doing out in the woods today, jellybean?” Peter asked.

John’s insides twist. Jellybean. Adorable. Adorable like the unclosed murder cases in the file under his desk.

“It’s ma burfday,” Nadia said burrowing her face into Peter’s neck.

“Am I terribly late?”

“Late,” Nadia repeated squeezing tighter.

“Not as late as Tato,” Peter replied stepping past John. “I imagine we’re going to the lake. Have you played on the tire swing yet?”

Nadia’s nattering faded into the woods as John stood trying to collect himself. He knew this day might come – had hoped for Nadia’s sake, but now his baby was being taken away, now it was all happening again –

“John.”

John blinked at Malia.

“Party first.”

John nodded. Malia must be going through the same thing.

“Party first,” he croaked, turning back.

The tension was like an undercurrent thrumming through the group, like Peter was a danger, like he could turn into a vicious beast at any moment, like he could kill them all in a heartbeat…

Maybe it was just John.

Maybe not, judging the way Lydia stared.

Nadia didn’t want put down, couldn’t release Peter, and it didn’t seem like Peter could release her. Now is this light John could see the jawline, the brow, the blue eyes, even the shade of brown hair… Peter was her dad, no doubt.

Then again, maybe all werewolves looked alike in some way. John was half convinced Nadia was the spitting image of Cora some days.

Nadia freaked out and bounced.

“Tato tato!”

“I can hear him too,” Peter said easily, not standing from the picnic bench even though Nadia clearly wanted him too. “Who’s with him?”

“Barry! Uncle Derek!” Nadia shouted.

“Good girl,” Peter praised. “You’ve gotten so clever since we’ve been away.”

Peter smothered Nadia with kisses all over her face which made her squeal. John’s heart flipped.

“Peter!”

John’s head turned as Barry shouted and raced across the clearing. He barrelled into Peter’s side, Peter easily tucked the teen under his arm.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, we’re here, it’s okay,” Peter gently shushed the shaking teen.

John glanced back up and saw Stiles. John’s heart clenched, he stepped forwards before he caught himself.

“What happened to Tato?” Nadia whispered.

“He got hurt, jellybean. Shall we go see?” Peter said gently.

Got hurt was an understatement.

His fucking eye was missing.

Peter stood and brought Nadia over to Stiles. Stiles held out shaky arms and gathered Nadia close to him, whispering gently to her. He could imagine what he was saying. He would be saying it too.

I’m sorry it took so long, I’m sorry I was away, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, I’m sorry you were alone, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Actual footage of me right now:

Omigod, you guys! @triggertinks made an awesome sequel for For Certain Values of Love!

I am so happy right now!!!

#this is amazing #sequel #submission #gift #thankyou

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