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singledarkshade · 3 years ago

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New Old Friend

Part Five

(Part One, Part Two, Part Three and Part Four can be found here)

Jack sat and waited for Henry to speak.

“Alright,” the other man took a seat, “As you know, before I came to Eureka I was working at NASA. I was disillusioned with what I was doing and the people I was working with. I had received the offer to come to Eureka but wasn’t going to accept.” He paused thinking back before glancing at Rip, “And then a light filled the room leaving a man on the floor with a brightly glowing shard of glass.”

Jack looked at him, looked at Rip then looked back and laughed, “You’re winding me up.”

“No,” Henry replied, “I’m not. Rip is not from around here.”

“You mean like England?”

“Technically that is correct, but I am also from an alternate universe,” Rip told him, pausing for a moment as Jack’s eyes widened in shock before continuing, “I was a time traveller and used the core from my ship to stop a demon from destroying time. When it exploded, I was thrown into another universe and I will leave once I find the shard of the core that landed here.”

Jack stared at him before asking amused, “Of course and I suppose you need my help to find it?”

“Actually, it’s currently in Global Dynamics,” Rip replied.

Jack looked between Henry and Rip before demanding, “This is an elaborate joke.”

“No,” Henry assured him, “Jack, I know how bizarre this is, but I promise you that this is real. You’ve dealt with enough during your time in Eureka not to close your mind to the possibilities.”

Laughing Jack demanded, “But time travel? Alternate realities? That’s science fiction. Even Stark would agree with me.”

“I’ll admit,” Henry said, “Until I met Rip, I believed that too but it’s not. He’s the reason I came to Eureka because he told me I would, because that was when he first met me. And that this was my home.”

Frowning, Jack asked, “What?”

“I met Henry for the first time when I stepped into the Sheriff’s station earlier today,” Rip told him, “But I will see him again when I leave here. Although I have no idea when that will be.”

“I am not sure this was a good idea, Captain,” Gideon noted as she stood at Rip’s side watching Jack pace thinking over all they’d told him. They’d decided to turn off the interface while talking to the Sheriff as having Gideon there would possibly be a distraction from what they were explaining, “He is finding it difficult to accept the information you and Dr Deacon are imparting.”

“I really don’t think being arrested right now is helpful,” Rip murmured to her, “Telling him is our best option to avoid having to break out of jail…again.”

Jack turned to him, “Where did the papers you wrote come from? Are you taking credit for someone else’s work?”

“Both papers I wrote,” Rip replied, “Presumably when I meet Henry again.”

“So, you just knocked out two papers in the few hours you were there that people like Stark and Alison think are real,” Jack demanded.

Rip shrugged, “Actually they were papers I wrote in my first year of training. I have an eidetic memory, so it won’t take me long to rewrite or dictate them.”

“Training?” Jack asked, looking confused, “For time travel?”

Rip nodded, “I belonged to an organisation called the Time Masters. Our mission was to protect time from those who tried to change it to their own advantage.”

He left out the rest, not wanting to get into what had happened to his family, to the Time Masters, or with the Legends.

“What about the AI you had following you around?” Jack asked, “Did you do that in a few hours.”

Pulling out the disc, Rip smiled, “Gideon is the AI for my time ship, the Waverider. We have a telepathic connection which allows her to connect to me wherever I end up. Henry created the interface to let her to interact with this world.”

“This is crazy,” Jack shook his head.

Activating the interface, Rip turned to Gideon, “Can you show him the shard?”

“Of course, Captain Hunter,” Gideon replied before turning to the Sheriff, “Please direct your attention to the screen, Sheriff Carter.”

Confused Jack turned as she activated the viewscreen, showing the security footage from the lab where the shard was sitting glowing.

“That could be anything,” Jack noted.

“Wait till Rip gets near it,” Henry chuckled, “He glows too.”

Jack rubbed his hand over his face, “Alright, say I believe you. What now?”

“We need to work out how to get to the lab it’s in without Nathan or Alison finding out,” Henry told him.

“As it has been a long day,” Gideon spoke up, “I believe you should discuss this while having your evening meal.”

Rip rolled his eyes as the other two laughed, “Ignore my mother hen.”

“Captain, we had an agreement,” Gideon reminded him.

“But she is right,” Rip acquiesced because he’d still be nagged by her if he turned off the link, “And thinking about it, I could use something to eat.”

Henry nodded, “Well, I promised Vincent I would bring you back to Café Diem. Jack, want to join us?”

“Why not?” he shrugged.

Rip mused as he thought over what he wanted to eat as they found a booth. Gideon was looking around interested, Rip had left the interface on so she could interact with the others. He knew she liked being seen and heard by more than him.

“Welcome,” Vincent appeared, “What can I get for you?”

Jack grinned, “I’ll take my usual.”

“One burger and chips for the Sheriff,” Vincent sighed before adding, “One of these days I’ll get you to try something different.”

Henry laughed, “I’ll have the risotto.”

“And you two?” Vincent turned to Rip and Gideon.

Rip shrugged, “I think I will let you choose for me today.”

Vincent’s eyes lit up, “I will make you something very special. And for the lady?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t eat,” Gideon replied with a sweet smile, “But thank you.”

At Vincent’s confused look she passed her hand through the table, and he nodded in understanding. Rip smiled, Eureka was in some ways the perfect place for people like him and part of him wished he could stay here but he needed to get back to Gideon properly.

“Okay,” Jack said, “I may not fully believe you but,” he grinned, “I do want to hear some time travel stories.”

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

“Nathan,” Alison walked into the lab, “What do you have?”

He turned to her and smiled, “The energy coming off this thing is incredible. We could power the town with this for hundreds of years.”

Alison stared at him, “That’s not good, Nathan. This thing appeared from nowhere in the highest security section of GD, we have no idea where it came from or what it’s doing here. We need to be careful. Remember the artifact.”

Nathan flinched slightly at the thought before replying, “I am just testing it, Ali. I promise no protocols will be missed and no steps will be skipped.”

“Good,” she replied, “And keep me up to date on absolutely everything that happens.”

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

Gideon watched her Captain as he talked to the other two men. She could see he was enjoying himself, especially as he could be himself and there was no pretence he had to remember.

She theorised if she could find a way to transport the Waverider here and allow him to stay. Unfortunately, it was not possible. Which she already knew but for her Captain, she wanted to check fully. He deserved to be happy, he’d lost so much.

“Here we go,” Vincent appeared once more, “Burger and chips for the Sheriff, risotto for Henry and for Dr Hunter I have roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes with honey glazed carrots and parsnips.”

Rip took an appreciative sniff of the plate and smiled at Vincent, “This looks incredible, thank you.”

As they all began to eat, Gideon excused herself to wander for a little while. She wasn’t sure how far away from Rip she could be and still be seen by the residents of the small town. She knew how far she could be from him and still be connected to this world and wondered if it would be the same.

People greeted her as she sat outside the café, taking in the view. No one knew she wasn’t human, that she wasn’t one of them and she liked it. The only one who treated her like this normally was Rip, to him she had always been more than just an AI.

She wanted him home with her but getting to spend time with him like this was something she would never have been able to experience if Rip had not used the core against Mallus.

An alarm sounded and Gideon checked the Waverider quickly surprised to find it was all quiet. Looking around she saw that no one appeared to have noticed the siren which meant she was receiving data through the interface.

Focussing on the alert, Gideon grimaced, this was not good.

Rip finished his meal and agreed instantly when Vincent offered them dessert.

“Is there anything particular you like?” Vincent asked him.

Rip shrugged, “I will leave it entirely in your hands.”

Excitement covered Vincent’s face, “Oh, you will not regret that.”

“You won’t,” Jack agreed, “Everything Vincent makes is incredible. If SARAH didn’t nag me, I would eat every meal here every day.”

Chuckling Rip leaned back, “You have an impressive world. There is nothing like this in my own. A town dedicated to learning and discovery is an impressive feat.”

“We try our best,” Henry nodded, “Don’t always succeed but we do try.”

Jack laughed, “It’s a miracle we’re all still here considering some of the things those lunatics get up to.”

“I should introduce you to some of the people I used to work with,” Rip murmured.

Vincent reappeared suddenly, “Here we go, gentlemen. Triple chocolate fudge cake, Chantilly cream, with chocolate and salted caramel sauce.”

Taking a spoonful, Rip closed his eyes. Gideon would not be happy if he ate this too often but for the moment, he was sure she would permit the indulgence.

Just as he was finishing, Gideon returned looking grim. She motioned him to deactivate the interface which he did instantly.

“Captain,” she said, “There is a problem with the shard. I set up an alert so I would know if anyone interfered with it. The scientists in Global Dynamics are scanning the energy it is releasing. That energy is connected to you and even with the primitive equipment, could trace it.”

“Rip?” Henry asked worriedly, “Is something wrong? Is Gideon alright, has the interface damaged her?”

Frowning, Rip turned to his friend, “We may have a problem.”

#fic #rip fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #eureka #henry deacon #jack carter

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bleedinghearthalstead · 4 years ago

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SWAT!Jay / Upstead AU

A/N: Enjoy part 4! Crossposted on AO3. I’m also kinda hitting a wall, so feel free to suggest something you’d like to see in this universe :)

"Jay's at Med. Apparently he got injured during training." She sighs. "It's probably nothing, otherwise they would've called, but he can be a really lousy patient and he's gonna insist on checking himself out AMA."

Hank nods in understanding. "Not the first time?"

She sighs again, then rolls her eyes and confirms. "Not the first time."

"Target's name is Nathan Wilkins, 34 years old, served five years at Stateville for aggravated assault and armed robbery, recently paroled and eager to go back for another stint. Uniforms picked up his former cell mate James Warner yesterday after he was caught at a routine traffic stop with C4 and body armor in his trunk. Warner shared on his own volition that he and Wilkins were planning on hitting an underground money laundering operation in Pilsen-"

"Shit." All eyes turn to Hailey, who is frowning at her phone.

"Anything you want to share with class?" Adam asks, who was in the middle of his debrief, before Hailey's exclamation interrupted him.

"Sorry, keep going," she mutters, but she doesn't look up from her phone, quickly typing a reply, her expression sour.

Adam frowns. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, it's just-" She stops herself. "No, I'm sorry, I need to go." Hailey stands up from her seat on her desk, grabs her jacket off her chair and briskly walks off.

This is absolutely unusual behavior coming from Hailey, so Hank steps in and calls to her, "Detective Upton." Hailey skids to a halt before she reaches the stairs. "My office, now." Her sergeant's tone doesn't leave any room for discussion, but she also really doesn't have time for this, so she hurries into Hank's office, waiting impatiently for him to follow her. The whole team watches silently as their sergeant steps into his office after her and closes the door behind him. "Do you want to tell me what this is about?"

Hailey is fidgeting, not looking him in the eye. "I just really need to go right now. I'll be back soo-"

"Hailey," Hank snaps at her. "What is going on?"

She flinches slightly at his sharp tone. "Uhm, Jay's at Med. Apparently he got injured during training." She sighs. "It's probably nothing, otherwise they would've called, but he can be a really lousy patient and he's gonna insist on checking himself out AMA."

Hank nods in understanding. "Not the first time?"

She sighs again, then rolls her eyes and confirms. "Not the first time."

The older man nods again. "Go." At Hailey's hesitation, he repeats, "I said 'go'."

"Thanks, Hank," she says gratefully. "I'll be back in a couple of hours." With that, she rushes out the door, her team mates watching her in various degrees of confusion.

She only hears Hank's loud "Get back to work, people!" behind her.

* * * * *

When she gets to Gaffney, Jay is sitting on an exam bed and a nurse is sitting across from him. She is in the middle of putting a cast on Jay's left hand. Jay is wearing green gym shorts and a ratty grey Army t-shirt that he likes to wear when he works out. There's some new scrapes and bruises on his arms and legs, but he doesn't look any worse for wear.

As soon as he sees Hailey, he groans. "Who called you?"

Seeing with her own eyes that her husband is in fact fine, Hailey rolls her eyes at him. "Mitch texted me. He said you broke your hand when you fell off the cargo net."

"Mitch and his big mouth, I swear," Jay mutters, then indignantly says, "and I didn't 'fall'. Mitch and his fucking massive clown feet stomped on my hand, so it's his fault, and then my foot got caught in the net when I fe-" He stops himself before he finishes the word.

"Fell and landed on your hand?"

Jay continues his rant. "-and the coward doesn't even show up here himself, he calls-"

"Texted."

"-my wife!" He fumes. "Wait till I get my hands on fucking Bigfoot-"

Hailey walks up to him and puts her hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down so the nurse can finish her task without him moving around agitatedly. "You done?"

Jay deflates as soon as Hailey touches him. "Yes."

Hailey nods. "What did the doctor say?"

"Heeeeeyyy," comes from the door of the exam room, "if it isn't my favorite sister-in-law!"

Jay shakes his head while Hailey smiles and hugs the red-headed doctor that is her second-favorite Halstead. "Will, haven't seen you in a while."

"Well, I wish I saw you more often." He turns to Jay and pointedly looks at his broken hand that is being wrapped in bright white plaster. "At least I wish I saw less of this tire fire of a human being." Will anticipates his brother's reaction and narrowly dodges Jay's swing at him.

"Fuck off," the younger Halstead grumbles.

Hailey ignores their antics. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Yeah." Will walks up to the light box on the wall and points out the break or rather breaks on Jay's x-ray. "He broke the metacarpal bones of his left index and middle fingers, but they're clean breaks and the fractures are lined up, so they should heal without problem. He's gonna have the cast for at least three weeks-" Jay groans. "-and the doctor will determine at the check-up if he can have the cast removed. He'll probably have to wear a splint for another three weeks afterwards."

Jay rubs his healthy right hand over his face. "Six weeks!?" Hailey looks at Jay with a pained expression – this isn't going to be pretty. Her husband can get very restless when he cannot be physically active.

Will just rolls his eyes. "This isn't the first time you've broken your hand, this shouldn't be news to you."

"Again, fuck off."

"Well, stop breaking your damn hand."

Before the urge to slap them both upside the head gets too much, the only reason stopping her being that Jay is currently being treated at the hospital, Hailey quickly shuts down their bickering. "Guys, that's enough." She swears that the brothers are worse than her two nephews who are still in kindergarten.

"I'm all done now, Officer Halstead," the nurse announces and the two men at least look a little bit embarrassed that they had an unwitting audience.

Jay and Hailey thank the nurse and Will smiles at her apologetically. "Yeah, thanks, Lisa."

"No problem, Dr. Halstead."

As soon as the nurse is out of the room, Jay hops off the bed. "We done here?" He holds up his newly casted hand and looks at it in disdain.

Will nods. "You know the drill, be careful with the cast for a day or two until it's fully dried out, don't get the cast wet-"

"And don't stick anything down the cast, blah-di-blah." His older brother rolls his eyes at him. He and Hailey both know that Jay is terrible at that last bit, the itch usually the first thing that drives him mad.

"Here's a prescription for some pain medication." Will hands the note to Hailey and Jay just gives him the side eye.

Hailey reads over the prescription and it's just over-the-counter pain relievers that she doubts Jay is willing to take, but she'll make him take some later, whether he wants to or not. She notices that Jay is getting antsy, so she tries to wrap up their visit to Med as quickly as possible. "I gotta get back to work, let's get you home, huh?" Jay eagerly nods and they say their goodbyes to Will. "Will, why don't you come over to the house after your shift, watch the Blackhawks game with us?"

"Sure, why not."

All three of them know that this is code for 'keep Jay company in case Hailey can't get away from work'.

* * * * *

As soon as they get in the door of their house, Jay toes off his sneakers and walks straight into their living room, plopping down on the couch. Kicking up his feet on the coffee table and leaning back against the cushions, he lets out a relieved sigh. Hailey walks through to the kitchen and gets a glass of water, then hands two pills to Jay.

"Drink up." Jay grimaces at the pills that she dropped in his right hand, so Hailey adds, "It's just Advil."

"Fine," he huffs and pops them in his mouth, washing them down with the water that he takes from Hailey. Satisfied, she takes the glass back from him and goes to refill it, leaving it on the coffee table next to Jay's feet.

"Do you want to shower?" At Hailey's question, Jay looks down at himself. His grey shirt is stained with sweat and dirt. He pulls up the collar and sniffs, wrinkling his nose. He did run five miles and was on his second lap of the obstacle course when Mitch had not so gracefully squashed his hand and caused his fall. His wife nods before he says anything. "Come on, I'll help."

Jay sighs, but gets up and they walk upstairs together. He heads straight for the bathroom. Hailey disappears and comes back with a plastic bag and tape. While she was gone, Jay took off his shirt and shorts and is waiting for her in only his boxer briefs. All of her attention is on something else though. There is a huge red and purple bruise on the left side of his torso.

He catches her staring. "Nothing's broken, Ethan checked."

She tilts her head at him. "Anything else I need to know about?"

"Just my bruised ego," Jay laments. "The guys won't ever let me live that down."

"You sure you didn't hit your head too?" She sticks out her tongue at him.

"Ha ha, really funny."

Hailey takes the plastic bag and puts it over his cast, fixing it with tape. She nods at the shower. "You start and I'll help you with your right arm and back." Jay nods and then drops his boxer briefs. After she watches him step into the shower and close the curtain, she busies herself with grabbing his dirty clothes from the floor and throwing them in the hamper, then goes to their bedroom and comes back with a fresh t-shirt, boxers and sweatpants, the bathroom now steaming up.

Jay is standing under the hot water spray, his left fingertips hanging on to the curtain rail so his left hand is raised over his head. He is gingerly rubbing a wash cloth over his left side when the shower curtain opens behind him and he hears Hailey's voice, "Here, let me do the rest."

He hands her the wash cloth and winks at her. "Don't get wet." Hailey rolls her eyes.

"Turn your back to me and lift your right arm up a little," she directs him, then proceeds to carefully scrub his right arm and back, mindful not to put too much pressure on his injured side. She then motions for Jay to hand her the detachable shower head and rinses his back. When she is finished, she kisses him in the middle of his back. "All done."

He turns around and smiles when his wife hands him a towel. Leaning in, he gives her a soft kiss. "Thanks, babe." Before Jay can pull away, Hailey puts her hand on the back of his head and deepens the kiss, her fingers playing with the wet hair at the nape of his neck. When Hailey breaks away too soon, for Jay's taste anyways, he pouts. Hailey gives him a quick peck in apology, then sighs, "I really need to get back to work."

He is still pouting when he starts drying himself off, but then he quietly says, "You really didn't have to come to the hospital, I know you're busy." And it isn't like he didn't want her there, he always wants her by his side, but it really wasn't that bad and he swears he would've called her as soon as he was home.

"Just next time, text me yourself." Jay looks confused. "Or tell Mitch to text in full sentences. His first message just read 'Jay's at the hospital' and then he didn't reply for ten minutes."

"Fuck's sake." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I just got worried and by the time Mitch texted me back saying that you broke your hand, I was already on the way."

Jay kisses Hailey once more. "Again, I'm sorry. And I'm gonna smash Mitch's phone."

"Good." Hailey giggles, then throws the pair of boxers at Jay's face. "Now put on some clothes, lover boy."

* * * * *

Back at the district, the team is setting up for a raid of Wilkins' house. Hank pulls her to the side before she can go down to the basement to prepare her gear with the rest of the unit. "All good?"

Hailey gives her sergeant a small smile. "Yeah, he's fine. Thanks for letting me go."

Hank grunts and nods. "I'm sure that broken hand won't stop him for very long." With that, he walks off.

Hailey never figures out how the hell he knew that Jay broke his hand.

* * * * *

Bonus:

It's after 10 p.m. when Hailey gets back home, so the hockey game is already over. When she enters the living room, Jay and Will are lounging on the big sofa, Jay's left arm propped up on a pillow in his lap. They are watching reruns of The Simpsons and there's dirty dishes and beer bottles littering the coffee table. Figures. She is about to tell them off, but then she hears a noise coming from the kitchen.

"Hey, babe." Jay turns away from the TV to look at her and gives her a soft smile. He looks tired but relaxed. Again, there's a clanging sound, followed by a low curse. "Mitch made an apology lasagna."

She is greeted with the sight of a big burly man wearing her flowery chef's apron. "Oh hey, Hailey." Mitch looks at her nervously. "There's some leftover lasagna in the kitchen for you. I made sure the boys didn't eat the whole thing." He's gesturing for her to take a seat (or to not come into the kitchen?). "Sit down, I'll warm it up for you!"

Mitch scurries away and Hailey gives Jay a pointed look when he snorts. "What did you do?"

Jay points at himself with an innocent smile, which is obviously and totally fake. "Me? Nothing. Mitch is just really sorry he upset you with his texts today."

Hailey rolls her eyes, but steps over Jay's feet that are stretched out in front of him, then drops down on the couch between him and Will. She snuggles into Jay's right side and he slips his arm over her shoulders. She leans up and gives him a chaste kiss. "How's the hand?"

Her husband raises the offending object and turns his arm. There's already a SWAT sticker adorning the damn thing. "Sucks, but I'll live."

Mitch comes back with a massive and steaming hot piece of lasagna and puts it on the coffee table in front of Hailey, clearing away the dirty plates and bottles. He hands her cutlery and a napkin. "Thanks, Mitch."

"I'm really sorry, Hailey," he blurts out. Will and Jay try but fail to hold back their laughs. Hailey glares at both of them.

"It's okay, Mitch. It's not your fault Jay is so accident prone." Mitch lets out his breath, relieved. Will snort laughs and Jay punches him in the arm behind Hailey's back.

"Babe, that's harsh," Jay complains. Hailey just smirks at him and digs into her lasagna.

#upstead #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #swat!jay au #some hurt/comfort and fluff #featuring halstead bros being children #jay's swat team is afraid of hailey #bhhfic

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creativeskullcreations · 4 years ago

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HTaHHQ Episode 3: The Vengeance of an Artist (part 1)

Episode 3 is here! Nick has a job, but will Stacy go for it? Find out when the next chapter comes out! :D

The Oddballs belong to @enderdwarf123

Stacy had gotten quite used to her routine at the Studio. Go in, get list of tasks, then pick up Scout from Daisy. She then had to do the tasks she'd been assigned for the day, with Scout often "helping", to whatever effect she could. The most help she was able to help was when Stacy had to fetch props, since the Puppet always knew where they were. Sometimes they also worked in the cafeteria, but not anymore since Stacy accidentally set a microwave on fire.

In her defense, Scout had distracted while she was setting the time, so it wasn't entirely her fault. She just forgot to take a spoon out of a bowl, that's all.

Now the only time she went into the cafeteria was for lunch, which suited her just fine. It definitely beat having to eat with Mary in her office, even if she had to sit with the Oddballs. They were four young men, the youngest being a sixteen year old who went to the local high-school, and were always seen hanging out together. Stacy really only sat next to them because Nick Nack, who would often come to the cafeteria, avoided them like the plague.

Plus they didn't seem to mind she was there, just continuing to joke and talk, sometimes including her and Scout in their conversations. Which Scout especially loved, since it meant she got to try out the new swear words she was learning. Though Stacy worried about her new vocabulary, and made her promise to never use those words around Daisy.

"I mean it, too. She might not let us hang out together anymore if she finds out you know how to swear now." The girl told her, to which the Puppet had nodded solemnly, treating it with the utmost seriousness. Scout certainly didn't want to be separated from her only friend outside her siblings, and could tell that Stacy didn't either.

Currently, it was lunch time on Friday, right before Stacy could go and sit at home for the entire weekend. She had collected her food on a tray, and was making her way to their usual table while futilely trying to defend it from Scout. As they got close, the could hear some of the conversation going on there.

"Anyways, so after all of that, Beth totally took all of his underwear!" One of them, Nathan was saying as Stacy approached, tray balanced on her right hand while holding Scout to her chest with her left. Held as she was, the Puppet could only pout and wait until Stacy let her go.

"Seriously?!" Sam responded. "Dude that is sick! He had nothing left?" He sounded honestly curious, and Stacy was as well.

"Absolutely not!" Nathan told them. "I guess that's what you get when-"

"And the girl's back." Daniel warned, covering Nathan's mouth. "Time to stop talking about your stupid college stories before we all get in trouble."

"I don't mind. "Stacy said, putting down both tray and Puppet. She picked up one of the sandwich halves as she sat down. "It's not like I'm gonna tell on you." She took a bite out of her sandwich while Scout went for the chips, devouring them like Cookie Monster would cookies.

"Eeeeeh, maybe? I mean, you're only twelve." John told her. "The stuff we talk about is for, y'know, older kids." He shrugged. "It's not really age appropriate for you."

"Ok first of all I'm thirteen." She told him. "Second of all I have seen so many R rated movies that nothing can faze me anymore."

"Aren't you scared of the Handeemen?" Sam asked, and received a death glare for his trouble. It was pretty potent, for coming from such a stick of a girl.

"No." She gritted out, before tearing into her sandwich. "I'm not scared of them. I just don't like them." A pause. "I do like Scout though. She's cool." Scout looked please at the comment, mouth full of crunched up chips.

"That's not what I heard." Sam muttered, and was popped on the head by his brother. "Ow! What?"

Daniel opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the cafeteria doors bursting open. They made a loud bang as they hit the walls, making everyone jump and stare.

"Where is she?!" Yelled Nick Nack as he wheeled into the room. Any remaining conversation died as the people inside realized that, once again, a fight was beginning. In the furthest corners of the room money started to exchange hands, while new bets were made.

"Did you check the lab?" Someone called back, while Stacy slowly sank into her seat. If she thought she could do it without attracting attention, she'd make a run for the door. But Nick was right there, and she didn't want to go anywhere near him.

"What did she do this time?" John asked, and Nick rounded on him, glaring. He drew back a little, wishing he'd never asked as the artist came closer, voice getting louder with every word.

"She took my best paints!" He shrieked, and Stacy gave in to her urge to fully hide under the table, which went unnoticed by the Puppet. Scout joined her a moment later, though mostly for the fun of it. "I told her not to touch them, and she took them for her experiments and I need them back now!"

"You sound mad" Sam noted, and Nick rounded on him. But before the Puppet could tear him a new one, Daniel stood up, adjusting his jacket.

"Here, Nick, I'll help you go find Riley. Maybe she hasn't used the paints yet." He suggested, heading out the door with Nick. "And if she has, I'll help you find some replacements, and tell Lydia we'll need to order some new ones."

"For her sake, I hope not." The Puppet threatened as they left the room. Everyone waited a moment, and then the lunchroom conversations continued. Stacy climbed out from under the table and sat back down, ready to resume her lunch.

"Not scared, huh?" Sam asked, an eyebrow quirked. Stacy squirted her capri sun at him, and the others laughed as he complained about the sticky juice getting on his shirt. Stacy watched as he blotted at it with a napkin, pushing the rest of her food towards Scout.

After lunch it was back to reorganizing the closets with one of the others; taking what Bonzai had messed up and putting the props back into their proper places. It was tedious work, especially when Scout was doing her best to keep things chaotic. But, with some time and Stacy eventually just grabbing the Puppet, they managed to finish eventually.

From the closet Stacy went to sweeping, removing... confetti? from the main set, upon which filming had just finished. From the corner of her eye, she could see the Handeeman Puppets. Daisy had gone off somewhere, but Riley and Nick were having a very animated discussion. Not that Stacy could hear it, or even wanted to, but she was pretty sure it was about the stolen paints.

Instead she focused on sweeping the confetti, then moved on to collecting the bits of paper from the fake bushes. This usually involved smacking the foliage with the broom handle to shake it loose, then sweeping it into the long handled dustpan. Sometimes Scout would leap into the bushes to try and help shake loose the ones on the inner branches, which Stacy was thankful for.

Together they were able to get quite a bit of the confetti swept up, leaving the floor of the set spotless. That done she started gathering the discarded props, piling them into a wheelbarrow for someone else to put away.

As she was doing that, she hummed softly, some anime theme song or another. Scout had asked her about anime before, and Stacy had resolved to show her some whenever she could break her out of the studio. So far she couldn't, as Daisy expected to literally be handed Scout each time the girl left. But, eventually, Daisy would forget, hopefully before a weekend, and Stacy could make a break for it with Scout.

So she was stuck making plans that wouldn't be fulfilled, at least not for a while. But still. it made her happy to think of such things, and so she continued as she helped to reset everything, getting it ready for next week's episode.

Soon enough it was almost time to leave. Most of the others had already left, leaving just her and Danny waiting for Mary to finish up whatever and come get them. She spent the time straightening the props while Danny played with Scout. Stacy had no clue what they were playing, but they weren't being loud so she left them alone.

However as she worked, she missed the approach of a Puppet on a wheeled stand, though in her defense the wheels were made to be silent. He watched for a moment, hidden around the corner of a "building" so as not to scare the girl. He stayed quiet, watching as Stacy carefully put things into position, and thought 'Yes. She is perfect for this.' He then came out of his hiding place, clearing his throat. The girl turned around and stilled when she saw him, a half formed smile frozen on her face.

They stared at each other for a long moment, but the second the Puppet tried to speak he was physically assaulted by a flying blue blur.

"Nick!" Screeched Scout as she launched herself onto his face. He caught her as she slid off, and spotted how Stacy grabbed Danny, holding the boy back. Unfortunate, but it made sense. Obviously she wouldn't want her brother around them, however safe they might be. Scout babbled on without a care as the girl shoved her brother behind her.

Tension now broken, Nick allowed himself to indulge in a small smile, looking Stacy right in the eye. "Miss Stein, I have a job for you."

#hello puppets #happytimes at handeemen hq #htahhq #stacy stein #nick nack #scout #the oddballs #fanfiction

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gra-sonas · 5 years ago

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Roswell, New Mexico’s Michael Vlamis sat down for an exclusive interview with HypabIe, and we got into everyone’s favorite alien love triangle.

Michael Guerin has a lot on his plate in Roswell, New Mexico season 2. His brother died, his sister’s husband died, he’s trying to resurrect the aforementioned brother, he’s learning more about his mother, and he’s trying to pretend that his hand wasn’t miraculously healed. And you thought your 2020 was off to a rough start!

We’re not sure how the guy is even finding time for romance, but we’re so, so glad he is. While struggling through things with his long-time-love Alex Manes in season 1, he also found a connection with Maria DiLuca. In season 2, it looks like he’s chosen to give things a shot with New Mexico’s most beautiful bar owner.

Of course, my first question was about Malex. Are things really over? What’s to come for them? “In a romantic sense, yes, this is the end for now,” Vlamis confessed. “But we actually had more scenes together this season than in season 1 where we really get to work on our friendship, which I think is what we really need.”

That’s probably not what Malex fans wanted to hear, but there’s still hope. If you read to the end of the interview, Michael Vlamis reveals his favorite Malex scene from Roswell, New Mexico season 2, and it sounds like a really good one!

Also, Vlamis revealed his three favorite songs to get into character as Michael Guerin. They are the incredibly fitting “Buckskin Stallion Blues” by Amy Annelle, “Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys,” by Waylon Jennings, and “First Day of My Life,” by Bright Eyes! If you don’t remember, that’s the song that Michael and Alex shared their first kiss to. *swoon*

Hypable: Often, different romantic relationships bring out different sides of people’s personalities. What’s your favorite thing about Michael with Maria versus Michael with Alex?

Michael Vlamis: I think with Maria he feels safe. I think with Alex there are moments of him feeling safe when they’re intertwined and in the bed and a couple moments we saw last year, but really he’s never feeling safe. Yes, his hand’s heeled now but he’s still wearing a bandana to hide that. First of all, because if anyone in the town pays attention to that they’re going to be like, “how did his hand get heeled?” but also that bandana is a reminder of the pain that he’s gone through in his life, and that pain, unfortunately, is directly correlated with Alex.

You might see a little bit of a softer side when we see Guerin and Maria coming together, and that was really fun to play. Everything’s okay. This is fresh, this is good, this is kind of my new home right now where I can come back to.

Hypable: What can you tease about Guerin’s journey to find his mother in ‘Roswell, New Mexico’ season 2, and how both Maria and Alex will be involved in that?

MV: Yeah, so over the whole season I really spend time trying to break that story and figure out what happened, which is just helping me figure out who I am, what’s my self-worth, and just kind of piecing together why I am the way I am and trying to piece together a family. Because yes, I have Isobel and Max…well, I had Max, but I never really felt like I had a family. Over the season, we’re trying to uncover this mystery of where my mom really disappeared, especially Alex. Was she in Roswell, for a little bit of time before she disappeared? Did she ever make contact with anyone?

It was fun to go back to the 1940s, early 1950s and see what life was like in Roswell back then. With the costumes and the set decorations there was a lot of fun to be had on set with that. As I am unveiling the story we see that story unveiled in the flashbacks. That was really cool.

Hypable: Isobel and Max have both begun to explore the breadth and potential of their powers. Will your character be doing the same in ‘Roswell, New Mexico’ season 2?

MV: Not exactly. Michael is playing a little bit of the victim card. He’s just been punched on his whole life, and taking a beating. And now, he lost his brother. It’s like when you go through a break up, right? You don’t care about anything else, you just miss that one person. What he’s thinking about right now is escaping, so he’s not trying to get his powers any stronger because part of him probably wishes he was just a normal guy who didn’t even have these powers. Then everything would be so much easier and they wouldn’t have had to kill a bunch of girls and stage a car accident and deaths. That’s all stuff that he doesn’t want. He was a good kid who was off the college, and then all of a sudden this changed his whole life and he’s just been kind of dealing with that ever since.

Hypable: On top of missing Max is he feeling any kind of pressure to take on Max’s role as the traditional big brother?

MV: One hundred percent. Their whole lives Max was always the hero and I think in a way, Michael, looked up to him for many years. But then when Max made the decision to cover up the murder instead of letting ourselves be exposed, I don’t think Michael Guerin wanted that. He’s a selfless guy for the most part, and he means well. I think he wanted the truth to be out there. But yeah, he’s going to struggle with that a lot and just figuring out what his new role is now especially with Isobel.

For instance, he didn’t wanna be at the church [for the funeral]. The only reason he showed up at that funeral was for his sister, so he knows deep down he has to step up and be this kind of hero savior thing, which he freaking hates. He doesn’t want that responsibility, but he knows that it’s his time to step up and play that role.

Hypable: Could college still be on the horizon for Michael Guerin?

MV: I think that’s one of those things that’s gone now, but I do think that he would take his talents and put them towards something bigger. If he’s ever able to fully escape living in hiding and the kind of prison that they’ve built around their lives. I think as time progresses, he’s going to continue exercising his talents and his mind and stepping up and not letting that all go to the wayside. But right now, he’s not thinking about that at all.

Hypable: Is he still eager to get back to his home planet, or did meeting his mom change that drive?

MV: I think it definitely changed the drive a little bit, but I also think with her being gone, and him knowing that she existed, it gives him hope. Maybe there are other family members or there’s another community of aliens still living somewhere and thriving. So yeah, I think it was definitely a deterrent. And that’s why you see him in these first couple of episodes. He seems like a guy who’s given up with the way he’s treating people, especially Maria. And also just how dirty he is. I mean, they made me so filthy this season…in like a CW hot way though.

I’m a dirty, dirty man who’s just a little hopeless right now. But yeah, as time goes on, he reels it in and tries to figure out why he’s here. Why is anyone here? Is he supposed to go home? I don’t know, I think that is all going to depend on how this season plays out, and also where his love interest is. I can see him getting his heart broken and just leaving the planet for sure, but I don’t think he really wants that if he could have that true love that he’s longing for.

Hypable: Are there any character dynamics that you got to explore more of in ‘Roswell, New Mexico’ season 2 that you were excited about?

MV: Oh yeah, it was fun doing more scenes with Michael Trevino (Kyle Valenti) this year. Obviously we’re working together to save Max. We only got a few scenes last year towards the prison shots at the end of the season where we were really together. Aside from that, it was just like me giving him a dirty look and pushing him off Alex in the flashback episode. It’s been really fun to work with Trevino just because he’s another guy who, like Nathan Parsons and Heather Hemmens, they’re pros. They’ve done this before. They’ve done eight seasons of a show.

Trevino was in my exact position where a show just comes about and changes your life. It’s really cool seeing how he navigate a set. Also, we just kind of mess with each other all the time. I mess around with everyone, but when it comes to Trevino, he’s such a confident man’s man. He wears really cool clothes, works out all the time, has a six pack no matter what he eats, so we just shit on each other. We shit on each other all the time. That dynamic really comes through when we’re working together as well.

[...]

Hypable: What are you doing to stay sane in this crazy time of self-isolation, and what do you think Michael Guerin would be doing?

MV: You know what, I bet I’m doing similar things to him. We have all these cinder blocks on a bonfire we built in our backyard and we’ve been taking those and making a home work out set up. So I’m doing prison workouts right now in my backyard, and I feel like that’s very Guerin-esque. Also, during this quarantine I’m eating healthy, I’m on a cooking routine with my roommates and that means that I’m feeling better about myself, so like Guerin, I’m just taking my shirt off all the time.

Hypable: Finally, do you have a favorite moment from Malex and MiLuca in ‘Roswell, New Mexico?’

MV: eah, I do. I’m going to focus specifically on season two. I was really, really proud of that last scene where me and Maria kissed at the end of episode two. That was a really cool scene to do. And actually, what was so interesting about that is in the episode I said “I’m sorry” to her, but it wasn’t written. Carina MacKenzie, our showrunner, came out and was like, “listen guys, this is working great. The chemistry, the passion, the love, the heartache, the hope, everything is there. But Guerin was just all over some girl in the bar in front of Maria. This is bullshit, he needs to apologize.” And so she was like, “Vlam, do you want to try working in an ‘I’m sorry,’ right around this moment?” And I did that, and I think it kind of changed the whole scene. That one little line. It made you remember that this guy is a good guy, he’s just caught up in something that he’s having a hard time wrestling with right now.

With Alex, there’s a moment at the end of the season that I actually asked the director for another take. I have so much pride as an actor, I’m just so hard on myself, I never do stuff like that. But in this one moment, I knew how much the scene meant and I asked for another take and something really special happened internally with how I was feeling. In that moment, locked in with Alex. I’m not saying if it was romantic or whatnot, but there’s a scene at the end of the season that was probably my favorite and it’ll be a lot of fun to watch too.

If you’re looking to see more of Michael Vlamis outside of his regularly scheduled Monday night appearances in Roswell, New Mexico, you can check out his recently released three-part series on michaelvlamis.com! Making it is a hilarious (and extremely well shot) series about a baby-faced Michael Vlamis and his friends trying to “make it” in Hollywood.

He decided to release the series in response to the increased demand for entertainment due to the COVID-19 quarantines. “It’s a digital series making fun of this industry, and everything that we go through.” The first episode tackles an audition process that I’m guessing is shockingly similar to his experience with Roswell, New Mexico, complete with cowboy hat and “Magic Mike abs,” but presented in a way that will make you laugh…and maybe also make you slightly nauseous. Check it out!

~ HypabIe

#malex #michael guerin #alex manes #michael vlamis #rnm spoilers #rnm cast interviews #roswell new mexico #will we ever get a tyler interview about alex?#really (*really*) would like to have one with him for a change

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dynamesvirtue · 4 years ago

Note

Magnus for the character thing 👀

How I feel about this character: He is BRILLIANT, he is AMAZING. What an asshole bitch... but I still love him LOL

All the people I ship romantically with this character: MagnusxBailee 👀 MagnusxAbigail MagnusxNathan

My non-romantic OTP for this character: I’m assuming a BROTP so MagnusxMurderface hands down.

My unpopular opinion about this character: That I love him??? Also he deserves to be alive and well and healthy

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Fucking LIVE

my OTP: MagnusxBailee sorry I don’t make the rules here.

my cross over ship: I...idk why but Starlord/ Peter QuillxMagnus came to mind??

a headcanon fact: Lol I don’t have one:

He was raised by his mom (who’s a single mom because his parents got divorced a little after he was born and the dad was never in his life after that.) And she was alcoholic who ignored her son because he reminded her of his father, which is why he’s seeks attention and approval.

From Lebanon, part Arabic/Italian in him.

And a reason why he’s the third worlds fastest guitarist is that, whenever he plays something that doesn’t go right or he doesn’t like, he has a huge fit and doesn’t play again until he calms down, and we know it takes a long time for him to calm down.

Magnus came to the United States when he was 13-14. He couldn’t stand his mom’s neglectfulness and how much everything he did reminded him of his fucked up father. From there, he surprising worked hard in school. (Mainly a B average.) He stayed in New York at the time, where he had a distant relative lend him a room.

For College, he went to Berklee in Boston. (Yes College. Magnus is a smart man so I assume he went to College, but never fully got a degree.)

After having a bad day and being kicked out of multiple bars for his anger problems, Magnus just found a guitar in the dump and started repairing it, which lead to him playing it and being self taught. And that’s when he realized it eased his stress and anger. Until he got frustrated and gave up. But he always returned to it cause he liked the way it made him feel.

His Birthday is October 27th.

When Skiwsgaar first joined the band, Magnus helped him with his english because he understood the language barrier, from when he first entered the states.

Before being recruited by Dethklok, Magnus was pretty well known in the underground music. He would play for various groups, but never stuck with any of them because he felt they were mediocre compared to him. .

When Magnus agreed to be part of dethklok, The band (minus Pickles) were ecstatic to have him.

Magnus was aware of Pickles time in Snakes N Barrels, but was weary of his drumming skills. Seeing that he was a 80’s Glam rock singer prior to Dethklok.

Murderface was his biggest fan before Magnus joined Dethklok. He would sneak off from his grandparents house to go to the shows he was playing at. Magnus is partially the reason why Murderface started to play the bass, because he hoped that one day he’ll play with Magnus.

Nathan and Magnus would butt heads often usually due to creative input. But nonetheless they both had a neutral respect for each other.

Magnus and Charles didn’t interact much, but Magnus would always try to be calm around him. He was the one guy that Magnus didn’t want to piss off.

Magnus isn’t much of a sweet tooth. In Lebanon, most of the treats were dark chocolate or tart. So he never really liked the sweets Americans made.

One of Magnus’ fears is Athazagoraphobia, fear of being forgotten, ignored, or abandon.

Post-Dethklok? I was thinking after he left, he tried to join/form another band, even produced some songs for other bands as a songwriter. but again the anger issue was the problem and got him nowhere. No one would tolerate him as long as Dethklok did. So he went on to do his own music lessons, teaching kids but would get angry at them for not playing HIS way. Obviously that didn’t go well so he went into minimum wage jobs, like Working at the Grocery store, cashiers/servers at restaurants (not fast food places, he’ll never stoop that low according to him). After tired from his day to day job, he eventually found a flyer for Rock-a-rooni fantasy camp. Yes I’m sure he did get recognized by his involvement in The Hammer, but also because of when he was a songwriter for other bands.

#metalocalypse #magnus hammersmith #dethklok #rose answers

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lgcjesse · 4 years ago

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note: an accurate representation of jc whenever he is around people. ^

₊ ˚ 𝙅𝘾 𝘽𝘼𝙀. ━ HELLO FRIENDS, this is nic with a third muse. you may also know me as lgcallie & lgcsubin. i won’t bore you with a long intro but please like or add my krp twt @ eternitvs if you’re interested in plotting! there’s a character intro under the cut if you’d like to know more about jc. ^^

₊ ˚ LIFE BEFORE LEGACY

born as jesse bae to a pilot and a consultant in new york city. his korean name is jehyun, but he never goes by it, preferring instead to be called jesse ( since he was born in new york / english is his first language / he’s americanized ) or jc. things were a little easier for the family until his brother nathan came along, at which point it was decided that since both the parents couldn’t stay home much, the boys would attend a boarding school to receive the proper care they deserved

jc was an odd boy even as a child. more of a loner who always kept to himself, so the lack of attention didn’t really bother him much. nathan though, was a different story - he needed attention to thrive. jc thrived in silence and being alone, and wished that others would leave him alone also

throughout their schooling years, nathan would get into trouble constantly but it was never more than slipping grades and quote unquote, “ acting out”. jc kept an eye on him for the most part to be sure that he didn’t get into too much trouble, though nathan is ... belligerent and likes attention, which he mostly gets from jc ( though jc is loathe to admit it ) and / or being a little shit

as he grew older, jc started to realize how fake and manipulative people were, whether that would be his parents or his classmates or people who liked to label themselves his “ friend”. their affections may have come easily, but he never really valued it because he didn’t see the truth in it

started learning guitar to cope with stress at a young age. he’s always liked music, but something about fucking destroying his fingers while learning something that he saw beneficial was a welcome change

as much as jc ENJOYS being alone and thinks that affection is honestly an eyesore, it isn’t impossible for him to make friends. in fact, he had one ( 1 ) real friend while he was in school but ... things happened

tw death, bullying, hazing / witnessed the death of his said only friend at the hands of bullies who were hazing him. things got out of hand with their hazing and although jc was trying to get him to quit buying into their “ friendship” which is not what it was, said friend was insistent. led to an accidental death and it honestly traumatized him and still does to this day

around the time of this occurrence, nathan went off the walls with one of his pranks and almost got expelled from school. it was decided that he’d go to korea to study instead and to live with family members there. jc, looking for a means to an escape, decided to go with him ( and he’ll never admit he was duty bound to keep an eye on his younger brother )

₊ ˚ TRAINEE LIFE

a talent scout approached him after watching jc play guitar at a talent show that he somehow inexplicably got signed up for. he had no idea what he was going to do at an idol company with a fucking guitar but you know ....

decided to give it a try and got signed after his first audition in january 2017

quickly grew disillusioned with the potential for idol life, even if his brother was extremely jealous of his situation to the point that he auditioned for legacy himself in july 2017 and got in as well - jc just couldn’t remedy the fact that things seemed even more fake and manipulative in an entertainment world

definitely grew a distaste for the fact that some people aren’t really selected in the entertainment world because they’re talented but rather because they look good. it just rubs him the wrong way, even if people in legacy get into the company based on audition only and not fully visuals

doesn’t help that he hates dancing and was often criticized for refusing to further his skills in that regard ... but he’d rather not do something he’s not good at in lieu of something that he is - which is singing and playing guitar

probably thought about dropping out of legacy more than once to go join a band or something .. but then remembered that he’d actually have to get along with the members of said band .... which means going out and looking for friends .... no thanks

₊ ˚ FUTURE DREAMS & ASPIRATIONS

when the subsidiary companies were announced, it was like a breath of fresh air for jc who quite frankly, finds the idol life a little lacklustre and uhh .. pathetic ..

so upon hearing about the band path, that became his new drive and focus. the fact that being on the band path almost has a prerequisite for actual talent rather than a high focus on stunning good looks really spoke to him

has made it abundantly clear that he’s not interested in being an idol and continues to focus his studies and training on music that he enjoys as well as music that he enjoys performing

he’s not too hyper focused on playing a certain genre ( ie, heavy metal, soft rock, etc ) but he does have his preferences that lean towards a heavier rock sound

₊ ˚ HEADCANONS

has an antibrow & nose piercing, as well as the typical lobe piercings. very likely has several tattoos but i as a mun have not decided what to give him yet ;;;

probably doesn’t smile. if he smiles at you, you’re super lucky ... or should be scared i guess .. depends on the situation

though he has qualms with the idol industry and the ability for some to get by in it based on good looks and not much else, he knows there are some idols that are extremely talented. it’s just that he doesn’t think there’s many of them lol ( plot ideas? )

although he seems rather abrasive, he has absolutely no energy to fight with anyone and will walk away with no remorse in silence while you’re having a bitch fit

probably really popular because he’s got that quote unquote, bad e -boy feel or something. he absolutely hates this, hates being popular, hates having people look at him, and especially hates the people who like to lie about the fact that they’ve slept with him just for clout ( plot idea! )

has slept around here and there, but it’s unlikely that he’ll ever sleep with the same person twice ( affection is abhorrent ) ( plot idea! )

#⟨ ⋆ DARK HORSE ₊ ˚ ━ updates . ⟩#i'll reply to dms later!

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the100epic · 5 years ago

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Mackson meta

I love the relationship between Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller on The 100 and am in the mood to do a bit of meta, just to answer the questions ‘Who are they and what makes them work as a couple?’ Given their limited screen time, it was fun to mine what I could from limited material. First, a disclaimer - I’m only on episode 5 x 8.

Looking at Jackson first, and starting with a few obvious things. He’s an adult when we first meet him, and he already has a good sense of purpose. He’s a born healer. He’s quiet. He is very serious, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders –given his limited time in front of the camera, we don’t know how often (or if) he lets his guard down and laughs. He probably puts the needs of others before his own – think of 5 x 2 when Abby tells him she’s happy for him (because he has Miller), and he immediately turns it around to ask how she is and express concern for her. He lost his mother, possibly when he was young, and it’s obvious that Abby has been his mother-figure for a long time. (Check the tears in his eyes in 1 x 1 when Kane is trying to float Abby). He decides to take the chip in Season 3, probably feeling desperate for a route towards ending the suffering of other people, something he always tries to do but can never succeed at.

We don’t know if he’s ever been in another relationship before Miller. Maybe he has; he’s got to be at least 23 years old before the time jump and there had to have been some interested parties on the Ark. Or maybe he hasn’t; he’s clearly been working constantly ever since he’s been able to, so maybe he would have felt guilty for pursuing romance. However, I lean towards thinking that he has been in a relationship before. He is the one who makes the first move on Miller in Season 4, suggesting that he has some experience and confidence in this arena.

We have more material on Miller (though still not enough). He is younger when the show starts, and I feel his personality was not yet fully developed or defined back then. Partially because of limited screen time, and partially because he is under 18 when the show starts and he just has some natural growing up to do. What we do see is that he has a sense of humor (such as during the ghost stories conversation with Bryan and Harper), and he appears loyal to Bellamy. Part of that loyalty is undoubtedly due to the fact that he is trying to do what all of The 100 is trying to do - whatever it takes to survive. Miller does a good job of getting in with Bellamy’s group and being seen as a good foot soldier/ good lieutenant to Bellamy. This theme replays itself throughout the series; he is always a good solider, and in Season 5 it is the other Blake for whom he is a good lieutenant.

We know three things about Miller’s time on the Ark.

1. He has a father who loves him

2. He has a boyfriend named Bryan

3. He was arrested for stealing

My head-canon is that his theft had to do with stealing a gift or something for Bryan, but there’s nothing in canon to back that up. We do know from season 2 that Miller is ashamed of what he had done, ashamed for having let his father down. We don’t know how long he was incarcerated before being sent down to earth, but you can be sure that he’s had plenty of time to think about the ramifications of his actions.

We can also infer that he was training to be in the guard, like his father, back on the Ark. Miller’s too good of a solider by the time he gets to the ground for him to not have had some training.

Before we can get to Mackson as a couple, I need to take a glimpse at “Briller” – Miller and his ex Bryan. They’re reunited in Season 3, and it must have been hard for them; at one point they surely must’ve thought they’d never see each other again. On top of that, there are serious, major life experiences that they do not share (Season one’s war with the Grounders, Miller’s experiences as a captive in Mount Weather just for starters). As far as we can tell, the two young men do try to make it work, which indicates to me that Miller likes being in a relationship, likes having someone to love. When Bryan is up on the Ark, Miller never cheats on him despite knowing that he might never see him again. Unlike with Finn, perhaps the opportunity never presented itself but this still suggests that one of Miller’s qualities is loyalty.

My favorite conversation of Briller’s occurs at the end of Season 3 when they spend a minute dreaming of their future, thinking of how they’d love to have a farm and chickens. It gives a great glimpse into Miller’s head. He probably is a solider because he has to be, but he dreams of peace. During those years in the bunker, his dream of living on a farm must’ve felt even more remote than ever, though at least he had a man he loves to dream alongside.

We never get the full story on why it didn’t work out with Bryan. Was it due mainly to their disagreement on how to handle the Azgeda slaves or was that just one factor among others? (That debate – freeing the slaves versus getting the equipment they need to survive - does deserve some more analysis which I won’t get into here). We can only speculate as to whether that was the main reason for the breakup, or if other reasons presented themselves. Given what we do see with Mackson though, I wonder if Bryan and Miller were just too similar.

Because I see some good yin and yang with Mackson. Miller’s words in 5 x 2 to Jackson give us a great clue: “You’re a healer, not a fighter. That’s why I love you.” So we can add up the ways Jackson and Miller’s differences complement each other:

1. The fighter and the healer

2. Miller’s sense of humor contrasted with Jackson’s seriousness (Miller gets a rare smile out of Jackson in 4 X 9 during their scene in the rover)

3. Miller’s impulsiveness contrasted with Jackson’s clinical detachment

4. Possibly their age gap as well, with Jackson’s maturity being a plus for Miller. Remember that Miller’s father dies at the end of Season 4, right at the time that Mackson is taking off. I doubt Miller views Jackson as a father-figure in any way, but I do think Jackson’s maturity and ability to deal with other people’s pain provided a lot of balm for Miller. This experience had to have helped bond them.

But for a relationship to work, the partners can’t be too different. There have to be similarities too. Here are some Mackson ones:

1. They grew up with love. Miller’s dad and Jackson’s mom (whom we know less about, but we can infer a lot given the impact she made on his life) showed them love.

2. This trait is usually viewed as a negative, but the truth is that both Miller and Jackson are followers, not leaders. Miller follows whoever is their military leader (Bellamy, Octavia, etc) and Jackson follows Abby. Being a follower carries stigma, but the flip side of that coin is that both are very loyal. And maybe it means they are smart survivors, knowing that if you want to stay alive, it can’t hurt to hitch your wagon to an alpha.

3. Both are driven. Miller knows he made a mistake on the Ark, and he worked his butt off to survive on the ground and prove himself a valuable solider. And there’s no need to reiterate how driven and self-motivated Jackson must be in order to devote his life to healing.

4. Every single character on The 100 has made morally questionable choices, and I need to point out that Mackson are no different. Even Jackson was willing to experiment on “Baylis” in Season 4, and was about to do so to Emori. You can see the agony in his eyes, but we do not get any lines of dialog to indicate that he spoke out or offered himself in their places (which Abby would never have accepted). They both have to live with their demons and their regrets like every other character on the show.

Here’s something I wish I knew more about: When Mackson first gets together, they were facing – as Miller quips – “fiery death in five days”. Their relationship could’ve easily been a fling and nothing more – just one last sexual encounter before the world ends, perhaps? I wonder when it became more, or whether it was always intended to be more than a fling. The next time we see them together, the five days have passed, Praimfaya is upon us, and they are clearly a couple (as we see in 4 x 12 – there are SO many looks and touches, including an unexplained, secret hand gesture, the type of move done by intimate couples). Did they have in-depth conversations to discuss what might happen if they both somehow survived Praimfaya? I can definitely see Jackson being the type who would want to think about and discuss this. Or did they realize that there was a good chance that one or both of them wouldn’t make it, and thus tacitly decide that the topic was just too painful to discuss? Maybe they just took the approach of living for the moment and hoping for the best? (And next, of course, would come the moment that they woke up from the gas and had to face the fact that Miller’s dad wasn’t chosen, and they would have to process that).

Also I wish I knew more about what prompted Jackson to make the first move. I suspect some fans view him as passive, given his interactions with Abby, his quiet demeanor. So I will always love the fact that he made the first move. Was it motivated solely by Praimfaya? Did Abby at some point tell Jackson that Miller was single now and that he should approach Miller? Was it something that Jackson had quietly wanted to do for a while? (Maybe he noticed Miller even back when Bryan was still a thing). Had Miller been giving him a few signals to let him know that he was open to something? Was Jackson lonely and just wanting to reach a deeper connection (whether it be sex or a relationship) with another human being, especially given what they were facing in Season 4? Or some combination of the above?

No way of knowing this glimpse of their past, but I look forward to their future.

#the 100 #mackson #eric jackson #nathan miller #the 100 meta

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misslongcep · 5 years ago

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"Happy Birthday, Daddy" - Harry Flynn X Reader

So, this is my first ever fanfic request, by none other than @missdictatorme!!

I hope you like it 💕 if you like this and want something similar, please feel free to drop me an ask 😘

Raying: Teen and up

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex.

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Harry Flynn woke up blinking, trying to clear the sleep that was blurring his vision. He vaguely recognised the sound of the shower, and realised he was missing the warmth from your body, that he had grown used to over the past few years. As he sat up in bed, he felt a throbbing in his head that reminded him of the large amount of alcohol he’d consumed the previous night.

“Happy Birthday to me.” Harry grumbled, pushing back the covers and stretching as he rose from the bed.

Harry heard the water being turned off in the bathroom, and smirked to himself. Morning sex was his favourite type of sex, but “Happy Birthday” morning sex was just the best. He plonked himself at the bottom of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers as he sat proudly waiting for you to appear, so he could receive his first gift of the day.

The door to the bathroom flew open, and you came whirling out of the bathroom fully dressed, your wet hair dripping onto your baggy shirt which smothered your delicate frame. You flew around the room like a tornado, gathering your jacket, shoes and handbag, before stopping briefly to plant a kiss on Harry’s head.

“Where’s the fire, love?” Harry teased.

“Sorry honey, I’m running late. I’ll see you later!” you called over your shoulder as you ran through the apartment.

“Later?” Harry asked as he followed you into to the kitchen, “I thought we could do breakfast this morning, seeing as you didn’t feel up to drinks last night.”

“Sorry Harry, I’m really late as it is. And I promised I’d meet Elena for lunch, so I don’t want to fill up before I see her. I’ll see you for dinner later!” You called over your shoulder, barely noticing the hurt and confusion on Harry’s face as he watched you rush out of the door.

Harry had never considered himself a needy person, and when you first got together, your relationship was only supposed to be a casual mess about between friends. However, Harry quickly realised that you were the one for him, with your quick humour and daring personality, and it wasn’t long before you moved in together. You didn’t mind his flirty attitude, and you would often compete with each other to see who was more successful with the opposite sex. Neither of you were particularly bothered about birthdays, but it had become a tradition of yours to start the day with breakfast in bed, followed by a good round of happy birthday sex, and then whatever celebrations followed.

For Harry’s birthday this year, you were supposed to join him and your group of friends for birthday drinks the night before, but you’d complained of feeling unwell, and didn’t want to be out drinking. So Harry had gone alone, thinking you would have your own private celebrations today. He was crushed when he realised this wasn’t the case. He found himself sitting around the apartment, checking his phone every five minutes to see if you had called or text him. You hadn’t.

Did she forget it was my birthday or something? Harry thought to himself. Normally I’m the one who forgets, this isn’t like her at all. Harry sulked for a few hours, and when he realised it was unlikely that you would be coming back any time soon, he decided to go out for a drink, even if it meant drinking alone on his birthday. He text a few friends to see if anybody was free, but only Nate replied to say yes.

Harry met Nate down at their local bar, and it didn’t take long for Nate to figure out something was wrong.

“What’s up with you, today? Have you suddenly realised you’re turning into an old man?” he teased.

“Haha, very funny.” Harry replied sarcastically. “No, it’s Y/N. I think there’s something wrong. She ran out of the apartment without even stopping to wish me happy birthday this morning. I didn’t even get a birthday blowie!”

“Gross.” Nate shuddered and laughed, “Too much information, dude.”

“I’m serious, man. Normally she’ll do me breakfast in bed, happy birthday sex and then presents... This year I don’t think she’s even got me a card!” Harry complained, lifting his beer to his lips. “What if she’s bored of me? What if there’s someone else?”

“Harry, come on. This is Y/N we’re talking about here. You guys are meant to be together, no way would she even think of looking at another guy.” Nate reassured his friend. “Maybe she really is busy today. I bet she’ll have something extra special planned for you for later.”

“Maybe,” Harry wondered quietly. “But I just think it’s weird that Y/N was meeting Elena today, when she knows it’s my birthday. We never make plans on each other’s birthday, I know she’d go mad if it was the other way round.”

At this, Nate’s cheeks flushed red, and he took a swift drink of beer, avoiding any eye contact with Harry. Harry didn’t even notice, too swept up in his own thoughts, worrying about what was so important that you had forgotten his birthday. After a moment’s silence, Nate cleared his throat.

“Listen, Harry. I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. Maybe Y/N has just forgotten. But that doesn’t mean she loves you any less, and I know if she has forgotten, she will go above and beyond to make it up to you. Trust me, you’ll soon realise you’ve blown this way out of proportion.”

“I hope so,” Harry replied sourly. “I just hope that she realises she’s got a lot of making up to do for making me feel so crappy.” Nathan just rolled his eyes and shook his head. The two stayed for a couple more drinks, and it was early evening when Harry finally stumbled up the stairs to the apartment.

As he reached the door, he could smell something cooking, and his mouth instantly started to water. He was still pissed at you for forgetting his birthday, but it smelled like you were trying to make up for it, which was at least a start. Don’t think you’re getting off that easy though, love, Harry thought to himself. Harry fumbled with his keys, and once he had finally managed to get into the apartment, he was shocked to see what you had done to the place.

Candles had been lit all around the apartment, and a path of rose petals led from the door to the bedroom, with a side path diverting to the lounge. A soft guitar melody played through the speakers from the lounge, and Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion; did you really think that cheesy romance would cause him to forgive you? Still, the amazing smell that wafted from the kitchen distracted Harry momentarily, and he found himself moving slowly towards the sound of sizzling meat, mixed with soft humming as you busied yourself with dinner. Harry leaned on the doorway, watching as you danced lightly around the cupboards, gathering ingredients and dishes, blissfully unaware of your audience.

Harry cleared his throat, causing the spoon you’d been using to fall onto the floor with a clatter, as you jumped and turned to face him in surprise. “Jesus, Harry, you scared me!” you laughed, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, planting soft kisses on his cheek. “Had a good day?”

“I guess,” Harry replied bitterly. “Met Nate for a few drinks, seeing as he was the only one who could be bothered to see me today.”

“I’m sorry I had to leave so early this morning,” you apologised, sensing the bitterness in Harry’s voice. “I felt awful that we couldn’t do your birthday breakfast, especially as I couldn’t come for drinks last night.”

“Still didn’t stop you from leaving me without even saying happy birthday this morning. You didn’t even tell me where you were going!”

“Harry, baby, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been terrible today, please let me make it up to you! Look, I’m even cooking your favourite meal for dinner!” you showed him the risotto that was bubbling away merrily on the stove, and curled yourself into him, a look of plea in your eyes. “What do you say? Am I forgiven?”

Harry refused to look at you for a while, but eventually gave in with a sigh, pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s a start, I suppose.” He muttered. “But you’ve got a lot of making up to do before I really decide whether to forgive you or not.” You beamed up at him and kissed him passionately on the lips. You dragged him over to the candlelit table and sat him down, before grabbing a beer from the fridge and placing it before him. “This is more like it,” Harry smirked, “Although I don’t see why you’ve gone to so much trouble with the decorations, it’s not like we’re expecting the Queen of England to pop round for a cuppa.”

You smiled, stroking Harry’s cheek delicately. “I just want your birthday to be a special one, that’s all. Because I love you.” Harry smiled and pulled you in for a kiss. There was no way he could stay mad at you, he knew that.

Once dinner was finished, you both leaned back in your chairs, full and satisfied. Harry sighed happily. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Y/N. That was delicious.” You grinned at him, as you rose to clear the table. Harry took a few swigs of beer, and then helped to clear the last of the dinner things. “Now, not to sound ungrateful, love, but the way I see it, there’s still some making up to do, seeing as you forgot my birthday.” You opened your mouth to argue, but Harry raised his hand to silence you, smirking as he did so. “I’m not saying that dinner wasn’t good, but don’t think it’s gone unnoticed that I’ve not yet received a present. I hope it’s something impressive. So should I close my eyes, or do we need to head to the bedroom, so I can unwrap you myself?”

You giggled, and guided Harry back to his seat at the table. “Oh I’ve got a surprise for you alright, but you don’t need to go to the bedroom just yet.” You purred in his ear, running your fingers along his collar. “You just wait here, I’ll be right back.” You slunk away, leaving Harry twitching in anticipation. When you returned, you made him close his eyes, and placed a card and a small box furnished with ribbon on the table in front of him. “Happy birthday, Harry.” Your voice was thick with emotion, as Harry opened one eye to look at you.

Disappointment flashed briefly across his face, when he realised you weren’t naked, but was soon replaced with curiosity when he noticed the box and envelope before him. He went to pick up the box first, but you stopped him, indicating that the card should be the first thing opened. Harry threw you a quizzical look, before obliging, and chuckled when he read the front of the card. “Happy Birthday to the world’s best Daddy.” He chuckled. “That’s cute love, but don’t you think that’s taking the daddy kink just a little too far?”

“Just open the box, moron.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. Harry undid the box, and you could see the look of confusion grow on his face. Inside was a pair of boots; tiny Timberland ones, that perfectly matched Harry’s own, battered pair. You bit your lip in anticipation, waiting for the penny to drop, but Harry remained clueless.

“Erm, thanks sweetheart. I can hang them as a decoration in my car.” Disappointment was clear in Harry’s voice; this clearly wasn’t what he’d been expecting. You sighed and came and sat beside him, grasping his hands firmly within your own.

“Harry, sweetheart. They’re not meant to be used as a decoration in your car. We will have to wait a while before we can use them. Like about 9 months?” you hinted, desperately wishing Harry to understand. Harry remained quiet, processing your words slowly. At last he seemed to begin to understand, his eyes flitting to your belly, then back to the tiny shoes on the table.

“When you said you weren’t feeling like drinking last night...” Harry’s question trailed off as you nodded, tears pooling in your eyes.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to have a drink for a while.” You whispered. Harry picked up the card again, and as he did, a blurry looking picture fell into his lap. Harry’s hands were shaking as he inspected the image.

“Is this what I think it is?” his voice was hoarse, almost afraid to say the words out loud. “Is this... Mine?”

“Well who’s else is it going to be, idiot?” you snapped, insulted by his question. Harry laughed and pulled you towards him, tenderly kissing the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “Harry, we’re going to have a baby. You and me.”

“I’m going to be a dad? Is this real?”

“It’s real,” you sniffled. “I’ve had it confirmed, I’m 6 weeks pregnant. This is why I had to leave so early this morning, Elena was taking me to the scan, and then we had to figure out the best way to tell you. I thought it would be a nice surprise for your birthday.”

Harry was silent. He kept looking at the baby scan, and then to you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. After a moment, Harry carefully placed his hands on your belly, and a soft sob escaped him. “Hey baby Flynn. I’m your daddy. I can’t wait to meet you properly.” He began kissing your belly gently, as you tenderly stroked his hair. “I can’t believe you’re going to have a baby. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!”

“I’m sorry, honey. I just wanted to make sure everything was going to be okay. And I wanted the scan picture to give to you as part of your present.”

Harry stood, pulling you with him, and wrapped himself around you in a loving, protective hug. “This is the best present I could have asked for, love. I couldn’t be happier.” He grasped you gently by the neck, and kissed you with so much passion that your legs started to give way, and Harry had to snake his arm under your back to stop you from falling. “Steady love,” he chuckled, kissing your neck softly. “we don’t want anything to happen to Harry Jr now, do we?”

You slapped his chest playfully. “We don’t know that it is going to be a Harry. For all you know, we could be having a Harriet. What do you think of that?”

“As long as they’re healthy, I don’t care what we have.” Harry smiled, picking you up and wrapping your legs around him. You laughed, clinging on for dear life as Harry spun around in excitement.

“Harry be careful!” you squealed, tightening the grip of your legs around his waist. Harry grinned, pulling you both onto the sofa so that you were straddling him, and ran his hands down your back and across your rear.

“Say,” Harry smirked, his hands squeezing your backside gently, “what are the rules about having sex when you’re pregnant?”

You smiled, and pushed yourself into his groin, fuelling the fires of your love. “As far as I know, it’s business as usual.”

“Excellent!” Harry cheered, lifting both of you off the sofa and carrying you to the bedroom. “Because it’s still my birthday, and now we’ve got even more to celebrate!”

#uncharted #uncharted fic #harry flynn #fanfic author #i suck at hashtags #request #Harry Flynn X reader #fluff

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thisislizheather · 5 years ago

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January Jewels 2020

I’ve purposely put off writing this monthly wrap-up because, well, christ. January was a terrible month. I don’t need to go into the details of why, but the consensus from everyone that I’ve talked to fully agrees with me on this. What the hell happened? Starting a new decade is supposed to be great. In any case, I’ll always have high hopes for the future. And I’m just thankful to begin a new month. Here’s what went down in the pit that was January 2020.

First things first, I recapped how my 2019 resolutions turned out. Why don’t more people do this? Where’s the accountability in reviewing your past resolutions? They’re not fucking birthday wishes, they’re intentions! More people need to follow through with this, even if the results aren’t what you hoped for.

I made my 2020 resolutions.

I fell absolutely in love with this sketch.

I did two podcasts with Nathan - one where we talked about the pope incident and one where I absolutely scream at him about Hillary.

I read Jenny Slate’s new book as well as a tiny little book about how to live a good life.

I ended up buying another J. Crew swimsuit (the same one I bought a few months ago, but this time in red) and I have no regrets.

In love with Trader Joe’s (dairy free) coconut whipped cream, I can’t stop using it in hot chocolate.

I rewatched (or watched for the first time, I truly can’t remember) The Staircase and it’s so good. I’m pretty sure Marla got me MP3 copies of this years ago and I did watch it, but I completely forgot about it in detail. Such a good watch. If you’ve already seen it, do you know about the owl theory? It’s a wild one, but, like, I think an owl did it now?

I’ve been using a small bottle of OUAI’s Wave Spray and if I can figure out how to not overspray it, it’s a great product. Once you use it though, your hair only looks good that day. After you sleep on it, your hair looks like shit. (Is that true of all hair products? I have absolutely no idea.)

Bought this Banana Republic top for $13 on sale and I love it because it does not feel like it cost so little.

I don’t know if it’s a Canadian brand but I have found a wicked alternative to Dollarama: Buck or Two. I went to one in Brampton and they’ve got everything.

I watched most of the SNL with Jennifer Lopez and wow did it suck. 99% of the sketches were basically “She’s pretty. That’s the joke.” Fucking hated it. They do this a lot of the time with certain actresses and I can’t ever tell if it’s because the actress loves doing these sketches or they’re afraid she can’t be funny. Whatever the reason is, blow my brains out, please.

I went to the Ear Inn in the city and it was lovely! Super old place. Service was great. Burger was great.

I went to Glossier with the intention of buying the cheek stain and then decided against it. It’s not a good product. I literally pinched my cheeks and got a better rosiness.

I came across probably my favourite winter children’s book of all time, The Snowman by Raymond Briggs. Look at one page of this magic.

I was so happy to hear about this matter finally being settled in New York.

I went to The Dutch again for Restaurant Week for their steak tartare and it’s just heaven on a plate.

I rewatched the great What Lies Beneath and man, it’s still just such a great movie.

As you may have heard, Papyrus is going out of business, so I’ve popped in twice to see what the closing deals are and they aren’t worth it yet (only 30% off! C’mon! I won’t get out of bed for at least 60%), so I’ll keep stopping in every so often until they’ve become desperate.

Love this part of a recent SNL (below). (If you can’t see it in Canada, search for “white male rage SNL.”

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I finally went to Boulud Sud for their pasta happy hour and man was it not worth it. The place has a terrible setup if you’re sitting at the bar, the food was absolutely nothing special and had ridiculous portion sizes. It’s also a bad sign when the bread is tastier than the entree. Super disappointing.

I tried on the bras and underwear from LIVELY in Soho and even though it’s priced reasonably, I couldn’t find anything I loved. I have a feeling that I could be into it though, so I’ll go again sometime in the future for sure.

I’ll forever love the lunch special at Pil Pil on the Upper East Side. I know I probably bring this up too much, but man. Love tapas.

I can’t stop buying sunglasses for sale at ALDO. And I won’t.

I finished season one of The West Wing and it was really good. I keep forgetting about it, but I should stick with it. People, like, loved that show, didn’t they?

I started using Sol De Janeiro’s Bum Bum Cream… on my butt. That’s what it’s for, no? So far, I mean… it feels smooth? It’s not at all greasy, which I like. Seems weird to have a cream just for your butt, but who am I to criticize.

Ate the fish tacos at Summer Salt and they’re good! It’s insane and great that they sell margaritas at a fast casual place, too.

Very into this Pat McGrath mascara that I got as a Sephora reward.

Love this Wells For Boys sketch (below) from a few years ago that I just saw for the first time (thanks for showing me, Irene!)

youtube

I haven’t been there in years, but I went to Sweet Afton for happy hour in Astoria the other day and had the pickle martini which actually wasn’t terrible. Love that place.

Tried the lunch burger at Peter Luger finally! And yes it was a good burger (love that they use American cheese and the bun was very good even though it's not a potato bun). Steakhouse burgers are always hard for me to rate since a steakhouse burger is a real *entree* unlike the regular, everyday burgers that other places have which are not as big and overwhelming. An everyday burger is easy to rate since it's either great, overrated or shit. A steakhouse burger has nuances, how juicy is too juicy? How's the quality of the meat? What are the ideal toppings? Should someone shoot me for my extensive burger thoughts? Yes.

I went to see a free orchestral performance put on by Julliard at Lincoln Center and it was great. It reminded me so much of going to my brother Gary’s recitals when I was a kid, just loved it.

Had dinner at Portale. The pasta was insane. This place might be a rival for L’Artusi! Dare I say it! Every bite was phenomenal. MUST return. (Noteworthy: it also just got two stars in the Times.)

LOVED this piece about Ricky Gervais and the Golden Globes. Favourite line: “The least risky thing in the world is announced apathy.“

Maybe you don’t know this, but 90% of post offices in the U.S. have bulletproof glass between the workers and the customers. It’s obviously because awful things have happened, but I’ve been going to this one post office in the city on 23rd street that doesn’t have the glass and the workers are SO MUCH MORE PLEASANT. I wish all locations were like this one. Just a thought.

Just bought another one of these UNIQLO shirts that I love in dark grey.

Every January I make sure to:

Mark down all holidays/birthdays/anniversaries (Valentine’s Day, Daylight Saving Times, Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Thanksgiving)

Check expiration dates for passport/license/health card/insurance and write down any important renewal dates

I’ve watched the first two new episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm and it fucking blows. There was only one thing I laughed at (when a server thought Larry was “oggling” her but he was really just keeping an eye on her tray with pigs in blankets) but OTHER THAN THAT, what a piece of shit season so far! I fucking hated the part in one episode where he videotapes the consent given between him and some woman as they’re making out. ALSO, and this has happened a few times over the seasons, he’s recycling fucking Seinfeld jokes. FROM THE SHOW. Talking about when it’s too late to get “Happy New Year-ed”? Are we kidding here?! Fucking lazy as hell. I might just stop watching.

I watched the new Taylor Swift documentary on Netflix and it’s really good. Even if you have zero opinion on her, I really liked it. (It also introduced me to this great song.)

Things that I’m looking forward to this month: seeing a Raptors game at Barclays Center, finally sitting down and watching season two of Shrill in its entirety, reading Joan Rivers’ book Enter Talking and and maybe going to another Restaurant Week lunch before the end date. February, please oh please don’t be as terrible as January.

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in December over here!

#this is liz heather #Liz Heather #Curb Your Enthusiasm #Taylor Swift #Netflix

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xxxthe-grammar-nazixxx · 6 years ago

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Like a Boss

Disclaimer: This is a Misfits fanfic. Any extra characters not originally on the show have been added by me. I do not own these characters (apart from Moira and Reg, her superior). Caution, some iffy language, sex scenes, and a heathy dose of wishful thinking. Set during season 2 after Nathan finds out he has a brother. A new PO turns up, but she has an ulterior motive. However, her plans don’t go quite the way she expected...

Part 1

Moira watched them from the safety of her new office. With the blinds drawn and the louvres open, she could see them, but she was pretty sure they couldn’t see her. Which was just the way she liked it. The word was stealth. She felt rather like the lioness who waits patiently in the long grass for the weakest antelope to separate from the herd.

And there he was.

At first glance, probably nobody would consider this guy the weakest link. He was loud, brassy, frequently crude, and clearly got off on being the center of attention. As a prison guard, and then a parole officer, she’d seen her fair share of his type. They were the class clowns, the ones who made it easier for the real threat to sneak under the radar and turn a relatively simple job into a complete and utter clusterfuck. It’d be a genius ploy - if these types actually had any idea what they were capable of. But too often, what was on the surface was the sum-total of its parts.

The rest of them … well, they pretty much made up your average group of ne’er-do-wells. There was the athlete, the pretty girl, the chav and the quiet kid. Moira fully intended to keep a sharp eye on the quiet kid. They usually turn out to be your garden-variety virgin weirdos but sometimes you find a diamond in the rough. Or a great big bloody thorn in your side. Moira wondered which this one would turn out to be.

Enough sizing up, she thought, I’d better get out there before Groucho Marx decides he’s going to take control of things in my absence. Knowing the paper-pushers in the department, they probably hadn’t even alerted these guys that their last probation officer had gone missing. That would explain why they turned up in the first place. If they knew, they’d have probably decided to skive off for a few days.

Grabbing a hair tie, she wrangled her bright red mop into a serviceable ponytail and checked the mirror in her handbag to make sure she didn’t have any of the poppy seeds from that morning’s breakfast muffin in her teeth. There was nothing worse than trying to assert your authority with a bunch of young people – especially delinquents like these – if you gave them even an inch of rope to hang you with.

The one she’d privately dubbed Groucho Marx because of his thick eyebrows and propensity to flirt with a light bulb was in the middle of a mock race call, as the group in the adjoining common room were put through their paces. She peered through the blinds at the scene, trying to make out what manner of creature was being forced to compete for the entertainment of humans.

It’s a crab race, she realized. Are they for real? Of all the things they could be using this place for, they decide to put on a time-trial for crustaceans. I’ve got to get out of this place, she thought, shaking her head, before they infect me with their craziness!

She approached the group quietly. Which wasn’t easy because Groucho was on a roll with his race-call, and she almost laughed out loud. They seemed to be egging on a small, speedy crab with better peripheral vision than his peers. While the others waddled sideways and backwards and all over the shop, the speedster had his eye on the prize – whatever that was.

‘Run, Forrest, run,’ urged Groucho.

Okay, I really should find out his name, Moira thought. Ditto to all of them. Time to break up this little shindig.

She cleared her throat and barked out an ‘Oi’ that was just a bit louder than she’d intended, because even the crab-wranglers looked up, temporarily taking their eyes off their charges. What ensued can only be described as utter mayhem as the crab-wranglers tried to work out whose shellfish was whose. A tubby, middle-aged man with a whistle around his neck glared at Moira. ‘Good work’, he called out. ‘Now how are we supposed to figure out who the winner is?’

‘That would generally be whoever’s in the lead,’ Moira replied, calmly, nodding in the direction of Speedy Gonzalez, who was mere inches from the finishing line while his fellow competitors were, well … not. But she couldn’t resist an extra jab at the referee’s expense. ‘Of course, you could have invested in some name tags. You know, put some stickers on their shells with numbers on them?’

The referee looked positively apoplectic. Either that or he was having a heart attack.

‘Lady’s got a point there,’ Groucho observed. ‘I mean, it’s not a very well-organized affair if you ask me.’

‘I’m not askin’ you; am I, Curly Sue?’

‘Hey hey,’ Groucho cut in, putting his hands up in surrender. ‘No need to get personal! I was just offering a bit of constructive criticism.’

‘I think we should leave them to it, don’t you?’ Moira pointed out. ‘They’ve got more than enough to handle without an audience.’

‘And you are?’ This was from the resident chav, a girl who wore her blonde hair scraped back from her face so tightly that it was frankly amazing she could move her forehead.

‘I’m Moira, your new probation officer.’

‘What happened to our last probation officer?’ asked the one she’d pegged as the dark horse of the group. He was mildly good-looking, with pale skin and a perpetually pained expression.

‘Oh, he quit. Said something like he’d rather be in Aruba than hang out with you rejects.’ Moira rolled her eyes. ‘Also, he said something about not wanting to be the “next cab off the rank”, whatever that means.’

The athlete – a tall, black kid – scoffed. ‘Yeah, that sounds like him.’

‘He must have heard about Sally,’ frowned the short, pretty one. ‘We never found out what happened to her, either.’

‘Well, apparently she’s also missing,’ Moira informed her. ‘Her and her fiancé, Tony. Remember him?’

She couldn’t miss the chorus of silent looks that passed between them.

‘What do you mean, she’s gone missing?’ The pretty girl asked. ‘Is Sally all right?’

‘I think what it means is, they don’t actually know where she is,’ Groucho explained, with more than an air of condescension.

‘Well, d’uh, Nathan! All I meant was … well, she was the best one yet. She actually seemed to care.’ The pretty girl gave Groucho – or, Nathan, rather - a look that could kill, and he took a step back in mock panic.

Moira blinked. ‘The best one yet … Hang on … how many PO’s have you guys had, exactly?’

‘Oh, just two,’ Nathan informed Moira. ‘Since the storm, I mean.’

This drew a chorus of warning glares from his peers. Wait a tic, Moira thought. What in the blue blazes is going on here? What are they hiding?

‘That would be the storm from a few weeks ago, right?’ she asked the room in general. ‘The one with the giant hailstones or whatever the hell they were?’

‘They were bits of meteor rock, actually. The council had them scientifically tested.’

‘Oh, shut up, Barry! No one wants to hear your theories about aliens.’ Nathan sniffed.

I’ve got him pegged, Moira thought. Take the attention from him for a millisecond and he can’t cope.

Barry bristled with resentment. ‘I don’t think it’s aliens. I think …’

‘’Look,’ Moira interrupted, ‘I think we’ve spent enough time getting in the way of the Crustacean Olympics here. I think we should move off somewhere a bit quieter, where we can all hear ourselves think, and introduce ourselves. How’s that for a plan?’

****

‘So,’ Moira said, in a low voice into the phone’s receiver so that her charges wouldn’t overhear her if they chose to eavesdrop at the door, ‘I think something is definitely rotten in Denmark. They alluded to the storm – or the tall, loudmouth did – and they all gave him what can only be described as a death-stare. I think he’s the weak link, and I think he can be broken.’

‘Moira, these kids need a firm hand, not Tomas Torquemada.’

‘Oh, come on, Reg!’ she countered, with a grin. ‘Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.’

‘You were just dying to drop that one, weren’t you?’ he laughed.

‘Excuse my French; but fuck yeah. Anyway, I wasn’t talking about employing any heavy-handed interrogation tactics. If you really want to know what happened to both Tony and Sally, leave it to me. I’ll get it out of him. Them,’ she corrected herself, quickly.

‘Hmmm… I’ll leave it in your capable hands, then,’ her boss decided. ‘But no rough stuff, Moira. You’re dealing with kids here. Not hardened criminals.’

‘That,’ Moira told him, ‘remains to be seen.’

****

She glided along a safe distance behind Nathan and the athlete – whose name was Curtis and who looked oddly familiar, although she couldn’t place him – and watched them, wishing she had the capabilities of the London Metropolitan police on her side, like she used to. She could have used a bug on one of these kids. Nathan was out, as he didn’t appear to enjoy the sensation of clothes against his skin for any length of time, so maintaining covert surveillance on him was going to be a challenge.

But any one of the others might have worked. Especially Simon, as unlike Nathan, he did like clothes. Multiple layers in fact. Plenty of places to pin a tiny little receiver …

Wait, why am I even thinking about this? Moira wondered. Like Reg said, I’m not in corrections anymore. Prison stings are a part of my past. I need to get that through my thick skull! What I can do, however, is keep a close eye on this bunch. Nice work, if you can get it! They’re all fairly decent looking, for amateur criminals. No missing teeth, overpowering BO, or tattooed knuckles with this lot!

Some twenty yards in front of her, Nathan jumped up onto a concrete pylon and mimicked the Karate Kid in that famous stance. He didn’t last long though, because Curtis gave him a playful push in the back. His sense of balance only just saved him from winding up in the river a few feet away. ‘You wanker!’ Nathan exclaimed, laughing. ‘You’ll keep.’

He’s the one, Moira decided. He’s the key to all of this. Now, how do I get him to do what I want?

****

She had her answer fairly early on. That very week, as a matter of fact. It was a Friday, and the kids were talking about what they were going to get up to once they hung up their coveralls for the weekend. There was the usual baiting of Simon, who, according to Nathan, was probably going to either play World of Warcraft non-stop for 72 hours or set something on fire; and some talk about Kelly getting back into a club she’d previously been banned from entering because of a catfight between her and her ex’s new girlfriend. One thing Moira could always say about her job – it was never boring.

Then she saw her opening. Or rather, Nathan handed it to her.

‘So, Miss,’ (which was the name he’d taken to calling her, for some reason known only to himself). ‘How do you let your hair down?’ He hung off the back of his chair, his green eyes glinting with mischief as usual. One thing she could say about Nathan Young: he was definitely easy on the eyes, if not the ears! (It wasn’t that she didn’t like his accent. He just never seemed to shut up).

She grinned despite herself. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know, boyo.’

‘You’re Irish, aren’t you.’

‘Gee, whatever gave you that idea?’

‘Well, your name, for starters.’

‘I could be Scottish.’

‘Yeh, but you’re not.’

‘No, I’m not,’ she agreed.

‘Why don’t you have an accent, then?’

‘I do, I’ve just spent a really long time in England. Practically grew up here. But every now and then – especially when I get angry or … otherwise emotional, the Irish in me does come out.’

The dimple in his left cheek became deeper as his grin grew wider. ‘Otherwise emotional? Hm… what would that entail, exactly?’

Moira chuckled. ‘Does your mind ever leave the gutter, young man?’

‘On occasion. Not really.’ He leaned his chin in his hand. His intense stare was beginning to make her nervous. And Moira, by nature, was not a nervous person.

She sighed. ‘I think those sorts of things are best left for me to know and for you to wonder about. Don’t you?’

‘Probably, but I’m just curious.’

‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ she reminded him.

‘Ah Miss, you’re a mystery. Get it? A Miss …’

‘I get it,’ she said, smiling despite herself. Stay focused. Don’t let him sidetrack you, her inner voice warned. He’s surprisingly good at that. The kid could sell ice to the Eskimos. The dimple alone would close the deal.

He increased the wattage on his stare. Moira’s hands started to move of their own volition, playing with her watch; fidgeting with the amethyst ring on her right hand. What is this? she thought. I’m supposed to be putting him under the pump!

‘How old are you?’

She gaped at him. ‘Nathan Young, you know better than to ask any woman her age!’

‘Forty?’

‘Close enough. I’ll give you that.’

‘Fifty?’

‘Steady on! You’ll have me in a nursing home, soon enough.’

‘So older than forty, younger than fifty. I can work with that.’

‘Just what is that supposed to mean, exactly?’ She coughed. He was walking a line, now. She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or turned off.

‘Well, see, thing is, my old man …’

‘You are not thinking what I think you’re thinking!’

He blinked, innocently. ‘What?’

‘Setting me up with your “old man.”’ She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

He burst into a gale of laughter. ‘No, no … that’s not it, at all.’

‘Then what? What are you getting at?’

He regained his composure and met her gaze fair and square. ‘I was going to say, my old man’s getting married next Saturday. I don’t … I was invited but … we don’t really get along. There’s a plus one on the invitation, and … I noticed you’re not married, and you don’t have any pictures of any gentlemen friends on your desk, so … I was wondering … well, if you would kinda, sorta … wanna go as my date.’

Moira stifled the almost explosive urge to giggle. ‘Me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What about Kelly or Alisha?’

‘I’ve …’

‘You’ve already asked them,’ she finished for him. ‘Nice to be first choice, I guess.’

He winced but didn’t apologize. At least, not right away. Instead he glanced warily in the direction of the others, who’d wandered off toward the vending machines, arguing about who was paying for the next round of crisps and sweets. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘Alisha’s kind of with Curtis at the moment, and Kelly said something, but I’m not sure what it was because I don’t speak … whatever language it is that she speaks. That girl really needs an interpreter.’

‘So, she could have said yes?’

‘Going by the expression on her face at the time, I’m gonna say no.’

Moira shook her head, amused. Nathan’s face fell, almost comically. ‘Oh, you’re not saying no, too?’

‘Surely there’s someone closer to your own age that you could ask?’

‘Not without being accused of in-breeding, no.’

Moira did laugh, then. And had to try and stop herself because he really did look dejected.

He sighed. ‘I guess I’ll have to give it a miss, then. I mean, what am I worried about, right? Dad’s not going to give a crap. He’s got his new family. The new missus is half his age, she’ll probably give him another sprog in about nine months’ time and then he won’t have to worry about this little black …’

Moira reached out and put her hand over his. ‘I’ll go.’

His face brightened. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, if it matters that much to you, I’ll go. I’ll probably regret it and you’re sure as hell not getting anything extra out of it, so don’t even think about it – but I’ll go. Happy?’

He grinned, the dimple making another appearance. ‘Ecstatic.’

****

‘So, how’s the subterfuge coming along?’ Her boss asked her, as they sat in a booth at their local, her cradling a G & T and he a Guinness.

‘Slowly.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘I’m biding my time. What’s the rush? They’ve got about six weeks ‘til they finish their community service. I’ll find out what’s going on by then. Slow and steady wins the race.’

‘Right’ Reg conceded. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this more than you should?’

‘Come on Reg, when was the last time I got to play detective on the job? Bristol? You hired me for a reason. I’ll get it done.’

‘Oh, I have no qualms about that,’ he said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them for the third time in half an hour.

‘What do you have qualms about, then?’

‘Your methods.’

She was relieved then, that she hadn’t told him about her impending ‘date’. He might consider the idea a gross violation of her authority over these kids, and while it probably was, she was chuffed at the fact that she hadn’t even had to pull any stunts of her own to try and get closer to Nathan. He’d handed her the opportunity on a silver platter.

‘I told you, there will be no Good Cop/Bad Cop. I’m over that.’

‘Moira, with you it was never Good Cop/Bad Cop. It was only ever Bad Cop/Bad cop.’

‘Oh, hardy-har-har.’

‘I’m not joking.’

‘If you were that worried I’d cross some kind of line, why did you hire me?’ She stared him down, defiantly.

He sighed. ‘Because you’ve got a way with kids. Sorry – young adults. They’re not kids. They trust you. They like you. You’re like that youngish aunt with the cool hair that they can confide in. And believe me, there is something they’re hiding from everybody. Not just the fact that Tony and Sally are missing. Something else.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Something weird.’

‘Weird how? I haven’t noticed anything.’

‘I don’t know, but it’s got something to do with that storm. Everything’s connected to that storm.’

‘Reg, you sound like one of those nutjob conspiracy theorists.’

‘Just … keep your ear to the ground. That’s all I’m saying. And don’t overstep.’

She sighed and downed the rest of her gin and tonic in one gulp. ‘Well, you’ll be happy to know I’m making decent headway with the weakest link.’

‘In what sense?’

‘In the sense that he flirts with me now, probably more than with the girls his own age.’

‘Well, you still only look about 35.’

‘Thanks, Reg.’ Moira’s eyes skirted the bar across the aisle and stopped in their tracks. Oh fuck, she thought. That’s the last thing I need right now!

‘What? What’s wrong?’

‘Speak of the devil, and he appears,’ murmured Moira. ‘Do you want another drink?’

Reg lifted his glass. ‘I haven’t even finished my first one. But you owe me a round, anyway.’

‘Cheap bastard. I’ll be back.’

She set her glass down on the bar mat beside Nathan’s elbow and gave him a playful hip-bump. ‘What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?’

‘Miss!’ He grinned and threw an arm over her shoulders. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

‘You’re drunk.’

‘No. Well … Mildly buzzed.’

She sniffed. ‘You smell like a distillery.’

‘Oh that. I spilled a Bourbon and Coke on myself earlier. Had to go to the men’s and clean up. Lucky I like dark colours or I woulda looked like I pissed myself.’

Moira couldn’t help but smile. ‘Some girl tipped her drink on you, didn’t they?’

He winced. ‘She dumped it in my lap, yeah.’

‘What did you say to her?’

‘Oh, I just gave her one of my standard lines. It’s usually a winner, but I don’t know what happened.’

‘Try me.’

‘What?’

‘What’s the line? I might be able to tell you where you went wrong.’

She ordered for herself and Reg; and gestured to Nathan. ‘It’s my shout.’

‘Oh, no I’m fine, thanks.’

‘So, what was the line?’

‘Oh … I don’t know … I’m really kind of second-guessing myself now.’

‘Nathan, pretend I’m some young thing you want to shag.’

It was relatively dim in the bar, but she could still see the glint in his eyes. ‘Miss, you are some young thing I want to shag.’

Moira felt her face grow hot. Don’t pay any attention. The guy would flirt with a doorknob. You know this. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I’m flattered. I really am. So … give us this line, already! I’m dead curious, now.’

‘Well … it’s … it’s nothing. It’s embarrassing. It’s kind of something I stole from … Austin Powers.’

Moira handed the bartender a tenner. ‘I’m sorry, what was that? You stole it from where?!’

‘Austin Powers’. If possible, he’d dropped the volume a few more notches until he was almost whispering. It was a good thing she was standing elbow to elbow with him.

‘Wait, that sounded like you said you got it from Austin Powers.’

He physically cringed. ‘Yeeeeah.’

Moira bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from laughing. ‘Not the suave spy I would have gone for but… horses for courses.’

‘I said …’ He leaned closer, so that his breath tickled her ear. ‘Those pants are really tight; how do I get into them? Then she was supposed to say …’

‘You can start by buying me a drink. I know it. It’s from The Spy who Shagged Me. Smooth, boyo.’ She chuckled. ‘Did you ever think of just walking up to a girl and saying “hi, I’m Nathan, can I buy you a drink?” You never know, it might actually work.’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’

‘Why not?’

‘You mean, be myself?’

‘That’s the general idea, yeah.’

‘Sounds risky.’

Moira laughed. ‘I think you’ll survive.’

‘So … are you … here with anybody?’

‘My boss, actually,’ Moira nodded in Reg’s direction. When she turned back, Nathan had a quizzical eyebrow raised. ‘No, it’s not like that. We’ve been mates for years. He’s happily married.’

‘Oh.’ She could have sworn he looked relieved. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Wait – Moira thought. Why would I want him to be relieved that I’m not seeing someone?!

‘Can I ask you a favor?’ She said, lowering her voice and leaning closer.

‘Of course. I mean, you’re doing me a hell of a favor on Saturday. I mean … if you’re still …’

‘About that,’ she interrupted, ‘if you happen to get talking to my boss at all, don’t mention the wedding to him, all right? It will not go down well. It’s technically … overstepping.’

‘So, you’re still coming?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

He closed his eyes. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you! I could totally kiss you right now.’

She should have been used to this sort of talk from him by now, but it still caused a jolt of electricity to race up her spine. And I want to let you, she thought, but there’s no way on God’s green Earth I’m admitting to that!

‘Oh well … that’s sweet. Um … I have to get back to my boss now so … I’ll see you Monday?’

‘Monday,’ he agreed.

She took one quick glance back at him before she turned and walked away. He looked so hopeful, so happy. For the first time since he’d mentioned the wedding, she felt good about saying yes. And maybe even a tiny shiver of girlish anticipation; the kind she hadn’t experienced in years.

You’ve still got it, girl, she thought.

****

Moira gave herself the onceover in the standing mirror in her bedroom. After asking Nathan what the dress code was; and finding that it was fairly relaxed – just a smidge more ritzy than smart casual – she went for an olive-green cocktail dress that her ex always said made her look like a mermaid, with her red hair tumbling over her shoulders. A little bit of gold eyeshadow and burgundy lipstick and she was good to go. Not for the first time she was glad for her peaches and cream complexion. She didn’t need much foundation at all. Taking a deep breath, she slid on a pair of heels and grabbed her gold glow-mesh clutch. Rummaging around inside to make sure she had enough cash for the open bar, she hesitated, spotting the condom tucked in the folds of her purse. Her stomach clenched. She remembered why she’d left it there, months ago. The night she and Paul had gone out with friends and argued; and broke up. It had come completely out of the blue. She’d hoped the night was going to end another way, because she’d gotten a promotion, and wanted to celebrate, but that wasn’t on the cards.

She started to take the condom out – then had a change of heart. Always best to be prepared. She’d been a Brownie when she was a kid. They were always banging on about the Scouts’ motto.

Just as she’d popped two Mentos in her mouth and double-checked her hair, the doorbell rang. At least he’s on time, she thought. Now, this is not a real date, so stop thinking like it is! It’s a favour between two friends. Work colleagues, she reminded herself, quickly. In fact, not even that. In a weird way, I’m kind of his boss!

And as his boss, you have some information to gather, she could almost hear Reg say.

Swallowing the mints quickly, Moira opened the door.

Suddenly, the wad in her throat seemed twice as big and twice as hard going down. Was this the same guy who regularly make fart and sex jokes in the same breath?! It didn’t seem possible. He looked, well … frankly edible, really, in a casual pewter-grey suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. As was his fashion, the shirt was unbuttoned to just below his sternum, showing off a long, slim golden triangle of flawless skin. Moira found her eyes kept going to that strip of skin as if it was somehow magnetic. Finally, she dragged her eyes back up to his face. ‘Nice suit,’ she conceded.

He eyed her appreciatively. ‘Nice dress. You look like a …’

‘Mermaid?’

‘I was gonna go with Bond Girl, but yeah. Mermaid will do.’

‘Thanks. You’ve done something to your hair,’ she noticed. ‘Did you use a straightener?’

He ran a hand over it, as if the last however-long-it-took to get organized had slipped his mind. ‘Uh no, just some product. I mean … okay, not some. A lot.’

‘It looks nice.’

‘You mean, not like the usual bird’s nest,’ he joked.

‘I thought women were supposed to be bad at taking compliments.’

He chuckled but didn’t reply. Was it her imagination or did he seem nervous?

She slipped out the door and locked it behind her. ‘Sorry, I’d ask you in, but we should probably get going.’ She explained. Plus, the thought of you standing in my lounge wearing that suit … I’m not going to be held responsible for what I’m likely to do!

‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ he replied. A sly grin passed over his lips and was gone almost before she had the chance to register. ‘Maybe later.’

‘Yeah, buddy. Keep thinking that.’

The drive to the bowls club was quiet, and full of a strange tension. He tried to dissipate it by turning on the radio but wouldn’t settle for one station. Moira gritted her teeth. She wished he would just let them sit in silence for a few minutes. But it was as if he needed noise as a kind of … social lubricant, maybe? Which was odd in and of itself because he was the most sociable person she’d ever met.

At the club, he ran around the back of the car and opened her door for her. It was so sweet. At least she thought so, until he explained that he’d borrowed the car from his mum for the night and the passenger door doesn’t open from the inside. So much for chivalry not being dead, she thought, stifling a grin.

Retrieving a hastily wrapped gift from the boot of the car, Nathan offered her his arm. ‘Okay, now, the story is …’

‘There’s no story,’ she finished for him. ‘I’m just a friend. You can say you met me at the community center. You don’t have to tell them anything more than that.’ She took his arm. ‘Besides, you don’t owe them anything. He might be your dad, but as you said, he did run out on you and your mum.’

‘Right, right.’ He cleared his throat. ‘True enough.’

‘Just relax,’ she told him, with an amused smile. ‘You look like you’re trying hard not to have a case of explosive diarrhea.’

He laughed a funny, high-pitched laugh. ‘Sexy.’

‘You don’t have anything to prove to these people. Remember that.’

‘I’ll try.’

****

The bowls club had been decked out in white frothy tulle, with magenta trimming, for the ceremony. They took a seat toward the back, so as not to make a scene, and Nathan busied himself peering around as Moira sat quietly, strategizing. How was she going to bring up the whole missing PO issue – pardon, missing PO’s, plural – without clueing him in to what she was up to? She could hardly bring it up in polite conversation at the reception. Maybe later? Perhaps that whole idea of inviting him back to her place wasn’t such a bad one, after all. If she got him sufficiently plastered, the alcohol could work as a kind of truth serum … Would he stop shaking that bloody knee, she thought, interrupting her own train of thought. It’s distracting! She gave him another couple of minutes, then reached out and clamped a hand on the offending knee, which was, fortunately, the one closest to her (or to the casual observer, it would have looked super-iffy!)

Nathan spun around. ‘Huh? What?’

‘Your knee was jumping up and down like a bloody jackhammer,’ Moira whispered. ‘Do you need a Valium? I have some in my clutch.’ Good idea; said that voice in her head. Valium on top of alcohol. He’ll be like a lamb to the slaughter. If it doesn’t knock him out completely.

‘No, I’ll be fine.’

Damn.

He grinned. ‘As long as you keep that hand on my leg.’

She removed the hand.

The ceremony was blessedly short. Not on the level of the short, short version in Spaceballs (Do you? Do you? Good, you’re married; kiss her) but it left out all the boring, sentimental bullshit most wedding ceremonies are full of and just got down to business. Moira had to wonder if Nathan Snr’s wife was a blow-in looking for a visa. Not that Nathan’s dad couldn’t possibly find someone who wanted to marry him for himself, but the ceremony had that rushed quality of a marriage of convenience.

‘Where is your new stepmother from?’ she whispered to his son.

‘Hungary, why?’

‘Oh … just curious. She looks familiar,’ she lied. ‘How long had they been together?’

‘About half a year, I think. Maybe less.’ He turned toward her. ‘Why the interest?’

‘Like I said, just … making conversation.’

He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘You aren’t thinking of dobbing them into immigration, are you? Because frankly, I think that’d be a low blow. Even if my old man probably deserves it. He seems happy.’

‘No, I’m not thinking that at all,’ she assured him. ‘Just because I’m part of the system, doesn’t mean I am the system.’

‘Okay. I believe you. Thousands wouldn’t.’

After the ceremony Nathan purposely dragged Moira to the front of the line to meet and greet the married couple. Now he’s showing off, she thought, and the idea made her smile. Even though they were supposed to be just friends, Nathan clearly wanted his father’s approval. She curled her arm around his and turned her body toward him as they reached the happy couple. He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘I thought you said just friends? That you weren’t into pretending we were a couple?’

‘I did. And that’s still true,’ she whispered back. ‘But there’s nothing wrong with a little confusing body language. Don’t you want to make them talk?’

Nathan grinned widely. ‘You’re a woman after my own heart, Miss.’

‘You can drop the “Miss”, too, while you’re at it,’ she told him. ‘They’ll think you’re dating your teacher.’

‘Moira, then.’

She liked the way he said her name. She also liked the way he was looking at her now. Not in a sleazy, undress-her-with-his-eyes glaze, but a respectful, “we’re in this together” way. To quote the man himself, she thought, I could totally kiss him right now! Stop, her inner voice warned. Just stop. You’re heading into dangerous territory here. You’ve got to look at this like it’s an undercover operation. He’s the witness. And what do they tell you about witnesses in law enforcement? Never get too close. Especially not physically!

‘Nathan! So good you could come.’ The two men shared an awkward hug and parted swiftly.

Nathan leaned forward and kissed his new stepmother on the cheek. ‘Congratulations.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, in a thick Eastern European accent. ‘I look forward to getting to know you, Nathan.’

‘Err … yeah, same here.’

‘Hopefully one day you will have a little brother or sister to look up to you.’

Nathan glanced at his old man. ‘So, you never told her, then?’

His father paled. ‘About what?’

‘About Jamie.’

‘Who’s Jamie?’

‘Yet another kid he abandoned,’ Nathan informed her. ‘My half-brother. See, he likes the idea of family, he just can’t deal with the reality of it.’

‘You little shit …’

And it was on for young and old.

God, you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Moira thought, as Nathan and his father got into it, in front of the entire congregation. Yet she couldn’t help feeling a begrudging admiration for him. And had to wonder … had this been his plan all along? To humiliate his old man in front of everyone he’s ever known? Is that why he deliberately invited a woman at least twenty years older than him, to be his official date? Considering Nathan’s father’s new wife looked about 27 years old, Moira wouldn’t mind betting she’d hit the nail on the head. It was a stark comparison – the father with the much younger woman, facing off against his son, whose date who could have been his cool, classy aunt.

I have to do something about this, she thought, as the situation looked as if it was about to resort to fisticuffs. It’s a wedding, for fuck’s sake!

She’d broken up prison fights before. This should be a cinch. Putting herself between Nathan and his father, Moira pushed both men back to their corners, simultaneously.

‘Grow up, you two,’ she commanded. ‘Mr. Young, I’m so sorry. I had no idea he planned on making a scene. Nathan, you’re coming with me. Don’t argue.’

‘Who’s this?’ Mr. Young asked Nathan.

‘This is Moira,’ Nathan replied. ‘My date.’

‘His girlfriend, he means,’ Moira jumped in. ‘Aren’t I, Baby?’ She gave him a coy smile, and a secret wink.

Nathan blinked a couple of times and looked for all the world like a fish out of water. She didn’t wait for his reply. ‘Anyway, he’s sorry he ruined your wedding. Aren’t you, Nathan?’ She whipped around to glare at him. ‘Apologize.’

Nathan’s old man smirked. ‘By George, he’s finally found someone with a bigger set of balls than he has.’

Moira responded to this by knocking Mr. Young flat on his back, grabbed Nathan, and they both got the hell out of there before WWIII erupted.

****

‘Thank you for that. You saved the day,’ Nathan said, in between gasps for breath, as he collapsed against the side of his mum’s car.

‘I thought he was going to flatten you. You’re lucky he reined himself in.’ She shook her head. ‘What possessed you?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘Just the idea of him erasing the fact that my brother existed … it was just so him, you know? So typical of him.’

‘Maybe he’s hoping for a second chance. To be a real father, I mean.’

‘Make that third chance. Okay … can we just go home? I need to get out of this monkey-suit.’ He pulled at the cuff of his shirt, roughly. ‘Damn thing’s choking me.’

Moira laughed. ‘You’re not even wearing a tie.’

He gave her an impatient look. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

Moira bit her lip. ‘I’m probably gonna get fired for this if they find out, but … how about we go to my place, instead? I mean, considering you obviously live at the community center.’

He blinked. ‘You know about that?’

‘Honey,’ Moira said, ‘Everyone knows about that.’

The second they were inside her apartment door, Nathan threw off his jacket and began unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt, as if they were like manacles around his wrists. Moira watched; amused. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘What have you got?’ he asked, pulling the tail of his shirt out of his pants and sighing with relief. ‘Anything single malt?’

‘Just gin, I’m afraid. But I do a wicked G and T.’

‘Okay. Thanks.’

In the kitchen, Moira poured their drinks then paused over his glass. Do I, or don’t I? Her conscience begged the question. But he did need calming down. He was much too wound up and suspicious of everything to spill his guts about the storm and Sally and Tony, and whatever other secret he and his fellow delinquents were keeping. A Valium would do the job just nicely.

Decision made.

When she returned with the drinks, Nathan was sitting on her sofa, shoes discarded on the polished floor and shirt unbuttoned, but still clinging fetchingly to his long, lean frame. The sliver of exposed skin had become a generous chunk, and Moira found herself thinking, but it’s not my birthday!

She joined him on the sofa and pressed a glass into her hand. ‘Drink up.’

And he did. Practically downed it in a few gulps. Made a face toward the end, and there was a scary second where Moira thought he’d noticed the bitter taste of the diazepam, but if he suspected he’d been drugged, he didn’t say anything.

She took the glass from him and set it on the coffee table. Leaned her cheek on the heel of her hand; her elbow on the back of the couch. She was grateful his eyes were closed at that point, because she felt a tiny speck of saliva at the corner of her mouth. Jesus Christ, I’m drooling, she thought, wiping it away quickly with her free hand. Any wonder, though. Look at him!

And she did. Taking advantage of the fact that he’d more than likely fallen asleep, her eyes followed the natural progression from his high cheekbones and full lips, down his throat to his collarbones. The open edges of his stark white shirt made his skin look golden in the muted light of her living room. She fought a compulsion to lean in and press her lips against his smooth chest. God he’s good-looking, she thought. Too bad he knows it! I’d better wake him up before I get caught doing something hideously embarrassing!

‘Nathan?’

No answer.

‘You two-pot screamer! Are you drunk already?’ she laughed.

His eyes remained closed. He hadn’t moved.

Moira frowned. ‘Nathan?’

He didn’t respond to that, either. She reached out and shook him by the shoulder. ‘Come on, lad. This isn’t funny. You’re freaking me out.’

She watched him, closely. Looking for any signs he was playing a prank on her. It would be just like him.

Wait, she thought. He’s not breathing!

She put a hand in front of his mouth and nose. Nothing. Not even the slightest puff of air. She grabbed the glass off the table and held it in front of his slightly open mouth.

No fog.

What the actual fuck?

Oh Christ, Moira thought, panic rising in her chest. I’ve killed him. He was allergic to Valium or something, and he didn’t know it, or he would have told me when I asked him if he wanted one earlier … and I drugged him without his knowledge and I’ve killed him!

‘Fuck … Nathan … you have to wake up. Please.’ She took him by the shoulders and shook him. ‘Wake up!’

When that didn’t work, the panic really started to set in. But so did the first aid training she’d been taught in her work as a prison officer. She jumped up from the couch and pushed the coffee table out of the way. Grabbing his legs, she spun them to the side, up onto the cushions, arranging him in a lying position on her sofa. It wasn’t the floor, but it would do.

She didn’t want to risk trying to move him to the floor in case she caused more damage, like a neck or spinal injury. When he was flat out on his back, Moira hovered over him and took a deep breath.

‘Okay, here goes,’ she said, and began CPR. Pinching his nose shut, she covered his mouth with hers and blew, thinking, this is not the way I wanted to be kissing him! She gave him three quick breaths, like she was taught, then checked his pulse.

Nothing.

‘Oh God oh God oh God oh God.’ She wasn’t a religious person by any stretch of the imagination. It was more a case of panic getting the better of her than any kind of praying. ‘Please don’t be dead!’

She arranged her hands over his heart and began compressions. Fifteen in all and then two more breaths. She counted as she worked. Checked his pulse again. She almost sobbed with relief when she felt it – weak, but it was there. She leaned in again to see if he was breathing …

And that’s when his eyes snapped open.

‘Oh fuck! Oh, thank God!’ Moira gasped. ‘Nathan, can you hear me?’

‘Of course, I can,’ he whispered, in a husky voice. ‘I’m not deaf.’

‘No, but you were dead.’ She checked his pulse again. ‘You were dead! I should call an ambulance, have you checked out properly.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.’ He started to sit up, but Moira pushed him down again.

‘What are you doing? You were just revived, for fuck’s sake! Lie down, take the load off!’

‘I’m really okay, Moira. Honestly.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Look … don’t call an ambulance. I’m fine. Anyway, I have … I have something to tell you.’

Wow, she thought. And I didn’t even have to break out the paddle! Truthfully, she felt a bit cheated about that. She’d been looking forward to a little light … persuasion.

‘What do you have to tell me?’ she asked, only just curbing the compulsion to ask, and does it have anything to do with two probation officers going missing and a third – snarky piece of work that he was – giving his resignation only weeks after starting the job?

‘The storm … it changed us. All of us.’ Nathan almost whispered. ‘Gave us … powers.’

Powers?!

‘Powers?’ Moira repeated. ‘I think I better call 999. I think you’ve suffered hypoxia. That’s lack of oxygen to the brain.’

Then he said something she expected even less than his previous confession.

‘I’m immortal.’

‘What?’

He started to sit up. This time she didn’t try to stop him. In truth, she was too stunned to do much of anything except stare in disbelief. ‘What?’

‘I can’t die.’

‘But you did die.’

‘What I mean is, I can’t stay dead.’

‘You look terrible. Pale. You should lie down again. Rest.’

He ran a hand through his hair, which had finally resisted all the product and was standing on end. ‘I’m fine, really. Can I get a glass of water, though?’

‘Of course.’

He waited. And chuckled. ‘You can leave me alone in the room, Moira. I’m not going to keel over on you again.’

‘Just checking.’

‘Come to think of it, why did I keel over in the first place?’

‘I … I don’t know,’ Moira lied. ‘You should see a doctor about that. It could be a heart thing.’ She backed into the kitchen, not willing to take her eyes off him, but not for the same reason as before! ‘You know,’ she called from the other room, ‘I’ve heard of people just dropping dead from arrythmias and stuff like that. Or it could have been a stroke.’

‘Why would I have a stroke? I’m as fit as a horse. Bit lanky on it, but I’m healthy otherwise.’

‘Like I said, I have no idea.’

She hated lying to him. She really did. It was on the tip of her tongue to confess what she’d done but … what would he do, then? Would he hate her? Would he refuse to talk about what happened on the day of the storm? What had happened to Tony, or Sally? There were too many variables. It was safer to lie.

She gave him the glass and watched him drink the water, a lot slower and more careful than he’d downed the tainted gin and tonic. Does he suspect me? She wondered. Does he even remember the taste of the G&T? God, I should really shut up right now. What if one of his powers is that he can read my mind?

Wow, Moira, taunted her inner voice. Pretty quick to believe him about that, weren’t you? Don’t you know when someone’s taking the piss? He’s obviously playing some kind of game with you. Cat and mouse. He knows you’re lying, so he’s concocted this big fantasy about being a superhero. Don’t get sucked in! I know you fancy him, but …

Shut up, she thought to herself. Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!!!

‘Moira?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I feel a bit … funny.’

‘I told you, you need to go to the hospital. You wouldn’t listen to me.’

He chuckled, loosely. ‘No, not like that.’

‘Like what then?’

His green eyes appraised her, slowly. ‘That is a really nice dress … did I mention that?’

‘Yes, you did, as a matter of fact.’ What was he getting at?

‘Good because you look smokin’ hot tonight. Like, seriously, if you weren’t my probation officer, I would have totally hit on you by now.’

She laughed, and felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘Well, thanks, that’s very sweet.’

‘But I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble, you know? That kind of thing, you could lose your job.’

He turned those gorgeous green eyes on her again. ‘And you’re the best one we’ve had yet. Haven’t even thought of killing you, once.’

What?!

‘What … sorry, what did you say?’

He burst out laughing. ‘I’m kidding!’ The laughing turned into a fit of coughing. He held a finger up as if to say wait, regrouped, and started again. ‘I really was just kidding. But … I think I should warn you … we know why you’re here.’

‘We?’

‘All of us. We know. You’re supposed to find out what’s going on. You know, with the first two PO’s.’

The jig, as they say, was up.

‘H-how … where did you get that information?’

‘Kelly.’

‘Kelly … what … so that’s her power? She can read minds?’

‘Yup.’

‘So … you’ve known all along.’ Sigh.

‘Yup.’

Moira sank into the couch beside him. ‘So that’s that, then.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you made me, didn’t you? I’m fucked. Any chance of finding out what happened now is … well, it never was, was it?’

He met her gaze, steadily. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I might be open to telling you some things.’ The corner of his mouth turned up in a sexy smirk.

‘Like what?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Just … things.’

Moira stifled a grin, and narrowed her eyes at him, instead. ‘You’re gonna make me drag it out of you, aren’t you?’

He raised his eyebrows a little. ‘Sounds like fun.’

And before she knew what she was doing, Moira was kissing him. The compulsion had won out. She wanted him so badly it was like a fire in her belly. A fire she couldn’t control and didn’t want to. A fire that reached right down into her thighs and swept her away. He began kissing her back - after a few seconds of being struck dumb, she imagined. She barely felt his hand stroke her cheek; push her hair behind her ear. All she could focus on was his lips moving against hers; his tongue lightly flickering in her mouth; her heart pounding in her ears. A lightheadedness set in. I have to breathe, she thought, but I don’t want this to ever stop!

His hand slid down to her hip and coaxed her right leg over both of his. In one swift movement she was straddling him. She broke contact with his lips to get some much-needed oxygen and kissed her way over to his earlobe, which she took between her teeth and nibbled, gently. She felt him grow hard against her. ‘You like that, huh?’ she whispered, and bit down a tiny bit harder. His breath got uneven; raspy. She kissed him on the mouth again. His left hand, which had been resting on her hip, slid upward and cupped her breast through the slinky fabric of her dress and bra. His thumb grazed her nipple, and it was her turn to gasp and try and regroup. But she’d lost track of what his other hand was doing. Until she felt it against her inner thigh, and then between them. He started rubbing gently, and she sank into him, her will to dominate proceedings shrinking with each stroke. His fingers sought out the waistband of her underwear and slipped inside. Moira gasped into his mouth and kissed him harder still.

She didn’t know if it was because she hadn’t been with anyone in months – almost a year, in fact – or because he was particularly good at what he was doing, but he had her bent almost double, leaning over him, burying her face in his dark curls and practically panting in less than a minute.

‘Moira,’ he whispered, ‘Check my jacket pocket. Left side.’

She nodded, still trying to catch her breath, and reached over for his jacket. Little ratbag, she thought. Looks like I wasn’t the only one who came prepared!

She raked her hair back from her face. ‘I’ll just put this on then, will I?’

He grinned. ‘Well, you could but I don’t think it would last very long, after that. But it’s up to you.’

She unwrapped the condom and unfastened his pants. Slid a hand inside his jockey shorts and curled it around his shaft. He closed his eyes and bit down hard on his bottom lip. Catching him just below the head of his penis, she held him firmly until his face relaxed.

‘See,’ she said. ‘I have my ways. You won’t come until I want you to.’

He took a shuddery breath. ‘Yes, Miss.’

I think I like the sound of that, she thought. ‘Okay,’ she said, once the condom was in place, ‘Let’s get that shirt off.’

‘Well I think if I’m going to be practically naked here, it’s only fair that you lose an item of clothing.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah’.

‘You think that, do you?’

‘Damn straight.’

She climbed off his lap and stood up in front of him. Hiking up her dress, she caught the waistband of her underwear and tugged them down. They fell into a pool at her feet. ‘There. That better?’

He nodded. ‘It’s a start.’

‘Well, it’s all you’re getting, for now,’ she informed him.

He smirked and tilted his head. ‘You’re a tad bossy, you know that?’

‘Well, I was a prison guard.’

His eyes widened. ‘Really?’

‘Yep. You guys can have your secrets and I can have mine.’

‘I don’t have any secrets from you. Not now. Not anymore. I’ve told you everything I know. Barry on the other hand …’

‘Simon is none of my concern right now,’ she said, kneeling between his legs. She leaned forward and grabbed the waistband of his pants. ‘Lift your butt.’

He did as he was told, and she tugged his pants down, pulling them off his legs and discarding them in the pile with his shoes. ‘Now for the shirt,’ she said.

‘Don’t you think this is awfully one-sided? I mean, here I am, naked, vulnerable …’

‘Shut up.’

‘Okay.’

When he was down to his jockey shorts, Moira stood up and looked him over, and for a brief moment, her bravado nearly slipped. He’s barely twenty-two years of age, she thought, and here I am, forty-three, closing in on menopause. What’s he going to think of me? I’m not all firm like girls his age. Things haven’t … stayed in the same place. They’ve moved. Gravity gets you eventually. What if he thinks I’m gross?

‘Are you okay?’

‘I just … yeah, I’m fine.’ She gulped and reached up, pushing the strap of her dress down her shoulder.

‘Hey, you know, I was only kidding. If you’re nervous about this, you can leave the dress on.’

‘That’s hardly fair though, is it?’

‘I just … don’t want you to be uncomfortable. That’s all. You look terrified.’

‘I do?’

He nodded. ‘You talk a good game, tough and all that, but you’re a softie inside. You care what people think.’

He’s right, she realized. Damn him, he’s figured me out.

‘And you wanna know what I think?’

She shrugged. ‘All right … what do you think?’

‘I think you’re beautiful. I think I’ve never been more turned on in my short, sad life.’

Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

She dropped the dress and watched him watch her. He didn’t lose his erection so that was something. Maybe he is telling the truth, she thought. She let the bra drop to the floor with the dress.

‘Sensational,’ he said, in a husky voice that didn’t sound quite like the cocky delinquent she knew.

‘Great,’ she said, with a nervous smile. ‘Now let’s get those jocks of yours off so I can shag you senseless.’

#misfits #nathan young #robert sheehan

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