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deancasheadcanons · 4 years ago

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Slightly Gayer

[ao3]

7.3k words post-15x18 domestic Dean/Cas (loosely) inspired by this artwork by skepticalfrog

Dean is sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and halfheartedly scrolling through the news. He can’t focus because his eyes keep drifting over to the other side of the kitchen, where Cas is cooking breakfast and talking on the phone with Claire.

Cas looks different, is the thing. He’s wearing a pair of bright green boxer briefs and one of Dean’s old gray t-shirts, neither of which fit him right. Since becoming human, Cas exercises constantly, stacking his arms and legs with thickly corded muscle.

But he eats, too, and loves eating as much as Dean does, so his stomach juts out big and round from his muscular chest, several inches of tan underbelly visible out of the bottom of Dean’s shirt. The fabric is caught in the crease between his chest and belly, taut around the outline of his nipple rings. The sleeves are also too tight around his biceps, revealing the Enochian tattoos that extend from shoulder to elbow of each arm.

Dean knows what Cas looks like, of course he knows. He knows every inch of his perfect body. But the way Cas moves, Dean is still getting used to. Still studying.

Cas has the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, his hands occupied with making pancakes and eggs. He has his weight shifted to one hip, his butt sticking out even more than it already does, and he keeps waving the spatula around animatedly as he talks. He takes a drink of coffee, then scratches his belly, then gestures with his hand, flipping his wrist rather...limply.

He turns around to the kitchen island to plate the pancakes and catches Dean staring at him. He smiles and winks in his direction while continuing his conversation with Claire.

Dean tries to look back down at his phone. He makes it about five seconds before his eyes find their way over to Cas again. He takes a long drink of coffee and sets his mug down as he stands up. He strides over to Cas and comes at him from behind, wrapping his arms around his middle and burying his face in his soft neck. He kisses the tattoo that’s on the juncture of Cas’ collarbone and neck—Dean’s name in Enochian.

“I’ve gotta go, Claire,” Cas says, his voice as deep and gravelly as ever. “Tell Kaia I said hello. Yes. OK, bye.”

Dean squeezes Cas’ belly and presses long, slow kisses to his neck.

Cas turns the stove off and moves the eggs over to a different burner. His hands, now free, fold over top of Dean’s. He laces their fingers together.

“Claire said they’re thinking of coming by to visit in a few days,” Cas says, leaning his weight back against Dean.

“Mm. Good.” Dean continues his kisses.

Cas huffs a laugh and rubs his hand up and down Dean’s forearm. “Feeling affectionate this morning?”

“Always. C��mere.” He tugs at Cas to get him to turn around in his arms, then he fits his hands to his hips and presses his flat torso against Cas’ gut before leaning over and kissing him on the lips.

Cas puts a hand to the side of Dean’s face and the other on the counter behind him, supporting his weight against it. He moans into the kiss, pushing his tongue hungrily into Dean’s mouth and rolling his hips in an intoxicating rhythm.

They stop after a few minutes. Cas keeps his hand on Dean’s face, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth across his cheek as he smiles softly up at him.

“What?” Dean asks self-consciously. He circles his own thumbs into Cas’ love handles.

“Nothing,” Cas replies, his smile widening. “You’re just very beautiful.”

Dean ducks back in for another quick kiss. Then, “You move differently than you used to.”

Cas tilts his head to the side, furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re, uh, I don’t know. Your mannerisms...you’re more feminine. Gayer.”

Cas laughs and drops his head forward. His hand falls away from Dean’s face, and he flips it out palm up. “Well, Dean, I am gay.”

Now Dean is laughing. He pulls Cas closer to him and once again pushes his face against his neck. “You were just so stiff before.” He pulls back again and looks Cas in the eye. “I don’t like thinking that you were, I don’t know, holding yourself back. Repressed.”

Cas barks out a laugh. “Yes, please, tell me more about how I was repressed.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” He squeezes a soft hip. “I’m starving, let’s eat.”

They sit perpendicular to each other at the kitchen table. Cas rubs one socked foot up and down Dean’s calf while they eat.

“Do I move different?” Dean asks with a mouthful of eggs.

Cas frowns at him, mug of coffee in his hand. “Is that a trick question?”

“Oh god, I do, don’t I?”

“Well, first of all, Dean, your voice is an octave higher than it used to be.”

Dean blushes and shoves more food in his mouth, avoiding eye contact.

Cas leans his elbows on the table, closer to Dean. “And you carry yourself differently. You’ve always been confident in your body, but you don’t posture anymore. You carry yourself in a more relaxed way—like when we’re walking, and you keep one hand in your pocket and the other holding mine. You don’t puff your chest out so much, and it makes you look more natural.”

“Gayer?”

Cas laughs again. “Yes, Dean, I think when you, uh, rub my lower back and kiss my temple while we wait in line at the grocery store or something, you definitely look gayer than you did before.”

Dean reaches over and tangles their hands together, swinging them back and forth playfully on top of the table. “Can’t help it,” he says gently. “If you’re near me, I gotta touch.”

They smile shyly at each other. Cas eventually moves Dean’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. “I’m not too gay for you, am I? My mannerisms don’t bother you?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You’re fishing for a compliment.”

“So give me one.”

He scoots his chair closer to Cas’ and moves his hand under the table, spreading his fingers over one of Cas’ thick thighs and squeezing the soft muscle. “I’m fucking thrilled that you’re comfortable in your own skin, sweetheart. I love the new ways you move, and I love how you’ve made your body your own. I get distracted staring at you so much that I can’t even read one crap news article without looking at you.”

Cas takes a deep breath. A tear slips down his cheek, and he wipes it away delicately. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to hearing you say stuff like that to me. Not even in my most self-indulgent fantasies did I imagine...”

Dean laughs and tugs on Cas’ shirtsleeve, coaxing him over to him, patting his legs so Cas straddles his lap. Once they’re settled, Dean rubs soothing circles into Cas’ back fat and looks up at him reverently.

“I’ll always think you deserve better than me, but, uh,” Dean starts. “I guess if you want me instead of somebody better, then I gotta be the best version of myself. I’m sorry I wasn’t this me sooner.”

Cas presses their foreheads together. “You mean this gayer version?”

Dean laughs into a kiss. “Only took you confessing your love and dying for me to get my head out of my ass.”

Cas puts a finger to the tip of Dean’s nose. “No, actually, it took more than that. Seven months after I came back, Dean. It took you seven months.”

Dean winces. “Worth the wait?”

Cas sighs and kisses Dean’s cheek before climbing laboriously off his lap, grunting as his gut shifts. He pulls at the hem of his boxer briefs to get them down over his huge thighs; Dean pinches his butt as he walks away.

In the time it takes Cas to refill their coffee mugs, Dean’s phone rings.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean answers.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Sam asks.

As Cas comes back and hands Dean a mug, sliding his arm gently across his shoulders before making his way to his seat, Dean says, “Having breakfast with the love of my life. What do you need?”

“Eileen and I are going on a hunt, gonna take a few days. Can we drop Jack by later today?”

“What? The kid can’t stay by himself in the bunker?”

Cas flattens his lips and raises his eyebrows, silently chastising Dean. Dean throws his hand up and shrugs.

“He’s 4, Dean,” Sam says.

“He’s as powerful as God, Sam.”

Jack’s voice comes through the phone, sounding far away. “I don’t like staying here by myself. It’s lonely.”

“Of course you can stay here, kid,” Dean says loudly enough for Jack to hear. To Sam, he says, “But make sure you stop by the store on your way and pick up some food for him, because Cas and I are on a diet.”

“Seriously?” Sam asks.

“No,” Dean scoffs. “C’mon, dude. I’m sure the kid’ll be thrilled to get some real food instead of whatever rabbit food crap you and Eileen feed him.”

Cas snorts a laugh and tucks back into his stack of pancakes, pouring more syrup over them before taking a bite. Dean watches him, obsessed with the dainty way he holds his fork.

“You know, it’s gonna catch up to you one day,” Sam says. “You’ll wake up and suddenly realize you look like Cas.”

“Mm,” Dean hums, eyes still glued to Cas. “You mean I’ll be hot as shit?”

Cas winks at him.

“Yeah, I walked right into that one,” Sam mutters. “See you this afternoon.”

“Bye, Sam.” He hangs up.

“I don’t know why you goad him into judging our eating habits,” Cas says. “He asks about my weight every time I lift with him.”

“What? I’ll kill him.”

“No, it’s—”

“Where’s my gun? I’m gonna kill him.”

“Dean,” Cas says, exasperated. “He only asks because he doesn’t see me every day. You’d notice I was getting bigger, too, if you only saw me every week or so.”

Dean pouts at him, offended. “I touch you and stare at you constantly every day, of course I fucking notice. You’re big, Cas. And you take good care of yourself. Sam can mind his own fucking business.”

“I don’t need you to defend my honor to your brother, you insane man.” Cas stands and picks up their plates to take them to the sink. “And you need to limit the number of ‘fucks’ you say when Jack gets here.”

“Jesus, when did you become such a nagging wife?”

Cas turns away from the sink, sets a hand on the shelf of his belly, and says in a deadpan, “When I became pregnant with our third child.”

It’s a joke he stole from Dean, but Dean still lets out an embarrassing laugh like it’s the first time he’s heard it. He then joins Cas in the kitchen, hugging him from behind again and sneaking a hand up under his shirt so he can cup one of his pecs, teasing his thumb over his piercing. He kisses the shell of his ear as he mumbles, “I’ll clean up in here. I know you wanna go work out.”

Cas shuffles around in his arms and kisses him languidly. Even though they’ve been together for months and have shared at least a thousand kisses, a thrilling warmth washes over Dean’s body every time Cas initiates.

“What?” Cas asks gently when they break apart.

Dean kisses him again, squeezes his sides. “I just love you so much.”

Cas fights his smile and fails. He runs a hand up through Dean’s hair, which Dean is growing out, because Cas likes to touch it. “I love you so much, too.”

“C’mere.” Dean pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around his back and holding him tight, nuzzling his face in his neck while Cas fists his hands in the back of Dean’s t-shirt. “Loved you for so long. Should’ve told you sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” Cas squeezes him. “I should’ve, too.”

Dean clears his throat as they break apart. “We’ve turned into the biggest fucking saps. Go, go lift your silly weights.” He shoos Cas out of the kitchen and smacks his butt as he goes. “And hey! Don’t forget to walk your sweaty body through here on your way to the shower.”

Over his shoulder, Cas says, “Of course. I would never deprive you of that, Dean.”

When Dean finishes cleaning the kitchen, he heads to the living room where they’ve set up a workspace to help hunters out. Sure, it would be easier to do the job from the bunker, but Dean and Cas wanted their own space, a homier environment for hunters to stop by and rest. They have a room for Jack, a room for Claire and Kaia, and two extra bedrooms for anybody else who shows up—although, one of the rooms is half-full of Cas’ exercise equipment.

Dean has his eye on a rundown bar down the road, too, but not enough time has passed since they committed crimes to get a loan for their house, so he has to wait before they can buy it.

While Dean is doing research for a case that Garth is working on, Jody calls.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Dean answers, putting her on speaker.

“I’m three hours from your place,” she says, sounding tired. “Can you guys take the kid again for just, like, one week? Please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, Jody,” Dean replies, his posture straightening with excitement. “But you already knew that, because you’re already driving her over here.”

Jody laughs. “Yeah. Thanks, Dean. See you soon.”

Dean shoots a text to Sam: Raven’s gonna be here, too. ETA?

Sam texts back right away: Whenever we feel like it o’clock.

Bitch, Dean types.

Whore, Sam replies.

When Dean and Cas got together, they didn’t get the chance to tell Sam. They were on a hunt, and Sam was at the motel doing research while Dean and Cas ate dinner at a bar nearby. Cas was talking about the case and reached over and stole a fry off of Dean’s plate, and something about the gesture broke something inside of Dean. He blurted out, “I love you, too,” like a fucking idiot, causing Cas to nearly choke on the fry.

The truth was that Dean was in shock when Cas came back from the Empty, and he could not believe that this ancient unknowable being actually loved him. But then Cas was human, and ordinary, and he grew more comfortable around Dean as his body filled out. Easy warmth and affection radiated from him, like loving Dean was as natural to him as breathing.

And Dean knew that his own feelings couldn’t be buried anymore. They were clawing their way to the surface with each day that passed, until finally they burst free with an I love you, too over a stolen goddamn French fry.

They finished their meal quickly and quietly, then they walked out to the Impala together and Dean couldn’t wait a second longer than the nearly 13 years he’d already waited, so he pushed Cas up against the driver’s side door and kissed him.

“Oh,” Cas breathed between their mouths.

“What?” Dean mumbled.

“I didn’t—realize—when—”

Dean moved to kissing Cas’ softening jaw and neck so that his mouth was free to talk.

“I wasn’t sure you meant you loved me like this,” Cas explained.

Dean abruptly pulled away. “Oh. Uh, did you not—we don’t have to if you don’t want—”

Cas cut him off with a bruising kiss. “No, no, I definitely want.”

“Thank god.”

It had taken all of their willpower to get in the car and drive back to the motel, and Dean had barely put her in park before dragging Cas to the backseat and messily stripping clothes off. There wasn’t nearly enough space, so they ended up rutting against each other while making out like horny teenagers, and that’s when Sam knocked on the window.

Dean cracked it the smallest amount, his body still tangled with Cas. “We’re a little busy here, Sammy.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m gonna get another room so you guys don’t have to do...this...out here.”

“Sammy, you’re the best brother in the world,” Dean said stupidly as he and Cas struggled out of the backseat, holding their clothes half-on, shirts and overshirts and jackets in hand and jeans unbuttoned. Dean dragged Cas by the hand up to their room.

And so Sam (homophobically, in Dean’s opinion) started calling Dean “whore” instead of “jerk.”

Dean is typing on his laptop when Cas clears his throat from the hall. Dean looks up immediately, raking his eyes up and down Cas’ glistening, swollen body as he walks shirtless toward their bedroom.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, come back here,” Dean says, scrambling to get up, tripping over his own feet, then finally making it to Cas so he can squeeze his biceps and press kisses to his sweaty shoulder.

Dean moves his mouth down Cas’ collarbone and chest, hunching his body so he can get a better angle as he works his tongue around a nipple ring.

Cas cards a hand through Dean's hair. “Do you want to shower with me?” he asks patiently.

Dean reluctantly lets go of his nipple and straightens up. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

Their shower is just big enough for both of them, but it’s too difficult to do much more than wash each other’s bodies. They talk loudly to each other over the spray, which is why neither of them hear the front door open and Sam and Eileen announce their arrival.

Dean walks out to the kitchen wearing a towel around his waist and one around his hair. Sam and Eileen are making sandwiches while Jack sits on a barstool at the island reading a book.

“Oh, hey, guys,” Dean says. He grabs a La Croix out of the fridge and takes a long drink. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Cas comes in next, wearing just boxer briefs, his wet hair dripping water onto his body. He greets everyone then puts a hand on the small of Dean’s back and kisses his cheek. He takes the La Croix right out of his hand and drinks it before giving it back.

“Cas, are your nipples pierced?” Eileen asks, shocked.

“Oh, yeah,” Cas says flippantly. He pats the tattoo of Dean’s name on his shoulder. “Dean talked me into it when I got this.”

Dean mutters, “Not like you needed much convincing.”

“So are you guys gonna bother putting clothes on, or…?” Sam asks bitchily.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for existing in my own house,” Dean teases. He settles against Cas’ side; Cas wraps his arm around his hip. “Maybe if somebody had told us when they would be here, we could’ve been ready.”

“Yeah, well, we were anxious to get here,” Sam says, looking pointedly at Eileen. “We have some news.”

“Uh-oh, this sounds like something I should be wearing clothes for,” Dean says.

“I’m pregnant,” Eileen says and signs. She makes a face like she’s sorry about it.

Cas sucks in a sharp breath. Dean’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, uh.” Sam sighs and throws a hand up. “We’re not totally sure how we feel about it, you know, never really planned on…”

“We don’t want to stop hunting,” Eileen finishes for him. “But if there’s a good reason to stop, this is it.”

“We can help,” Dean says quickly. He nervously sets his water down on the counter so he can sign and talk. “You know we’re always willing to take care of a kid. Especially a baby.” He looks over at Jack. “No offense, Jack.”

“I told them I would help, too,” Jack says cheerfully. “I would love a little brother or sister. And I can heal most injuries other than death, so if they keep hunting while Eileen is pregnant, it’ll be OK.”

“We’ll be here every step of the way,” Cas adds. “Whatever you need.”

“Yeah,” Sam says solemnly. “We know it’ll be OK, we’re just...I don’t know, I’m just not naturally maternal like you, Dean.”

“Come here, Sammy,” Dean says, walking away from Cas and putting his hand up on Sam’s shoulder to bring him down for a hug. “You’re already a great dad. You’re not gonna fuck the kid up, I promise.”

Sam laughs and squeezes Dean once before letting go. He frowns down at Dean’s bare torso and says, “OK, go get some clothes on, please.” Under his breath, he mutters, “I don’t understand how you and Cas even fit in a shower together.”

“Hey.” Dean points a menacing finger at him. “If you don’t lay off my boyfriend, he’s gonna use his massively buff arms to kick your ass.”

“No, I’m not,” Cas says in a monotone, flipping his wrist to blow Dean off. He kisses Eileen on the cheek as he leaves the kitchen.

“What? I’m not—I don’t care what Cas looks like,” Sam says. He opens the fridge and gestures dramatically to it. “I just think it would be good every now and then if you guys ate, like, one vegetable.” He looks Dean up and down. “Also the fact that Cas works out and you don’t, you look like a skinny little beanpole next to him. He makes you look ridiculous.”

Dean crosses his arms and pouts. “He likes how I look. Says it makes him feel big and strong when he picks me up.”

Sam and Eileen both laugh. Eileen asks, “He picks you up? What, like during sex?”

Dean blushes. He halfheartedly says and signs, “No, I mean, like, when I fall asleep on the couch and he carries me to our bed.”

Sam and Eileen laugh harder.

“I think it’s sweet,” Jack interjects. “I would never laugh at your relationship with Cas, Dean. You two love each other very much.”

Eileen rolls her eyes. “Yeah, perfect little angel over here has never said a mean word about anybody in his life. We get it, Jack, you’re better than us.”

Jack straightens his back and smiles, proud of himself. Dean passes by him on his way out of the kitchen and squeezes his shoulder in thanks.

“A baby, huh?” Dean asks excitedly as he rummages through his and Cas’ closet for some clothes. “We should plan on staying in the bunker with them for the first few months, you know, help them out and stuff.”

Cas scoffs from the master bath. “You just want to hold a newborn.”

“Yeah, so what?” Dean joins him in the bathroom, taking his towels off his head and waist and hanging them back up on the racks. He takes a piss while Cas stands at the sink messing with his hair.

Cas is wearing a pair of black joggers and a faded pink tank top, a denim overshirt sitting on the counter. A long chain rests against his chest between his big pecs, three rings hanging from them. Two of the rings are Dean’s old ones, and the third is a new one Dean picked out for him when they moved into their house together.

Dean checks his hip against Cas’, nudging him out of the way so he can wash his hands at the sink.

“Does it bother you that we can’t just accidentally have children?” Cas asks, turning toward Dean seriously, unaffected by his naked body.

“What? No,” Dean answers. “Why, does it bother you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Dean grabs deodorant and pushes Cas’ arm up so he can apply it for him. “We got plenty of kids, honey.” He does the other arm. “And we’re old. I don’t need us to be the sole provider of a child for the next 18 years.” He picks up the denim shirt and helps Cas put it on.

Cas places a gentle hand on Dean’s bare hip and rubs his thumb in circles against his skin. “I just think...I think about how perfect Jack is, and how if I was still an angel and could’ve borrowed a female vessel for a while, then maybe we could’ve…”

“Jesus Christ, Cas.” He pats the slope of his belly. “OK, no more jokes about you being pregnant. It’s fucking with your head.”

“Mm, yeah.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Dean’s mouth. “Now be honest with me, does this shirt make me look fat?”

Dean laughs as Cas expands his big stomach out and pulls at the fabric of the tank top to make it tight.

“You look perfect, sweetheart.” Dean jiggles his belly. “Fat and very gay.”

“Thank you.”

Dean puts on his usual jeans and flannel over a plain black t-shirt. He also has a necklace with a ring Cas gave him, but he wears it under his clothes and out of sight. He likes feeling it against his skin.

They eat a quick lunch with everybody before Sam and Eileen head out for their hunt. Cas and Jack go in the backyard to tend to Cas’ garden, which is full of beautiful flowers and absolutely no vegetables.

Jody shows up right when she said she would, and she passes Raven off to Dean before she’s even stepped in the door.

“I’m gonna spend the night here if you don’t mind,” Jody announces as she kicks her boots off.

Dean is cooing at the baby and tickling her belly with one finger. Right now she has dark olive skin and a head full of black hair and big gray eyes, but that could change any minute. Jody got her just a few months ago when she was trying to help her mom, a teenage shapeshifter, but the girl had a lot of complications and died during childbirth. She asked Jody to name the baby Raven after Mystique from X-Men.

Jody, claiming that she’s too old to raise a baby on her own, brings Raven over to Dean and Cas’ for at least one week per month.

“Dean?” Jody presses.

“Hmm?”

“I said I’m gonna stay here tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.” He kisses the baby’s head. “Cas and Jack are outside. Make yourself at home.”

Under her breath, Jody says, “Give a baby to Dean Winchester if you want him not to pay attention to you at all.” She walks to the kitchen and puts on a teapot.

Cas barges in the back door and makes a beeline for Dean, his hands outstretched. “Baby,” he commands.

Dean frowns but hands Cas the baby anyway. He knows if he tries to hog her, he and Cas will have a petty fight about it later.

“Yeah, good to see you, too, Cas,” Jody says, still talking in a dejected tone, grabbing mugs out of the cabinet. “You look good, you been working out? Of course you have, look at you. Yeah, I know, I look good, too. New haircut. Thanks.”

“Hello, Jody,” Cas greets, turning toward her but keeping his eyes on the baby cradled in his arms. She looks impossibly small in his hold. “Your hair looks very nice.”

“Well, thank you, Cas,” Jody says smugly. “Would you like some tea?”

“Are you offering us tea in our own house?” Dean asks.

“You told me to make myself at home.”

Cas moves Raven up to his shoulder, spreading his long, thin fingers over her back to keep her in place with just one hand. With his other hand, he pulls out a barstool at the island and takes a seat. His tank top gets stuck between his underbelly and his lap, and Dean watches, transfixed, as Cas demurely lifts his butt off the chair and flicks his free hand against his shirt to unstick it.

“Dean? You OK?” Jody asks, amused.

“Hmm?” Dean whips his head toward her. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You looked a little lost there for a second, buddy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m very obsessed with Cas.”

Jody laughs. “It’s impossible to even make fun of you anymore. Like, if you’re going to be blissfully happy, at least act a little embarrassed about it.”

Dean walks over to Cas and puts his arm across his middle, presses his cheek firmly against the side of Cas’ chubby face and looks at Jody as he says, “No.”

“Jody, I would love a cup of tea,” Cas says, ignoring Dean. “Thank you.”

Raven fusses and nuzzles against Cas’ shoulder, so Dean reaches his arms out for her and says, “Too much muscle in your shoulder, she can’t get comfy.”

As Cas hands the baby over, he says, “Yes, because your bony body is so much better.”

“Do you guys even like each other?” Jody interrupts.

“No,” Dean and Cas answer in unison. They then look at each other and smile.

Cas asks Jody about the girls, which gets her on a long-winded rant, so Dean kisses Cas’ hair and heads out the back door with Raven. He walks across the porch and takes a seat on the porch swing and watches as Jack stands in front of a flower, says something to it, then moves onto the next flower and says something else.

“Are you talking to every flower, kid?” Dean calls.

Jack turns and tilts his head with a gentle smile. “I didn’t hear you come out here, Dean. Yes, I’m giving each of them longer lifespans.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

It’s mesmerizing, swinging back and forth and watching Jack tend to the flowers. Raven falls asleep quickly, tucked up facedown against Dean’s chest with her head turned to the side.

“See, I’m plenty easy enough to fall asleep on,” he mutters to her.

Jody comes outside a few minutes later, tea in hand. Dean scoots over so she has room to sit next to him on the swing. She doesn’t say anything, just takes a seat and drops her head to his shoulder.

“You know we can keep the kid longer if you need us to,” he says. “Cas has baby fever, so I’m sure he’d be thrilled.”

“Hm. I might,” Jody considers. “Alex is really attached to her though. I am, too, but. I don’t know. It’s different for me.”

“You never thought about having a baby again in your life, did you?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Cas walks out next and stops right outside the door, staring straight ahead at Jack. Cas has both his wrists bent against his hips, hands palm out, straight-back posture making his gut look more pronounced than it already is.

“Hey, Jody,” Dean starts, his eyes on Cas.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Cas is different? I mean, different than how he was as an angel.”

Jody snorts. “Um. That Cas looks like he would eat angel Cas for breakfast.”

“No, I don’t mean—” Now Dean is laughing, too. “Obviously he looks different. I mean, like, the way he’s standing right now. Don’t you think it looks a little…you know…”

“Gay?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, yeah, but only slightly gayer than he used to act.”

Dean balks at that. “What? Really?”

“Honey, I knew Cas was gay the second time I met him. Sure, he’s definitely more comfortable and open and maybe a little more, uh, effeminate now, but he’s always been pretty clearly gay. No offense, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Hm. Well, I’m paying attention now. Very close attention.” He surreptitiously licks his lips.

After a pause, Jody asks, “How did you live so many years of your life unaware of how horny you are for him?”

Dean puffs out a breath. “Shit, I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Like, I have a sleeping baby on me right now—one of my favorite things in the world—and yet it’s taking all of my willpower to keep sitting here with you instead of going to put my stupid hands all over him.”

Cas turns toward them then, offering a close-mouthed smile and a delicate wave of his hand, totally oblivious. “Jack is talking to the flowers,” he says loudly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says back, less loudly so as not to wake the baby. “Powerful as God, and he’s here talking to our fucking plants.”

Cas furrows his brow. “What did I say about cursing?”

Dean rolls his eyes.

They all hang out outside until Raven wakes up and cries for food, so Dean takes her inside and paces around the kitchen while he gives her a bottle. Cas walks through on his way to the bathroom, and Dean stops him with a, “Hey. C’mere.”

“What?” Cas asks, smiling as he closes the distance between them.

Dean leans to the side, keeping the baby steady as he kisses Cas on the lips.

Cas shakes his head when they pull apart. “You have zero impulse control.”

“See Cas, touch Cas. That’s how my brain works.”

His smile widens. “You’re lucky I’m patient.”

Later, Dean is in charge of getting Raven down for the night, Jody is taking a nap upstairs, and Jack and Cas are out picking up takeout for dinner.

The four of them eat at the kitchen table, and Dean inhales his food quickly so he can relax and sling an arm over the back of Cas’ chair while everyone else finishes. He rubs and scratches at Cas’ back while they all talk, occasionally looking over to watch Cas eat. With how muscular he is, Cas would have to have a high-calorie diet even if he didn’t also just love food, but still he eats slowly and properly as he demolishes at least twice as much as everybody else.

Dean, itching to move and sick of being in the same spot for too long, eventually leans over and nips and kisses at Cas’ neck and face, forcing him to eat even slower. Every so often, Cas turns and pecks Dean on the lips in acknowledgment of his ministrations.

“Dean, you look smaller every time I come over here,” Jody says.

“No, optical illusion. It's 'cause Cas is getting bigger,” Dean responds. He pats a loving hand against Cas’ full belly. “He can’t help that he looks extremely cute like this.”

Mouth full of food, Cas turns his head and kisses Dean’s temple in thanks.

“No, I definitely think you’ve lost weight,” Jody continues.

“Yeah, I think you have,” Cas says. “Not that you weren’t skinny before, but you’ve lost weight since you stopped drinking.”

“Mm. Yeah, I guess.” Dean puts a hand on his own stomach, noting how flat it is. He ignores the heat rising to his cheeks at the basic knowledge that Cas notices things about him.

After dinner, Jack asks if they can watch a movie together in the living room, which they of course oblige. Dean can count on zero hands the amount of times he and Cas have told Jack “no” when he’s at their house.

Cas privately asks Jody if she wants a glass of wine, which she turns down. Dean sees the conversation take place as he’s turning the TV on due to his inability to take his eyes off Cas for even one minute.

Jack, god help him, picks some tragic foreign language film and sits cross-legged on the couch with Jody. Cas and Dean settle in sideways on the loveseat, Cas’ back up against the armrest and one leg hanging off the side so Dean can sit between his thighs and rest back against his chest. Dean rubs his fingertips against Cas’ knee and listens to him unwrap candy after candy, occasionally offering one to Dean.

After about 15 minutes, Dean turns his head and cocks an eyebrow at Cas.

Cas looks back at him, confused, as he puts another candy in his mouth. “What?” he whispers.

“You’ve had, like, 20 of those.”

Cas’ face changes into gay bitchiness as he unwraps another one. “Now who’s the nagging wife?”

“Can you two can it?” Jody asks at a regular volume. “I’m trying to hear what these sad French people are saying.”

Dean ignores her and whispers to Cas, “I don’t give a shit about you stuffing your face, babe, I just wish your hands were more Dean-focused.”

“Oh. Of course, Dean.” Cas tosses a wrapper aside and puts his arms around Dean’s torso, squeezing him firmly back against him.

“Mm, that’s better.” Dean snuggles down and bends his arm up to feel Cas’ bicep.

Jody shushes them again.

Cas presses a chocolatey kiss to the bolt of Dean’s jaw and moves one hand across his waist, teasing with the waistband of his jeans. Dean grabs his hand, stopping him.

“Not in front of the kid, dude,” Dean says through gritted teeth.

“I’m not doing anything,” Cas says innocently, his lips still on Dean’s skin.

Jack pauses the movie and looks over at them with a smile. In a sweet, polite tone, he asks, “I don’t mean to be rude, but can you guys please shut the fuck up?”

Cas nudges his head against Dean’s in fake annoyance. “What did I tell you? What did I fucking tell you, Dean?”

Dean can’t stop laughing. “Yes, Jack, we’ll shut the fuck up.”

With nobody to talk to and with Cas carding his perfect fingers through his hair, Dean falls asleep within 10 minutes. He half-wakes up a little while later and finds himself curled up on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest, using his big boyfriend as a bed, his big arms a blanket, big pecs a pillow. Cas’ chest vibrates beneath his ear as he whispers something to Jody, but Dean doesn’t hear it. He balls his hand into a fist and nuzzles his face against Cas’ shirt like a baby and falls back asleep.

When he wakes up again, it’s because Cas is trying to carefully lift him up and take him to bed. He wraps both arms around Cas’ neck and his legs around his waist and hangs on tight as Cas stands, only one of his muscular arms wrapped around Dean’s butt to hold him in place.

“Wow, he really has you whipped,” Jody whispers to Cas.

Cas responds completely seriously, “Why else would I exercise so much if not for this?”

“G’night, Jody,” Dean mutters against Cas’ neck.

“Night, little baby Dean.”

Dean smiles, his eyes still closed. “I like that.”

Jody sighs. “Seriously. Impossible to make fun of him.”

Cas starts walking toward their room as he says, “Dean is an all or nothing person. So many years with so much shame, now he has absolutely none.”

“Hmm. Yeah,” Jody replies. “Night, Cas.”

Dean is fully awake by the time Cas lays him gently down on the bed. He gets up immediately, changes into pajamas and goes to the master bath to brush his teeth. Cas joins him at the sink, wearing just boxer briefs and one of Dean’s shirts. It barely covers his belly button.

“You can’t possibly be comfortable in that,” Dean mumbles with a mouth full of foamy toothpaste. “I don’t get why you’re still wearing my shirts to bed. I told you, you stretch them out and then I can’t wear them.”

Cas spits his own toothpaste into the sink and looks up at Dean through the mirror as he wipes his mouth. “Until the sleeves cut off circulation in my arms, I will keep wearing your shirts to bed.”

Dean pulls at the hem of one of the sleeves, pointing out where Cas snipped it with scissors. “Cheater.”

Once they’re in bed, Dean presses up against Cas’ side, throws one leg over him, buries his face in the crook of his neck, squeezes his butt.

“Finally,” Dean says against his skin. “I’ve been dying to touch you all day.”

Cas smiles and wraps an arm around Dean’s back, shoving his hand down his pants to grab his ass. “Yes, and you showed remarkable restraint by not touching me at all today.”

“C’mon, you know what I mean.”

Cas hums, thinking. “You don’t like having your attention divided. If you can’t focus fully on me, it feels like you’re being deprived of something.”

“Yeah.” Dean rolls completely on top of Cas and kisses the pocket of fat under his chin. “Don’t let it go to your head, though. It’s not like I’m, like, completely obsessed with you or something crazy like that.”

Cas smiles into a kiss, putting his hand to the side of Dean’s face to pull him down to his lips. Dean groans in the back of his throat and rolls his hips.

“Do you want to have sex?” Cas asks between their mouths, like he almost always does, because he has a take-it-or-leave-it attitude about sex and is perfectly content with any amount of physical contact with Dean, no matter how little. So he leaves it up to Dean: a person who needs to touch Cas so badly all the time that he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t.

“No, not with us on baby duty,” Dean says. “Let’s just make out until I fall asleep.”

“Mm, that’s exactly what I fell from grace for.”

Dean laughs and pinches his shoulder, kisses the corner of his mouth. “Hey, you knew me when you fell. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

Cas’ face softens. He rubs the pad of his thumb slowly across Dean’s cheek. “I did. I was willing to give up everything without ever even knowing what your lips feel like against mine. So, excuse me for thinking every second with you now is just icing on the cake.”

Dean blinks. “You’re getting better at food metaphors now that you eat so much.”

Cas allows him to trivialize the moment. He just simply smiles up at him as he wipes a tear from Dean’s face.

So Dean closes his eyes and kisses him, slowly, until he falls asleep.

-----

Dean wakes up to the sound of Raven crying over the baby monitor. She only cried once during the night, when she shapeshifted into a fat pale baby with brown eyes and thin hair and needed a bottle and a change before going back to sleep. Now it’s morning, and Dean blinks awake to the sunlight streaming onto his face. He’s on his stomach, arms wrapped around a pillow under his head, his skin unreasonably warm.

He shifts and feels Cas’ heavy arm draped across his back, his chubby hip squished against his side. Dean shuffles and turns, picking Cas’ arm up and kissing his hand before setting it on the bed and standing up.

Cas is also facedown on the bed, but instead of getting up, he burrows deeper and mumbles sleepily, “Start the coffee, please.”

Dean pinches a sliver of his love handle and leans down to kiss his cheek. “I’ll bring you a cup. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

Cas snores softly in response.

It’s early. The house is dimly lit and quiet, and Dean takes his time changing and feeding Raven. When she’s done with her bottle, he puts her on his hip and carries her out to the back porch to listen to the birds. His phone rings.

“Yeah?” Dean answers.

“Hey,” Sam says. “So, uh.”

“Spit it out, Sam.”

“You know our new rule?”

“Not monsters until they act monstrous,” Dean says, his heart racing. “What happened?”

“Nothing too bad. It’s just that, uh, we think this pack of werewolves may have abandoned their, uh, young.”

“How old? How many?” Dean asks quickly.

“Twins. They’re small, Dean. Six months at most.”

Dean looks at Raven then at the garden in front of him. He thinks about Cas, about how wonderful of a father he is, about what he said yesterday. Then he says, “Well. Bring ‘em here if there’s no other option. We got the space.”

#destiel #chubby cas #15x18 #destiel fic #tf #my fics #my canon fics #i know i've changed some characterizations here but uh that's kinda the point of the fic #to demonstrate the changes in dean and cas were they to live their gay life together without shame!#anyway this is maybe my favorite thing i've ever written so um #please enjoy or i'll die

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bijoharvelle · 4 years ago

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a coda of sorts for 15.18 Despair. MAJOR HUGE SPOILERS for the episode so please proceed with caution if you haven’t watched yet (has anyone not watched yet??) angst with a hopeful ending.

Here’s what doesn’t happen: Cas smiles and laughs through his tears and says, “You changed me, Dean.”

There’s a beat of uncertainty but through it, Dean steps forward. He walks towards Cas. This is an angel of the Lord who followed him from Hell, who came when he called and betrayed his trust and earned it back. An angel who gave up an army, a Host, his Grace, the favor of his brothers and sisters, all for Dean. So Dean steps forward and hesitantly puts a hand to Cas’s waist. “Why does this sound like a goodbye?” he asks.

“Because it is.” Cas voice shakes and shatters and he leans into Dean’s touch. He presses one hand, palm bloody, to Dean’s shoulder and cups it there. “I love you,” he says, and it’s sure and strong. They’re called love confessions but this feels more like an absolution, like a benediction.

Dean can feel the press of Cas’s hand as he tries to push him away, out of the way, because there’s a teeming wall of void that’s opened behind them but Dean holds his ground.

They meet in the middle, Dean holding Cas at his waist and the collar of his trench coat and kissing him like he needs it to breath. He can feel the shudder-shock of Cas’s breath in the kiss, shaky inhale to clipped exhale. There are tears on Cas’s cheeks pressing into his own and Dean, stupidly, thinks, I’ve never seen him cry. He’s seen Cas’s blue eyes go glassy and red, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen them spill over.

One of his hands moves to cradle the back of Cas’s head, fingers in that fucking hair of his and when Cas breaks the kiss, Dean holds him there, keeps him close. Their noses bump, foreheads brush, and Dean doesn’t know if he’s crying or if it’s just Cas’s tears on his face. “Don’t do this, Cas,” he says and it’s begging. I’m not one for praying because in my books it’s the same as begging. “Please. Castiel.”

Before he knows what’s happening, cold air rushes to fill the space that was once Cas. Dean sees just the edges of the Empty’s tendrils, black and shimmering and all-consuming. He turns on the balls of his feet just in time to watch the rift against the wall close up.

Here’s what doesn’t happen: Cas tells him that it is a goodbye and Dean shakes his head, hard. “No,” he counters, “No. This isn’t happening.” And he puts himself in Cas’s space, curves his hand around the back of his neck. He holds him there and meets his eyes, like he had with Jack, just a few months ago. “You’re family, Cas. We don’t give up on family, even if looks like there’s nothing left.”

“Dean--”

But Dean rushes to cut him off. “I love you,” he says and he can feel his cheeks getting hot, his throat thickening. “Okay? Cas. I love you. And I need you here. Cas, please.”

Cas smiles, beatific, and Dean can’t help but think that he’s beautiful, incandescent. An angel of the Lord, here with him. “I love you too, Dean,” he says and he’s smiling, the tone in his voice is almost laughter. “Please remember that. I’ve loved you, all this time.” He presses his hand to Dean’s shoulder and Dean remembers, for a brief moment, Hell. He remembers Cas reaching down and pulling him out.

When the Empty reaches out, when it takes Cas, Dean isn’t ready. He screams and dives for the eddying mass of nothing but you can’t put your hands on something that isn’t. The wall closes back to its industrial brick and Dean is alone, pounding until his knuckles split.

Here’s what happens: Sam is feral with worry as they make the near eight-hour drive back to the bunker. Jack has his phone, calling everyone Sam can think of between trying Dean and Cas over and over again. Dean’s phone keeps ringing out to his voicemail. The calls to Cas drop as soon as they get placed.

The car is still running, thrown into park at an angle up against the bunker’s entrance and once they’re inside, both Jack and Sam are screaming for Dean and Cas. Sam is sure that he’s going to find Dean’s phone on the floor, shattered, with all those messages and calls collecting, just like Eileen’s. He doesn’t know what to expect of Cas.

He and Jack end up skittering into the basement together, trailing a ragged, scorched scratch-mark on the wall. And then, they find him.

“Dean!” Sam shouts and slides to his knees. He takes his brother’s face in his hands and makes him meet his eyes. Dean’s chest is working, eyes wet and red and Sam’s heart sputters. “What the hell happened, man?” He handles Dean gently because he thinks he has an idea. Thumbs come up, to brush away the tears, like Dean always did for him when they were kids, when they weren’t kids.

“Cas is gone,” Dean gasps out. “He’s gone, he’s really gone.” And he pitches forward, shaking. His fingers bite into Sam’s shoulders so hard he’s sure there will be bruises and all Sam can do is cradle his brother to his chest.

Jack drops to the floor, burying his face into Dean’s shoulder and letting out his own grief. Through it all, Sam sits and holds his brother, puts his hand to the back of their kid’s head and tries to keep them all together.

It takes awhile. He has to coax Dean to his feet and then up into the kitchen - his brother looks like a man possessed, like a ghost, like a ghoul, like something already dead. Jack follows him like a lost duckling, trailing behind Sam as he settles Dean at the table and then makes coffee because it’s something he knows how to do.

“Dean,” he says softly, once they’re all sitting together with steaming mugs. “You gotta tell us what happened.” And he knows, he understands. He remembers just yesterday - God, was it only yesterday - how it felt to know that if you say it, if you acknowledge it, your whole world will fall apart and you’ll be useless. I can’t go there. But they need to know, so they can make a plan.

It comes out in halting spirals, in between whining breaths and deep shudders. More than once, Dean trails toward guilt, toward shame, toward I should have done something, why didn’t I do anything. Sam redirects him as firmly as he can manage.

He’s known about Cas’s feelings for years - in fact, he’s pretty sure Cas had only just discovered it himself when he came to Sam. They didn’t talk about it often but when they did, Cas was gingerly ecstatic at just being near Dean, just sharing space with him. He would have been content to follow Dean through the rest of his life without having said a word.

When Dean finishes, tells them that the Empty took Cas and Billie disappeared, he folds his arms on the table and buries his head. Jack, sitting next to him, puts a hand to his arm and fits his face into Dean’s shoulder. Sam watches as, slowly, Dean shifts one hand to cover Jack’s.

Sam lets them have a moment, let’s them mourn and revel in the mourning, but then he dips his head and says, “Dean, this is good.”

His brother picks his head up so fast he almost brains Jack.

“It’s the Empty,” Sam rushes to explain. “We know how it works. We know what it wants. We know exactly where Cas is and how to get there.”

Dean blinks through new tears tessellating his lashes. “You... You mean get him back?” His voice is shot to hell and it breaks when he says him, like he was going to say Cas’s name. But for the first time since they split up last night, Sam thinks he sees something like hope blossom over Dean.

“I mean get him back.”

Dean didn’t tell Sam, word for word, what Cas said but Sam has always known that his brother operates from love. He was the kid, after all, who Dean raised. Dean wiped his tears and kissed his skinned knees and proofread his essays and taught him about cars and girls and drinking and their father. Sam is alive and the person he is today because of Dean’s love.

So it’s tragic and terrible and it hurts. He hurts for his brother and Jack, he hurts for Cas and Eileen and Donna and everyone else, but he’s also, suddenly, alive with the gift that Chuck and the Empty have given them.

Sam watches as Dean realizes it in degrees. He straightens his shoulders back and wipes a hand down his face. He looks to Jack and, so tenderly, reaches out to clear away his tears too. And then, Sam watches as his brother smiles. “Hell yes, we’re gonna get him back.” Dean watches Jack until the kid tries for a smile and then he turns to Sam and he sees there’s a smile already there.

The thing that Chuck doesn’t understand, that the Empty can’t understand, is everything the Winchesters have ever done, has been family. And it’s been for love. So taking these cosmic entities out with love as the power chord running under their mission...

Well, let’s just say they’ve got work to do.

@prayedtoyou • @folklorecastiel • @good-things-do-happen-dean • @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you • @nesnej • @bianca29753 • @spaceshipkat • @madronasky • @dizzypinwheel • @kayrosebee • @feraladoration • @destielangst • @destiel-is--real • @brazencas • @destielle • @flowersforcas • @50shadesofsubtext • @multifandomagic • @fluffiestlou • @geo-val • @menjiiii • @top13zepptraxx • @lanaserra • @eccentriccas • @trasherasswood • @angelresort • @starlightcastiel • @dreamnovak • @jazzbabythatsme • @lyndalynn • @organicpurplepants • @cursed-or-not • @contemplativepancakes • @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner • @galaxymysteryelephant • @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover • @one-more-offbeat-anthem • @keata-kaylee • @redsconfusion • @bennedict • @mishha • @smushedmuffins • @galaxycastiel

#spncreatorsdaily #destiel #deancas #deancas ficlet #destiel ficlet #deancas fanfic #destiel fanfic #spn fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #jack kline #spn spoilers #my stuff #1518 despair #spn s15

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haus-seeblick · 3 years ago

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Suptober Day 3: Rainbows

Title: We’ve Got Your Back, Jack

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,660

Tags: Mild (brief) Angst, Dean Winchester and Castiel are parents, De-aged Jack Kline (he did it to himself), Jack Kline is twelve, Fingernail painting as therapy, Claire is an excellent big sister, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence from 15x18 (twelve years later), Jack has a guinea pig named Nougat

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Claire Novak/Kaia Nieves, Background Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy

On AO3 Here

When Jack is teased at school for wearing his favorite rainbow jacket, his family comes together to help build him back up.

“Sunshine, you gotta calm down.” He moves to stand behind Cas where he’s sitting at the kitchen table and squeezes his shoulders reassuringly. There’s hardly any give; Cas is a single ball of tension.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean sets a steaming mug of tea in front of Cas, who glares at it with such intensity that Dean’s surprised it doesn’t shatter on the spot.

“I can’t calm down,” Cas growls. “He was bullied. The sweetest boy in the world, and they made him feel small. How are you calm, Dean?”

Dean sighs and pulls up a chair. “He seemed fine, Cas. I mean, he is God. He was already talking about changes he wants to make once he comes back into power.”

Cas grips his mug and takes an abrupt, angry sip. “I wish he could make them now.”

“Me too, buddy. But he’s learning. Every shitty person he deals with, he learns something. That’s why he’s doing this whole human thing, remember?”

The kitchen’s quiet for a moment while Cas contemplates. He cups his hand over the tea, steam escaping between his fingers in lazy tendrils. “It’s just my instinct to shield him from cruelty.”

Dean nods. He scoots closer, sliding an arm around Cas’ warm, solid waist. “I know.”

Some of the rigidity in Cas’ posture softens and he leans into Dean’s side. Dean presses a kiss to his temple.

“What can we do?” Cas asks quietly. “For now. I want him to feel happy at school.”

Dean hums thoughtfully. “Not sure. The school already talked to the other kid's parents, so that part’s taken care of, and Jack said it was just the one boy. I think we just gotta be there for him. Remind him he’s awesome.”

“I just want to wear my rainbow coat.”

Dean and Cas turn around to see Jack standing in the doorway, rubbing his eye. He’s wearing the bee-patterned pajamas Cas got him for his twelfth birthday in the spring, and is cradling his guinea pig, Nougat, in one arm.

Cas immediately stands up and beckons Jack over. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Jack shakes his head, as earnest and deliberate as he does everything. He pads across the kitchen and hands Nougat to Dean before sitting down in Cas’ empty chair. It took Dean a while to get used to the guinea pig, to her sharp nails and shrill squeaks, but now he likes having her warm little body against his chest.

Cas flips the kettle back on to make Jack a cup of tea, too. “Did that boy’s teasing start with your coat?”

Jack plays with the strings on his pajama pants and nods. “I don’t understand. When he said those mean things and laughed, he felt—” Jack pauses, blinking thoughtfully at the ceiling. “He felt afraid, like he was cornered. Defensive.”

“His emotions must have been strong for you to sense them,” Cas says gently, pouring the steaming water into Jack’s favorite mug, a blue one with a big sun on the side. Dean slowly strokes a finger over Nougat’s soft brown head. His chest feels tight.

“Yes, they were. I feel bad that he’s scared,” Jack continues. “And I’m going to work on helping people like that when Amara gives me my powers again. But I also just want to wear my coat.”

He’s twelve, Dean thinks. He’s God, and he’s twelve.

“You’re gonna wear your coat, kiddo,” he says, bumping Jack’s foot with his own. “That other kid, it sucks that he’s hearing shitty stuff at home. And it’s not your fault that he took it out on you. Trust me. If you wanna go to school decked out in rainbows, we’ve got your back.”

Cas nods and crouches down next to Jack, handing him his mug. “Dean is right. Our priority is helping you be yourself and be happy during your time as a human.”

Jack shuffles his feet a little. He cups his hand over the mug just as Cas had done. “Um, in that case, can I ask something?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says.

“Well, my friend Mallary likes painting her nails. They look so cool. But she said boys don’t usually do that.”

“And you’d like to,” Cas prompts. His eyes meet Dean’s for a moment.

Jack nods. “Rainbow.”

Dean stands up, cradling Nougat snug against his chest as the guinea pig emits a startled squeak. “Well, then, you’re gonna have rainbow nails. I know just who to call.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire sweeps into the house the next morning — Sunday — in a whirlwind of hair and shopping bags. Even though they heard her coming all the way up the driveway, swearing and dropping things, it’s always a shock when she bursts through the door. Kaia follows quietly, with a fondly exasperated smile on her face. She rolls her eyes at Dean and he stifles a laugh.

Claire stomps into the living room and dumps her mountain of bags onto the couch. “Hi, old men. Where’s my brother?”

“Hello, Claire,” Cas says, lips quirking. “I see you’ve come quite prepared.” He’s leaning in the doorway to the living room, arms crossed, an old t-shirt of Dean’s stretched over his broad shoulders. From his perch on the couch, Dean lets his eyes roam appreciatively; Cas has been ageing ever since he returned from the Empty a human, and the years look good on him. He even has a bit of silver in his wild hair. Twelve years together, and Dean still can't believe his luck.

“Yeah, well, Dean calls me saying my baby bro needs a confidence boost, I’m gonna go all out.” Claire starts emptying the bags onto the coffee table. “I brought every color I could find.”

As if on cue, Jack appears in the doorway next to Cas. His hair is still rumpled from sleep but his eyes are shining, taking in the rows of nail polish that Claire is lining up on the table.

“Wow, is that all for me?” He practically bounces into the room and sits cross-legged on the floor, picking up a blue bottle.

Claire ruffles his hair, disheveling it even more, and sits down next to him. “Hell yeah. And for your dads, too.”

Dean blinks. “Uh— you want us to— yeah, that idea was for Jack, actually.”

This time it’s Kaia’s turn to stifle a laugh, and Dean shoots her a dirty look. Cas chuckles and pushes off the doorframe to join Dean on the couch. He takes Dean’s hand in his own and lifts it up, lightly stroking one finger at a time as he looks at the short, blunt nails. Dean may work hard at the garage, but he’s hygienic and doesn’t bring any grease home, under his nails or otherwise.

Now, he blushes a little as Cas brushes a kiss onto his knuckles. “Dean will look beautiful. Just like Jack.”

Jack whoops and shoots Dean a dazzling smile. Dean can’t really say no to that face.

It’s decided that Kaia will paint Jack’s nails rainbow, a different color on each nail (Jack insists that some should have polka dots, too), and that Claire will do Cas’ and Dean’s. Dean tries to ask for just black, like Baby, but gets shouted down by everyone in the room and grudgingly agrees to a dark green. When Claire is done wiping down his nails and applies the first brush of color to his thumb, he has to admit it looks nice.

Jack keeps exclaiming in delight every time Kaia starts on a new color, and nearly loses it when she reveals that she got some tiny glittery stars to sprinkle on the drying polish.

“It looks like a galaxy,” he breathes, eyes wide, moving his fingers gingerly in the light from the window. Dean glances at Cas, who’s getting his nails painted a holographic blue, and is surprised to see a bright sheen in Cas’ eyes as he watches Jack. He’s smiling softly. Dean reaches over (careful of his own drying nails) and lays a hand on his shoulder. Together they watch their kid — sort of God, sort of not — reclaim his happiness one sparkly fingernail at a time.

Once everyone’s clear coat polish is dry (Dean had no idea there were so many steps involved), they take a bunch of pictures to send to Sam and Eileen. Dean almost considers hiding his own hands, but Jack’s gazing at him so excitedly that he splays them on the table next to Cas’ without a second thought.

They do look cool. Sam even says so in his text, after a string of heart-eye emojis.

Claire and Kaia head out after lunch (Cas quietly packs up about half of the nail polish they brought, pressing it into Kaia’s hands to take back home with them). Jack spends the rest of the afternoon picking out a suitably colorful outfit to match his nails at school tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This was a wonderful idea, Dean. Thank you,” Cas says that evening as they’re back at the kitchen table, Cas nursing his usual mug of tea and Dean packing Jack’s lunches for the week. “He was so happy. I hope he’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Dean slides the last sandwich into the fridge and lays his hands back on Cas’ shoulders. They’re warm and pliant tonight. He digs his fingers in, leaning down to kiss Cas’ cheek.

“He’ll be okay. He knows we’ve got his back.” He’s quiet for a moment and runs a hand through Cas’ thick hair, following a silver strand with his shiny-green thumb. “That counts for a hell of a lot.”

Cas twists around, covering Dean’s hand still on his shoulder with his own and gazing up at him. “You are a good man, Dean Winchester. A good man and an excellent father.”

Dean sucks in a big breath. “All right, sunshine. That’s about all the feelings I can handle today.” He grins down at Cas, though, just to assure him he’s fine.

And he is.

#suptober21 #destiel ficlet #that's their kid!!#can't be a dadstiel blog without writing a dadstiel fic #i like the concept of jack de-ageing himself post-canon and growing up as a human before being god again #anyway i wanted them all to paint their nails together #even dean #hope y'all like it

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writing-mermaid · 4 years ago

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I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy

Summary : Y/N McCoy, daughter of Jack McCoy works as ADA Carisi’s PA. Before that, Y/N was sort of the Cinderella of the DA’s office working in the dust of the archives. When the DA’s Christmas ball is themed as a Masquerade, maybe it’s time for Cinderella to meet her prince charming, with a little help of her fairy best friend, Katriona Tamin.

Pairing : Sonny Carisi x reader

Warnings : Language, consomption of alcohol, Cinderella AU, some flashbacks, Vanessa Hadid is a bitch (but as she always is it really a warning ?).

Word Count : 14 682

Author’s note : Written for @thatesqcrush‘s Holiday B!ngo: Naughty & Nice filling the free square, and for @sweetcannolicarisi ’s Disney bingo. I know those two bingos are over now but I really wanted to post it between Christmas & New Year, but life stroked hard and I couldn’t write. Ball dress is inspired by the one from the movie A Cinderella Christmas. Don’t forget that feedback is appreciated and really important.

Song of the title : Truly, Madly, Deeply - Savage Garden

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“Assistant District Attorney Carisi’s office, Y/N speaking, what can I do for you ?”, I say, repeating this sentence on a loop all day long.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, I just hate doing it in a fucking hallway, next to my new boss small and windowless new office. Well at least now he has an office, we’re not forced to squat in empty rooms all around the building.

“Oh, hello Captain Benson. How can I help you ?”

“Hello Y/N, can you please ask Carisi to sign me a warrant for a perquisition please ? I emailed you the application. Kat will pick it in less than an hour. Can you do that for me ?”

“Sure, Olivia, consider it done”, I answer.

“Thanks Y/N have a nice day”, she says.

“Have a nice day too Olivia”, I reply, hanging up the phone.

I take a look at the clock facing my desk, 10:30 am. I open Captain Benson’s mail and print the papers she joined in. I get up to the printer, passing next to the break room. It’s time for ADA Carisi’s coffee. I take the papers from the printer and enter the break room. I put down the papers on the table and pour a warm and steamy coffee into ADA Carisi’s usual mug and heat some water for my tea. I put two sugars in his coffee and pour the hot water into my mug with sugar. The papers under my armpit and the two mugs in both my hands I walk back to my desk, where I put down my own mug, and then walk towards his office. I lightly knock on the door before his voice tells me to come in.

“Good morning counsellor”, I say, stepping in the windowless office.

“Good morning, Y/N”, he looks up. “And I already told you to call me Sonny. We work together for a year now, don’t you think it’s time to call me by my name, huh ?”, he smiles at me, with that charming smile that makes me melt.

“I can’t promise anything”, I shrug, returning his smile. “First of all, here’s your coffee”, I say, putting down the cup in front of him.

“Just how I like it”, he hums, taking a sip of it.

“Second, I had a phone call from Captain Benson, she asked if you could sign that warrant”, I add, handing him the papers, his thumb brushing mine when he takes it. “Kat will take it in something like thirty minutes to an hour.”

“I’ll get this ready and let you know when it’s done.”

“Thanks counsellor”, I say going back to the door. “By the way”, I add, turning back to him, “remember that I don’t work this afternoon, it’s my…”

“Monthly lunch date with you dad”, he cuts me. “I know that Miss McCoy, you and I work together for a year, every third Thursday of the month, you have lunch and spend the afternoon with your dad and I always managed to look after myself on those days. So as usual, go eat with your dad and have fun with him. Maybe you’ll start your Christmas errands. Don’t worry for me Y/N, I can handle myself for an afternoon, he smiles at me again. So have a nice lunch and afternoon with your dad Y/N.”

“Have a nice afternoon, counse…”, I can see his finger raising, “Dominick”, I finish before going out, a small smile playing on my lips, almost bumping in Serena, the mail girl.

“Y/N”, she nods at me coldly.

“Serena”, I answer, mirroring her tone.

“Hello Dominick”, I can hear her say with that honeyed voice she uses every time she talks to him, making me sick.

When I go back to my desk, a pile of mail is waiting for me, next to it, two letters. The first one says, ‘Mr. John McCoy’ and the second one ‘Miss Y/N McCoy’. Even retired, my father still receives his invitation for the annual police and DA’s office ball. This year it’s a week before Christmas. As usual, I’m more like his plus one than a real guest, it seems that the office feels obligated to invite me to those balls because my father is the great Jack McCoy. A legend for some. I don’t know if counselor Carisi made the connection between my name and the fact that my father is probably one of the most famous ADA this city ever had, when I’m just a personal assistant.

Sometimes, I’m wondering if they accepted me here because of him, like he asked them for a favor. I started to work here eight years ago. Not as a PA, it would have been too good to be true. There was no place for me. I was put in the archives, doing research for the attorneys, the ADAs, the DAs, the police, everyone who needed it. For a little time, I was ADA Barba’s PA, his was sick and I did the job for two or three months, time she came back. Working with Barba was a learning experience. Of course, I’ve already seen my dad work as an ADA, because I spent a lot of time in his office when I was little after my mom left him, and me in the process, but working with Barba was different, he had different methods, a different way of working. Barba was a great guy, seemed righteous, he was nice to me, even if I can’t say that we were friends or close, I was utterly shocked when I heard about that baby story and that he resigned. I was back in my archive hole when I learned about it. I haven’t met counsellor Carisi, detective back then, while I helped Barba, to be honest, I worked at the other side of the hall, in a proper office, I just caught a glimpse of his tall blond frame from afar. My first impression from my viewing point, he made me think about the character of a book from my childhood, Daddy-Long-Legs. He was tall and lanky, just like the mystery man from the book. I never really saw his face nor his beautiful blue eyes before Vanessa Hadid assigned me to be his PA.

After Barba left, a new ADA came to town, Peter Stone. My father knew his, but Peter and I never met before. He was cute and very nice, he brought me teas and pastries almost every day, and from time to time, we had lunch together. One night, after a few drinks, Peter and I had sex. Nothing committed, just a one-night stand, with no promises, between two consenting adults. The next morning wasn’t even awkward, we both had our fun and we stayed friend, occasionally having lunch or a drink. His sister’s death totally crushed him, and he had a lot of problems. Alcohol, sex, he was on a downward spiral. He left after having been set up by a so-called friend.

Then, Sonny came along. On his first day, Ms. Hadid called me from her office and said I had to come upstairs. I complied, knowing that as she didn’t like me, I should obey. I straighten my clothes and put my hair in order in one of the bathrooms before knocking on her office door. She told me to come in and he was there. He turned around and smiled down at me. Blond hair, bright blue eyes, a charming smile, white teeth, tailored three-pieces blue suit, I was breathless, wondering why I never saw him closer before. I was totally swooned by the man in front of me. I might have stared too long because Ms. Hadid cleared her throat.

“Good morning Y/N let me introduce to you the new assistant district attorney, Dominick Carisi Jr. Counsellor Carisi, this is Y/N McCoy”, she introduced us both.

“Nice to meet you Ms. McCoy”, he said, smiling bigger and extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you too, counsellor Carisi”, I replied, letting him take my hand in his bigger one. “What can I do for you Ms. Hadid ?”, I finally asked, when he let go of my hand.

“Nothing, I just wanted to congratulate you on your promotion.”

“My promotion ma’am ?”, I asked, completely shocked.

“Yes, your promotion. You are, from now, ADA Carisi’s personal assistant. Congratulations.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just opened and closed my mouth like a goldfish out of its bowl. Was it a cruel joke ? After all this time she was finally giving me the position I applied for the first time I passed the Bureau’s door ? For real ?

“I… I… Thank… Thank you”, I stuttered. “I’m glad that you trust me enough to assist our new ADA.”

“I’m pretty sure that you will make a very good team”, she responded, smiling. “Let’s find you both an office”, she added.

An office, we didn’t get it before a few weeks ago. For a year, ADA Carisi and I moved from rooms to rooms, to rooms. It was the worst way to do our jobs. Forced to be in the same room for two very different works. Not that I didn’t like to be in the same room, who would complain after all, Dominick was, and still is, a charming and handsome man, always ready to please people around him and very dedicated to his job. Each morning, he brought me an Italian pastry, still does though, and I grew really fond of him. We exchanged a few things during the few breaks he took or during lunch break, that I had, and still have, to remind him. He explained his path to me, why he wanted to be a lawyer, after having been a cop. I told him about my dad being an attorney too, retired now, but not that he was one of the most important ADA this city had. I still think that it’s strange that he still haven’t made the connection. He asked me why I was a PA and I just answered that it was because I liked that job, and that I probably wasn’t made to be an attorney.

Hadid was right, Sonny and I made a great team. I can’t help but feel like if Hadid paired us, it’s because she don’t like us. ADA Carisi because he was a cop and still has a strong bond with SVU and me because of who my father is. She didn’t expect for us to be such a good team. After a year working together, we have a whole routine. I remind him when it’s time to eat or to have a break, so sometimes, we go together for fresh air, taking a coffee down the street when he’s not too busy. It has been strange a few weeks ago when Hadid finally told us that Sonny would have an office. I thought that finally we would have a proper room to work. When we saw his office, the first question he asked wasn’t to question about the inexistant windows of the room, but where I would work, because there were not enough room for two desks. Hadid simply shrugged and said that they would put a desk for me in the hallway, by the door. I know he was about to protest and to say that if I couldn’t have a proper office or couldn’t be in the same room, he wouldn’t accept that office. But I opened my mouth before he opened his and said it was perfect and that I was willing to wait a little for a proper office. That’s how I ended up here.

“Hey ! Earth to Y/N, are you here ?”

I snap back to reality feeling a hand shaking my shoulder.

“Jesus Christ Kat”, I almost shout. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Well, I told you I was here but, it seems that you didn’t hear me. Too lost in your thoughts, looking down at those envelopes. DA ball”, she adds looking over my shoulder.

“Yep.”

“Going with your dad ?”

“As usual.”

My brown-haired friend sits down on the chair facing my desk.

“Coffee ?”, I ask her, and at the same time, Serena exits from ADA Carisi’s office, giggling.

“Have a good day Dominick”, she continues to giggle closing the door from Sonny’s office, and I can feel anger and jealousy rise in me, my free fist, and my jaw clenching. “Oh, and have a good day too McCoy”, she says, walking in front of me, pushing her little cart.

I really can’t stand that girl. She does everything to make me lose my mind.

“Just go ahead and punch her freaking face, I would gladly enjoy seeing that”, Kat states. “And to be honest, I don’t think that she’s Carisi’s type”, she adds.

“What ?”, I question, turning to her.

“You perfectly know what I’m talking about Y/N.”

“No”, I bite back.

“Oh yes, you know. You have a think for our ADA friend in here and I know it. And I’m not the only one who saw it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Kat”, I sigh. “I have to tell him to not forget to eat when I’m gone.”

“Y/N , you’re mothering him, just like you do with your father”, Kat says.

“I don’t”, I respond. “I’m just reminding him that he has to eat and to take breaks sometimes. He’s so into his work that he barely think to eat, drink, or go to the bathroom. He’s really dedicated to what he’s doing.”

“Y/N”, Kat sighs, “Carisi is a big boy, he’s supposed to know when to stop.”

“Oh, he doesn’t believe me.”

“And you’re not his mom. But you could be his girlfriend. Getting lay would do you good. To both of you. And I saw how he looks at you. With enamored eyes.”

“He doesn’t look at me that way Kat, I’m just his assistant.”

“Well, if you don’t want to see, I’ll not insist. Let’s talk about that ball. I’m going too and my dear friend, this year, I’ll make a princess out of the perfect worker that you are !”

I can see the look on her face, and I really don’t like it. Kat and I met last year when she incorporate SVU team, we quickly became best friends.

“I’ll make your inner Cinderella pop out !”

“You’re scaring me.”

“And I found the perfect dress for you, and mask.”

“Mask ?”, I ask.

“Masquerade ball, baby. You would know it if you had opened those letters instead of daydreaming.”

“I don’t daydream Kat.”

“Yes, you do. And your reverie is about the tall, blond and handsome Italian behind that door.”

“Aren’t you here to get a warrant back for Captain Benson ?”, I ask, hoping that she will change of subject.

“I am, but I have time”, she replies. “I know you have your lunch date with your dad today, but I offer you something. Tomorrow night, girl’s night and then on Saturday, dress shopping. I found the perfect dress for you !”

“You looked for a dress for me ? Kat ! I’m a big girl, I can dress myself.”

“Yeah, with a sad black dress when you can look like a princess. Please, let’s have girl’s night tomorrow and let me show you the dress on Saturday. You’ll love it, I’m sure of it. That might be the perfect way to attract some ADA.”

“Good morning ladies”, my entire body stiffens when I hear Hadid’s voice and Kat jolts out of her seat.

“Ms. Hadid”, I say, nodding.

“Miss McCoy, Detective Tamin you’re here. To what do we owe the pleasure ?”, she asks Kat.

“I’m here for a warrant Ms. Hadid, and as I’m waiting for it, I’m having a conversation with my friend.”

“This is very nice from you detective, but Miss McCoy has some work to do and we don’t pay her to have little chats with her friends. Don’t make me regret to have promote you or I’ll have to send you back in your little hole.”

“I was about to ask ADA Carisi if he signed the warrant”, I say, before she can add anything.

“Fine”, Hadid states, “and then I hope that you’ll go back to work”, and she leaves.

“Really, you shouldn’t let her talk to you that way”, Kat tells me.

“That’s okay, I’m used to it now”, I sigh.

“You shouldn’t get used to it Y/N. You’re way better than that woman.”

At the same time, ADA Carisi’s door opens.

“Y/N, I have the warrant for…”, his voice very soft. “Kat”, he finishes his sentence seeing the dark-haired detective next to my desk. “Morning Kat.”

“Carisi”, she nods, a little smile playing on her lips because of the tone of Sonny’s voice when he thought I was alone.

“This is for you”, he says, handing her the piece of paper I printed earlier.

“Thank you. I’ll leave you two and I will go back to the precinct. Have a nice day Carisi. Y/N, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow”, I reply, while Dominick just nods to her.

And she leaves, the paper in her hand.

“I heard that Hadid was here”, he turns to me.

“Yeah, she was, reminding me that I’m not paid to ‘have little chats with my friends’ and not to make her ‘regret to have promote me’, because she could send me ‘back in my little hole’”, I reply.

“Don’t let her impress you”, he says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You’re a better person than she will ever be.”

I can feel my cheeks getting warmer and I’m probably blushing. That man really knows how to talk to me.

“Let’s go back to work”, he resumes. “I’ll need you and your fast tipper skills to help me for the Mendelson’s case for my plea.”

“Give me time to make more tea and coffee and I’m all yours”, I say, seeing him turning bright red, and I assume that I must look the same. “I didn’t mean. I wanted to say.”

“I know, I understood”, he says, before going back into his office.

Jeez dammit Y/N, you really had to…, I think, facepalming myself. A few minutes later, I enter his office with a fresh pot of hot coffee, sugar, and biscuits. I put down the tray on the side table and settle in front of the laptop next to it. Dominick gets up from his chair, his mug in one hand, a pile of papers with his handwriting in the other. He puts the sheets on the table before pouring himself some coffee and then a tea bag and hot water in my own mug, and settles it next to me, before putting some sugar in it.

“Thanks”, I smile up to him.

He just smiles back and starts to read his papers. We spend the next hour and a half to type, modify, revise the entire speech.

“I think we’re done”, he finally says, stretching in his chair.

I check one last time the document and hit the print button. From the inside of the office, we can hear the noise of the printer. We settle in a comfortable silence while the speech goes out of the printer.

“So”, he finally breaks the silence, “I supposed you received the invitation for the Christmas ball.”

“I did. I must admit that masquerade ball is an original idea.”

“Indeed. I’ll have to find a suit and a plus one, maybe.”

My heart aches when he talks about getting a plus one. When I said I grew fond of him, it was in fact a little more. Dominick ‘Sonny’ Carisi Jr. rocks my world for a year now and I love every part of him, from his ridiculously bright blue eyes to his passion for this job. I love the entire being he is.

“What about you ?”, he asks, making me snap back to reality.

“I’ll probably go with my father, as usual, if I go”, I answer. “Speaking of my father, I should go and refresh a little before he arrives”, I add checking the hour, getting up from my chair. “I’ll bring the sheets when I come back.”

And with that, I exist the office, walking to the bathroom. There I just look at myself in the mirror, trying not to cry because I’m pinning and crushing on my boss.

Sonny’s POV

I watch Y/N leaving my office. Why did I mention that I needed to find a plus one when I don’t want a plus one ? I don’t want to go to that ball with anyone else but her. But I never dared to ask her out. I saw the look on her face when I mention bringing someone with me, that she looked away, as if she was embarrassed by something. She rushed out so fast that I didn’t even had time to tell her that I’m going alone, or probably will bring my niece or one of my sisters. Of course, I’ll not bring a real date to office party, not when the girl that makes my heart sing is the one sitting on front of a desk outside of my office, accepting to work in a hallway just to still be my assistant.

I remember the first time I met Y/N, she had some dust at the bottom of her black pants and on her shoes. A little stain that she probably didn’t notice on her cheek. I knew she had worked for Barba for a few times, while his assistant was absent, but we never stumbled on each other. I looked at her, her Y/E/C hidden behind a pair of glassed, probably easier for her to see in the archives, her Y/H/C tied. When Ms. Hadid introduced each other, I heard some disdain in her voice, like she was despising her, still does though, and I didn’t and still don’t know why. It couldn’t be because Y/N was new here, like I was at the moment, nor because she has links with SVU. I don’t get how she can hate someone who’s so dedicated to her job like Y/N is, she loves what she’s doing, and we make a good team. She takes care of me, more than she should to be honest, reminds me to eat, drink, have some breaks. I remember once, she changed because she had a date, and I couldn’t help to feel jealous of the man she was seeing that night. She was so beautiful in that dress. It’s like every third Thursdays of the month. She has a monthly lunch and afternoon date with her father. On those days, she looks even more glowing. I must admit that I’m a little envious of her dad, you can see that she loves him very much and he has an important place in her life.

I rise my head from the paper in my hand and spot a man standing in front of Y/N’s office. He’s tall with grey hair and hazel eyes is rummaging through Y/N’s papers on her desk.

“Excuse me sir, can I help you ?”, I ask, exiting my office, after putting down the sheet in my hand.

“I’m looking for my daughter”, he answers. “Have you seen her ? Y/N McCoy, not very tall, Y/E/C, Y/H/C hair.”

“Yeah, Y/N, she’s my assistant. She’s in the bathroom right now. Excuse me sir, but these are confidential, and you don’t have the right to look at it”, I add, seeing him looking at the papers.

“Don’t worry son, I was on the job. Jack McCoy”, he says, extending his hand to me, introducing himself.

“Excuse me, Jack McCoy, like THE Jack McCoy”, I ask, grabbing his hand to shake it. “Y/N never told me that you were her father. Wow, I’m so impressed.”

“Seems so”, he answers. “And I bet you are Dominick Carisi Jr., former cop turned ADA. My daughter told me a lot about you. I don’t know if she told you that her grandfather was a cop, she admired him and she admires you. She says you’re an amazing ADA and that you are passionate by the job. She can’t stop gushing about you and how happy she is to work with such a dedicated person.”

“I can assure you Mr. McCoy that I am as equally happy to work with your daughter. She’s an amazing assistant, she takes care of me when I forget about my basic needs.”

“She did the same with me, since she’s a kid she’s taking care about everyone around her. She knows this office like the back of her hand you know, she spent a lot of time here when she was a child. Sometimes I worked very late and she fell asleep on the couch of my office. She was doing her homework in a corner of the office, lying on the carpet, reading a book while listening to music when I was auditioning people. No one was ever surprised to see her around.”

“I can imagine that”, I reply, picturing a little Y/N, wandering around the corridors of the DA’s building, or working for school, or even reading a book on an office couch, headphones on her hears while her father was working.

“Dad”, I can hear behind me, turn around to see that Y/N is back from the bathroom. “What are you already doing here ?”

Y/N’s POV

I enter one of the cabins to pee before going back. When I exit it, I wash my hands and look at myself again checking my make-up and putting some lipstick again, check my hair. When I judge myself decent again, I go out. I walk back from the bathroom, hearing some laughs and voices coming from counsellor Carisi’s office.

“Dad”, I say, spotting my father behind Dominick’s tall frame. “What are you already doing here ?”

“Y/N, sweetheart”, my father passes by counsellor Carisi to hug me. “I was a little early and I thought I would surprise you. That charming young man here said that you were in the bathroom, so we started to chat a little. I get why you like to work with that young man my darling, he’s really passionate about his job”, he adds, pointing the blond ADA with his thumb.

“If you don’t need me anymore Dominick, I’ll go.”

“Dominick ?”, my dad asks, raising his eyebrow.

“He told me not to call him counsellor, just like you did with your assistants.”

“Actually, I told her to call me Sonny, but she doesn’t”, he says, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s too familiar, you’re my boss after all.”

“Dad, if you’re ready we should go. Of course, if you don’t need me anymore”, I turn to counsellor Carisi.

“That’s good for me, you can go.”

“Thanks”, I reply, going behind my desk to grab my purse and to clean my desk. “Don’t forget to eat, to drink, and to take some break. I ordered you some food for your lunch, I prepared the few files you have to check. Don’t leave too late tonight, you have dinner at your parents”, I conclude, looking at Dominick while I list the things I planned for his afternoon. “Your tie, it’s not straight”, I say, looking at his neck, my hands reaching for the knot, his eyes meeting mine when I start to redo the knot, his face a few centimeters from mine, those pink lips I’d love to kiss for a year. “Here, all done”, I say, smoothing his suit jacket.

“Thanks”, he whispers.

“You’re welcome”, I respond, on the same tone.

Someone clears his throat next to us and I suddenly remember that my father is around. I step back from counsellor Carisi and grab the two letters on my desk.

“We should go. Have a nice afternoon Dominick.”

On that, I grab my coat and scarf and I head to the elevators.

“Nice to meet you Carisi, let’s meet again sometimes”, I can hear my father say, probably extending his hand to the counsellor to shake it.

“Pleasure is all mine counsellor McCoy, and I would love to”, my boss replies.

I press the button of the elevator, and when the door opens, I have the bad surprise to see Vanessa Hadid in the cabin.

“Miss McCoy, I see it’s time for your daddy-daughter lunch date”, she says, stepping out of the elevator, her eyes falling on my father who’s walking towards the elevators. “Counsellor McCoy, what a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Vanessa Hadid”, she deceitfully adds, a fake smile on her face, extending her hand. “Let me say that I really admire your work and all you did for the city. I think some people should take your successes as examples”, she looks at me, “and do their job better. Speaking of which, Miss McCoy, don’t forget that you must list all the charges in your documents or the ADA and then the DA can’t do their job correctly.”

“I can assure you Ms. Hadid that my job is done correctly, and that ADA Carisi is very satisfied with my work.”

“I’m sure he’s very satisfied of your job, I can tell, but it’s not enough, and ADA Carisi is satisfied with little”, her remark makes me turn red. “I should remember that you’re just a little secretary and the fact that your father was one of the best ADA of this city doesn’t necessarily make you good at your work, what a shame.”

I can feel my anger boiling inside of my veins. That woman really treats me like crap.

“My daughter is a PA, Ms. Hadid and I can assure you that despite what you are thinking, she’s very good at her job and she knows what she’s doing, after all, she assisted me a lot when she was younger and her first job was to be my assistant, so if counsellor Carisi says he’s pleased with her work, believe me, he is. Good day Ms. Hadid, and unfortunately, I can’t say that it was a pleasure to meet you.”

With that, my father links his arm with mine and we step in the elevator.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re settle at our usual table at Giovanni’s, one of our favorite restaurants. My dad takes me here since I’m a child. It became one of our rituals.

“I’m surprised that you never told him that I was your father”, he says after the waiter took our orders. “That boy was practically fanboying over me. This was funny to see to be honest.”

“He’s unbeatable on the previous ADAs, and I’m not sure that he would have treat me normally if I had told him about our filiation. He’s very passionate about this job. I find it really cute”, I reply, drinking a sip of my lemonade.

“I don’t think that this is the only thing you find really cute about him.”

I almost choke on my drink, while he’s looking at me, a small smile playing on his lips before he drinks some of his whiskey.

“You shouldn’t let her treat you that way you know”, my dad suddenly says, after the waiter put down our plates in front of us, and I know he’s talking about Hadid. “I don’t like the way she talks to you, and the way she talks about that Carisi guy. Clearly, she doesn’t like any of you. But listen to me Y/N, she might be your employer, but don’t forget that you actually have a law degree. Just like her and just like that Daddy-Long-Legs for whom you work. Your ADA”, he adds, emphasizing the ‘your’.

“He’s not my ADA dad”, I sigh, praying that I don’t blush too much.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him, act around each other. You two act like a married couple without being one. But office relationship is not something I really advice.”

“Why ? Because of your own and disastrous experiment ?”, I ask more harshly that I intended.

He gives me a dirty look and I know I’ve gone too far. This is still a sensitive subject. Even if many years have passed, I know that he still feels guilty about Claire Kincaid’s death.

“Dad, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talk to you like that. This was rude from me. I know you only want what’s best for me”, I say, reaching for his hand on the table.

“That’s okay Y/N, you’re an adult and I can’t spend my time to protect you nor make choices for you. He seems to be a nice and good guy and if something happens between the two of you, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks dad, but I don’t think that anything will happen between Dominick and me. And to talk about Hadid, I don’t want to risk getting fired, not when I love the job I’m doing and make a good team with the person I work for. I know I can find a PA job anywhere in the city and that I can work in another DA office, but I love working with SVU and with counsellor Carisi.”

“Promise me something then”, he starts, and I just nod, while he grabs my hand, “if she harasses you, you’ll report her. That woman is determined and tough, but I have no doubt that she would crush you, or Carisi, if she could.”

“I have no doubt about that either”, I respond, drinking some of my lemonade. “Don’t worry dad, if she goes too far, I’ll not hesitate to report her. I promise.”

We continue to eat, in a comfortable silence.

“Are you going at your mom for Christmas ?”, he asks.

“No. Last time I spoke to her, she reproached me to be too close to you. And I responded that she shouldn’t have to leave when I was a kid, I would probably be closer to her. Same thing as usual”, I shrug.

“You should be less hard with her.”

“She’s the one who chose that situation. Thank God, you never brought an evil stepmother or evil stepsisters home. Just your pretty and young coworkers.”

“What about your sister ?”, he asks.

“Rebecca ? Don’t have any news for a while. I think she has better things to do than spending time with her little half-sister who’s fifteen years younger than her. I think I might spend it by myself this year, unless you have nothing planned.”

“I’m already invited by a judge I worked with, in California. I can ask him if you can come if you want to.”

“No that’s okay, thanks dad, I’ll have a quiet night, I’ll order takeout and watch some movies. I’m used to be alone, remember.”

“That makes me sad to know that you will be alone on Christmas. You are young, you need to have some fun. Go to parties.”

“Speaking of parties”, I say, taking the envelopes from my bag, “I had those this morning.”

I hand him his letter announcing the annual Christmas ball.

“Masquerade”, he reads, after taking the letter out of the envelop. “Does that mean they expect us to wear a mask ?”, he asks, not really thrilled at that perspective.

“That’s exactly what they expect”, I reply, taking a bite of food from my plate. “It could be fun, for once.”

“Are you going ?”

“I have to, I can’t skip my job’s Christmas party, especially not when I’m the daughter of Jack McCoy.”

“What are you going to wear ?”, he questions.

“I don’t know, it seems that Kat found something for me, she seems to have decided to play Fairy Godmother with me. Said she found me a gown to wear on that night, to pop-up my inner Cinderella”, I sigh.

“Maybe you should let her do it, she’s your friend, she wants to help you.”

“I know. What about you, are you coming ?”

“I’m going every year, with you since you’re a child, I’m not going to skip that year either, after all they probably will be expecting for me. Especially that boss of yours.”

He folds the letter in two before putting it in his pocket. We finish our lunches and then spend the afternoon walking in Central Park, going to the zoo, another old tradition from my childhood. I must admit that dad freed up some time for me more than he did for Rebecca. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why she doesn’t really like me. Well, I don’t really think that dad took care more about me than about her. I know he did spend more time with me, but that’s because my mother left. I spent countless nights on the couch of his office, countless days doing my homework on the spare table of his office, sitting in a court room, waiting for him to finish work, eating sandwiches instead of real meals, sometimes a hot meal from the restaurant down the street. When I was old enough to take care of myself, I stayed home, but I found my way back to my dad’s office for my first job during the holidays. I was helping, just like his assistant. Little by little I learned to love that job, helping the ADA, being here when he speaks with the victims, trying to help said victim, somehow investigating for him. Yes, I went to law school and had my degree, and I could be a lawyer, but being the ADA’s PA, was what I really wanted, I couldn’t guess that for a while I would be stuck in the archives.

After our afternoon, my dad takes me back to my apartment. After we agreed on going at the Masquerade ball together as we do every year.

The next day is busy. I wasn’t expected for the trial to be that soon. We had a message when I barely arrived that a court and a judge was available for today. The file is complete, we explained to Malia, the victim, all she had to know and that she has to stuck with what she told us, trying to not be destabilized by the other lawyer, everything is ready and we’re sitting at court, when we get the list of the defense’s witnesses.

“There is someone I don’t know on it. Look, a last-minute addition”, counsellor Carisi tells me, pointing the name of a man.

“What do you want to do ? Do you want me to do a quick research ? That name is ringing a bell to me. As if my father had a trial with a man having the same name. Give me an hour or two, I can probably find something”, he just nods and with that, I rise from my chair and go out of the courtroom.

I almost run to my office, quickly making a research in the archives. Bingo, I knew it. Quickly printing what I’ve found, I go back to the courthouse as fast as I can to assist counsellor Carisi. When I arrive again inside of the courthouse, I slide next to my boss, noticing that the man is already in the witness booth.

“Howard Caplan convicted for rape almost twenty years ago. That’s why the name rang a bell to me, my dad was in charge of his trial. Caplan is a rapist, a murderer, and a liar. He’s one of those people who think that victims deserved what happened to them. He’s out because he was released for good behavior three years ago. If you want my opinion, this is a big fuck you to his victims. I was in courthouse when he was found guilty, I was young, but I will remember that face all my life, the face of a monster. The MO is the same, Caplan is probably Rowell’s mentor”, I whisper in Carisi’s ear.

“How did you find it ?”, he asks me, after I show him the paper with the information he needed for the trial.

“I’m the daughter of a retired ADA and the granddaughter of a cop, that makes me really good at sticking my nose into someone’s past, plus this was in the archives I had to type when I worked in my little mouse hole”, I wink at him. “Now you know what buttons to push.”

“Y/N, you’re amazing, I could kiss you”, he says louder, and I turn bright red, and so does he when he realize what he just said. “I mean with no ulterior motive.”

“Counsellor Carisi, if you and Miss Y/L/N have to talk of personal matters, I suggest you do it outside of my court”, the judge shouts in our direction, looking at us.

“I’m sorry your honor.”

“Sorry”, I repeat, and she sighs.

Dominick’s squeezes my hand under the table as another way to say ‘thank you’, his long fingers caressing my palm, a very intimate gesture. I bite my lower lip trying not to sigh in pleasure, and to pay attention to what’s said.

“Counsellor Carisi, do you have things to ask the witness ?”

“Yes, your honor”, he responds the judge, letting go of my hand and standing up, buttoning his jacket, I can see the gearwheel turning into his head.

And for five minutes straight, using the information I gave him, he managed to make Caplan admit that he is Rowell’s mentor and that he didn’t want to kill and rape by himself now not to go back in prison. But his confession is a violation to his parole, so he’s arrested right here and there. As for Rowell, he’s declared guilty by the jury. I sigh in relief when the verdict is said, looking at Malia, who’s sitting right behind me, Captain Benson, and Kat at her sides.

“Thank you so much counsellor Carisi”, she says, hugging him tight.

“Actually, I’m not the one you should thank. Y/N found about Caplan’s past. She helped me a lot”, he tells her, slightly grabbing my hand in his.

I swallow the lump in my throat while his stares at me right in the eyes.

“Thank you, Y/N, you’ve been really nice with me during this all thing”, Malia turns to me and hugs me, making counsellor Carisi let go of my hand.

“You’re welcome Malia. Don’t forget that if you need something, you can contact me.”

“I know, thank you”, she says, hugging me again and tighter, before letting go of me.

Malia exits the courtroom with her mother and sister.

“Thank you, Y/N, I don’t know what I would do without you”, Dominick’s voice says next to me.

I turn to him, his blue eyes are sparkling, while he steps towards me, his gaze never leaving mine.

“Y/N, I’d like to…”

“Y/N, you were amazing”, Kat jumps in, cutting counsellor Carisi, and hold me in her arms. “You and I are officially off duty so let girl’s night begin !”

From the corner of my eye, I can see Dominick leaving the courthouse alongside with Captain Benson. He slightly turns his head towards me, and I can see sadness in his eyes. I grab my bag and follow Kat who drags me outside of the building.

“Don’t tell me that you never noticed the way he looks at you”, Kat says, after at least our fifth or sixth drink.

“He’s not looking at me in any way. Our relationship is strictly professional”, I slur, as drunk as she is.

“And the way you look at him.”

“I’m not looking at it in any way either.”

“You both look like two idiots in love, but you’re too idiots to notice”, she gulps her drink and waves at the waiter for another. “He looks like a lovesick puppy in love.”

The waiter puts down another drink in front of her.

“And besides”, she continues, “today he literally said that he could kiss you, in court, in front of everyone. That you can’t deny.”

At those words, I remember what happened after the judge called us to order, his hand touching mine, little circles on my palm, his hand almost sliding in mine and then, the judge asking him to question the witness, only those thoughts make my cheeks turning red again.

“He just said that because he was happy I found the information. I don’t think he intended to do it”, I sigh, sipping my mojito.

“You know what you need, you need to get laid ! When was the last time you had a good fuck ?”

“Kat !”, I shout.

“What ? You’re gorgeous, clever and you need to get that tall blond and handsome Italian out of your mind. You two act like a married couple without being one.”

“That’s funny you say that my dad told me exactly the same yesterday.”

“And he’s right”, she gulps her drink once again. “Another”, she waves one more time at the waiter.

“No more drinks for you two ladies, you already had way too many and I ordered a cab for you two to go home safely, ride’s on me”, he winks at us. “And this is my number”, he adds, handing me a piece of paper with his phone number on, “in case that guy you like doesn’t open his eyes.”

I thank him and put the paper in my pocket. A few minutes later, the doors opens to a woman around Kat and I’s age and the waiter waves at her to indicate that we are the customers. The ride home has us sleepy and at the second we pass my front door, Kat collapses on the couch, and I manage to reach my room, after putting a plaid on her so she won’t catch a cold. She’s right, I mother people too much. Then, I finally allow myself to sleep when I fall on my bed.

The next morning, I wake up with a slight headache, fully clothed and Kat’s groan from the living room.

“Fuck, my head.”

I stretch like a cat on the mattress, feeling my whole-body crack before getting up.

“Good morning to you too”, I say, stepping in my living room.

“How could you let me drink that much ?”, she asks.

“Nothing can seem to have stopped you, so I rather drank too”, I respond, shrugging. “What do you think about breakfast ?”

“Give me some aspirin first”, she says, sitting on the couch, massaging her temples.

I turn around and walk to the kitchen. I open a cupboard and pull out two glasses, before filling it with water. I open the meds cabinet and take two aspirin pills, then I head back to the living room.

“Here you go”, I hand her one of the pills and one of glasses of water before gulping my own pill and water.

“Thank God”, she thanks me, taking the glass and the pill.

“Oh, you can just call me Y/N, you know”, I joke, and she chuckles. “What about breakfast now ?”, I ask.

“I thought you would never ask”, she answers, rising from the couch.

She follows me to the kitchen. I take grab two mugs and start the coffee maker and the kettle.

“So, dress shopping today”, she states, very seriously when I put some bread, butter, spread and jam in front of her. “I will doll you up for the love of Carisi.”

“You’re obsessed Kat.”

“Me ? No, I just want my best friend’s happiness.”

I rise an eyebrow, not really knowing what to answer to that. I appreciate Kat’s efforts to help me having a love life, but I really don’t really see why she absolutely wants to set me up with Carisi. I recognize that I have a massive crush on my boss, but regarding my dad’s situation when I was younger, I don’t think this is a good idea.

“Stop trying to set me up with my boss please.”

“No”, she replies, a sly smile on her lips.

I pour some coffee in her mug and some water in mine before I hand her the steamy coffee. We take our breakfast in a comfortable silence before each of us take a shower. As Kat and I are used to sleep at each other’s home after a night outside or for a girl’s night, we have spare clothes at each other’s.

“Are you ready ?”, she asks, as soon as I go outside of my bedroom, slipping my head into a NYC sweater.

“Is it normal that I am frightened about that dress story ?”, I question.

“I promise you that you have nothing to be afraid about. I swear that you will love that dress and look stunning in it. It was made for you.”

I sigh, I don’t really have a choice, I need a dress for the DA’s office Christmas Ball and I also know that Kat doesn’t give up that easy. She almost drags me from my apartment to the subway. Thirty minutes later, she stops in front of a little clothes shop.

“How did you find this place ?”, I ask her, knowing that the kind of dress I can see in the window display.

Indeed, a lot of the dresses I can see look like prom gowns or princesses’ dresses. So far from Kat’s usual clothing. I never wore a dress like this, not even for my prom. To be honest, I didn’t even go to prom, no one invited me, and I didn’t want to go there alone, instead, I spent the night at the restaurant with my dad who then, took me to a musical, a quiet night to celebrate my high school graduation and acceptation to law school. I look at one of the dressing and then close my eyes, imaging myself in it, looking like a princess, waltzing with a tall blue-eyed Italian in a three pieces-suit.

“Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. Earth to Y/N, come back here”, my eyes shoot open. “You were daydreaming again, and according to the smile on your face, I know who you were daydreaming about”, she sings-song mockingly.

“I wasn’t daydreaming about Sonny”, I poorly defend myself too quickly, probably blushing in the process.

“Ah ! I knew it !”, she points at me. “But you’re not going into one of these dresses. There is a special one waiting for you inside”, she adds, dragging me inside of the store.

“Kat, you’re here !”, a woman says behind the counter. “And I bet this is the friend you told me about. The one for the dress”, she adds, smiling at me. “Come in darling”, she moves from her spot and grabs my hand to pull me towards fitting rooms, before making me step on a pedestal. “You were right I’m sure the dress will be perfect for her. Please sweetheart, take off your coat so I can see if the size is the good one.”

I do what she says, shrugging my coat off my shoulder. She points at my sweater that I take off too.

“Perfect, she’s gonna be perfect for my dress”, she claps her hands after turning around me.

“I told you it was made for her. And he’s gonna be crazy about it.”

“Can you please stop talking as if I wasn’t in the room ?”, I question, annoyed.

“Yes, sorry sweetie. You’ll step in that fitting you and remove your clothes, socks and shoes too, just stay in your underwear, and I’ll come with the dress and help you slip in it. There are no mirrors in the room, so you’ll not see yourself before we come back here”, I just nod. “Come on, undress and I’ll get the dress.”

Just before I close the fitting room door, I can see the woman locking the front door and turning the open/close sign. I undress as she told me, hopping I’ll not die of cold before she comes back.

“Well, are you ready dear ?”, I hear less than two minutes later, and when I say yes, she comes in, carrying a huge slipcover. “Turn around and close your eyes. Kat wants it to be a surprise”, I comply, I don’t want to offend Kat, especially when she wants to make me a surprise. “Lift your arms, yes perfect”, I can feel the soft fabric of the dress on my skin. One hand puts my right shoulder under a brace, hands smooth the top of the dress around my chest, strings are pulled behind my back, and finally, the skirt is behind deployed around my legs and feet. “Put your hands on the wall, I’ll put the shoes on your feet.” I obey one more time, feeling my feet slipping in, making me a little taller. “Come on darling, eyes closed still, you’ll follow me.”

She grabs my hands and guides me back to the store.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re stunning”, Kat says from I don’t know where.

“Well, for now, I have to believe you as I haven’t seen myself yet.”

“Believe me, you look like a princess.”

“Mind the step”, the store woman warns me. “One more little thing and you can open your eyes.”

I can feel her putting something on my shoulders. A soft and light fabric, maybe tulle caresses my skin.

“Open the mirrors Kat please”, she says. “Okay, now sweetheart, you’ll open your eyes and see yourself. On three. One. Two. Three.”

I open my eyes. There are mirrors all around and reflecting in those, me, in the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen in my life.

“It’s... I…”, I don’t know what to say, I barely recognize myself. I look like Cinderella. The dress is blue, with light blue and golden strass on the bustier which has only one shoulder strap, the other goes under my left arm, little blue straps in the back. The skirt is perfect, made of silk covered with blue tulle, with silver glitters, is not too big nor too small. A tulle shawl is covering my shoulders and tied on my chest. I lift the skirt to check on the shoes. They are the same color as the dress, blue with silver glitters. “Oh my god”, I manage to finally say after looking at me in the mirrors. “Kat, you were right, I look like a princess.”

“Least but not last”, the shop owner comes back near me, a sliver mask matching my dress in her hands. “I designed it for you, especially for the dress”, she adds, putting it on my nose.

I look at the mask, on the silver base, there are blue patterns on the left side and a golden butterfly on the right, with some pearls on its wing. I step down the pedestal and hug Kat tight.

“You’re going to be the most beautiful woman of that ball.”

Three weeks after the dress fitting, and said dress hanging on my wardrobe, in a slipcover, waiting to be worn tomorrow at the DA Christmas Ball. Those last three weeks have been pretty calm, which was unexpected considering the time of the year. Usually, Christmas is one of the busiest times of the year. During those three weeks, I spent a lot of times with Dominick and he was dashing as usual. His blue eyes sparkling when talks about his nieces waiting for Santa to give them gifts. The ball is tomorrow and then, next Saturday it’s Christmas Eve, and on Sunday Christmas, that I’ll spend on my own this year. Maybe it’ll do me good, the occasion to rest and rethink my life maybe.

“Well, I think we don’t need to stay here any longer”, counsellor Carisi says, going out of his office. “You can turn this off Y/N, I don’t think that something will happen now. Friday, 5:30 pm, no calls from SVU since last week. I must admit that I’m glad that this year is calm, not like last year where we had work all over our heads.”

He smiles at me and my heart nearly misses a beat. That man will be the death of me someday. Why am I not even capable to ask him for a drink or a lunch date sometimes, just the two of us, no work between us and especially, no Vanessa Hadid, who just happened to appear in the corridor where my desk is, when Dominick is about to speak again.

“Carisi, McCoy”, she calls us. “You both can leave, we don’t have any more work, so we can call it a week. Go get a drink or grab something to eat, enjoy your evening. See you both at the ball tomorrow. Well, if I manage to recognize you”, she adds, before leaving.

I turn off my computer to see that he came back into his office, probably to take his coat and turn off the light. Then, he comes back when I rise from my chair, putting my scarf around my neck.

“Y/N, before Ms. Hadid arrived and interrupted us, I was about to tell you that it’s still early and I wanted to ask you if you’d like to…”

“Y/N !”, I hear my dad’s voice shooting from behind.

“Dad ? What are you doing here ?”, I question, turning to him, taken by surprise.

“Taking you to dinner sweetheart, it wasn’t planned but as we are going to the DA ball tomorrow and also because I won’t be here the next two weeks so we won’t have our lunch date, I thought that we could spend the evening together.”

“I… Yes dad, of course”, I respond, “give me a minute please”, he nods, and I turn back to my boss. “What did you want to ask me Dominick ?”

“Never mind, another time maybe”, he answers, looking disappointed. “You should spend a good night with your father and enjoy it. I’ll see you tomorrow, try to save me a dance. Have a nice evening. It was a pleasure to see you again Mr. McCoy”, he says, before extending his hand to my father to shake it.

“Did I interrupt something ?”, my father asks once Sonny is out of view and ears.

“You’re the second person interrupting when he’s about to ask me something”, I whisper, not loud enough for him to hear it.

“What ?”

“Nothing”, I sadly smile at him. “Let’s go for a walk and maybe, I’ll find your Christmas present on the way”, trying to be as joyful as possible, feeling bad for Dominick who twice tried to say something and was interrupted, once by our shrew boss, the second time by my good intentioned father.

“If you want my opinion, that boy probably wanted to ask you on a date. He’s got a thing for you.”

“Dad, we already talked about it, don’t be ridiculous. Let’s go now, would you”, I conclude, slipping my coat on my shoulders.

The evening passed fast and the next day is here too soon. Kat joins me in the afternoon to get ready. Her friend from the store showed her how to put the dress on me.

“There you go”, she says, putting a little more red lipstick on my lips. “Perfect.”

She turns me to the mirror, and I look at myself. I already loved the dress when I tried it, but I love it more this time with make-up and my hair done. I take a look at Kat’s outfits. She wears a black suit, with a little touch of make up on her eyes.

“You really are something else Katriona Tamin.”

“What ? Because I don’t wear a dress ?”

“No because you’re really something else. I’ve never had a friend who did for me what you have done. I don’t even know if anybody’s friend already did that. You saw a dress, booked it for me convinced that it would fit, you support me and help me when I need something. I’m glad I met you Kat Tamin and it’s an honor to call you my best friend. Thank you”, I say, hugging her tight.

“Oh, don’t thank me now Y/N McCoy, you’ll thank me when you and Carisi are married, having kids and when you’ll ask me to be the godmother of your first born.”

“Kat !”

“Don’t pretend to be offended. If tonight he doesn’t fall for you, I’ll kick his ass myself.”

We start to laugh when we’re interrupted by the doorbell.

“Hey dad”, I greet him, opening the door.

“Hello sweetheart”, he responds, kissing my forehead. “You look radiant”, he adds, taking a step back to look at me.

“Thanks daddy. I feel like a princess”, I turn on myself to show him the back of the dress.

“Don’t forget this !”, Kat says, handing me my mask. “Hi Mr. McCoy.”

“Miss Tamin. What an interesting choice of outfit. But it suites you.”

“Thank you, Mr. McCoy. You look very good yourself.”

“Thanks, I just didn’t put that on”, he says, waving the mask in his hand. “This is ridiculous.”

“That’s not ridiculous dad, that’s the principle of a masquerade ball.”

“We should go, or we will be late”, Kat states.

“I have a little surprise for you girls”, my dad says once I lock the door.

Indeed, a very big surprise, I was expecting a cab waiting for us, but a limo is parked in front of my building. The driver opens the door and help Kat and I to climb in the car. The ride is quick and before I can realize it, we’re in front of the city hall where the ball takes place. We put our masks on before exiting the car.

“Can you please take us back at midnight ?”, my father asks the driver.

“Of course, sir. Have a nice night”, and with that, he comes back in car and drives away.

I rise my head and notice that the city hall has been decorated for the occasion with a lot of white lights in the shape of snowflakes. My father starts to climb the stairs, followed by Kat.

“Dad wait a minute please. Promise me something. Don’t drink too much tonight please.”

“Be here at midnight or I’ll leave without you.”

That said, he offers me his arm to climb the stairs, Kat by my side. I hand to the person at the door our invitations and we come in. The inside of the ballroom is more beautiful than the outside. There is a huge white Christmas tree, decorated with some Christmas balls, garlands and lights. The walls are full of colorful ribbons. There are tables, full of food and drinks all around the dancefloor, a disco ball hanging on the celling, a DJ is placed in the far end of the room. All around us, there are people wearing masks, so that’s impossible to say who’s who.

“I’ll go grab a drink”, my dad says. “I’ll see you later”, and with that he leaves.

“I want to ferret a little around. If I don’t see you again before you leave, I’ll call you tomorrow”, she says, kissing my cheek. “Have a good night Cinderella”, she winks at me before walking away.

I sigh, finding myself alone in the middle of that big party. I take a glass of champagne of the table and sip on it and taste one of the appetizers on a plate next to the drinks. I start to wander around, climbing the stairs to the balcony, looking down at the ball room, watching the first dancers evolving on the dancefloor. I don’t know who they are and I’m not sure that they know who they are dancing with, but everyone seems to be happy with that. I go back downstairs, wandering on the first floor. Music is blasting from the loudspeakers while I’m still walking around almost walking through I don’t know what door, when a hand touch my arm and stops me. I turn around to see who it is, and my eyes meet with a pair of blue ones. The tall man in front of me is starring, before he grabs my hand and take it to his lips, laying a kiss on it. I can’t properly see his face because of my mask, and his only let me see his eyes, his mask sort of looking like the one of Erik, The Phantom of the Opera, I can only see his mouth, not his nose nor the shape of his face, he wears a black suit, Phantom of the Opera style too, matching his mask. Then, silently, he lightly turns his gaze towards the dancefloor, silently asking for my permission to dance and I just nod. He leads me to the middle of the dancefloor. He takes my hand in his and slides his arm around my waist while I put my other hand on his shoulder, and we start to sway to the music. I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do, the song says, while his eyes are never leaving mine. It’s just him and I lost in the middle of the crowd, locked in a bubble, where nothing else exists but my mysterious dance partner. The more we sway, the more I feel I’m where I’m meant to be, even if I don’t know who he is, I feel good in the arms of that unknown man, who doesn’t seem to know who I am either. The more the song passes, the more I want to kiss him, my eyes go from his eyes to his lips and I think that he must have understand because he leans towards me. I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do, the song says again when our lips finally touch. My mysterious partner has soft lips, I tighten my grip on his shoulder when he deepens the kiss.

The song ends and it’s like our bubble doesn’t burst. He looks at me smiling, pecking my lips once again, before dragging me behind him towards the inner gardens. I’m giggling like a teenager, living my prom in my early thirties instead of at seventeen. He presses me to one of the pillars of the city hall, his right hand on it while his left hand cups my right cheek and his lips find mine again. My hands find his arms and I’m sliding them until I reach the back of his neck, pulling him a little more into me. I’ve never been kissed like this, ever. I don’t know how long I stay here, kissing a perfect stranger but it feels so right and maybe, just maybe for once, I can allow myself not to think about Dominick Carisi Jr. I’m still in my bubble until I hear it.

“Goddamn it, where is she ?!”, I recognize my dad’s voice, opening my eyes wide, pulling away from my strange one-night lover and also realize that the city hall clock strikes midnight.

“What is it ?”, my mysterious man asks, whispering.

“I… I have to go”, I answer, murmuring too. “I’m sorry”, I add, pecking his lips one more time before running for my life.

I think he didn’t had time to process because I have time to reach the main entry of the city hall.

“Hey, wait !”, I can hear behind me, but I don’t have time to care about him.

“Dad, wait”, I shoot, from the top of the stairs when I see him walking towards the limo, and by the way he walks, I can say that he drank more that he should have. “Dad”, I lift my dress and start to run down the stairs.

I manage to reach the car, after I struggled with a hole in the stairs and the heel of one of my shoes.

“There you are”, my dad’s drunk voice greets me when I sit down, and the driver starts to drive. “I saw you kissing I don’t know who. I know I told you you should have fun, but I didn’t think that you would take it that way. “What ?”, he asks suddenly.

“My shoe, I lost one of my shoes, and my shawl”, I say, looking down at my feet, unknotting my mask.

“Well play, now your mysterious prince charming is going to make all the girls from New York trying that shoe to find you.”

“Dad, please stop”, I just manage to say, too tired to bite back at him, because all I want now is to go back home and sleep, probably replaying myself the dance and the kiss to put myself to sleep.

Sonny’s POV

I’m dressing myself, hoping that this will have a good effect for the masquerade ball. I made some research before I chose my outfit for tonight. I didn’t really want to look like a prince charming, I wanted to try something different and I remembered that Y/N once mentioned that there was a masquerade ball in a musical she has seen several times with her father when she was younger, The Phantom of the Opera. I checked online to see what the suit and the mask looked like and I decided to wear it. I just took a mask that was a little different.

“Hey Carisi, nice disguise”, Fin says when he parks in front of my building.

“Wanted to do something a little less conventional than usual, play the game”, I respond.

“Play the game dressing as The Phantom of the City Hall ?”, he mocks me. “Maybe you do that for a certain Y/H/C with Y/E/C lady.”

“She’s supposed to be here, with her father, but with the masks, I’m not sure that I’ll recognize her, she can be dressed in any outfit.”

“Let’s just hope you’ll find her. Now we better get going, I have to take Phoebe on the way.”

We stop by Phoebe’s apartment where she comes out dressed in an amazing dress. Once at the city hall and in the ball room, I look around to see if I spot Y/N or Mr. McCoy, or maybe Kat, as she and Y/N are best friend, she probably knows how she’s dress. After a first drink and some appetizers, I grab another champagne glass and go upstairs, looking at the ball room from the balcony. That’s when I see her. No not Y/N. A girl with Y/H/C in a blue dress, with a matching mask, a butterfly covering half of her face. I don’t know what she’s doing, but she’s looking at everything in an awe. I don’t know why but I feel attract by that girl, I gulp my coupe and go back downstairs. I don’t know what she’s searching or looking for but she’s about to go in a room she can’t go. I don’t say a word, just touch her arm. She turns around, she’s stunning, outstanding, she takes my breath away. A real princess. I just grab her hand and kiss it. I look at the dancefloor, silently asking her if she wants to dance, she just nods and smile. I take her in the middle of it, we’re surrounded by other people. I take her hand in mine and put my other hand on her hip, while she puts her free hand on my shoulder. We sway slowly, following the slow rhythm of the song, some tune that was released when I was like fifteen. I never leave her eyes, gorgeous Y/E/C eyes. I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do, I don’t even know who she is but those are words I would tell that girl. Those are words I would tell Y/N if I dared to tell her how I feel about her, but I’ll probably never say it. At some point I can see her eyes travelling from my eyes to my lips, I’m attracted to her and I want to kiss her, badly. Once again, I silently ask her, and she silently agrees. I press my lips to hers in a slow but tender kiss. Her fingers tighten around my shoulder. Nothing else exists but her and me, it’s like there is a bubble around us. The song ends but I don’t want that night to finish. I peck her lips one more time and take her hand to go to the pillars near the inner gardens. She giggles and I find that this is the cutest sound I’ve ever heard. I press her to one the pillars, I steady myself putting my right hand on the pillar and I cup her cheek with my left hand, and I kiss her again. That’s the first time I kiss a total stranger and it’ll probably be the last time, but it feels right. Her hands go up my arms and find their place behind my neck pulling me into her. I don’t know how long our kiss lasts, but suddenly, she pulls away.

“Goddamn it, where is she ?!”, a voice shouts from I don’t know where and the city hall clock strikes midnight.

“What is it ?”, I ask her, whispering.

“I… I have to go”, she answers, murmuring too. “I’m sorry”, she adds, pecking my lips one more time before she runs for her life.

I’m completely taken aback as she runs away.

“Wait !”, I shout, running after her, but she’s already at the other side of the room, still running. I might have long legs, the crowd stops me to reach her.

I look over people’s heads to see her, her head turning from right to left as if she’s looking for someone. Suddenly, she’s on the run again.

“Hey, wait !”, I shout, making people looking at me.

I see her running down the stairs and when I finally reach the entry and go down the stairs, she dives into a limo and the car leaves.

“Wait !”, I shout once again, going down the stairs, trying to catch the car, but it’s too late.

With rage I rip off the mask from my face.

“Fuck !”

“Carisi, what’s going on ?”, I can see Kat at the top of the stairs.

“There’s, there’s that girl, I danced with her she… She…”, I suddenly stop seeing a blue shoe stuck in the concrete of the stairs and a blue tulle shawl fluttering around.

I bend to take the shoe and I can see Kat going down to me, the blue shawl in her hands.

“Oh, she really made her inner Cinderella pop out, dancing with the prince, loosing a shoe, leaving at midnight”, she says.

“What ?”, I ask.

“Nothing”, she answers.

“You know who she is don’t you ?”, I question her.

“I’m not saying a thing”, she responds. “You will have to find your princess by yourself”, she adds, handing me the shawl.

I take the shawl in my hands along with the shoes and turn back to where the car disappeared, not knowing how I’ll be able to find who that girl is.

Y/N’s POV

I slept at my dad’s after the Masquerade ball, I let the dress flood around my feet in my childhood room and find a few clothes I let in the apartment in case I have to sleep here. Nothing changed since the moment I left home, the decoration is still the same, the sheets on the bed are still the ones with animals and I found an old pink pajama in the chest of drawers. My phone beeps, it’s a message from Kat ‘Girl, I saw you dancing with that guy and most importantly kissing him. Who is he ? So, no more pinning over Carisi ? I want to know everything. Love ya’. I respond her that we will talk about it later. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep, replaying in my head the dance and the kiss.

The next morning, my father drops me at my apartment before going at the airport and wishing me a merry Christmas. I wave at him when the car goes away, sighing, wondering how I’ll get my shoe back and if I’ll ever know who my mysterious prince charming was.

The next three days nothing really happen either, at work it’s still really calm, and I take advantage of it to clean a little and sort the old files which are ready to go in the archives. Sonny seems to be somewhere else, in his own world, I don’t know what he’s thinking about, lost in his thoughts, only snapping back to Earth when I knock on the door. He barely speaks or asks me things, plays with his food when we eat. He seems to look at something that he hides when I enter his office. It’s Wednesday and frankly I don’t really know what to do. I had a phone call with Kat, who asked me about my prince charming if I found out who he was, and I said no. I also told her that I lost one of my shoes and my shawl and asked if she found it or anyone, she said she didn’t see any blue shoe nor shawl and that I should ask the city hall. That I did but, they didn’t find it either. I wonder who can have my shoe and my shawl. Well, I’m not sure that anyone would do anything with a thin tulle shawl and a single shoe.

I continue to sort my files, humming the song I danced on with my mysterious blue-eyed prince charming.

Sonny’s POV

I have the impression that I spend my time starring at this shoe sing Saturday night. It’s Wednesday and I still don’t know to whom it belongs to, nor the tulle shawl. Luckily, we don’t really have work so I can think about what happened during the ball than being distracted of my work. I take the shoe and the shawl everywhere with me, hiding it when someone, mostly Y/N, knocks on the door. Serena came in between and gushed about the ball, saying it was a shame that she didn’t see or dance with me. But she spoke about that mysterious girl with the Cinderella dress dancing with an also mysterious man dressed as the Phantom of the Opera and that a lot of persons are talking about them, the mysterious couple. I clearly understood that she was jealous because she wasn’t the center of the attention. Knowing her a little, she would have brag about herself if she was the girl in the Cinderella dress. Honestly, I’m relieved that it’s not her. Actually, I’d preferred that Cinderella was Y/N to choose. She’s very quiet for the last three days, I’m not really talkative either, each of us in our own world. I didn’t even ask her how the ball was for her. We don’t have a lot to do, it’s almost like criminals decided to be nice this year.

It’s very early and I don’t have a lot to do and I think that Y/N doesn’t have a lot to do either, I could take her out for lunch, we have plenty of time. She started to sort old files to store them in the archives, but I don’t think she has many to do after two days of doing it already. I open the door and I can hear her softly humming a song. At first, I don’t recognize it, but then ‘I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do’. The song, the Masquerade ball song, the I danced on with Cinderella. It’s her, Cinderella is Y/N ! Realization strikes, same hair color, same eyes, how couldn’t I even realize it before ? I step back in my office and take the shoe and the shawl out of the drawer before going back to the hall.

“I wanna stand with you on a mountain, I wanna bathe with you in the sea, I wanna lay like this forever, Until the sky falls down on me.”

Hearing these words, she turns around, looking at me with wide eyes, falling on the shoe and the shawl between my hands.

Y/N’s POV

Behind me, I hear the chorus of the song from the ball. I turn around and I can feel my eyes widen when I realize that prince charming is Dominick freaking Carisi Jr., my own boss, the guy I’m heads over heels for, for a year. My eyes fall on the shoe in his hand, my shoe, the one I lost.

“It was you all along”, he almost murmurs. “I think this is yours”, he adds, kneeling in front of me before I can even rise from my chair.

He removes my left shoe from my foot and slips the blue one on. I don’t even respond, I just look into his beautiful blue orbs, wondering how I couldn’t see that it was him all along. How couldn’t I not recognize someone I see almost every day for more than a year. He gets on his feet and holds his hand to me so I can get up too. None of us say a word, he just slips the shawl around my shoulders.

“It seems that people are talking about us”, he says, his voice still soft and without raising his tone, and I look up to him. “What happened Saturday night, you have no idea for how long I wanted this to happen”, he adds, his hand cupping my cheek, making me look at him. I start to touch his arms, my eyes never leaving his. “Y/N, can I kiss you again ? Because to be honest, that’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about for the last three days and the moment you ran away.”

“Yes, you can, Dominick. And for the record, that’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about too.”

In no time, he bends his head, and his lips are on mine giving me a soft but yet passionate kiss. I snake my arms around his neck, one of my hands starts to play with his hair, allowing him to pull me a little more into his tall frame, one of his hands finds its way behind my head, when his second arm wraps itself around my waist. Once again, I feel like I’m in a bubble, here in Sonny Carisi’s arms, it’s like nothing can harm me there.

“Excuse me, what the hell is going on here ?”

We both turn our heads to the voice coming from the other side of my desk. Vanessa Hadid is here, starring at us.

“Miss McCoy, I don’t think I pay you to make out with one of my ADAs. You are paid to assist him, not to kiss him. Mr. Carisi, I don’t think that behavior is appropriated, and this could make both of you fired. Or I can send Miss McCoy back to her little whole downstairs. Your choice Miss McCoy, either you and counsellor Carisi stop there your little make out session and go back to normal relationship, or you can go back to your little hole in the archives or if I want to, I can fire you right away.”

That’s too much this time, it’s the final straw. Sonny lets go of me and I smooth my clothes.

“Ms. Hadid, may I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want to be interrupted. I don’t know what I’ve done to you or why you don’t like me. Is it because of my name ? Because my father is one of the greatest and most famous ADA and then DA that city ever known ? Is that an ego problem ? Let me tell you something. I know you’re the one who hired me, so I don’t think that you have see my resume, but if you look at it, you’ll see that I have a law degree, just like you, just like counsellor Carisi, just like my father, the great Jack McCoy. I just chose a different path. I spent a lot of time around here when I was a kid. When I was old enough to work, I helped my father, was his PA and I loved the job, that’s why I chose to be a PA rather than a lawyer. What you’re doing to me is harassment, once again I don’t know why, but I think that it must be because my name is McCoy, that for you maybe I’m privilege because of that. Breaking new, I’m not. But you know what, I know my rights, nothing authorizes you to fire me just because I’m in a relationship with a coworker, especially of it doesn’t jeopardize our work. Sonny and I are a great team. So, threating me of fire me because of that, you don’t have the right to. I could sue you for that you know, and believe me, you never saw me in court. My father could represent me, go out of his retirement, and plead for me. Or I could do it by myself, and believe me, as Jack McCoy’s daughter, I know how to defend a case. So now Ms. Hadid, threat me one more time for no reason and I’ll sue you, and I can guarantee you, that you’ll not win.”

She opens and closes her mouth like a goldfish out of its tank.

“If you both think that this relationship will not have a bad influence on your work, there is no problem for me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m on a break from now to the end of the holidays. Both of you have nice holidays and I’ll see you in January.”

With that, she leaves, letting me and Sonny alone in my hall.

“I didn’t know you had a law degree”, Sonny wraps his arms around my waist.

“Oh, I don’t tell everyone in fact. Everyone would think that they need to hire me as a lawyer because of my father and I don’t want that. Plus, I think I wouldn’t have made a good attorney. I’m satisfied with my work”, I shrug.

I look at him, hair disheveled from my hands, so far from their usual combing.

“Do you want to have lunch outside ?”, he asks.

“Dominick Carisi Jr., are you asking me out ?”

“If you want it to be a date, this can be, Miss McCoy.”

“I’d love to”, I respond, “but maybe it would be better if I wear the same shoes”, I laugh.

I sit down again on my chair to change my shoe for my boot. When I’m on my feet again, Sonny hands me my coat and helps me to put it. When I’m ready, we walk hand in hand to the elevator.

“Still nothing planned for Christmas ?”, he questions.

“Nope, nothing but tv and probably Chinese takeout.”

“What if you come with me at my parents’ ? One more person will not change anything. And my mom will be very impressive that I managed to put the glass slipper on Cinderella’s foot.”

I laugh and I accept, I really have a good feeling about this.

Taglist :

@bisexualcrowley, @storiesofsvu, @the16thprecinct, @svu-ncis-criminalminds, @australiancarisi, @teamsladsandgents, @thatesqcrush, @caplanreads, @averyhotchner,

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whydoyouwantmyname · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine finding out something you never knew

You came out of the bathroom to see your favorite Winchester seated at the table, his head in his laptop as he typed away, probably looking for the next case that the three of you would embark on.

Your boyfriend however say on the bed, a coffee mug of Jack Daniels in hand as you looked at you, "What the hell is on your face?"

"Its called a clay mask, it is supposed to help clean out your pores, and helps exfoliates your face." You stated, your face green with the hardening goop.

"Can you say that in guy language please?" He asked as Sam piped up, "The mask makes her face soft."

"How do you know that?

"I lived with a chick in college, plus we've known [Y/N] for years, and you are just now noticing she does these?

"This is why you're my favorite Sammy, I clearly feel in love with the wrong brother." You teased as Dean shifted in the bed, "Does it hurt?"

"Totally, most painful thing non supernatural related you will ever go though. However if you want to try it, I will gladly..."

"Yeah." He stated, as you pointed towards the bathroom, "Well first go take a hot shower, gotta open up those pores."

When he came out, wrapped in a towel you were sitting on the bathroom counter, door wide open as Sam stood in the doorway and watched, looking at you smile Dean raised an eyebrow, "You sure it isn't going to destroy my beautiful face?"

"Positive, now get over here." You reassured him as he took his place between your legs, "If Sammy wasn't standing guard the things i would do right..."

"Those thoughts have to wait Deano, now I am afraid your face is going to need a lot of work, but don't worry, it is nothing a few shots of whiskey can't handle."

With that he chuckled, "You trying to call me ugly sweetheart?"

"Dean Winchester, famous Lady killer..ugly, never." You smiled, before slapping some black, cold goo onto his face, spreading it out evenly as you talked, and once you were done you stated, "Now it has to sit for 20ish minutes, and it is going to feel tight, when it is completely dry, you can peel it off, but not until then. Also whatever you do, do not smudge it on accident into your hair, or eyebrows."

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh and Sammy, I need you to run to Wal-Mart, I need am Aloe plant, nit the tube shit but an actual plant." Tossing him a ten, he grabbed baby's keys and raced off leaving you to stare at Dean, "What's the plant for?"

"Mostly for the skin irritation after we peel this sucker off, and it can help treat any acne or blemishes you might have, keep you looking pretty for all the ladies."

"Well luckily the only girl who matters already find me extremely attractive."

"Lucky her." You smiled, "Now while we wait, wanna watch a bad sitcom?"

Sam returned 30 minutes later, his brother shouting, "Son of a bitch that hurts."

"I told you to peel the mask up, why would you peel down?"

"When you washed your you went down."

"Well mine wasn't a charcoal peel mask Dean."

"Isn't that one supposed to hurt the most?" Sam asked as you leaned back and looked at the youngest Winchester, "Yes, but it is by far the most effective, now Plant please."

Handing you the plant, you quickly snapped off part of it and split it down the middle before rushing back in, Dean's back to Sam as you got up on your tip toes and started rubbing it on his face, after several minutes you looked to him, "Better."

"Slightly, I think I will need a kiss though to truly recover." Causing you to kiss him, before turning, Sam bursting into laughter at Dean's shiny, red face.

"Yeah, laugh it up." Dean rebuttaled before going to the bed you were both sharing and flopping into it, you not far behind. Sam took the hint and quietly tucked himself into bed, smiling at the unforgettable, red face of his eldest brother.

The next morning you woke up alone, however when you looked up you saw Dean was standing in front of the mirror, his face no longer red from the ideation, and his fingers softly pulling down his face, you knew that chances were that he was admiring how smooth his face was after the mask, and you couldn't help by smile at the idea of doing daily facials with him

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester one shots #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction

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djarinslover · 4 years ago

Text

Tenderly

A muffled shout caused you to stir, grogginess clouding your head. You heard it again, which caused alarm to run through your body. You stilled, listening for the sound again to figure out if it meant danger. Only, you realized it was Jack. He was having a nightmare, caught up in the sheets as he twisted and turned. You leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp, turning back to touch his shoulder. He jerked violently away from your touch, but it didn’t stop you. You smoothed a hand over his shoulder, sliding it over his chest to his other shoulder, curling yourself best as you could against his side. He felt feverish, sweating as he kept mumbling out words between sharp gasps.

“Jack, honey. Wake up,” you whispered in his ear, other had brushing his sweaty hair aside. “It’s just a nightmare, baby. It’s not real.”

Slowly, he began to ease out of the nightmare, twitching and crying out less. You continued to whisper in his ear until his big beautiful eyes fluttered open to meet yours. Those eyes that you loved so much were clouded with unshed tears. He whimpered softly, rolling over to his side to wrap his arms around you. You hugged him close, fingers running through the hair on the nape of his neck.

After a few moments of quiet, where Jack’s breath began to get even, you asked, “Want to talk about it, baby?”

He shook his head. You knew his nightmares varied in intensity, some were recurring ones that had haunted him for years - his recruitment process, training, his first mission, his high school sweetheart dying, you getting kidnapped. Others were vague, stress related, typical ones everyone gets.

“Was it about work?”

He nodded.

You knew about Jack’s job, even though technically you weren’t supposed to know. It had came out accidentally, when the two of you were out on your weekly date night. You were walking through the park hand in hand when out of nowhere, a man grabbed you by the throat, a gun pointed to your head. You can’t even remember what the man was monologuing about, everything was a blur except for Jack’s face. You had never seen him so angry or terrifed before. It was a look you never wanted to see twist his pretty face again.

So after your boyfriend heroically saved you, he sat you down and explained everything he did for a living. You didn’t mind what he truly did, even though he begged you on his knees that night, tears rolling down his face, to run away. Run away from him, from the city, change your name and never look back. You took his face in your hands and swore to him that you would learn self defense and how to use a weapon. It didn’t ease his anxiety until he saw how you began to handle yourself, and as time went on, he slowly became less wary. Eventually you met Ginger Ale, Champ and Tequila, along with other field agents including Kingsman agents from England, Eggsy (Galahad was his code name) and Harry Hart. You weren’t an agent but you felt like they were all close friends.

You were brought back to the present as Jack nudged your collarbone with his nose, lips pressing against your skin. His fingers were digging bruises into your hips, he was trying to stay grounded, needed to know you were real and alive and there.

“Do you want some hot chocolate? That always helped me as a kid with bad nightmares.”

He nodded weakly, so you pressed a kiss to his forehead before speeding off to the kitchen. You put on the loudest tea pot you had, then went back to your boyfriend. He was curled up with a pillow, tv flashing off of his face. He had put on some stupid drama on Lifetime. You crawled under the sheets with him, drawing his head to your chest. You played with his hair, the two of you becoming invested in the awful movie until the water was boiled. You returned to your room with two mugs of hot chocolate, one filled to the brim with tiny marshmallows the way Jack liked it. He flashed you a brilliant smile when you handed him the mug, all sight of the nightmare seeming to have passed.

“Hey, darling?” Jack rasped after a while. Your drinks were half way finished and a different movie was playing. You were half asleep on his chest.

“Hmm?”

He nudged you up, making you grumble out a selective choice of words that made him chuckle. He reached over to his bedside table, searching around in a drawer for a quick second before turning to look at you sheepishly, hands behind his back. “I know this isn’t the most perfect moment, not all decorated or at a fancy restaurant with a band playing. But that nightmare I had made me decide it’s time.” Your eyes widened as he spoke. He broke out in a smile. “I couldn’t wait for the perfect moment any longer. I need to know now.”

He adjusted to sit on one knee, pulling out a ring from behind his back. It was small, not super flashy but not plain. It looked like a few rings you pointed out you liked months ago, when you decided to talk about marriage and if it was right for your relationship. He had a dopey look on his face, a mix between apprehension and excitement.

“Will you marry me, doll?”

“Oh my god, Jack. Of course. Yes. A thousand times yes!”

You threw yourself into his arms, nuzzling your face into his neck. Squeezing him hard, you pulled back to look in his eyes. “I can’t wait to tell the gang you proposed at two forty am because of a nightmare.”

His face pinched at that, eyebrows knitting together as he tried to scowl, but you knew a laugh was bubbling in his throat. “No such thing happened. We went to Paris for the weekend, where I proposed in front of the Eiffel Tower as fireworks went off,” he joked as he slid the ring on your finger.

You admired the ring on your finger, grinning so hard you thought your face would split. You gave Jack a deep kiss, both of you laying down as you shared sweet nothings and giggles, curled up with each other. Safe.

In the morning, the first thing you registered was the light kisses being pressed along the back of your neck and shoulders. You stirred, rolling over to meet Jack’s eyes. He looked so soft in the morning light that filled your bedroom, golden light making him look like an angel. A tender look was in his eye as he nose bumped yours, lips pressing a kiss to your own.

“Good morning, Mrs. Daniels.”

Heart thumping in your throat, you remembered what happened in the wee hours of the morning. Looking at your hand, a new feeling flooded over your body. It left you warm and tingly. You could get used to being addressed like that. Jack Daniels was yours and yours forever. Nightmares and all.

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels #x reader #fluff #agent whiskey fluff #pedro #pedro pascal imagine

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 5 years ago

Text

Home - Part 14

"Look all I'm saying is that people have been in and out of here all day. Maybe he just got in with one of the other guests" Bucky said i pulled out my bags and started throwing my clothes inside.

"Im not willing to take that chance Bucky!" I snapped "as long as I'm here I'm putting you and the girls in danger! You dont know what his capable of!"

"You think I'm gonna let him close enough to hurt you and the girls??"

"He already got close enough! he took photo's of me in the shower!!! Christ he could've done more if he wanted to but his playing with us! Its all a game to him"

"One his not gonna win"

"His already winning dont you see that?" I cried covering my face with my hands.

"Baby i cant loose you!" Bucky said clearly panicking as he pulled me into his arms "dont let him win I'm begging you, you belong here with us"

"Your not gonna loose me Bucky" i mumbled into his chest as i wrapped my arms around him "I just think it'd be better if i go back to my place. Until Jack is caught, its safer for the girls if I'm not here"

"No!" He snapped leaning back to look at me.

"No?"

"Im not letting you go back there alone thats crazy! we'll be fine here....the girls will be fine. I'll check the house with Steve and Sam make sure his not here still.... i'll change the alarm codes.... the safest place for you and the girls is here with me"

"But...."

"No buts, your mine, he can't have you" he said pressing his lips to mine "I'll even get Steve to stay while we sort this out".

"Bucky if anything were to happen to those girls id never forgive myself"

"They will be fine babe"

"You really believe that?"

"I do. Id never put them at risk"

"Okay...."

Sleep was hard to come by that night, once i knew Bucky was asleep i carefully slipped out of bed and grabbed his sweater off the back of the chair before heading downstairs. I made a cup of coffee and went to sit on the sofa, my face turned towards my shoulder so i could inhale Bucky's calming scent off his sweater. My phone that was on the table next to my steaming mug of coffee started to vibrate.

"Unknown Number Calling" flashed on the front, i knew it was Jack.... who else would be calling me at 3am? I reached for the phone and hit the green button connecting the call.

"What?" I mumbled trying to keep the nerves i was feeling in check.

"Hey baby" he replied sounding smug as fuck, if i could guess id say he was smiling "you look tired.... you not sleeping properly?"

"What do you want Jack?" I sighed shaking my head, there was no way he could see me... all the curtains were closed so i knew he couldn't be lurking outside watching me.

"I told you already. I. Want. You."

"Too bad. You can't have me"

"Oh sweetheart you know thats not true"

"Jack your fucking delusional! There is no version of this that ends with us back together! Go find someone else, your good at that! In fact why dont you give Lucy a call? I'm sure she'd welcome your attention" i said referring to my ex best friend that he had cheated with.

"I told you i made a mistake with her. I was stupid i know that now.... but if you just give me another chance you'll see we're meant to be together"

"No! Jack i dont want anything to do with you!! if i never saw you again...that would be too soon!! please just leave me alone!"

"Never" he growled down the phone "if i can't have you no one can" he added before the line disconnected. Once i knew the call had ended i broke down, finally letting the tears fall.

"Y/N?..... sweetheart you okay?"

I looked up to see Steve standing in the doorway in black sweat pants, his hair a mess. As soon as he realised i was crying his rushed to my side gathering me in his arms and holding me tight.

"Whats wrong?"

"Jack.... hh...he just called me" i said holding onto Steve like my life depended on it.

"He what?! what did he say?"

"The same old shit his been saying, that he wants me back.....it was, it was what he said before he hung up" i looked up at Steve and took a deep breath "he said if he cant have me no one can. Steve, what if he goes after Bucky??"

"Bucky can handle himself darlin'..... im more concerned that he'll try and hurt you. If he knows you won't go back to him....."

"Oh my god......" i started to panic as i thought about Jack coming after me and that he might actually kill me...."that way no one gets me" i whispered.

"Hey, we wont let anything happen to you okay?"

"Im so tired Steve" i cried burying my face against his bare chest.

"Try and get some sleep sweetheart"

"I cant, what if his watching....."

"We checked the house, his not here"

"I know that but i can't switch off! I need to be awake incase.... i need to make sure the girls are safe"

"The girls are safe.... YOU are safe i promise" he said kissing the top of my head as his hand stroked up and down my back soothingly.

"Doll?" I heard Bucky's sleep ridden voice say as he walked into the living room "Steve?.... whats going on?"

"I came down for some water found her crying on the sofa, Jack called her" Steve told Bucky as he closed the gap between us, Steve instantly passing me into Bucky's arms.

"Take her back to bed Buck she needs to sleep"

"I cant....." i started to say with wide eyes.

"You can, i'll stay awake"

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart. Now go get some sleep"

"His right, come on" Bucky took my hand and started to lead the way back upstairs "we'll talk in the morning?" He turned to his friend with a concerned look on his face.

"Sure" Steve nodded at his best friend.

"Thank you Steve" i called over my shoulder, he was already switching on the TV to find something to watch while he kept watch for the night.

"No trouble at all sweetheart, goodnight"

"Goodnight" i smiled back.

I was laying in bed tangled in Bucky, his arms wrapped around me and our legs tangled together, my fingers gently stroking up and down his arm as my eyes wandered around the room, all sorts of things running through my mind. I felt his arms tighten around me and his face snuggle against my neck as he started to wake up.

"Morning beautiful" he said quietly pressing kisses behind my ear.

"Morning"

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Some" i nodded and shrugged a shoulder before turning to look at him. Bucky was so beautiful, i could look at him forever and never get tired of the sight. "I love you" i said trailing my fingers over his beard, a smile spread across his face instantly.

"I love you more"

"Sure you do" i rolled my eyes before giggling as he started to tickle my sides.

After finally dragging ourselves out of bed we went down for breakfast, Steve was already sat down with the girls, Rosie sitting in his lap.

"Morning" he looked up smiling as we walked in.

"Hey pal"

"Morning Stevie" i smiled before walking over to the coffee pot.

"You feeling better? Get some sleep?"

"Mmhmmm" i nodded before taking a seat next to Brooke.

"Really?"

"She got a couple of hours" Bucky added sitting across from me next to Allie.

"Good, Becca called earlier by the way, wanted to take the girls out for the day. She said you were okay with it, she asked at the party?"

"Oh yeah she did"

"I told her i'd drop them off on my way home, i need to go grab a change of clothes"

"That'd be great actually"

"Thats settled then. I was thinking, you should call Sam and report Jacks call last night.... they should have record of it"

"Yeah i thought so to" Bucky nodded taking a mouthful of his coffee.

Steve and the girls had left half hour ago and the house was eerily quiet without them around. Bucky had called Sam and told him all about the phone call i had received from Jack, Sam was going to look into it ASAP.

We had settled on the sofa to watch a movie and make the most of some alone time with no interruptions from the girls. It quickly led to a heated make out session and some good old fucking on the sofa.

"Your sofa is better for this by the way" Bucky chuckled as his naked ass squeaked on the leather making me cackle loudly.

"My sofa is definitely better for this" i agreed "We should probably get dressed before Steve comes back, i dont think he'd appreciate walking in to our naked asses on the sofa" i laughed against Bucky's chest.

"Yeah i guess so".

We reluctantly started to gather our clothes and get dressed, a cell phone ringing got our attention. We both started lifting various items of clothing looking for the phone.

"Its yours" i said handing Bucky his phone before pulling my sweater over my head.

"Barnes" he answered in his 'work voice' "your fucking kidding me..... no! Chloe that should have been done last week and filed already!" He moaned running a hand through his hair "he wont accept it until i sign it? Fuck sake!"

"Bucky if you need to go in i'll be okay" i said quietly so Chloe wouldn't hear me.

"I'll be there in 20 minutes" he snapped before hanging up the phone "I cant believe that girl sometimes! i told her to file this case a week ago! Now they need my signature...."

"Its fine Buck, Steve will be back soon anyway i wont be alone for long. I'll lock the door once you leave and set the alarm"

"You sure? You could come with me...."

"Id rather just stay here, i'll go have a bath and maybe try and get some more sleep now you've worn me out" i chuckled.

"Oh but now i wanna stay and join you!" He moaned leaning in to kiss me.

"I'll wait for you to get back for the bath then"

"I'll be quick!" he laughed jumping up getting his keys and heading out. I couldn't help but laugh at what a dork he could be at times. I watched him drive away waving through his open window then locked the door behind him once he was gone and set the alarm before heading back into the living room, i straightened up the sofa and made sure it was clean and tidying before making my way into the kitchen.

I was wiping the table over clearing up bits of cereal that the girls had spilt when my phone started ringing. I thought about ignoring it at first, i wasn't in the mood for another call from Jack! But then i thought it might be Bucky or Steve checking in so went back to the living room to get my phone.

I was a little surprised to see it was Sam calling me.

"Hey Sam, you looking for Buck cause his just had to go into work real quick"

"No, no I'm not looking for Buck, wait are you at home on your own right now?"

"Yeah, he'll be back within the hour, im fine the doors are locked and the alarm is set"

"Y/N i need you to stay calm and listen to me...... i need you to leave, just get out of that house" he said sounding panicked.

"What?.... why?" I felt my heart start to race.

"I traced that call, it came from within the house!!"

Home taglist: @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @lumar014

@bbmommy0902 @past-perfect-future-tense

@heathens-takeitsl0w @captainchrisstan

@ladymelissastark @93generation

@sebastianstansqueen @oceansxpurple

@Imjstaghoststory @rainbowkisses31

@superavengerpotterstar @cap-just-said-language

@booktease21 @ms-betsy-fangirl @wildest-dream-

@michelehansel @thummbelina @abbylizy

@sweetlittlegingy @lorabem @barnesandrogersworld @dumblani

@broco8 @xxloki81xx @keithseabrook27

@jesseswartzwelder

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #home #bucky barnes fanfiction #chris evans #steve rogers #sam wilson #reader insert

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tirednotflirting · 4 years ago

Text

so alone in love like the world had disappeared

this is probably???? baby’s last fic of the year. i already went off a lil bit on ao3 but just another thank you to anybody that sat down and read my fluffy lil stories this year. it’s been a lot of fun writing and working to get better at it in this space.

extra love and thanks to the club for keeping me going and being the most supportive lil place in the world this year. you are all the kindest souls and our community is a really special one. this year was a lot of crazy and unknown but i always knew i could count on you guys to be there even on the darker days.

this is inspired a lil bit from ed sheeran’s new tune, afterglow. something about it just feels like pure love and warmth and good stuff and so this lil idea popped into my mind after hearing it around thirty times in 24 hours i think.

here it is on ao3 :)

much love and happy rest of the holiday season to you all <3

It’s moments like this that make Jack want to be a better songwriter.

They’re not allowed moments of peace like this too often. Always people to see, things to do, songs to sing. Every quiet morning was bound to be interrupted by something or someone. It’s something Jack had noticed his boy getting just the slightest bit frustrated by as it kept happening. Alex’s brain never stopped once it started for the day so it made sense how it all got a little draining eventually without some quiet every so often.

Hiding away for a bit during a break from tour had been Jack’s idea. He had presented the possibility on the bus one night after finding Alex awake far too late again. Jack found him with another mug of tea pressed between his palms in the back lounge and pulled him into his lap to show him pictures of the Airbnb he had found somewhere in upstate New York. Alex had only sighed and tucked himself further into Jack’s hold, mumbling something between thank you and god, I love you.

It had been a good little vacation away from the rest of the world. The snow covering the ground surrounding the little house provided an almost deafening silence but from the first day Alex had breathed it all in like he was discovering cold air for the first time in his life. The scenery and quiet seemed to be doing Alex well, his shoulders sitting back further like a weight had physically been lifted off of them and an easy smile rested around his eyes from the very first night. The plan had given Jack a similar sense of serenity though his was from a view different than the one Alex spent most of his days gazing out at through the big window in the living room.

The picture of Alex enjoying his view is the one that Jack is taking dozens of mental snapshots of right now. He’s only just woken up, and while normally he would get pouty and dramatic enough to make Alex laugh at his antics over waking up alone, he knows exactly how and where he’ll find him. He knows these mornings have been particularly healing to Alex’s stressed mind.

Jack leans against the doorframe that leads into the living room in the sweats he slept in and one of his hoodies that Alex had stolen enough times on this trip that his cologne lingers on the collar. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth as his smile gently grows across his face and his eyes strain against the light coming in from the window as well as the glow of Alex in the morning.

He’s facing out toward what’s beyond the window, the trees and snow and probably the rabbit family they noticed the first morning. He sits with his legs crossed, a mug of coffee or tea between his palms and close to his face. Alex’s hair is still all mussed up from the night before, from the way Jack always falls asleep with his fingers carding through the ends of it. It works out well that Alex is so fond of the action and that it knocks Jack out better than any mumbled lullaby Alex will try on the nights Jack can’t seem to make his mind settle. He can’t see it now but Jack figures the front of Alex’s hair is falling over his eyes. It’s gotten a bit long during tour as it tends to do.

Time feels slower in the moments like this. Maybe it’s the quiet bubble they’re existing inside of on this little trip or maybe it’s how Jack wants every moment he sees Alex at peace to last a lifetime. Jack had always thought there were never enough hours in the day to see and do everything he wanted but then a minute lasts an eternity with Alex and suddenly he doesn’t even want to check his watch. Love is funny like that, he supposes.

Alex turns then, likely sensing his presence in the way they tend to do (soulmate shit, Zack would say). The glow surrounding him grows as a soft smile pulls at his lips and the crinkles around his eyes appear. Alex in the morning has always been a sight for sore eyes, Jack thinks. But then again, he’s obviously a little biased.

He feels himself melting as their eyes stay locked until Alex winks at him from across the room. “Come join, my love.” he says to Jack, his voice still rough from sleep. Jack has spent nearly half his life listening to Alex sing beautiful notes and words to thousands of people and yet, nothing even comes close to the sound of his voice calling him across the room or into the kitchen for a coffee every morning. He feels spoiled by how often it’s reserved solely for him.

“What’s in the mug?” Jack asks as he ruffles up Alex’s hair further before climbing over the back of the couch. He leaves his hand resting against the leather and smiles when Alex turns to let his legs unfold and drape over Jack’s lap, his head leaning to rest against Jack’s shoulder.

“Mmm, it’s the coffee we picked up on the drive from the airport,” Alex takes another sip before holding it out between their faces. “Here, try it, it’s good.”

Jack notes the light color of the brew from the cream Alex always insists on only for morning coffee (I don’t want to be assaulted by my first cup of the day, Jack). He takes a long sip and he’s right, it’s a damn good cup of coffee.

“Oh, I think I need some of that,” Jack says, his hands gently patting against Alex’s legs where they rest in his lap. “Join me in the kitchen?”

“You always let me get cozy and then make me move,” Alex grumbles dramatically. But then he turns his head to press a kiss against Jack’s shoulder before moving his legs. “But yes, I will.”

They shuffle into the kitchen and Alex immediately pushes himself up onto the counter. He opens a cabinet and studies the mugs inside for a moment before pulling out a blue one with a painted picture of a horse across the side. He hands the mug over to Jack after he returns from the fridge with the carton of half-and-half.

“Looks a little bit like Theo.” Jack observes as he lifts the pot from the coffee maker.

“I know,” Alex sighs, his legs swinging a bit and tapping out a steady beat that matches whatever song is softly playing from the radio in the corner against the cabinets with his heels. “It’s why I like that one. I miss my boy.”

Jack smiles as he drops a hand on Alex’s thigh closest to him while he stirs a spoonful of sugar into his coffee. Alex’s hand moves to rest over Jack’s and he can’t help but wonder how even when there’s still snow falling just beyond the window over the sink Alex is still so warm. It’s like the sun is somehow always shining down onto him.

“We’ll be back at the farm in a couple days and you can love him up for a little bit before we gotta get back out there,” Jack says before taking a sip from his mug. He hums at the taste and the perfect temperature of the brew. Perfect cup of coffee for a perfect morning, he figures.

He moves then to stand between Alex’s legs, the hand not holding the handle of the mug reaching up to wrap around his waist. Alex responds by letting his arms hang over Jack’s shoulders, one of his hands tapping out a rhythm against the back of his neck. They’re quiet for a bit, just smiling like fools at each other and Jack isn’t sure if it’s been ten seconds or ten hours when Alex sighs again before speaking.

“God, I love you,” he shakes his head just slightly as though in disbelief of something. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Jack pulls his hand up to cup Alex’s cheek, his smile pulling further across his face when he watches a light blush paint across his boy’s nose. “And I love you,” he says while tracing his thumb over Alex’s cheek. “Thank you for joining me out here. It’s a nice spot.”

“We’ll have to come back here again. I think this could be a special place for us.” Alex says in his most casual voice, the weight of his words on Jack’s love-drunk mind likely not obvious from the look he returns the words with.

But in his mind images swirl all around like the way the dusty snow dances in the wind just beyond the walls of the little house. He sees them in pajamas, him on one knee, tears in both their eyes when he finally gives up on waiting for another picture-perfect moment and just asks. He sees rows of chairs in a fresh snow in the spot behind the house begging to be used for such an event and their friends and family crying along with them this time. He sees the two of them, years from now, sitting on the old leather couch in the living room, watching the first snow of the season with coffee from the shop they’ll keep stopping at on their way out, talking about what it felt like to first fall in love.

And then Jack blinks and all he can see is the warm tone of Alex’s eyes accompanying a curious smile as his fingers tangle around the hair at the back of Jack’s neck. Jack turns from his gaze and lets his lips press against the warm skin on the inside of Alex’s wrist before returning to the eyes he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life continuing to get lost in.

“I think so, too.”

#jalex #jalex fic #we love winter fluff FOLKS #i really really like this one not gonna lie #esp the ending #i love a hilariously dramatic ending when writing these two #i think i've married them off like 3 or 4 times now

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somerandr · 4 years ago

Text

royalty

Maddie lets out another dramatic sigh, huffing a little when Sophie and Jack both ignore her in favor of oohing and ahhing over the stories Lizzie has begun meticulously typing out and collecting in a leather bound binder. On one hand, Maddie gets their distraction. Her brother-in-law had never quite seen Lizzie the same way Maddie does, always knowing her as the big sister he couldn’t ever really relate to, the big sister he tended to see more as a parental figure than a sibling, creating an insurmountable distance between them. And her best friend just likes to be annoying—a talent of hers since they were in middle school.

On the other hand, Maddie has something to get off her chest and, dammit, she needs Sophie and Jack to pay attention.

She sighs again, louder this time, placing her mug of coffee on the table with a little more force than strictly necessary. It has its desired effect: Sophie looks up in concern, clearly thinking Maddie has dropped the mug, and Jack moves as if to act as Maddie’s support beam.

(The first few weeks of this sort of behavior from her best friend and her brother-in-law had been frustrating and grated on her nerves. But now she appreciates that they’re here, sitting with her, acting as de facto babysitters while Lizzie is out.

To be perfectly honest, Maddie appreciates not being alone.)

“What’s up, Maddie Bear?” Sophie asks, head tilted to the side as she closes the binder with a satisfying thump. “Annoyed we’re more interested in the stories than you?”

“First of all, as if anything could be more interesting than me,” Maddie says with a faux self-aggrandizing air. “Secondly, don’t call me that. We’re not in high school anymore.”

“It’s always like high school when I’m with you, Mads,” Sophie sings, shoving Jack aside and wrapping her arms around Maddie’s shoulders, giving her an awkward hug from the side. “But seriously, what’s up?”

Now that Sophie and Jack are looking at her patiently, but expectantly, Maddie feels her mouth go dry. She doesn’t want to admit this to them, doesn’t want to show them that it bothers her—and yet, she needs to tell someone or she thinks she’ll combust.

“Evie called,” she mumbles after several beats, looking down at her hands. She feels Sophie drop her arms and pull back, and though she doesn’t look, she knows Sophie and Jack are wearing identical expressions of a mixture of disgust and anger.

“What’s Evil doing calling you?” Sophie hisses, and when Maddie looks up at her, her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, lips pressed into a thin line. Jack, on the other hand, looks like he’s turned to stone, unable to move at all.

“Apparently, she heard the news about me. Wanted to make sure she um, expressed her sadness,” Maddie mumbles, using air quotes around the latter part of her comment, still thinking about the sickly-sweet voice of Evie Cummings and how much she wishes she could have reached through the phone and punched Evie in her perfectly made up face. “She told me I didn’t need to worry about Elizabeth.”

(This is what’s got her so mad, not the fact that Evie called, but that she figured it would be okay to slowly explain to Maddie that Lizzie would be taken care of, ‘in cough cough, the worst kind of situation.’

Maddie’s not jealous.

At least, she doesn’t think so.)

“I don’t understand this whole staying friends with the ex thing,” Jack says, running his fingers through his hair and dropping into the chair next to Maddie, his legs stretched out in front of him as he slouches. He looks a lot like his sister, but his hair is darker, and his manner is more airy. Where Jack is quick with a smile, Lizzie is content to merely quirk her lips.

(Except for if it’s at her.

Lizzie will always smile at her.)

“I agree,” Sophie says darkly, her eyes narrowed as if she’s already planning something nefarious. “Evil needs to go.”

“She’s Elizabeth’s friend,” Maddie argues weakly, not quite able to believe her own words. Lizzie had met and dated Evie in what she still calls ‘a dark time’ in her life. The fact that Evie helped her through it—that she had been there through long nights and eased Lizzie through panic attacks—meant that Evie had a permanent place in Lizzie’s life, even if Maddie and Evie had made their mutual dislike of one another well-known.

“Right,” Jack laughs, flicking his head so that his hair would fall perfectly on his forehead, giving Sophie a wink as she rolls his eyes at his antics. “And you stayed friends with that baseball player, huh Mads? What was his name again?” Jack asks in faux confusion, tapping a finger against his chin. “Darren? Derek? Daniel,” he stresses, flicking his hair again, smiling at Maddie as he stretches out Daniel’s name.

“It’s different,” Maddie says, waving him off, but Sophie sighs dreamily before shaking her head.

“And everyday I think it’s just tragic that you didn't keep him around for me. Your best friend. How could you, Maddie Bear?”

Maddie blushes, glaring at Sophie and Jack as they chuckle at her embarrassment.

“Can we get back to the point?” she asks weakly, two seconds away from banging her head against the kitchen table. She’s sure that won’t go over well with Lizzie; Sophie and Jack would get fired from babysitting duty the second Lizzie notices the bruise.

“Wasn’t the point that Evie is a she-devil? Because Jack and I are in full agreement on that front,” Sophie says, picking up Maddie’s mug and taking a sip before wincing at the cold, bitter coffee. “You’re really letting yourself go, babe,” she mutters, stalking over to the sink and emptying the coffee out. “Drinking bitter coffee and letting yourself become more bitter over the she-devil?” She turns and leans against the counter, arms crossed over her chest and Maddie’s mug hanging from the handle on her index finger. “It’s not like you.”

“Well, a lot of things aren’t like me. Like not going to work and spending all day watching daytime dramas. I don’t even like daytime dramas.”

“Don’t knock it, Mads,” Jack says, hand over his heart. “I for one am very invested in the bold and the beautiful—after all, I’m both bold and beautiful, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Maddie laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’re a regular Prince Charming, Jack.”

“I’m gone for half a day and I come back to you flirting with my brother?” comes a voice down the hall and the sound of keys being tossed into a bowl, announcing Lizzie’s arrival. “What has the world come to?” she asks as she steps into view, first pressing a quick kiss to Maddie’s lips before hugging Sophie and Jack.

“I admit it,” Maddie jokes, grinning when Hamlet gets off his bed, stretches, and pads slowly over, sticking his head in Maddie’s lap. “It was a surprise to me too.”

“Surprise?” Jack exclaims, mouth dropping open. “Madeline, you and I were always meant to be.”

“You’re right, if only you were four years older and less beautiful. It could’ve been a match made in heaven.”

“Way to aim for a man’s heart, Mads,” Jack sighs, keeping a stoic expression even as Sophie chortles away. Lizzie shrugs off her jacket and tosses it into Jack’s face.

“Stop flirting with my wife, dork,” she says, eyes narrowed. “And Maddie, stop encouraging him.”

“Oh, but we’re meant to be, Liz,” Maddie laughs, “would you really get in the way of love?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Pick on me, that’s fine,” Lizzie mutters, unable to help the smile that forms on her lips.

(It’s a startlingly normal moment. Maddie and Jack are teasing Lizzie like always. Sophie makes sure to throw in her own joke like always.

It’s almost easy to forget that Sophie’s hands are shaking as she pours Maddie a fresh cup of coffee, that Jack never strays too far when Maddie gets up to grab Hamlet a snack, that Lizzie watches apprehensively—as if waiting for something, a shoe to drop.

It’s a normal moment. And Maddie breathes it in, wants to keep it as long as possible.

It’s likely why she speaks up.)

“I have a story,” she announces to the others, feeling a little shaky on her feet, not minding when Jack subtly takes her by the elbow and leads her back to the table. “Want to hear it?”

“I do, but I better be in this one,” Sophie says, raising her eyebrows.

“I was promised dinner, so I’m in,” Jack adds with a shrug. “I’m not going anywhere till I’ve been fed.”

Lizzie helps Maddie sit down, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple.

“I want to hear everything you have to say, Madeline,” she says softly, eyes crinkling as she smiles.

And in that moment, Maddie feels a little bit warmer as she looks at her friends, and swears she falls just a bit more in love with her wife.

XxX

She’s busy polishing boots when she hears stomping from the stairs and Ser Evie enters the armory with her hair pointing in every direction, sweat beading on her forehead, and her chest heaving.

“Prince Jack has fallen in love!” she cries excitedly, shoving past Maddie roughly, and grabbing Ser Fredericks by the shoulders and shaking him. “Do you know what this means?”

“Weeks of celebration with lots and lots of mead?” Fredericks says hopefully, shifting in his chair. Maddie doesn’t think she’s ever actually seen him get off the chair, though she’s heard the stories of his incredible, heroic past—how he was born a peasant but was knighted because he saved the King’s life, how at only eighteen, he’d led the King’s army into glorious battle and emerged victorious. No one mentions that at a certain point war and rank seemed to pale in comparison to a good bottle of mead.

Though, as an overworked, underappreciated squire, Maddie can see the appeal of a good bottle of mead.

“Stop fooling around,” Evie snaps at Fredericks, glaring at him as he shifts again in his chair, clearly feeling off-balanced. “This is serious.”

Fredericks doesn’t look very serious—in fact, he seems terribly amused.

“And why is that exactly, Ser Evie?” he asks, stroking his beard. Maddie nearly gags when he finds some pheasant still stuck in it from lunch and pops it into his mouth with a giddy expression. “Is it because you think with Jack out of the way you can finally win Princess Elizabeth’s heart?” He laughs heartily at his own joke, clearly finding himself outrageously humorous. “Somehow I doubt Prince Jack will cease being a protective younger brother just because he’s fallen in love.”

“He’s distracted,” Evie huffs, tossing her cloak in Maddie’s general direction, followed by her boots and arm braces, not looking to see the spectacular balancing act Maddie pulls off in order to catch all the items. Maddie’s so busy congratulating herself on not looking stupid that she doesn’t notice the sword and scabbard coming her way—the hilt of the sword rams hard into Maddie’s hip, the shock of pain causing her to drop the items in her arms, and she curses under her breath as both Evie and Fredericks deign to look over at her, the former with disgust and the latter with poorly concealed mirth. “Can you carry out your duties in a more silent manner?” Evie snaps, giving Maddie a glare for good measure before turning her attention back to Fredericks. “My point is that Elizabeth will have more time to herself—time she could be spending with me, a knight of her father’s court.”

“Princess Elizabeth,” Maddie mumbles as she gathers Evie’s things once more. She leaves the armory just as Evie launches into the story the other knights and squires have heard hundreds of times before: Evie was there for Elizabeth after the Queen died, Evie soothed Elizabeth’s fears and wiped away her tears, Evie was the one who got her to smile again.

It’s the reason she was knighted—the King had taken one look at the smile on Elizabeth’s lips, a smile that had not graced the kingdom for two winters, and had immediately proclaimed that the one who elicited it was to be rewarded in any which way they chose. Evie chose knighthood, “to better serve the kingdom and the Princess” and of course, it had been the talk of court for months.

Elizabeth and her knight in shining armor, Evie, are meant to be—everyone knows it, from the cooks to the handmaidens to the measly squire who huffs her hair out of her eyes as she lugs Evie’s things to her quarters.

Maddie doesn’t know the princess, doesn’t care to know her, but she feels a bit sorry for her. After all, Maddie wouldn’t wish Evie on her worst enemy, let alone the well-loved princess.

“You look like you’re about to topple over,” Ser Sophie says, falling into step next to Maddie, grinning as she walks, one hand on the pommel of her sword, the other hidden beneath her cloak.

“You could always help,” Maddie points out, and though Sophie makes a big show of struggling and huffing, she does eventually grab the sword that’s slipping out of Maddie’s hands.

“You’re in a worse mood than usual,” Sophie says conversationally as they cross the courtyard, Evie’s sword scabbard dragging along the ground between them, Sophie clearly not caring about her fellow knight’s property, “does this mean Ser Evie has already bragged about her plans to woo the good Princess?”

“In detail, unfortunately,” Maddie says, grinning when that gets a loud laugh from Sophie.

(She’s always liked Sophie—liked the humor, liked the long, dark hair that’s always braided, liked the fact that she’s always cool under pressure, and the fact that her nose is slightly crooked from the time Fredericks accidentally broke it, liked the fact that even on a day as warm as this one, Sophie seems unaffected and comfortable in her chainmail and leather.

She especially likes the fact that Sophie has been kind, from the day they met, expecting absolutely nothing in return.)

“How about I cheer you up and buy you a few drinks at the tavern when you’re done polishing Evie’s boots?”

“You only want me there because I keep you out of trouble,” Maddie says with a roll of her eyes. “And if I polish Evie’s boots any more than I have, she’ll give Narcissus a run for his money.”

“Don’t be so bitter, Madeline. Look on the bright side, if Evie marries the good Princess, she’ll be out of our hair forever. And you may finally be knighted.” She emphasizes her point with a pat on Maddie’s shoulder, but she underestimates her own strength and the weight of her armor, because the pat nearly sends Maddie sprawling to the ground.

“That’s a good point,” Maddie muses as she pulls herself up. “Though I don’t need to be knighted, I’ll be happy with just not seeing Evie every single day.” They finally reach Evie’s quarters as she finishes her comment, and she misses Sophie’s contemplative look as she throws the door open and lugs Evie’s things into her room, setting them up for the following morning when Maddie would have to get up at the crack of dawn to help Evie get dressed.

“Come on,” Sophie says cheerfully as Maddie takes one last look at Evie’s quarters, wanting to make sure nothing is out of place, “I owe you a drink.”

“You owe me more than one,” Maddie says with a laugh, dodging the lighthearted punch Sophie sends her way.

“Let’s go, O Brave Squire. You’ve earned yourself a break.”

They don’t get their break.

By the time they make their way to the nearest tavern, Sophie is summoned to the palace “on urgent business” along with every other knight and squire within fifty miles of the palace. Left with nothing to do with herself, Maddie pulls her cloak tighter around herself, dons the hood, and sets out for beyond the city walls.

Before becoming a squire, she rarely spent any time at all outside the city walls, she had no reason to. Everything she wanted, her family, her home, her friends, were within the safety of the city, nestled right outside the sprawling palace grounds. But then the sickness came, everything she loved was lost (gone, along with the Queen), and Maddie became a squire and took to hiding out in the woods beyond the city.

For a moment to breathe. For a break, for a chance to lay on her back and stare up at the sky and dream of leaving and never looking back.

It’s become somewhat of a habit now. Any free moment, any moment that was hers and hers entirely, she drops everything, pulls up the hood of her cloak, and disappears into the trees. Always, it’s very quiet and still, giving her a chance to complain under her breath about Evie, not worrying about being overheard.

(It’s the solitude, she thinks. She just craves it.

She’s almost glad of the urgent business that allows her to do this instead of spending the night at the tavern.)

And for a moment, barely a second or two really, she gets that silence and solitude she so craves, before she’s rudely interrupted by a grunt, a mumbled curse, and then a heavy sigh. Maddie pulls out the dagger she hides at her belt, presses her back against the nearest tree, and peers towards the source of the sound, the ragged breathing, the fairly aggressive footsteps.

“Come on, Hamlet,” says a surprisingly gentle and pretty voice, though its owner is clearly harried and stressed, “we need to go.”

Maddie takes a small step, making sure to still have her back against the tree, and she cranes her head. Several feet away, only partially obscured by the trees, is a girl. Not any girl, but the most beautiful girl Maddie has ever set eyes on: her long blonde hair almost looks white in the moonlight, her lips curved into a tiny smile despite the furrow of her brow every time she’s unable to tug Hamlet—a massive, black horse—any further.

Maddie doesn’t need the royal insignia on the horse’s saddle or the beautiful, expensive dress the girl is wearing to immediately recognize exactly who has stumbled in on her moment of peace and quiet.

The Princess, Elizabeth herself.

(Now, Maddie is nothing but a lowly squire, but she’s been lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the princess thrice before. First, soon after she became a squire, she’d quite literally run into the princess, both of them tumbling to the ground. She’d gotten quite an earful from Evie that day, and soon after, Evie was knighted. The second time, it was from a distance during the ceremony knighting the newest members of the King’s court. And the last time was merely weeks ago, from across the courtyard, somehow managing to earn a tiny smile and a small wave before Princess Elizabeth was swept away by one of her attendants.

Every time, seeing the princess in person had been heart stopping. This time is no different.)

Without really thinking about it, Maddie slides her knife back in its sheath then puts her hands up in a non-threatening gesture, and approaches the princess.

“I’m so sorry—” Maddie tries, immediately cut off by the neighing of the horse, who then pulls back on its hind legs, shocking the princess into letting go of the reins.

What happens next goes by so quickly that Maddie would later be sure she’d hallucinated the whole thing. One minute, the princess looks up at her horse in horror, clearly sure she’s about to be trampled, and the next, Maddie has tackled the princess to the ground, rolling them a safe distance away, ending up straddling the other girl, arms braced on either side of her head.

“Are you all right?”

“Get off me,” the princess shouts, managing to land a remarkably precise blow onto Maddie’s face as they scramble about. She stumbles off the princess, tasting blood, but ignores the pain radiating from the right side of her face and instead stumbles over to the horse, urging it to calm down.

“I’m so sorry,” Maddie says as Hamlet lets out an aggressive breath, but allows Maddie to rub his neck. “I didn’t mean to frighten either one of you.” She turns to look at the princess, making sure to keep her eyes averted. “I’m so sorry for knocking you down, Princess.”

She chances a single look at the princess’ face, watching as she casts her eyes up and down, pausing briefly on the insignia on her bag.

“You’re from the palace,” the princess finally says, a bit tonelessly, as she gets to her feet and shakes off the leaves stuck to her dress and hair. “You’re new. But you found me rather quickly, so you must not be useless. What’s your name, knight?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

This makes the princess blink and even share a look with her horse, shockingly enough letting out whinny and shaking its head—as if it is disappointed with Maddie. “You don’t know what names are?”

“I think you’ve got it wrong, Princess,” Maddie says quickly, finally catching on to the fact that there’s quite a bit going on in the palace she’s clearly not privy to. “I’m not a knight. I’m just a squire. And I, um, wasn’t looking for you. In fact, technically, you found me.”

The princess eyes her suspiciously. “You’re not a knight?” she questions, as if she doesn’t really want to believe it.

“No, Princess.”

“And you weren’t sent by my brother to look for me?”

“No, Princess. I didn’t know you were even in need of finding.”

“So if I just...got on Hamlet and left. You’d what? Let me?”

It’s Maddie’s turn to blink. “It’s not really my place to let you do anything, Princess. I wouldn’t try to stop you, if that’s what you’re asking. If anything, I’d just follow you.”

“Follow me?”

“Of course, your highness. There’s no honor in watching the princess venture out into the woods on her own. I’d accompany you at the very least.”

This response is not what the princess was expecting, because her eyes widen a bit, and she steps forward, close enough that she tugs the horse’s reins out of Maddie’s hands. “And if I told you I want to leave and never come back? Would you still follow me then?”

Maddie doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, Princess.”

“Interesting,” the princess mumbles, head slightly tilted to the side as she studies Maddie. There’s a beat, then she bends a bit at the knees, ducking to catch Maddie’s gaze. “I know you,” she says slowly. “You’re the squire Evie hates so much.” Maddie swallows, unable to speak when the princess’ brown eyes—her beautiful brown eyes—are so focused on her. “Madeline, right?”

“I’m honored that the princess knows who I am,” Maddie mumbles, breaking eye contact. This, for whatever reason, makes the princess chuckle, and she basically takes Maddie’s breath away when she pats her on the shoulder.

“Don’t be silly.” She looks like she’s about to say more, but at that moment, they both turn their heads at the sound of pounding hooves and shouts of ‘Princess!’ coming from the distance. “Ah, well. I suppose they’ve found me. Thanks to you, really,” she adds, narrowing her eyes at her horse playfully. She lets the horse press its muzzle to her cheek in an apparent apology, letting out a soft laugh, then tugs on the reins, pulling the horse back in the direction of the palace. She pauses after a few feet, and looks back at Maddie. “I have a feeling we’ll see much more of each other, Madeline,” she says. “So please, stop with all the princess nonsense. It’s just Lizzie to you.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, which is a good thing. It takes nearly a quarter of an hour before Maddie can even move again, unrooting herself with a tiny smile and a whispered Lizzie.

Soon enough, Maddie becomes rather sure she imagined the whole interaction with the princess.

Days pass by with no indication she even ran into the jewel of the royal family. No one glares at her accusingly for tackling the princess to the hard forest floor, no one comments on the way she goes about her work for Evie without a single complaint (too full of some sort of rush from the princess’ order to call her Lizzie), no one even mentions the awful black eye Maddie is sporting.

(In fact, it’s the black eye—and the view of it she gets every time she polishes Evie’s armor—that gives her a bit of hope that she isn’t crazy. The pain is a reminder that, yes, she did meet Elizabeth, and yes, the princess knew her name.)

But, enough days pass that Maddie—deflating all at once—finally begins to accept that she’d gotten her hopes up, had thought there was more to Princess Elizabeth’s ‘we’ll see more of each other’ comment than there actually was, and finds herself accepting she isn’t going to be seeing the princess at all.

And, just as soon as the thought enters her head, she runs into the princess, nearly knocking them both to the ground.

“I’m starting to think this is just how you say hello,” Elizabeth tells her, letting out a laugh as Maddie struggles between wanting to help balance the princess and not wanting to offend her by touching her without permission (again).

“I’m so sorry, Princess, I—”

“—thought we agreed it was just Lizzie,” Elizabeth finishes for her, raising an eyebrow when Maddie gathers the courage to look straight at her instead of a point above her head.

“Well, agreed may be somewhat of a stretch,” Maddie says without thinking, horrified when the words register with her brain, her hand coming up and covering her mouth. “Sorry, I just meant—”

“—look. I want you to pretend I’m one of your friends,” Elizabeth says, reaching out and curling her fingers around Maddie’s wrist, tugging her hand away from her mouth. “Then, soon enough, you won’t be pretending.”

Maddie takes in a deep breath, shaking her head. “Are you sure you want to be friends with me, Pri—Lizzie,” she corrects, a little blinded by the grin Elizabeth shoots her at her correction.

“I think the real question is if you’d even want to be friends with me,” she says after a moment, tugging on Maddie’s hand gently, pulling her towards the palace. “You see, I told my brother about our run in, and he insists on speaking with you.”

“Am I in trouble?” Maddie asks worriedly, swallowing hard as they walk through the entrance hall and towards the throne room.

(It’s common knowledge that the King is king only in name, that he has been since his wife died years ago. All official business was up to the King, but the day to day managing of the kingdom?

That’s been left to Jack and Elizabeth for as long as Maddie can remember.)

“Trouble? No, I don’t think so,” Elizabeth says, the answer not inspiring much confidence even as she pushes the doors to the throne room wide open. Maddie pauses, unable to help it, her eyes drawn to the red and gold rugs and banners, the ornate table where the royal family took their meals, the massive throne itself—situated on a dais at the very end of the hall. “Come on, Madeline,” Elizabeth tells her softly, shifting her grip from Maddie’s wrist to her elbow, and gently pulling her forward.

Maddie’s heart pounds quickly and loudly in her chest, giving rise to the sudden, stupid thought that she was quite close to passing out in front of the royal family, but before she can voice her fears to Elizabeth, her brother Jack gets up from where he’s seated at the table, making quick strides towards the two of them.

“Ah! My lovely, adventuring sister and her rescuer arrive!”

“Rescuer?” Maddie mumbles.

Elizabeth elbows her a bit, actually winking when Maddie turns to her. “I may have embellished the story about our meeting. Leave the talking to me, yeah?” she adds in a whisper before turning to her brother with a wide smile. “Jack, we agreed you wouldn’t be too effusive with your praise, you’re going to make the poor girl uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, you’re absolutely right,” Jack says, coming to a stop as he reaches them, grabbing Maddie by the shoulder before she has a chance to bow. “None of that, not for you. The woman who saved my sister’s life doesn’t bow to anyone.”

“Sorry?” Maddie asked, unable to help it. Elizabeth, from over Jack’s shoulder, made a face at Maddie, even going as far as sticking her tongue out.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Madeline,” Elizabeth said, refocusing her brother’s attention on her. “She’s such a joker, pretending she doesn’t remember saving me after Hamlet got spooked by a snake. The way she raced into the woods after us...it was quite brave.”

Maddie, who was there and knows this is not true, keeps her mouth shut, giving Elizabeth and Jack a tight smile when they both turn to her.

“My sister has tried to run away four times,” Jack tells Maddie slowly, and Maddie mentally corrects him, thinking five times, actually. “It was a relief, to say the least, that this latest...outing...was not planned.” He lets out a sigh, bracing his hands on either side of his waist, tilting his head back. “After your service to our family, the appropriate thing would be to offer you a reward, not ask more of you. But I am busy preparing for my wedding, and Lizzie seems to have taken a liking to you, so I would be grateful if you allow me to delay your knighthood and instead act as a companion for my sister after her traumatic experience.”

“What my little brother means,” Elizabeth says cheerfully, “is that he wants you to babysit me, because he can’t right now.”

“No,” Jack says, shaking his head and looking at Maddie seriously, as if needing her to believe him. “My sister doesn’t need a babysitter. She’s to be Queen. What she needs is protection from, well, undesirable presences.”

“He’s talking about Evie,” Elizabeth explains helpfully, confusing Maddie with the lack of argument on her end. It’s almost as if she wants a babysitter.

Jack turns to his sister, hands in his hair now. “Lizzie, you know she—”

“—I’m really sorry, but is this something I should be privy to? I’m just, you know, a squire.”

“No, you’re right,” Jack says, as if coming to himself all at once. “The reasons don’t matter. So? Can I count on you?” he asks, waiting for Maddie’s nod before letting out a little sigh of relief. “Good, good. Excellent,” he says, more to himself than to Maddie.

And later, long after he’s gone, after one of Elizabeth’s handmaidens has shown Maddie her new quarters (right next to the princess’) and laid out new clothes, Elizabeth confesses why she didn’t put up an argument, why she merely went along with Jack’s request, the real reason she wants Maddie around:

“You’re going to help me run away a sixth time.”

Elizabeth lays under the shade of a tree several days later, head pillowed by Maddie’s leg, a book abandoned on her chest.

“We should talk about it,” Maddie says, breaking the silence. It being Elizabeth’s desire to run away and use Maddie to do it, something she’s been mum about since her confession. Instead, she’d busied their days with fitting Maddie in nicer clothes, dragging her to lessons, even having her teach the little she knew about swinging a sword.

Elizabeth sighs, but she doesn’t move, and Maddie resists the urge to smooth back the princess’ hair, to trace a finger from her brow to her hairline. “I don’t want to be Queen.”

“Then why don’t you just say so?”

“It’s not something you just don’t accept,” she says, and she turns her head, the tip of her nose pressed against Maddie’s knee. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet, I thought you said you’d follow me anywhere.”

“Yes, follow you anywhere. But I won’t help you run away if I don’t even know why.”

This makes Elizabeth sit up, book falling onto the grass and opening to a random page, twisting to look at Maddie with narrowed eyes. “You can’t talk like that, you know, I am the princess.”

“You told me to pretend you’re my friend. That’s how I’d talk to my friends,” Maddie informs her, wishing she didn’t miss Elizabeth’s warmth already. To her surprise, this response makes Elizabeth smile.

“I’d have to get married if I wanted to be Queen. And I don’t want to get married.”

“Why? It’s not as if you’ve got any shortage of suitors.” Maddie sighs as she spots one of them in the distance. “Look. Here comes one now.” She starts to get up, to give Elizabeth privacy, but before she can, there’s a hand on hers, holding on tightly.

“Stay,” Elizabeth requests softly, and Maddie settles back down, powerless to say no, and realizing with a start she doesn’t want to say no.

(She stays, enduring Evie’s glares and dirty looks.

She stays, knowing Evie will get her payback later.

She stays, and it’s worth it, because Elizabeth has tangled their fingers together, and doesn’t seem keen on letting go any time soon.)

“If you run away, where will you go?” Maddie asks several days later.

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it.”

“Do you think you’ll miss your brother? Your home? Your people?”

“I’ve tried not to think about that.”

“What if you fall in love? Will you marry then and take the crown?”

“I’m not worried about me falling in love, Madeline. My issue is how will I ever know if the person I love loves me for me and not for what they can get from me?”

“Well,” Maddie jokes, “I guess you could always just ask them to run away with you and see what they say.”

As the weeks go on, Maddie learns quite a bit about the princess.

For one, she never eats breakfast, claiming that she’d rather start her day with several cups of tea. For another, Elizabeth hates the long, flowy dresses that she and the other women of court have to wear, and has—with increasing frequency—donned the pants and billowy shirts that Maddie prefers. But most importantly, Maddie learns that Elizabeth loves the library and spends nearly all her time there.

And it’s unbearably boring.

She rocks her chair back, feet on the table, staring at the ceiling with her hands folded over her stomach, dangerously close to dozing off when Elizabeth speaks up.

“I’m not interested in Evie, you know,” she says, shocking Maddie enough that she drops her chair back down too quickly, legs falling to the floor with a thud that sounds impossibly loud in the quiet of the library.

“Oh,” Maddie says stupidly, not quite sure what else to say. The thing is, it’s complicated.

She likes Elizabeth. Perhaps more than she should, definitely more than is appropriate. She knows, without a doubt, her feelings will not be returned (they can’t be, she’s a squire and Elizabeth is a princess). More importantly, Elizabeth’s feelings for Evie are absolutely none of her business. Except...well, except that Maddie doesn’t dislike many people but she absolutely dislikes Evie and there’s no doubt in her mind that Evie is incredibly wrong for Elizabeth.

(There is the unhelpful part of her that, head-bowed, quietly suggests maybe there is someone else more—

More right.)

But again, it’s none of her business.

“My brother doesn’t like her either, don’t worry. But Evie...she was there. She was there when I was—”

“—you don’t have to tell me this.”

“I know. I want to,” Elizabeth says, closing her book with a resounding snap, shifting in her chair enough that they’re staring directly at each other. Maddie tries her best not to let her pleasure at those three words show on her expression, but she thinks, judging by Elizabeth’s smile, she’s not quite successful. “Evie saved me,” she continues, letting out a deep breath. “And ever since then, it’s like...she just wants to keep doing the saving. She wants to swoop in, to be my knight in shining armor.”

“That’s romantic,” Maddie says, not believing it, and hating that she’s defending Evie when all she wants to do is agree with Elizabeth and tell her that Evie isn’t worth her time.

Elizabeth gives Maddie a look that clearly says she knows exactly what Maddie is thinking. “I don’t want a knight in shining armor, Madeline. I don’t want someone who wants to come and save my day. I just….”

“Just?” Maddie prods, literally on the edge of her seat, waiting for Elizabeth to finish her sentence.

“Perhaps this is silly, but I just want someone who just wants to be. To sit with me in the dry, boring moments. Someone who just wants to be with me. Someone like—” She cuts herself off, clears her throat and shakes her head. “Well, it doesn’t matter. You and I are running away after all.”

“I haven’t agreed to that, actually,” Maddie says absentmindedly, trying to calm her racing heart. For a moment, just a second, she’d thought Elizabeth was about to...well, it doesn’t matter.

Elizabeth reaches out, fingers circling around one of Maddie’s wrists. “But if I tried to leave?”

“I’d follow you,” Maddie says easily, with no hesitation at all. “If only to keep you out of trouble.”

Elizabeth smiles, her eyes soft. “Now see. That’s what I mean.”

The wedding is only days away when Maddie bursts into Elizabeth’s rooms, laden with bags. Her dramatic entrance isn’t quite given the reaction she’s looking for, only causing Elizabeth to look up from the letter she’s writing and eye Maddie with amusement. “Lost, Madeline?” she asks, eyes flicking from Maddie’s face to all the bags.

“I’ve thought about it and thought about it and thought about it, and I realized...why am I thinking about it at all?” Maddie says, dropping the bags and approaching Elizabeth, dropping to her knees in front of her.

“What are we talking about?”

“You wanting to run away.” Maddie holds out a hand, palm up, trying not to smile when Elizabeth takes it almost immediately. “I kept wanting to know why but it doesn’t matter. If you want to go, you should be able to go. So I made a plan.”

Elizabeth blinks. “You made a plan?” she repeats, almost dazedly.

“I gathered supplies,” she gestures towards the bags, “got Sophie’s help with distracting guards at the gates so no one can warn your brother or the knights, even trained Hamlet not to freak out in the woods—”

“—is that where you’ve been going in the afternoons lately?” Elizabeth interrupts, but Maddie is on a roll.

“So just say the word. If you want to go, we go. I’ve sent letters ahead to friends, so we’ll have someplace to go, or we can just travel and explore. Or if you want to stay, get married to Evie,” here she physically has to keep herself from gagging, “I can help with that too. I can talk with her about being less intense maybe or—”

“—you’re such an idiot, Madeline,” Elizabeth breathes out, and that’s all the warning Maddie gets before Elizabeth is leaning forward, hands cupping Maddie’s face, and kisses her. “The only thing I want,” she says softly as she pulls away, and Maddie is quite shocked she’s still able to speak when she’s just taken Maddie’s breath away, “is you. Wasn’t that obvious?”

“It is now,” Maddie manages to say, and this time, she’s the one who closes the distance between them, bags and plans and thoughts of running away all forgotten.

XxX

“And in the end,” Maddie finishes, gesticulating wildly with her hands, “the princess marries the squire and doesn’t spare the dumb knight a single thought ever again.”

Silence follows her words, Lizzie’s hand rubbing a gentle pattern into her back while Sophie and Jack merely blink at her for a moment.

“That was fantastic,” Jack finally says, struggling not to smile. “I’m actually a little shocked Evie didn’t find herself stuck in a well or something for all time, cursed forever.”

“That’s the sequel,” Maddie says, allowing Lizzie to burrow her face into her neck, running her fingers through her wife’s hair. “Part two coming soon.”

Sophie lets out a loud snort, getting to her feet and stretching. “Well, I think it’s adorable that the two of you write fanfiction about your own lives,” she says brightly, smiling to ensure there’s no bite to her words. “I for one am just glad to be included, in all fairness. Maybe a bit more next time, though. My part was tragically small.”

“They’re love stories, Soph, you’re not supposed to be involved,” Lizzie mumbles from where her face is still pressed against Maddie’s neck. Both Jack and Sophie protest jokingly at that, carrying the faux outrage even as they gather their things and wave goodbye to leave.

When they’re alone, Lizzie pulls away and smooths back Maddie’s hair, pressing a light kiss to her forehead and lingering there.

“I’d always choose you, you know,” she whispers, ducking her head so that their foreheads are pressed together. “In this life or any other. No one else comes close.”

(It’s sweet and nice and Maddie likes to hear the way Lizzie’s mouth curls over the words, the way she lingers on choose and you. Maddie likes the way that Lizzie knows to reassure her without knowing about Evie’s call or Maddie’s annoyance.

She likes that Lizzie knows her.)

“But it’s nice to know you’ve got a backup, huh?” Maddie jokes, lacing her fingers between Lizzie’s, unable to help her smile when Lizzie uses her free hand to hook a finger through a belt loop and tug Maddie closer. “In case things between us don’t work out?”

“Well, it never hurts to be prepared,” Lizzie says with a laugh, her free hand now at Maddie’s chin, thumb brushing her jawline. Her expression turns serious. “You know I love you, right? Just you.”

“Gasp! What about Hamlet and Macbeth?”

“Madeline,” Lizzie stresses, her hand moving to the back of Maddie’s neck, thumb now brushing under her ear. “I’m being serious.”

Maddie drops her head onto Lizzie’s shoulder, sighing into the feeling of her wife’s hand in her own, the other lightly massaging the back of her neck.

“I know. In this life or any other, I’d choose you too.” She pauses, pressing her free hand to Lizzie’s back, running her fingers up Lizzie’s spine slowly. “Though, my backup is Jack. I think you need to know.”

Lizzie pulls away with a start as Maddie laughs.

“Come on, Maddie, way to ruin the moment.”

“No! Come back!” Maddie cries between her laughter, watching as Lizzie huffs indignantly and grabs Hamlet’s leash, causing the dog to begin trotting around the kitchen excitedly. “Don’t go! Don’t take the children because of this,” she adds, kneeling down and hugging Hamlet lightly, grimacing and giggling when he manages to lick the entire right side of her face.

And Lizzie, seemingly unable to help it, laughs along.

#fun fact: this does not constitute endorsement of staying friends with exes except if you want fic from them #which haha suckers i just got a 7k from this one #somerandr #origfic #5

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mail-me-a-snail · 5 years ago

Text

House Keys

chase…oh chase i love you so but you’re in for it now. chase brody, the former bro average superstar, comes home for the first time in a year.

part 1 part 2 part 3 Even if Chase Brody had moved out the year prior, he still has the keys to his brothers’ house. He stands now on the crisp, green lawn and swings the key-chain around. He cards a hand through his hair and rubs his eyes—he doesn’t get much sleep these days. Three years before he moved into his brothers’ house, he was sleeping in the back of his car. He’s been conditioned to fall asleep on the hard leather of the car seat, not in his own bed. He didn’t have a bed those weeks. Stacy and him still don’t talk.

He shoots Marvin a text.

hey bro im outside. will come in with the keys. jackie okay? are you all okay? There’s no response. Chase shrugs and tucks his phone into the pocket of his jeans. He’s a little hurt, but it’s fine. It’s Chase’s first visit since he’s moved out. It’s exactly as he remembers it. The lawn is in immaculate condition, with the hedges trimmed neatly and flowers springing up all over the place—Jameson was always in charge of that. He has an eye for lawn care. He takes after Jack. The door and porch are dark mahogany, though it’s washed in orange now as the sun is starting to set. The house itself is painted an egg white. The tiles of the roof are black. Potted plants litter the porch, some new, some old, but all beautiful and trimmed to perfection. No doubt it’s Marvin’s work. The sidewalk he stands on is decorated with faded chalk drawings. Robbie. Of course. Chase is standing on his own face drawn in chalk. It’s a wonderful likeness and Chase can’t help but smile. Robbie even got the faded green in his hair. He steps off. He doesn’t want to ruin a masterpiece. The light in the wide upper story window—Henrik’s room—is off. The doctor’s probably getting his much needed and deserved forty winks. The only light on is in the living room. He takes a deep breath, the kind that pulls his shoulders up like he’s shrugging, and walks towards the door. Anxiety wriggles in his belly. He clutches the keys tightly in his hand—they bite into the skin and leave an impression with their teeth. He remembers the call with Marvin the night before. He had been in his apartment putting together some videos when his phone had rung. Marvin had explained everything to him; finding Jackie bleeding out in the city, teleporting him home, the surgeries…all of it. Jackie was okay, Marvin had assured him, and that he would heal. But the fact that it was…was you-know-who’s work… It hadn’t stop his hands from shaking as soon as he said goodbye and dropped the call nor did it let him breathe. His panic attacks were always bad, but he managed the one he had that night fine. And the one in the bathroom this morning. On the drive here, too. He doesn’t have everything under control yet. Being here again reminds him of all the times you-know-who had been there. He had been there, for Jack and Henrik. It went the same way; a phone call. A panic attack. The fear. Now it’s happening all over again. Why can’t he ever escape the demon? Why can’t any of them? Even a year after…he still looks over his shoulder and tosses and turns at night. When will he stop being afraid? The keys bite into his palm like his old dog had lovingly done. He misses him. Stacy had to take that away from him, too. The sting and the thought of Bulls-eye grounds Chase and he lets go, letting it hang by the key-chain instead. Deep breaths. He slides the key into the lock and turns. The door opens. Chase looks around as he steps into the hall. It’s just the same. The walls are orange. The umbrella stand to the right of the door filled with Marvin’s props, the coat hanger opposite, and the stairs upwards at the very front. To his immediate left is the closed door to Henrik’s makeshift clinic. To his right is the doorway to the living room. There’s a movie on, though Chase can’t identify it as the volume is set way down low. He doesn’t know where to go first as he stands awkwardly in the middle space. “Hello?” He says to the seemingly empty house. “Is anyone home? Marv? Schneep?” “Chase,” His heart skips a beat when he hears the raspy call from the living room, but he brightens when he recognizes the voice. “In here.” Chase has to stop himself from running into the living room. Brown couch, flat screen TV (playing Die Hard, of course), wide windows, and white curtains that blow softly. The coffee table has coffee mug rings on it and abandoned medical supplies like gauze, cotton balls, and antibiotics. Henrik’s neatly folded coat, too. Jackie sits on the couch in a black t-shirt with the brightly coloured graphic of a cartoon dog on a bicycle. He wears the flamingo shorts to accompany it. It’s the first time Chase has seen the hero out of his supersuit; it almost feels wrong. His hair is the neon green Chase remembers it to be. He’s wearing his mask. The only sign he’s been hurt at all are the bandages around his neck and forehead. He’s hardly watching the movie. He has a big smile on his face, the toothy kind of sunshine Chase missed so much. “Jackie,” he breathes. Chase wants to cry with relief. He settles with hugging Jackie as tightly as he can. “I missed you, Jackie,” he says, muffled as he buries his head into the hero’s chest. “I was so worried about you!” “O-ow, ow,” the other hacks out a laugh and winces, patting Chase’s back. “I missed you, too, bud, but…stab wound.” “Shit, right, sorry.” Chase lets go, albeit reluctantly. “Dude, how are you? It’s, I mean—I’ve never been stabbed before.” “I don’t recommend it,” Jackie grimaces. There’s humour in his voice but he also sounds exhausted. “You get here okay?” “Parked out front,” he says, “Came in with the keys. Still have ‘em.” He holds them up to confirm that. He drops them in his lap. “How’re you holding up?” “This thing—” Jackie pats his stomach, presumably where the wound is. “—is a bitch and a half of pain. The neck thing I can handle. It just hurts to talk.” He coughs. It sounds like shaking a dead bush. “Really hurts.” “Oh, I can do the talking, if you want.” “No, it’s okay, Chase. Marvin did something to me, I think, when I was out. Makes my mouth and throat taste like mint. Pretty soothing, actually. Besides, I haven’t seen you in forever! I want to talk.” How can he be so chipper even after he almost died? Chase doesn’t understand it. He really is a comic book superhero. Always getting back up again. “Aw, it hasn’t been that long,” Chase ducks his head, sheepish, but straightens right away. “Can I ask, though? What…what happened?” The silence is thick with tension. Chase bounces his leg, the sole of his sneaker squeaking against the hardwood floor, and pulls at the rubber bracelet around his right wrist under his hoodie sleeve. He picks at the multicoloured bandages on his fingers and arms. Jackie turns the TV off just as John McClain launches himself through a window. He turns to Chase. Their knees touch. “This is what I remember,” Jackie says, and begins. He had met Anti during one of his day patrols, but it wasn’t the song and dance number they usually did; it was in the back-alleys where no one could see them. Maybe that’s what Anti wanted. Maybe it wasn’t. “Anti had…had said something to me,” he mumbles, “that I’m not the hero I think I am. That all of what we do, this hero versus villain thing, is just a show. I-I don’t know why he’s been pretending this long, or…or what he hopes to gain, but…” Chase watches him closely. Jackie stops, shakes his head, and moves on. That’s how the hero has always been. Hit a wall? Just go around. Forget about the wall and keep going. He remembers the fight—and the pinning stab through the gut. The words Anti whispered into his ear. Chase is trembling with raw anger as he sees the large dark bruise marks wrapped around Jackie’s neck where Anti’s hands had been. “But after that,” he growls in frustration, “I can’t remember anything else. By my wound here, I can guess what finished me off.” He taps his neck. “Everything else is beyond me.” “Fuck him” Chase breathes, voice quivering with fury, “You’re a hero to me, to everyone. To Jack.” Jackie flinches when he hears those words. “I don’t have any powers,” Jackie mutters. “What? Yeah, you do! That—that super strength of yours!” “Anti can manipulate objects,” Jackie shoots back, “Time and space, just like Marvin can. How do I know he hasn’t been doing it for me this whole time?” “I…I don’t know.” The anger evaporates as quickly as it came. “I-I don’t want to talk about this.” Jackie throws his hands up. “Please, Chase, let’s…let’s talk about you, okay? I want to hear about where you’ve been—what you’ve done.” Chase bites his lip, trying to find a way to stop the subject from changing. The one frustrating thing about superheroes? They build walls around them, shutting the people they love out hoping to save them from whatever inner turmoil they’re wrangling with. …Chase isn’t stupid or in denial. Even he can admit the similarities between them. But that’s just it. Chase knows he does it—Jackie doesn’t. He’d rather not push further and get into an argument, spoiling the whole visit, so Chase drops it. It’ll sit in the back of his mind, though. He tells Jackie about the new apartment; it’s spacious and less of a dump than the last one. Modest kitchen, shower instead of a tub. “I miss the tub here,” he says forlornly, gesturing to the stairs. “And my little rubber ducky. Shower’s okay, though.” He earns Jackie’s laugh. The apartment is far into the city, maybe ten blocks away from the alley Marvin had found Jackie in, and just across a coffee shop. Having cleaner, more colorful walls than ugly white granite that popcorned helps a lot to take his mind off more…painful things. He hung up posters, bought a flatscreen, had a whole new gaming rig up for himself—he’s doing okay for himself, he thinks. The therapy, the talking, has brought him out of the hole he was in three years before. He tells him about new friends. Baristas at the coffee shop who’ve recognized him as a regular. YouTube is more fun than anything for him right now. The Bro Average brand was dissolved, but he couldn’t care less. It had been time for a fresh start. His channel is up and running and he’s been invited to panels, talks, and conventions. Some people from AA said they had watched his videos. He tells Jackie about how good it is to just. Work. To produce content for others to consume, to make people happy, but not at the cost of his own happiness. He notices he’s rambling when Jackie says nothing and keeps beaming at him. He falters and lets his words trail off into silence. “What?” Chase says. “I’m so proud of you,” Jackie replies, and the pride is trembling in his voice. “Chase, you’ve gotten so far without us. You’ve got a job, a new house—you’re practically shining!” “You’re…you’re proud of me? You mean it?” Chase feels himself smile, too. “Yes. I’m proud.” Jackie puts a hand on his shoulder. “You’re my bro. You’re the bravest damn person I know and you’ve come out of this so strong, so…it’s…Jack would be proud too.” Chase understands why he starts crying. That’s all he ever wanted. To hear those words come out of Jackie’s mouth. It means he’s done it. He’s gotten better. Maybe not recovered fully, not just yet, but better. Even in his joy, he hates himself for crying because whenever he cries he bawls like a big baby. He buries his face into Jackie’s chest, shoulders shaking. He’s staring at the cartoon dog through blurry, teary eyes. The dog says, in a neon bubble, “RADICAL!” The other rubs his back in soothing circles. “That’s it, buddy,” Jackie whispers, “I’ve got you, bro.” Chase swallows thickly, sniffles, and wipes his face with the back of his hand. Jackie hands him a tissue and he blows. His eyes are stuffy. He looks up into Jackie’s eyes, milky white, hidden behind the film in the mask, but he can tell they’re full of soft, unspoken love. The hero holds his cheek. “Chase Brody Mcloughlin,” Jackie declares, “I, your loving bro, will never stop being proud of you. Don’t forget that.” “Thanks, Jackie,” he sniffs, wiping his eyes. “Thank you. It’s…i-it’s nice to hear that what I’m doing is finally right.” “We’re all proud of you.” Jackie’s hand drops but gives Chase’s shoulder one last firm pat. “S-speaking of,” Chase clears his throat. “Speaking of…where is everyone?” Jackie blanks. “Uh,” he says, unsure. “Good question, actually! No idea. I woke up, like, ten minutes before you came in. I kind of assumed Henrik went to work, and who knows where Marvin is at any given time? JJ and Robbie are out on vacation or something. It’s just Henrik, Marvin, and I.” “Huh,” Chase frowns and stands. “You wait here, Jackie. Henrik can’t have gone to work; he’d never leave you here alone.” “Marvin would be watching over me!” He argues. “This is Marvin we’re talking about!” He shoots back as he leaves the room. He considers going upstairs but stops before he can do it. He notices, to his surprise, that across the hall the clinic’s lights are on. How did he not notice that coming in? The harsh white fluorescents bounce off the tiles and under the door. Chase knocks. “Doc? Marv?” He says, “Yoo-hoo. Anyone in there?” Of course, unsettling silence follows. Great. Chase has played enough horror games to know that whatever’s on the other side is bad. He flinches as glass shatters behind the door. A shadow moves under the door. “Henrik?” “Schiesse!” comes a muffled curse to answer. Angry German swearing? Yeah. That’s Henrik. “What the hell was that?!” Jackie says from the couch, halfway to standing. Chase notices he’s wobbling like a newborn deer. “Jackie, get back on the couch,” Chase scolds the hero, “You’re in no condition to walk!” He turns back to the door. “Doc, I’m coming in.” He takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob, and turns. What he finds on the other side isn’t horrible, so he releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Henrik, hair messy and eye bags seemingly darker, clutching his head, is kneeling among shattered glass. From the way the metal table beside the hospital bed is on its side, Chase surmises that Henrik knocked it and the beakers that were on it to the ground when he tried to stand. “Doc!” He exclaims, rushing over to Henrik. He takes the doctor by the arm, helping him up, and looping the arm around his shoulders. “Danke,” Henrik grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “Chase, is that you?” “A-are you blind, Henrik?” Panic momentarily flares up in him. “Oh, jeez, I can get something for your eyes. Maybe ice—” “No,” Henrik sighs, but in the most affectionate way possible. He opens his eyes halfway, tired grey-blues looking up at him. “Chase, relax. I’m not blind. It’s these damn fluorescents—they could make me go blind. I don’t know why I thought they were a good idea. This nausea…it’s like someone took a hammer to my skull. Might as well have… I see enough of those lights in the hospital. Is it any wonder I wear glasses…” Henrik reaches into his pocket for something. He swears again as he brings out the bent and cracked frames of his glasses. “Oh, that is just great,” he hisses under his breath, “They must’ve gotten smashed in the fight.” “T…the what?” This is plenty strange already, but of course, he just has to notice only now that Marvin is crumpled in a desk chair, long, flowy hair messy and tangled, falling behind him as his head leans back, showing his neck. “Oh my God—Marvin!” “He’s okay,” Henrik straightens, though he’s still too weak to stand. Chase helps him into another chair. The doctor sits down with a sigh of relief, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. “What the hell happened here?” Chase gestures vaguely to the entire room. “To Marvin? Actually, to you? Was it…was it you-know-who?” “Anti,” the doctor spits. Chase winces at the name. “It’s not right to fear his name. He and I had an…encounter last night. I thought I was going to die.” He briefly touches his neck. Chase sees all the scars crisscrossed there; it’s why the doctor wears turtlenecks to work. He’s always been insecure about them. “I thought it was all over but…but I woke up here. My head hurts like a bitch but I’ve got no other wounds. My neck, my concussion—they’re healed, like they were never there. "So, I have reason to believe,” he continues, “Marvin used the full extent of his magic to save me. It’s probably why he’s passed out.” “He’s always been shit at restoration magic,” Chase jokes, but turns serious right away. “Jesus, doc. Are you really okay? Why the fuck did you-know-wh—I mean,—A…Anti go after you?” “Teach me a lesson? Finish me off?” Henrik raises his shoulder in a shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine. God, I’m sorry, Chase, that this is the scene you’ve returned to. You’ve had enough of this…this Anti business, and now we’re dragging you back into it. Forgive me.” “No, doc, don’t say that,” Chase waves him off, “it’s not your fault. Besides, the guy’s messing with my brothers. That’s not gonna fly with me.” His voice shakes. He knows how unconvincing his moxie is. He swallows the stone in his throat and turns away before Henrik can call him out on it. The man crosses the room and takes a trauma blanket from the cabinet—he practically knows the clinic as well as Henrik does—and drapes it over Marvin. The magician barely stirs. He’s completely out. “CHASE? IS EVERYONE OKAY?” Jackie shouts from the living room. Chase startles and nearly knocks some important doodad over. Henrik’s blue eyes crackle to life at the sound of the hero’s voice. “He’s okay,” he says more to himself than Chase, “Oh, God, he’s okay.” To Chase, he says, “Chase, help me up—I must see Jackie.” “But what about Marv?” “He’ll need rest. Neither of us are strong enough to move him upstairs. Please, Chase, let’s go.” Henrik is almost begging. The tone unnerves and stirs Chase into action. He helps the doctor, slowly and surely, into the living room. “Henrik?” Jackie breaths, “What happened to you? Why are you limping? Is Marvin o—” Henrik launches himself from Chase’s arms and onto Jackie, nearly tackling the hero into the sofa. Jackie grunts in pain. “You idiot,” Henrik growls, though with utmost love. “You had me so worried! You could’ve died.” He hugs Jackie tight, despite his weak state. “Don’t ever do that again.” “What, get stabbed?” When Henrik glares up at him, he sobers. “Okay, okay. I won’t. I promise. Chase, where’s Marvin?” “Getting some rest,” Chase explains, “He used a whole bunch of his magic to heal Henrik. A-Anti attacked the doc last night.” “He…what?” Jackie’s tone is dangerously quiet. His shoulders are tense—he looks like an apex predator. It takes everything in Chase not to back away. “Calm yourself,” Henrik cautions, “I’m okay now. Marvin made sure of it. It is true; I had a fight with Anti and…I did not emerge the victor. But it’s alright. I’m alright.” Jackie deflates and hugs Henrik back. “I’m glad you’re okay, doc.” “You too, Jackie.” Chase bites his lip and leaves the room. He knows what he said about Anti, that he’d be ready to fight the demon again, given the chance. It’s one big lie, because he is fucking terrified of Anti, terrified of the fact that this is all very real, and that it had gotten all too real very fast. He wants to run away in that stupid little way of his, where he drives and drives until he can’t or locks himself up in his room, anywhere where Anti can’t reach him. He’s managed not to see the demon for a full year. He can’t do this. He can’t. Not again. Not again. – Chase goes up to his room and finds the hatch to the roof still unlocked. He goes out and sits there, on the uncomfortable tiles, and stares up at the stars. It’s somewhere around 11:30, maybe midnight. He doesn’t check his phone. Henrik’s gone to sleep. Jackie had helped Chase move Marvin to the couch. The both of them weren’t nearly strong enough to bring him up to his bedroom. Some part of Chase is telling him to relapse. To drink. He snaps the rubber bracelet against his wrist over and over instead. It makes an angry red mark. It’s a distraction. It makes him all the more ashamed of how fast he crumbles in the face of all this. He’s hasn’t gotten better. Even in the darkness, he knows what the bracelet says. He’s seen it, worn it ever since the last time Anti had tormented him. Alcoholics Anonymous, in white letters against a garish neon green. His mouth tastes of smoke. His eyes are heavy. He is tired and deflated. His brothers nearly dead—what a sight to come home to. At least now, he’s here for them. He is so tired, he doesn’t turn around when the hatch opens and Jackie sits beside him. He’s changed out of that cartoon dog shirt—he sports one of Henrik’s striped shirts. “Hey,” Jackie greets him softly. Chase can see the hero watching the bracelet snap repeatedly against his wrist, which he doesn’t stop. “Hey.” Silence. Cicadas. Snap. Snap. Snap. “How long have you been sober?” Chase knows how much Jackie wants to say more, but he doesn’t. It’s a simple question. “A year.” An exact year from the last time Anti hurt him. He and Jackie match in scars now. Not on the neck, though. “Dude, that’s awesome. I’m proud of you.” The words are hollow. He doesn’t deserve them. Snap. Snap. Snap. “Chase?” Snap. Snap. Snap. “Welcome home.” Chase breaths shakily. His wrist stings. He cries, the fourth time that day, and bites back the urge to scream. “He’s g-going to f-find me again,” he says through quick breaths, “I’m n-next.” “Chase…” The man shakes his head furiously. “I-I’m not leaving. If he think he can fucking s-scare me,” Chase hiccups, “he’s w-wrong. I’m tired of r-running away. I’m going to fight.” Nothing, for a moment. Then, Jackie says, “It’s what Jack would’ve wanted.” Chase cries harder at that. He wants to toss his house keys off this damn roof and never see them again, because they remind him too much of the doors he’s just opened up. He’s not afraid. Shaking and sobbing, he is not afraid. He is furious.

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #fanfiction #fic #nearly 4k words if you'll believe #jse #mine #my writing #alcoholism tw #alcohol ment #writersofjack

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c-optimistic · 4 years ago

Note

i am late in the tag game but since it's mutually binding, i request a snippet of something from our fics. write

you come to me? telling me to write? when you’ve yet to write the contractually mandated fic you’d told me you’d write like seven billion years ago now??

but yeah, sure okay. snippet from our original fic called royalty which is a knight/princess au:

“Well, a lot of things aren’t like me. Like not going to work and spending all day watching daytime dramas. I don’t even like daytime dramas.”

“Don’t knock it, Mads,” Jack says, hand over his heart. “I for one am very invested in the bold and the beautiful—after all, I’m both bold and beautiful, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Maddie laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’re a regular Prince Charming, Jack.”

“I admit it,” Maddie jokes, grinning when Hamlet gets off his bed, stretches, and pads slowly over, sticking his head in Maddie’s lap. “It was a surprise to me too.”

“Surprise?” Jack exclaims, mouth dropping open. “Madeline, you and I were always meant to be.”

“You’re right, if only you were four years older and less beautiful. It could’ve been a match made in heaven.”

“Way to aim for a man’s heart, Mads,” Jack sighs, keeping a stoic expression even as Sophie chortles away. Lizzie shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto Jack’s face.

“Stop flirting with my wife, dork,” she says, eyes narrowed. “And Maddie, stop encouraging him.”

“Oh, but we’re meant to be, Liz,” Maddie laughs, “would you really get in the way of love?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Pick on me, that’s fine,” Lizzie mutters, unable to help the smile that forms on her lips.

(It’s a startlingly normal moment. Maddie and Jack are teasing Lizzie like always. Sophie makes sure to throw in her own joke like always.

It’s a normal moment. And Maddie breathes it in, wants to keep it as long as possible.

It’s likely why she speaks up.)

“I have a story,” she announces to the others, feeling a little shaky on her feet, not minding when Jack subtly takes her by the elbow and leads her back to the table. “Want to hear it?”

“I do, but I better be in this one,” Sophie says, raising her eyebrows.

“I was promised dinner, so I’m in,” Jack adds with a shrug. “I’m not going anywhere till I’ve been fed.”

Lizzie helps Maddie sit down, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple.

“I want to hear everything you have to say, Madeline,” she says softly, eyes crinkling as she smiles.

And in that moment, Maddie feels a little bit warmer as she looks at her friends, and swears she falls just a bit more in love with her wife.

#everyone go bug thelostlegaycy to write #this is super important #asks #thelostlegaycy

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cowandcalf · 4 years ago

Text

Writer’s Month 2020 - To Find A Way

Prompt No.17 - Cooking

Chapter 1-9

Chapter 10

Danny hears birds chirping. The sound gets interrupted by some strange screeching from a much larger creature he doesn't know at all because he has never camped out in the jungle. He's surrounded by a green sea and the reason why he's out in the wild is Steve. And momentarily, he's lying in Steve's pull-out bed. Naked and alone.

Danny takes stock. The blanket covers half his face and tickles his nose. He's curled up in a comfy sleeping position. He knows from the outside there is nothing to see but a lump under a sheet and a mop of blond hair peeking out at the top. That's him still in bed, barely awake. He doesn't move, doesn't show that he hears what's going on in the small open room that combines kitchen and sleeping space.

And there's wind.

Also on AO3

Danny listens to the softness that is moved air and the way it rustles in the treetops. He almost feels the air move gently over his warm skin. And he's aware of the amount of sand between the sheets. And that brings all the wild memories of their breathtaking and strangely intense lovemaking to the forefront of his mind. He notices the steady thud of his pulse in his ears. Even with all the sound filling the air, a magical calmness rests on top of all.

He breathes and sustains the way his body temperature rises. He's alone in bed. Cracks tear slowly through the powerful mood from last night, the assurance that Steve and he have taken the next step. That's how Danny sees it. Even if they didn't talk at all. Their kisses and how they fisted the other's hair and swallowed each other's breath when they came was proof enough that the tide has changed. Danny clings to Mary's confirmation that Steve deals with emotions so differently than the rest of them.

Danny listens to the clatter of someone cooking. Steve. The air is saturated with the most delicious coffee scent.

More memories of last night rush in in a flash. The way Steve murmured his name like a prayer. And how he watched him come, hold his gaze in the same way he carried him inside, with a steely grip – not letting go, not allowing Danny to blink, to look away. And Steve let him see, too. He showed him how he felt. God, it was so much more than sex. They have bonded over fucking into each other's fist.

More heat lets him break in a sweat. He rolls over to lie on his back. Danny listens to the noise from the kitchenette. It's not good. The sound carpet isn't smooth and in sync with a happy, content mood. The sound is tempered. And Steve is already up. That's not a good start either. Steve hasn't woken him; hasn't said he's getting up. Danny has expected at least a word, a soft kiss. After last night? Yeah, a gentle press of lips is what he has wanted and has wished for.

The clatter quiets down for a bit. Danny can still handle the pressure of the increasing sorrows which makes him fist the sheets. He holds his breath. He tries to analyze the rhythm of how dishes are moved, cupboards get opened and closed. Occasional odd bumps and a spoon slipping from fingers into the sink make Danny twitch. What the fuck is wrong?

No morning snuggling, no morning sex.

Steve just got up before Danny has been awake. He snuck out from under the sheets. What does this mean? It means something. It always does. They had unfamiliar emotional sex. Danny wanted to say that he loved Steve; wanted to groan the three magic words into his mouth when he arched into Steve's arms before his balls got painfully drawn up and the dizzying wave of his climax knocked him almost unconscious. And Steve watched him as he has never seen anything more beautiful. And Danny felt like crying and that has never ever happened before either.

He remembers how Steve fell asleep on top of him, totally exhausted. Danny was the one to wipe off the cum and the sweat. His heart ached when he watched the guarded look on Steve's face he did not even lose in his sleep. He covered Steve with a blanket and pulled him into his arms. Steve was comatose, knocked-out completely. Danny was worried he might have bad dreams but the only thing he remembers is sweet nothingness and one of the best nights of sleep he has had in a long time.

Maybe Steve had bad dreams and he was so beat that he just slept right through Steve's struggle.

Why did Steve get up without waking him? Danny pretends to be still under and listens. The clatter has no melody. The longer Danny waits the more jacked up it gets. There's a nervousness to it and the soft, constant floating movement Steve normally has with plants doesn't come through at all. It gets chopped, inharmonic even and it's interrupted by total silence as if Steve is lost in thoughts.

Danny knows what this means. Of course, he does. He thinks of nothing else but last night and how this changes everything. Steve must be all worked up about what has happened between them. Maybe he's worried about how to go on. Steve's a guy of honor and devotion. He has made a statement last night. Danny knows that. But Steve doesn't know that Danny knows this and that he's the same kind of a statement-making guy. Having sex like that is not sex anymore, it is already making love with a commitment. Danny doesn't fuck around for kicks. He never has and he never will.

They didn't talk, not really, no actual words that would end in full sentences. They weren't capable of doing that. There was nothing but passionately grunted 'fucks', 'keep goings', 'harders'. Lots of groans and moans and the profound tongue-licking. God, Steve can lick and suck. Danny shivers. His cock twitches and tents the bedsheet. Last night, their brains were bloodless with their balls heavy and their hands everywhere.

When the clatter stops entirely Danny's alarm bells push him out of bed. He throws the blanket off and gets up. He doesn't care how he looks. His hair sticks out in all directions. He blinks and rubs the sleep from his eyes and pads over to where Steve is busy doing morning chores.

Steve stands with his back to Danny. The room is small. Danny knows Steve has heard him getting up. Danny's naked and it feels good, natural even. His clothes are soaked with mud lying around somewhere in the garden. And he forgets he has a shirt he could put on. Steve has put on some boxers. It's not the time now to worry about such banalities.

Steve's breathing is off, and he has this hard line in his shoulders again where the tension shows. Danny steps up behind him and wraps both arms around his waist. He presses his still bed-warm body into Steve's back. "Good morning, babe," he kisses the patch of skin in front of his face. He rubs his scratchy cheek over Steve's bare skin. He holds his breath and waits for Steve's reaction.

A large hand moves over to cover Danny's forearm. Steve's tight grip is alarmingly painful as if he wanted Danny to keep from leaving. Steve hangs his head. Danny senses the stuttering breath he takes. "Good morning," he answers like a question.

"You're cooking breakfast?" Danny's fingertips trace Steve's fast-beating heart beneath the skin under the soft arch of his impressive pecs.

"Yeah, I thought you might be hungry." Steve strangles the rag he holds in the other hand. He's agitated and tries to play it down.

"And you're not?"

Steve's smile pierces through his words. "I sure as hell am."

"Got some spare boxers for me?"

"Yeah, somewhere in the wooden chest there on the wall."

The fact that Steve doesn't even mention Danny's hard on pressed between Steve's ass cheeks makes him hurry. Steve's too wound up in an invisible world with a worst-case scenario concerning Danny. He is tied up in emotions he can't express with words. And they mess with his mental state. Danny wants to understand, and he still needs to talk about Grace and the dolphins.

They eat in silence at first. Scrambled eggs, toasted bread, and watermelon. Steve has his elbows propped up and nips at his huge mug. "You said last night you wanted to talk about something." He lowers his coffee.

Danny puts down his fork. "Yeah, right," Mary's words float back into his mind. Danny must be patient this cannot go sideways. He has no idea how Steve will react once he starts talking about his baby girl and the mammals. Danny leans back and fumbles with the knife. "I had a talk with Grace last night. I tucked her in. I went back to Stan's and Rachel's to make sure they are okay. Grace loves to tell me about the stuff that made her happy during the day." Danny clears his throat and watches Steve. He listens and wears a blank expression as if he waits for a punishment.

Danny can't stand it. He leans forward and reaches with his arm halfway over the tabletop. His hand is turned upside, his palm is open, his fingers relaxed. An invitation for Steve to take it. Danny stays quiet and waits patiently. With a sharp exhale and the inner decision to jump Steve grabs Danny's hand and circles his fingers around his wrist. Danny latches his hand around Steve's forearm like a lock and holds on tight.

"Steve, it's okay. I just need to ask you something. Don't wait for the beating. There's none, okay?" Danny speaks gently.

"Okay," Steve loosens his grip a bit but Danny won't have any of it. He keeps on holding on tight.

"You, uh, gave Grace a promise. I just want to check with you if you can keep it. You told her to show her dolphins at your beach. She dreams about going to see your dolphins. Can you keep it, Steve? The promise?" Danny lifts his eyes and stops fumbling with the knife. He's nervous too.

Steve casts his gaze and shoves the food around on his plate. "Do you think I promise your little girl something I can't keep?" He seems deeply offended. He wants to pull his hand back.

Danny doesn't let him do that. "It was intense, yesterday with Mary's pregnancy. With me and Grace and meeting your friends, who turn out to be my teammates. I didn't get the part of the conversation where you said you'd show Grace the dolphins at the beach where you live. I don't even know where this is." Danny sighs. "You should have informed me first before you go and say stuff like that to Grace. She's only six, Steve. Her world is different. To her, everything is real, and all dreams always come true. Do you get that?"

Steve puts the fork down. There's a beat of silence. "I get it, Danny." He shuffles and pushes his chair back, but Danny's grip tightens around Steve's forearm. "I bought a paddling pool and a life vest for Grace. The ocean is so big and she's so small." Steve's voice is thick. He tries hard to sound normal.

"I don't understand, Steve. Why the pool? And the life vest? Do You want to take her out on the ocean?" Danny inches forward. He's not sure what Steve tries to say.

Steve shakes his head. "No, man, the ocean is too dangerous for her. Too big and too wild for a little girl." He stops and Danny sees the hard beating of his pulse in the vein curving up the throat. "I told her we have to wait. We have to ask Danno. The dolphins won't appear before the big tide changes. A few more weeks but then she will see them, swimming in big schools. She can watch from the shore, totally safe and in no danger at all."

"That – that sounds great, Steve." Danny scoots closer. "I'm sorry, I assumed you would want to take her out on a surfboard, six miles from the shore." He laughs shakily. The love for this incredible man burns like wildfire through his body.

Steve adds in a hurry. "I also bout some stuff to build a sandcastle. And, uhm, and a sunshade. Sun blocker, too, stuff for a beach day, if –" his voice dies in the middle of the sentence.

Danny's heart is about to burst into a million pieces. Steve starts to crawl back into his shell. He has admitted what Danny and Grace mean to him and Danny hasn't answered to that. Steve's too unsure to stand the silence. He wants to get up.

Danny pulls him gently back by holding on. He slips his hand in Steve's and laces their fingers together. He fights with the moisture in his eyes. "You did all that, huh? You plan a beach day at your house for Grace and me. God, you're killing me, Steve."

Steve doesn't eat, doesn't move. "Only if you want." He murmurs.

"When did you plan to tell me? I mean you have to invite us."

"I'm telling you now." Steve hugs Danny's hand hard.

"I love the idea and I know Grace will be bouncing with joy to be with you." Danny waits but Steve tries not to combust with nervousness and stabs holes with the fork in a watermelon piece. "Did you buy a can of color for her room, too?" Danny chuckles. It's meant as a joke.

"Turquoise," Steve says as if it's the most normal thing to say. But the tightness in his upper body tells a different story. He's dangerously close to tear his hand away from Danny's grip to dash out the back door. Steve's hand trembles slightly in Danny's embrace. "Grace said she likes the colors of the ocean. I bought turquoise and different shades of blue so she can choose."

Danny's sucks in a harsh breath. "Steve,"

But Steve freezes and wants to pull his hand out from Danny's grip. "Let me go, Danny," he demands.

"Don't. Steve, please, don't do that. Give me your hand. I need five seconds to let your answer sink in."

"It's too much, is it? I went overboard. I scared you off. I'm sorry," Steve has Danny's hand in a choke-hold, cutting off the bloodstream. He's falling fast and hard in the wrong direction. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know what's right or wrong. I thought," Steve swallows dry and runs his hand through his hair. He leans on his elbow and hugs his neck with one hand to hide his face from Danny. "I thought I prepare a room for Grace at my house, so she has a place to sleep if you want to stay over. If you want to drop by, spend time with me, be with me." Steve breathes, "I'm sorry if I shocked you. I'm moving too fast. I thought – I just."

Danny tugs at their hands and makes Steve look at him. He wipes at his eyes, "Steve, look at me," Steve's pained gaze melts into something else. Danny knows he has red, watery eyes but the world is not ready for guys like Steve who have a heart as big as the whole damn world and so much love to give it's downright overwhelming. "I fucking love you, Steve. Don't you get that?"

Steve doesn't answer, doesn't say it back but he swallows hard, bites his lips.

"Grace loves turquoise. She's going to love her room and everything you have planned for her. I can't believe I found you. I don't know what to say." Danny almost chokes on the love. This feeling when beauty is too much to sustain. He grabs Steve's hand so tight the knuckles turn white. Danny's not ashamed of the tears he wipes off with the back of his hand. "Eat up babe. I wanna take you back to bed."

TBC

#writersmonth2020 #h50 #mcdanno #fic rec #mcdanno fic rec #prompt fill #prompt cooking #ongoing story #cowandcalf writes #I almost made it #still proud #stories will be finished #never could let the boy not have their happy ending

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sockablock · 5 years ago

Text

(i just finished watching Gentleman Jack and then my keyboard slipped)

- - -

“—bad idea.”

“What?!”

“I said, this is a bad idea! Miss Lionett—”

“Gods above, Caleb, don’t call me that! We’ve had this conversation a million times, now. It’s just Beau. And shut up, I’m about to win.”

“Ha! No she ain’t.” The lumbering flesh-wall of a man opposing them leaned across the table. Clutched between his meaty hands were three battered playing cards. “Little Missy, you should quit while you still can.”

Beau laughed. Her sleeves had been rolled up scandalously to her elbows, and her hair was twisted around in a messy bun.

“That’s what you think,” she said, “but I’ve got it on pretty good authority that I’m about to win.”

“Oh yeah?” The man exhaled a cloud of grey smoke. “And whose authority would that be, eh?”

She grinned. “I’m goin’ all in, mister. Last chance to turn tail and run.”

He instinctively opened his mouth to argue, but did still take the briefest glance at his hand. From across the room, hidden up in the rafters and watching in silence, a scruffy orange tabby saw two threes, and a five.

Caleb put his hand on Beau’s shoulder.

“Your cards are not good,” he said, pleading. “Please, Miss Lionett. We should return to the manor while we still c—”

The man’s nostrils suddenly flared, rekindled by a burning greed. He practically shoved the last of his coins at Beau and triumphantly threw down his meager cards. But before he could even stand up to gloat, Beau grinned and laid her own hand onto the table.

“Three queens,” she said, and scooped up his coppers. “Come back soon, if you feel like losing any more of your dignity!”

Caleb sat down next to her as the man stormed off to the counter for a drink.

“What a fool,” he sighed, taking a swig from Beau’s cider. “He should not have bet so high with a poor hand. I almost cannot believe you successfully egged him on.”

“Yeah, well, you know me better than that by now, Widogast.” She took her flagon back. “And men never know how to handle themselves against a confident woman.”

“You were laying it on a bit thick,” Caleb said, giving her a critical eye. “If he had not been so drunk, it may not have worked.”

Beau snorted. “Even if he hadn’t been, he still would’ve lost his money. What do you take me for? An amateur?”

“I take you for a cheater.” His words held no trace of malice. “And a scoundrel, and a braggart.”

“Cheers,” Beau grinned, and raised her mug.

Caleb rolled his eyes, but he did give her a small, affectionate nod.

“Being your travelling companion certainly has been an adventure,” he said, resting his chin against his palm. “I have never seen a woman consume so much alcohol and rob so many people of their coin. Much less a woman of means, such as yourself.”

“What can I say?” Beau took a long drag. “I’m multi-talented. Multidimensional.”

“The only dimensions I have seen so far are the rough ones,” Caleb said. “When I signed up to work for you, I was not expecting this.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expectin’ to hire a wizard on the run from the law.” Her last drop of cider stained her lip. “Good luck we found each other, eh?”

Caleb had the decency to look abashed. “Again,” he said, “I did not mean to conceal the truth from you, Beau, it is just that our motivations incredibly happened to align—”

The rest of this sentence was lost to Miss Lionett. Because as Caleb continued to drone on and on, from across the tavern, the door opened.

This in and of itself was not an abnormal occurrence.

The individual that then wandered in, however, was certainly a sight to behold.

She was a lady. A beautiful lady, albeit with a rather girlish charm. Her dress was made of the finest chiffon but dyed a soft and pastel pink that sharply contrasted with the dingy pub interior. Her shoes were heeled and white, actually white, pristine and paler than the finest ivory. Jewelry adorned her slender fingers and a necklace of pearls sat around her neck. Her hair, curled and smooth as a gem, was cradled by a bonnet tied below her chin, and she wore a pair of earrings that glittered in the low light.

Beau was pretty sure her jaw dropped. This was...no way was she actually seeing…

The lady took but the briefest moment to gaze about the bar. Then she skipped—skipped!—over to the counter.

The door closed behind her. This action had not been done by her, but instead by a rather tall gentleman wearing a servant’s frock. He looked beyond uncomfortable being in this space.

Beau couldn’t blame him. His mistress must’ve been out of her mind, just waltzing into a place like this, especially dressed the way she was.

Next to Beau, came an impressed whistle. She turned, and it was Caleb.

“It appears that things are very different in Nicodranas,” he said, eyebrows raised. “I did not even know they had tieflings in this city.”

“Yeah, insane tieflings,” Beau muttered. She couldn’t stop looking at the lady, who was now making animated conversation with the barkeep. Other patrons in the bar were staring too, as if they too could not believe what they were seeing. A few began to whisper, murmur, one or two were pointing now, and then there was the screech of a chair being pushed back, and the heavy thud of drunken feet—

“Oh, no.”

Caleb blinked. “Oh, no?” he echoed. “Why ‘oh-no,’ is there something—”

Beau was on her feet just as the man she’d swindled reached the bar.

“Don’t drink my cider!” she snapped to Caleb. “I’ll be right back, don’t you dare touch my drink!”

- - -

“—please,” added Fjord, raising his palms for emphasis. “We’re just here for a drink. Nothing else. We don’t want to make trouble.”

“I see that, I know that,” the swaying man said. His breath smelled like leftover shoe polish. “Only, thing is, right, I’m not tryin’ to make trouble either. In fact, I just wanna ask your pretty miss to share a drink with me.”

Behind him, though not behind him enough, Jester gave the man a glare.

“No thanks,” she said, after a pause. “You’re not really that handsome, really. And I don’t actually care to know you.”

His beady, bloodshot eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me?” he said.

“You’re ugly,” Jester repeated, for clarity. “Go away. Fjord, make him go away.”

Fjord winced. “Now, uh, now, Jester,” he began, “I understand what you’re sayin’, but—”

Unfortunately, before he could finish speaking, the man took a step closer. The floorboards creaked under his gait. He leaned in and, through horrible, tobacco-stained teeth, snarled directly into Fjord’s face.

“You think you can take me on, orc-boy?”

Fjord knew for a fact that he couldn’t.

“He’ll kick your ass!” Jester jeered. “He’s not afraid, isn’t that right?”

Fjord knew that a punch was coming before he even saw it. Still, he barely had enough time to stick out an arm and push Jester back, to raise his other hand in defense of his face, to squeeze his eyes shut and take a deep breath and sort of curl himself up into a sort of standing fetal position when, out of nowhere, there came a sudden blur.

A fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him reeling back. Then, as he tried to straighten up, there was a sickening crack as a foot slammed into the center of his chest, followed by two more punches in quick succession just below his ribs.

He collapsed to the floor in a broken, bloody heap. Unconscious, Beau noted, as she took a step back, but fortunately—disappointingly—still very much alive.

There was a smattering of applause from the bar audience. It had been a rather slow Tuesday, until now.

Beau beamed. She almost considered taking a bow, until she felt a soft pressure on her side.

She turned.

And stared right into a pair of striking violet eyes.

“Holy shit,” the lady breathed; she was clutching rather tightly to Beau’s arm. “Holy shit, who are you? A mercenary? A soldier? That was amazing!”

Beau managed a faint smile. She could feel her heartbeat suddenly leap, probably from the adrenaline.

“I’m, uh, a traveler,” she said.

“A traveler?” For some reason, the lady looked even more awed. “Wow, that’s so cool! Are you going to be in Nicodranas long? Are you looking for a place to stay? Or for work? I think I might need a new bodyguard.”

She nodded rather un-subtly to the half-orc by her side.

“I’m not your bodyguard,” he said. He sounded rather exasperated. But then he looked up at Beau, nodded, “I’m Fjord, by the way. This is my...employer, Miss Jester Lavore.”

Jester took the briefest moment to curtsy. Then she re-attached herself to Beau’s arm.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she gushed. “I’ve never seen anything like that before! Especially not from another girl.”

“Yes, well, I’m a real Jack,” Beau said. “But, uh, Beauregard is my name.”

Fjord plopped down into one of the bar stools. “Well then, Miss Beauregard,” he said, “could we treat you to a drink? It’s the least we can do, you savin’ us like that.”

Beau raised an eyebrow at him. Then she glanced back down to the wide, twinkling smile at her side.

“You have got to teach me to do that,” Jester said. “That was so cool, holy shit.”

Beau felt a grin spreading across her face.

“Yeah...alright,” she said. “Yeah, you know what? Sure. Mister Fjord, Miss Lavore, I think I’ll take you up on that.”

#critical role #critrole #critfic #fic #beaujester #beauregard #jester #not pictured: caleb staring at frumpkin and asking: why does she always leave me behind?#cr2 #long post #jay writes #text #fanfic #fanfiction #also i am FULL of emotions about gentleman jack holy FUCK #what an AMAZING SHOW HHHH #the mighty nein #gentleman jack au

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 4 years ago

Text

A View To A Winchester (Part 11)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle.

Section Word Count: 5,570

Section Content: fluff, flirting, angst, R-rated language, show level violence

~~~~~

Dean sipped slow at the steaming black coffee he’d picked up on his way to Cas’s house. Way too fuckin’ early. A dude in his sixties, walking a yippy Yorkshire, squinted hard at Dean biding time in Baby outside the tiny two bedroom cottage belonging to Castiel Novak. Tempted to give him the middle finger, Dean instead opted for a two finger friendly salute with a grin. The elder man continued down the sidewalk, his reflection eventually caught by Dean in the rearview mirror. He passed behind the Impala, stopped right at the tailpipe, and took a mental note of the license plate.

“Come on, man.” Dean mumbled to himself. “I can only handle so much stupid this early. The POS dog saved its owner, pulling him across the street and yapping the whole damn way.

He yawned and leaned back in his seat. The time on his watch confirmed it was way too early to be up and out of the house on a Saturday morning. Especially when he wasn’t on a job. Especially when, if Cas hadn’t shown up, he’d probably be in Julie’s bed sleeping. He grinned. Probably not sleeping.

No, Dean was pretty sure he would have woken Julie up very early to do more of what he wished they’d done last night. When he’d gotten back to his house after saying goodbye, he’d attempted to explain the term cockblocking to Cas. Cas had sat on the couch with perfect posture. He listened, as he always did when Dean explained something, with that dazed and confused expression. Dean paced back and forth in a state of irritability and arousal. “Do you know how long it’s been, Cas, since I’ve had a piece of ass?”

“I believe you’ve gotten pieces of ass more recently than I have, Dean. My last sexual encounter was with the reaper, April.” Cas had experienced much in his human form, but he still felt like an innocent, humorless child to Dean in moments like this.

“Piece of…” Dean shook his head. “Nevermind. Look, it’s been a long fuckin’ time, okay?”

Cas stared at the cushion between his open legs, processing. “My intrusion prevented you from reaching orgasm with Julie.” He stared back at Dean with a head tilt and puppy dog eyes. “I am sorry.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Whatever.”

Cas had then gone on about the troubles he was having with Jack. Dean took it all in and promised he’d come over bright and early the next morning to try and talk to the kid. Cas still looked perplexed as Dean scooted him out of the house, explaining they wouldn’t be playing cards that night.

The grass in front of Cas’s house was drenched in dew. A thin film of grey fog hung low in the air. Dean sipped hard and long at the coffee. He let the strong brew settle on his tongue and inhaled the dark roast aroma he craved. He needed the caffeine to do its job this morning. He’d only clocked a couple hours of sleep. It was nothing new. But he could usually catch up on the insomnia in the late morning when he was home. Not today. There were things on his agenda after he took care of this unpleasant family business. They would require way more energy than what he currently had to expend with Jack and Cas.

Julie is number one on my to do list. The other items being all the things I want to do to Julie.

His cock had begged for attention all night and morning. Even now, sitting in the driver’s seat, he could feel his semi press with insistence against the denim. But he’d refrained. It wasn’t like he hadn’t beat off to thoughts of Julie before. It had become a daily, sometimes multiple times a day, occurrence since that first night after he tasted her cobbler. He’d dropped the phone immediately after the text conversation had ended, letting her know how good her sweet treat had been, and jerked off imagining how sweet she tasted.

After getting a hint of what she tasted like last night, he was hell bent on having her wrapped around him the next time he came. He leaned back in his seat and tilted the rearview mirror to confirm he had that cheesy ass grin on his face from his thoughts of her. This is bad. The dissatisfaction of how Julie was getting under his skin battled with the want to experience this other feeling fully. You’re just gonna fuck it up. Can’t do normal. Tried it once and it didn’t stick. And, she’s too sweet to hurt.

Lisa had been sweet, too. But Lisa had a streetsmart edge that made her a kickass single mom long before Dean came into the picture. Plus, Lisa and Ben had the benefit of having their minds erased - thanks, Cas - of Dean’s existence after he’d put their lives in danger from being a part of his. If Dean tried the experiment again with Julie, there’d be no “Men in Black” take-it-back wipe. The once angel, now human, had lost his power after the final battle that had righted this world back on its axis two years ago. Jack was all human now, too.

The lack of celestial backup had been the hardest adjustment after over a decade of relying on it as a fail-safe. Dean could only imagine how it was for Cas. They’d had a few heart to hearts over whiskey, which now knocked Cas on his ass after one shot. The brother from another father had been to the mat for him and Sam more times than Dean could count. Helping save the world and giving up everything that made him special dropped Cas into a world of trivial every day that he would never snap out of. Not until he died. Which was another mindfuck for Cas. After centuries, he would die. There would be a finality to all of it. But, I’ll have my own version of heaven to look forward too, Dean. That’s something. I won’t be swallowed up by the empty and cease to be. My soul will be at peace. Dean had clapped his friend’s shoulder as he cried, realizing the same would happen to Jack. Someday.

After two years of keeping your nose as far out of normal as possible, you’ve got to go and mess with this sweet woman.

Dean tilted his head and started that inner debate he’d done too many times lately. To be fair, she started sniffing around me first.

Get off your high horse, asshole. You’ve been sniffed around dozens of times before and steered clear. You’re lonely and she’s so far from what you deserve that you’re curious. You wanna see if you can make something stick. Like Sammy has with Eileen.

Sammy’s moved on and is trying to build a life. Why shouldn’t I?

Because you’re a speeding train with non-existent brakes heading straight towards the edge of a cliff, that’s why. Fucking train wreck on bow legs.

The phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. Julie was calling. It was 7:30 am. The emotional lashing removed from his psyche, swiped away with Baby’s windshield wipers. It was replaced by that feeling she’d been stirring up within him more lately. It was more than arousal. He denied himself to define it. If he did, it might disappear.

He accepted the call on the fourth ring while clearing his throat. “Well, good morning, beautiful.”

“Hey, Dean.” Her voice was lighter this morning, more like the tone he was used to hearing. Not that he at all minded the lower, commanding pitch of the indecent woman he got a preview of last night. Shit. His erection was growing. He shifted in his seat.

“Couldn’t wait for me to check in first, huh?”

She laughed. “Guess not. I didn’t see your car when I got up this morning. Things okay?”

“Yeah. Things are good.” He grinned and tapped a button on his phone.

“Are you trying to FaceTime me?”

“Sounds dirty.”

She laughed again. “Everything sounds dirty to you.” She sighed trying to sound done with him, but he knew she wasn’t. “Hold on.” He held the phone back. His screen only provided a quick preview of his own state. Bags under his eyes and unshaven, he didn’t look as put together as the night before.

The screen switched to a view of Julie. Her brown hair was up in a bun. The hair looked freshly washed as did the rest of her enticing olive colored skin. When I make her blush it’s got splotches of cotton candy pink all over it. He appreciated the slope and curve of her neck. Big, brown almond-shaped eyes stared him down, studying him, from behind glasses. He’d put her in the role of hot librarian in a few of his release sessions. He particularly liked the one where she was bent over a desk and he was fucking her from behind hard enough to knock books off nearby shelves. He had a sneaking suspicion she’d be up for that kind of roleplaying. He really liked her in those tight button up shirts she wore to work a lot.

Her voice brought him out of his erotic daydreaming. “You’re lucky I’m presentable. Or, I would have denied you.” She quipped. There it was, that little hint of dominance. It came out on occasion and thrilled him with the facets and possibilities of this seemingly normal, but very interesting, woman. “Where are you?”

“Outside Cas’s house.”

“You’re over Cas’s already?”

“Yeah. He asked if I’d talk to the kid. I had to get here early.” She sipped at her large mug of coffee and sat at her kitchen table. “Jack’s apparently planning a trip to visit a girl he met online. Was going to buy a plane ticket and leave today.”

Julie’s already big eyes widened farther. “Wow. When you say kid…”

Dean scratched at the stubble. “He’s twenty. Kid to me. Plus, Jack’s also…” He opened his mouth to attempt a description but shook his head instead.

Julie grinned. “Special?”

Dean nodded. “Must be hereditary.” Or a common “I was once an angel and I’m trying to figure out how to be human” thing. Fuck my life. How would this woman ever understand and be okay with even an ounce of this insanity?

“Still there? I think you froze.”

Dean had gone into his thoughts long enough for Julie to think the connection had been lost. “I’m here.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been tough. Cas tried to shelter him from a lot of things. Can’t control him anymore.”

Julie shrugged. “Well, no, of course not. He’s his own person. He’s going to have to make mistakes and learn from them.”

“Yeah. This might end up being more of an intervention for Cas, I think.”

She gave him a slight smile. “I hope things go well.”

“Thanks.” His mouth perked up. “What are you doing later?”

Julie grinned. “Wasn’t planning on much today. Run some errands after breakfast. Lazy Saturday.”

“Can I come by?”

Her eyes lit up. “Of course. But you might want to rest up first. You look tired.”

He puckered his lips together in thought before he asked, “are you planning to wear me out?”

She nodded. “Lots of pent up frustration I need to get out.”

His tongue swiped over his top lip. “Can’t wait.”

That produced a giggle and shake of her head. “Bye, Dean.” She waved a few fingers in front of her face.

“Bye, Jules.” She ended the call first. He didn’t think he would have been able to. He much rather preferred hiding in his car, staring at that pretty face, than having to go and do something even close to parenting with Jack. Hell, I’ll be parenting Cas today, too.

He groaned along with the hinges of Baby’s driver side door as he got out.

~~~~~

Dean drove back into his neighborhood and past Julie’s house around two o’clock. Her little blue compact wasn’t under the carport. Damn toy car. He shook his head. At least it’s a Chevy.

Dean had taken a sensible approach with Jack. When he got down to the nuts and bolts of it all, the kid was bored and looking for an adventure. And horny as hell. Something Dean could easily relate to at that particular moment. It took some time, but Dean convinced him to save up his earnings from his upcoming summer job. If things were still hot and heavy long distance with this girl, he should take a trip to see her in Texas during Winter break. For now, Dean enlightened him to the beauty and intricacies of sexting and phone sex. Jack was all smiles by the time Dean had left Cas’s house.

Once Dean pulled into his own driveway, he texted Julie. Just got home. Going to pass out. Call when you get home. I’ll jump the fence and be right over. He smirked, happy with the blend of eagerness and cheese in his composition. A decision to shower before his nap set him back fifteen minutes. The warm water relaxed and the steam released the residual alcohol from his pores. Sleep was merciful and came as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He stirred and was half-woken up to Wes’s voice drifting in from his open bedroom window. A pillow was about to be used to muffle the disruption when he identified another voice and cocked his head to listen.

Brigida? What the hell is she doing here? Dean moaned. Ugh, am I gonna get cockblocked by the feisty little Italian mother, too?

“It’s not like Giulia. I told her to come by and pick up some sausage and peppers I made. She said she’d be by around 11:00. And, now, she’s not picking up her phone. It doesn’t even ring, Wes. Just goes to that voicemail. And the map thingy says she’s here still. What does that mean?”

Wes mumbled something Dean couldn’t quite make out. He reached for his phone on the nightstand and checked the screen. No notifications appeared. He tapped his messages to make sure he hadn’t missed a reply from Julie. Nothing. His lips pursed. He tried to call her. Straight to voicemail. His heart sped up when he noticed the time. Six o’clock.

Dean shot up in bed, already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He pulled on some sneakers and hurried out to the backyard.

Brigida stood near the divide between Julie and Wes’s backyard. A large aluminum tray rested on her forearms and her purse dangled at the elbow. Wes was at his grill down near the edge of his own driveway. She and Wes both turned to Dean at his approach toward the fenceline.

“Dean-ah. Have you seen Giulia today?” There was no smile on her face in the greeting. The little lady was on a mission.

“I haven’t, Brigida.” His hands gripped the fence. “Everything alright?”

She shook her head. Her mouth opened and shut. “I- it’s not like her.” Her lips began to quiver.

Aw, hell. Dean jumped over the fence and rushed to Brigida. He pulled one of the patio chairs close to her short, stocky frame. Easing her to sit, he removed the warm tray from her grip and placed it on the table.

Wes came to her side with a pair of greasy tongs in hand. “I’m sure it’s nothing and Julie’s alright, Mamma.” Wes bumbled out the soothing statement. A stale stench of alcohol and pot emanated from the hippie.

Dean knelt down to talk to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Did you knock on her door, ring the doorbell, Brigida?”

She nodded.

He pressed further. “Don’t you have a key? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you let yourself in to check on her.”

“Wes told me he saw her leave earlier. And, I didn’t want to go in there by myself.” Her eyes darted to Wes and back to Dean. She leaned in and tried her best to whisper. “I thought, if she was home, she might be busy and didn’t want to walk in on… well, now that I know you were at your house and alone…”

Dean waited for more clarification. Someone else might have missed the tiniest of smiles on her aging lips. But, not Dean. “When I talked to her this morning, she said she might be seeing you later. Told me she had a nice time on your date last night.”

Wes tapped his tongs together at that bit of information. Dean smiled. Warmth shot over his cheeks. “Ah. Well, when I got home this afternoon her car wasn’t here.”

“When was that?” Brigida asked.

“About two.”

“Should we call the police?” Brigida pulled her phone out of her purse.

Dean shook his head. “Police won’t do anything. They’ll say it’s only been a few hours, really, since anyone’s heard…”

“It’s not like her.” Brigida repeated. “Something’s wrong.”

Dean nodded and patted her shoulder again. He’d only known Julie for a few weeks but even he knew something wasn’t right. From their texts and conversations, he’d found out a lot about the relationship she had with her mother. They were extraordinarily close. Their communications were daily.

Brigida wouldn’t be left waiting around without an explanation. Julie would have known it would result in a car ride over to check to see what happened. It made no difference that her adult daughter was competent and independent. Even if there was some possible hanky panky going on with Dean, Brigida made it abundantly clear she’d knock on doors and ring doorbells and wait in a backyard until her daughter told her everything was fine. This woman, who immigrated from Italy with no more than an elementary school education, was a fierce protector who would not be ignored. Dean made a mental note to not get on her bad side.

But first, they had to find Julie.

“I saw Julie leave around ten. I was working on the garden.” Wes piped in.

By now, Samuel had come out of the house and wandered over to the discussion. “What’s wrong?”

“Julie’s missing.” Wes stated.

“Missing?” Samuel’s eyes bugged out in alarm.

Dean stood up, his hand still on Brigida’s shoulder. He could feel her beginning to shake. “She’s not missing.” He attempted to defuse the escalation and nodded down to Brigida. “We’re just trying to figure out what might be keeping her out this long. She hasn’t been in contact with anyone.”

Samuel nodded back at Dean and placed a hand on Wes’s shoulder as well. Dean knew Samuel would try to redirect his partner with the phrasing of his words. “She did leave around ten. I was taking care of the flower beds out front.” Samuel snapped a finger. “She talked to that woman passing out those flyers, Wes.”

“Flyers?”

Samuel clarified. “Missing dog. She came by our porch and asked if we’d keep an eye out, right before she went over to Julie’s.”

“Pretty chocolate lab.” The expression on Wes’s face about the dog matched Brigida’s, thinking about Julie. “Where’s that flyer?” Wes slipped from under Samuel’s grip and went towards the direction of the grill. Man needs a leash. Dean shook his head.

Samuel sighed. “Julie seemed to know her. They talked for a few minutes at the end of her driveway. I’d gone back into the house for something. I saw Julie’s car driving up the lane when I came back out.”

“But, you’ve never seen that woman before?”

Samuel shook his head.

Wes shot back with the flyer and handed it to Dean. Aside from a picture and the name of the dog, there was only a number to call if someone could provide information. Dean turned the paper over but there was nothing on the back. A detail about Wes and Samuel’s house popped into his head. “You guys have one of those doorbell cameras, don’t you?”

Samuel smiled. “Yep.” He pulled out his phone, already going into the app to pull up the time in question.

“How about I get you something to eat, Mamma?” Wes asked Brigida.

She waved a hand in silence.

“Here it is.” Samuel passed his phone over to Dean.

He squinted at the video, impressed with the image’s clarity. His eyes widened in recognition. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Brigida, Wes, and Samuel asked in unison.

“I’ve seen Cocoa’s owner before. Last night, actually. At the restaurant we went to. She did know Julie.” Dean’s mind started putting puzzle pieces together.

“Maybe she’ll know where she was going.” Brigida exclaimed.

Dean raised a finger and pulled out his phone. He copied the number from the flyer into his keypad and dialed. His mouth pursed when it went straight to voicemail and he listened to the generic robot voice repeating the number. He waited for the beep. "Hi, I've got some info on your lost dog, Cocoa. You can reach me at the following number." After leaving his cell contact he hung up. He turned to Brigida. "I'll see what I can get out of her when she calls back."

"But, she'll be all hopeful about Cocoa," Wes began.

“What restaurant?” Brigida stood up. “We should go over there and talk to her.”

Dean nodded with caution. “Absolutely, Brigida. I’m going to go and do that right now.” He forced her to stare at him. “You’re going to stay here, with Wes and Samuel, in case Julie comes back home. Alright? I promise, I’ll let you know if I find out anything. With your permission, can I go into Julie's house with you and take a quick look around before I head out?”

“Of course.” She patted his cheek. “Such a good man.” She fished the key out of her purse, ready to walk up to the sliding door.

He shot Brigida a smile, attempting to hide his own worry. “Let’s get you inside so you can wait for your daughter to come home.”

~~~~~

Dean had inspected every room in Julie’s home. His inner radar picked up nothing weird or unusual. He wished he had his EMF meter with him. Next time I’m here I’ll do a proper sweep for her. When Julie’s back. Just to make sure she won’t have an unruly specter to contend with after this is over. And she’s back.

All he deduced was proof of a life being unpacked, reorganized, and put back together again. He’d stolen a few seconds in her office to stare at the picture of a teenage Julie with her awkward prom date. In her bedroom, he sniffed at the perfume bottle holding the scent she’d worn last night. Though nothing was amiss, the tangible remnants of her existence filled Dean with dread. Here. Then gone. In an instant. So many people in his life had disappeared like that. Not Julie, too.

He refused to rile up Julie’s mother with any more fear than she was already producing. She gave him an unexpected, long, and strong hug for a woman of her diminutive stature. “Find her, please.” He gave her a slight smile and rushed out into the backyard only to freeze on the lawn, unsure of his next step.

Possible ways to track her down ticked through Dean’s head. I could call in that favor.

A scroll through his phone’s contacts skidded to a stop. “Detective Tullman.” The thick southern accent answered.

“Marty. Dean Winchester.”

“Ah, Dean.” Dean had heard that particular phrase with that hesitant inflection countless times by a select group of people. These individuals crossed paths with Dean in his other line of work. Everything they knew of the world had been upended in an instant; usually the instant when Dean showed up on their doorstep. An encounter pulled them into the nastiness that lived under the translucent veil of normality.

“What can I do ya for? Aren’t in a jail cell sleepin’ off a bender, are ya?” The detective’s tone changed as Dean knew it would. What had started out a year back as a collaborative and mutually beneficial meeting on a standard bail enforcement job escalated into something much worse. Marty called Dean to relay his skip had been found; shot by a security guard after a bank robbery attempt in Newark. He was in an ambulance headed to the trauma center at the nearest hospital. His accomplice had escaped and was on the loose.

Only problem was, Dean was staring at his skip in a backyard that belonged to an apparent girlfriend. Was he sure they had the right guy? Dean sent Marty a picture of the person he was watching. The detective high-tailed it to the house a mile from the crime scene. The fucking thing shed its skin in the tiny yard while he and Marty looked on in bewilderment over the top of the wooden fence.

A chase ensued near abandoned train tracks. Marty bum rushed it to the ground but got overpowered. The monster pulled a knife from its boot and raised it over its head. Sunshine glinted off the blade as it readied to sink the tip into the detective’s chest. Dean shot the knife out of its grip. He followed by firing two silver bullets into its heart. What he was pretty certain was the dead body of a shapeshifter slumped on top of Marty.

Thoughts and details came together in Marty’s head once the shock wore off. The body in front of him was the other bank robber. He, or it, had known the skip for a while and were low level partners in crime. Dean suggested the shifter may have had a hard on for the other guy’s girl, who thankfully wasn’t home. Most monsters also battled human vices. Lust and greed were a common denominator.

The detective came up with a story to cover their combined asses. They both spent a couple hours at the shootout location rehashing it over and over. Dean watched Marty hold his shit together quite well with a ton of law enforcement, CSI, and emergency personnel swarming like bees for evidence and details.

Dean and Marty bonded over cold beers at the closest bar. Dean found out Marty had been deployed to Iraq back in 2003. He’d been on the frontline of war for two years. He was a reliable, steadfast soldier. Nervous before a battle, but willing to put his life on the line for the greater good. They had a lot of commonality when it came to bloodshed. The nightmares that collided and crept into their days without warning simply involved different enemies.

“I need some help.”

Marty chuckled. “Ain’t gonna cost me my badge is it? I know I owe you my life, but I still got a wife and kids to feed.”

“Shouldn’t. Friend’s gone missing. It’s only been half a day, but it’s not adding up.”

“Local friend?”

“Yeah. Pike Creek.”

“Whaddya got for me?”

He smiled and rattled off Julie’s full name and the license plate he’d committed to memory. “Drives a blue, compact Chevy,” He added. “Five foot five. Long brown hair, probably in a ponytail, brown eyes, wears glasses. Italian, if that helps.”

“She cute?” Marty asked.

“Very.”

“Alrighty, I’ll have some guys keep an eye out in the area.”

“I’m gonna do my own investigating. Appreciate it, man. Thanks.”

“Thank me if I find ya somethin’.” He hung up.

Samuel popped into Dean’s view from under Julie’s covered patio. “What are you going to do when you get to the restaurant?” The balding man folded up his glasses and hung them from the collar of his t-shirt. Dean had learned from interactions over the past two years that Samuel was sharp and much harder to misdirect than Wes.

“Just ask this woman some questions.” Dean began his cut through their backyard to shorten the walk back to the house. He wasn’t keen on hopping the fence again.

Samuel kept pace with his quick steps. “Why would she answer any of your questions?”

“She saw me with Julie last night. I’m not some random stalker.” He tapped Samuel’s elbow. “Don’t you worry. I have some other tricks up my sleeve.”

“I’m sure you do.” His tone was hopeful.

Are you really flirting with me, dude? Now? “Listen, Samuel. Would you sit with her? I’d ask Wes, but…”

“Brigida doesn’t need unintentional, emotional triggering.” Samuel nodded. “You’ve got my and Wes’s number, right? Call one of us with good news.”

When Dean slid into Baby’s driver seat fifteen minutes later, he’d donned a suit that had been hanging in his closet, unworn, for over six months. That was the last time he had impersonated an FBI agent. The badge was still in the jacket’s inside pocket.

His hunting trips, the ones that had always really mattered, were few and far between now. Six months ago, he’d introduced himself as agent Agent Barrow on that excursion near Atlantic City. The four-day ghost investigation ended with a salt and burn. The corpse was found buried on the grounds of an abandoned chemical plant.

Noxious fumes had permeated the air around him with each shovel full of earth. The stench seeped into and clung to the well-creased suit pants. He should have changed before the dig; that is, if he’d remembered to bring a change of clothes from the motel to start. He was getting rusty from a lack of daily discipline, forgetting what had become rote for decades.

He remembered hiking back to Baby around two am, exhausted, after exhuming the remains. There was no way he was contaminating the car’s interior with that smell. So he drove back to the motel wearing only his boxers, dress shoes, socks, and his watch. The stinky clothes were stuffed in a garbage bag. After he helped the soul find peace, his reward was walking through the motel parking lot, up a flight of stairs, to his second floor room in only his skivvies. Had to get the damn suit dry cleaned, too.

Dean caught a light whiff of the chemicals, hopelessly embedded in the suit threads forever. His mind raced with a million thoughts driving to Makenzie’s steakhouse. But Julie was at the forefront of them. It was a long twenty minute drive.

Find her, please. How many times had he heard similar distressing requests? Hundreds, maybe. All of them had a missing loved one they were desperate to track down and bring home safe. How many times had he not been able to do that? Not today. He shook his head and tried to smile. She’s not done with me yet.

Julie’s voice bubbled up into his mind when he glanced at the passenger seat.

“So, Baby belonged to your Dad?” She attempted some conversation as Dean raced to beat the reservation.

“Yep.” He responded, eyes on the road swerving in and out of traffic. Once he was happy with his spot in the fast lane, no one in front of him for a good stretch, he cocked his head in her direction. Her eyes, big and brown, inspected the interior while her hand clamped on the door handle. “Pretty, isn’t she?” Dean smirked, proud.

“She is. Almost as pretty as her owner.” Her gaze locked onto his lips.

“Hey now.” He put on the show he knew she wanted and licked them nice and slow. “She’ll get offended, you thinking I’m prettier.”

“I’m sorry, Baby.” She stroked the dash. “It’s true, though.”

Dean laughed. “I’m pretty, huh?” He shot back at Julie and glanced in the rearview mirror before crossing over three lanes of traffic to get off the interstate.

Julie gasped. “Going to kill us before our date even gets started. If you’re going to drive like a maniac, you should at least be wearing a seatbelt.”

Baby careened down the ramp. When he got onto the avenue, his grip lifted off the wheel to fasten his lap belt. Both hands raised up in the air and he used his knee to steer. “Happy?” He reveled in her surprised reaction. The combo of scared and pissed off made her look even cuter.

“Okay, show-off.” She pointed at the wheel. “Hands at ten and two. Now.”

“Bossy.” He mumbled, returned his hands to the correct placement on the wheel, and pretended he wasn’t turned on by her commanding behavior. Slowing down in traffic, he shot her a sassy grin. “You done?”

“Done? “With you?” She tossed back with an equal amount of sass. “Just getting started.”

His ringing phone shot him out of his recollection. A glimmer of hope filled his voice as he answered. “Got something for me, detective?”

“Not sure if it’s anything good, my friend.” Marty was a straight shooter. “Officer found her car in a shopping center parking lot. Mile down the road from her house, in your neighborhood.” Marty was very good at his job. He didn’t miss a detail and double checked every bit of info. “No one in the vehicle. I’ve asked my guy to go into the stores and ask around. Have her paged, if needed. As long as we don’t get another emergency that takes him away, he’s on it for the next hour.”

It wasn’t bad news. Yet.

Part 12

Series Page

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