#i have to. that's my wife and it's her birthday today art block be damned

[astragatwo]

Bored as hell

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Here it’s folks! Final part of my Queen inspired AU. I wanted to post it yesterday but got busy with school, sorry for the small delay. I hope you enjoy it! ☺️

Somebody to love — Part Two

Cassian knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.

He had received Nesta’s break up text three days ago out of the blue, and had been trying to reach her ever since.

She had blocked his contact. Had left her apartment.

So he contacted Emerie, which also didn’t answer any of his questions.

He didn’t have much luck with her sisters either.

His friends knew something had happened between him and Nesta, but hadn’t pried after seeing Cassian’s distressed face.

He hadn’t wanted to go out today. Specially after Azriel — Azriel of all people — suggested they go to the karaoke bar.

But he didn’t want to worry his friends any longer. And it had been an awful long time since they had gone out with Mor.

However, when they walked in and he heard a familiar voice — her voice — he wanted to grab Azriel and kiss him in gratitude.

Cassian couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Couldn’t stop listening to her sing.

He had always loved her voice. And when they had come here for their first date and he heard her sing... that was it for him.

When Nesta sang it was as if the whole world stopped to listen. She connected with the song, the way she felt everything so intensely giving a deeper meaning to the lyrics.

‘That’s my chance’ he thought while Nesta finished the song ‘I’m going to talk to her right now’

But when their eyes met and he saw how pissed she became, and how she started to argue with Feyre — no doubt thinking her younger sister had spilled the beans to Rhys, who in turn told him — he knew he had to act fast. So he did the first thing he thought of.

He got on the stage.

And decided he was going to win her back by redoing their first date, although with some slight changes.

“Nesta Archeron?” Cassian said on the microphone, hoping his voice didn’t give away how nervous he was.

He saw her nod in the crowd, and almost released a sight of relief. He had caught her off guard, good.

“This song is for you”

He just hoped she stayed long enough to hear what he had to say.

This thing called love, I just can't handle it

This thing called love, I must get round to it

Cassian had been head over heels for Nesta Archeron since five years ago when he met her at Feyre’s birthday party.

He became friends with her.

He had teased her.

He had shamelessly flirted with her.

Until, after much pestering from his part, she finally agreed to go on a date with him.

I ain't ready

Crazy little thing called love

In their first date, he had sang “Treasure”, by Bruno Mars.

He had been nervous as hell. He had this super elaborate plan on his head that went flying out of the window when he heard her sing.

He knew she must feel at least something towards him, if the way she reacted to his flirting was any indication.

Or the way he had caught her glancing at him when she thought nobody was looking.

This thing (this thing)

Called love (called love)

It cries (like a baby)

In a cradle all night

Still, Cassian couldn’t help but think that he had misinterpreted her.

Maybe all of that was just his mind playing tricks on him. Just wishful thinking of his.

But Cassian sang the damn song, and when he got off stage and came face to face with an expressionless Nesta, he felt his heart stop beating.

It swings (woo woo)

It jives (woo woo)

It shakes all over like a jelly fish

I kinda like it

Crazy little thing called love

Yet it went back to normal just fine after Nesta gave him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

And she kissed him.

Grabbed his T-shirt and pulled him towards her, smashing her lips against his.

Cassian thought if he died right then and there he would have been the happiest man to have ever lived.

There goes my baby

She knows how to rock 'n' roll

Deciding to spice things up a bit, Cassian jumped from the stage. And started to dance towards a very much shocked Nesta.

She drives me crazy

She gives me hot and cold fever

Then she leaves me in a cool cool sweat

He was singing for her. Only her. Screw the rest of the bar. Screw his friends who were probably filming it all.

Nesta Archeron was the only one right now who deserved his attention and thoughts.

I gotta be cool, relax, get hip

And get on my track's

Cassian grabbed her hand with his free one, pulling her closer to him.

And then he was dancing with her.

Take a back seat, hitch-hike

And take a long ride on my motorbike

Cassian could swear he saw the corner of Nesta’s mouth turn up in a tentative smile.

He cheered internally.

She hadn’t punched him yet. That was a victory.

Until I'm ready

Crazy little thing called love

He stopped dancing. Stopped singing.

Never mind that there was still two verses left. He had to take his shoot now.

Cassian blindly gave the microphone to a guy standing near them.

“You” he said, not taking his eyes or hands away from Nesta “It’s your turn. Go on now”

Taking the hint, the guy grabbed the microphone and went to the stage, Feyre, Elain and Emerie also taking the opportunity to leave them alone, going to greet their friends.

But that small moment was enough to make Nesta snap back to reality.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said, snatching her hand and taking a step back from him.

“Nesta” he breathed “Talk to me sweetheart. What happened?”

“Her” she answered, pointing at where their friends where standing “Her is what happened. How could you? How could you bring her here!”

“Wait, you’re talking about Mor?” to say Cassian was confused was an understatement. He was completely lost.

“Oh, so she has a name.” Nesta snorted, but Cassian knew her. He knew she was hurt. But he didn’t see why.

“Nesta, explain what this is all about. Because I’ve no damn idea what’s going on.”

“I saw you. With her. I finished my book before the deadline and wanted to make a surprise for you” she stopped to take a deep breath, and Cassian could see she was trying not to cry “I saw both of you on the sidewalk when I stopped at a traffic light. And you looked so happy, so carefree.”

“Nesta—“

“You have been so nervous around me these past weeks. I thought—I thought you were cheating on me. That you were trying to break things up but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. So I did it first” she bit her lip, and Cassian didn’t know if he should hug her for all the pain she must be feeling or shake her for thinking he could cheat on her.

“Mor is Rhysand’s cousin” he began, trying to appeal to her “She has been living abroad these past years as a diplomat, that’s why you never met her”

Nesta opened her mouth to say something, but Cassian beat her to it.

“She’s a childhood friend. I was happy because we haven’t seen each other in ages” he pointed at the redhead that was chatting animatedly with Rhysand “And because we both had rather good news. Mor is engaged to Vassa. She came back to visit and invite us all to the wedding.”

“Oh” Nesta opened her mouth in surprise, her cheeks pinking in shame.

“Oh indeed” Cassian laughed, shaking his head.

“But you just said that you ‘both had great news’. What do you mean?” it was Nesta’s turn to be confused.

“This is the good news” Cassian said, getting down on one knee “I have been nervous and quiet these past weeks because all I could think of was how to come up with a perfect plan. I thought of asking you after you finished your book, so you’d be less worried and we could celebrate both things in style”

He took a small velvet box from his jacket and Nesta’s eyes widened in shock.

“Cassian—”

“I have been carrying this with me for a long time now” he prayed she didn’t notice how his hands were shaking as he opened the small box “I love you Nesta Archeron and I want you to get through your tick-head that you are the only woman out there for me. You have ruined me for everyone else”

“I— Cassian, you don’t have to do this because of my insecurities”

“Did you not hear me woman? I absolutely adore you. I worship the ground you walk. I’m doing this because I want to. Because I want to do like Beyoncé said and put a ring on what I like. So please say yes, because I won’t be able to suffer anymore heartbreak than what I’ve felt these past three days” he took a deep breath “Be my wife Nesta Archeron. Be my wife and fight me, flirt with me and love me”

“Yes. A thousand times yes” happy tears were running down Nesta’s face as Cassian placed the wedding band on her finger — a single gold ring adorned by a single round-cut blue stone, the exact colour of her eyes.

“It was about bloody time” he growled, getting up to kiss Nesta, pouring all of his love and adoration for her in that kiss.

They were so focused on each other that they did not notice the bar applauding them, Feyre and Emerie crying, Rhysand filming it all while Mor and Vassa watched everything with curiosity, or Amren raising her drink in a silent toast.

And they didn’t see Azriel and Elain high-fiving each other, both of them smiling with self satisfaction.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030-blog @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555

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[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 25: Owing Zero

/ Previous chapters /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing:  Rafael Barba x Female OC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel​ 

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: With her spirits lifted a bit, Montserrat returns to work. In the end, though, she has some special advice as a farewell to her old partner.

Flashes of cop cars and ambulances illuminated the night street. SVU had picked up a robbery and rape late in the night and were all over the scene.

"You're here," Sonny's surprise made Montserrat roll her eyes, though there was a tiny smile on her face as she walked up to the scene.

She definitely looked more put together than the last time they'd seen her. There was that sneaky smile on her face, the glint of 'it's time to work' was back in her eyes. "Who else would it be?" she responded since she was aware, from Olivia's texts, that Amanda was MIA again.

You doin' better, then?" Sonny walked alongside her towards the victims' house, which turned out to be quite big and elegant.

"A little," Montserrat shrugged her shoulders. "So, what do we got?"

Sonny led her into the house that turned out to be even more elegant on the inside. It was crystal white, though now tarnished with overturned furniture and broken glass.

"It's a Brazilian diplomat's home. Perp uses the security keypad, enters, pulls a gun, ties the husband up, rapes the wife. He took some cash but left her jewelry and electronics."

Montserrat stopped in front of an empty wall that had marks of where a portrait once hung. "And I'm assuming we got some missing art?"

"Major case is sending over their art crimes expert," Sonny said and was met with surprised eyes.

"Art crimes expert?"

"Apparently some significant paintings were stolen."

Olivia walked into the home, along with Amanda, and was surprised to find Montserrat inside. However, the sergeant seemed to be pleased once it hit her. "Novak, glad to have you back."

Montserrat nodded. "Duty calls and I think I'm taking advantage of my sick days."

"Alright," Olivia looked ahead to where Fin was interviewing the presumed-to-be husband, "Let's go see what we have."

Amanda tailed behind the sergeant looking pretty rattled for a detective who'd been around these crimes more than she could count.

"Does Amanda seem off to you?" Montserrat meant only for Sonny to hear, but instead she got Nick on the side answering her.

"Yes! Finally someone agrees!"

"Okay…" Montserrat cleared her throat. Maybe she'd missed out more than she thought.

~ 0 ~

Though their case had the potential to be a big one since the victims were foreigners and diplomats, both of them seem to shut down.

Olivia had all the papers of their call last night set on the conference table. She was going through each of them just to make sure they had the right details since there was a clear contradiction between now and last night. "So the diplomat told the responding detective that he saw the rapist's face, but he told you that the rapist wore a mask?" he locked eyes with Fin since he was the one who interviewed the husband.

"Yeah," Fin gave the confirming nod.

"And how's the wife?"

"She shut down," Montserrat answered. She and Amanda tried to interview the wife but as soon as she saw them, she told them she didn't remember anything. "Maybe she's in shock."

"Or they know the perp and they're afraid of him," Sonny threw the idea out there which, logically thinking, could very well be it.

"Well, the assailant knew them-" Nick started counting off his fingers, "-knew their door code, which paintings to take…"

"So the rape is to throw us off?" Olivia made a face at him, not quite getting it.

"Or send a message."

"You know what? I can pull the front door security video, check for other cameras on the block," Amanda volunteered. She opened up her laptop to do the task but, for some reason, shifted when Nick moved to stand behind her and watch. "Okay, so the front door video's just gone."

"Well, the perp had to have taken it," Montserrat shrugged. "Not surprising. If anything, it just shows he's pretty damn smart."

"I found a good camera from across the street," Amanda said, but Sonny yelped behind her since she was zipping through the feed.

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down! You can't see a thing!"

"I got it, Carisi," Amanda rolled her eyes.

"This is going nowhere," Nick moved to take a seat next to Montserrat. "The victim wouldn't even do a rape kit so we've got nothing from her."

"But CSU recovered semen and hair from the crime scene. They're running the DNA," Fin said.

"Then we wait," Olivia rose from her chair and looked at Montserrat. "My office, Novak."

Of course. Montserrat sighed but nodded. She got up from her seat, ignoring the looks from the rest of the squad, and followed Olivia to her office.

"You look a lot better today, Montse," Olivia said as soon as the door was shut. She flashed one of her mother-hen smiles at the detective.

"Yeah, well, a friend helped," Montserrat said softly.

Olivia noticed the smile Montserrat was trying to keep hidden. "Well, I'll be sure to thank Kara when I see her."

"Mhm," Montserrat's eyebrows raised together since her sarcasm was threatening to spill. Yeah, she'd let Olivia think it was Kara. Better that way.

"And look, I am sorry I visited your old Captain," Olivia knew that despite having the best intentions, she didn't go about it the right way. "I wanted to help and I-I wanted Carroll to know that you were not alone. I went over. I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Montserrat nodded. Olivia Benson was incapable of being evil. "I just...I don't know if that was good or bad for me. Carroll retired which...I don't know, could mean that she does feel guilty."

"Oh, believe me, she was," Olivia still remembered the way Carroll looked after she yelled in the woman's face. "It is despicable that she manipulated you into staying quiet."

"Manipulated…" Montserrat repeated with a heavy breath. She chewed on her lower lip and bitterly chuckled. "I never really thought about it like that. That I was...manipulated." The realization that she was a victim had been a terrible moment, but the fact she'd been manipulated by her own Captain - a woman she looked up to - was a close second.

"You know...I know that you don't want to press charges, but...have you considered confronting Carroll?" Olivia knew it was a troublesome idea to throw out there, but she only wanted Montserrat to get some type of closure. "It sounds difficult but...maybe it can do you some good."

"I...never thought about that," Montserrat admitted. "My last interaction with Captain Carroll was a formal but with a clearly tensed atmosphere. To see her again...I don't know what that would do to me. Plus, even if I wanted to, Jonah said she retired and that no one's been able to contact her since then."

"We'd find her," Olivia said with absolute certainty.

"I have to think about that," Montserrat decided it would be better to think about the option when she wasn't at work.

"Okay," Olivia nodded. "But I'm here for you, alright?"

A small smile graced Montserrat's face. "I know. A lot of people are."

~0~

"Hey, we got a hit on the DNA," Fin announced to the rest of the squad. "Carlos Riva."

Amanda blinked in what anytime would call shock. "A-are you sure? I mean, he's in the system, and he leaves his DNA at the scene?"

"I take back what I said about the 'smart' thing," Montserrat muttered to Sonny.

"Does he have any record?" Nick asked Fin.

"He got a gun charge that just got dropped."

"Well, how do we have his DNA then?" Amanda still couldn't get over her surprise.

"Had a misdemeanor last fall, stalking in the fourth degree. He got it pled down to domestic assault."

"Good thing New York finally authorized all crimes DNA," Montserrat waved her pen in the air.

"He must've not realized that," Amanda said slowly, as if coming to terms with it. "He must've thought that once the gun charge was dropped his DNA wasn't in the system."

"So we're looking for an idiot," Sonny remarked.

"Aren't we always?" Montserrat had to think about it.

"The arrest report says he was a driver at a Chelsea art gallery," Fun read off more from their report. "I say we follow up with this gallery, see if he still works there."

"Guys, I've been on 16 hours," Amanda rubbed her face and offered her team a weak smile, silently asking to be let free.

"You go," Fin told the blonde. "We got this."

As Amanda hurriedly grabbed her things and made a hasty stride out of the bullpen, Fin watched Nick's lingering look on her. "Whatever you're thinking…don't."

Nick didn't have to say anything to indicate he was dying to know what Amanda was doing. And truth be told, the others were curious too.

~0~

It'd been a while since Montserrat visited Dr. Weslin and she felt like there was a lot of things she needed to get off her chest. It started from her birthday - which was, in general, troublesome before anything else - to Rafael, then the setback with Captain Carroll and, most recently, Jonah's appearance. It was the only free space Montserrat could use to say everything she thought without fearing the consequences.

"I'm very sorry you've been having a rough time," Weslin said after Montserrat finally finished. "But the way you've handled things...I'm happy to see you dealing with them."

"Well, I don't think I've been dealing with them in the most mature way," Montserrat admitted. "I've been reclusive, I've-I've been screaming. I've done a lot of screaming actually." If it wasn't for professionalism, Weslin might have chuckled. Montserrat continued to think about her way of acting afterwards and made a face. "I'm not joking."

"No, I know you're not."

"But even after all that, my friends...they still helped me. I'm grateful for that." Montserrat nodded at herself but as she continued to think about her latest period of life, it was hard to keep a head held high all the time. "Even if things don't always work out...I am grateful...for things. People."

Weslin lowered her head as a curious expression settled across her face. "Do we want to continue about these certain people?"

Montserrat's face was an unsure one. "There's not much left to say."

Her defeated tone was something Weslin took note of. "Sounds like it's final."

"Isn't it?" a weak smile left Montserrat's face. Even if she didn't want to keep talking about it, the words kept leaving her mouth. She supposed it was the fact she had the reigns of the conversation here. "I just don't have the energy to keep arguing with Rafael about this. What's the point? He's as stubborn as I am. Changing his mind is...next to impossible."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Weslin offered the woman a kind smile.

Montserrat shrugged because it was the only thing she could think of to do. "Least now I can try to move on. But you know, if it wasn't for Kara putting these ideas in my head...none of this would've happened. I probably wouldn't even have looked twice at this…" her hand made a gesture in front of her, "...stubborn, snarky ADA." Weslin kept a locked stare on Montserrat, no real expression on her face but it was enough for Montserrat to think twice and sigh. "Okay, maybe I would have. Much later, but...probably would have."

"I think it's good for you to admit that out in the open," Weslin said. "It's part of that moving on thing you want to do."

Montserrat sighed again but agreed with Weslin. She couldn't move on if she didn't accept her fault. And part of her fault - if not all of it - was that she kissed Rafael because she wanted to. It was not Kara. It wasn't even Rafael. It was her. All her.

"Yeah, I know," Montserrat glumly said. "But you know, the parts where I should be more confrontational is where I am alarmingly not."

"How do you mean?"

"You know how I mentioned my old partner was in town? I sort of had my go with my sergeant because of what Jonah told me. Turns out Olivia visited my old Captain and now the woman, suddenly, retired."

"You think it was connected?"

"Oh, I know it was," Montserrat nodded. "Olivia confronted Carroll about silencing my entire rape case. I guess she guilt tripped Carroll so much she decided to leave the police department. And now Liv is suggesting I find Carroll so I can...get things off my chest."

"Confront her," Weslin concluded. "How did you respond?"

"Same as always: 'I don't know'," Montserrat shook her head. "Story of my life. This is my case - my unsolved, not even started case - and I'm not sure about anything."

"Well, let's start with this: how does the idea of seeing Captain Carroll make you feel?"

"Angry," Montserrat said instantly, almost automatically. It was a realization for her, actually. The idea she was still angry with her Captain - that she was angry in the first place was mind-rattling. "Oh my God...I'm angry with her."

Weslin watched silently as Montserrat came to the conclusion on her own. It was usually how it went in these sessions. With Montserrat thinking lucidly about things, her mind opened to new possibilities and...new realizations.

"I mean, I never really thought about how I felt towards Carroll. Back then, before I left Queens Homicide, I just thought Carroll was making a tough call. Not pursuing my case so that we could get this awful woman. And when I got out of there, I made my personal mission to erase everything from that place...including my old squad." Montserrat gazed down at her fingers that were picking at each other.

"Sometimes it's not about forgetting that gets you through," Weslin remarked. "You try to seal it away like it never happened. It doesn't necessarily bring closure."

"Confronting Carroll though…" Montserrat put some actual thought into the idea, now with the fact she would no doubt scream in the old woman's face, "It would be satisfying but...not the kind I'm looking for."

"How do you mean?" Weslin asked, though by the look on her face she might have already known what Montserrat would get at.

"Even if I do say everything to Carroll...I wouldn't be content...because it's not him," Montserrat particularly picked at a spot near her left hand's thumb nail. She'd already picked at it so much she'd drawn blood from it last night. "I could scream in Carroll's face, at everyone who silenced the case...but it wouldn't be enough." Her dark eyes looked up from her open thumb wound and, for a minute, displayed hard hatred. Her voice even lowered. "They're not the man who hurt me. And that's why I don't want to confront Carroll."

~ 0 ~

It really seemed like SVU couldn't catch a break this week. If it wasn't their victims, then it was their actual employees.

Montserrat tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as she watched footage of Amanda, wearing a cap meant to shield her face from security cameras, successfully checked out a gun belonging to the culprit of their recent rape. "This cannot be real," she looked up at Nick and Fin in shock.

"It is," Nick gave the low nod of his head. "I told you that something was up with her-"

Montserrat shut the laptop in front of her. "-yeah, but I thought she was just...I don't know...having a secret relationship or something! I didn't think it was...this!"

"That makes two," Sonny walked up to her desk with a cup of coffee in hand. He'd already watched the horrible footage.

"It gets worse," Fin hated to admit. "We got her at the Brazilian couple's house two nights ago when she was out sick."

"And there's more. Rollins brought in an elimination DNA sample-"

"-okay, stop!" Montserrat waved her hands to stop both of them. The more they went, the less she recognized Amanda. "I just...Amanda wouldn't do any of this stuff just because. She has to be in trouble."

"Doesn't matter, she's doing the wrong things now," Sonny shrugged. "We're showing this to Liv and...it'll be out of our hands."

"But we have to help Amanda too, not just throw her under the bus," Montserrat's insistence was met with some kind of agreement from Fin.

Still, Sonny was right. They needed to show everything they had to Olivia and let the sergeant make the decision how to proceed.

"Hey, where is Amanda right now?" Montserrat whispered to Sonny after Nick and Fin had gone into Olivia's office.

Sonny shrugged again. "Don't know. Called in sick again. But hey, I gotta ask you something…" Montserrat raised an eyebrow at his questionable shifting. "Kara just...she said she wanted to have dinner with her brother and her parents."

Montserrat really tried her best not to laugh. Sonny had suddenly become so nervous it was...yeah, she was a terrible person.

"I gotta ask how they are…" Sonny continued on, very grateful she wasn't laughing in his face already. "I've only met Damien once and that was for a few minutes."

"He's nice and funny," she waved him off. "And Kara's parents are so nice."

"Well yeah but they might only be nice to you because you're Kara's best friend. They might not share the same sentiment towards me…"

"...because you're screwing their daughter?"

Sonny deadpanned her and yet all she did was smile. He ultimately shook his head at her and moved on. "I am a little nervous here. It's tomorrow night at your place."

"Huh, Kara didn't mention that…" Montserrat paused to think but she realized she'd shut herself up and hadn't really given Kara a chance to talk to her. "But you'll be fine, Sonny. You have a natural born talent at being...charming." She rolled her eyes at his smug smile. "Don't get any wrong ideas, Carisi."

"Oh, don't worry, I know where your feelings lie." It was now Sonny's turn to smile innocently.

Montserrat, for her part, glared but only for a minute. "Whatever. Just be yourself and I'm sure everything will be fine. Oh!" she raised a finger in the air so suddenly that Sonny's eyes widened a bit. "But if you want to be extra sweet, bring in a souffle. Kara's mom loves a good souffle. It's funny, though, because Kara sucks at baking those."

"I know where I can get some good ones," Sonny started smiling as he thought about his gesture he'd definitely bring in. "Thanks, Montse."

"Of course," she shrugged. "You know I only kid about you and Kara, right? I actually am happy you guys are together and good."

Sonny smiled at the woman. "I know, Montse."

"Okay," Montserrat leaned back in her chair with a small smile. She then glanced in the direction of Olivia's office and wondered what the sergeant's reaction would be after hearing Amanda's rogue path.

~ 0 ~

That night, when Montserrat returned home, she saw Kara zipping around the apartment in an attempt to clean up. She had her hair tied up over her head, messy as if she'd been at this cleaning for hours. Without asking, Montserrat knew Kara must have been preparing for this dinner she hadn't known about.

"Hey!" Kara sent her roommate a cheery smile. "You're back! And early too!"

"Yeah, um, strange things are happening at SVU," Montserrat left it at. She wasn't even sure what Olivia and Fin would get out of talking with Amanda tonight. The woman was, as terrible as it sounded, done. If anything, Montserrat hoped they would at least be able to help Amanda recover.

"But you look better," Kara gestured at Montserrat's appearance. She tossed the rag in her hand to the coffee table. "I'm really glad to see it."

"Everyone says the same thing." Montserrat hated this awkwardness she knew she was responsible for. She'd been so rude to Kara and now...here she was.

Kara seemed to sense the awkwardness judging by the clearing of her throat. "So listen, I haven't had the chance to tell you…" she moved around the coffee table, "I'm having dinner-"

"-with Sonny and your family," Montserrat smiled at how shocked Kara was to learn that she already knew the plans. "Yeah, Sonny told me earlier. He's pretty nervous."

"Montse, I was planning on telling you but you were having a bad day and-"

Montserrat raised a hand to stop Kara. "It's okay, Kara. You didn't have to tell me-"

"-course I did," Kara nodded. "You're my best friend. I tell you everything just like...I hope you do too." Even if she didn't mean it in an accusing tone, she felt guilty for her choice of words. Still, Montserrat let it go because, well, Kara was right. "You're more than welcome to stay for dinner. You're part of my family too."

"It's okay, Kara. I can stay at Casey's," Montserrat shrugged. "But please tell me how nervous Sonny was because then I can tease him the next day."

Kara playfully rolled her eyes. "Glad to see you're definitely back." Montserrat agreed with a nod. "And you know, you could tell me anything...like what was upsetting you? I went on a rampage trying to find the culprit-"

"-I know," Montserrat once again nodded. "And thanks for that."

"I know it's none of my business but I have to ask if it was because of Rafael…?"

Montserrat visibly shifted. "It wasn't, actually. And you know what, while we're on this subject...I'd appreciate if we didn't bring up that topic anymore."

Kara's face softened once she realized Montserrat was planning on moving on. "So then...things are really over?"

Montserrat's eyebrows raised while her expression flickered between resignation and something akin to disheartening. "I guess so." She walked past Kara, letting her bag's strap fall from her shoulders. She tossed it to the couch and started pulling her coat off.

"Montse, I'm so sorry," Kara turned after her friend. "I was so sure you two would get together, I mean...you're kind of the same."

A loud snort left Montserrat's finger as she raised a finger in the air. "I don't know, maybe that's the problem. We're too much alike."

"Still..."

"Kara we're doing that thing I asked not to do anymore," Montserrat shook her head.

"Sorry," Kara dutifully apologized. "But I am sorry things didn't work out."

"Yeah," Montserrat sighed. She looked around the apartment and saw Kara had done quite a good job so far with the cleaning. "You want some help?"

"Um…" Kara bit her lip, "It's not your dinner. Definitely not your boyfriend. You don't have to-"

"-okay, I'll take over the living room and you finish the kitchen," Montserrat grabbed the rag Kara had tossed to the couch. "We'll finish faster if we do it together. Like always."

A grin came to Kara's face. "Like always."

~ 0 ~

Amanda Rollins was a force to be reckoned with. She not only duped con artists and most of SVU, but she finished an ongoing, 2 year undercover job in the span of three days. The only problem was the fact she lied all the way through it, even to her friends.

"What was I supposed to do? I was working undercover!" the blonde detective was having a shouting match with Nick in the bullpen. The others she could argue at a normal volume, but Nick was always more easily irritable. "I couldn't go blabbing it to everyone!"

"You didn't tell anyone," Sonny pointed out only to receive a death glare in return.

"I think what Sonny and the others mean to say is we're a little upset you had to keep it from us," Montserrat spoke up for the first time after hearing the entire story. "Not to say we don't understand why, because of course we understand why. Right, fellas?" she gave each of the men a warning look to just nod their heads.

"Rollins!" Olivia suddenly called from her office. They hadn't had the chance to speak with her since Amanda arrived, but the squad knew that Olivia was informed of Amanda's doings before they did.

Amanda took in a deep breath and turned for the office.

"She is about to get it," Nick muttered as he dropped into his desk.

Montserrat shot him a glare he completely missed. She understood that Amanda had done wrong, she absolutely understood, but now it was up to them to give the proper solution. The fact was Amanda had fallen into this mess because she'd been at an illegal gambling place and yet no one seemed to be paying attention to that detail. Montserrat did. She hoped Olivia did too.

Ten minutes after Amanda had been called into the office, the door re-opened and out came the blonde detective. She had red, glossy eyes she tried to keep hidden as she came to pick up her jacket from her desk.

"Hey Amanda-" Fin tried to talk to her but the woman made a hasty way out.

"That can't be good," Sonny remarked. Nick nodded and looked after Amanda.

Montserrat suddenly got up from her chair and turned for Olivia's office.

"What are you doing?" called Nick.

"Something stupid, probably," she answered on her way. She gave a light knock on the door and poked her head inside. "Liv?"

Olivia was at her desk, staring at some papers but Montserrat knew the woman hadn't been paying attention to them. "Did you need something?"

Montserrat walked in and shut the door. "I, um...Amanda just left?"

"Uh, yeah," Olivia gave a nod. "She's done."

Montserrat blinked as the words processed in her head. "She's...what? Like...done-done?"

"Yes," Olivia nodded again. "She's done here. I'm transferring her. We can spare one."

"Wait a minute," Montserrat hurried up to the desk and sat down. "You can't do that. She needs us."

"What?" Olivia gave the detective a crazed look. "You know what she did-"

"-yes and it's exactly why you can't send her away." Montserrat sighed and scooted her chair closer to the desk. "Amanda's hit rock bottom and instead of sending her away to some precinct that won't care about her...we should help her."

Olivia's mouth opened but nothing came out. She was stunned to hear this very different perspective on the situation. "She lied. A woman was raped-"

"-and do you honestly believe Amanda could have set that up? That she could've gone through with that?" Montserrat was horrified to see Olivia having to even consider it. "Olivia! Amanda has a problem. Please...please don't turn your back on her. You've helped me how many times?"

"That is different," Olivia pointed.

"No, it's not," Montserrat said quietly. "I was undercover too."

"That was your job that you did on legal terms. Amanda was at a gambling casino because she wanted to be!"

"And she regrets that! Olivia, you know that if you send Amanda away it'll only hurt her more. She can spiral without the right support." Montserrat paused for a moment to calm down. She didn't come in to argue. She wanted to make Olivia see her point. "You have helped me countless times and I know you've helped the others too. I think Amanda deserves the same. One more chance."

Olivia opened her mouth again but the words failed her and instead she sighed. She seemed tired...and with good reason. "I...I will think about it."

"Thank you," Montserrat rose from her chair. She walked out of the office and went straight to her desk.

"What did you do in there?" Sonny asked her as soon as she sat down.

"Just talked," the ginger smiled like nothing had happened.

By lunch time, Montserrat was confident Olivia had re-thought the whole transfer process. The Sergeant seemed to be in a better mood that would hopefully stay for when she spoke to Amanda again.

"I'm going out for lunch," Montserrat announced to the rest. "Anyone wanna join?"

"No thanks," Nick answered first, not even looking up from his screen. Fin said the same thing but at least he looked up to shake his head.

"Pass too," Sonny said last.

"Right, you'll be eating light for dinner tonight," she flashed him a smirk while she put her coat on. She grabbed her things and went on her way.

She made it into the elevator and down with ease. It was on her way out of the building that she came into some trouble...or perhaps not trouble just...annoyance.

"Montserrat," called Jonah from the sidewalk.

For a brief moment, Montserrat considered turning around and walking back into the precinct. She could do take out from her desk, after all. But, if she did that, then she wouldn't be able to say a couple things she thought of. "Haven't seen you in a few days," she remarked as she came down the final step of the precinct.

"Yeah, I, um...was giving you some space, to be honest," Jonah put his hands into his coat. "I'm sorry for demanding things from you. I'm just fed up with all this secrecy. First you leave us and then Carroll too? C'mon."

Montserrat's eyebrows knitted together as she tried to decide if this was an apology or the beginning of another demand. While she was stuck listening to Jonah, she missed the familiar figure walking towards the precinct.

Rafael recognized Jonah immediately. A wave of anger hit him first since he knew, in his mind was sure, that Jonah was responsible for Montserrat's recent mood. And then concern washed over. Concern that whatever Jonah said to Montserrat would make her fall back again. He had half a mind to go over there and take her away...but if he did that, Montserrat would surely kill him. But the closer he got, the more he could see her face and it honestly looked like she was going to be killing Jonah instead.

Nothing wrong with that, he thought then realized he actually thought that.

"I'm glad you came back, Jonah," Montserrat said honestly, "Because it gives me the chance to tell you something." Jonah looked expectant of her words so she delivered them without hesitation. "I don't owe you anything," she began and already surprised the man with her choice of words. "You were a great partner and the entire Queens squad was like a family to me, but not everything is what it seems over there. I don't regret leaving it and I definitely don't feel sorry that Carroll retired early."

Jonah was stunned. Very quickly his face turned into outrage and offense. "How can you say that!?"

"Very easily, actually," Montserrat said with a small smile. "Because I know that I am right. You don't know what happened and you never will. But hopefully without Carroll, your squad will be the best it could be."

"Montserrat...where is this coming from?" Jonah looked her over as if he wasn't seeing the same detective anymore.

"From my experience," Montserrat said loud and clear. She stepped closer to him, getting right in his face, "Watch your back."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Just something else I say from experience," she offered the man a small, polite, smile before stepping away. "Goodbye, Jonah." In that moment, she could not have felt more satisfied with herself.

It seemed like the same applied to Rafael. He knew that smug face anywhere. When Montserrat saw him, her smugness faltered but not by much.

"You seem to be in a good mood," he remarked.

"Am I?" she pretended to be casual but her widened smile betrayed her.

"What did you say to the poor man?" Rafael caught Jonah's figure heading down the opposite street. "Not that I feel sorry for him."

"Just the truth," Montserrat shrugged. "Actually, you kind of inspired me to do it."

"Oh, then I'm definitely not sorry for him."

Montserrat laughed. "Remember that thing you told me way back when I first started working here? No one being entitled to my secrets? You're still right about it."

As curious as he was to know what Montserrat was keeping back, Rafael wouldn't ask her. She seemed better this way and he wasn't going to ruin it. "I'm glad."

"That you're right?" Montserrat chuckled.

"No-"

"-just kidding! So, were you going in?" she made a nod at the precinct behind them.

"Yeah. Were you leaving?"

"For lunch. I'll be back later. Might get something completely barbecued."

Rafael's face scrunched at her. "That's blasphemy. Your tastes are…" he shook his head at her.

"I'll be sure to bring some back for you."

"Don't you dare," he said all too quickly.

Montserrat mirthlessly laughed at him. Oh yeah, she was back. Rafael definitely liked seeing her this way instead...even if it was her laughing at him.

"I'll see you later," he said after it started getting old. He moved around her but only a few steps away, she called him again. He turned sideways just as she walked up to him, looking more serious now.

"Thanks for talking to me the other day," she bit her lower lip as if things were suddenly nerve-wrecking. "For what you said. It was the reason I came back to work." She gently reached for one of his hands.

There was something in Rafael's chest that he couldn't make out. Seeing her open and...soft. Yes, he definitely wanted to hug her. My God are you 17? he berated himself. "I…" he had to clear his throat in order to speak normally, "...I'm glad I could help."

Montserrat leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She pulled away with a smile that widened when she saw his shocked face. "See you later."

"Mhm," was all that came out of his mouth. You are definitely 17. He watched her leave like he was frozen to his spot.

[blissfulalchemist]

“I made your favorite.” For CatRaf? 😘😘😘

Thank you for sending this in Jo! Please enjoy this little slice of life piece that I had so much fun writing!

“What day does dad come back again?” Liz asked as she hung upside down on the couch, The Old Man and the Sea in her hands as her long hair pooled to the floor beneath her, “I need to know when to get his present ready.”

Cat looked up from the stove to Liz, “You’re not going to try and deface property again are you?”

“I was joking,” she gave Liz a sideways glance, Liz changing her tune, “Well the shop owner gave me permission, not my fault it was the wrong one we needed.” Cat shook her head, turning the stove down, “Danny is the one that drew it,” Liz grumbled.

“But you let yourself take the fall for it,” she pointed out, her daughter letting out a huff, “You want to take a break from your homework for a little bit?”

Her brown eyes looked over to Catlina, narrowing slightly, “Depends,” Liz let her legs fall forward cartwheeling off the sofa, “What are you making?”

“The recipe your grandmother left for me to start,” Cat looked down re-reading the instructions making sure she understood what was written, “I feel like this doesn’t need that much paprika.”

Liz put her chin on her mom’s head, “Careful mom, you know how they can be about following the recipes. Dad had to get it from someone.”

“Hush you,” Cat said, laughing as she waved Liz off of her, “Will you start peeling the potatoes for me, please?”

Liz smiled, getting the peeler out, “You didn’t answer my question though.”

Cat hummed, “He flies in the twenty-ninth.”

“What are we going to be doing when he comes in? Are we celebrating his birthday first or Christmas? Cause I vote we get the capitalistic holiday out of the way first.”

Cat looked up to her daughter, eyes tired, “You love Christmas so don’t try to put your social justice airs on for me.” Liz scoffed mumbling to herself, “I think it’s going to be Christmas first. I don’t know what we can do for his birthday.”

Liz gave a solemn nod, “You left it to the last minute didn’t you?”

“I did not, now peel those potatoes,” Cat tied her hair up letting out a breath, “I just feel like we’ve done everything at some point for him. There’s nothing left to do that just feels special enough for him.”

Liz stopped peeling looking up, “I’ve never seen you make him any food for his birthday.” Her brow knitted together frowning, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two make anything for each other for events that special. What’s up with that? You two cook so often you think you would have at some point in my life.”

“That….,” Cat stopped thinking it over, “No we can’t. It became a rule and after all these years of peace, we don’t need World War Three happening.”

“There was already a threat of that mom,” Liz pointed out, “And I’m sure yours and dad’s isn’t going to live up to that one.”

“Watch yourself,” Cat warned, “Just trust me, it’s better for everyone if we don’t touch that flame.”

“Mom, it's not that difficult, all you have to do is make his favorite food and be done with it.” Liz put a hand on her hip, “Besides what can be more special than doing something he would never expect from you? You say it yourself all the time, you making food is a labor of love. Why is making something for dad on his birthday any different.” She stood straighter, “In fact I find that that qualifies as more reason for you to show him that you love him.”

Cat crossed her arms, Liz was right and she hated to admit it, “There’s also one hiccup in your plan honey,” Cat turned back to the stove, “I could never make the dish to his liking. He’s so particular about it. I’ve tried and just can never seem to get it right. Even he doesn’t like it when he makes it.” She gave a heavy sigh, “No one else can make it like his mom.”

Liz rolled her eyes, “Oh so tragic that she isn’t currently staying with her for a while.” Liz held a potato up after seeing the narrowed eyes her mom gave her, “I know, I know. Watch the sarcasm. But mom seriously just ask her to teach you. Grandma isn’t going to be offended, bet she wants to teach you.”

“I want to teach your mom what?” Raf’s mom asked as she walked in setting bags on the counter, Liz rushing to help her put the groceries away.

“How to make dad’s favorite dish,” Liz said giving her mom a smile, “She wants to do something special for his birthday.”

“Oh,” the older woman said looking at Cat, “is that all?” Cat nodded, glancing between the stove and her mother in law, her grey hair falling into her eyes as she pointed to some places in the kitchen, directing Liz where to put items. “Where’s your younger brother?”

“Sketching upstairs,” Liz saw the package of sweet rolls, longing to have one, “You got him his favorites didn’t you?”

“Of course I got them for my little Cielito,” she said sweetly, handing the bag over to Liz, “Here put these in the bread box with his name on it, Loquita.” Liz muttered under her breath as she put them away, going back to peeling the potatoes. She gave a clap of her hands turning to Cat, “Now what’s this I hear about you wanting to learn how to make my most secret recipe?”

“You don’t have to. I can always come up with something else to make or do. Liz just thought it would be nice because it’s something we never really do.”

“You never cooked for my boy?” She asked a serious note in her tone.

Cat’s eyes went wide, “Oh no. That’s-that’s not what I meant at all,” she stammered, “I cook, we cook, for each other all the time we just agreed to not on special occasions. It’s just you know- it makes life easier so we aren’t trying to pass the other one up.”

“You and that damn competition of yours,” she waved off, “You know there’s no beating him. But here,” she placed her hands on Cat’s shoulders, looking her in the eye, “I will teach you.”

Cat blinked a few times, “You will?”

“Of course. I can’t have that recipe lost just because I didn’t have a daughter of my own,” Cat and Liz opened their mouths to speak, “I only taught Raf the basics. He doesn’t have the permission to learn the secret ingredient. It’s why he can’t make it properly. Gotta keep the boy humble.”

Cat and Liz looked at each other shrugging, “Can’t blame you.”

“Exactly,” she gave a single clap before pointing to Liz, “Now you. Out of the kitchen. Go and find your brother.” She turned her eyes on Cat, who shifted under the woman’s gaze, “You finish that recipe so I can see just how much my son has taught you.”

“I-. Well we don’t have to start right now,” Cat watched as Liz made her way upstairs laughing to herself.

“I have to know where to begin with you,” she pointed a finger to the skillet on the stove, “because I already know you didn’t measure out the paprika.” She turned Cat to face the stove before taking a seat at the breakfast bar, “Now show me what you got.” Cat stared at the stove trying to remember where her place was. She turned ready to ask a question, “No you can’t have any help.”

Liz came back down the stairs, Danny following behind her, “Is this a test to see how good of a teacher dad is?”

“Grandma’s actually teaching mom how to cook?” Danny asked as he made his way into his grandmother’s outstretched arms, “This oughta be fun to watch.”

“Mom,” Liz said noticing how still Catlina had become, “You were on the sixth step.”

“I said no helping,” her grandma warned, looking down to the sketch book Danny had brought with him, “What are we working on today my Cielito?” 

She took it from him, as he sat down next to her, “Something for dad since our last attempt didn’t work out.”

“Awww,” she pinched his cheek, “Your sister should have done more research, so that your art could grace this county.”

Liz got a glass of water taking a sip, “And we wonder how dad could have ever gotten his ego,” she mumbled under her breath. Cat smiled holding back her laughter.

“I heard that Liz,” she said, not looking away from her grandson.

“Grandma, if not for Liz I’d have been arrested,” Danny reminded her.

She gasped pulling him close to her, “Oh, you’re right. Your face could not survive such horrors.” She gave a smile to her granddaughter, “Thank you Liz.”

“Wessy would have gotten him out before the paperwork was even finished,” Liz joked, rolling her eyes as she sat on the other side of Danny.

“How is Wes and his wife doing lately?” She asked watching as Cat made her way through the recipe picking up a serrated knife, “You need the chef’s knife, my Lina.” Cat nodded grabbing the one from the wooden block.

“They’re doing well, mom,” Cat said chopping up some of the potatoes, “Wes got a promotion and Wren has been doing a lot of great work with the kids and starting plans for connecting music therapy to the schools. They also really enjoyed the cookies you sent over to them for Christmas.”

“Of course they did. Are their kids still doing well in school?”

“Willow always does. Same with Wyatt when Liz doesn’t rope him in to something potentially stupid,” Danny teased.

“At least I’m not taking after my namesake and pining,” Liz gave him exaggerated puppy dog eyes.

“Danny is this true,” Raf’s mom asked.

Cat looked up to Danny seeing the blush creeping up his neck, “Yeah. I didn’t know you had a crush on someone at school.”

“It’s not a crush. We’re just friends,” he argued.

“And so were your father and Wes,” grandma stated, “Now I just want to know who so I can start listing off reasons why they aren’t good enough for you.”

Liz subtly flipped the sketch book a few pages to a sketch of the girl, “He draws pictures of her.”

Danny snatched up the book holding it close to his chest, “Liz,” she stuck her tongue out at him, “that’s not funny. She’s just my friend and these are from a school project that she helped me with.” His cheeks burned as Cat held her hand out for the sketch book.

“Give it here, it’s causing too many problems now,” Danny handed it over, his mom putting it on the counter, Raf’s mom looking at it over her glasses.

“Her hair is too curly,” the three of them gave a side glance to the old woman, “We’d lose the Estrada curl that’s too perfect.”

“Mom,” Cat said laughing.

“What? We just got lucky your dad’s hair had a curl that was close enough to ours,” she said ruffling Danny’s hair, “Now it’s even more perfect.”

Cat rolled her eyes, “Grandma how come you never ask Liz,” Danny looked his sister in the eyes as she took another sip of water, “if she ever has any crushes at school?”

“Liz do you have anybody that you like at school?” Liz stayed silent shaking her head, “See there we go.”

“That’s not fair,” he pouted, Cat shaking her head as she grabbed the small measuring spoons.

“Pobrecito Cielito, Liz doesn’t need the protection that you do,” she wrapped him in her arms, stroking his hair, “You’re soft and sweet just like your mother. You need someone perfect.”

Liz looked over curious, “So then what do I need?”

She didn’t look up to Liz, “You need a Wesley.”

Cat snorted, holding back her laughter as Liz’s mouth fell open, “What’s that supposed to mean, Grandma?”

She pulled away from Danny with a sigh, “It just means that while Danny here,” she cupped his face, “is soft and precious just like your mother,” she gave a smile to Cat before turning to Liz, “While you my dear are like your father.” 

Danny laughed pointing at his sister, “You’re bossy Liz!” Liz glared, lightly punching his arm. 

“So I just need someone to boss around?” She leaned back in the chair crossing her arms in a huff, “Well that’s not happening. Never going to find someone here like that.”

“No you won’t, because,” their grandma said pointing to Liz, “you need someone that will keep you grounded but appreciate your flying. If it was just a matter of who’s the boss and who’s not then your mother and father would have never worked out.”

“I feel that is our dynamic mom,” Cat said, putting the finishing touches on the meal, “He leads I follow.”

“Wrong.” Her finger moved from point at Liz to Cat, “You remind him how to lead. Don’t think I forgot the first Thanksfighting, you held your own against him. He did relent eventually,” Cat grabbed some plates from the cupboard brow knitting together, “He did. It’s harder to see but I know it when I see it.”

Cat shook her head making plates for them all, “Well no need to question something if it’s not broken. Danny, make your grandma some coffee, there’s hot water on the stove already.” He nodded making quick work of what his mom asked of him. “Shall we eat at the breakfast bar or the table?”

“This is fine,” Raf’s mom told Catlina, taking the mug from Danny, “Thank you. We might get to cooking lessons right away.” The four of them grew silent as they ate for a few minutes, Cat’s eyes not leaving her mother in law, waiting for her reaction. She gave a small shrug with a small frown, “It’s not bad, Lina,” Cat took a breath waiting for the rest, “but could use a little work.” She turned to Danny, “Danny! Get my chef’s coat!”

“Ohhh,” Liz started smiling, her laughter intermixing with her voice, “Mom’s in for a crash course in cooking.” 

“I love how you think you’re exempt from this Loquita,” her grandma laughed, “Come. If I’m gonna teach your mom, I’m going to save time and teach you too. Two generations taken care of.” 

Liz whined looking to Catlina for help, giving her daughter a shrug, “Estrada’s are nothing short of efficient.”

“I thought that was the Rojas’,” Liz argued.

Cat rolled her eyes, “It's from both sides. Besides this was your idea and I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

The week that followed stopped being fun pretty quickly as the three generations tried to work together in the kitchen. There was no formal recipe, so both had to pay close attention without getting in the other’s way, all the while Danny got to watch eating the sweet rolls and sketching the scenes from time to time. Raf’s mom made sure there was nothing but perfection from Liz and Cat, their days getting longer as the pieces came together, their bonding feeling more like a bootcamp. Finally, two days before Rafael’s expected return Danny was finally kicked out of the kitchen and sent to his room, the time finally coming for them to learn the secret step that was tradition for only the women to know. One that wasn’t mastered until twenty four hours before Raf’s return.

That night, Cat and Liz were tasked with making a portion each to make sure it was the perfection grandma expected. The two tired as they placed their plates in front of their judges, leaning against the counters. “I’m never listening to your ideas again mom,” Liz whispered.

“I don’t know what planet you just came from,” Cat narrowed her eyes at Liz, “but this was your idea.”

“And you should know better than to listen to me,” Cat rolled her eyes at the comment watching her mother in law. Cat’s hands starting to shake as her heart thundered in her chest, Is this what it feels like to be on the TV competitions?

Raf’s mom looked to Danny, the two giving curt nods, the older woman stepping down from the chair, arms outstretched. “Mijas,” she embraced them both, “It is perfect! I am so proud of you both.” When she pulled back her eyes looked at Liz first, “Yours can use a little work but you’re still young,” she gave a pinch on Liz’s cheek. 

Cat had started to laugh as the two discussed what needed to be fixed when her phone rang. Cat ran to it, her smile spreading seeing Raf’s picture on the screen, “Raf, please tell me they gave you an earlier flight. The kids and I miss you so much. We can’t wait for you to get home!”

He was silent a moment before letting out a sigh, “I know you do Conejito, but,” Cat’s face started to fall at his hesitancy, “there’s been some delays here because of the weather.”

“Oh,” Cat said crossing her arm across her chest, “You’re just gonna be a bit later than expected which is okay. We can all wait up for you.”

He gave a small laugh, “I’d love for nothing more than to see all your faces as soon as I walk through that door, but it’s expected to be an extra day, maybe a few more depending on how this storm goes.”

“I-I see,” she turned away from everyone else hiding her disappointment, “What does it mean if it’s longer than a day? Will you be able to extend your leave?”

“I can’t this time, mi amor. Worst case is that I would only get a few hours with you all,” she could hear the pain in his voice, “Which is fine, so long as I get to see you all, but we won’t be able to do much more than have lunch.” Cat stole a glance behind her to their kids, their faces growing sadder as they put two and two together. “Look, we just have to hope for the best okay. We do that and it’s going to all work out.”

Cat nodded, “You’re right. That’s all we have to do. In the end we get to see you still and that’s what matters.”

“Exactly, and don’t worry I’ll keep you updated,” she heard him swallow hard, “Are the kids there? I want to say hi to them.” 

“Yeah, your mom is here too still,” Cat handed the phone off to them making her way up the stairs to the master bedroom, wiping the tears from her face. It just didn’t seem fair that while he was away he only got so much time to fly overseas to see them, only for a storm to hit where he was making it harder for them to see each other. She gave a sigh making sure she looked presentable before making her way back downstairs. 

The next twelve hours were slow and filled with dread as they all waited for updates on what was happening with Raf. It was Liz that spoke up first during the family’s transition to another movie, “I can’t stand to mope about any more today! I’m calling Tia Wren to come and get us.”

“And do what,” Danny asked looking up from where he laid against Cat.

Liz stood putting her hands on her hips, “Anything but what we’ve been doing. Time will move faster if we go out and do something.” She held her hand out to her younger brother, “What do you say?”

Danny looked up to Cat, giving him a nod, “Alright let’s go call them.” He jumped up following Liz to the other room.

Raf’s mom moved to sit next to Cat, putting an arm around her, “I’ll drive them there. You stay here just in case he never got a chance to update us on his arrival.” She kissed the top of Cat’s head, “You look like you could use the rest anyway.” 

“Mom,” Danny called out, “Aunt Wren and Wes want to know if it’s okay for us to stay the night there. They have something planned for dad and want us to help out.”

“Are they planning a party?” Grandma asked, “Cause if they are I will stay with you all.”

Danny nodded going back to the room, “You don’t have to do that mom. They’ll be fine with them.”

She waved off Cat’s comment, “I like planning parties and I can give them a little break too. Take the kids out to a movie or something.” Cat’s phone chimed with a text from Raf. It was a selfie of him with a sad face next to a screen with the estimated arrival date of his flight. From what Cat could gather from the picture he at least wasn’t where he was stationed at. She gave a sad laugh showing the screen to his mom. “He’s not coming in until tomorrow it looks like,” she gave a sigh, hugging Cat, “You still get a few days with him, mija.”

Liz and Danny rushed back into the room, “They said you can stay if you want grandma,” Danny said as Liz made her way up the stairs. He took in their faces, “Any word on dad?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Cat told him, “Sorry buddy.”

He gave a shrug, “He’s still going to be on time for the party and then we have him all to ourselves for a few days after that.” He gave Cat a hug, “It’s all going to work out mom, just you wait and see,” she gave him a kiss on the cheek before letting him rush up the stairs to pack an overnight bag.

Cat looked to Raf’s mom, “Do you know how to get there?”

She nodded, “A little and if anything I’m sure those two know how to get there.” She gave a pat on Cat’s knee as she stood to collect her things. The three of them were saying their goodbyes to Cat in the span of ten minutes reminding her to keep the party a secret as they drove away. Cat laid herself down on the couch putting another movie on to keep the silence of the house at bay finding herself falling asleep for the duration of it. She woke to an update from Raf, this time showing himself at an airport that looked more clearly to be one in the states, his face looking bored as he stared off into space, the caption reading “Why must airplane food taste worse than MREs?”. The second picture he sent was one of a golden retriever that had rolled onto their back looking up to Raf, it’s tongue hanging out “Since when does Wren let Wes out without a leash.”. 

Cat couldn’t help but laugh at the pictures, sending a selfie of her own worried face, “Well that’s a problem considering I just sent the kids to stay with him for the night.”. Raf’s response was quick as he sent his own worried face. She laughed a moment before her heart felt like it was pulling towards him, “I miss you, my love.”. His response took a little longer, the little dots staying up as he must have been deciding what to write before settling on, “I miss you too.”. 

Cat looked up to the ceiling debating what to do with the time she had. She didn’t feel like watching another movie yet and the time showed that it was too early to start getting ready for bed or even dinner. Her eyes looked to the kitchen, it wasn’t too early to start making a meal though. Cat got up making her way to the kitchen, making the dish she had perfected, readying it to be stored in the fridge, just under cooked enough for it to taste it’s best when she heated it up. 

Time was still stretching as she just decided to make her way upstairs to take a bath and relax. Another update from Raf, this time a picture of the inside of a plane, “One more layover!....I don’t know how long it will be.” a sad face emoji with a tear became its own text. She smiled settling in, asking him to hurry back to her along with a picture of her in the bath as extra incentive. She found herself getting ready for bed once the water became cold, her routine taking longer than normal making herself perfect for Raf’s return. 

By the end of it she still found herself wandering around the house settling back down on the couch getting her favorite show ready to watch, one more text from Raf coming in. This time it was a professional photo of a blue horse statue with red eyes, followed by the familiar terminal behind Raf’s smiling face, “Praise Blucifer! I am within driving distance if I have to be.” Cat laughed simply sending a kissing face emoji to him. Her mind no longer able to focus on the show as she laid there her heart racing, knowing he was just so close to her. Her eyes started to close as a slow song played during an episode, her mind already playing a scene of her and Raf together again.

The moving headlights hurt her eyes as she sat up in the now quiet house, catching the time on her dying phone, six in the morning. She yawned, stretching out her arms, hearing the faint sounds of a car door slamming shut. Cat walked to the front door of the house, smoothing out her hair, watching as a familiar silhouette passed the windows, heart racing as she wanted nothing more than to run to him. The door opened slowly, his smile meeting her first as he stepped through, Cat running into his arms as the door closed behind him. 

He lifted her easily as she buried her face into his neck, wrapping her arms and legs around him, “I missed you so much,” she said between her tears falling, kissing his cheek.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much I missed you,” he pulled away far enough to take in her face, kissing her deeply, his arm tightening around her. “Is everyone asleep upstairs?”

Cat shook her head, “They’re all at your brother’s place,” she put her hands around his face kissing him again, “You said tomorrow afternoon, so they stayed the night.”

Raf moved them further into the house setting her on the back of the sofa, “It was going to be,” he kissed down her neck, his hands running along her legs, “I guess I must have looked so sad seeing that picture of you,” Cat started to unbutton the jacket he wore, “because someone gave up their seat to get me home faster.” 

“Well I am thankful for them,” she pulled on the lapel of his jacket bringing his lips down to hers. His hands moving under the silky pjs she wore, trails of fire forming with each touch of his fingers against her skin, as his lips moved down her neck. Cat gave a small moan parting her lips, before she started to hear Raf’s stomach start to growl. She laughed pulling away from him, “When was the last time you ate?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he tilted her chin to look her in the eye, “I can wait.”

She shook her head, “No, mi amor,” she pushed him away gently, “You need to eat or else you’ll have no energy.” She got down from the sofa making her way to the kitchen, “Besides I made your favorite,” Cat stopped at the fridge holding on to the door turning to him, “and I promise you that it’s going to be worth the interruption.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, cocking an eyebrow, “Oh will it now? Cause you’ve tried in the past to make it.”

“Well I didn’t spend a week learning exactly how to make it from your mom,” she teased as she bent down grabbing the food, feeling Raf grab her hips.

“She actually taught you how to make it?”

Cat nodded, setting the food on the counter, “Liz too. Even had to make a blood oath to never tell the secret step to you or anyone else. Only our granddaughters.”

He laughed, pinning her against the counter, giving her a kiss. When she didn’t start laughing with him, he stopped, “Oh you’re serious. Even the blood oath?”

“Well Liz and I both cut ourselves at least once during the week and your mom said it counted,” she explained holding up her hand with the mostly healed cut between her thumb and forefinger. He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips.

“Well at least you and Liz survived.”

His hands started to run up her body, bringing their hips together, “I’m still going to make sure you eat dinner first,” she whispered in his ear.

He kissed up her jaw before whispering, “And what if I just want to skip straight to dessert,” he lightly bit her ear lobe while his left hand found its way into the waistband of her shorts. “There’s only so much time we truly have alone,” he said lowly, his fingers running over her lace underwear, sending small waves of pleasure through Cat. “We should take advantage of it, mi amante,” his hand left her shorts lifting her by her thighs, Cat’s legs wrapping around him on instinct. She smiled kissing down his neck, reveling in the moans he gave her as he walked them up the stairs. 

Once at the top he set her down letting her pull his jacket and shirt off before Raf had her against a wall his kisses feverish and hands rough, Cat’s trying to keep up as she fumbled with trying to loosen his pants and feeling his toned body. She wanted every part of him, making it known as she made a space big enough to rub his already hard length, his hands starting to push her towards their bedroom. The two didn’t even bother closing the door as Raf threw Cat on the bed, letting her watch as he quickly removed his pants, pulling her legs to the edge to remove her clothing. 

He brought himself onto the bed using his hips to part her legs for him as he kneeled above her taking in her body. His hands ran down her body lightly, as her breathing became heavy as his touch traced every part of her. Cat moved her hips up trying to get some kind of friction, Raf pushing them back down against the bed. She let out a small whine growing tired of him, in her mind, teasing her, pulling on the dog tags that still hung around his neck. She kissed him roughly taking advantage of the small surprise on his end to force him on his back, straddling him as she moved her lips down his neck and across his collarbone. Her hands played with the waistband of his boxers, sliding in after he gave a few breathy moans from her kissing alone, running her fingers up and down his shaft. He let out a groan, his head falling back, muttering to himself as she kissed down his torso, stopping just above hips. She gave a smirk biting her lower lip, meeting his eyes as she said, “Welcome home, my love,” she pulled his underwear down letting her tongue run along his length, “and happy late birthday.”

[castielsshield]

Noise

Title: Noise (Leave A Message Part 2)

Pairing: Female OC/Sam Winchester

Synopsis: After losing Jess, Sam continues to leave messages on her phone as a coping mechanism. Unbeknownst to Sam, that number has been adopted by another person.

Word Count: 1,696

Warnings: None

Part 1 || Part 3 || Masterpost

— • —

From that day forward, I continued getting voicemails from the stranger. I learned about him from the simple conversations he had with himself. Most of the time, the messages contained nothing but the man on the other end crying and apologizing to the woman named Jess. Every once in a while, details about his life seeped through.

    I learned that he had been going to college at Stanford, and he had dreams of becoming a lawyer with a family. The girl he was leaving messages to was his first love. The guy he mentioned in the first message, Dean, was his brother. They were working together to find their missing father.

     It went on like that for months. The messages began at the beginning of December. Now, it’s the beginning of May. Now, the voicemails started to change.

     My phone rang in the middle of the night, two in the morning, to be exact. I knew it wasn’t my father calling me; he wasn’t out on business at that time. ‘It must be Mystery Boy,’ I thought to myself, groggy from waking up without warning. Looking at my phone, I saw 'Mystery Boy' typed across the front of the screen, confirming my theory.

     Letting the phone ring until the mystery man reached my voicemail, I rolled over to turn on my lamp. Pulling out my chapter book, I began reading as the guy left a message to Jess on my phone.

     Around five minutes later, my phone notified me that I had a new voicemail with a now-familiar ping. I placed my bookmark in the dip between the pages and picked up my phone. I opened the phone, not bothering to look at what the screen said, and started the voicemail.

    Instead of meeting the usual sound of light crying as I had expected, the man spoke in a normal voice. Though it seemed to be his casual voice, there was still something there. A sadness that filled his words, impossible not to notice.

     “Hey, Jessica. As you might know, today’s my birthday. I’m finally 23. It’s also been exactly six months since Yellow-Eyes killed you.” The voice paused for a moment as the man on the other end let out a tiny, miserable laugh. “Life has a bit of a messed up sense of humor, doesn’t it? We finally got a call from Dad. He told us to stop looking for him, but I know Dean. He’s not going to stop looking until we find him.”

     He stopped talking again, letting the statement hang in the air as he thought of what to say next. “On the brighter side of things, Dean and I are getting along pretty well. We’ve been pranking each other a lot.” He let out another laugh, but this time it was genuine. “We went to a bar not too long ago. When he was in the bathroom, I put superglue on the side of his beer. He never saw it coming. I'm pretty sure I've started a pranking war between us.”

     I smiled at the last part. ‘I’m glad he’s finally finding happiness after what happened to his girlfriend. I hope it stays that way for him.’

     “I miss you, Jess. I miss you so damn much. I haven’t gotten used to you being gone. I’m getting used to not getting phone calls from you. I’m getting used to not being able to smell your perfume on my clothes that you liked to wear on lazy days. But I’ll never get used to you being gone.” His voice grew sad again as he got lost in old memories of him and his deceased girlfriend. “I was going to ask you to marry me, you know. It would’ve been amazing to be able to call you my wife. I wanted to ask you as soon as I heard about my interview at the law school. I would have, but I couldn’t find a ring that was special enough to give to you.” He let out a deep sigh that made me feel as though the place where my heart should be was just an empty cavity.

     “I’m sorry. I have to go, Jess. Dean found another case a couple of days out from here. We’re going to pack up and head out. I’ll talk to you later, babe. I love you.”

     The voicemail ended with a beep, and I clicked save. ‘He was going to ask the woman to marry him. He wanted to have a life with her, but whatever killed Jessica snatched those dreams away from him. He mentioned something about a case. What are they, detectives? And what the hell is Yellow-Eyes?’

     I shook my head at myself and sighed. I turned my lamp off and pulled the blanket up to my neck, resting my head on the pillow. I tried pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, but my brain was already too active to fall back asleep. I turned my lamp back on and went to sit at my desk.

     I sat down and pulled out one of my many sketchbooks. I leaned back in my chair, looking at the stars behind the glass of my bedroom window. Realizing I hadn’t looked at the stars in ages, I decided I wanted to get a better look at them. I grabbed a couple of things I would need to make a good drawing, my jacket, and my phone. Then, I slipped out of my room, careful to make as little noise as possible. I made my way to the back door, trying to stay completely silent.

     I was a few feet away from the door when I stepped on a creaky floorboard. It let out a groan from my weight, and I froze in place. I winced, praying that my dad’s snores were too loud for him to hear over. I held my breath, straining my ears to hear any noise that might be coming from my dad’s room.

     After a moment, I could make out the faint snores of my sleeping father. I let out a sigh of relief and crept forward, finally making it to the wooden back door. I unlocked the door and opened it enough so that I could slip out into the quiet May night. 

     I made my way over to the ladder attached to the side of the house and climbed onto the roof using one hand. Once I had made it to the middle of the roof. I sat down and placed my stuff next to me, taking special care to make sure my pens and pencils didn’t roll off the edge.

     I leaned backward, resting my back on the hard shingles of the roof, putting my hands by my sides. Tilting my head back as a breeze came by, the cool air gliding across my skin, I stared up at the sky. My eyes searched the dark void, trying to identify the different constellations.

     Our house, which is more like a big cabin, is far away from everything, resting in the middle of a massive piece of land. Because of that, there wasn’t a lot of light pollution to block out the bright stars of the night.

     As I looked up at the stars, taking in their ancient light, I realized that they weren’t the colors I thought they were. They weren’t white and yellow like I had always believed. Instead, they were blue and orange and red. ‘I know what I’m going to draw.’

     I sat up, picking up my sketchbook, and opening it to the next blank page. I began by coloring the entire background in a deep navy blue blended with black making it look like the night sky. Then, I used my white gel pen to create a pattern of stars that resembled a woman standing in a fire.

     With my lightest touch and a white colored pencil, I created faint lines connecting the stars. Together, they formed the silhouette of a woman standing among flames. It wasn't easy to see the white lines, but you could still make out what the image was.

     To top it off, I used my other colored pencils to shade in the color of the stars. The ones that made up the fire were yellow, orange, and red, while the ones shaded light blue created the woman's form.

     When I finally set my blue pencil down, my back and neck were sore from hunching over, but I completed the artwork. I packed up my supplies, taking a last look at my newest piece of art before closing my sketchbook.

     Leaning back against the roof, I looked up at the stars once more. Folding my hands behind my head, I imagined I could see the burning woman on the inky background of the night sky. The thought of something I created shining in the black-and-blue abyss for everyone to see was enough to make me smile.

     Lost in the peaceful moment, I could feel a tide of emotion building inside of me—love, happiness, calmness, peace. 

     The feeling shattered in an instant as the snap of a stick echoed from the woods.

     I sucked in a breath, my head snapping towards the direction of the sound. I squinted and strained my eyes, trying to make out what had caused the noise. Through the whole process, I was mentally cursing myself for not bringing my knife.

     Sitting stock-still, I waited for another moment to see if anything would happen. When nothing did, I gathered my things in my arms and made my way back down the ladder.

     Easing open the door, I was unable to lose my feeling of apprehension. I shook my head at myself. ‘It’s nothing, Ash. You’re being stupid. It’s the forest. It was an animal, nothing more.’

     But the moon was cold. The pale light bathing the earth no longer granted the feeling of safety it held earlier. The forest that had once offered a safe place was laughing at me, taunting me. I felt as though I was being watched. Watched by something that took everything safe and calming about my home away from me.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Cameo fic #5:  The Cookies

And with the end of the week comes the last of the cameo fics I promised to followers!  Today’s story goes out to Natasha, @blackwidownat2814  She wanted to “meet” Killian and Emma, and she requested the prompt: “What do you need 300 cookies for?”  Hope you enjoy!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Killian glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall on their kitchen, grimacing slightly at the photo above the dates.  Leroy, shirtless with a pickaxe slung over his shoulder and a suggestive grin looked back at him.  Whatever had possessed Swan to agree to purchase the “Dwarf of the Month” calendar?

Shaking his head, he turned from the rather troubling image to the calendar itself.  Three days.  He had just three days left before the anniversary of Swan’s birth.  Back in his home land, birthdays had been noted, but they’d had nothing like the elaborate celebrations people in the Land Without Magic threw to celebrate another year upon earth.

It was the first birthday Emma had had since they’d been married, and Killian was bound and determined to make it a birthday to remember.  With the help of the lad and various other denizens of this fair town, he’d managed to plan quite the surprise party for his love, but as the big day approached, it seemed the mountain of tasks yet to accomplish grew higher and higher.

On today’s agenda, he must find a suitable dessert for the rather substantial crowd who would attend the celebration.  He’d commissioned a select few cupcakes, of course, so that there would be something in which to place the candles for Swan to extinguish. (Odd custom that.  Killian supposed if Swan were to put the correct number of candles on his birthday dessert the next time around, they’d run the risk of burning the house down.)

But, though Emma was fond enough of cakes, what she truly preferred were cookies.  Chocolate chip cookies, to be exact.

Oh, he could commission the lady Lucas to prepare the sweets for him, of course, but as this was the first birthday in which he was Swan’s husband, he wanted to be the one to make the preparations.

“Henry, lad,” Killian asked after Emma left for the station that morning.  “Are you familiar with the proper way to concoct the cookies your mother favors?”

Henry shrugged, snagging a Pop Tart from the cabinet and keeping a fair distance from Killian, lest he dispose of the breakfast in favor of something healthier.  “Not really.  Haven’t ever cooked much, and when I did, it was mainly helping my other mom make apple turnovers (the non-poison kind).”

“Perhaps the magic box would give me instructions,” Killian mused.

“The Internet?” Henry asked. “Yeah, I mean I’m sure you could find lots of recipes there, but I just had a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s this lady who just checked into Granny’s the other day,” Henry said.  “Her name is Natasha, and I got to talking to her over lunch yesterday.  She told me she can make a mean chocolate chunk cookie.  Maybe you could talk her into helping you make your cookies.”

Killian thought it was as good an idea as any, so as soon as he saw the lad off to school, he walked the few blocks to Granny’s rooming house and knocked on room 2814.  A moment later, a woman opened the door, and her jaw promptly dropped nearly to the floor.

“You’re…” she said, swallowed, and then started again, “you’re Captain Hook, Killian Jones, um…you!”

Killian grinned.  “Ah, so you’ve heard of me.  Always nice to make an impression.  And might you be the Natasha that Henry told me about?”

Natasha merely stared for another moment before shaking her head slightly.  “Um, would you mind turning down the smolder a little.  It’s kind of hard to think with your grin at full strength.”

Killian laughed, but then did his best to tone down the natural effect he had on women.  “I apologize.”

“It’s okay,” Natasha assured him.  “So yeah, I’m Natasha.  What can I help you with?”

“The lad told me that you’re skilled in the art of baking chocolate chunk cookies,” Killian said.  “I am in need of 300 cookies in a scant few days, and I was hoping you’d help me bake them.”

Natasha grinned.  “What do you need 300 cookies for?”

“It’s my wife, Emma’s birthday in three days, and I wished to provide her favorite cookies for her town-wide surprise party.”

“That’s really sweet. I’d love to help you bake!”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The next morning, Emma sat in her booth at Granny’s as her mom told a story about baby Neal’s toddler antics.  She played with her straw, her mind far away from the conversation at hand.

Killian had been acting weird for the last couple weeks.  Really, really weird and secretive.  Something was definitely up, but when she asked him, he merely deflected, giving her the far-too wide smile that told her he was hiding something. What was he up to?

“And then, after I cleaned up the spilled Cheerios,” Snow said, “I turned around and discovered that Neal had…Emma?  Is something wrong, honey?”

Emma startled, giving her mother a guilty look.  “No…I mean I don’t think so.”

“What is it?”

“It’s Killian,” Emma said. “There’s something he’s not telling me and it’s really starting to worry me.  I saw him having a secret conversation with Henry one day, and then yesterday…yesterday he was talking to some lady I’ve never seen before.  When I asked him about her, he wouldn’t say a word.”

“Oh Emma,” Snow said, “you aren’t afraid something’s going on between Killian and this woman, are you? That man is as faithful as a golden retriever.  I couldn’t imagine him cheating on you anymore than I could imagine your father cheating on me.”

“No,” Emma quickly reassured, “I know Killian would never cheat.  It’s just…why won’t he tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” Snow said quickly, and then promptly tried to change the subject.  “Your father wants to plant gladiolas next year, but I…”

“Mom, you know something don’t you?” Emma asked.

“Now Emma, I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Snow said.  “ I can’t tell you.”

“Come on mom,” Emma wheedled.   “You know you can’t keep a secret worth crap!  Tell me what’s going on!  At least give me a hint!”

“Oh Emma, I can’t!” Snow said, “but I promise you it’s nothing bad.  In fact, it’s something you’re going to like very much.”

“Mom…”

“Oh goodness,” Snow said, getting hastily to her feet, “look at the time.  Got to get to school.  See you and Killian tonight for dinner?”

Emma sighed, frustrated that for once her mother was actually not going to spill the beans.  “Yeah, we’ll be there.  Have a good day at school.”

Emma finished her breakfast, tossed a few bills on the table, and then headed out.  She had a little time before her shift at the station was to start.  She decided it was time for one last attempt to get to the bottom of things.  Maybe if she could catch Killian unaware, she could convince him to reveal his secrets.

Five minutes later, Emma pulled her yellow bug up to the curb outside the house she shared with Killian and Henry.  As soon as she stepped in the house, she was met with the delicious aroma of some sort of desert baking.  She peered into the kitchen and saw her husband and a woman, both bedecked with floury aprons scooping cookie dough onto baking sheets.  An entire counter full of baked cookies already lined the counter by the kitchen sink.

“What the hell?” Emma asked stepping forward, arms crossed.

“Swan!” Killian yelped, looking up quickly.  “I thought you were having breakfast with your mother.  What are you doing at home, love?”

“Maybe the better question, Killian,” Emma said, “is what are you doing in our home this morning?”

“Um…” he stammered, “well, you see.  This isn’t what it looks like.  I mean it is, but it’s nothing you need concern yourself with.  It’s just…”

The woman stepped forward, wiped her hand on her apron and then extended it to Emma.  “Hi, I’m Natasha.  You must be Emma.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “Nice to meet you,” she said.  “Any chance you can tell me what’s going on, Natasha?”

The woman looked at Killian for a moment and then shrugged.  “I think we have to tell her.”

Killian sighed.  “Very well.”

“What’s going on,” Natasha said, turning back toward Emma, “is that it’s your birthday the day after tomorrow, and your amazing husband has been working like crazy to put a surprise party together for you.”

Emma’s eyes rounded, and she turned toward Killian.  “You are?”

“Aye,” he said, grinning somewhat self-consciously.  “I wished to make this first birthday during our marriage a special one.”

Emma felt her heart begin to melt.  He was so damn thoughtful, sometimes she felt like pinching herself to make sure her life was real.  “Wow, I don’t know what to say.  So these cookies are for…”

“Aye,” Killian said, pulling his apron over his head and coming toward her, putting hand and hook around her waist.  “I knew that you favored these sweets, so Henry helped me find Natasha, who, as it happens is quite skilled in the art of baking them.”

Emma turned toward the woman in question.  “Thanks for doing this.  It really means a lot to me.”

Natasha smiled.  “It’s my pleasure.  You have no idea how much it’s my pleasure.  I hope you have an amazing birthday.”

Emma turned back toward Killian and kissed him lightly.  “There’s no doubt in my mind I will.  I have the best husband in the world, and I love him more than words could say for being so thoughtful.”

Killian leaned in and kissed her back.  “It’s the least I can do for the woman who’s more precious to me than life.”

Natasha sighed in happiness. “You two really are as romantic as I thought you’d be.”

Emma laughed.  “Still newlyweds.  We’re bound to be a little sickening.  So Natasha, you have to come to the party since you’ve done so much work for it!  I’d love to introduce you to the rest of the family!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[gvbejvmes]

Drabble: What’s in a Voicemail?

Warnings: PG-13 Relationships: Gabe/Johnny, Gabe/Jillynn, Gabe/Nancy, Gabe & Georgie, Gabe & the girls Characters: Gabe, Jill, Johnny, Cordelia, Delilah, Bella

“Dad, don’t you think it’s a little strange that you’ve lived in New York for over a decade, and you’ve never changed your number to a New York area code?” Cordelia asked him as she swiped through his photos, looking for a particular one of Bella, despite his warnings that he wasn’t entirely sure what he had on there. One would think that she would have learned her lesson over the years when it came to Gabe not believing in censoring anything, but hey, at least he’d warned her. “It’s the same number you had when you first got your cell phone. Don’t you think it’s about time to let go of an old New Mexico number? I thought you would have changed your number so that woman can’t reach you by now.”

He shrugged. “Can you transfer voicemails from phone number to phone number? I know you can from new phone to new phone if your number is the same, but I don’t know how to keep the voicemails otherwise.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “What voicemails do you have saved that are so important, Dad?” And with that she swiped over to the voicemail log.

VOICEMAIL

Sullivan Bronx, New York 01/26/20 0:40

“Gabe, it’s Sully. What’s the point of having an agent if you’re not going to return my calls? Anyway, you’re probably in the studio anyway so I’ll text you, too. You have a gallery showing next Friday. Yes, you need to be there. No, you can’t bring one of the dogs and pretend it’s your support animal. Delivery of your pieces is on Thursday. Once I know the time I’ll let you know since I know you’re going to want to be there for the install. The site also seemed to be concerned about a tree with penises in it? I thought we agreed on your other installation and not that one. Call me back. Or text me.”

DO NOT ANSWER iPhone 01/01/20 0:12

“BRIEL! HAPPY NEW YEAR! I knew you weren’t going to answer but it’s New Years and fuck I just wanted wanted to hear your voice. Ugh. I hope you don’t actually listen to this.”

Satan iPhone 09/12/19 0:35

“Gabriel, are you aware that you still don’t have a proper voicemail greeting? Isn’t this the same number that potential clients use? You should correct that. I’m sure you’re losing clients based off your voicemail, but your lack of decorum isn’t why I’m calling. I’ve been trying to reach Delilah, and she hasn’t returned any of my calls. I need to know where to forward her mail, and where to send her final check from her last place of employment. Can you give me an address? And stop with the PO Boxes. I’m not sending money to a PO Box. Call me back.”

Cordy iPhone 08/03/19 0:36

“Granpa!!! It’s me! Granpa! Graaaaaaaaaaaaaanpa! Where are you? I wanna talk to you. Granpa, I saw a dog today and it looked like lady from lady and the tramp, but it was a different dog. I still got to pet it though, and Mommy and I watcheded Elsa again and-”

“Are you letting Grandpa say anything at all, baby?”

“Oh no. He’s no there. I’m telling him about today.”

“Bella, hang up the phone.”

“No.”

“Bella, hang up the phone.” 

“No”

“Bella, give Mommy the phone.”

“No! Granpa, come get me! Granpa. I’mma run away and live with you and George and the cats and my bunny and-”

Darling iPhone 06/29/19 0:14

“Hi, handsome. You’re asleep next to me. I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. I’m glad you’re in my life.”

“Jill? What’s a matter?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep, Gabriel.”

“The bees are singing.”

“I’m sure they are. Go back to sleep.”

“Dad, I wouldn’t call any of these messages worth saving. Except maybe the one where Jill caught you sleep talking.” Cordelia pointed out with a smirk.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Scroll down further then.”

DO NOT ANSWER iPhone 03/03/16 0:32

“Hey, Birthday Boy. Court ran a little later than I anticipated, but I’m on my way home. I know you called earlier, and you’re probably pouting right now, but I didn’t forget about you. I could never forget about you. I know this case and election obligations have been taking up a lot of my time right now, but the trial is almost over and then I’m all yours. I’m thinking a vacation is in order - somewhere where clothes are optional. Oh, you’re calling me back. I’m hanging up here. Love you.”

Unknown Los Angeles, CA 10/21/12 0:31

“Hey, James. It’s Snake from North County. I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m out of the joint and I’m looking for work. I heard a rumor that you’re out of the game, but that you still know some players. I need to make some quick cash so I can get back to my kid. I know you know how that is. I’m staying with Flaco. I know you have his number. He’s the one who told me to call you. Anyway, hit me back when you get a chance.”

212-535-7710 Manhattan, New York 06/11/10 0:32

“This message is for Gabriel James. This is Margie Brown from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Thank you for participating in our art installation competition. We’ve received thousands of submissions from all over the nation. As you know, the winner’s installation will be a permanent fixture at the Met. Congratulations! Your piece, Freedom From the Bars, has been selected as one of our three finalists. We would like to see the piece in person. Please call me back at 212-535-7710 to discuss delivery of your piece. I look forward to speaking with you soon, Gabriel.”

Unknown 04/16/05 0:35

“Daddy, it’s DJ. Mom says you’re dead, but Cordy says you’re not and I wanna believe you. I call you all the time to hear your voice, and I think if you were dead, I couldn’t keep calling your phone. I don’t know where you are, but can you come home soon? Mom married this guy and I don’t think he’s a good person, Daddy. He goes into Cordy’s room at night, and I’m scared he’s gonna try to come in here, too. I just need you to come home and get rid of him. Please, Daddy? We need you to come home, okay?”

Blocked Roswell, New Mexico 08/15/02 0:20

“G! You need to get home! I’m going to kill Nancy, I swear to God. I’m just trying to give the girls a bath, but if Nancy opens her mouth one more time, I’m going to strangle her, G. I swear to God. Get back here and take care of your wife before I do something I’m going to regret.”

Blocked Roswell, New Mexico 08/02/02 1:06

“Gabriel, this is your mother. I called your landline, but Nancy said you were out riding your motorcycle. Honestly, Gabriel, I don’t know why you insist on driving that damn thing. You’re going to wind up hurting yourself if you keep driving that thing. Ah, but that’s not the reason for my call. I wanted to make sure that you’re still able to take me to church. Your father has his monthly Veterans meet-up on Sunday, and I couldn’t ask him to skip that for church service. Anyway, I expect you to pick me up at 8:30, and I expect you to be wearing khakis and a button-up. I also expect my granddaughters to be with you, and please dress them in the matching dresses I got them last week. Leave Nancy at home. I’ve seen your kitchen floor. I think she could use a couple of hours to get some cleaning done without you and the girls getting underfoot. Please bring the station wagon. I will not be seen being driven in that death trap of a car you drive. I thought you were going to give that car to Dustin. 8:30, Gabriel, and don’t be late.”

Blocked Roswell, New Mexico 07/29/02 1:23

“Oh my God, G. I can’t believe you bought a CELL PHONE. Where the hell did you get the money to buy a fucking cellphone from? Are you involved in something illegal? Or are you selling antiques from the store on eBay again? Because if that’s how you got the money to buy a cell phone then you better have gotten me one, too. Or half of the money you’re making off your sales. Just because you know what’s expensive because of your art history classes doesn’t mean you get to keep all the wealth for yourself. I’m getting half the store, too, you know. And I’m your sister. If you’re not going to share the wealth, you better let me use it, too. I got people to call and Derrick keeps hogging the phone line with that damn Star Trek chatroom he’s been hanging out in lately. Anyway, I’d say call me back if I didn’t think that Derrick would be online. I’ll see you at the store later. It’s inventory night; you better be there to help me. I’m not covering for you if you think you’re going out and getting laid while that wife of yours thinks you’re helping me. You better be there, G. Or I’m gonna tell her what you’re up to. Ugh, fine. I’m bluffing. I’d never out you, but I am gonna need help tonight. Some of us are in happy marriages, you know. I better see you tonight. LOVE YOU, BIG BROTHER.”

“Dad, are these the only recordings you have of Aunt Georgie’s voice?”

He looked up at her, hating that his eyes were glossy. “Yeah, kid, they are. I haven’t listened to them in years, but it’s nice to know that I have them.”

[find-your-rp-partner]

Care to Roleplay? :3

Greetings! All those wonderful people who have taken the time to read my role-play request. It is an absolute honour to be here and introduce myself as one of the keen lovers of a very distinctive hobby we all have grown to love - Roleplaying. 

Feel free to call me Avari (which happens to be my very absurd internet alias). I am an eighteen year old college student, studying pre-med from the all too notorious university of Cambridge. Yes, I’m British and no, I haven’t met the Queen….yet. I am an absolute lover of dogs since I have like three myself and I hate the winter reason...ugh I can already feel my fingers freeze as I type...

Cravings!

Naruto Next Generation RP: Boruto

Absolutely no idea why I have a craving of this but god damn it, Kishi! (⊙.⊙(◉̃_᷅◉)⊙.⊙) I cannot get over how adorable the new characters are! I just have to...I have to role-play this one way or the other!

Love Interest(s): Boruto Uzumaki, Sarada Uchiha, Adult Naruto Uzumaki, Adult Hinata Uzumaki

Original Role-plays

If you have any original idea, and I mean ANY original idea, please contact me! I have been craving an original role-play for so long that my hunger has finally come to surface. I have a few ideas of my own which I would only share if you contact me! 💪 (`▿´) 👊

Free! Iwatobi Swim Club

Do I even have to say anything about this? Hot guys in tight swim suits is my sort of aesthetic ( ◡́.◡̀)\(^◡^ )

Love Interest(s): Haruka Nanase, Makoto Tachibana, Gou Matsuoka

Mystic Messenger

I LIVE FOR THIS M*THER F*CKING GAME

Love Interest(s): Jumin Han, Jaehee kang

  Length and Literacy ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ

I love to write and, admittedly, I get carried away from time to time. Other times, I may suffer writer’s block and be rendered unable to reply because nothing will come to me. I hate to be that person, but I am going to put a minimum requirement. The minimum amount I will accept is 400 words per side. I usually write between 600 and 1,000 words per side, so I believe that’s at least fair. With literacy, try your hardest; that’s all I ask of you. I am very lenient when it comes to length because a person can write a whole novel and I would be sitting in the corner of my bedroom with my laptop and a bowl of popcorns to enjoy the whole work of art, yes writing is art for me. Or they could send me one paragraph which is good sized and I would be as quick as lightening to send one back so both novella and one paragraph have their perks. But I would never accept one-liners since they tend to ruin the flow of the roleplay. 

Leaving ≧◠‿●‿◠≦

If you’re going to drop me while discussing plots or immediately after starting, I request that you don’t message me at all. It happens far too often and has become more of a pain than anything else. If you don’t like my writing style or what I have in mind for my side of the roleplay, that’s all you have to say. 

Limits (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)👌

Not a lot I’m uncomfortable with in the scheme of things. I won’t tell you, “No, I won’t do that.” Odds are, I’ll probably do it. I have absoutely no limits except for the ones mentioned below because God knows what goes inside this dirty mind of mine.

*Gets bitch slap by God* O-Okay...let’s move on...

The only limits I have are:

✕ Pedophilia (Grown Adult x Anyone Under 16) ✕ Bestiality

✕ Your OC x My OC

Reply Time ☜(ˆ▿ˆc)

It may take me five minutes to reply, or it may take me five days. It all depends on my workload, how many roleplays I have going on, and whether or not I have writer’s block. Messaging me twice a day to see if I’m going to reply isn’t going to make it come faster. Because I’m an asshole, messaging me twice a day to see where the reply is will move our roleplay to the bottom of the list. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Just be nice and give me a decent amount of time to reply; I’ll let you know if something came up and is preventing me from replying for longer than five days. I am honestly looking for someone who can reply around the clock because I would delete a threat of the person has not replied for like, two - three weeks and I might send a couple of emails if I have not heard from you in a week. I can reply within a day, or two at maximum but maybe that’s because I have no life ._. (Lying!) Please reply on time and I would be a happy partner :3

OOC Chatting (─‿‿─)

Contrary to how my rules may make me out to be, I love talking to my partners! If you want to chat about something you’re really excited about or vent because you’re having a bad day, by all means, I’m all ears! I won’t tell you to leave me alone. 

Writing Sample!

Looking up at the giant who loomed above her, she felt very small and fragile. Oddly, she also felt safe. Safer than she had felt in three years. Loosening her grip on his hands, she raised her own hand and touched her fingers to a cut on his chin. "You've been hurt, too," she said, smiling shyly at him.

Jordan caught his breath at the unexpected glamour of the lad's glowing smile and froze in amazement when he felt an odd, inner tingle from the boy's touch. A boy's touch. Brusquely shaking off the small hand, he wondered grimly if his boredom with life's ordinary diversions was turning him into some sort of perverted dilettante. "You haven't yet told me your name," he said, his tone deliberately cool as he began exploring the boy's lower rib cage, watching his small face for any sign of pain.

Alexandra opened her mouth to give her name, but gave a shriek of outraged panic instead when he suddenly slid his hands onto her breasts.

Jordan jerked his hands away as if they'd been scorched. "You're a girl!"

"I can't help it!" Alexandra flung back, stung by the sharp accusation in his voice.

The absurdity of their exchanged words struck them both at the same time: Jordan's black scowl gave way to a sudden grin and Alexandra started to laugh. And that was how Mrs. Tilson, the innkeeper's wife, found them—both on the bed, laughing, the man's hands arrested a few inches above Miss Alexandra Lawrence's gaping shirt and bosom.

"Alexandra Lawrence!" she exploded, barging into the room like a battleship under full sail, sparks shooting from her eyes as they leveled on the man's hands above Alexandra's open shirt. "What is the meaning of this!"

Alexandra was blessedly oblivious to the portent of what Mrs. Tilson was seeing and thinking, but Jordan was not, and he found it nauseating that this woman's evil mind could apparently accuse a young girl of no more than thirteen years of collaborating in her own moral demise. His features hardened and there was a distinct frost in his clipped, authoritative voice. "Miss Lawrence was hurt in an accident just south of here on the road. Send for a physician."

"No, do not, Mrs. Tilson," Alexandra said and lurched into a sitting position despite her swimming senses. "I'm perfectly well and wish to go home."

Jordan spoke to the suspicious woman in a curt, commanding voice. "In that case, I'll take her home, and you can direct the physician to the bend in the road a few miles south of here. There, he'll find two thugs who are beyond needing his skill, but he can ensure they're properly disposed of." Reaching into his pocket, Jordan withdrew a card with his name engraved on it beneath a small gold crest. "I'll return here to answer any questions he may have, once I've taken Miss Lawrence to her family."

Mrs. Tilson muttered something scathing under her breath about bandits and debauchery, snatched the card from his hand, glowered at Alexandra's unbuttoned shirt, and marched out.

"You seemed surprised—about my being a girl, I mean," Alexandra ventured uncertainly. 

"Frankly, this has been a night of surprises," Jordan replied, dismissing Mrs. Tilson from his mind and turning his attention to Alexandra. "Would I be prying if I were to ask you what you were doing rigged out in that suit of armor?"

Alexandra slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. The room swayed. "I can walk," she protested when the man reached out to lift her into his arms.

"But I'd prefer to carry you," Jordan said firmly and did exactly that. Alexandra smiled inwardly at the blithe way he stalked through the common room, serenely indifferent to the staring villagers, carrying in his arms a disheveled, dusty girl clad in breeches and shirtsleeves.

Once he had set her gently onto the deep, luxurious squabs of his coach and settled in across from her, however, her amusement vanished. Soon, she realized, they would pass by the gruesome scene she'd partially caused. "I took a man's life," she said in a tortured whisper as the coach headed toward the dreaded bend. "I will never forgive myself."

"I would never forgive you if you hadn't," Jordan said with a teasing smile in his voice. In the glow of the lighted coach lamps, huge aqua eyes brimming with tears lifted to his face, searching if, silently beseeching him for more comfort, and Jordan responded automatically. Reaching forward, he lifted her off the seat and onto his lap, cradling her in his arms like the distraught child she was. "It was a very brave thing you did," he murmured into the soft, dusky curls that brushed his cheek.

Alexandra drew in a shuddering breath and shook her head, unknowingly rubbing her cheek against his chest "I wasn't brave, I was simply too frightened to run away like a sensible person."

Holding the trusting child in his arms, Jordan was startled by the unprecedented thought that he might like to have a child of his own to hold someday. There was something profoundly touching about the way this little girl was snuggled against him, trusting him. Remembering that fetching little girls inevitably become spoiled young women, he promptly discarded the notion. "Why were you wearing that old suit of armor?" he asked for the second time that night

Alexandra explained about the jousts, which were a ritual whenever one of the O'Toole children had a birthday, then she made him repeatedly laugh aloud by describing some of her foibles and triumphs during today's lists.

"Don't people outside of Morsham have jousts and such? I always assumed people were the same everywhere, although I don't know it for certain, since I've never been beyond Morsham. I doubt if I ever will."

Jordan was shocked into momentary silence. In his own wide circle of acquaintances, everyone traveled everywhere, and often. It was hard to accept that this bright child would never see any place beyond this godforsaken tiny village on the edge of nowhere. He glanced down at her shadowy face and found her watching him with friendly interest, rather than the deferential awe he was accustomed to. Inwardly he grinned at the image of uninhibited peasant children throwing themselves into jousts. How different their childhood must be from that of the children of the nobility. Like himself, they were all raised by governesses, ruled by tutors, admonished to be clean and neat at all times, and constantly reminded to act like the superior beings they were born to be. Perhaps children who grew up in remote places like this were better and different—guileless and courageous and unaffected, as Alexandra was. Based on the life Alexandra described to him, he wondered if perhaps peasant children were the lucky ones, after all. Peasant children? It dawned on him that there was nothing of the rough peasant in this child's cultured speech.

Farewell?

Ah, it seems that I am all out of food! （ つ︣﹏╰） But the request has come to an end and I shall see you next time, in my inbox! Oh wait, I forgot to mention a few things…

When contacting me, make sure to type ‘Hella kawaii’ in your subject line so that I know you’ve read the request thoroughly. Also, here is my email!

marisavestheday@gmail.com

[bynkii]

Goodbye Ernie, and Thanks

(originally posted Jan 18, 2016)

Today is Ernie Keep’s birthday. That means nothing to any of you and everything to me.

I wrote this back in 2011 when I found out someone who had been family to me had died.

It’s taken me a while to write this, because it’s not an easy thing to write about. In mid-April, Ernie Keep died.

Most of you don’t know or have ever heard of Ernie, which is okay, it’s a pretty small group that knew him directly. But he loomed large in my world.

I first met Ernie in ‘88–89 at GFAFB. He was a crew chief on B-1B’s, I was an ECM tech on them. He was day shift, I was mids. He was also teaching a martial arts class on base, and from what everyone said, it was a lot of fun. So i figured, what the fuck, i’ll try it.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I almost puked. It was only severe self-control that kept me from spewing. Note, I was not 44 and overweight. I was 21–22, 185, and in the best shape I’d ever been in. Ernie almost fucking killed me that first night. Well, he had help. Because while I’m gasping and trying not to die, his wife, Sami is there. Yeah, and she’s eight months pregnant. She’s doing all this crap too. Ever done pushups on the back of your wrists? Tie a wiggly bowling ball to your stomach, THEN DO THEM. Even better, his son, Adam was there, all of about eleven, with that infuriating ability of kids to do this shit and not even have the good sense to sweat.

Adam, you could drive me into the ground like a peg now, but that night, I really, really hated you.

Through it all, there’s Sami, intense, and to be honest, scary as hell. (Ever been tied in a knot? That was her favorite sparring technique. She wasn’t blazingly fast, but oh man, she got a grip on you and you were done. Tied. In. A. Knot. Ow. Ow. Ow.) And Ernie. You know what’s worse than scary? Cheerful. The man was always cheerful. he’s running you into the ground, and he’s cheerful. He’s teaching you how to do things your body is just not designed to do, he’s cheerful. Like a balding Rachel Fucking Ray, with a black belt.

So what do I do? Of course, i go back. Well, for one, it’s Grand Forks, North-Fucking-Dakota. There is not fuck-all to do in Grand Forks, so it’s not like I had a full social calendar on Tues/Thurs nights and Saturday mornings. Also, damnit, it’s hard not to get sucked in by smiling, happy, gweilo Bruce Lee. Day after day I go back. Month after month. Then years. I keep going back.

Ernie teaches me new things to hate and fear. Like Plyometrics. PNF stretching. Pushups off a box. and the rope. That fucking, gods-be-damned rope. He’d stretch this bungee rope across the rec center, maybe 4'-5' off the ground. Then make us do everything under it. Forms. Techniques. Kicks. Punches. I’M SIX-FOOT-TWO, I DON’T DO LOW WELL. But for Ernie…yeah, fuckit, squat, kick, squat, punch. Ernie was like that, so was Sami. They had this ability to get you to do the most insane fucking things, and not just like it, but want to do them. Like the stick exercise. This was a blocking exercise wherein Sami stood blindfolded with a 6' staff in her hands like an axe. You stood 3–4' away from her, in varying stances. You weren’t allowed to move your feet. Then she would swing that stick up and down from vertical to horizontal, and you had to not get hit. If you did things right, you didn’t get hit. If not? DOINK!

Did I mention this was oak, and not rattan?

Did I mention Sami could squat 200+ or so (Maybe Powerlift, I forget, it’s been a while)?

Did I mention that she didn’t believe in making it easy on you, because otherwise, you’d not learn to duck correctly?

Yeah. Swish, swish, swish, i got thisWHATTHEFUCKYOUCHANGEDYOURTIM-DOINK!….-ing. Ow. Son of a bitch. But you learned to duck. And well!

Meanwhile, Ernie, that evil son of a bitch is standing there with his laugh. The Ernie Laugh of “Damn, I bet that hurt”. heh-HEH-heh-heh. Or other variations on it. Just kind of this smug little chuckle. I ended up picking it up, because…shit, I dunno why, but I copied it, and I use it. I don’t want to make it sound like Ernie or Sami were petty martinets, because they weren’t. They really loved what they were doing, and if you showed some dedication, and you showed up, and you tried, they would take you under their wings, and pour knowledge into you. It just involved high front kicks with a bungee tied to your foot. They weren’t into passive learning.

I tried, I showed up, and they taught me. They taught me that the hard way can be cool. They taught me that when some son of a bitch sticks you in front of a mountain and you gotta climb it, you cuss the fucking mountain out, and then…you climb it. Because that’s what mountains are for. You climb them. You don’t gotta like it, but you gotta climb it. They taught me that you do things the right way not for awards or recognition, but because that’s how you do shit. The Right Way.

You do the technique or the form the right way, over and over. Because doing shit right is what it’s all about. They taught me to try to do a little better every day. When I would do something stupid, like injure myself, (which I was really good at), they taught me that you don’t sit on your ass. Pulled every groin muscle you have? Your arms still work, you can punch. Fracture a wrist? You still got two good legs and one good arm, get your ass back to work. Pain can be managed, you have work to do.

It kind of makes Melissa crazy. in her world, injuries are different things. She’s not wrong mind you, I’m just kind of fucking nuts.

They taught me how to put my hand through things. Wood. Bottles. Whatever. They taught me the meaning behind it, that you literally can do shit that seems impossible. You just have to stop talking yourself out of it first.

They also taught me to love teaching people. Martial Arts, IT, they helped me see why helping someone else grow strong in their own lives or careers is so awesomely cool. They did it all by word and by example.

I laugh at people in cults. “How could you let anyone talk you into doing that kind of crap?” Yet I know, that had Ernie or Sami said “Hey guys, let’s all jump off a building to see if we know how to fall correctly!” we’d have fucking done it. But then again, they’d have not asked us to do stupid shit. We trusted them so much that we’d have done any fool thing they asked. They returned that trust by never asking us to do stupid crap.

I wonder if they knew how much loyalty and respect they had from us. I hope so. I’d have walked through fire for them. Probably because they’d have done it first, twice, and then pointed out how fire didn’t really burn you, see? No burns, now get moving.

Sami died from cancer around 1999, and Ernie died less than a month ago. I rarely cry over death, it’s not something I particularly fear, or honestly, think about. But those two, them not being in the world hit me hard. I’m real glad I was working late when I found out about Ernie. Being the only one in the office for a couple hours was a good thing. Dunno why, maybe it’s because the family you find can be closer than the family you get stuck with. For whatever reason, I found Ernie and Sami, and they managed to change my life. They managed to change me.

I’m going to miss you Ern, a whole lot, and I would be quite happy to not miss you. But, since you stuck that fucking mountain in front of me, again…well if there is an afterlife, and if the two of you are there, together again…make them lazy fuckers on the other side do some pushups. They’re all a buncha lackadaisical layabouts anyway.