#in my turn era again someone sedate me before it gets Bad

[shijiujun]

the only one (on my mind)

Lu Yao chases away four blind dates set by his sister in the same restaurant. Chusheng is the owner of said restaurant and decides to rescue Lu Yao from his fifth one after witnessing all of them.

@sarah-yyy for your chuyao fix hopefully? XD

--

“Chusheng-ge,” says the waiter at the door, who comes forward to take his jacket.

It’s still early yet at Qing Ling Tian, a traditional Hu cuisine restaurant and bar set in one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city in the middle of downtown Shanghai. Chusheng walks in, and immediately is greeted with the bustle of a packed hall tonight as well.

Qing Ling Tian is not one of the best restaurants in Shanghai for no reason — with the grand decor that is the retro style inspired from Republican-era Shanghai fused with contemporary elements, and having hired some of the best chefs in the region, Chusheng is proud to say that they’ve had full-packed reservations for three years running now, be it usual dinners or even wedding banquets.

While patrons go about their meals on the first floor, immersed in the warmth and liveliness of it all, the second floor features a much more sedate vibe. There’s a main space where the bar counter is, and the private dining rooms can also be found on this floor. Customers who wish to have a more romantic and quiet dining experience are usually found here.

As he approaches the bar where Liu Zi, his star bartender, is working behind the counter tonight, Chusheng’s eyes fall on a familiar figure seated in the corner of the room, and he doesn���t know whether to feel exasperated or fond.

He settles for something between both, and Chusheng doesn’t even know the man.

“He’s here again?” Chusheng asks, sitting down at the counter and gesturing towards the tall, handsome man with his date, comfortably settled around a two-person table not too far away from the bar counter. “Who is it today?”

“Another young, rich heiress forced to meet him for a blind date,” Liu Zi rolls his eyes, placing a glass of whiskey on the table before Chusheng. “Your boy is trying his best in chasing her away this time too.”

“He’s not my boy,” Chusheng raises an eyebrow, taking a whiff of his whiskey. “I don’t even know who he is.”

Well, that’s not quite accurate. Chusheng knows of the man — Lu Yao, the youngest son in the well-known Lu family that has managed to produce powerful politicians and army commanders with every generation — because this isn’t the first time he has brought a blind date to this restaurant.

Lu Yao is a bit of an oddball, according to those who mill about in the higher echelons of society, so to speak. Despite being a rich young master, he ran away from home after he finished high school and managed to flee all the way to the UK and Cambridge for university, where he supported himself without taking a dime from his family until he graduated with no less than three degrees under his belt.

Lu Zifu, Lu Yao’s father, then forcibly dragged him back to Shanghai, whereupon he began finding matches for his youngest son.

It seems that with his two older brothers, Lu Sen and Lu Yan, so successful and working in the army and his older sister, Lu Miao, a high-ranking government official in the incumbent party, Lu Zifu doesn’t have much high hopes for his youngest son except to have him enter a beneficial matrimonial partnership with another woman. Of course, the old man isn’t quite as cruel to have his son marry someone he doesn’t like, and thus, why continuous blind dates are being strangely and repeatedly held at Chusheng’s restaurant.

In fact, this is the fifth one, if memory serves Chusheng correctly. It was pure coincidence, the first time Chusheng witnessed Lu Yao and his blind date of the evening at the same table, a few weeks ago.

It wasn’t anything to cry home about — matchmaking and blind dates are still incredibly common and Chusheng has heard his fair share of blind dates gone wrong happening in his restaurant. On two occasions even, the disastrous date even escalated into fights, so it’s not as if he’s a stranger to the farce of terrible blind dates.

Lu Yao, however, is unabashedly a piece of shit, a spoilt brat, a vainpot and a greedy little thing — and the man has no qualms flaunting any of these qualities.

He’s a smart piece of shit though, and while he’s shameless, every time Lu Yao does something ridiculous, Chusheng can’t help but want to indulge him.

—

First Date

“How about we get to know each other first, Lu-xiansheng?”

“Sure,” Lu Yao nodded, setting his drink aside. “Firstly, I don’t have a car, or any property to my name. I probably won’t get a huge cut out of my dad’s inheritance when he dies. I’m a poor academic, and my dad doesn’t think very highly of me. If you want to get some money out of this arrangement, you’re out of luck. I don’t intend to find a well-paying job either, because I’m happy pursuing an academic career. In fact, you will have to give me an allowance to support me-“

Chusheng watched then, a little flabbergasted at the sheer audacity of this young, able-bodied and obviously capable man, and with no shame at all, how he tried to badger his way into a marriage that would keep him in the most comfortable of conditions, without consideration for the lady at all!

Understandably, when Lu Yao entered his second spiel without allowing the woman to interject even in the slightest, she got to her feet and stomped out of there.

“Useless asshole!” she spat as a parting gift.

Once she was gone, Chusheng noted with some interest that Lu Yao’s haughtiness seemed to fade away as he deflated entirely into the seat, pressing his fingers to his temple and downing his entire drink in one shot.

His phone rang then, and Chusheng could hear a woman’s sharp voice berating the man on the other end of the line, no doubt to yell at him for fucking up the date so badly.

“Aiya, Da-jie, I didn’t do it on purpose! If she cannot accept me for who I am, it is not true love!” the man whined, obviously trying to play the fool.

Chusheng remembers turning away at that moment, trying to hide his smile in his drink.

—

Second Date

“I think we both know we’re here at the behest of our parents,” the blind date of the week said coolly. “How about we make do with each other to get our parents off our backs? You can continue living your life and I continue living mine.”

Lu Yao nodded, “Sounds good to me.”

“Well, the only condition my parents have is the dowry. Given your family’s status and wealth, I think this,” and the woman holds up three fingers. “Shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Thirty thousand?” asked Lu Yao.

The woman’s face whitened almost immediately, but she continued, “You must be joking. The Xiao family is also considered one of the wealthiest families in the city. My parents will accept no less than three hundred thousand for my marriage into the Lu family.”

Lu Yao pretended to consider this, before he replied, “Think about this! You’re the CEO of the Xiao family’s banking empire, and in comparison, I’m just a student who’s looking to complete his PhD. I have nothing to my name, not even a single property! Don’t you think you should be paying my dad the dowry instead? I feel more like the one who's marrying out of my own family and into yours.”

Chusheng watched as Lu Yao got a cup of iced water to his face then.

The woman was as vicious as the first one when she said, “Shameless!”

—

Third Date

“So I hear that you want a dowry and an allowance,” Blind Date Number Three said, flopping into the seat opposite Lu Yao’s an hour late.

“Of course,” Lu Yao said matter-of-factly. “I’ve never had to serve someone else. I’m the youngest in the family, if I’m not doted on then who should you dote on?”

Chusheng could tell that Lu Yao was feeling rather pleased about this meeting because from what the woman said, it seemed he was gaining a reputation for himself, one that would hopefully ensure women stayed far, far away from him.

“You’re honestly starting to get a reputation,” the woman said as much, but she didn’t seem all too put out by Lu Yao’s demeanour. “If that’s what you wanted, congratulations. What’s good to eat here, I’m hungry.”

Lu Yao blinked, his interest piqued slightly.

“Well, I’m fond of the Ba Bao La Jiang, but… I’m not-“ he began, and the woman cut him off, “Yeah, yeah, you won’t pay. Geez, my treat, since I’m late. I was dragged here by my older brother while I was at an e-sports gaming competition, and I just want to eat.”

They didn’t talk much after that, busy stuffing their faces with food. It was then that Chusheng found himself staring at Lu Yao’s blissful face as he almost cleaned out half the plate and three bowls of rice on his own.

—

Fourth Date

It was Lu Yao’s turn to be late for this one, and Chusheng noted that he was in a bad mood today, for he wasn’t even turning on the i-am-so-innocent look with his blind date.

The moment he sat down, Lu Yao began, “Yes I want a dowry and a comfortable allowance. I’m kind of useless and entirely shameless, but I still want both of those things. If I want a baguette in the middle of the night, you have to get it for me. If I see an expensive Armani suit in the windows while I’m walking on the streets and want it, you should get it for me. If I’m hungry and want to have dumplings bright early in the morning before I wake up, I want you to get it for me. If I see something that scares me, you have to protect me.”

“And lastly, if I want you to give me your wallet, you should just give it to me,” Lu Yao finished, leaning into the back of his seat. “If you can do all of that, I’ll go to the Marriage Registration Office today with our hukou ben.”

The woman didn’t seem surprised at his outburst, and with a sigh, she commented, “I’m only here out of a favour for Lu Miao, we work together. I’ve obviously heard of your penchant for being incredibly demanding, and wanted to see it for myself. Doing this though… don’t you think you’re bringing shame to the Lu family?”

“Every single one of your siblings is successful in their own right, I don’t know how they ended up with you,” she said. “At the very least, you should be mindful of keeping the reputation and honour your family has painstakingly built over the years intact.”

“I’ll settle the bill for this one.”

That evening, Lu Yao got so drunk that Chusheng took it upon himself to send him home, not that the man remembers it.

—

And so here they are, two weeks after that sad blind date that probably hit a little too close to home for Lu Yao, on his fifth date.

This time, however, it seems that this woman isn’t as easy to dismiss as any of the previous ones. Chusheng suspects that there’s something wrong with her, to be honest.

“Lu Yao,” the woman says seriously, “I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at a family’s gathering when I was eight. I’ll treat you well, I promise! I’ve heard of all the conditions that you want, and I can fulfil all of them.”

Well, that is something none of them are expecting, least of all Lu Yao. Looking slightly stunned, Lu Yao sits up in his seat, and goes, “Everything? You’ll give me your wallet? How much dowry?”

“All of it! It’s not like I can’t afford it,” she nods enthusiastically. “I’ll do anything for you, Yao-gege.”

Lu Yao almost flinches when the woman reaches over, her hand tightly gripping his.

“Don’t you remember? It was dinner at the Feng mansion, you surely remember Feng-bo, right? I fell down the stairs when one of the other kids shoved me to the side while he was running, and you were the one who came over and helped me find my mother. You protected me, Yao-gege. I’ve always remembered that, and then when I heard you were looking for a match-“

“-I’m not, my sister and my father are looking for a match for me-“

“-I knew I couldn’t let this pass up. It’s okay if you don’t love me right now, you’ll see how much I am willing to do for you, and given time, I’m sure you’ll start to love me.”

Oh dear, Chusheng thinks as he sets his glass down.

—

“I can’t,” Lu Yao blurts out, snatching his hand back, properly spooked. “I’m… Chen Xue, you’re… I cannot marry you.”

“Why not? You said that as long as someone agrees to all your demands, you’ll marry them immediately! Is it because I’m not good enough?”

“I- I’m… No, of course not, you’re great, Chen Xue. I’m just… I cannot-“

What a time for his wilfulness to come back and bite him in the fucking ass, Lu Yao thinks, about to panic for real.

“If I’m great, then there should be no issue,” Chen Xue concludes, reaching over to grab Lu Yao’s hand again. “Yao-gege, let’s go now. We can get married today, and deal with the huge wedding and banquets later.”

He’s done for, Lu Yao knows that, and damn Lu Miao for finding him an obsessive match!

Just as he’s desperately thinking of something to say, a shadow falls over them both, and Lu Yao finds himself with another hand over his wrist.

Looking up, his throat goes entirely dry.

“He can’t marry you,” the tall, dark and handsome man says. “Because he’s going to marry me instead.”

Then smiling almost roguishly at him, the man continues, “Isn’t that right, baobei?”

Lu Yao feels shivers running down his skin at the sound of that, and despite himself, his breath catches in his throat when he tries to speak.

He remembers this man, sitting at the counter quietly every single time Lu Yao is here, nursing a glass of whiskey. And just two weeks ago, Lu Yao remembers someone buckling his seatbelt for him in the car, remembers the scent of a specific aftershave as the man leaned in close, and his voice when he told the driver to send Lu Yao home.

“Who the hell are you?!” Chen Xue asks, her eyes going wide. “What nonsense are you saying-“

“Yes,” Lu Yao interrupts, getting to his feet and plastering himself to the man’s side. “Yes, that’s right. I can’t marry you because I’m going to marry him instead. I’m sorry, Chen Xue.”

Chen Xue is silent for a whole minute, looking entirely betrayed. It’s a look that Lu Yao is familiar with, and so he prepares himself for the glass of water or wine that’s going to be splashed in his face in anger, but the moment Chen Xue reaches for the wine glass, the man next to him pulls Lu Yao behind him.

“Chen-xiaojie, wasn’t it? Qing Ling Tian welcomes any and all paying customers, including yourself, but I will not allow you to cause a scene here,” he says. “Please put that down.”

Shaking angrily, Chen Xue scowls, “I want to see your manager! Who the hell are you to talk to me like that, do you know who I am?”

Lu Yao’s hand unconsciously reaches for the man’s jacket sleeve, tugging in fear of the trouble this woman obviously is. While he’s grateful that the man has given him a way out, Chen Xue is indeed the daughter of one of the ministers sitting in the cabinet right now, and even Lu Zifu has to play nice with the old man. Lu Yao doesn’t want to get this nice man into real trouble either.

He opens his mouth to appease Chen Xue somehow, but the man beats him to it.

“Of course I do,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Chen Xue, Chen Fu Man, Minister Chen’s only daughter. Lao ye-zi has a standing monthly appointment with Chen-shu for mahjong if I recall correctly. As for speaking to the manager, I’ll do you one better. I’m the owner of Qing Ling Tian. Is there something I can help you with?”

At this, both Chen Xue and Lu Yao stare at him, eyes wide and mouths open.

“You’re… you’re…” Chen Xue swallows, and finally putting the wine glass down. “You’re Qiao… Chusheng? Bai-shushu’s…”

“Indeed,” Chusheng nods. “If there’s nothing else, Chen-xiaojie, I’d like to have a nice dinner with my fiancé. Let me have Ah Dou escort you out. Ah Dou!”

“Chusheng-ge,” another man comes over from where he was standing at the entrance of the room.

“Escort Chen-xiaojie out and get Xiao Yun to send her home,” Chusheng orders.

So stunned at the turn of events and what he’s just found out, that Lu Yao doesn’t even move or blink after Chen Xue is forcibly guided out of the room for a good few moments.

It’s only when he hears a breathy chuckle close to his ear that Lu Yao realizes where his fingers are, still pinching Chusheng’s jacket sleeve. As if burnt, Lu Yao steps away, absolutely mortified. Chusheng, Qiao Chusheng, just saw him make an absolute fool of himself.

“I- I…”

“Sit down before you keel over,” Chusheng says, guiding him back into his seat and then to the waiter standing near them, “Da Ding, clear this table and have a fresh course brought up. The Fo Tiao Qiang soup that Lu-xiansheng likes to eat as well, and some of Man-jie’s best dumplings.”

Lu Yao looks up in surprise. He’s speechless still, until Chusheng pushes a glass of warm water over to him.

“Thank you, for helping me out earlier,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I… I must have caused a scene.”

“No worries,” Chusheng smiles, and damn if Lu Yao’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at that. “Glad that I could help. Lu Yao, is that correct?”

“Mnn,” Lu Yao nods, taking a sip of the water nervously.

“Will you consider going out with me?” Chusheng asks sudddenly.

Lu Yao chokes on his water.

It’s Chusheng who pats him on the back, who presses a napkin to his mouth and looks at him a little fondly while he’s having a coughing fit. When Lu Yao surfaces again, he croaks, “What?”

“I won’t make you go to the Marriage Registration Office with me immediately of course,” Chusheng continues as if this conversation is normal. “We should probably date first, and then if we still like each other after a few, we could set up a meeting between our families and see how it goes. I’m certain your sister would like to take a look at me first, and the same goes for my sister. She’d like to meet you first after.”

“Wait, wait,” Lu Yao tries to breathe. “Hold on a second. You’re saying, like date me?”

“Mnn. Do you think I jest? I’m all for showing my sincerity,” Chusheng smirks almost. “I have a few cars and properties, and I can put your name on any of the ones you like next time, so you don’t have to buy your own. I earn enough, so you can happily pursue your doctorate if that’s what you want. If you don’t, there are a number of open finance-related positions in my company for you to do what you do best.”

“How did you know I have a finance degree?!”

Chusheng raises an eyebrow pointedly and goes, “Blind Date Number Three asked you what your hobbies were and you said ‘making money’ because ‘that’s what I got my degree for’.”

Lu Yao flushes red immediately.

“If you’re marrying me,” Chusheng continues, “Of course the Bai family will give you a dowry and an allowance, just take any of my cards, that should be enough.”

“Who said… who said I was marrying you?!” Lu Yao splutters. “And you’ve been listening in on my dates!”

“It’s a little hard not to listen in when you’re going on so righteously about how you want someone to give you all their assets and pamper you to death,” Chusheng rolls his eyes a little.

“And that night, it was you?”

“Which night?” he teases, and then taking pity on a Lu Yao whose face is entirely red now, he nods, “You were very drunk that night and thought that you called for a ride. You showed your Didi Chuxing app to me yourself with your address on it, I didn’t steal information from you.”

Finally, finally, after so many blind dates, Lu Yao is quiet.

Wondering if he’s scared Lu Yao off for real, Chusheng opens his mouth, ready to try a softer approach and apologize when Lu Yao asks, “… so if I really want a baguette in the middle of the night you’ll get it for me?”

“… I hope we’ll already have a baguette in the house for you seeing how much you like them,” Chusheng answers carefully, “But yes.”

“And if I want dumplings in the morning for breakfast?”

“I’ll call Ah Dou and have it brought in from the restaurant.”

“I don’t like Armani suits, but if I wanted something expensive…”

Chusheng takes out his wallet, and slides three credit cards over the table.

With wide eyes, Lu Yao asks again, “And if I asked you to give me your wallet-“

The wallet lands on the table in between them.

“As for the last one,” Chusheng smiles and leans forward, “I think I demonstrated earlier that I’m more than capable of protecting you whenever you’re scared. Don’t you think? So do I pass?”

The food comes then, interrupting their conversation. Chusheng doesn’t press either, instead scooping out a bowl of soup for Lu Yao and insisting that he eats, knowing that he couldn’t stomach any of his meal earlier with Chen Xue.

At the end of the meal, Lu Yao finally says, “… I want to go to the movies next week.”

“Mnn,” Chusuheng makes a noise of assent. “I’ll buy you dinner before that.”

“I’ll buy the movie tickets and popcorn,” Lu Yao adds, almost a little shyly.

When they leave the restaurant later, Chusheng is holding onto Lu Yao’s hand as he leads him out.

The warmth he feels from that touch alone makes everything right suddenly, and not even his phone continually vibrating in his pocket from his sister’s calls can dampen his mood.

===

*Qing Ling Tian 青玲天 - I guess it's a way for Chusheng to pay homage to the Green Dragon gang 青龙帮 not that he's in a gang right now (he's totally a legitimate businessman)

*Shanghai's cuisine is called Shanghai Cai (shanghai dishes literally), but also can be called Hu Cai (hu cuisine)

*Didi Chuxing - This is China's version of Uber/Lyft/Grab

*hukou ben - In brief, all Chinese citizens need to belong to a family register and have a 'hukou', it's almost like a proof of citizenship I think. Anyway, you need these 'hukou' booklets (like a birth cert) to get married, you bring the booklets down to the office, and take a photo against a red wall, and they print the photos and paste them in the booklets.

*-jie/-shushu/-gege/-bo - older sister/uncle/older brother/uncle

*baobei - darling or baby

[swellwriting]

Familiar

Fandom: Marvel MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: a smidge of violence, but it’s mostly fluff! No endgame spoilers here, this is a trip down memory lane because this takes place in my version of the tower era, aka the good old days yee haw.

Request:  No request but this is my submission for @whirlybirbs nostalgia challenge, my prompt was “Please don't cry.”

Word Count: 4k

A/n: She's a long one because I'm dramatic and also don't know how to shut up, thank you.

-

Familiar, not in a particularly good or bad way, just familiar was the word to describe how you felt about Bucky Barnes, or how you used to know him by, The Winter Soldier.

You were a creation of Hydra, not for nearly as long as Bucky was, but he had turned from just a creation to their own soldier, their weapon. You hadn’t had the chance yet before everything happened with the Avengers. Before they broke into the lab you were being held in and Captain America ripped off your restraints and The Black Widow gently pulled the IV from your arm that was keeping you sedated.

That's how you got here, to the Avengers tower. It's how you specifically got to Tony’s lab, practically nose to nose with him as you argued.

“It's unfair! I’m just as equipped as Bucky is and you’re sending him on the mission! We have been here just as long.”

“You aren’t ready!” Tony barked back, an angry and stern look on his face before he walked away from you.

“I'm not ready? I'm a copy of him! If I'm not ready than he isn't either.”

“You're a copy that's never been put to test, you've never been on a mission. You may be just like him but he has years of experience, you have none."

You huffed crossing your arms, he was right. You had never gotten a chance to do a mission for Hydra, which you were thankful for, but it meant that you weren’t seen as being as skilled as The Winter Soldier.

He had done years worths of missions, while you had been locked in the lab, forced to watch as they would debrief him, take his restraints off and let him gear up and leave. Then you would sit in your glass cell, across from his and watch as they brought him back, sometimes uninjured, sometimes not. You would watch as he would bite that rubber mouth guard down with a frown as they wiped his brain again. This was familiar to you, it wasn't to Bucky.

Every time he had seen you back then was like the first time for him. You never spoke to him, you weren't allowed to go near him, but he was still familiar to you.

In a way that was worse than others, he reminded you of Hydra, of being held there against your will, of being experimented on. Every time you saw him do something, whether it was sparring with Steve in the training room, or killing someone in an old resurfaced Hydra video, you were reminded that everything he was, was also inside you.

Steve watched on sympathetically and silently. He knew how much you hated being left behind on missions, not that you didn't love being here any other time. When the tower is empty and everyone is gone on a mission except for you it's the most lonely feeling, you feel like something must be wrong with you.

“What is so bad about staying here, where it's safe, where your only responsibility is to relax? You’re lucky to not have to go on a mission yet.” Tony continued to argue.

“Lucky? I'm lucky to be left behind? I'm lucky to have to sit here alone, feeling like some sort of burden or like I'm not good enough. You call me an Avenger, you gave me the title, you welcomed me to live here and you saved my life but how on earth am I an Avenger if I never leave this building?”

“You will be when you are ready!”

“How can I ever be ready if you never let me go on a real mission! What's so dangerous about this mission that I can’t go. I'm stronger than you think! At least let me know what's going on.” You pleaded, growing hopeless with this one-sided argument,

“Fine. Steve, debrief her, I have a meeting I should show up to at some point.”

Steve fiddled with his hands and avoided looking at you, so you sat across from him at the table and waited. He watched Tony leave the lab and walk down the hall before he let out a deep breath and then looked up to meet your eyes before looking back down. “We are raiding a Hydra base-”

“Like the one I was held at?” You interrupted but Steve didn’t mind he just nodded to your question.

“But it’s a kill mission, it’s not like yours where we were specifically going in to rescue you, we have confirmation that any assets that we could have saved have been...terminated. Now it’s just a sweep, kill and intel mission.”

“That should be easy! Just killing, it’s what I'm made to do.” You felt your excitement grow as you imagined what the mission would be like, how it would be fulfilling killing people like the ones who stole your old life from you.

“But they never altered your mind, they made you a perfect killing machine but they never took your mind from you, they hadn't altered your brain at all according to Bruce's tests.”

“Well, they never got the chance thankfully.”

“We are worried that even though you are programmed and capable of killing, that you won’t be ready when the time comes,” Steve said and you could tell he didn't want to be the one telling you all this but you were glad it was him, he was always honest about things.

“You’re worried I’ll panic when it comes time to pull the trigger and get myself killed? I know how to kill, just because I haven't done it yet doesn't mean I won’t be able to, I'm ready to.”

“You think that now but when you’re face to face with someone who’s pleading for their life, it’s not easy,” Steve explained trying his best to be level with you. “Some of us are also worried that going back there, back to a lab exactly like the one you and Bucky were held in, might be hard to handle, it’s a tough first mission for you.”

“I can handle it, Steve. I'm ready I promise.”

“Okay, I’ll tell Tony that I think you’re ready but I don't know if he will agree.”

“Thank you,” you said with a smile that he only half returned, he was worried, he always worries too much.

-

“Better strap in little one.” Thor teased as he gestured to the seatbelt straps you hadn't buckled up yet.

“I was just about to. Besides I’m not a little one, I may be the youngest but only by like two years.”

“Compared to me? You are a little one, you all are.” Thor said with a chuckle as he toyed with the strap on his hammer.

“Sorry, we aren't all gods.” Clint joked as he grabbed his arrows and sat beside you.

Nat was on your other side and Steve and Bucky were sat directly across from you. As you sat there, joking and having light conversations with the team you would notice Bucky looking at you from time to time, whenever you would look at him he'd look away, it was strange.

You would think that you and Bucky became close once you were brought into the Avengers, similar background and such, but he was quiet and reserved, he spent most of his free time with Steve or Sam and kept to himself other than that.

Bucky was one of the two who didn't think you were ready for this mission, he wanted to protect you from Hydra after what they'd done to you, both of you.

Although you were technically capable of doing anything Bucky could, you needed a lot more training.

Bucky watched as you nervously fiddled with your seat belt, as you laughed at Clints dumb jokes, as you cleaned and loaded your gun and slid your small knives into their place at the side of your thighs and he couldn't stop starring until you would catch him.

You watched him back, when he wasn't looking you would watch him as he stared at the wall behind Clint's head, as he loaded his guns and put his knives where he needed them, as he pushed his long hair out of his face and behind his ears before he would look over at you.

When Tony stood up, talking over the exact plan once more you looked up at him, paying close attention, Bucky stared at you. He watched you intently listen until Tony called out the pairings, naming you and Bucky to work together, then you both stared at each other, equally unprepared for that information.

When you landed and exited the jet your back was to Natasha as you looked around seeing if it was safe, you made your way to the base doors. Tony broke the way in and you all split up into your smaller teams.

“Come this way,” Bucky ordered and you followed him, your gun was drawn finger on the trigger waiting for anyone to make themselves known.

You and Bucky were set to go to one of the labs, it was empty but you and Bucky checked around anyways.

He tossed you the drive and you caught it with one hand, keeping your gun in the other. “Here, you load the drive.”

You just nodded as you plugged it in and began typing away, Bruce was at the main computer and he spoke to you through your own channel on the headset telling you the passwords as he figured them out. Bucky watched as your fingers typed fast, as you listened to Bruce with no questions or problems. You both looked down the hall as you heard gunshots, you stopped typing and Bruce asked through your headset if that was near you.

“It's coming from down the hall.” You answered and Bucky raised his gun, peering down the hall carefully, the gunshots were coming past the corner and he couldn't see who was the cause of them.

“Could use some help here!” Clint shouted into his headpiece and Bucky looked over at you, and then around the empty room.

“I'm going to go help him, stay here and finish receiving the data.”

“Be careful,” you said making him smile slightly as he cocked his gun and spoke into his headpiece.

“On my way Clint.”

“How long till your upload is done Y/n?” Bruce asked through the headset.

“456 files to go, so 67% done but it's going slower, must be larger files. You're the lucky one who has to go through these right?”

“What? You don't want to help with that part too?” He joked and you laughed but before you could give a witty answer your mouth was covered with a hand as someone pulled you back, your headset pulled from your ear and thrown onto the floor with a thud.

“Y/n?” Bruce asked but he got no response.

You elbowed the person attacking you and pushed them away but they pulled you down onto the ground with them, knocking your gun from your hands.

You reached for your knives but the person pulled them away throwing them across the room and then holding one to your throat.

“Y/n!” Bruce yelled and you didn't respond again, he heard faint noises of struggle but nothing else so he turned back onto the main channel with the rest of the team.

“Y/n isn't answering me, I don't know what happened.”

“Where's Bucky?” Tony asked sounding annoyed and worried.

“Running down the hallway back to the lab they were in,” Clint answered as he watched Bucky do just that, leaving Clint and Natasha to hold the fight in the hallway.

Before Bucky could make it down the hall, you grabbed at the knife, cutting your palms. You reached for your gun but it was too far and before you could try anything else the man stood up, pulling you with him, he elbowed the keypad opening the lab cell door and pushed you inside before closing it and locking it.

You threw yourself against the door and slowly realized that this cell was familiar.

Familiar in a very bad way.

You stopped for a minute as you looked around the cell, it was exactly like the one you were held in, you looked across from it and there was one there too, exactly like Bucky’s but it was empty.

Your heart came up in your throat, you felt like you would be sick. This was all too much, being locked in here again.

You screamed and pounded on the door as the man who attacked you started doing something on the computer.

You screamed and screamed as the panic set in, the blood from your hands smeared against the thick glass and your knuckles became bloodied from your relentless pounding.

Bruce could hear the faint noise of typing and your screaming muffled in the background.

“Any updates on Y/n?” Tony asked as Bruce turned back into the main channel.

“I hear, typing, “ he paused, worry filling his voice, “and Y/n screaming but it's muffled, I think it's her but I'm not sure.”

“Where is bucky!” Tony yelled and Clint and Natasha rushed, following the long hallway Bucky had just run down.

Bucky didn't bother updating Tony, he didn't have the time, he had to get to you.

“Me and Clint are following where he ran, he went the direction of the lab Y/n and him were in. We will be there in two minutes.”

“Two minutes is too slow!” Tony yelled. Steve and Thor where busy clearing out the other side of the large Hydra building.

Bucky rushed into the room, he shot the man in the head without a thought and then noticed you in the cell, screaming to be let out, screaming so loud he could hear it through the thick glass. He stood panicked in front of your cell, standing right in front of where he would have been at the old lab you were in.

It was weird seeing him there, it was familiar, you had been in this position so many times before, not that he remembered that.

Tears streamed down your face as you banged on the door.

“Stepback!” He yelled but you were too busy, consumed by your panic that you didn't hear him.

“Bucky, please Bucky! Get me out of here please.” You cried but you were blocking the glass he needed to break, he turned to the control panel and smashed it with his metal fist making the door open, you fell to the floor where the door used to be and just lied there, placing your bloody pams on the ground and bringing your knees to your chest.

Bucky kneeled down, grabbed your palms and then he grabbed your shoulders making you look up at him. You had a large frown across your face as tears streamed down your cheeks, harder than before.

“Please don't cry,” he said softly unsure of what to even do in this situation.

You responded with no words but a mere whimper as you just cried more, unable to control yourself.

“I can barely handle my own emotions, I have no idea what to do with yours,” he said softly again, not trying to complain but making it clear that this was not his area of expertise.

He pulled you against his chest wrapping his arms around you and holding you.

Your body was so tired and limp that when Natasha and Clint ran into the lab they thought he was cradling your dead body.

“Is she?” Clint whispered to Natasha as they stood there in shock.

You wrapped your arms around Bucky's neck as you calmed down, he whispered things to you, things that maybe he would want to hear too in your situation, it came naturally.

“It's okay, you are safe, I'm so sorry I left you here and didn't check hard enough, we can leave soon, we can go back home, I promise.” He repeated soft things like that, reassuring things. “You're safe, I'm sorry,” Over and over again as Nat and Clint went over to the body of the man who attacked you, they kicked him aside and finished uploading the files to the drive.

“Y/n is here, she's safe, she's with Bucky. Clint and I will finish uploading this drive and then we will meet back at the Quinjet in five.” Nat filled in the rest of the team on your groups status.

Bruce sighed in relief as the others finished up and made their way to the Quinjet.

“Do you need help, I can carry you?” Bucky offered but you shook your head, already feeling so foolish, so stupid for letting this happen.

"And embarrass myself even more? No thank you.”

“You shouldn't be embarrassed,” Bucky tried to assure you.

“This was my first mission and I messed it up.” You complained as Bucky helped you stand then you wiped the tears from your face smudging blood across it in the process.

“Messed it up? You got attacked, that's what happens on missions if this was any other place, a place that wasn't traumatic for you then maybe you would have handled it better, but you still did well. We got the information we needed and they are all dead. Let's get back to the jet so they can burn it to the ground?”

You offered him a weak yet thankful smile. “Burn it? Sounds wonderful.”

As the Quinjet flew away you watched out a window, elbows propped up on the tiny sill, resting your head against your bloody palms as you watched the large Hydra base be engulfed in flames, burning it to the ground.

“You okay?” Steve asked quietly but the whole team was staring at you waiting for your reply.

“Yeah, it feels good to watch it burn. I never got to see the lab I was held at being burned but this feels just as good.”

“You never got to see it because you were too busy unconsciously drooling on my lap.” Natasha teased as she sat down beside you, putting her hands out so you would give her your palms to bandage.

You smiled at her, you felt better already, it was only minutes ago that you felt scared and alone being locked in that cell, just like you had been for years. But you were safe now, surrounded by your friends who loved you and cared about you, who would never hurt you.

The fear, the pain and the flashbacks were all subsided on the ride home, then during dinner and debriefing. But it wasn't until you were alone in your room that you felt the walls close in around you.

You stood in the middle of the large room, it was luxuriously large, it had big windows and a balcony, you walked over to the window and pressed your bandaged hands against the glass as you looked out.

It made your mind go back to earlier. To being trapped in that cell again, banging on the glass doors. You quickly opened the balcony door and the windows to let the air in and then started pacing nervously around.

Freedom is overwhelming, the ability to have whatever you want, to go wherever and do whatever was too much, so you spent most of your time in this room.

A knock sounded at the door and you stopped pacing, looking at where the sound came from, thinking of who it could be before you walked over and opened it revealing a startled looking Bucky.

“Hey, Bucky, what's up?” You asked casually.

“I just wanted to, I'm here cause, I don't know why I'm here,” he studdered over his words.

“Did you want to come in?” You asked, thinking that he maybe wanted to talk in private.

He just nodded as he walked in, looking around your room and admiring it, you closed the door and then walked over to the balcony, he followed and you both sat in comfy seats, the wind was calm and refreshing on your skin, the noise of the city below was a welcomed background buzz.

“There's a lot of reasons I came here I guess and it's like my brain is trying to spit them all out at once,” he admitted as he anxiously carded his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath.

“Well, start with the first, then the next. I'm in no hurry.” You said with a  reassuring smile.

“I'm sorry,” he said and then paused, looking down at his hands and then back up at you, “what happened today was my fault and I wanted to say sorry and make sure you're okay. I know how hard it is to go back in those labs but to be locked in that cell again, exactly like the one you used to be in, I can't imagine how scary that would have been.”

You gulped, preparing yourself to talk about this without bursting into tears. “Thank you, for checking on me, thank you for getting me out of there, it wasn't your fault that happened in the first place. Being in that cell again was terrifying, and then seeing you on the other side of it brought back so many memories of my time spent there, things you don't even remember.”

“I remember,” he admitted and you froze. “I didn't at first until I saw you, then the memories came back in little bits very slowly but after seeing you in that cell again, I remember everything. I'm sorry I sort of avoided you before, I was just worried about what I would remember, not to say they are good memories but just seeing your face is calming sort of, it's familiar. Not in the way Steve is, but not in a bad way either, just different.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” You agreed.

He was standing now, leaning against the balcony and looking down on the city, you stood up and leaned on the balcony ledge right beside him, elbows and arms touching.

“I much prefer seeing you out here, free.” He spoke quietly, staring at the sky and then turning to look at you, your hair blowing in the breeze, skin soft and clean from your shower, comfortable clothes on and no glass door, blocking him from you.

“I much prefer not seeing you tortured and brainwashed.” You offered back after a few minutes of silence, a smile on your lips.

“I'd like to see you more, get to know you better.” He asked as he grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his so gently as if he was weaving a piece of lace between his fingers. He pulled you gently so you were still leaning your sides on the balcony but now you were facing each other, growing closer by the second until you were pressed to him.

“Me too.” You admitted, smile wide as you continued, turning the more serious tone to a much more playful one, “we can bond over our shared trauma and similar scientific modifications.”

He brought his hand to your cheek and stroked it gently. “I forget sometimes that you're like a copy of me, the original is always better of course.”

“Well, I don't have any of the sick upgrades you do, like a metal arm.”

“Trust me you don't want it.” He said timidly as he moved his metal arm out of sight and placed the cold hand on your waist, squeezing you lightly.

“I like it on you though.” You said as you pulled his hand back up and kissed the tips of his fingers gingerly. He looked small at this moment, his cheeks blushed and he seemed not so much like the hardened soldier he so often presented himself as, but like the soft boy from Brooklyn with a big heart and doe eyes. You could get used to seeing him this way.

[corellianangel]

When they don’t stay dead.  Part 2

A/N:  Never mind Force-ghosts and the odd nightsister… Star Wars is full of the undead.  These are bits and pieces based on the old canon derived from the novel “Death Troopers” by Joe Schreiber, published in 2009.  It established a zombie plague in the Star Wars old canon universe. It takes place about a year and half before episode IV, featuring Han and Chewbacca in a classic escape the Zombie hordes scenario.  A fun romp if you have a mind to read it.

Zombies have carried over to the new Disney canon in the pre-ESB era to include all of our ANH heroes in the video game Star Wars: Commander. Which might be explored here. Along with the vampiric Crimson Queen of Ktath’atn, presented in the new Marvel Doctor Aphra series; there will be plenty of zombies for an intrepid smuggler to deal with.

So as this is a horror romp: Lots of warnings apply.  Gore, angst, violence, etc. No Beta readers were harmed in its production, as it’s impossible to find someone to Beta cheezy horror fics.

Timeline: Star Wars Rebellion era within canon (including old and new canon) ...more or less.

When they don’t stay dead.  Part 2

1.5 BBY - after the evacuation of the Imperial Star Destroyer Vector

The abandoned Imperial prison barge Purge’s former chief medical officer Doctor Zahara Cody wrapped up the medisensor of the stolen Imperial shuttle. Disconnecting the leads from the module, she tossed the probe’s sanitary covers into the disposal receptacle at her feet. She pushed up her visor and noticed a shallow scrape on her patient’s shoulder. Touching it with gentle prodding fingers, she gave it last look, ensuring it was not greying at the edges like a claw or bite mark from an Infected.  One of those, from where they had just escaped; would be a quick death sentence for the young smuggler, and perhaps anyone eventually within reach.  But it was healing well under the bacta salve, and Cody began pulling off her gloves in satisfaction.

“The I71A virus pathogen in your bloodstream, has fallen to levels undetectable by this set of equipment. “ She tossed the gloves in the disposal, taking a step back to allow Solo to stand up from the examination table.  As the Corellian reached for his trousers and shirt, Cody’s eyes raked over Solo’s lean form appreciatively.  Doctor or no, she was still a woman, one who could and did separate duty from pleasure; but as humanoid males went, the smuggler captain Han Solo was easier on the eyes than most.  Zahara tucked away a small smile, thankful for the brief distraction from the horrors they’d just been through mere days earlier.  She made a show of packing up the sensor module, while pretending not to watch him.

“‘Undetectable,’ not gone, though...Right Doc?” Solo asked, muffled by the cotton fabric he was pulling over his tousled brown head of hair.  Bronzed muscle bunched and flexed across his scarred torso.  Doc turned her back to him as his hazel eyes caught hers, glittering with amusement at her attention.  “Any chance it might come back? Could I infect others...Or-, or change like those-, those zombie things.” Solo gestured with his thumb behind him, indicating the undead hordes they’d escaped a few days earlier.

“No.” Doctor Cody interrupted. “ Shouldn’t anyway.  The Sickness was a local hive virus.  It would need to replicate enough of itself to attain that self-awareness it requires to ‘wake up.’ Since the four of us are hardly enough sustainable infected cellular biomass for activation, it should be safe.  Though it’ll be safer if we split up, as suggested.”

“So, it’s not liable to mutate. Letsay like a cold or flu?”

Doctor Cody paused, thinking.  Solo had a point.  She’d used the onboard computers patched into the med-bay to perform analysis after analysis - running it through the medical simulators.  She’d been looking for mutations that could result in different infection vectors. The chances were low, to the point of one in quadrillions.  The virus degraded, as it was dependant on that core sentient bio-mass. Though, as in all things there was always a chance.

“Of course. Yes it almost certainly will, if given chance.  But as for a more virulent strain, or easier vectors - I’m not sure it can get worse. Odds are pretty low.” she muttered. “BUT, You are not a naturally immune individual, only immunized.  There’s always the chance the immunity may fade with time.” Cody waggled a finger in Solo’s face for emphasis.

“Odds have a way of catching up with me, or me with them. Not a big believer in ‘em.” Solo grunted, tugging on a tattered pair of second-hand trousers that hung off his narrow hips, yet remained centimeters too short for his long frame.  Solo puffed at it in exasperation, “Damn pants…” He sniffed, then scowled at the rough tan workboots he’d scavenged from a tech's locker onboard the stolen vessel.  “I don’t need to worry about-, y’know- dyin’ in the wrong place, and um...comin’ back.”

Cody rolled her eyes and snatched the boots from him, spraying the interior with a readily available disinfectant. She handed them back, dangling them off her pinkie by their bindings.

“Not unless the virus mutates and adapts.  It's DNA chain - as it is, is very fragile.  It's showing signs of breaking into unduplicatable segments in your bloodstream, despite persistent attempts to bond to your human DNA. Unless your body somehow harbors the virus in some reservoir like your lymphatic system, or your liver, or in the dense bundles of neurons...” Here Doctor Cody lost her patience, “It can change, okay. It might.  It might not.  It’s so hard to know….Whatever! I can't predict everything.” She slammed the lid shut on a medical equipment case harder than she intended. A piece of plastic broke off the hinge and now the lid wobbled. Cursing, she shoved it into its resident compartment. Her body was numb, her mind on hyperdrive with guilt and what-if scenarios. Her eyes stung, and she swiped at them with the heel of her palm. Cody collapsed onto a nearby stool, barely holding herself together.

The doctor in Cody would immediately suggest counselling, anti depressants— probably antipsychotics if she'd heard the resultant story without knowing better. Actually she’d most likely recommend sedation in case of another violent psychotic episode - under Imperial medical protocol, of course.

Doctor Cody silently filed her self-diagnosis away for later.

“Hey-,” Cody jumped. Warm, not the terror of icy fleshless hands, closed around the curve of her shoulder. “You did good Doc.” Solo said in a surprisingly soft voice. “You saved who you could. And Chewie and me really owe you one.”

“ I don't want to be responsible for the next outbreak.” Cody admitted quietly. She marvelled at how the smuggler was coping.  How any of them were holding themselves together? How many thousands died on that Star Destroyer? How many millions if this got planetside somewhere?

Could any of them ever be safe? Or were they themselves now the biggest risk?

“You won't be. Chewie‘n me made a deal ‘tween us. One takes out the other if something happens with this virus. It's the only deal we got like that. Y’see it violates his life-debt. But even the Wook thinks this is too important.” Sensing, that Cody had calmed, Solo stepped back. He did a quick spin on his heel, displaying his array of sagging, mismatched cast offs; which made Cody choke back a laugh.

“Very lovely. Ready for a Royal ball.” Cody teased. “It might be an improvement on the prison uniform,” she observed wryly, crossing her arms and leaning against the narrow bulkhead. “ At least you won’t get arrested as soon as we land.”

“That bad? Huh…” Solo grimaced down his secondhand clothing. He fetched the salvaged blaster from his dwindling pile of undonned gear. Twirling the weapon around his finger with a flourish, he dropped it into the dipped hollow between his hip and belt, and held out his hands - palms up and hip-cocked like the rogue he was. “Good thing, there’s no royalty in my future. Huh?”

The doctor let out a sarcastic laugh, “Not likely.  Especially if you don’t get up to this shuttle’s wreck of a cockpit so we can get to a decent port.”

The smuggler tossed Cody a smirk and a wink.  With a sharp salute, Solo then bowed gallantly and swung out into the hall in a swaggering canter, intent on getting them all to safety. Despite his performance, Cody was still hesitant about their prospects. They could never reveal what they'd been through. To anyone–ever. Nobody in their right mind would believe them. And individuals who carried knowledge of a hideous failed Imperial bio-weapon would be quickly silenced before they could fancy getting anyone to believe them in the first place.  And then there was that stigma of potentially being carriers of future infection.

Cody would remain with the naturally immune boy, Trig Longo. The two immunized smugglers would carry on together.  For the most part, they would never speak of the Purge and the Star Destroyer Vector again, unless it was a confession well-greased by triple-digit proof alcoholic spirits.

It was a secret they all would die with.

Assuming they actually stayed down and dead when that time came.

[amazingviralinfo]

Beyoncs imperious sixth album sees her turn her attention to her marriage, with witheringly powerful results

Dishearteningly billed as a conceptual project based on every womans journey of self knowledge and healing a description that makes it sound like something agonisingly earnest youd go out of your way to avoid at the Edinburgh Fringe Beyoncs sixth solo album touches on a lot of potent topics. Quite aside from the presence of her much-discussed single Formation, a meditation on race that originally appeared in the middle of Black History Month, there are lyrical references to slavery, rioting and Malcolm X and a ferocious guest appearance by Kendrick Lamar that jabs at Fox News and police brutality and ends with something approaching a call to arms.

In an era when pop doesnt tend to say a great deal, theres obviously something hugely cheering about an artist of Beyonces stature doing this: she increasingly seems to view her success and celebrity as a means to an end rather than something to be maintained at all costs. Nevertheless, Lemonade is an album less about politics than something more personal. Its more preoccupied with the state of her marriage than it the state of the world, overshadowed by her husband Jay Zs alleged infidelity. If you want to compare her to an old soul legend, its more Here, My Dear than Whats Going On: for all its brilliance, Formation feels oddly tacked-on at albums end, arriving after All Night, a track that sounds remarkably like a grand finale.

Given the amount of lurid media speculation about the Knowles-Carter union, you could have reasonably expected Beyonce to step discreetly around the subject of what you might call Hovas legova, for fear of giving the gossip mags further fuel: perhaps a knowing allusion here and there, the odd bitter reference to the press intruding on her personal life. But no: in the film that accompanies the album, premiered last night on HBO, she does everything to express her displeasure at her husbands behaviour short of appearing holding aloft a pair of scissors in one hand and Jay Zs severed testicles in the other.

Shes seen tearfully committing suicide, smashing things up with a baseball bat, destroying cars by driving over them in a monster truck and throwing her wedding ring at the camera, as well as reciting the alarmingly visceral poetry of Warsan Shire best known as the author of that oft-quoted line about how no one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark much of which sounds less like the words you usually hear issuing from an R&B divas mouth than something the late Richey Edwards would have come up with around the time the Manic Street Preachers made The Holy Bible: till the blood spills in and out of uterus, wakes up smelling of zinc, grief sedated by orgasm.

The album itself is no less bracing in its approach than the film. Suck on my balls, Ive had enough, she sings on Sorry, shortly before threatening to leave and take their daughter with her. Big homie better grow up, she adds, a direct allusion to the title that Jay Z gave himself during his guest appearance on her 2003 single Crazy in Love. The music, too, slowly works itself up into a righteous frenzy of anger, shifting from the becalmed misery of opener Pray You Catch Me via via the sparse simmer of Hold Up which rather wittily borrows its chorus from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs paean to undying devotion, Maps, and its hook from Andy Williams Cant Get Used To Losing You before finally boiling over on the fantastic Dont Hurt Yourself: a ferocious, distorted vocal as commanding as anything shes recorded, wrapped around samples from Led Zeppelins When the Levee Breaks and a guest appearance from Jack White. Indeed, without wishing to encourage someone towards the divorce courts, shes so good at the hell-hath-no-fury stuff that its almost disappointing when the mood eventually lightens and she declares everything well in her marriage once more.

Not everything here works as well as that, or the weird, affecting mixture of defiance and vulnerability found on 6 Inch, a track on which she slurs and snarls about how rich, hard-working and desirable she is over ominous electronics, before her voice appears to crack as sings come back, come back, come back. Daddy Lessons curious blend of New Orleans jazz and country sounds uncomfortably like pastiche, while theres something of a lull at the centre of the album, ironically the moment where the mood changes from bitterness and fury to something more forgiving and redemptive. The piano ballad Sandcastles isnt a bad song as such, and it boasts a startlingly raw vocal that occasionally threatens to turn into a distraught howl, but it sounds a bit commonplace compared to whats going on around it, not least the flatly astonishing Freedom, a dense swirl of sound containing everything from old Alan Lomax field recordings to 60s psychedelia from Mexico.

On Freedom, and indeed for much of Lemonade, Beyonce sounds genuinely imperious. Shes obviously not the only major pop star willing to experiment and push at the boundaries of her sound: thats clearly what Rihanna and Kanye West were attempting to do on Anti and The Life of Pablo respectively. The difference is that those albums were at best a bold and intriguing mess: the sense that the artists behind them were having trouble marshalling their ideas was hard to escape. Lemonade, however, feels like a success, made by someone very much in control. This is your final warning, she scowls on Dont Hurt Yourself, if you try this shit again, you lose your wife. You rather get the feeling Jay Z should heed those words: on Lemonade, Beyonce sounds very much like a woman not to be messed with.

[kinkykinard]

S is for Stress (19/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing:  ReaderXBones Prompt: Fic 19 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series.  Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series!  S is for Stress.  Academy era AU. Word Count: 2263 Warnings: None. Rating: All ages. Author’s Note: This one goes out to all those out there who are going through some kind of stress or other right now.  I know I could have used someone like Leonard while I was preparing for my last round of exams.  

S is for Stress You throw your stylus down in frustration as you finish writing out the last of the study notes you’re making for your third year Advanced Robotics class.  You’ve been studying for your upcoming final exams for weeks and tomorrow morning is your first – and most dreaded – one.  Sighing, you run a hand over your tired eyes and scroll back to the beginning to read your notes again. A quarter of the way through your material, a knock on your door sounds and you instruct the computer to unlock it. Without hesitation, the door slides open and you can tell just by the footfalls behind you that it’s Leonard who has entered your quarters.

“Hey darlin’,” he says softly, striding over to where you’re seated at your desk and settling his hands on your shoulders. “How’s the studying going?” You groan in frustration by way of answer and he chuckles. “That well, huh?”  He says gently, and you can hear the smile in his voice.  “Do you want me to leave you alone?” You shake your head, turning your attention away from your notes to look up at him over your shoulder.   “I just want to review these notes one last time,” you explain. “If you don’t know it now, you probably won’t in time for the exam,” Leonard says apologetically. “I do know it,” you assure him.  “It just never hurts to take one last look.” He nods and, as you turn back to look down at your PADD, begins to knead your shoulders gently.  You moan softly at how amazing it feels to have him working the tension out of the muscles there and it’s all you can do to focus on your reading as he massages the aches away. “You’re tense,” he comments.  “Are you nervous?” You nod a little; enough to answer him but not enough to disrupt his kneading. “I’ve been stressed out about finals for weeks,” you reply.  “I have really bad exam anxiety and I know that I know this stuff inside-out and backwards, but I still feel like I’m going to screw it all up.” “You won’t screw it up, sweetheart,” Leonard reassures you.  “But if you’re really worried about it and need a day or two more to prepare yourself, I can write you a deferral letter.  As your primary care physician I have the authority.” You smile softly, leaning back so you’re sitting straight up in the chair as his warm, deft hands continue to work out the knots in your shoulders and neck.  Part of you wants to take him up on his offer, but the other part of you just wants to get the exams over and done with so you can finally properly relax. “No, but thanks,” you murmur.  “I’d rather not have to wait another week or two to be done – that’s just another week or two for me to spend freaking out. I’ll be okay.” “Then give me your PADD and come join me on the couch,” Leonard offers.  “You can snuggle up with me and I can quiz you on this stuff.” You smile as you hold the PADD up over your shoulder for Leonard to take. “That sounds lovely,” you agree. You miss his touch as soon as his hands leave your shoulders and you stand up, stretching your aching, bunched muscles before following him over to the sofa.  You give him a moment to get comfortable and then you curl up against his side, drawing your knees in to your chest as he wraps an arm around you. He holds the PADD in his free hand, far enough away that you can’t read what’s on it, and begins to flip through the information you have gathered there. As he begins to ask you questions, you respond automatically, reassuring yourself that you know the material cold. You close your eyes after a little while, inhaling deeply and feeling warmed by the scent of his cologne; it’s something dark and spicy, and it’s comforting in its familiarity. The two of you spend an hour reviewing before you’ve gone through the remainder of your material and you let out a long exhalation as Leonard powers down your PADD and sets it aside.  He leans in to press a kiss to your temple and you shift so your head is resting on his pec, his heartbeat echoing in your ear. “Thanks, Lee,” you murmur.  “Now all I need is a good night’s sleep and maybe I won’t fail this exam.” His hand absentmindedly strokes your hair as he looks down at you, his gaze lingering on the dark circles beneath your eyes and the frown of your mouth.  He glances at the chron and realizes it’s getting late – not really, but late enough that you should be getting to bed in time for an 0800 exam the following day. “Why don’t you wash up and get changed?” He suggests.  “I’m going to run and get something to help you sleep.” You shake your head. “I can’t afford to be drowsy in the morning,” you rebut. “You won’t be,” Leonard promises.  “Have I ever lied to you?  Just trust me.  I’ll calibrate the dosage so you’ll be right as rain by 0700 hours so you’ve got plenty of time to shower and eat a good breakfast before your test.” You consider his words for a moment and finally nod in agreement.  You sit up, moving away so Leonard can stand, and you take the hand he offers you a moment later so you, too, can get to your feet.  You smile as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips and you watch him leave with a promise that he’ll be right back. Moving to your private bathroom, you quickly brush your teeth and comb your hair.  You fill up the glass that resides on your counter with water and savor it, setting the empty back down again before stepping back into your bedroom. You groan as all of the muscles in your neck and shoulders ache from all of the tension you’re holding there while you pull off your clothes.  Stretching your arms over your head, you whine softly at the pain that comes before the relief. You open the dresser next to your closet and pull out your favorite, most comfortable pair of pajamas.  Slipping into the familiar, nearly threadbare shorts and tank top, you move to your bed and turn down the covers.  Kicking off your slippers, you climb into bed and lie back against your pillow, groaning at how good it feels to be relaxing even a little bit. You’re still tense a few minutes later when Leonard returns, slipping into your quarters quietly with his kit in hand. The embrace of the pillowtop beneath you and the comforter on top are inviting and welcome, but you can’t get comfortable.  In the silence of Leonard’s absence, all sorts of awful scenarios had played themselves out in your head and now you’re jittery.  It doesn’t’ escape Leonard’s notice, either, as he immediately reaches out for you when he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Take a few deep breaths for me, darlin’,” he instructs you as he meets your gaze, his expression reassuring. You’re amazed at how much better you feel for seeing him – though the stress is still wreaking havoc on your body, his stalwart reassurances, stoicism, and unwavering cool countenance make you trust him when he says everything will be okay, and make you listen as he tells you to breathe. You watch him as he reaches into his bag and produces a tricorder, and you can’t help rolling your eyes at him.  Always the consummate professional.  Your expression isn’t lost on him and he smiles softly as he scans you. “Just making sure you’re hydrated enough,” he explains.  “It’s important for how your body handles the drug I’m going to give you.  The good news is, everything looks fine.” He puts the tricorder away and loads a vial into a hypospray, holding it out toward you, giving you another chance to refuse if you want to.  You don’t, however, and he treats your silence as permission.  One of his hands is gentle against the angle of your jaw as he encourages you to tip your head back and relax, and the other is swift and competent as he presses the hypospray to your skin and injects the medication before you can really even sense the stinging.   As he puts the hypo away, you rub at the spot he’s just injected, making the small bit of pain there dissipate in moments. His attention is back on you a second later and he reaches out, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “You’re going to ace that exam tomorrow,” he says with confidence.  “And all of the others.  You’ll leave everyone else in the dust.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words and you sigh a moment later as you feel a wave of warmth and sedation wash over you. You lick your lips and feel your eyes fluttering closed.  You cling to Leonard’s hand, a bit startled by the feeling, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he soothes you. “It’s alright darlin’, I’ve got you,” he says softly.  “You’re doing great.  Let yourself sleep.  I’ll be right here.” You do as he says and he is; he’s still by your side when you wake up in the morning, though now he’s pressed up against you, sleeping with his chest to your back.  He stirs as you turn off your alarm and you sit up with a yawn, shaking off the waking warmth of a fading sleep.  You quickly realize that he’d been right: you slept amazingly well and you don’t feel the least bit drowsy.  Smiling, you glance at him over your shoulder, doing your best to quell the fresh wave of anxiety that breaks over you as you think of the exam you’ve got in an hour. “You’re the best,” you say brightly.  “I slept like a baby.” He grins smugly and you can’t help rolling your eyes. “I’m going to go get changed for the day,” he calls to your retreating back as you head in to the washroom.  “I’ll meet you in the mess hall.” You shower quickly and get changed, forcing yourself not to power up your PADD for one last quick glance over your notes. You know you know your stuff, and you have to be satisfied with that or else you’ll miss breakfast. Heading out of your quarters, you make it to the mess hall and glance around, noticing Leonard waving at you from a nearby table.  You head over and sit down, looking at the tray in front of your spot.  It’s got a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, a cup of coffee, a bottle of water, and a container of your favorite yogurt.  He wasn’t joking last night when he’d said you needed to eat a good breakfast, and it looked like he was ready to sit and make sure you did just that. “How’re you feeling, Y/N?”  He asks as you pick up the coffee and take your first sip, savoring it. “Okay, I guess,” you reply honestly.  “I’m still really freaked out, but I’ve got to get it over with, right?” He nods and reaches out to take your free hand as you down the rest of the coffee.  You watch him over the lip of the cup, wondering what he’s up to as he pulls a small spray bottle out of his pocket and uncaps it.  He sprays a little spritz of the liquid inside on your wrist and you’re both content and confused as you inhale and smell his familiar cologne. “Smell is the strongest sense tied to memory,” he says by way of explanation.  “I figured since you could smell my cologne while I was helping you study last night, maybe this would help you recall some things during your exam this morning.” You’re touched by his sentiment and you beam at him, setting your cup down. “Thank you,” you say with a grin.  “It couldn’t hurt, right?” He returns the smile and the two of you finish your breakfast in silence.  You glance at the chron on the wall to check the time as you finish and you stand up swiftly. “I have to be across campus in ten minutes!” You yelp.  “Can you take care of this for me, please?!” You gesture to your tray and Leonard nods, reaching out to take your hand.  He gives it a quick squeeze and lets you go.  You’re already rushing away as you wave to him, heading for the exit. “Good luck, Y/N!”  He calls to you.  “You’ll do great!” You’re smiling as you run across the courtyard and head for the robotics building.  As you jog, the heat of your skin causes the scent of the cologne he sprayed on your wrist to intensify and fill the air around you.  You breathe it in deeply and feel yourself relax a little bit, especially when you consider that in a few short hours, after your exam, you’ll be enveloped in that smell again as Leonard hugs you in celebration. Walking into the room, you find your seat and pick up your stylus.  As the clock strikes 0800 hours, you settle in and let it fly across the screen. Stress or no stress, you’ve got this.

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