#its crazy cause the cops came in yesterday looking for someone

[analogboii]

what its like having me as a manager part 5838

[shiningloki]

“Behind Locked Doors” Playlist

After the amazing response to the “Get On Your Knees And Pray To Me” playlist, I felt it was finally time to formally put together a playlist for my Professor Tom Hiddleston fic, “Behind Locked Doors”. Just like the “Get On Your Knees And Pray To Me” playlist, you will find a collection of songs with Youtube links to listen to each individual song along with a few select lyrics from each song that stand out to me! You can also listen to the complete playlist on Spotify!

Happy listening!

Read “Behind Locked Doors” here

This playlist loosely follows the plot of the story. I recommend listening to the songs in order, but shuffling them is also fine as well!

Listen to the playlist on Spotify

Slow Hands - Niall Horan

"We should take this back to my place" That's what she said right to my face 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby I've been thinking 'bout it all day And I hope you feel the same way, yeah 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby

Slow, slow hands Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry No, no chance That I'm leaving here without you on me I, I know Yeah, I already know that there ain't no stoppin' Your plans and those Slow hands (woo) Slow hands

Aviation High - Semi Precious Weapons

I like the way you look in my town I like the way you look at my street I like the way you look in my house I like the way you look in my sheets

I like the way you taste with a drink I like the way you taste with a smile I like the way you taste when I sing I like it when its been a while I like it when its been a while

Gorilla - Bruno Mars

Yeah I got a fistful of your hair But you don't look like you're scared You're just smiling tell me daddy it's yours 'Cause you know how I like it use a dirty little lover If the neighbors call the cops, call the sheriff Call the swat we don't stop We keep rocking while they knocking on our door And you're screaming give it to me baby Give it to me motherfucker

Oh look what you doing, look what you done But in this jungle you can't run 'Cause what I got for you I promise is a killer, you'll be banging on my chest Bang bang, gorilla

New Light - John Mayer

I'm the boy in your other phone Lighting up inside your drawer at home all alone Pushing 40 in the friend zone We talk and then you walk away every day Oh, you don't think twice 'bout me And maybe you're right to doubt me, but

But if you give me just one night You're gonna see me in a new light Yeah, if you give me just one night To meet you underneath the moonlight Oh, I want a take two, I want to breakthrough I wanna know the real thing about you So I can see you in a new light

No Control - One Direction

Got the taste on my tongue I don't want to wash away the night before And the heat where you laid I could stay right here and burn in it all day

Waking up Beside you, I'm my loaded gun I can't contain this anymore I'm all yours, I've got no control No control Powerless And I don't care, it's obvious I just can't get enough of you The pedal's down, my eyes are closed No control

Heartbreak Weather - Niall Horan

Yeah I saw you smiling, breaking the silence Telling me just what you want There in the moment, I was reminded I haven't felt this way in a while

Blinded by the sparks We were driving around in the dark Finding reasons to stay where we are

All of my life I've been sleep-walk living Running around the same bars I've been in It can be so lonely in this city But it feels different when you're with me All of my life, it's been heartbreak weather Thinking to myself it won't get better It can be so lonely in this city But it feels different when you're with me

Yeah, it was magic, you were a vision Watching the way your body moves Taking your clothes off, you look in the mirror Telling me just what you want, and I

Was blinded by the sparks I was holding you close in the dark Finding reasons to stay where we are

Flawless - The Neighbourhood

She planned ahead for a year, he said let's play it by ear She didn't want him to run, he didn't want her to fear Nobody said it'd be easy, they knew it was rough But, tough luck

I fell in love today, there aren't many words you can say That could ever get my mind to change She's enough for me, she's in love with me

You're a doll, you are flawless But I just can't wait for love to destroy us I just can't wait for love You're only flaw, you are flawless But I just can't wait for love to destroy us I just can't wait for love

Big White Bed - AJR

All I want is you, my dear We will live up on the tree In a big white house, in a big white bed

Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

Settle down with me And I'll be your safety You'll be my lady

I was made to keep your body warm But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms

Oh no My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed in my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

Yeah I've been feeling everything From hate to love From love to lust From lust to truth I guess that's how I know you So I hold you close to help you give it up

Save My Heart - Jason Reeves

I want what I can't have I wanna make you mine I don't care what it takes I'm fearless with my heart I'll take it any place I don't care if it breaks I wanna tell you things I never tell myself These secrets hurt like hell, oh Call me crazy, maybe I'm insanely Out of my mind but it'll never phase me If I have to, I'm not afraid to Save my heart for you I'm a rebel even if it's trouble I'ma pull you out from the rubble If I have to, I'm not afraid to Save my heart for you Tell me I'm wrong Turn around and run Still I'm gonna save my heart for you

How Would You Feel (Paean) - Ed Sheeran

You are the one girl And you know that it's true I'm feeling younger Every time that I'm alone with you

We were sitting in a parked car Stealing kisses in the front yard We got questions we should not ask but

How would you feel, if I told you I loved you? It's just something that I want to do I'll be taking my time, spending my life Falling deeper in love with you So tell me that you love me too

Secret Love Song, Pt. II - Little Mix

We keep behind closed doors Every time I see you, I die a little more Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls It'll never be enough As you drive me to my house I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down You and I both have to hide On the outside where I can't be yours and you Can't be mine But I know this We got a love that is homeless

Why can't I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

Teacher’s Pet - Melanie Martinez

Caught the teacher giving his eyes to a student Thought he pretty cute and she bit her lip back to him Chewing on her nails and her pens while she's dreaming of him And he's fucking in sin, you know he is

She said, "It's for all the right reasons Baby, don't care 'bout grades Just call me your lady If I pass this quiz will you give me your babies? Don't call me crazy You love me but you won't come save me You got a wife and kids, you see them daily Don't know why you even need me"

Teacher's pet If I'm so special why am I secret? Yeah, why the fuck is that?

Meet Me in the Hallway - Harry Styles

Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out Gotta get better, gotta get better Gotta get better, gotta get better Gotta get better, gotta get better And maybe we'll work it out

We don't talk about it It's something we don't do 'Cause once you go without it Nothing else will do

Yesterday - The Beatles

Yesterday All my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as though they're here to stay Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly I'm not half the man I used to be There's a shadow hangin' over me Oh, yesterday came suddenly

Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday

Back to You - Selena Gomez

You could break my heart in two But when it heals, it beats for you I know it's forward, but it's true

I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to When I'm lying close to someone else You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it If I could do it all again I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you

Kiss It Better - Rihanna

Man, fuck your pride Just take it on back, boy take it on back boy Take it back all night Just take it on back, take it on back Mmm, do what you gotta do, keep me up all night Hurting vibe, man, and it hurts inside when I look you in your eye

What are you willing to do Oh tell me what you're willing to do? (Kiss it, kiss it better, baby) Oh what are you willing to do? Oh, tell me what you're willing to do? Kiss it, kiss it better, baby

All Of The Stars - Ed Sheeran

I can hear your heart On the radio beat They're playing 'Chasing Cars' And I thought of us Back to the time, You were lying next to me I looked across and fell in love So I took your hand Back through lamp lit streets I knew Everything led back to you So can you see the stars? Over Amsterdam You're the song my heart is Beating to

So open your eyes and see The way our horizons meet And all of the lights will lead Into the night with me And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe All of these stars will guide us home

[humanmoodring-retired]

Let Sleeping Ghosts Lie || Nadia? & Remmy

Timing: Last Night

Parties: @humanmoodring & @whatsin-yourhead

Summary: Nadia falls from heaven. Luckily, Remmy’s there to save her.

It should be said that it had been a long time since Nadia robbed someone’s home. She usually stuck with pickpocketing or even conning people out of their money. If she was gonna rob a place, it was usually a bank, or maybe even a store. But here she was, two stories up in an apartment complex downtown, searching through drawers and emptying out cabinets. She was only here because the dumb fucks had left their window open when she walked by, loudly talking about their date night and how much fun it was going to be at the carnival. Well, fuck that, and fuck them for being dumb. Nadia was nothing if not athletic, though she’d lost a bit of her upper body strength during her time away.

Nadia’d stashed several pieces of jewelry, one designer purse, and a handful of antiques (including a set of photographs that she’d keep as a souvenir) in her bag by the time she heard the front door open. Her head shot up, banging loudly against the top of the bathroom cabinet, and she cursed her bad luck. Well, shit. Looked like she was going out the window as the sound of voices grew closer. She opened the window (hopefully, this experience would teach these assholes to lock their stuff) and swung her body out, expecting a ledge to land on. No such luck. As she realized she was falling two fucking floors down, Nadia allowed herself to go limp. She landed on a dumpster and rolled off, the left side of her lower body in major pain. She groaned as she attempted to sit up, checking her bag to make sure nothing inside had gotten damaged in the fall. Fuck, she could really use some of those phoenix tears at the moment.

Remmy had tried to leave the house several times that day. Every time, though, they’d get to the end of the driveway before turning back. They weren’t sure what was wrong, they’d gone out several times before, but something kept causing their chest to constrict and their legs feel like jelly. It had taken hours and by now the sun was down and they were standing at the edge of the driveway staring into the dark road. Why was this so hard? Why today? They’d felt fine yesterday. And then they’d woken up in a sweat after trying to meditate and now they couldn’t make themself go out and do something normal. They’d screwed their eyes shut and walked forward as much as they could until the fear gripped them again and they forced their eyes open, only to find themself at the end of the block. A loud THUMP! Sounded to their right and Remmy yelped, slapping their hands over their mouth at the noise they’d made.

Upon closer inspection, they saw someone laying next to a dumpster, and they looked hurt. Pretty badly. “H-hey!” Remmy called, glancing around anxiously before heading down the alley. “A-are you okay? Wh-what happened?” they asked as they approached. Normally, they wouldn’t hesitate to run up and help someone, but things had changed since they’d gotten out. Kindness was not something they’d taken lightly before, but it felt almost constricting now. “Do you need help?”

“Fell,” Nadia managed to groan out as the stranger in front of them asked what happened. Like she was gonna fucking explain that she’d been robbing someone and fell out of the motherfucking window. Not gonna happen. “S’all good.” Oh, great. She was slurring her words and not on purpose. Did she hit her head? She leaned against her left arm and, nope, that hurt. That hurt really fucking bad. “S’not all good,” she said. Fuck, she was an idiot. Why didn’t she just check to make sure there was actually a ledge before she jumped out the window? She was too fucking concerned with making her first robbery since she’d gotten her life back a good one, and not concerned enough about proper planning. Well, she couldn’t make that mistake again. She looked up to the stranger, a rather adrogynous person who looked concerned even through Nadia’s blurry eyes. She couldn’t feel them. At all. She slumped back down a bit. “My backpack alright?”

“You fell?” Remmy gaped, coming a little closer, tentatively reaching out to try and help when the woman shuddered against the dumpster. “Like…” they looked up, then back down at her, “from that window?” Exasperated, Remmy scrambled for a moment, picking up the bag that had fallen next to her and holding it out. “Seems fine, but that-- you look really hurt. You need to go to a hospital,” they said worriedly. Unless...If she’d fallen out a window and survived, she probably wasn’t all human. Remmy’s body stiffened and they felt a shiver run through them. What if she was a hunter? They set the bag next to her, pulling their arms into their sides for a moment. “Uh, unless y-you can’t. For um...some reason.” Yes, that was a good way to test the waters. This would be fine.

“From heaven, actually,” Nadia said with a pained smirk. This was a bad time for a joke, probably, but she didn’t give a shit. “Long fall. Might’ve fucked up my hip, and my leg. Probably my wrist, too.” Maybe even her ribs. She landed hard and was still too tensed up when she hit. She used her right arm when she tried to get up again. She gritted her teeth, though a pained sound still managed to work its way out, as she pulled herself to her feet. Well, foot. She couldn’t put any weight on her left leg. She leaned heavily against the dumpster. Walking to her bike was going to be a bitch, and driving home was going to be absolute hell. She should’ve packed a vial of tears with her. “No hospitals,” she managed to say. She couldn’t risk someone figuring out who she was. If they didn’t catch her as a criminal, someone would be wondering what the hell sweet little Nadia was doing in the hospital, and someone would check her over, and she’d get some fucked up detail wrong, and, “Can’t do hospitals, I’m afraid.” She grimaced, attempted to turn it into a smile. “Insurance is a bitch.” Fuck, she wished she could get a read off this person. She was getting zilch, and it sucked. She relied on empathy a little too much, apparently, and it was gonna bite her in the ass.

She was joking, so that meant it couldn't’ be too bad, right? Remmy still felt like their skin was vibrating, and she was clearly in pain, despite trying to hide the pained wheeze that came out when she stood again. “O-okay, yeah,” they said quietly, “N-no hospitals.” Insurance, right. Wasn’t that the excuse Remmy had given once before? They finally came over to her, feeling slightly more at ease the more they talked. “C-can I help you get somewhere?” they asked, holding a hand out to see if she’d take it. “Even if you can’t go to a hospital, you should at least get somewhere you can rest. I know I don’t look it, but I’m pretty strong, if you um...need help,” they offered, trying to give a reassuring smile. They stole another quick glance around before focusing back on her, worry wrought across their face.

Shouldering on her backpack, which was painful, Nadia cracked her neck, which was almost just as bad, and looked down to where she’d parked her Harley. “Thanks,” she said, a little surprised but also pleased this timid person was going along with her desire for no hospitals. Which, if she couldn’t feel them at all, they were likely the type that didn’t do hospitals, either. Ugh. The living dead. She knew her host would probably like them, like the respite from emotions that they offered, but Nadia wasn’t too crazy about them. Never had been, not since she’d died the first time around. “Bike’s over that way.” She motioned for them, but, honestly, she couldn’t fucking ride. Not like this. “’ve got medical shit at my apartment.” If she could just make it back, she’d be set. Really, she could stomach this. She didn’t think she broke anything major. She landed on her hip pretty rough, but other than that… “Might even sleep it off. Maybe. After the tears, definitely. “

Remmy flinched slightly as the woman picked up her pack. Her pain was almost palpable to them, watching her move stiffly and try and wave it off. Falling out of a building wasn’t something just anyone could glance off, but she didn’t seem to be suffering too much. Still, she was wounded and Remmy couldn’t just leave her. They looked in the direction she pointed. “Oh, um-- I...I don’t know how to drive…” they muttered, realizing how stupid that sounded out loud. They really needed to get Morgan to teach them. “What if I brought you back to my place? It’s um-- close by. I can at least patch you up, call you a-- an uber or something,” they suggested, worried that she would reject their help now, knowing that they couldn’t really actually help. Not in the way she needed. “Tears?” they asked, blinking. “Is that like...a medication?”

Despite the fact that Nadia’s empath abilities were bullshit in a situation like this, this particular member of the undead was fairly simple to read. The way they flinched and responded to her pain. It could be useful. They seemed polite and timid and a little unsure about everything, and Nadia could work with that, if she needed to. At the very least, it could get her a ticket home. There were sounds coming from the apartment above as the occupants seemed to realize that a few things were probably not quite right in their apartment, and Nadia knew that she needed to get out of there right fucking now. At the very least, she wanted to be gone before the fucking cops showed up. “That’d work. Yeah, that’d work.” If they could save her hide, she’d owe them, that was for sure. “Tears?” Huh, she didn’t even realize she’d said that out loud. “Sorta. Best shit someone like me can get a hold of.”

“Oh, okay! Cool. I mean-- not that your situation is cool, but uh-- yeah, cool. I can-- yeah,” Remmy stuttered, moving to help support the side of her that she was avoiding standing on. They moved slowly enough along the path and out of the alley way, but Remmy felt as if the woman wanted to somehow move faster than the pace they were doing, despite her injuries. Remmy didn’t want to hurt her further, though, so they kept a steady pace. “I’m um-- I’m Remmy, by the way. Figured I should uh, let you know who I am so it’s not like...some stranger taking you to their house.” Or, the house they were staying at. Lydia wasn’t home as often as usual these nights, but that was okay. They hefted the other woman up a bit. It would be faster if they could just carry her, but that seemed a little odd to offer. “Are you doing okay? How-- how did you fall there, anyway?”

“Super cool,” Nadia teased a bit, though she kept a smile on her face. Or tried to. After the stranger, Remmy, started helping her, she kind of blacked out a bit when they started moving. She had to lean on them more than she would have liked, but, fuck it, she couldn’t put weight on her leg. It hurt too much. “Nice to meet you, Remmy.” She said, though it wasn’t particularly nice at all. Maybe, if they’d met under better circumstances, things would be different. She’d probably steal their wallet, but still. Different. “‘M Nadia.” It did occur to her that she was trusting someone that was likely an undead fiend with her safety, but, damn, they just seemed so nice. “S’long as you don’t eat my brains or drink my blood or whatever, you can take me wherever the fuck you’d like.” Fuck, she felt too heavy. “Fan-fucking-tastic,” she said breezily. “But, uh, window. Thought there was a ledge. Wasn’t. Fell.”

Okay, this wasn’t going well. Nadia looked like she was about to pass out and they weren’t close to Lydia’s yet. Remmy stopped a moment, then shifted, before hoisting her up onto their back and lifting her off the ground. “Better?” they asked before continuing their pace, a little quicker now, wanting to get somewhere she could lay down and they could assess the damage properly. The collar shifted around their neck slightly and Remmy froze for a moment before shaking it off. “Shit, that’s--” bad? What were they supposed to say? Remmy ruffled their brow a little. “I’m sorry, that sounds really painful. Why were you leaning out the window? That’s dangerous.” The mention of brain eating and blood made them go quiet for a moment. So she did know about those things. They looked out of the corner of their eye back to Nadia before glazing forward again. “I won’t do any of that,” they said quietly, “I know we just met, but you can trust me.” Lydia’s house came into view finally and Remmy turned up the drive. They hoped Lydia didn’t mind a wounded girl in their room.

Even though she hated feeling weak, Remmy really was helping Nadia as she kind of slumped forward a bit. “Better,” she murmured because, yeah, it fucking was. She catalogued the device around Remmy’s neck in the back of her mind, but, having never come across anything like it, decided to save thinking about it for later. “I was climbing out of it. Big into that parkour shit. Miscalculated.” It could have been a lot worse. She could have been on a higher floor. She could have broken both of the legs in the impact. Definitely could have been worse. “Don’t sweat it,” Nadia said, leaning a bit more solidly against them. She didn’t tell them she trusted them. She didn’t trust anyone, not even her own body (especially not her own body). “Couldn’t feel you. Figured something was up.” Damn undead and their inability to be read. She hated it. Was it the lack in pulse that made them hard to read? Had to be. She could read a whole slew of supernatural creatures, but not vamps or zombies or even ghosts. She didn’t mind the last one. She knew what she’d be picking up: jealousy that she had a body and they didn’t. “You a brain or blood person?”

“Couldn’t feel me?” Remmy asked as they moved up the driveway to the front door. Nadia’s weight was negligible to them, even with their strength not up to par. “What...what do you mean?” Was it a lack of physical feeling, like Remmy? Was Nadia undead, too? But that wouldn’t make sense with how hurt she seemed to be. Remmy could’ve fallen out the window and immediately stood up without so much as a scratch. So...human-ish, still, it seemed. “I’m um-- a brain person,” they muttered, still feeling that pang of shame as they said it. When would they be able to move past that? When would it no longer hurt? They opened the front door and shimmied inside, shutting it with their foot, before heading to their room. The house was quiet tonight, and Remmy focused on the fact that Nadia needed their help instead of the illusion that the walls were closing in and the doors had bars on them. They set her down on their bed before heading off to grab the first aid kit and coming back in. “You’re not like...worried?” they asked, holding out the first aid kit. “Most people get pretty um-- squirmy when I tell them I’m a zombie.”

“Like, emotions. Couldn’t feel those,” Nadia told Remmy’s shoulder. “Know you’ve got ‘em, just can’t feel ‘em.” She wondered if the little zombie knew what an empath was. If they didn’t, she wouldn’t be surprised. Her own fucking host hadn’t known what an empath was until recently. Meanwhile, Nadia’d been kicking it with empaths since before she was one; they were so fucking nice to have around, even if they’d been wary of her. She wasn’t going to tell Remmy that she didn’t like zombies. After all, they probably couldn’t help it, and they definitely didn’t seem to revel in the fact that they were one. Instead, she laughed a bit when they came back through the door. “Got a bit of experience with dead people. You’ve just managed to keep your body, which is pretty,” rude, “cool.” She moved her left hand and rotated the wrist, hissing a bit when the movement stung a little. “‘Sides,I can’t do shit to get away. You seem nice. I’m not much of a worrier.” If Remmy was going to hurt her, then they were going to hurt her, and she’d just have to find a new body. Preferable one that she hadn’t broken up a bit.

“Emotions?” Remmy blinked. “You can feel people’s emotions?” That was...neat? Interesting? Remmy had never even thought of that being possible, but seeing people transform into bears and seals and throw fire taught them to stop questioning things. “That’s cool, too. Probably comes in handy, huh?” They backed away a little and stood awkwardly for a moment, watching her wince in pain as she tested her limbs again. Remmy winced in turn, they couldn’t help it-- they hated watching people in pain. “Well, I mean...I wasn’t trying to. Keep it. Or, um-- stay alive. It just...happened, I guess.” They finally decided to back up against the wall and slide to a sit. “I’m not gonna hurt you, though.” They never wanted to hurt someone ever again. “Maybe you should worry a tad more, then maybe you wouldn’t fall out of windows,” they tried to tease lightly, looking up at her.

“I’m what the cool kids call an empath,” Nadia said, “of the supernatural persuasion. Can’t complain. It’s useful as hell.” When it worked. When it didn’t, she had to fall back on older tricks to reading people. She was lucky Remmy was so open and easy to read. Other people of the undead variety tried a bit harder to keep their emotions hidden. Remmy didn’t seem to share that sentiment. They seemed genuinely pained at watching her pain. For a moment, she wondered if they’d been an empath in life and just hadn’t known it. Empathy pains were always a bitch. “No shame in it. I’m pretty fucking grateful you’re alive.” She glanced at where they’d left the first aid kit. She’d probably need to start binding shit so it didn’t jostle as much. “Would’ve had to crawl my ass to East End. What a bitch.” She hoped there were some pain pills in there, too. “Sometimes you’ve gotta fall out of a window or two. Happens.” She gave them a grin.

Nadia was taking this whole thing pretty well, even going so far as to share with Remmy what she was. They glanced up and saw her struggling for a moment. “Oh, here,” they said, scooting up to her and taking the binding up, “lemme help.” They weren’t the best medic, but Darius had shown them quite a bit back in the military whenever he could. “Where does it hurt most?” When they looked up at her again, they found themself staring just a little too long. Nadia was a very good looking woman, even with the scrapes and bruised limbs. Clearing their throat, Remmy looked down. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. “Well, um-- thanks. I’m glad I could be here to help you out. Though, not sure I’ll be around for the second time you fall out a window so maybe like...be a little more careful?” they said, giving a short grin, finding themself getting more and more flustered, fumbling to pull the binding apart.

“Thanks,” Nadia murmured. She laughed a bit, “Where doesn’t it hurt? I think I fucked up the entirety of the left side of my body.” She rolled her shoulders, which was probably a mistake, but she felt something pop, so that was probably a good sign. Probably. “Definitely maybe broke my foot. It’s not taking weight. Ribs might be bruised. Wrist hurts. If you’ve got pain pills, I can maybe sleep it off.” She looked at Remmy, took the way their gaze lingered a bit. She cocked her head to the side, slightly. She could work with this. “Not planning on falling out of any more windows, babe, but you’re certainly the one I’d want around.” She started struggling with her shirt a bit, intending to check out her ribs a little better. “Little help, please?” She caught their eyes and did her best not to appear overly flirtatious. This probably wasn’t the time or place, unfortunately, especially since they were pretty hot.

“Shit…” Remmy muttered, “I’m sorry. I wish I could-- I dunno...make it not hurt.” Like with some magical cure. Maybe Nell knew something to help, they could text her tomorrow and ask. Or if they could get her back to her place, whatever it was Nadia said tears were, maybe those could fix it. “Oh, yeah-- pain pills.” They turned and rummaged through their bag. Back when they’d still been stupid enough to take human medicine, the doctors had given them some high strength pain pills for the supposed aches they would get. Remmy had never needed to take them, seeing as they couldn’t feel pain. “Here. They’re the good kind.” They took out a few and held them out to Naida, then grabbed the water glass and held it to her. Fumbled it a little more, cheeks immediately flushing. “Oh, uh-- I’m-- I mean--” swallowed hard. She was taking her shirt off now. Remmy needed to focus. “Yeah. Yup. I can-- yep.” They set the stuff aside and stood, grabbing her shirt gently and tugging it up over her head. The large bruise on her left side was telling. “Shit…” Remmy muttered again. “Do you-- do you heal fast?”

“What’s a little pain?” Nadia asked, shrugging a bit. She kind of liked it, sometimes, when it wasn’t eating away at her brain and making it hard to think. Pain was grounding; it made her feel real, connected, like she was a person. After spending so long as nothing, anything felt good as long as it was something. When Remmy handed her the pills, she swallowed them dry before chasing them with the water. “Fuck,” she said, roughly. That felt nice. She hadn’t even realized she was thirsty, she’d been so caught up in making sure her stuff and her body were alright. She let them help her with her shirt. Her right hand immediately went to her side, poking at the bruise that encompassed it. It seemed like she’d gotten the bottom of her ribs and then just a bunch of bruised flesh. Maybe nothing was bleeding in there. That’d suck. “I heal at a very sad, human pace.” Unfortunately. Sometimes, she wished she’d picked a stronger body, but Nadia’s had it’s benefits. Like, for instance, making a cute zombie stutter. She gave a lazy thumbs up. “Pain pills are great, though.”

Remmy let out a short breath, setting Nadia’s shirt next to her and backing up a little bit. Nadia was prodding her side and Remmy dropped their gaze. They didn’t want to stare and have her get the wrong idea. They clasped their hands behind their back. “Oh, um, good!” they said, nodding, “that you uh-- that they’re good.” They shrugged. “I can’t really um-- feel pain anymore--” unless it was a giant, stone monster ripping them in half-- “so you can keep ‘em.” They moved a little and shuffled to sit on the end of the bed, a little ways from Naida, but not too close. The only shirtless girls they’d ever had in their bed were Julie and Luce, and this was nothing like that. They hoped Lydia wouldn’t ask questions, because they weren’t sure how to answer them. “You can uh-- if you wanna lay down you can. Does it--” they looked down at her side again, somehow curious, “does it hurt?”

“That sucks,” Nadia said, a bit more serious than she usually was. “The pain thing.” She knew how much it sucked, to not feel anything. Pain was unpleasant, but the feeling of being untethered to the world, that was much, much worse. She’d definitely think about keeping those pills, though. She’d use the phoenix tears for major problems, like this one, but pills could be helpful in smaller situations if she didn’t feel like powering through them. And this was good shit. She was already beginning to feel it. She leaned back a bit, body propped up with her right arms. She was comfortable enough, but she wanted to keep an eye on Remmy. Not that she thought they’d hurt her; she wouldn’t even half to be an empath to know that was probably the last thing on their mind. Unless they were just a fucking phenomenal actor. But no one was that good, not even her. There were no breaks, no discrepancies in Remmy’s facial expressions to give them away. They seemed utterly sincere. It was naive, really, but in a cute way. “Like a motherfucker,” she said. “Hurts, and it’s uncomfortably hot but not like the rest of me.” She gave them a flirty grin. If she wasn’t so worried about scaring them, she’d ask for a hand in cooling off. Zombie fingers had to be even better than an ice pack.

“Yeah, well, I can’t feel much of anything, so…” Remmy shrugged again, leaning forward slightly, hands pressed into their lap. “Guess it’s a win-lose there. I can like-- sort of feel. Like really intense things, though. So it’s not uh-- all bad.” It was still a hard thing to explain, seeing as it was still something Remmy didn’t understand well themself. They just knew that they could feel the pain of being torn in town and that they could also feel the soothing warmth of Luce’s hands. But Luce was-- they shook the thoughts away. Nadia seemed like she was relaxing a little more now and that made Remmy untense slightly. They didn’t know fully how to help her, but they wished they could just reach out and take it away. But they didn’t have that power. They had no power for anything, really. “Oh! I-- I can go get you an ice pack! I’ll--” they jumped up from the bed, somehow grateful for the excuse to leave. Not that they didn’t want to be here or helping Nadia, but their stomach was twisting a little. Why? They had no idea. “--I’ll go grab one.” And they scrambled out. They found a nice ice pack in the fridge and a towel, pausing for a moment to gather themself before going back in. They wrapped the ice in the towel and sat back down, holding out the pack before remembering Nadia only had one functioning arm. “Here…” they mumbled, pressing it gently to her side, trying very hard to not look at her. “B-better?”

For better or worst, Nadia knew exactly what the little zombie was talking about. Being a ghost, being dead, was all about intense emotions followed by long periods of feeling like blah. It might not be the same as a zombie’s inability to feel things physically, but it was certainly close enough. “That’s not so bad, then,” she said, though it still seemed to be, indeed, pretty fucking bad. She watched them rush out of the room and tried not to laugh too hard. It would’ve hurt, even if the pain killers were dulling everything at the moment. When they came back, she watched them fumble with what to do for a second before they placed the icepack against her side. She relaxed a bit more, allowing herself to fully lay down on the bed. Why a zombie had a bed, she didn’t really know, but she sure as hell wasn’t complaining. “Much,” she murmured. Her eyes began to close, fluttering open briefly to look at Remmy before closing again. She felt… safe might not be the right word. She’d never used it before. But she knew she wasn’t in danger, and she wasn’t worried about her host trying to take back control, so, really, this was the best she felt in a long time. “Much better.” She wasn’t falling asleep, just resting her eyes. That’s what she told herself as the painkillers kicked in.

“Yeah,” they replied, “not so bad…” Nadia seemed to be relaxing now, and Remmy let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t every day you saw someone falling out of a window, let alone two stories, let alone not immediately calling the emergency room. But in White Crest, maybe that was just something Remmy would have to get used to. They were still confused as to why she’d been jumping out a window in the first place, but it wasn’t really their place to ask, was it? Remmy had strange things they needed to do that they’d hate if people asked them about, like eating brains and regrowing limbs. So they let it lie for now, even as their eye fell on the bag Nadia had clung so desperately to. When they looked back, her eyes were closed and her breathing was steady. Remmy should’ve figured she’d pass out soon, those pills were pretty high strength. They shifted slightly to let the ice pack rest on her before picking up her bad arm gently and wrapping the binding around it to hold it steady until the morning. They moved her around to lay better on the bed, opting to not try and tussle with blankets and let her sleep as was. Scratching the back of their head, they looked around, unsure of what to do next, before deciding it was best to just let her rest. Flicked the lights off and headed out into the living room, settling in, feeling the soft warm of relief in their chest. They hadn’t felt this good about something in a long while, and though they were still worried over her injuries, knowing they’d done something to help felt...nice. Yeah, they could really get used to this.

[ask-de-writer]

LOST TIME (part 1 of 3) A fantasy of Flocking Bay.

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

LOST TIME

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

5556 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

written 2003

All rights reserved.

Reproduction  in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the  express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users  of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in  my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge   for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

///////////////////////

It stands out even in the dark ... It shouldn’t. It’s just a house. A damned old house. Not even that old really, not for New England. It’s a two story salt-box style with an observation deck under a cupola at the peak. It is probably just the setting. Rusty old iron fence, gnarled elderly trees, unkempt lawn not quite out of control, windows that the neighborhood kids haven’t broken. It should be a witch’s house but it isn’t. It is mine. I just closed on it yesterday.

The kids are going to have a field day this time. I don’t like the daylight... been on night shift as far back as I can remember. That’s a longish way back. But I’m not a witch, nor vampire. Nothing exotic that I know of. I’m just one of those people (you probably know one or two) who don’t show their age. If you envy me, think again. YOU try to explain to a traffic cop why your ID has you pegged for seventy+ and you don’t look over twenty. I carry a copy of my fingerprint record from the military, because they can check that.

Funny part of it is, I really don’t have the slightest idea how old I am. Traumatic amnesia the doctors called it, during the war. The head wound was minor, they said.

That is a matter of opinion. It robbed me of my past, my name, my identity, my loves and hates but left my skills intact. I was an empty shell. I am still trying to find my past.

The name that I use comes from more or less modern myth. Vandervekken. The Flying Dutchman. Wandering Dutchman would be more accurate. He sails the seas off the Cape of Good Hope until Judgment Day. He can’t find his home either. I bought the house because it is the first place that I have seen in over fifty years where I want to stay. You explain it.

The rusty gate opened silently, thanks to the bit of oil that I put on the hinges. Going up the uneven walk, between the looming trees is an experience. The door lock is old-fashioned but still works smoothly. Covered furniture could have made ghosts to haunt the place, if I were superstitious or given to being easily frightened.

As I said, I like the night. I even enjoy things with a bit of a spooky atmosphere. I also like antiques and handcrafted things which is why, if I ever find out who did it, I will cheerfully throttle whatever philistine covered the finely inlaid hardwood parquetry floors with battleship gray paint.

Stripping and refinishing those floors was on my priority job list. Actually, I shouldn’t beef too much. Pointing out the problem got me a price reduction of nearly $2000 on an already underpriced house with all of its furniture as part of the deal. Estates can be wonderful when you are on a tight budget. Too bad that someone else had to die to create my good fortune.

As I pulled the dust covers from the furniture, I saw that my good fortune was been complete. It was all sturdy, hand-carved hardwood with Chinese silk brocade upholstery. The furniture alone was worth what I had paid for the house and contents. The tops of even the smallest hall tables were inlaid with rich veneers, ivory and mother of pearl. You couldn’t buy furniture like this any more. Besides the cost, the ivory in the inlays is no longer legal to obtain. I could get as much from the sale of just one or two pieces as I could from a year of writing if I could bring myself to part with any of this treasure. It just feels like the house would not be complete without it.

Whoever it was that had died and left this for me to have has whatever blessings it is in my power to bestow. The only wonder is that this place stayed on the market long enough for me to find it. Usually, deals like this get snapped up by the real-estate brokers before people like me ever see them.

When I got to the kitchen, I received another little jolt. I knew that it was fairly up to date, but some thoughtful soul had stocked the fridge and set out a bit of a snack for me. Just cookies and a glass for the milk, which was staying cold in the cooler. Thoughtful. I wondered who did it.

While munching on the cookies, I opened a few windows to air the place out a bit. Going out to my car, I saw that the flags of the walk needed leveling because of the weeds that grew up between them. I drove around to the alley behind the place, opened the garage and parked Lilitu, my classic pre-war Packard touring car. She looked right at home in there. Few, even of modern garages were big enough for her. I ferried my few personal goods up to the house. On my last trip, I saw a couple of wide-eyed kids looking over the back fence.

“Told ya, told ya so!” one of them chanted. “There’s somebody sneakin’ inta the ol’ Vekin place!”

“I wouldn’t call it sneaking, to move into your own place,” I answered as civilly as I could manage. “I just bought it. Why do you call it the Vekin place?”

“If ya ain’t sneakin’, why ya goin’ in the back way? An’ after dark, too?” she shot back. I could now see that they were a girl and a boy. She was obviously in charge.

“I like nights. I’m a writer, so I can keep any hours I like. Why is it the Vekin place?” I asked again.

“Dun’no - Crazy guy named Vekin used to live there,” she contradicted herself.

“Lot of folks tried to buy the place since then,” the boy piped in.

“But nobody ever stays,” the girl finished for him firmly.

“So, this is the neighborhood’s haunted house?” I inquired jovially.

“No,” was as far as the boy got.

“Its down the street, on t’other side,” she cut in.

“I looked at that one,” I said thoughtfully. “The old Victorian. Somebody’s broken out all the windows. Not like here. If the Vekin house is so bad, why hasn’t some kid chucked rocks at it?”

“‘Cause we’re not THAT crazy!” exclaimed The boy, getting out a whole thought. The girl gave him a push, and they ran off into the night.

I got up about noon, after the most restful night’s sleep that I’d had since the War. After my breakfast and a quiet tour of the place from attic to basement, I went out. My goal was the local newspaper. THE FLOCKING BAY VOICE was sprawled across the plate glass window in Old English style letters of gold leaf and black. Smaller letters proclaimed Est. 1841. I pushed open the door. My nose was assaulted by the multiple odors of printer’s ink, paper and grease. The VOICE occupied one large room. An elderly web press crouched at the back of the space, behind several rolls of newsprint. Cubicles made offices in the middle of the room. An old oak counter that had once seen duty as a bar had several signs suspended over it on thin chains. They read ‘submissions’, ‘advertisements’, ‘subscriptions’, ‘billing’.

There was a bell on the counter. Some wag had put a sign on it, “Please ring bell, it won’t help but it will give you something to do.” I gave myself something to do, energetically, a few times.

A trim little blond lady answered the bell’s summons. She wore a green eyeshade and a pin on her sweater announced, ‘Lois Martin - cook, bottle washer & EDITOR in CHIEF.’ “What can I do for you, today?” she asked.

“I came to see what I can find out about the Vekin place,” I answered, trying not to stare at her.

“Just a moment, I’ll get the file out of the morgue. I was going to get it anyway. Somebody went and bought the place again.”

“Wait a minute,” I protested. “Someone buys a house and that makes news in Flocking Bay? This town must be even quieter than it looks.”

“Oh,” she retorted, “it can get downright interesting around here when the old Vekin place sells. You’ll see.” She disappeared among the cubicles and I heard her feet clattering down a flight of stairs. I heard a file drawer creak and slide, then slam shut. It wasn’t long before she reappeared, a rather fat file clutched in her hand.

“If you’d like, we can have lunch over at Mike’s Soda Shop,” she proposed. “He makes decent submarine sandwiches and real ice-cream sodas.”

“Well ... ” I pretended to hesitate, “I haven’t been invited out by a beautiful blond in a long time, so, yes.”

“I hope that I haven’t just made a fool of myself,” she remarked, laying aside the eyeshade. “You are Mr. Vandervekken aren’t you? The man who just bought the place?”

“Too true,” I said.

“Then I’ll make it an interview and deduct it from my taxes,” she smiled.

“You make enough to pay taxes?” I asked, looking back as we crossed the street.

“I have hidden assets. The paper is a tax shelter.” She opened the door of Mike’s and ushered me in.

As I was seating her, I just couldn’t help blurting out, “Your assets seem to be pretty obvious.”

She grinned, “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind. If I did, I wouldn’t wear a snug sweater and put my pin just here.” She pointed, then added, “Looking at it will keep you off your guard while I ask my questions.”

“OK, Ms. Martin, but let me look at the file first. You can order for me. You know the food here,” I said, reaching for the file.

“Lois,” she replied, “call me Lois, everyone else does.” Then she hollered to the man behind the counter, “Oh, Mike! Two butterscotch sodas and a big turkey sub! Divide it in half!”

“How did you know that I liked butterscotch?” I asked. “It’s not that common a preference these days.”

“I just had a hunch, that’s all. You looked like another butterscotch type person.”

I was leafing through the file on the rather beat-up table while we waited. I couldn’t resist snorting with amusement at the name of the house’s builder. Capt. Von Der Vekin. The house had been built in 1894 by the Capt. and his elusive son, Charles. Nobody had ever seen Charles until he came into town, on April 1st, 1900, to report his father’s demise and burial on the property. He ordered a headstone hewn of the local limestone. Charles had returned from WW I with honors and lived quietly, claiming to be a writer, though nobody ever saw any of his work in print. When asked, all that he would say was ‘Pseudonyms are great for privacy’. He was not so lucky when he volunteered to assist the French resistance in 1939. He never came home.

Next==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

[greekowl87]

Fic: When the Spirits Call

For the @xfilesfanficexchange​ October challenge for @BWJournal over on A03. Here is the @xfilesfanficexchange​ post here. This is a repost on Tumblr.

A/N: I had tackled this subject a bit before during a fic workshop. I almost forgot it. You can read that here. But for @BWWJournal, I tried to do something completely new. I hope you all like it. Thanks to @luiperlanegra​ over on Tumblr for giving me some great information about Dia de Los Muertos, including that lovely little legend about the holiday. Thanks to @clover-covered-hills​ for doing a quick beta for me. Sorry if the ending seems rushed. This was a challenge to write. 

Prompt: Dia de Los Muertos // between s9 and IWTB // Lighthearted, if you wanna get romantic that's great, would love maybe something along the lines of HTGSC type of mood, whimsical but with some reflection // MSR // DRR

It was Halloween eve in South San Diego and Scully found herself fidgeting in the chair as Mulder slide into the opposite chair across from her. He untucked the newspaper from under his arm and flapped it open. She crossed her legs and wrapped her arms around herself. “Well? Where’s the car?”

“Oh,” Mulder said. He tapped the palm of his hand sarcastically against his temple. “Four days.”

“What? You said the SUV had a loose spark plug. It shouldn’t take three days.”

“Four days,” he corrected quickly. “You know I’m not a mechanic anyways. But we’re in sunny San Diego. What could be bad about that? Hey, did you order food yet?”

“No, just water. You know what this means now, Mulder, right?”

“Yes, I do. What about this California King Burrito? We can split it, Scully. It comes with a guacamole salad on the side.”

“Mulder, why have to find a motel.”

“Already did.” He glanced at her and smiled. “We’ve been driving too much. Maybe a little air by the sea will do us some good, Scully. I can get you in one of those hot little bikinis.”

Scully rolled her eyes as he motioned for a server. A young woman came up with a smile on her face. “Finally decide on something, ma’am?”

“Yes,” he answered for them. He could feel Scully’s scathing glare. “We’ll have two margaritas and we’ll share the California King Burrito.”

“Excellent choice,” the server said. “I really would recommend the extra queso cheese. Makes the burrito even better.”

“We’ll have that on the side,” Mulder answered for both of them. “And oh, can I get a water as well?”

“Certainly. Ma’am, would you like a refill?”

“Please,” Scully answered tightly.

Mulder titled his head like a puppy. “What?”

“I don’t want to be here, Mulder.”

“We don’t have an option. Besides, I think I’m safe since your brother got transferred to Germany earlier this year. I’m not endangered of being drowned at sea.”

“That’s not it, Mulder.”

“Why? Are you worried about sticking out? We can dye your hair again if that is what you want?”

“No, no.” She sighed and pinched her nose. After a year of being on the run and dying her hair various shades, she was tired of being someone else. Somewhere between New Mexico and Arizona, she went back to being a redhead. “Mulder, I just have a feeling about this place. Our past few times in San Diego haven’t been ideal.”

He paused in thought. “Well, why don’t we do something? Tomorrow is Halloween. I’m sure you know some cool haunted house or something.”

“I don’t want to, Mulder. Remember Christmas and how well that turned out? No. I don’t want to deal with any angry ghosts that threaten to question our relationship or make us spend eternity with a murder-suicide. I already know we have forever and I don’t need us murdering each other to prove it.”

Mulder did not know whether to be touched or worried. She reached across the table to take his hand. “I’m not going to poison while you sleep.”

“That’s a relief,” he laughed. The server appeared with their drinking, skillfully setting them in front of Mulder and Scully. She also placed down a basket of salsa, chips, and the white sauce. Scully reached for her margarita and took a long sip. “Someone's thirsty, Dana,” Mulder said, using her given name.

It caught Scully off guard and she quickly averted her eyes. Not only a few sips, the margarita already working its magic

“My name is Luisa if you all need anything by the way,” the server said. “So, are you in town for a few days? You couldn’t come at a better time.”

“Halloween,” Mulder smiled. “We know.”

“Also it’s El Dia de Los Muertos starting tomorrow as well and it goes on through November 2nd. There is a lot of celebrations going on that are worth checking out if you’re in town for a few days.”

Scully was silent. “We’ll look into that,” he answered.

“Well, I’ll be here all week. Let me know if you need anything.”

Their server left and Mulder grinned at his partner. “That sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever you say, Mulder.” She picked at their chips. “Whatever you say. Just no haunted houses.”

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

It was near midnight as Mulder and Scully lay together in their seaside motel room. The lights were off except for the illumination of the television. She had her back to him and was gently playing with the golden cross that had only left her neck a few times. Scully jumped when she felt Mulder’s warm hand run up her back lightly and back down the length of her thigh. “Talk to me,” he whispered.

She shook her head and removed her hand from her cross. “I’m fine.”

“Scully, you and both know when you are fine and when you are fine.” He kissed her shoulder and encouraged her to turn so they could face each other. “Talk to me,” he repeated.

“It’s being here. I don’t know.”

“Or is the holiday?”

“What holiday?”

“We never had a case that involved the Day of the Dead. Why don’t we see what there is to see? Maybe there some celebrations we can go visit.”

“Why?”

“Why not? I know you don’t believe in that stuff but as that server said, it’s the Day of the Dead. Why don’t we partake in the holiday? It’ll be fun. I know we never had any cases connected to it but I thought it could be fun. You don’t have to answer right now. Just think about it.”

She shrugged and turned her back to him but turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” she whispered to him after a moment

Mulder held her close and closed his eyes. He scanned over his photographic memory of fables, legends, and paranormal knowledge to find a story to tell her. “I remember reading somewhere, long ago, about the legend of the cempasúchil flower.”

“The what flower?”

“The cempasúchil flower. Marigolds.” He sighed and began to rub her back slowly. He felt Scully’s breathing slow. “I just know they play a role in the holiday but do you know the legend about the flower isn’t a ghost story? It’s a love story.”

“What were you doing memorizing Aztec legends?”

“I read a lot as a kid, just like you. Do you want the story or not?”

“I’ll be quiet then.” She snuggled closer and pressed her ear against his chest, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat. She hugged him. “Aren’t you going to tell the story?”

“Ms. Impatient,” he teased softly. He kissed her fiery locks. “Okay, let’s see if I remember this.”

Scully closed her eyes and tried to will the thoughts over her deceased daughter and a lost son and listen to his voice. Mulder’s hand reached for the remote and turned off the television. He could make Scully out from the light reflecting from the parking lot.

“Okay, let me see if I can remember this.” He was silent for a second before starting again. “Okay, the lovers were named Xóchitl and Huitzilin. I’m pretty sure I am mispronouncing those names but anyways, they would travel up to the mountain and give flowers as an offering to the sun god. The god also showed his appreciation for his sunny weather.”

“I’m sure the legend doesn’t refer to ‘sunny weather.’”

“It’s been a while. Who��s telling the story, huh?”

She chuckled.

“Anyways, one day, it was particularly nice and they swore to each other that their love would last forever. Everything was good for a time but then war broke out. Huitzilin had to leave her to fight and protect their lands.” Scully winced slightly, thinking back to Mulder’s abduction, the months of uncertainty, and the pain of his temporary death. He rubbed her back to get her to relax. “But as most stories go, Xóchitl soon learned of Huitzilin’s death and she was devastated.”

“Mulder, I don’t think I want to hear anymore.”

“Let me finish at least.” Scully sighed and nodded against his chest. “She walked back up the mountain and begged the sun god to join her love for Huitzilin. And the god, moved by her words, turned her into a flower with fiery colors bathed in the sun’s rays. A hummingbird then appeared and touched its beak into its petals. The flower unfurled its pedals in all its glory. The legend goes that as long as the hummingbird and marigolds exist, the lovers will always be together.”

She smiled sadly. “It’s a lovely legend, Mulder. I wonder what it means.”

“It’s just the next step of the journey. Who knows, we might come back as a pair of dung beetles.”

“As long as we’re together.”

He laughed. “Go to sleep.”

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

Halloween. After a rousing breakfast of microwaved burritos, drip coffee, and a stale muffin, Mulder and Scully walked along the beach to gather their thoughts before the day officially began. It had become a morning ritual for them when they first went on the lam and they’d kept it up since then. “So,” Scully started, “what do you want to do today?”

Mulder took a deep breath, inhaling the sea air. “Why don’t we walk around downtown. Maybe go to little Italy? We can make our way back to where we had dinner yesterday. Maybe that waitress has someplace we could visit.”

“It’s Halloween,” she reminded him looking at him. “It’s probably going to be crazy tonight. People will be getting drunk, cops will be out, and I think the attention is something we can do without.”

“That hardly sounds like any fun. Did you grow up in San Diego? I bet you know all the cool spots to hang out and cause mischief.”

“You know I wasn’t that type of person, Mulder.”

“I know,” he chuckled. Scully looked away and focused on the distant horizon. “Scully? What is it?”

“Nothing, Mulder.” She smiled. Although she was a convincing actress, her eyes betrayed her. “Let’s head back to the motel, okay?”

“You can go ahead. I’m going to find a grocery store and pick up a few things.”

“We’re only going to be here for a few days. Why should you pick up a few things? We can just go out to get what we need as we need it.”

“Still, we both know it makes any drab motel room feel a little like home.”

“You can do that,” she told him. “I’m going back to our room.”

Mulder did not push the subject and simply settled for a chaste kiss on the cheek as she gathered her things and walked up the beach back to their motel room. He sighed and began to walk down the block towards the grocery store. As he got closer to town, he noticed the Halloween directions mixing with the skulls and skeletons from Dia de Los Muertos. He smiled as he entered into a small shop, the little bell by the door announcing his arrival. A woman smiled and greeted him. “Morning!”

“Morning,” Mulder replied. He took a basket and began to patrol the aisles in search of their food.

“Can I help you find anything, sir?”

“Um, I think I should be okay,” Mulder added after a moment. “What’s with all the skeletons?”

“Ah! Halloween and Dia de Los Muertos go hand and hand around here. We are right next to the Mexican border after all. Today marks the beginning of the day of the dead. On the 31st, children make little altars to invite the spirits of the children to visit. Families spend the time to clean up and tend to the graves, making little altars, and leaving gifts and offerings, including marigolds. The first and second of November are symbolic as well, the first being for adult spirits, and then the second the families go to the graveyard.”

“Sounds like a wonderful holiday.”

“It is. You’re not from here?”

“Um,” Mulder bit his lip before replying, “my wife and I are visiting the area. She grew up out here as a teenager.”

“Any family?”

Mulder was silent, berating himself for forgetting. “Not anymore. Hey, how late are you open till? We’re staying in a motel right down the block. The Sea Horse Inn.”

“Ah. Bill’s building. It looks like a shithole but it is a quaint little place. And it’s right on the beach. Yep, we’re open. We even got a deli offering delivery starting at lunch till close to there.” She produced a menu from behind the counter. “Here ya go, hun.”

“Thanks.”

“Is there anything you are looking for in particular?”

“Um, the basics but could you tell me more about the day of the dead?”

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

Scully drew the curtain to their motel room, closing her view of the Pacific Ocean. She did not know what it was being stuck in San Diego again that bothered her. Maybe it was the holiday. Maybe it was just being on the run for so long. All that she knew was that she felt uncomfortable and exhausted like she had been at sea for too long.

With the curtains drawn, Scully turned on the lamp near the little table that functioned as a desk and a dining table. She reached blindly for the television remote that she knew had placed there minutes before. But her hand grabbed only empty air. She frowned to see the television remote moved at the opposite end of the table. She frowned and quickly turned the channel trying to find something lighter. She settled on the Home Garden Network. As the hosts drowned on about finding the perfect house, Scully let her thoughts drift to Christmas 1997 and the daughter she never really had.

Emily.

Momentarily, she let herself believe it could have been possible. To be a mother. To have a daughter. She let herself dream of the possibilities that were far fetched. But those dreams were snatched away. In the same town of San Diego where her first nephew was born, her daughter had died at the same time. She remembered that night after the orderlies had taken Emily away to perform the hastily done funeral plans. Mulder had been there right by her side. First to hold her as she pounded her fists against his chest at the unfairness at all. He was the only there to hold her on her brother’s couch as she cried silently into his chest. Awkwardly, he was the only one at Emily’s funeral to have a proper boutique of flowers for her and he was the only one to never let her go.

But then came William.

William. Their miracle child. The child that represented all their hopes and dreams. The prayers of normal. She abandoned him because she didn’t know what else to do. She did not know how else to keep their son safe. So she gave him up.

She gave up on them.

Scully jumped when their motel door open with Mulder dragging one of those rolly carts that old ladies had when they did groceries. “Jesus, Mulder.”

“Scully! Did I scare you?”

“Yes! Be glad I didn’t have my weapon on me!”

Mulder chuckled and shut the door behind him. “I’m borrowing this cart from Louie.”

“Louie? Who’s she?”

“Louie is short for Luisa.”

“Must be a common name. So, if you run off with a woman with that name…”

“You have no fear because I have the same fear about you.”

“Haha. What did you come up with?”

She could smell the marigolds before he even walked in. Mulder produced the flowers, a Mr. Potato head doll, and some supplies for them. It was the child’s toy that made Scully flinch. “Why did you buy that, Mulder?”

“We’re in San Diego. I haven’t forgotten.”

“She wasn’t your daughter.”

“She should have been, Scully. She was close enough. She’s William’s big sister. She was my daughter too, even if I never had a chance to say it or prove it.”

At the mention of both of their lost children, she cried. He frowned and felt helpless. This wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting at all. He thought this would be something lighthearted that they could but now, he only felt bad for making her pain worse.

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

Later that day, Scully finally summoned the courage to agree with Mulder’s plan. They walked along the beach with the sunset, drawing on each other’s strength, before they decided to take a taxi to the graveyard near Holy Mother Catholic Church. As the taxi sputtered away, Mulder dropped the plastic bag on the cement to take both of Scully’s hands. Her eyes were focused on the graveyard ahead. “Look at me,” he commanded.

The voice that had called her out of the darkness numerous times did so again. She forced herself to look into his hazel eyes and hold it. She drew in

“I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

She nodded and disengaged herself. She tried to find some semblance of the FBI agent she used to be but failed as Mulder took her hand. But she failed. Her face crumbled as she bit her lip in a vain attempt to keep a straight face. It was rare for her to let her emotions get the best of her in public.

“Scully, it’s okay.” He kissed the top of her head. “And we’re not going to honor just Emily. This holiday is also about honoring family. We’ll honor our sisters as well, okay? From what I learned, Halloween is for the children's spirits. The rest of the holiday is for the adult spirits.”

Scully hummed in acknowledgment, her eyes fixated on the many headstones in front of them. She tugged his hand and with renewed strength, they made their journey to Emily’s grave.

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

They spent the rest of the afternoon in silence in front of Emily’s headstone. They decorated with marigolds they had brought from a local store in honor of the holiday. Mulder had left there briefly and returned carrying a small Mr. Potato Head. Scully cried even more. That evening, they collected a pizza as parents began to emerge on the streets with various miniature versions of pirates, superheroes, and everything from all walks of life. She stopped made a second stop at a small convenience store to pick up a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Are you sure that is such a good idea,” Mulder asked softly. Scully’s raised eyebrow shut down any other pending conversation. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay.”

“I just need to take the edge off,” she whispered. “Today…”

“I know,” Mulder acknowledged. “You ready for some pizza and bad horror movies?”

“Sure,” she whispered.

Mulder frowned. Maybe visiting Emily’s grave was a mistake. Maybe celebrating the whole Dia de Los Muertos was too. Scully was just withdrawing into herself. By the time they got back to their motel room, the pizza was barely warm and Scully stuff it into their mini-fridge. She grabbed one of the plastic little cups near the empty ice bucket and poured a hefty serving of Jack Daniels. Mulder kept his mouth shut as he watched her sit at the edge of their bed and flip through the channels.

“Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you, Mulder?”

“I don’t know. Have I done something to warrant Scully wrath?”

“You okay, Mulder.” She sighed and downed the whiskey in one gulp. “I just don’t want to feel right now.”

“We could…”

She shook her head quickly. “Not even that.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just hold me? Watching crappy movies and pretend we have a normal life where William is passed out from trick or treating and we watch Plan 9 from Outer Space.”

“I can do that,” he answered.

The pizza was forgotten and left in the fridge. Scully changed into a pair of sweats and one of Mulder’s tee shirts and he left his clothes on. She poured another shot of Jack Daniels and downed it, making her Irish ancestors proud. They always excelled at wordless communication and they crawled into their respective sides of the bed. Mulder opened his arm as she knew how to melt against his side. He pulled up the blanket around them and whispered, “Comfortable?”

“I got a good buzz and you. The only thing missing is a bad movie.”

“I promise we’ll have a normal life one day, Scully.”

“I know, Mulder.”

“I love you.”

She looked up and kissed under his chin. “I know.”

Mulder hugged her close and switched on the television. “What do you want to watch? Friday the 13th or House on Haunted Hill?”

“Which version?” She mumbled.

Mulder smiled. “Which one do you want to watch?”

“Vincent Price. That 1999 version reminds too much of one of our cases.”

“You got it, Scully.”

As the black and white movie played, Scully listened to his heartbeat and let the alcohol ease her off to uneasy slumber. Mulder hugged her close and sighed, switching the channel to something else when he sensed Scully had drifted off to sleep.

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

Scully knew from the instant that she opened her eyes that she was dreaming. The beach looked like something she had visited a long time ago from childhood. The sand was too white and the ocean too blue. It was too perfect. But she also knew something was off when she noticed Mulder standing next to her with the same confused look on his face. He looked surprised to see her. “Are we sharing a dream again?”

“We didn’t eat any hallucinogenic mushrooms did we?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, “but I think we are.”

Scully sighed. This was the last thing she needed on Halloween. “Fantastic. I thought this ended after that whole acid trip. I don’t recognize this beach.”

“I do,” he whispered.

Mulder looked down at his bare feet and glanced over to Scully. She was wearing jeans rolled up to her calves and a light tee-shirt, also barefooted. “Why is it that we are dressed for the beach?”

“I dreamed of this beach when I was locked in the hospital and you were in Africa. I saw our little boy here. I dreamed of him.”

Scully crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Then why are we dreaming of it now? What’s changed?”

“I don’t know.”

Over the crashing of the waves, they heard laughter from a nearby sand dune. Automatically, Mulder moved to stand in front of Scully as if to shield her. “Mulder!”

Over her protests, the laughter died away and a young woman with dark brown curly hair appeared on the dune. She couldn’t have been more than 15 years old. Mulder found himself star struck. “She looks like Samantha.”

“Mulder, Samantha died.”

“I know...how could we be dreaming this, Scully?”

The teenage girl laughed and retreated down the dune. “Mulder, it can be any number of things. Maybe we ate something or we were drugged.”

“Maybe it’s just Halloween and the spirits have come to call.”

“Mulder! There has to be a logical explanation for this.” She placed her hand on Mulder’s arm. “Maybe the mold in the motel room…”

From the direction of the sand dune, another voice called. Someone familiar. “There goes Dana, always finding a rational explanation for something.”

Scully stilled and her grip tightened around Mulder’s arm. Her blue eyes watered with unshed tears and she looked to Mulder to ground her. He shook his head, unable to come up with an explanation. “She’s dead. Mulder, that can’t be Missy’s voice. She’s dead.”

“I know.”

“This is a dream.”

“I don’t know at this point,” he replied.

Scully shook her head violently. “Mulder, this is a dream,” she insisted, stressing each word.

“Dana?”

It was Missy’s voice again but it was much closer this time. As Scully turned around to find the source of the voice, she screamed bloody murder. As he turned to see what his partner screamed about, he stood face to face with Melissa Scully looking the same as she did in 1994, vibrant and full of life. She smiled warmly. “Hi, Dana. Hi, Mulder. Happy Halloween, huh?”

“This isn't possible,” Scully repeated, backing away. “Mulder, tell me you are seeing this.”

“I am,” he replied. He stepped forward in front of Scully unconsciously as if to protect her. “What do you want?”

The Melissa Scully in front of her laughed airily and shook her head. “I knew you two would make a cute couple. Didn’t I tell you, Dana? It was only a matter of time.”

“Melissa! Are you tormenting Fox?”

The same teenaged girl from earlier appeared behind Mulder and Scully causing both of them to jump. “No, Sam, well not much.”

“I have to admit, Fox,” the teenage Sam sang, “I bet this is slightly better than dealing with those demented Christmas ghosts that tried to get you to kill each other. Kind of romantic though.”

“You would say that,” Missy countered.

“Well, I’m not the one going around saying Fox and Dana are cosmically connected.”

Neither Mulder or Scully could find a word to mutter between them and their deceased sisters carried on as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Did you leave my niece alone?”

“She’s my niece too,” Sam countered. “Maybe not by blood but she does call me Auntie Sammy. She’s fine right now.”

Scully took Mulder’s hand and pulled him away discreetly. “We need to wake up,” she whispered. “Mulder, we need to wake up.”

“I know but there isn’t a magical button.”

As Missy and Sam bickered, there was a chime somewhere in the distance. Both of the deceased sisters stopped and smiled at the confused pair. “That’s our time,” Melissa replied. “Till tomorrow night. Sam, why don’t you gather up Emily? It’s time for us to go.”

“Emily?” Scully whispered, not believing her ears.

“Of course, Dana. Don’t forget you invited her too.”

“Fox,” Sam smiled, shaking her head. “Till tomorrow.”

Mulder and Scully, speechless for once in their lives, watched their deceased sisters climb back up the dune and disappear over it.

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

Scully woke up with a jolt, hearing a siren blaring over the distant crash of waves outside the seaside motel room. It took a moment for her to become aware of her surroundings after she realized she wasn’t on the beach anymore. The television was still on, playing an infomercial about indestructible knives. She heard someone outside their door. Mulder instinctively hugged her as he took a deep breath, waking up himself. He rubbed her back and whispered, “It was just a dream. It’s all right.”

“We dreamed the same thing, didn’t we?”

Early morning Scully was too blunt for his tastes. “I don’t know. I think so. Maybe.” She let out a shaky breath. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. We can forget about it.”

She did not reply right away but instead closed her eyes. “Were we asleep long?”

“Um? Maybe? I don’t.” He let her go and set up in bed to check the clock. “It’s at four a.m. Do you want me to make the coffee?”

She shook her head and drew him back to bed. “No, I just want to try and go back to bed.”

“Do you want to talk about the dream?”

“You already know what it was about.”

Mulder knew better than to push her to talk and he lay back down beside her. “Do you want me to turn the channel?”

“Do you think they have those music channels?”

“Like MTV?”

“No,” she yawned. “Like those channels that play music.”

“I don’t know. The alarm clock has a radio though.”

“No,” she shook her head sleepily. “Leave the tv on then. I just don’t want to think.”

“You’ve been on edge since we’ve come to San Diego,” he told her. She curled back up beside him and he readjusted the blankets. “Visiting Emily’s grave…”

“I know,” she whispered.

Mulder sighed in frustration. When Scully withdrew into herself, trying to get her to talk was worse than breaking into Fort Knox. He learned long ago she would talk to him when she was ready, Scully would talk. The most that he could do was be there for her in the meantime. He sighed and nodded. “What do you want me to do, Scully?”

“Just…” She sighed. “Just be here for me?”

“You know that. Of course.”

With her finally comfortable, he snaked his hand up underneath her pajama top and caressed her bare skin. She sighed contently. “Never could turn down a good back rub, could you?”

She shook her head against his shoulder. “Never.”

“I could…”

“This is good, Mulder.”

Okay.

“Will you ever talk about it?”

Scully hugged him and sighed. “Let’s see if we share another dream.”

He’ll take that. “Okay. We still got a few more hours…”

“Sleep, leftover pizza, walk on the beach, and we’ll see where we go from there.”

He hugged her tightly. “I love you.”

She was caught off guard by his sudden proclamation. Usually, they weren’t as vocal in regards to the vocal sentiments and each time it surprised her. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself back asleep. She was safe with Mulder and any dream that she had.

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

By that afternoon, Scully let herself enjoy the San Diego beach near their seaside motel room. Mulder was in town somewhere, probably procuring more food or checking in on the status of their car. All she knew was that she was ready to leave San Diego and move on. But then, she was also tired of doing that too. Running. Driving. Whatever it was she was doing with Mulder.

Scully sighed and pulled back the beach blanket slightly to bury her feet in the warm sands. The sounds of the beach lulled her into a false sense of security. Even though it was officially the first day of November, she could see surfers in the distance down the shoreline. “Is the sea whispering its sweet secrets to you?”

She jumped as Mulder sat down next to her and offered her a sip of the drink he had. “You’ve been awfully morose for the past few days.”

“What do expect me to be?”

“I just noticed ever since we came to San Diego, something’s been off.”

“Oh, really? What was it? Visiting my dead daughter’s grave? Us hallucinating the same dream about dead relatives? The better reminders of how I failed as a mother with our son?”

“I didn’t say any of those things, Scully and know I never would.” He was silent. “Are you not telling me something?”

She shook her head.

“Okay. You can be like that. Or you could tell me.”

“I don’t know what to say. Or believe. The dream…”

“Is probably nothing. Why don’t we go back and finish celebrating Dia de Muertos? We won’t have to go back tomorrow if you want. Our car will be ready by then.”

“Where?” she asked. “Some other town where we can’t be us?”

“Is that what is bothering you?”

“Maybe.”

“Scully, you got to open up sometime.”

“I’m tired of running. Seeing Emily’s grave...it’s just a reminder.”

Mulder nodded in acknowledgment. “Why don’t we go one last time. Pay our respects. We can go out to dinner one more time and start the drive back east to Virginia. We can talk about settling down.”

“You would do that?”

“We’ll make it work. We always do, Scully.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she nodded. “I just want to stop running, Mulder. They haven’t come after us in three years. We got the message from my mother that I am not of interest anymore.”

“We’ll talk about it then. Let’s go visit her grave one more time, okay? Then we’ll grab dinner somewhere okay?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

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

Scully slid the keycard into the motel door lock, swinging the door to their room open. Mulder was right on her heels, his hands resting lightly on her hips, lightly kissing the crook of her neck tenderly. She relaxed against him. “You feel different,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Lighter,” he murmured. “I noticed you seem to be at peace.”

She pulled him closer, thinking about their last visit to Emily’s grave. Her headstone was not the only thing that had been decorated. There were other families there honoring their deceased family memories. She remembered overhearing other families talk about the holiday, how death wasn’t necessarily the end but rather a continuation of the next step in life. “Um, just a change of mind,” she replied. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the holiday. Maybe it’s something you said.”

“What did I say?” He asked curiously.

“Doesn’t matter,” she whispered.

“You know, we could do something a bit more adventurous.”

“Not tonight,” she whispered.

“You keep shutting me down,” he teased.

“I find cuddling you right now just as good.”

“Cuddling. Did you go and become a nun when I wasn’t looking, Saint Scully?”

“Humor me. I’ll make it up to you when we leave San Diego.” She turned in his arms and pulled him back into the room. “I can’t explain it.”

“So, more scary movies, leftover pizza, and maybe?”

“Maybe,” she teased.

Mulder shifted suggestively against her and she laughed. He shut the door behind them and Scully turned on the television, changing it to HBO. She disappeared into the bathroom and he heard the shower running. He smiled to himself and quickly changed into a t-shirt and pair of sleeping pants. He took a moment to reflect on the past few days as he grabbed two cold slices of pizza for him and Scully. The past few years on the run had been thought between them, testing and pushing the boundaries of their relationship. William and her decision haunted each mile they traveled together. The pain that Emily’s loss had caused seven years earlier never healed either. But now, maybe a chance to lay things to rest and do what Scully wanted, settle down and start a life.

He heard the shower turn off and Scully emerged dressed in one of his tee shirts mismatched with a pair of her pajama pants. “Dinner, Mulder? You shouldn’t have,” she laughed.

“It’s just pizza.”

“Quit being a Debbie Downer.” She paused after a moment and glanced at him. “Are you hungry?”

“You need to eat, Scully.

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

“This is the same beach,” Scully stated after a moment.

The sun was blinding the moment they both opened their eyes. In the distance, they both heard the waves crashing against the shore and a young child’s laughter in the distance. Mulder took Scully’s hand tightly. “I doubt the pizza is causing this.”

“We didn’t eat the pizza, remember?” Scully admitted. “Or maybe it’s something else.”

“Bout damn time you two got back. I was thinking you were avoiding falling asleep at all costs.”

In the distance, Melissa Scully wore a light sundress and sunglasses. She looked as beautiful as she did in 1995. Mulder could hear the children's laughter in the distance and he instinctively placed his hand over the small of Scully’s back. Melissa Scully waded down the sanddune and hugged Scully enthusiastically. Mulder watched her stiffen before returning the hug half-heartedly. “It’s the holiday,” Missy explained. “Makes it possible for the world to do whatever it is they do.”

Mulder arched an eyebrow reminiscent of Scully. “Sam was, uh…”

“The beauty of this world,” Scully’s sister answered, “we can appear as we want. Well, the dead anyways. She’s always changing. Something about a child’s spirit. Now Emily…” She laughed. “Keeps calling Mulder daddy.”

Scully held up her hands, having difficulty to process anything. Mulder licked his lips. “I’m going to leave you two. See my sister and… Emily,” he added carefully. Scully’s eyes burned into him. “It’s okay.”

Mulder ventured down to the beach where a younger version of his sister and Emily played in the surf. Scully glanced at Missy. “You would do this.”

“What?”

“Make a big entrance.”

“I didn’t go to medical school and make dad proud. Walk with me, Dana.”

“You don’t know how wrong this is.”

“Poor skeptical little Dana.” She laughed. “This is very much real. You know, Emily talks about watching over her brother...as much as a three-year-old can. I never thought you and Mulder....he looks so much like dad, Dana.”

“Do you think?”

“I know And I see Mulder as well in him. He’s safe, Dana. I loved too many people caring about him on both sides. Come on. Let’s watch them. Enjoy this memory.”

Melissa guided her sister to the tallest dune where Mulder chased his younger sister and Emily through the surf and Scully smiled, holding her elder sister close. “I know all this seems impossible but….”

“Let go of the skepticism and enjoy the moment.”

Both sisters sat on the dune and watched Samantha chase Emily. Halfway through, Mulder stopped his antics and looked for Scully. She waved half-heartedly. He bent down and whispered something to his sister who nodded in agreement. With Emily’s hand within hers, an eight-year-old Samantha Mulder appeared in front of her with Emily. Both of them smiled. “Thank you for not giving up on me, or Fox, Dana,” Samantha said.

Scully licked her lips, unable to answer.

“Love you, mommy,” Emily added with a smile. She tugged on Samantha Mulder’s hand with impatience of a three-year-old. “Sam, let’s go back to the beach. Come on!”

“Okay, beat you there!”

The two of them raced back to down to the beach past Mulder who was hiking back up to the Scully sisters. He took his partner’s hand and sat next to her. Melissa Scully smiled. “They’re okay. We’re all okay. Dad is too,” she added with a laugh. “But you know it’s him watching over mom. But unfortunately, the buck stops here you too. Our time is almost done.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s November 3rd,” Missy replied as if it was obvious. “Time for you to wake up and move on.” She smiled. “You always did make a cute couple.”

“Melissa!” Scully shouted.

Mulder grinned and acknowledged it with a sensual kiss to Scully.

“And here I was thinking the cosmically connected one,” she laughed. “You all need to move on, build and create the life you both deserve. You’ve suffered enough. Remember the past but don’t let it define you.”

“We were just talking about that,” Scully whispered, glancing at Mulder.

“Then you need to get a move on.”

“Think of it, Scully. We can go back to Virginia, buy that home we’ve talked about, and do stuff.”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “I will admit I do miss some earthly pleasures. I bet he’s fantastic, Dana from just looking at him.”

“Both of you stop it,” Scully laughed.

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

Two weeks later, halfway across the country in a Farrs Corner, Virginia, Mulder wiped the dust off a picture frame that had been in storage at Mrs. Scully’s home for the past three years. With their newly purchased unremarkable home, everything seemed possible. His partner smiled as she saw the picture of his younger sister and him. “Look how handsome you are,” Scully teased.

“I was mutant while going through puberty,” Mulder replied. “Unlike that cutey right there.” He pointed to a family portrait of the Scully siblings with Dana Scully smiling with pink hair and braces. “She’s gonna be my girl.”

Their newly purchased house promised a new future free of their painful past and fear of any government officials coming to arrest Mulder. They finally had a life they could start to build they wanted. Scully wiped the wooden shelf above their fireplace with Pledge and settled one of the few pictures of William they had and next to it, one of Emily. Mulder smiled and moved the picture of him and Samantha next to it. “Looking good,” she told him.

“We have a lot of work ahead.”

“Nothing we can’t handle.” She admired their work. “Remember the past as Missy told us.”

He hugged her from behind and rested his chin on the top of her head. “What do you say we make a future, Scully upstairs?”

She smiled and hugged him close. “Love you,” she whispered.

“Now and forever,” he added.

-End.

[chromium7sky]

Damirae week day 2: fake relationship | I'm a sucker (for you)

"You suck, like seriously. "

Jason told Damian as soon as Damian explain the situation that become tangible. Oh how he did wish to turn back time and said NO but... This time,  he said yes. Especially to a girl who seems to come out of nowhere.

But seriously,  he involved in deep shit and know it seems all the media and reporter are trying to smell some scandal from the Wayne Family, especially from him,  the blood son of Bruce Wayne.

"That all you have to say? " Damian raised his brow.

"Well, there's much more of that, Dimwit but I was wondering. Why her?  Just because she has an animal and to specific,  a bird name, you fall head over heels for her? " Jason smirked as he teased the young heir while smoking at the open window.

Damian,  annoyed as always, took the cigarette from Jason's hand and put out it by pressing the lit against the window panel. "Where did you get that stupendous theory?" he sneered at the white streak lad.

"Come on,  Damian. The Bat and co. knows it. Tim,  Barbara, Cass, not to mention Dick and Steph keep screaming when they see both of you together. " Jason shrugged idly with annoying face as he remember the noise Dick and Steph made during their 'Stake out' for the young man.

"It wasn't even a real date!" Damian exclaimed.

"Well by the look of your face at that time, you seems enjoy it. " the red hood huffed as he show the picture where taken.

"You... Dare! " Damian were about to snatched but with Jason quick reflexes he quickly store in his jacket inner pocket.

"So tell me, little D. What is it? "

"It has nothing to do with you. " Damian grumbled as he sending death glare to Jason which the older brother seems to immune with it.

"Yes it does because I would really like to meet a girl who could make a brat fall head over heels for her. " Jason smirked and what he's really impressed is this haughty assassin prince seems to act gentlemen towards her like it was almost natural.

"So,  care to talk? " Jason played the good cop.

Damian sneered at him and lost in the end. "Fine. We talk at the balcony." as he quickly paced towards the area followed by Jason Todd.

As Damian sit at the chair in the middle of the balcony, he put his hands together and close his eyes as he tried to retrieved some information store in big brain of his.

"It was about a criminal I was after, rather a peculiar one. His name is Eric Forrester. I've been trying to track him for months after serial incident happen at rural area nearby Jump city. " As Damian explained.

"And? " Jason with his armed crossed as he listen his story.

"I've found the exact same pattern case nearby. Until.. "

"Until you met Raven? "

Damian silence for a while as the flashback playing on his mind like it was happen yesterday.

####flash back####

"Help me! "

"What?! " Damian were kinda busy at time when a girl suddenly appear as he walked down the street with coffee and bagel on his hands.

"Something happening to my roommate. " The girl mumbled and shivers. She pull his arm and ran towards a flight of stairs and God knows, the girl is really terrified.

As soon as they reached her apartment,  the door were wide open. Damian pulled the girl's wrist behind him incase something bad happen. As they slowly pacing in, they saw the girl's roomates,  blonde with attractive build now facing down and with bluish color skin.

Both of them were horrid and Damian quickly call 911.

*********

"I'm sorry about your friend. " said Damian as he stood besides the girl who is now, hand shaking while holding a cup of tea and space out.

After the interrogation session it seems that the dead girl were died but unnaturally. There's no trauma or force that apply on the corpse.

"Caroline...she has a bright future.  But why... " she cried as she used her sleeves wiping her tears.

"What happen actually?" as the young man sip his coffee, to warm his body in this cold weather.

"I was just gone back from art exhibition party at my college and as soon as I reached my floor. The door were wide open!  I thought,  it was burglary!! But nothing was taken,  and I found my roommate lying on the living room." as the scene still freshly painted in her mind.

Damian sighed as he sip down the black coffee. Well,  he tried to bite down his curiousity,  questioning her alibi and finding evidence because this, this is exactly the same case happen at the Jump city where the woman found dead unexplained in their home.

"I was hoping if you know more about what happen, i mean,  is there anyone your roommate met recently like colleague,  friends?" Damian stared at the blue haired girl.

She took a couple of sip and as if something came up on her mind. "Well,  there is someone she's kinda close in her workplace. I think that was her boss. " the girl rubbing her chin as she refreshed her memories.

"I did  stumbled some flower gift outside of our apartment. " she paused. "and its say from a guy name Forrester. I bet that's his name. "

Damian jolted as soon as he heard the named quickly turn to her. "Forrester?"

"Yeah. Probably a well-known playboy somewhere. His name kind of familiar. " she mumbled.

Damian has found his lead for the case. Quickly he finished his coffee and throw the cup into the paper recycle bin.

"Well,  I hope after this you need to move away from the apartment. I think you might in danger. " Damian turn to her as he advice her.

"I can't. This is the only apartment i could afford. " she cluthes her cup.

"Still,  your life is on the line,  miss." as his stared at her.

"I know. I'll just becareful. " she sighed and throw her empty cup to the recycle bin. "Anyway,  thank you for helping me. " she give out her faint smile.

"By the way,  I'm sorry to be rude for not introducing myself. I'm Damian. " as he held out his hand towards her.

"Raven Roth.  But you can call me Rav-" as she grab his hand she jolted and so as Damian. It was like a surge flowing between them.

What he sees in his mind is something sinister,  a clue,  ANOTHER murder. Quickly he pull of the hands and both of them gasping for air.

"What the hell was THAT?! " he spit out. What he felt is new and mystical, also prophetic.

"You,  felt it too? " her indigo eyes went large as if it was new to her.

"What do you mean you felt it too? " As Damian furrowed his eyebrows wanting some explanation about what happen.

"I--"

"Who the hell are you? " Damian start to feel hostile. His suspicious grew towards this girl name Raven.

"Please do understand me. I didn't cause any harm to anyone." Raven kept her cool face as she held both of her hands as the sign to pacify the current situation.

"I've seen horrible image in mind. Are you -" before he finished his sentence Raven snapped out as she knew what he going to say.

"I'm not what you think it IS! "

Both of them took time to breath in and out calming down themselves.

"What? " Damian still puzzled.

"I had a forecast about what happen to Caroline and rush towards the apartment. " her shaky hands at her sides. "I fail to save her. " again her tears rolled down.

Damian sees her vulnerable and somehow it reminds of him when he tried to save the children from Dr. Pyg in his old case. It's frustrating and guilt.

"Why didn't you tell to the police about that? " he was curious with her ability, this forecast thing.

Raven scoffed as she heard that. "They probably put me in asylum,  Mr. Damian."

"Just call me Damian."

"Damian... " as she corrected her last sentence. "But you saw what I saw just now..." her lips formed a solemn smile. "Its more than enough to prove that I'm not crazy. "

Damian silence as he heard her.

###flash back ends###

"Wait,  wait!"

Damian sneered at Jason.

"I haven't finish yet,  Todd. " Damian grind his teeth in annoyance.

"So,  both of you had the Zap thing and you guys dating each other because of that?! " as Jason try to understand the chronological of the event.

" We are not even dating! Its just a cover!  For her!" Damian sighed as he ruffled his hair.

"You're saying she's not your type? "

"Bullshit!  It was for her safety.  There's a maniac keep harrasing her in the college!"

"So you do like her! "

Damian just can't get with Jason who always on his nerve.

"By the way,  how about the maniac that makes THIS happen? "

"Already take care of it. " Damian crossed his arm.

"You kill him? "

"No. "

"Send him to authority? "

"Worse. "

"A 20 years sentences? "

"I ensured it. "

Jason pursed his lip in approval and nod slightly as he heard it. Don't mess with little D's girl.

A standard ringtone  breaking the silent atmosphere and Damian quickly pull out his phone. He glanced at the scene and answer the phone.

" Any new Forecast?"

Oh, that question made Jason grew excited! Damian were talking to HER! Quickly on his impulse he grab the phone from his little brother.

Damian wanted to protest but Jason quickly put his hand on the angry boy's mouth as he speak to the mysterious girl on the phone.

"Hey,  Raven right? "

At first there's silence but then she saying yeah to confirm her identity.

"Well, this weekend Damian is kinda having dinner at his house, Don't you mind joining in? " Jason casually invited her through the phone. Damian's 'What? ' at the background can be heard the moment Jason said dinner at their house.

"Uh,  I don't know. Who am I speaking to?"

"His Father. " Jason lied. He could hear she gasp on the speaker.

"Sorry to disturb you discussion between you and your son,  Mr..."

"Mr.  Wayne. "

"Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes. " Jason heard the conversation been cut off in a sudden. Jason then seen the screen shows call ended. "She hang up?"

"What did you do?! " Damian quickly snatch his phone back and saw the screen. Then he set his infamous death glare at Todd. "You scared her!! "

Jason amused with his reaction, the spawn of satan really like this girl.

The phone ring again, quickly Damian answer it. "Look, I can explain." Todd quickly at the other side trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Sorry to make you worry,  i was shocked that I dropped my phone. Did I annoyed your father for sudden hang up? " Raven's voice faintly heard.

"That fine.  He just need to go somewhere minding his own business. " Damian sneered at Jason then gesturing his hand to buzz off. "Anyway,  about the Forecast,  i got one about 1 hour earlier. And I could make out the name of the place,  Jackal's Sanctuary."

Damian pull out a pen and write on his palm Jackal's Sanctuary name. "Great. We'll met there within one hour. "

"On it! " Both Raven and Todd answer it. Damian then looked at Todd who has walked toward the door while holding the his phone. He sneered deducing that his brother is up to something.

"Damian,  is your father still there? "

"No...no. He went somewhere else. "  as Damian continue to glare at Jason who has gone inside.

Meanwhile,  Jason text on his phone about Damian meeting the girl at Jackal's Sanctuary on a group chat call The soaring Birds that has Dick, Babs, Steph, Cass, Timbo as active member. Duke tries to stay out of it but of course, Dick won't let any Bat and Co. left behind and sometimes Duke follow their investigation about the girl who Damian said having "fake relationship".

The picture of the group made Jason cringe sometimes. It was a picture of Damian and Raven capture from a far,  with motto written in cursive neon coloured "Make it come true."

[santoteez]

In the Bronx - Hongjoong (3)

Part: 3 of (?)

Part 4 is up NOW! (link doesn’t work, pls use masterlink, sorry!)

Genre: Drugdealer!Hongjoong, Drugdealer! SeonghwaAU, Angst, Eventual Fluff

Word Count: 2k

Requested: no

Warnings: MC is a black female, mentions of drugs, underage drinking, swearing, mentions of sex, Hongjoong’s brother is inspired by Mingi

NOTE: This fic does NOT, in any way, shape, or form, portray the way I view any member of Ateez nor does it depict their true personalities or actions. This AU is just that. An AU.

After standing there for what felt like an eternity, Santana rushed back into the living room, retrieving her clothes. She got dressed and ran out of the house. If she paced herself, she’d make it to the warehouse before the crew spread out to sell. She cursed once approaching the heavily bolted door. Hongjoong never gave her the key. On top of not wanting her that involved with his life, he figured she’d never need it. The statement was almost laughable in this situation.

Resorting to drastic measures, she banged on the door.

“OPEN UP, I GOTTA TALK TO DRAGON!”

“Selling hasn’t started yet. Wait at the usual spots.” A voice said from the other side.

‘Is that Carlos?’ Santana thought to herself. She always saw him walking around the neighborhood with his grandmother. She never imagined he worked for Hongjoong.

“Fool, I ain’t no junkie! I gotta talk to Dragon. Some shit went down with HJ, and ALL y’all cats gotta dip like, yesterday.”

“Who is it?” Santana sighed in relief as she heard Seonghwa speak to Carlos. “Shit. That’s Santana. Move.”

Santana came face to face with the blonde-haired man as the door swung open. Her body shook uncontrollably, and Seonghwa realized immediately what had happened.

He opened his arms. “Come here.”

Santana allowed him to pull her in, and after holding it in, she burst into tears. They stayed that way for a few minutes before pulling apart.

“C’ mon, come inside.” He said.

Once inside, Seonghwa’s voice boomed through the warehouse.

“Everybody listen up! 12’s got HJ. This means we’re hot right now. I need this place packed up and emptied out TONIGHT. Don’t worry about the product you’re cooking. We’ll risk the loss. Right now I need this abandoned warehouse to LOOK abandoned. Get to it.” Everyone immediately started tossing things out, moving plants and bagging what was on the tables.

“Santana, come with me,” Seonghwa said, not looking back to see if she heard him. Luckily, she was right on his tail. They rushed into the office and Seonghwa locked the door. Santana watched from the corner as Seonghwa rummaged the tiny rooms, gathering documents.

“Talk to me, Santana. What did the cops say when they got there.”

“Attempted murder. It was the Coca Twins.”

“Pussies. Both of them. Not once did Hongjoong shoot. He didn’t even take the fucking safety off! Do you know where they took him?”

She shook her head. “The officer that read his rights badge said ‘Bianchi.’ I didn’t get the name of the one that tackled him to the floor.” She answered, her voice quivering.

Seonghwa paused to look up at her. “Santana. I know this is hard. But you’ve gotta be strong. You knew what dating a kingpin entailed when you said yes. Cry it out now if you have to. But when you’re done, wipe your face and keep pushing. Because the sooner we fix shit, the sooner he can be back.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Okay,” He resumed packing. “What else? Did he tell you anything?”

Santana raked her brain. “Go back to where it all started, and that’s where your future begins.”

Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“That’s the last thing he told me. He said to remember it.”

Seonghwa sighed. “Leave it to him to say some cryptic shit like that. I swear he too smart to be a kingpin.”

“You have no idea how much I agree. He also told the cops he acted alone.”

Seonghwa stuffed all the documents into his backpack. “Of course he did. He doesn’t want us both behind bars. C’mon, let’s go get Minjoon. I have his cell phone tracked.”

“Ain’t that shit incriminating?” Santana pointed to his backpack.

“More than incriminating, but with the police sniffing around, it’s safer with me.” He unlocked the door, walking out to the main area, which was already looking clearer than before.

“I am on my way to a side job. For your protection, no one besides Santana follows me. Carlos and Mitch, you will oversee the moving of the materials and equipment. Make sure all of this makes its way to the Castle Hill location before midnight. It’s fairly new but it will have to do. Like always, stay safe, stay together.” He headed to the back door.

“Whatever this side job is, come back in one piece, boss.” Lil Mike, a fairly new member said as Seonghwa approached the door he guarded.

“Don’t worry about me. Make sure you and everyone in here is safe. You may be new, but these your brothers. Have they backs.” Seonghwa opened the door once Lil Mike nodded. “Santana, stay close behind. Step quietly. Step quick.”

They got in the car and sped off down the street and onto the highway. They arrived in Brooklyn in 15 minutes flat, which was understandable considering Seonghwa was swerving and running red lights. They arrive at a brownstone off Chauncey St. The door was forced open by a piece of cardboard wedged into the hinges, and the music was booming.

Seonghwa double-parked the car, and Santana hopped out, walking straight into the apartment.

There were kids making out, smoking and drinking all over. Body shots and beer pong was going on in the far part of the house, and a smoke machine made it hard to see.

“Heyyyy, you’re too old to be in high school!” A girl slurred, approaching Santana.

“I’m looking for Minjoon Kim, you seen him?”

The girl giggled. “I don’t kiss and tell. Aren’t you too old for him anyway?”

Santana rolled her eyes. “Heffa, I don’t have the TIME, nor the ENERGY. It’s either you know where he’s at or not.”

The girl laughed again. “Wait your turn, cougar. He’s worth the wait, I promise.”

“This is getting nowhere,” Seonghwa said, causing Santana to jump. She had no idea he was standing there.

Seonghwa headed straight for the stereo, cutting the music off. Shouts of protest immediately ensued.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Seonghwa said, the room instantly becoming pin quiet. “I’m in here looking for Minjoon Kim. I shouldn’t have to explain who that is. Girls want him, guys wanna be him. Where is he?”

The room remained silent.

“If no one wants to talk, how bout we play a game? It’s called ‘Let’s see if the crazy blonde guy has a gun in his backpack.’ Unless you wanna play, start talking.”

“I saw him stumble out the house a while back.” A voice called out from the crowd.

“Did anyone bother to ask him where he was going?”

“He said he needed some air. He wanted to go home, but his DD got drunk, and his phone died so he couldn’t get an uber, so he was gonna take the bus.” Another voice called out.

Seonghwa smiled. “Now, I’m gonna turn the music back on. And all you little mongrels are gonna forget what I look like or that I was ever here. If not, I’m always willing to play my favorite game. Capiche?” just like that, the music was turned on and attention was taken off of Seonghwa.

“Wow, that was soooo hot. Who are you?” A girl approached Seonghwa on his way out.

“Dragon.”

“Dragon. That name is soooo cool. Maybe I can see you again? You might be a killer but you’re a hot one. My name’s Samantha!”

“Your hair is parted wrong. I can see all your tracks.” He said, causing Samantha to scream, running into the house

Santana burst out laughing. “That was quite the roast.”

He shrugged, smirking. “I guess that’s why they call me Dragon. Let’s go, we’ll just have to check every bus stop in the vicinity. We better hurry before the hour. At that point, he could be on any bus headed anywhere.”

They drove around in circles, checking every bus stop, taxi post, gas station they could find. Suddenly, they saw a boy in a pale-yellow shirt.

“That’s gotta be him!” Santana shouted.

“You’re right, I recognize that shirt.” Seonghwa pulled into a parking spot at the corner of the street. Just then, two men began walking opposite Minjoon. The teen, obviously disoriented, bumped into one.

“Watch the shirt, kid! This here Versace.”

“Oh, my bad.”

“Hollup, you look just like someone I know. Don’t he, Ray-Ray?”

“Yeah! What’s that cat’s name? HJ?”

“What? How- how do you know my brother?”

“Oh shit! This the little brother he been hiding. You’re in for a shitshow, kid. The twins done stung your big bro. Ratted him out. That’s what he gets for dealing with those punks.”

Seonghwa reached out, pulling Minjoon away. “Ray-Ray, Spider. Long-time no see.”

“Aw shit, here comes Dragon to save the day. Always cleaning up after your kingpin. You should’ve got that title, man. He not fit.”

“Yeah, well. That’s not your decision. Let’s go, Youngblood.” He tugged on the boy’s sleeve, jerking him backwards towards the car.

“Is that the Missus back there? Oh, baby, you way too fire to be dealing with HJ. Come find out what a real man feel like. Brooklyn’ll suit you well.” Ray-Ray called out.

“Play with fire, you get burned. Get in the car, MJ.” She opened the passenger door, and the boy stumbled inside. Once Santana was seated, Seonghwa sped off.

“Seonghwa, where’s Hongjoong? How does he know those men? Why do they think he’s a kingpin? You have to tell them they're mistaking him for someone else. Santana, make him tell them.” Minjoon said desperately.

“I’ll explain soon, Youngblood. Right now, I got one more favor to do for your brother. Just take a nap, okay, I’ll wake you up when we’re home.”

“Can you get me Popeyes? I was gonna take the bus, but I got hungry sitting at the bus stop. I remembered seeing a Popeyes on the way to the party, so I tried to find it but I got lost and my phone died.”

“Minjoon, I’ll get you the biggest order Popeyes has ever fucking seen. Just go to sleep, okay?”

The boy nodded, dozing off.

“Where we going, Seonghwa?”

“I think I finally know what HJ’s phrase meant.”

They drove to Cypress Hills Cemetery. Seonghwa turned off the car, leaving the AC on for Minjoon. They got out the car and Seonghwa retrieved a shovel from the trunk.

“I don’t even know why you have that just lying around.” Santana said.

“I wasn’t planning on telling you.” Seonghwa countered. “Let’s go.”

They walked to the top of the hill. Seonghwa suddenly stopped at a tombstone. It had definitely seen better days.

“What are we doing? Who’s buried here?”

“Technically, no one. In theory, your mother-in-law.” Seonghwa said, moving aside to let Santana read the epitaph.

         Kim Ji Woo

         1979-?

“HJ couldn’t move on without burying her, with or without her body. He tried searching for her, but never found any leads. So, he presumed her dead.” He shoved the shovel into the dirt. “Keep watch for me. If this is what I think it is, it should be a shallow dig.”

Santana looked out onto the street as Seonghwa tossed shovelfuls of dirt to the side. Santana turn around when she heard the shovel hit something.

“Found something,” Seonghwa said, using his hands to unbury it all the way.

Pulling at the object, it arose from the ground.

“A baby carrier?” Santana asked confused.

“Not just any carrier. The carrier Minjoon was in when the cops found them. HJ must’ve left it here.”

Seonghwa pulled back the blanket covering the large lump in the carrier, rolls of money peeking out.

“Holy shit, there’s gotta be thousands in there,” Santana said in disbelief.

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose. “This has to be Minjoon’s college money. If HJ wanted us to find this, it means he doesn’t expect to be out by the time Minjoon needs it.”

“So, what are you saying?” Santana asked, terrified of the answer.

“HJ’s gonna confess. He’s gonna turn himself in as kingpin.”    

[regdaran]

The Day Hell Came to Earth. Chapter one: The Shift.

Chapters: | 1 |  |       

Carth had always thought Joan was the laziest of the group, But skipping out on the first day of the new semester was an entirely new level of slacker. The bus pulled into place along the sidewalk. The three of them all boarded and waved their student passes at the driver. Of course Dominic and Hiela had to come along with him. The second he asked Hiela to take extra notes for class, she had grown suspicious. Hiela then in turn asked Dominic to take extra notes for their shared classes, this brought him into the ever continuing domino line. All of which led here, to the three of them trying to find Joan through his cell signal, finding he had boarded a bus at 6:30 in the damn morning, and then the three of them boarding a bus at 8:00 going the same direction.

"And you're sure that he's still right there?"  Dominic poked at Hiela's phone, the display flickering and cutting in and out.

"HEY! Watch what your doing! Ah! What did you do to my phone? Did you break it?"   Hiela was shaking her phone, despite knowing full well that wouldn't stabilize the screen.

"It's not just yours, mines on the fritz too."   Carth picked up his phone and showed the static that was displayed on the screen. All of their phones had been acting strangely for the last few days. According to the message boards on campus, it was caused by some error in the last big software update.

"To answer your question Dominic, I'm not sure. All I know is thats where his phone was the last two times I pinged it."  Hiela was a savant when it came to tech but with their phones problems effectively running interference, she was limited in what she could do. Honestly Carth was amazed that her phone was working at all.

     "What is he even doing at a construction site?"  asked Dominic as he adjusted his coat so he could sit down. The thing was a tall as he was, with so many pockets inside he could hold half his room in there. "I don't know."  Replied Hiela as she straightened her back pack. They weren't going to make it to class today, why in the world did she bring it? "Did he get a job or something? Why didn't he tell us?"  Dominic kept asking question after question. All of which were answered by "I don't know."  or "Why don't you ask HIM that when we get there?"  Carth could feel the rising irritation from the small woman next to him. He decided to intervene before Hiela killed Dominic. "Let's just focus on what we know for sure. We know he asked me to take note for him yesterday, so he had to have planned this. Aside from that, what do we know?"  Carth looked around at his friends, he really hoped that they weren't as clueless as he was. "I heard..." Dominic said. "That place is haunted. Actually, I think Joan is the one who told me about it."  Now that was lead. "He kept sayin somethin' about demons, or maybe it was monsters. Ya know, urban legends and stuff."  Both Carth and Hiela let out a pair of long, suffering sighs. All three of them had dealt with Joan's little obsession before. "What kind of fun does he find in chasing down these rumors anyway?"  

      The bus bounced as it hit something. There was a 'pop' and the driver was having to work hard to make sure that bus didn't tip over. The sound of metal scraping on asphalt was deafening. "HOLD ON!"  the driver yelled as the bus went into the sidewalk. The sound of rending metal and splintering plastics could be heard as it ground into the concrete next to the road. The bus ever so slowly came to a stop halfway off the road. "Shit! Is everyone okay?"  Dominic helped Carth get back to his feet. "What did we hit? A bear trap?"  Hiela dusted herself off and stepped out of the bus. "There she goes again. Come on Dominic."  The pair of friends followed Hiela out of the beached wreck that was once a bus. "Oh God!"  What they saw was horrific, a red smear led from  the bus to a lump of meat and bones. It was about the size of large dog and it was covered in bony protrusions. Carth was walking over to it before he knew what was going on.

"I-Is it dead?"  he heard Dominic ask.

     "I don't know, but I plan to find out. Hiela, call animal control. If this thi-"  Carth didn't finish his sentence for one very important reason. The thing that they hit had started to move. It got up and started to limp toward the bus. It looked even worse moving, like the love child of the chupacabra and a hyena. It was covered in a wrinkly mottled red hide. It was also almost completely bald, except for a stripe of brown fur down the middle of its head. That same head had twin horns pointing Carth. It's eyes fixed on him, and it started charging. "Oh CRAP!"  Halfway through it's charge. Its front legs gave out and it crashed into the ground in front of him. Dominic and Hiela came running beside Carth. Dominic reached into his coat and pulled out a knife of all things. The blade was nearly half a foot long, and one edge was serrated. Just as the thing was getting up again, there was a loud BANG, and its head caved in as the bullet passed through it. Everyone looked behind them to see the bus driver, still holding a handgun. "What? It was obviously rabid, just don't tell the cops that I had this thing alright. I'm getting out of here. They don't pay me enough to deal with crazy animals."  With that the driver and the few other people who were in the bus all walked toward the small building that served as a bus stop.

     "What the hell is this thing?"  Carth was crouched next to the dog like thing. "I don't know, but man is it nasty."  Dominic was poking at its side with his knife. "Are we going to talk about the fact you pulled out a weapon from your coat?"  Hiela was about 5 feet away from the pair of idiots who were messing with the monstrous thing. "Do you mean to tell me, that in that massive bag you take everywhere, you don't carry anything to defend yourself with?"  Dominic sounded absolutely confused. "Well, I have pepper spray."   Hiela said indignantly. Both Carth and Dominic looked at her in a way that said 'really?'. "Carth isn't carrying anything!"  In response Carth reached into his boots and pulled out a pair of 3 inch blades. "You were saying?" Hiela looked away out of embarrassment, she saw the people from the buss sitting down at the stop. "We should probably go, having to wait around for hours answering the police wouldn't be the most productive use of out time." That was something Carth definitely agreed with.  "Hiela, how far away are we from Joan?"  This time she was the one giving a look. "Wha- Oh. You can't be- Fine!"  Carth couldn't believe she was being a stickler on this! "How far are we from his phone?"  Hiela pulled out her phone and started swiping through one of the apps she had on it. "According to this ping, we are about a mile away... guess we should start walking..."  

      20 minutes and a lot of complaining from Dominic later, they arrived at the construction site. A concrete building, nearly four stories high, loomed before the group. There was trash all over the place as they entered. Old bottles of every shape, size, and color, were strewn about. Some had been smashed and sharp glass littered the floor in many places. There were signs that people had been living here, bed rolls and cardboard boxes were gathered in various corners on the first floor. Despite the lack of work done on the inside, the building was nearly finished. Though, the work of years had given the place a worn down feeling. "Hey Carth, why was this place abandoned again? It looks like solid construction, hell it's better than half the stuff on campus."  Carth set down the red stained cloth he had picked up. "I don't know, but I heard it was something about public outrage at where it was being built. I think the city council tore down a church or something to build this place."  Hiela rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a flashlight. Shining it at the two of them, she said. "Are you guys going to spout trivia all day, or are we going to find Joan? Come on, my phone says his phone is up."  With that she made for the stair well. When she opened the door, she was greeted by pile of bones high enough to mostly block the stairs. There where femers, tibia, hips, and skulls. All of which Carth recognised from his Anatomy classes. They were all human bones. There was a long silence before "Jesus Christ!"  came out of Dominic, who then singed the holy cross on his body. "Nope."  Hiela closed the door, turned around, and started for the fire escape that sat on the out side of the building. "Nope. Nu uh. Not today."  She climbed out the broken window next to the stairwell and then reached for the chain that connected to the pull ladder. Carth and Dominic joined her shortly, "Having a bit of trouble there shortstop?"  Hiela hatted being reminded of her height, or lack there of, And both Carth and Dominic knew it. The attempt at a joke seemed to highlight the horror of what they had just seen, instead of distracting from it. Then Dominic, in all his 6 feet of glory, pulled the chain and ladder down with one hand.

   The three of them were climbing the ladders and stairs that comprised the fire escape when they heard a blood curdling scream. Suddenly the whole building shook as an earthquake hit the area. A blast of lightning hit the roof of the building just as they were reaching the top of the final ladder. When any of them could see again, what they saw would stick with them for the rest of their lives. There was tear in the air, light was bending around the edge of it and a red barren landscape could be seen through it. They also saw Joan, holding a long bone dagger. Said dagger was also sticking out of the skull of someone belt over an object on the other side of the roof.

"What the HELL IS GOING ON!"  Yelled Dominic once again.

Joan turned around. "Oh crap! I can explain later. Right now I need your help killing this guy."  

[the-desolated-quill]

Toy Story: Why I Love Chucky - Quill’s Scribbles

Yes! Yes! Yes! I know you’re waiting impatiently for me to continue reviewing Doctor Who and I will get back to it, I promise. But the trailer for Orion Pictures Child’s Play reboot was released yesterday and I want to take a moment to talk about quite possibly one of the weirdest horror franchises ever made.

My long term followers will know that I’m not really a fan of gory horror films due to the fact that I’m a grade A wuss whose backbone went on holiday to Barcelona in 1996 and never returned. However, as squeamish as I am at the sight of blood, I don’t mind gore so much if it’s in a comedic context. It’s why I don’t find the gore in Deadpool frightening. It’s cartoony and over the top, knowingly poking fun at other violent superheroes like Wolverine and the Punisher. The same is true of the Evil Dead films. Yes they’re violent, but there’s also a camp silliness to them that relieves the tension. The Child’s Play franchise is different in that the first three films (the first Child’s Play in particular) are intended to be straightforward horror films. A serial killer transferring his soul into a child’s toy and killing people. And yes, that is really scary... but... it’s a child’s toy.

It was this that allowed me to get into the Child’s Play movies. Yes it’s gory. Yes it’s often frightening. But it’s also downright hilarious.

I mean just listen to the premise. A serial killer called Charles Lee Ray, aka Chucky, uses a voodoo spell he just happens to have learnt to transfer his soul into a doll in order to escape from the cops. Then rather than do something sensible like keep a low profile, he instead chooses to start killing the family who bought him. Then, weirder still, he tries to transfer his soul into Andy Barclay, the boy who owns the doll, and that’s his motive for each subsequent movie because Andy is the first person to learn the secret of Chucky and therefore is the only eligible body Chucky can possess. Oh yeah, and if Chucky doesn’t possess Andy, then the doll will become more human and his soul will be trapped in it forever.

I mean... what can you possibly say to that? It’s so odd and random, it practically borders on self parody. Which is fortunate because that’s EXACTLY what the franchise ends up doing!

After Child’s Play 3, the next two films in the franchise, Bride Of Chucky and Seed Of Chucky, veer heavily into horror comedy territory. We’re introduced to Chucky’s girlfriend Tiffany, played by Jennifer Tilly, who also gets her soul transferred into a doll and the two try to possess the bodies of an eloping couple. Then at one point in the film, the two dolls have sex... somehow... and at the end Tiffany gives birth to a ventriloquist dummy called Glen. 

But wait. That’s just Bride Of Chucky. Seed Of Chucky is even weirder.

So Glen reunites with Chucky and Tiffany in Hollywood and the three of them try to possess, I shit you not, Jennifer Tilly. Yes. The actual Jennifer Tilly. They also kidnap her chauffeur for Chucky and for Glen they need a baby to possess, so Tiffany gets Chucky to masturbate and then inseminates Jennifer Tilly with a turkey baster. 

Oh, and then it turns out Glen has a split personality called Glenda who has inherited all of Chucky’s murderous impulses because this film isn’t weird enough already. The plan completely falls apart however when Chucky refuses to give up being a serial killer in order to raise a family, wanting to now stay as a doll forever, Tiffany dies and Glen kills Chucky. Five years later, Jennifer Tilly gives birth to twins, Glen and Glenda, and she then kills the nanny, revealing that Tiffany managed to transfer her soul into Jennifer’s body after all. So Jennifer Tilly is playing Tiffany playing Jennifer Tilly.

Yes, I know. It’s stupid. It’s crazy. It’s convoluted as fuck. These films make absolutely no sense whatsoever... and I LOVE them!

I know there are die hard Child’s Play fans who really don’t like Bride and Seed, but I personally adore them. They are just so unashamedly daft, it’s hard not to enjoy yourself watching them. I think what helps is that the central premise itself is inherently silly, so it makes sense to dive headfirst into the ridiculous comedy of it all, and Bride and Seed seem to take the Gremlins 2 route of being satires of horror sequels rather than being actual horror sequels. Hell, Chucky basically gives up his quest to find a human body and chooses to stay as a doll simply because it’s a good marketing gimmick. How can you not love that kind of tongue in cheek self awareness?

Bride and Seed are canon by the way. I’m not even joking. The next two movies have narrative ties to them. Tiffany even shows up in Curse Of Chucky, still in Jennifer Tilly’s body, and the writer Don Mancini has said that Glen/Glenda will be coming back too.

After Seed Of Chucky, Child’s Play went the straight to DVD route, but unlike most straight to DVD movies, Curse Of Chucky and Cult Of Chucky were actually surprisingly good. These films go back to the original Child’s Play’s darker horror roots, but manage to maintain the self aware humour of Bride and Seed. They’re not as funny as those films, but they’re still really entertaining and really suspenseful, as well as adding interesting lore to the franchise. In Curse Of Chucky, the family he’s terrorising turn out to have been old friends of his until he killed them and severely injured a heavily pregnant Sarah, which caused the main character Nica to be a paraplegic and is actually the crime Chucky was running away from in the first film before transferring his soul into the doll. After that, in Cult Of Chucky, we see a now grown up Andy Barclay return and we’re introduced to the idea that Chucky somehow managed to transfer his soul into multiple dolls. I haven’t the faintest idea how that works, but it honestly leads to some of the funniest scenes in the movie, so I’m not complaining. It’s also nice to see a horror film set in a mental hospital that doesn’t make mentally ill people the bad guys. Oh and Kyle, Andy’s step sister from the second film, comes back in a post credits scene to torture the original Chucky doll, so that should be interesting.

And that’s the original Child’s Play movies. They’re intense, frightening, silly, farcical and utterly enjoyable. I’m not in any way suggesting they’re groundbreaking movies, but they’re unique in that they’re a real oddity in the slasher genre and have managed to carve a nice little niche for themselves.

In my opinion, two things contribute to Child’s Play’s success. The first is Brad Dourif as Chucky. He’s amazing. A maniacal, charismatic performance that’s both frightening and hysterical in equal measure. Like Robert Englund as Freddy Krueger, Dourif has become intrinsically linked to the character. You can’t imagine anyone else playing him. The second is the franchise’s creator Don Mancini. Unlike the vast majority of horror franchises that are often ripped away from their original creators and become little more than shallow cash cows for movie studios, Don Mancini has managed to keep hold of the rights to Chucky. He has written every single movie and directed Seed, Curse and Cult. He’s like the Doug Naylor of horror movies. He created this franchise, he loves this franchise, he got the franchise through its various rough patches and when he became sick of studio interference, he just went ‘fuck it’ and decided to make his own Chucky films instead. So there is a consistent narrative voice throughout all the films, which is rare not just for horror films, but films in general. Films, especially sequels, are often passed from screenwriter to screenwriter before being approved for production, so to have a franchise authored entirely by one person makes Chucky stand out. It’s what made the bizarre comedy in Bride and Seed feel less alien to the much darker Child’s Play trilogy and the straight to DVD movies. They’re clearly written by the same person and use a similar foundation to build off of. It’s this that also makes the films unique. Franchises, especially horror franchises, tend to grow stale as they end up just rehashing the same material over and over. Child’s Play looked like it was going in that direction, but then Bride Of Chucky came out and the franchise took a complete left turn, taking both the story and the audience in a new direction we weren’t expecting. It’s Don Mancini’s willingness to experiment and try new things and take risks that has allowed the franchise to continue this long and maintained people’s interest. We want to know what happens next. We want to see what the next weird thing is going to be.

Speaking of which...

Yes, not even Chucky could escape from Hollywood’s obsession with rebooting 80′s movies rather than coming up with their own ideas. Yesterday we got our first look at the new Child’s Play movie, which... Yeah.... Looks okay, I guess.... So lets talk about it.

For starters, there’s some confusion as to how this movie even exists. Just to be clear, this film isn’t canon to the original movies and Don Mancini’s version of Chucky is still going to continue. In fact this is the first Chucky film where Mancini isn’t involved, which should tell you everything you need to know about this movie in and of itself. I’ve been looking into how all this works. Apparently MGM hold the rights for Child’s Play, but Mancini holds the rights for Chucky. So Mancini can still make Chucky films. He just can’t call them Child’s Play. And MGM can still make Child’s Play films. They just can’t use all the voodoo magic stuff. (I think that’s how it works. If someone wants to correct me, feel free).

So the new Child’s Play doesn’t have a serial killer trying to transfer his soul into a little boy. Instead we have a rogue AI terrorising a family whose son looks far too old to be playing with dolls anyway. 

This does not feel like Child’s Play... and yet, strangely, it is.

When Mancini first came up with the idea for Chucky, he envisioned it as a satire on commercialism. How the modern world has become obsessed with objects and possessions, using Chucky to represent our own materialist culture attacking us. Obviously that’s not what the films ended up being, but just like how the the Nightmare On Elm Street remake resurrected Wes Craven’s original idea of Freddy Krueger being a paedophile as opposed to a child killer, the Child’s Play reboot seems to be playing around with this idea too. You could argue there is a commentary to be made about how dependant we’ve gotten not just on commercialism, but smart AI as well. And no, I’m not talking Skynet or the Terminator. I’m talking about something on a more intimate scale. In this digital age we live in, nearly everything is connected to the internet. Our TVs, our phones, our computers, our cars, our electricity meters and, yes, even our children’s toys. Giving Chucky power over the wifi, making him representative of our dependency on technology and how much AI has become entrenched into our society, could be a really scary idea to explore and it gives this reboot some real legitimacy.

But here’s the thing. The idea of smart technology running amok as a way of commenting on our over-reliance on it is a great idea for a horror movie in and of itself. But does it really need Chucky? Or are they just using brand recognition to get bums on seats?

Earlier I said that Hollywood prefers to reboot old movies rather than come up with their own ideas. The truth is there are plenty of new ideas in Hollywood. They just don’t want to take a risk on a new IP. So they’ll take an existing brand and tie it into the new idea in the hopes that it’ll get people interested, rather than trusting in both the creative team behind the idea and the audience to go and watch the bloody thing. It’s a really annoying trend that needs to stop. Once upon a time, Chucky was an original idea that someone took a risk on. Now it’s a profitable franchise in its own right and it’s still going strong. The same is true of Star Wars and Harry Potter and many other popular franchises. We can’t keep returning to the same well. If we do, the industry will become stagnant and audiences will eventually get bored. Studios need to take risks in order to find the next Star Wars. The next Harry Potter. The next Chucky.

I’ll still go and see the reboot. Mark Hamill is no Brad Dourif, but he’s an amazing voice actor in his own right and I’m sure he’ll be good in the role. And who knows? Maybe the film will be really good and reinvent the wheel. I just don’t understand why this needs to be associated with Chucky when it’s premise would work just as well, if not better, without him.

Fortunately, regardless of what happens with this reboot, the original Chucky will continue. A TV series is currently in development as well as a sequel to Cult Of Chucky and plans for a crossover with Nightmare On Elm Street tentatively called Child’s Play On Elm Street (I confess I haven’t seen any of the Elm Street films, but having watching the Chucky movies and from what I know of Freddy Krueger, that just seems like a match made in heaven. I can’t wait to see it). Don Mancini will be continuing to write for the franchise for the foreseeable future and I’m excited to see what’s in store for Chucky. It may not be the greatest horror franchise ever made, but it’s definitely the most unique and creative.

[joemuggs]

PERCEPTION OF DOORS

Was reminded by a conversation yesterday about the art of the club door person, and dug this out, which I wrote for the Amsterdam Dance Event annual back in 2014. 

---

If you want a clear view of how clubland operates, why not ask its guardians? The men and women who stand at the doors – whether to take money, pick and choose who gets in, or act as enforcers of rules – are the first and last people clubbers will see in their night out, and are uniquely placed to assess what makes the clubbers themselves tick. They are the interface between club, clubber and promoter, and able to provide a (more-or-less) sober overview of what goes on. But frequently, too, they are the filter: they are the one person more than anyone whom by their choices, defines the nature of the crowd on a given night. As such, they are not just list-tickers, cash-till operators or hired muscle, but are a vital cog in the club's cultural machine, a part of the club's personality. And plenty of them are as big a music lovers as the promoters or DJs too. So from London to New York, Glasgow to Pretoria to L.A., we present the past, present and future of these essential sentinels and unsung heroes of the night.

BIG FRANK

Big Frank, aka Faafaga Samuelu, is a true Los Angeles legend. The imposing Samoan-American was a school friend of underground hip hop DJ/producer Kevin “Daddy Kev” Moo, and they threw parties together from Junior High onwards (“I was the muscle, he was the brain,” laughs Frank; “a perfect combination”). But Frank was also a hardcore gangbanger in his late 1980s / early 90s adolescence: “I remember him showing me a sawed-off shotgun in 8th grade while we were riding the bus to school,” says Kev, nonchalantly. Frank served serious jail time in the late 90s, but when he came out, Kev was there, happy to team up again.

Kev founded the legendary Low End Theory – hub of the psychedelic, electronic “L.A. beat scene” that spawned artists like Flying Lotus, Gaslamp Killer and co – in 2006, but by 2011 it had become so popular, hosting the likes of Thom York and Erykah Badu, that their host venue's bouncers were shaking down clubbers for bribes to get in. This was the moment when Frank's demeanour, reputation and willingness to turn up with an AR-15 assault rifle came into their own, and perhaps unsurprisingly the previous security stepped aside without any trouble to make way for him to take over on LET's Wednesday nights.

Since then, LET's reputation as a friendly spot has only grown. “Being the familiar face of the club,” says Frank, “is great fun and oftentimes just lots of funny. And if you're coming to us, you'll be more comfortable if you feel like you know the guy at the door – and a cool farewell at the end of the night helps as well!” Now in his 40s, he is happy to be a cool head, mainly in the background: “I have different reasons for being in the scene still,” he says; “What's still there is the love for music, but now my desire to be in the crowd is gone. The times of getting fucked up and bumping rap at a back yard party is long gone. What makes me happy, though, is the presence of the forty-somethings and even older folks that attend our club. It helps me feel like our push to progress the music is appreciated. As if all this time in the scene produced something that my generation can be proud of – not just slangin' and gang bangin'.”

JR

In South Africa, house music means more to people than almost anywhere else on earth. And Tebogo “JR” Modiba knows this more than most – his laid-back House 22 parties in Pretoria are an oasis of sophistication and unity in a society still riven with violence and harsh divisions. He ended up working the door there by default: “House 22 started an purely by-invite-only underground deep house joint,” he explains; “so as the founder, I had to work the door in order to overlook the invitations myself. Over time, we have opened up to the general public, but we still keep a close eye on disruptive elements who might not understand and appreciate the underground deep house culture.”

Like all the best doormen, though, he's not just there to filter people out. “The door is the most important part of the business,” he insists. “That's where punters, especially first timers, should start experiencing what the atmosphere of the club is like. All of that depends on how the doorman welcomes them and treat them.” In fact, his biggest problems are cops (“those fellas have serious anger issues, especially when they see people having fun while they are working – and they're the biggest tax collectors too, [taking money] to allow you to operate without interrupting your business with constant inspections, or to protect your patrons from being harassed”) and the weather. One time the mainly-outdoor House 22 venue was hit by tennis ball-sized hailstones, causing a near stampede for cover, which JR was able to only just keep from becoming mass panic.

All his efforts lead to a club where passion for music rules – and so it should, when JR's own love for house still drives everything. At the drop of a hat, he will reel off favourite DJs' names– Vinny Da Vinci, Christos, Glen Lewis, Jimpster, Atjazz, Ralf Gum, Andre Lodemann, Andy Compton & The Rurals, Lars Behrenroth, and Louie Vega – and those of beloved festivals that inspire him like Sónar, ADE and Southport Weekender. And you just know there's no bullshit when he says: “I don't think I am ready to live without my house music, the club life and the people I have met and we became one house music family. Not any time soon.”

JAY CLOTH

London gay scene institution Duckie is more than just a club – as “Purveyors of Progressive Working Class Entertainment”, its team have created a multi-headed beast with art events, talks and exhibitions worldwide. But Duckie's soul resides in its bacchanals every Saturday night at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern, still presided over by the same team that founded it 19 years ago: producer Simon Casson, radically eclectic DJ duo The London Readers Wifes, compere Amy Lamé and “box office artistes” Father Cloth and Jay Cloth. Jay is extraordinarily proud to be on the door - “Duckie is unlike any other London Club and IS gay culture to me,” he says, though cites inspiration from a motley lineage of misfit clubs past like The Bell, Marvellous, Daisy Chain, Lippy and anything involving cabaret monster David Hoyle (née The Divine David).

“I am very proud that Duckie is a very friendly club,” says Jay, “and the team of 'Cloths' that work the door set the tone by being as welcoming as possible to all.” As anyone who's been to the club knows, though, they may be welcoming, but you have to step up to the mark and contribute to the wild energy. Jay will turn away “stag and hen parties, anyone too obviously drunk, too obviously high, anyone rude, anyone wearing fur” and only welcome celebrity guests “as long as they are willing to pay the same as everyone else – we are very egalitarian.” “What makes me really happy,” he says, “is when the mix of people is so extreme I wouldn't want to be anywhere else on earth.” His only fear is that “around 1am some nights when the Wifes announce they are about to play their favourite record of all time, I worry the floor might give in!”

ANGELO FABARA

Anyone who thinks that garish clubwear and superstar DJ culture started with EDM should look back to early 90s New York – which truly was the best of times, and the worst of times. Clubbing was a performance then, with the self-proclaimed Club Kids creating atmospheres so decadent and sights so eye-popping that it could feel like the last days of Rome. The Limelight was the heart of all of this, and bringing some kind of order to the chaos was Angelo Fabara. Angelo was an out-of-towner, drawn as a teenager to NYC's clubs like moth to flame by the “idea of community foremost, but then the escapism it offers to young people to safely experiment with.”

He was soon part of that community. In high school he went to the Limelight every weekend, but after getting into NYU, this quickly switched to going nightly. As a face on the scene, he says, “eventually was asked to promote some nights which led to my being hired as a junior door / guestlist person under the guidance of the more veteran door people at the Limelight. I worked there for about a year and a half after which I worked at Twilo for another year at the height of rave / club music coming to NYC.” New York can be a scary city, and Angelo had to learn fast how to turn away the crazies who might later follow or lay in wait for someone who had offended them: “I worked out I needed to give them a bigger reason they couldn't come in,” he says, “like 'the venue's at capacity', rather than quipping slights at their character which I may have done when I first started.”

As a doorman, though, he didn't just have to keep the badasses out: he had to help create atmosphere. “I let in anyone I knew was a great dancer,” he says, “or had a great look: people who made the dancefloor flourish or were nice eye candy. You also had to educate people who came to the clubs to make an effort because everyone else was taking the time to look impeccably chic or coming up with a look that just added to the design and visual language of the scene at that time. If you were a suit, I wouldn't let you in, if you came as a group of guys I wouldn't let you in, if you didn't look the part you would have a harder time at the door. Much later in life, I compare it to Walt Disney who always started his stories off by making his characters literally step through a door into a fantasy world, transported to another place. I wanted to be that person that showed you through that door.”

The scene famously turned bad. “A lot of people died from drugs,” recalls Angelo sadly. “Heroin became big in the 90s, and Michael Alig murdered his club kid friend Angel, which ended the reign of Peter Gatien's clubs like USA, Palladium, Limelight, Tunnel which were the best clubs in NYC history, places with a creativity you just don't see nowadays.” Angelo stepped away from the scene, moving into culture reporting with Microsoft's 'Sidewalk' site – but he never lost his love for what had first inspired him as a kid. “I still think about how easily I made friends on the dancefloor and how so many of us are still friends today 22 years later.”

BOB WONG

Glasgow is one of the most beloved, yet notorious, clubbing centres of the world, known for the utter lunacy, in both the good and bad senses, of its crowds. So it's nice to know that its scene has a calm centre in the affable and unflappable Bob Wong, the head of security (“I prefer 'doorman' or 'steward' but that confuses people, so I usually end up saying 'bouncer',” he laughs) at the Glasgow School Of Art – a venue that has hosted everything from the most manaical techno to the heaviest dub to avant garde noise events.

Bob is a true lover of and participant in Glasgow's underground scene – indeed, in researching this article, his was the first name mentioned by every Glaswegian we spoke to. “Scots know how to party!” he says simply as explanation of why he loves the scene. “You can't beat seeing likeminded people – people of all ages, race, colour, sexuality, social background etc etc etc – switch off from their daily grind of the working week and completely lose themselves, intoxicated with their poison of choice, in the music they love and really go for it on the dancefloor.”

This no-nonsense attitude and affection for the crowds runs through everything he does. “I, and the rest of my team are there to ensure the punters have a great night, and more importantly a safe one: safe from themselves and each other when they inevitably get carried away.” And to do this he insists on a friendly culture: “I hated working with macho 'bouncers',” he continues, “who could only brag about how many fights they'd won or how many girls they've slept with – so when I finally became head steward, I made a point of having only people with a similar mindset to mine on the team, and it makes a difference to everyone.”

Has he ever been scared, surrounded by punters when they “inevitably get carried away”? “You're probably expecting a mad story here,” he smiles, “about some kinda riot or a scenario where I've been stabbed or shot at – but no... if I ever get into a situation where I'm in a fight where my life is being seriously threatened then I can honestly say I'll have failed at my job. My scariest moments have to be the occasions where drunken punters have thought it was a great idea to slide down the banister of the stairs from the cloakroom on the top floor of the Artschool – a 4 level building – and have fallen over the edge and down between the flights of stairs... Thankfully no-one ever fell past the next floor but, all the same, hearing the thud and seeing them hit the floor you automatically assume the worst when they go limp and unresponsive! Thankfully and surprisingly there have never been any fatalities in my time (don't jinx it Bob haha!), just a few fractured vertebrae...”

[taesbetch]

02|Murderous;

Pairings: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst Murder!AU

Summary: People can be deceiving; People lie every day. When murder is the new talk of the town and everyone seems like a suspect; the truth seems to slip further and further away every second. Everyones on edge, as they should be. Wrong things happen when you trust the wrong people.

Word Count: 7.1k +

Previous | Next 

Your ear was pressed to the door of your dad's bedroom as he spoke to his colleagues about what happened yesterday. There was a cold cover that hugged the door tightly, but your ear could handle it as the information you were receiving was worth it.

"His throat was cut so precisely, we're definitely dealing with someone who knows what they're doing" you heard him say.

Someone with experience? Like a doctor or a biology major maybe?

"Do you think it's the same killer?" He asked the other person, his voice low and concerned.

You listened to him hum in agreement before he sighed deeply.

"Alright, I'll call you later" you heard him say before you heard the clicking of the call ending. Hearing another sigh escape his lips you awaited patiently for what he would do next.

A couple shuffles and a few squeaks sent your body racing with adrenaline. He was moving. You quickly ran back into your room and as you flung yourself into your rollie chair you flicked your books open to make it look like you were studying.

"Hey kiddo, I'm heading down to the station real quick ok?" He stated as he leaned against the door frame, His eyes were droopy and the purple bags under his eyes were evident. This case was probably killing him and the police force, the town is slowly gaining interest and the negative coverage wouldn't reflect well on the police force.

It was night time so you were close to insisting that he leave it and get some rest, but you knew he wouldn’t agree to any of that.

"Y/N" he said as his eyes narrowed in your direction.

"Mm"

"Be careful, okay, I don't think that taehyung kid did it either...but just be cautious?" he said causing you to nod along before he stared at you for a moment and turned back around to leave

As he left the house you sighed deeply, resting your arms behind your head you sat back and had a little recap of previous events.

So, the first victim was daehyun...the killer would have had to be someone she knew.

And with this second killing, it would have to be someone who knew what they were doing.

So lower high school students are out, maybe just graduated and older... that still leaves a bunch of suspect groups you would have to search through.

You decided your brain needed some fresh air, stepping outside you noticed how dead the street was, it was only 10pm but the people who lived around you were mostly elderly, so you would expect nothing less.

As you zipped up your hoodie you weren't really paying attention to the cold that was nipping at your nose, More the eerie vibe that coated the neighbourhood.

You could literally hear yourself breathing and the small noises of crickets. It hadn’t concerned you before but after remembering there was a murderer on the loose your heart beat started to speed up.

Before you could decide to turn around the sound of screams of horror and sirens captured your attention. Your body was almost frozen in place as your brain thought about what to do.

Turn around Y/N...go home....

AH fuck it.

running towards the sudden sounds of distress, you of course knew it was a free pass to get killed but the thought that you could help someone overcame the fear of it.

Your heart pounded loudly as you cut through an alley way to enter a short cut. The cold that had once nipped at your skin was now abusing it.

The back entrance was narrow and dark, but you could see well enough to know where you were going. You could hear your footsteps hitting the ground hard as you run.

As you heart pounded against your chest you took a brief break, so you could catch your breath. However, you could still hear the sound of running footsteps.... you weren’t alone.

You freaked out for a moment as you realised the sound of footsteps was coming towards the front of you. The person was running away from the commotion.

You were about to turn around but hearing how close they were you knew it was too late. You pressed your back against the wall waiting for the person to run around the corner.

Hearing the way your heart beat sped up you tried to cover your mouth to control your heavy breathing. Your eyes flew to ground and flickered up and down constantly, wondering if the first thing you would see would be their foot or their arm.

As you saw a foot enter from behind the wall you closed your eyes and threw a hard punch in the direction of the stranger.

"Y/N!" The stranger yelled as he caught the flying fist.

Opening your eye’s, you saw Jeon Jungkook.

His eyes were wide his breathing was staggered and all colour had been drained from his face. As your first swivelled in his hands you realised they were wet.

As your eyes scanned down his body you realised he was covered in blood.

You pulled your fist back quickly as you stepped back from the boy.

"W-what happened?" You asked softly as you fully took in his state. He was a shaking mess, he kept looking behind him and big blots of purple were forming on his face.

"You need to help me, please" he begged as he pushed you backward lightly his head turning around constantly in fear that if he waited a second longer whoever he was running from would get him.

He shuffled his feet getting ready to run again as he looked at you for approval.

You hesitated but eventually nodded your head as you realised now was not the time to think things through, you had to leave right this second. He grabbed your arm before sprinting back the way you came.

"what happened?!" You asked as the both of you were full on sprinting down the street. The stinging of your feet was pushed aside as the fear of possible death kept them going.

As the two of you approached your house you chucked him the keys and you both ran inside.

"You have 5 minutes to explain what the fuck is happening because I’m freaking out" you said as you tried to catch your breath.

You flicked on the light and locked the door as Jungkook paced back and forth.

"My whole family....M-my whole family...he killed them all" he stated his eyes grew wider and his hands shook vigorously.

"What?! Jungkook why did you run! You realise you can be cast as a suspect now!" You told the freaked boy as you started freaking out more and more as time passed.

"I was the one who called the police! I had to run because he found me hiding in the closet! I only had enough time to get him off me and run!" He yelled at you as tears were making their way down his face.

Staring at the panicked boy you took a deep breath as you raked your brain for a solution.

"Okay, that's okay, I’m calling my dad" you said as you brought out your phone, frantically searching through your contacts list for your dad’s number.

-----------------------

"Explain what happened" your dad said as the three of you were sitting in the lounge; you and Jungkook were sitting on the couch and your dad was in front of you on the table.

"I had just come back from Yugeoms house, the door was open which was weird for that time of the night...when....when I opened the door I had found my two sisters on the floor...the-they were dead...I heard screaming from upstairs so that's when i hid in the closet and started calling the police but he found me...i swear...it was like looking in the eyes of the devil...we got in a physical fight, he was taller and stronger than me... i had crashed something over his head and it worked enough for me to get him off me and run" he explained as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"We're going to need you to evaluate the crime scene to see if anything is out of place, we're going to need to call yugyeom and confirm your alibi, the door shows signs of forced entry so were also just going to need a list of people that may have hated your folks " your dad said emotionless as he scribbled in his notebook.

"Dad" you said softly as you watched Jungkook stare at the floor in shock.

We personally knew Jungkook. The boy has been home schooled all his life, so he would walk around the neighbourhood looking for friends.

"I’m sorry son, i was in cop mode" you dad sighed as he put his notepad to the side.

"You don't have to go back if you don't want to" he added as he patted Jungkook’s shoulder.

"I'll go...but...what’s going to happen to me?" Jungkook asked as he looked upwards to meet his gaze with your dads.

"You can stay with Y/N and I for now alright?" Your dad asked as Jungkook continued to shake.

"Thank you" he whispered as you placed your hand over his.

----------------------------

As we walked towards Jungkook’s house the number of cops in the area was insane.

You could feel the aurora of the house radiating through the streets.

Jungkook clutched you hand tightly, the blood was still present, but you ignored it as the three of you approached the house.

"Are you sure you want to do this" you whispered to him as you stopped following your dad up the stairs for a second.

"Positive" he nodded before motioning for you to keep moving as you were in front of him.

The feeling of vomit climbed your throat, as soon as you enter the house you saw his older sisters.

The first one was face down on the ground, multiple stab wounds were dug into her back, her blood was splattered all over the walls in the same manner in was splattered all over Jungkook.

Some of her hair had been pulled out, it lay beside her body, half dipped in the pool of blood oozing out of her.

The second sister was ten times worse. Her left arm had been removed from its socket, the only thing connecting it was a string of skin.

Shivers spilled down your spine as you saw the gaping hole in the middle of her head.

"This requires crazy force...the murderer must have been extremely angry" your dad noted quietly.

"Do you see anything?" I asked him as he tried not to cry again.

He looked around the room getting ready to shake his head, but something had caught his eye.

"It's gone" he whispered

"What’s gone?" You asked as your dad tuned into your conversation.

"My sisters boyfrie- well not even really a boyfriend more like a constant stalker, he bought her a painting that mum liked so she hung it up...but it’s gone" he explained as he stared at the space on the wall.

"Your sister was 18, right?" Your dad asked as he ferociously wrote things down.

Before you could ask why Jungkook pointed outside. "Why is he here".

You looked outside to see a man in his early 20s staring into the house.

His hood was zipped up and placed over his head. His hands found their way into his pocket before eventually, he walked away, his tall and lanky figure causing you to squint in suspicion.

"Who was that?" Your dad asked quietly before Jungkook turned back around.

"The boyfriend i was talking about"

--------------------------------

For the rest of the night, you tossed and turned around in your bed trying to think of why the whole family was killed.

The boyfriend would make sense.

Either he was annoying the girl too much, she told him to go away and he killed her and her family out of vengeance.

Maybe the family didn't approve of the relationship, so he killed all them out of vengeance.

Could have been she was in love with someone else he didn't like that, and the rest of the family just happened to be there.

You sighed before staring at your ceiling, maybe it was the same guy who killed daehyun, at least you'd finally have a suspect to get the town of taehyung’s back...

But no... the way of killing was too different. Daehyuns was clean, planned precisely...this one seems like a passionate killing, the murderer truly had something against his victims.

The  boy in the music rooms was similar to Daehyuns…no idea what the motive was but still…

Jungkook didn't want to see his parents, understandable so...especially seeing how the killer killed his sisters...

There was a quiet knock on your door before Jungkook poked his head through the door.

"Hey, can I come in?" He asked sheepishly.

"Sure" you said as you shimmed over, giving him room to lie down.

"I’m sorry, I tried going to your dad's room, but he snores" he said as he wrapped the cover around himself.

You let out a chuckle as you nodded your head.

You had been friends with Jungkook for approximately 12 years, you weren't close friends, but you knew him well enough.

"I still don’t know what’s going to happen to me...i usually go to my sister for stuff like this...she always knew what to do" he whispered

"Don't think about it, we'll figure something out" you said as your eyes drifted shut.

Thank god it's a Saturday tomorrow...  --------------------- "I didn't know you were allowed boys in your bed"

You groaned as your body told you to go back to sleep, but the talking voices kept your brain active.

You turned around to see Taehyung and Hana staring into your soul as a sleepy Jungkook started waking up.

"Hush ok, it's a long story" you said as you sat up in your bed, stretching your arms.

"Yer well ya know what else is long" Hana said as she wiped out her destroyer.

(A/n:.....yall are nasty)

"This fucking essay, so wake up and let's get going" she said before storming out of your room.

Taehyung eyed Jungkook suspiciously before walking out to join Hana downstairs.

"Your friends?" Jungkook asked as you got out of bed, his hair tossed and eyes droopy.

"Is that what they're called?" You asked as you slipped on a jumper.

"I'm going back to bed" he said smashing his face into your pillow. You laughed before heading out, closing the door behind you.

As you strolled downstairs you watched as the two of them were whispering intensely on the couch.

"What the fuck are you guys doing" you said as you joined them on the couch.

"Were figuring out how to connect Daehyuns murder on this new murder suspect" Hana stated as she turned on the T.V

"The murder of the Jeon family has a prime suspect known as Kim Namjoon, the man had been stalking the youngest female in the family; sending her threatening texts and explicit images. The man was known to be in contact with various teens and is a suspected drug dealer. There are no further updates"

Damn this town moves quick.

"He was in contact with various teens...one of which could be daehyun?" Hana suggested. You nodded along with them, it was a good plan...there was just one problem.

"As far as we know, as far as anyone knows daehyun was an extremely clean-cut girl. She only did things with people that she trusted and even that was a stretch...but if they had been in contact for a while..." you trailed off as the both of them nodded along.

"If we just had her phone, ya know to figure out what kind of conversations she was having with people. This would be so much easier" Taehyung said.

"...i think we can get it..." you said as a really bad idea popped into your mind. As you pondered the idea more youwatched as taehyung and hana watched you attentively, hoping to get the answer out of you.

"Don’t ask...Hana, ask her friend for some more information. Taehyung I’m going to need your help" you stated as you scooted closer.

Before you could reveal your plan, you heard the door of your bedroom open and close.As Jungkook trotted downstairs Hana flipped open her books and Taehyung place a pencil in his mouth as if he was thinking.

"Hey guys" Jungkook said scratching the back of his head nervously.

You knew Jungkook was shy around people he didn't know; the boy was home schooled after all.

"Hey Jungkook! This is Hana and taehyung" you said introducing the as the three of you made space between you and Hana.

"Hi...sorry for your loss" Hana said hesitantly as he sat down.

He nodded his head unsure of what to say. A silence set itself over the four of you.

You leaned back and locked eyes with taehyung on the other end of the couch, motioning for him to turn the TV on. He quickly understood your hints and turned it on. Of course, we forgot that we had previously been watching the news channel.

"The suspect for the Jeon murdering has gone on the run-"

Taehyung quickly changed the channel, but the awkward tension was hard to avoid. You bite you lip as the cringe was hard to ignore.

"I... think I’m just going to go back to bed" Jungkook said slowly as he rose from the couch.

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. Fuck…the poor kid.

"I'll come up with some food later" you said softly but he just shook his head and dragged himself back upstairs.

The three of you gave each other guilty glances before returning your attention to the T. V -------------------------------- It had been a good 2 hours and Hana had left. She said she was invited to a frat party and was going to use the invite to find out some more information.

"Hey, can you show me some of your brother's shoes, you said they might fit?" Taehyung asked randomly.

You nodded your head before the two of you skipped upstairs.

As you made your way up the last couple of steps you stopped in your tracks as you heard a rustling of paper coming from you dad’s office.

You and taehyung connected confused gazes before the two of you slowly approached the office. As you quietly pushed open the door you were met with Jungkook’s back, his hands were deep inside your dad's case cabinet.

"Aye" Taehyung said in a low voice.

The boy jumped in a fright before turning around to face us.

There was a brief moment of silence as he tried to find the words to say. The both of you glaring down on him with questionable looks.

"I... I’m sorry...it's just, the news said he had run away and I know there are other cases on him...so I just thought I could find something" he said sadly as he played with his hands.

Your hardened expression softened as you nodded your head in understanding.

Taehyungs eyes narrowed before he spoke. "Don't you think you should leave that to the police".

Like we can talk.

Jungkook nodded before he cleared his throat nervously. "I think I’ll just go for a walk" he said as he moved past the pair of you.

Before you could follow behind Jungkook taehyung stopped you; you looked at him confused but you knew he would explain once the boy left.

"I'll see you tonight!" you shouted downstairs to Jungkook.

"okay! I'll bring you some food!" he shouted back, you heard the door close and looked towards taehyung.

"I don't like him" he stated suddenly "something about him...ugh it just seems like he's faking it" taehyung stated as you leaned against the door frame.

"well, of course, he's faking it. his whole family just got murdered, he probably doesn't want to be breaking down crying every 2 seconds" you explained as you rolled your eyes.

"no Y/N, I mean...I don’t know what I mean, there's just something off with that kid and i don’t like him" he hesitated.

"taehyung, I've known him for 12 years, he's a little off putting at times yes I’ll admit and i know he genuinely has some type of mental illness but i also know he's on medication" you stated.

"illness?" taehyung asked intrigued.

"yer when he was 10ish he was diagnosed with a mental illness...I can't remember which one, but I know he's on medication and its fine" you shrugged.

taehyung was quiet for a moment before nodding his head "alright, fair enough, if you don't think anything’s wrong..." he trailed off before sighing.

"anyway, stop focusing on him and focus on yourself. Lisa’s having a mini party at her house tonight and I think you should go, even if it’s just for an hour" you stated as he started to whine at the mention of Lisa.

"she's so happy, so happy! like all the time, Y/N don't make me do it" he pleaded as he took your hand into his.

"to bad, you're going. And try and initiate some physical contact, like a hug or something" you said as you thought more about how to up taehyung’s image as a genuinely good person.

"her parents might be there! even better" you said as you nodded your head at the prime opportunity in front of you.

Taehyung groaned and continued to beg but you both knew it would be good for him, especially compared to a runaway suspect.

There had been two more murders in the time frame of 3 days. The town had shifted its accusations off of taehyung and towards Namjoon; the runaway suspect.

Jungkook was packing his stuff up and getting ready to move in with his grandma, he was a little reluctant at first, but it was this or his aunt in Mexico and he hated her.

You were currently in the library trying to study for your upcoming Physics test, but it was a little hard with Lisa hardcore trying to stick her tongue down taehyung’s mouth.

"Hey" lucifer said as he seated himself beside you.

"Hey, do you think you could help me, I don’t understand...like...anything" you said as you slid him your book.

"This is why i told you to do biology, its way easier," he said as he shook his head.

"Look ok, not everyone is a science wiz like you, you do all three! Biology, physics and chemistry!" You whined which caught taehyung attention.

He turned his body fully in your direction, blocking Lisa out of the conversation.

"What’s she complaining about this time?" He asked causing Lucifer to chuckle.

"Go back to your girlfriend" you sneered causing him to smirk smugly.

"Why, you jealous?" He asked.

"I’m your girlfriend?"

There was a pause of silence before all three of you turned to the hopeful girl.

"No" you all said in unison.  ------------------------------ You knew the town would rejoice at the fact they think they know who the killer of all these people are, but you know you have two different killers on your hand.

As you reorganized your locker your head went back into thinking mode.

The killings that have happened recently have all been older woman during school time.

And the killings before were high school students after school time.

The killings as of recent would be understandable if it were Namjoon...but still, there's pieces missing and pieces that seem like they are being forced to fit.

"Hey, you're gonna wanna see this..." Hana said quietly as she dragged me away.

Yesterday you had given Hana Daehyuns phone; she’s really good with all that tech shit that no one really understands.

"What, what’s up?" I asked worriedly as she dragged me into a classroom and locked the door.

"Look, at the messages between Jimin and daehyun" she said as she scrolled through their chat.

'Am i meeting you tonight?'

'What time do i meet you there?'

'Remember not to tell anyone about this okay?'

You stood there shocked as you scrolled through the messages sent from Jimin. You didn't even know the two of them knew each other well enough to actually talk let alone have secret meetings.

"But...it doesn’t make any sense, when was it sent?" you asked as you tried to connect the dots between Jimin and the killing of daehyun.

Hana paused for a second before taking a short breath "twenty minutes before the apparent murder time" she said.

"Go back, let me see who else she’s talking too" you said as you scooted closer to your friend, it didn’t make sense to you why Jimin would kill her but then again you only just found out they even spoke to each other.

"There was one person that confused me. They were nicknamed as God of destruction like that could be anyone, these were sent the day of the killing" Hana said in frustration as she showed me their messages.

'I think I’m in love with you'

'Stop meeting that Jimin boy, I’ve been watching you'

'You can’t hide from me'

"Could this be the runaway suspect?" Hana asked as you scrolled some more.

"It’s possible, really possible actually" you said as Hana tucked the phone back in her pocket.

"Where is Jimin now that I think about it?" You questioned as you remembered him rushing off in a hurry.

"I don't know...he hasn't been here for a while" Hana stated as the two of you exchanged looks.

"Find him okay, I’ll find out more about Namjoon from Jungkook" you stated as you watched more students fill the hallway.

You nodded before going your separate ways.

As you rushed down the school stairs to go home, you tried your best to avoid the talkative students who you knew would try and talk to you.

"Hey Y/N wait up!"

Fuck. You knew that voice all too well.

As you stopped in your tracks, you turned to face up the stairs you had just ran down to see angel skipping down to you.

"Ah, Angel...what’s up?" You said trying to be as nice as possible.

"I just haven't seen you around lately! I was just wondering if there was something going on?...like a secret club that i wasn't invited to" she asked quietly as she looked around.

...what.

"Sorry what?" You asked in utter confusion as she twirled her hair.

"All of you keep going missing! First Lucifer stops hanging out with me and goes who knows where, then Hoseok keeps ditching me for that home-schooled kid, now you’re going missing. Plus, just yesterday I saw that sin of a human being Jimin sneaking around the abandoned factory yesterda-" she said but something caught your ears.

"Sorry what? What was Jimin doing?" You asked curiously as she continued curling her hair.

"Oh, yesterday i saw him walking around suspiciously so i decided to follow him. Not the first time this has happened but anyway-" she started but you interrupted her.

"Not the first time? When else has this happened?" You asked intensely.

"Like...three weeks ago maybe? I’m not sure" she stated as she scratched her head.

"Where a bout’s was this?" You asked her with the same intensity.

"You know the abandoned factory next to the primary school...odd place for a school but yer he was there...why? Is there actually a secret club?! Can I join!? Of course, it would have to be after my volunteering at the chur-"

"Yep! There’s a meeting on Monday at subway! Be there or be square!" You chirped loudly before rushing away from her.

Three weeks ago,...that’s around the time daehyun was killed...and so were those text messages.

But why would he have killed her? What was their relationship?

You knew Jimin would have been able to overpower her, he maybe be shorter than others but his previous fights at school confirm his strength.

As you ran home different theories and thoughts flowed through your mind.

Firstly, you know for a fact the killings that have been happening lately are different from the first one.

They're messier, more passionate. The first killer was clean, every move was almost planned...

You still had no idea why the boy in the lower grade was killed but you figured it would come to light if Daehyuns was figured out.

Secondly, Kim Namjoon, otherwise known as the runaway suspect was in possible contact with daehyun. Again, this wasn’t confirmed, who knew how many stalkers you had in this town.

Thirdly, Jungkook’s whole family had been murdered by this guy, would he come back to finish the job?

And lastly, you would not be meeting angel at subway on Monday.

As you ran through your door, you ignored the fact that Lisa was straddling taehyung’s lap on your couch and ran straight up stairs to Jungkook.

all his shit from his house had been transferred to yours and with the amount of shit he had, you knew he'd still be packing.

"Hey Y/N" he smiled as he taped his final box.

Sweat covered his forehead as the light glistened over it, giving him a sparkly overcoat over his entire body.

"Hey, are you done packing?" You asked as you tried to catch your breath.

He nodded before standing up and making his way over to you.

"Have you been running?" He asked as a cheeky smile graced his face.

"Er yer, anyway...are you sure you’re alright going to your grandmas? Like...I’m sure my dad wouldn’t mind you staying a bit longer and, its...probably safer...over here" you tried to say subtly.

However, your attempt failed as Jungkook quickly picked up what you were trying to say.

"Don’t worry about it, he'd be stupid to come back" Jungkook stated as wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his palm.

"Mmm okay, only if you're sure..." you said hesitantly.

He chuckled before abruptly stopping when his eyes connected with something behind you.

As you turned around taehyung let out a grunt before extending his hand out to Jungkook.

Both you and Jungkook looked at taehyung in confusion before he spoke.

"Good luck" he said quietly as his eyes were glued to jungkooks face.

Jungkook smiled brightly before shaking hands with him.

"Why is lisa here?"  "Dont worry about it"

---------------------

As you and taehyung helped Jungkook pack his boxes into the removal van you felt a strange vibe... almost as if someone was watching you.

You looked around slowly; the green bushes in the neighbour’s yard started to rustle but you brushed it off thinking it was the wind.

"Tell your dad i said thank you" Jungkook smiled before pulling you into a hug.

"I will...but i just have one question before you go" you asked slowly as you both pulled away.

He nodded his head signalling you to ask it.

"Do you know if Kim Namjoon had a nickname in your sister's phone? Or one you maybe just heard before?" You asked curiously.

Jungkook furrowed his brow as he thought hard about it.

"I think...i mean I’ve only seen it pop up a couple of times so I’m not sure...but I think it was like destruction something" he said as he scratched his head in deep thought.

You heart skipped a beat before you corrected his mistake.

"Do you mean...God of destruction?" You asked slowly.

"Yer that’s it!" He said as his face lit up with recognition.

You paused for a moment before continuing your goodbye.

"I hope everything goes good for you" you said sweetly as you watched the boy breathe in happily.

"You too Y/N" he nodded before getting in the van, ready to drive off.

You sighed before walking back into the house.

"Is he gone?" Taehyung asked as he raided your fridge for food.

"Yer...why was lisa here earlier? And what were you doing?" You asked as you stood behind him, his back turned to you as he picked up various items from the fridge.

"Theres no need to be jealous" he smirked as he turned to face you.

Rolled your eyes as you rested against the counter behind you.

"Why would i be jealous?" You scoffed as you folded your arms; His smirk grew as he walked closer to you.

"Awww, you know your my one and only" he teased before tapping your nose.

"Lisa asked if she could come and do her homework with me, and like hell I’d take her back to my place. I don't know how she ended up on my lap, but honestly i didn't mind" he said before sending a wink your way.

You fake vomited as his arms came around you, trapping you against the counter.

"Mmm wait until she finds out what a phony you are" you said as you poked his stomach.

"Oh well, at least I’m getting information out of her" he shrugged as his eyes bored into yours.

"Like?"

"That guy, the runaway suspect. Was really into teenage girls, he gives them fake IDs and stuff like sexual favours" he stated as he removed his arms from the counter.

"He also was very attracted to how you say....the innocent ones" taehyung said hoping you would catch on.

"Daehyun" you stated as he nodded in confirmation.

Before you could ask him any questions your phone started ringing.

"Its Jimin, he’s being all suspicious, meet me at the cafe near my dad's work. Hurry" Hana said as she breathed harshly.

"We gotta go" you said quickly Hana hung up the phone.

----------------------------------

As the two of you of you ran towards the small coffee shop you watched as the sun started to set and people started to clear out from the streets.

"Where is he?" You huffed as Hana’s eyes were glued in one direction. The hospital

"Why is he in the hospital?" Taehyung asked in confusion as the three of you stared down the hospital doors.

As you questioned it too, a figure dressed fully in black snuck out holding a beige file holder in their hand.

"That’s him!!" Hana whisper-shouted as you watched him walk at an incredible sped down the street.

"Quick follow him!" You said as the three of you split up, trying to find subtle ways to follow him.

You followed Jimin for seemed like a solid hour until you reached the destination; The abandoned factory.

"Do we go in?" Hana asked quietly as you watched him sneak inside, his body was tensed and every moved he made seemed to have a purpose.

"I think we should" taehyung stated as he looked around for any other followers, aka angel.

The three of you quietly snuck into the abandoned building, you headed in first than taehyung, then Hana.

It was incredibly dark but a gleaming light snuck its way around a corner, so you guessed that’s where Jimin was.

You slowly approached the light as soft murmurs could be heard.

As you peeked your head behind the wall, you saw Jimin standing in front of what seemed like boards of evidence and theories. In shock, you slowly walked towards him, your mouth was hung open as you examined then.

Suspects such as Namjoon and Daehyuns best friend were placed on the board, even taehyung was there.

"Jimin" Hana called firmly yet shock still evident in her voice.

Jimin quickly turned around, his eyes scanned all of our faces before he slowly removed his hoodie from his head.

"What are you guys doing here?" He asked in discomfort as his eyes wandered the floor, his amrs went up to hide the boards but after realising it was no use he gave up.

"It’s hella complicated, but it has something with that" taehyung said as he pointed to the stuff behind Jimin.

Jimin looked behind him before turning towards the group again. "You guys are trying to figure out the murders too?" He asked as he eyed you.

"Well at first it was to clear Taes name...but now I think it’s more than that" you said scratching your head.

"We actually...thought you could be a possible suspect...we saw the text messages the night daehyun asked...what happened?" Hana asked as Jimin stuck his hands in his pockets.

Jimin sighed before dipping his head down to the ground. "She was actually my best friend..." he whispered.

"Being gay isn't an easy thing, especially when your parents are hardcore Christians and bitches like angel are running around" he started.

"Daehyun was my excuse, i would tell my parents i was going studying with daehyun, or I’m going to hang out with her but...id be doing other things if you get what i mean" he explained.

You nodded you head as dots started connecting.

"Why did you run out of class so quickly that one time?" Hana asked softly.

"I remember daehyun telling me about this guy she was meeting, he was older than her and richer than her...but she would never tell me who. She had told me when and where they were meeting so i was hoping to catch him...ya know maybe he was the murderer" He answered quickly.

"Namjoon? Was she going to meet Namjoon?" You asked as interest peeked.

"No, she told me about Namjoon, she would say his name, but this one..." he said before pointing towards a picture with a question mark on it.

"She never said his name" he said in frustration.

Hana grunted before running her hands through her hair.

"Looks like daehyun wasn’t as innocent as everyone thought...does this our suspect range rises?" She asks nervously.

You nodded as your eyes stayed connected with the question marked photo.

I guess Jimin’s not the killer...

Before you left you took down Jimin’s number and set a time for you all to meet up so you could discuss everything you had found and re-group.

----- it had been a long fucking day it was around midnight and as you dragged your body up your driveway you regretted a lot of life decisions…It was cold, and you were exhausted; thank god your dad was out, otherwise, you would have had a lecture about the dangers of the night.

As you yawned you heard heavy footsteps behind you...

Your heart skipped a beat as you approached your front door, you were so close. You quickly whipped out your keys for protection, but your stranger saw it coming.

In an instant, his large hand wrapped around your mouth as he pulled your body into his with his other hand.

You wiggled and tried to shake him off you as he breathed harshly into your ear and tried to grab your keys off of you.

It was hard to breath as his hand pressed hard against your mouth and was large enough to block your nostrils.The man managed to rip the keys from your hand; with a harsh bang, you were slammed against your door before he managed to unlock it.

As he pushed you inside you managed to remove the hand he held against your mouth by shaking your head unexpectedly but he was too occupied by closing the door to care.

You pushed away from him harshly as you fell to the floor. The main goal was to provide oxygen for your lungs; as you slowly crawled away from the direction of your intruder he flicked the lights on. Your face was still facing the opposite direction and your willpower was failing.

"Stop!"

An arm reached around your crawling body as two feet were set beside you.

You screamed out as he flipped you around to face him.

"I’m not going to hurt you!"

You gasped as you now faced Kim Namjoon.

A small tear dropped down the side of your face as you stared up at him in shock.

He had kneeled, so his body was trapping your body, so you wouldn't move.

"Are you going to kill me?" You whispered as your breath started shaking, not knowing which one was going to be your last.

"No-i...i didn’t kill anyone" he said as frustrated groan filled your ears.

You looked at him in confusion before he rose off of you sitting on the floor next to you.

"W-what do you mean?" You asked quietly as he looked down at his hands.

"I admit...I’ve done some shitty things, but...I’ve never killed anyone" he stated as you slowly sat up and crosses your legs.

"What about daehyun...we saw those texts" you stated firmly as he shook his head.

"I was in love with daehyun, I only wanted to scare her- i....I would never" he started as tears welled up in his eyes.

"I don't know if I believe you...the Jeon house showed signs of forced entry..." you said slowly as you tried to read his face.

"I swear it wasn't me! Yes, I fought with their family and maybe I was obsessed with their daughter...but I swear, it wasn't me" he pleaded as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Why did you run?" You asked curiously.

He laughed as he shook his head "Y/N, I’m a drug dealer who has had sexual relations with minors in return for fake IDs and alcohol" he said as he looked at you like you had asked a dumb question...which you had.

"Yer well now, you're on trial for murder...but they haven't found any evidence yet" you said more to yourself.

"Because I wasn't there, and I didn't do it!" He exclaimed.

"Go back to the crime scene, you're smarter than you think you are...you can figure it out i know you can" he said in a serious tone.

You stared up at the ceiling before sighing deeply. Maybe...he's onto something...

"I don't trust you"

"You don't need to"

"Stay away from Jungkook, the last thing he needs is knowing that someone else may have killed his family" you said sadly. He's finally on the track to recovery...

"Don't worry...that kid scares me" he said as he shivered.

"Scares you?" You asked in confusion.

"Yer...don't worry about it. Just find the real killer"

you didn’t know why but you felt like more people were about to die but the murder of the Jeon family. The silence of your first murder sent chills down your spine but for some reason, this new murder freaked you out even more. the feeling of time running out was not a good one. You had to find this killer…you had to find him now.

[popsiclebunny]

Details about our apartment getting broken into

Okay, so, I couldn't write this last night, because it was pretty late and I don't think anyone would see the post, plus I was still shaken up and trying to calm down.

A little background info, my sis works at a food place that's located outside our neighborhood, yesterday was her day off, but she had to come in to help for a few hours and be back home by 2am, she works nightshift.

Okay, last night around 12:30, I was sleeping, alone in the apartment, so all lights were off. I heard some noises thinking my sis came home early from work. "Someone" opened my door, and I thought nothing of it, thinking that it was my sis checking up on me. A few seconds later that person opened the door again and I ended up saying "heey" (I think I said hey). After saying that though, that person bolted to out the front door, I got up like crazy to give chase and when I went outside, they were gone, just... gone (we live on the 3rd floor, if this person ran down the stairs, I should've at least heard footsteps from running?? But, I didn't, this person completely disappeared!) That's how I knew something was wrong, if it was my sis, she would've said "what dork" cause that's how we talk to each other, but this person said nothing and bolted, fuck, my heart rate dropped and I was terrified!!

After I got outside though I looked around and saw the window to our kitchens frame mesh on the ground and the one to our living room Windows mesh was moved to the side (its two long windows). I ended trying to call my dad first, no luck, so I called the cops.

Long story short, not much they could do since it was dark in the apartment and I couldn't see the person. So they filed a report and left.

Before they left though, I was able to get a hold of my sis and told her what happened, she came home and hugged me. She also looked around and noticed two things: this person went into her closet and threw clothes onto her bed, and our kitchen window was opened.

Now, I highly doubt atm that this person came through the kitchen window, it's NOT big enough for an adult unless this person was a freaking twig and when they bolted, the door was unlocked (maybe they locked pick, I don't know).

But yeah, we checked, nothing at all was stolen, just opened window and my sisters closet rummaged through... even her laptop was out in the living room, but then again, this person was wondering around in the dark, if the lights were turned on, I would've at least seen them.

Soooo... me and my sis are okay. I'm still shaken up and I can't sleep at all, I'm still... scared and my stress and anxiety are through the roof T.T I'm happy this person bolted instead of coming further into my room, I'm happy I wasn't hurt.

I told the rent office and we're going to get new door and window locks, my dad also says we're going to get new security cams also.

Fuck all this seriously, why break in if you aren't going to steal?? D:

[linssikeittomies]

The Place Between Here An There - Chapter 2: Ship Of Fools

Masterpost     AO3

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8   Chapter 9  Chapter 9(cont’d)

Ugh, Alfred is so hard to write! His POVs are all Thing happens, thing happens, thing happens, he has a thought, thing happens… Ivan’s POV is more like Thing happens, he has a thought about the thing, that reminds him of past thing, thing happens… And Alfred has too many non-plot-important friends, but leaving them out feels even more wrong because he’s a people person first and foremost. He does get more thinkey later, but at this point of the story he doesn’t really worry about anything so he doesn’t have too many thoughts floating around his brain. His parts feel like such filler orz Try and bear with me orz I got so sick of looking at this mess and not being able to write it the way I wanted to so I decided to screw it and let it be, filler-y and bad and all.

–

“Morning, sunshine!” a happy voice greeted Ivan right as he stirred. The grating cheeriness revealed the identity of the perpetrator before Ivan even opened his eyes. The act only confirmed that the annoying idiot was grinning from ear to ear. Seeing that his bedmate was somewhat awake encouraged the American to rise up on his elbows to peer down with an excited look. So he was near-sighted, since he hadn’t put on his glasses.

“Dobroye utro”, Ivan muttered, not sure if he was glad to see Alfred or not. The novelty of being treated like a normal human being was fading quickly now that he wasn’t allowed to wake up at his own pace. “Are you really a cop?” Alfred queried with badly contained glee, leaning in closer with his morning breath. With a grimace Ivan turned his head slightly, and Alfred seemed to get the hint. “Yes, a detective.” “Man, that’s so cool! I applied to the academy a few years back, but I had speeding tickets, and the air force didn’t want me for some reason so I’m still-“ Probably a store clerk. Maybe a cleaner. Likely living on his parents’ money. “- a fireman and it’s great ‘cause I’m saving lives and all, but man, cops! I love cops!” Yeah, right. This infuriating loser seemed barely literate. Pro wrestling would suit him much better: prancing around in embarrassing clothes yelling cringey lines, and no one would notice if he got brain damage. Claiming he actually did important work was the most bold-faced lie Ivan had heard in his life. “But how in the hell did you get in? Did you kill all the other applicants?” “How rude. I was never linked to those cases.” Alfred pretended to be struck dumb, and clutched his pearls like a scandalized granny. “I was hoping you’d claim to be the paragon of justice, but you just ran with it! How am I supposed to make fun of you with that attitude?” he laughed as he sat up, dragging the covers up with him and then letting them fall off his shoulders. The move revealed his toned chest and subtle six-pack again. Ivan contemplated taking a spied look between his legs, but decided against it. His senses were returning slowly, but the insecurity had already creeped in almost full swing. He pretended to be cold and wrapped the covers more tightly around him. “It’s not an attitude. It’s the truth.” Alfred laughed and told Ivan to dress his ugly ass, he was making pancakes. Ivan was not one to say no to a free meal, and the company only left something to desire.

Even if waking up next to someone was a questionable joy, having someone to eat breakfast with was undoubtedly pleasant. Much time had passed since the last time Ivan had a discussion at the table. They used to be common in the old days, and the siblings especially had been practically glued together, but then the thing happened and everything went to hell. Their family dynamics never got back to normal, even after 19 years of stability and moving halfway across the globe. It had no longer felt natural – one was missing and one became an outsider. It was almost more distracting to have his sisters in the same table than eating alone. But with Alfred there was no history so he couldn’t be reminded of anything, and as a result he found himself genuinely enjoying the moment. “Well, ya just don’t look the part, yannow? Think Magnum PI! Ya need a square jaw and a cool baritone voice and a great mustache.” “So what kind of cop do I look like?” “Hmmmm…” Alfred hummed and held an exaggeratedly long pause, took a bite off his pancakes, chewed and then shrugged. “I dunno, the kind who negs decent people and takes advantage of drunk guys?” Ivan shrugged nonchalantly.  “Guilty as charged”, he agreed. He doubted Alfred had actually been all that drunk by the time they left the restaurant, and the stumble had been a conspiracy to make Ivan take him home. He still had trouble imagining Katyushka scheming like this, because she had always been the most honest and straightforward of the family. Her saintly nature must have come from a distant ancestor. “So are you gonna go and brag to all your friends about how you finally scored with a conscious person?” “I hesitate to call someone with your level of brain activity conscious.” “But you will brag to all your friends?” “I don’t have friends”, Ivan’s mouth said with brutal honesty before his brain could shut it up. His breath got stuck in his throat as he waited for inevitable pitying look. It always happened. He could be as terrifying as he wanted, the second anyone learned about his sorry excuse of a social life they suddenly saw him a charity case, defective, helpless… Nothing could be further from the truth, but nothing would convince the hypocrites  that Ivan didn’t need anyone, people were only in the way, and he didn’t care for backstabbing gold diggers or emotional leeches. Jones was a person, Ivan had no use for him. God spared him just this once. Alfred, oblivious to anything but a jackhammer to the skull, missed his slip completely and continued with the friendly hostility. “Small wonder, with your personality.” Ivan was well aware of his flaws, but could do nothing to change them. His path had formed in front him on its own on that day and there were no side roads. He wasn’t like Jones, who had a say in what happened to him. He had no business commenting on what he knew nothing about, but spoken like a true American, he felt the need to police everyone else and just flap his mouth hole to make noise for the sake of it. And he had such a grating voice, too. Ivan wanted to get out of this apartment yesterday. “More coffee?” “Yes, please.” Watching Jones stuff his face with pancakes made Ivan wonder what he even found appealing about the glutton at this point. He was a slob with terrible table manners who loved putting people down. That answered the question of why he hadn’t gotten laid in ages, at least. He should get drunk more often, it seemed to better his odds. “Do you have the day off?” Ivan asked. He almost regretted it, since Jones didn’t bother swallowing his half-eaten pancakes, choosing instead to spit soggy crumbs all over the table. Ivan quickly lifted his coffee off it. Jones failed to take the hint, as expected. “Yeah, but my cousin’s coming over. I’ll have to kick you out by noon.” Ivan hadn’t been planning to stay after breakfast. He hadn’t planned to stay the night. Having to leave in a few hours was no problem for him. And even if he had been free to stay as long as he wanted, which was not a single minute by the way, he was a busy man. He had things to do. Plans to review. He wouldn’t stay even if Jones begged to blow him. “I’ll be gone before that.” Jones smirked coyly, for reasons unknown to Ivan. “Do you wear the uniform?” Ah, he was one who loved a man in uniform. Ivan could hardly blame him, he himself couldn’t resist a suit with a tie. Wonderful toys they were, so versatile, never failed to make him want to pull. He’d like to put one on Jones, for so many reasons. “Only for special occasions.” Ivan would have liked to have a newspaper at the table. The absence of one didn’t exactly surprise Ivan, Jones didn’t strike him as the type to read, even magazines. It was excusable – in his line of work it wasn’t important to know what had went on during the night. For Ivan, it was both a necessary evil and a questionable joy. Not knowing the latest updates when he walked into the office was considered bad work morale, and that’s where news apps really came in handy. A newspaper, after all, first had to go into print, and then be delivered. While all that happened, ten new things had unfolded. It was still nice to have a physical page in his hands, feel the crinkle. They were easily stored. Ivan had a whole bookcase dedicated to newspaper and magazine clippings: cold cases, cases he’d worked on, PD bashings, survival stories, true crime articles… Lately he had taken to throwing out some of the older things to make room for all the Baton killer related articles. 7 confirmed victims, 5 suspected, and that was only after a year and half of activity. Despite what you heard in popular media, it was actually quite rare for a serial killer to have more than 4 victims per year. Reporters liked to play up the numbers, speculating at least a dozen victims, but even more than that they liked blaming the police department for not catching the raving lunatic. Their words, not his – from the evidence and bodies it was clear as day the Baton killer was not crazy. Yes, he never bothered hiding the bodies well, but there was never any evidence left. Every body was cleaned thoroughly after the act to dispose of any DNA evidence, there was never a glimpse of him in security footage, no one ever reported seeing someone who didn’t belong… It takes meticulous planning and a clear mind to do something that carefully. The police weren’t even completely sure they were dealing with a male killer – the only reason to suspect that was that among the victims were two large men who had last been seen in gay bars, and an unopened condom left on the body of one female who had been reported to be fiercely faithful to her clean husband. Ivan didn’t like not knowing things. He got anxious when he couldn’t be sure. It should have been common courtesy to have one paper at the table. “A suit, then?” Ivan shook his head. He preferred wearing his everyday clothes to work, because they made him look just a bit less intimidating. A suit was a double-edged sword: on one hand, it tended to make people more nervous and slip up, but on the other, it isolated him further. Normal human interactions were few and far between for Ivan, so he cherished every single one. This was why he liked dealing with the the deaf: they couldn’t tell the disparity between his voice and stature, so they assumed he was just a normal, large man. In this Alfred resembled them. The bad thing about Jones was that he was insufferable. Ivan had a hunch Jones would be difficult with the authorities, just for the sake of being difficult. “Betcha you’d look hot in one”, Alfred said, winking. Ivan didn’t agree. He didn’t think he looked hot in most clothes. He still muttered a thank you because he wasn’t on the mood to argue.

~¨:.:¨~

Jeez, this guy was just too cute! No adult man should be allowed to have such an adorable face! The way he shyly blushed and averted his eyes to the side combined with his huge stature did something incredibly pleasant to Al. It was getting the best of two worlds. He tended to go for the big, tough guys, but enjoyed the odd twink every now and then, and here he had two for the price of one! Moving to the big city really was the best damn decision he had made in his life. Rural Kentucky just didn’t have these types. “Unlike you, no doubt”, Ivan answered weakly, and Al grinned again. He couldn’t explain why he liked exchanging insults so much. He did it all the time with Arthur, too, but the Brit always got pissed too quickly. Mattie’s game was too strong, so Al no longer did it with him. But now he had a new playmate! One that liked the game just as much! He hadn’t had this much fun since last night, and with any luck he might be able to convince the Russian babe for round two of that, as well! Maybe one day he could bring the insult game to bed? “Yeah, but I look good naked”, Al shot back. Ivan rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee again. “You get cross-eyed when you take off your glasses.” “Do not! Take that back, fatso!” With a teasing smile Ivan raised his gun again. “And you smell terrible. Have you showered in the last three days?” “Didn’t bother you last night.” “I had a momentary lapse of standards. The culture must be damaging my brain.” Aaahhh, that accent! That was paradise, right there! Ivan really had everything: looks, personality, huge body, huge dick… He should marry the guy before he wriggled away. The way to a man’s heart goes through his stomach, right? “Sure you don’t want pancakes?” Alfred confirmed. He was almost offended Ivan had refused them the first time. While his weren’t as divine as Mattie’s, they could still make a man moan in pleasure. Pancakes were the one food he never made from instant mix or in a microwave. “I am sure.” Al pouted and poured some more syrup on his stack. Fine, be that way!Vodka had probably ruined his tastebuds anyway, so he couldn’t appreciate the pancakes if he wanted to. Ivan gulped down the last of his coffee and got up. “Leaving already?” “I have work. Thank you for the coffee.” Work on Sunday? What kind of breakthrough had they had in whatever case Ivan was working on? Detectives usually only worked weekdays 9 to 5. “No prob. See ya ‘round!” Ivan scoffed as he put on his coat. He was wearing three layers, and it wasn’t even that cold yet. Guess he was just always cold, if he needed two sweaters even indoors. “No one would want to see you again. You are a headache on feet.” Al laughed. A lot of people commented on his loud voice, usually telling him to turn it down a notch. He just didn’t have an indoor voice and he got excited so easily. “And my ears are ringing from listening to you squeaking”, he joked back. He wondered why Ivan decided to use such a weird voice. Obviously he had a much deeper natural pitch, but it hadn’t come out much even last night. He sounded like a prepubescent boy. It added to his cute image, but couldn’t have been easy to produce. Maybe it was an effect of growing up with two high-pitched sisters? “Are you the youngest?” “The youngest what?” Ivan asked, voice muffled from the pale pink scarf. Another cute quirk, didn’t fit his towering height and wide shoulders at all. “Sibling. Katie’s the oldest, right?” “Yes. Katyusha is four years older and Natasha is five years younger.” “Really? You and Natalie look the same age. Do you look young or does she look old?” “It could be a little bit of both.” Ivan had his hand on the knob, but hesitated. Al tilted his head questioningly, and Ivan reached a decision. He dug out a pen from his pocket, but couldn’t find paper, so he wrote his number on the wall instead. “Call me if you want to go drinking sometime.” “After you ruin my fucking wall?! In your dreams!” Ivan gave an infuriating little smirk and closed the door after him. Damn that Russki and his adorable ways. How long should Al wait before he called?  The same day would be needy and a little creepy, but he didn’t want to wait two days! Agh, this was just like that one time in Montana! Or, Christ, Tex! He couldn’t handle another bi-curious cutie deciding he wanted to stick to women! The guy was just too much fun, Al really liked just hanging out with him, not that he minded the afterhours, either… After wolfing down his seventh pancake Al did his morning pushups and jog. Artie had been right in that age would eventually catch up with him and he’d need to work harder to stay in shape. With his steady diet of junk food it was really a miracle he was so fit. Musta been good genes. Pissed Artie off to no end. Speaking of, he should clean up the place. Neither of them was looking forward to Mister Cleanliness nagging about Al’s housekeeping skills. It didn’t really even matter, no one in the history in the world had died of a few shirts on the floor, or a few weeks’ dust, or a messy closet, and penicillin had been discovered in dirty dishes. And so what if there was some food gone bad in the fridge, they were in closed containers, the bugs weren’t about to strongarm open the lids. Ehh, Artie was still three hours away, he had time. He could play some Mortal Kombat first. He needed to practice Kenshi’s fatalities anyway. And while he was on the sofa anyway, he might as well try out that GTA swing glitch! Oldie but goodie.

Knock knock. “Who’s there?” Just kidding, Al already knew it was Artie. His British cousin was the only person in the world who knocked when there was a perfectly good doorbell. “It’s me.” “Me who?” “Arthur, you bloody twat! Open up!” Sigh, ol’ Artie never played along. All he laughed at was that Monty Python show. Poor guy, he’d die an early death thanks to never laughing. Al threw the controller on the couch and got up to get the door. Yikes, those eyebrows were still a shock every time. “I swear you grow like twenty new hairs every time I see you!” Al commented, earning an irritated sigh from his cousin. After 17 years he didn’t need to ask what Al meant by that. “And you accumulate more and trash in your place. Three copies of Die Hard 2?” Artie whined looking at the living room table. Well, at least he wasn’t bitching about the dirty coffee cups and plates on the kitchen table. He should be a maid, he was so great at whining about pointless stuff. After setting his luggage in a corner, Artie made a show of placing the Xbox controller on the coffee table and making himself at home on the couch, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “Never again!” he announced. “This baby screamed the whole flight and my neighbour spilled his orange juice all over my trousers.” Seeing Al eyeing his perfectly dry pants, he explained. “I changed in the airport toilet.” “Wanna throw them in the washing machine?” “Go ahead.” Artie’s suitcases were works of art. He knew just the way to tightroll everything and exactly how much of any given thing was needed, then filled every square inch so perfectly it looked like a Tetris high score. Speaking of Tetris! “Hey, Artie! Guess who scored with a cop last night?” “Alfred, please! I don’t want to hear about your sex life!” “But he was so great! So tall and cool and burly and cute! And I got his number!” Artie gave him a confused look from under his arm. “Burly and cute? That’s a combination you don’t hear often.” “I know! But it was awesome! God, I wish I had a photo to show you, he was just perfect! He’s a detective!” Artie lifted his feet off the couch to let Al plop down next to him. “He acted all cool and aloof and then blushed when I said he’d look hot in a suit! It was adorable!” Al knew he was gushing like a teenage girl about her latest celebrity crush but he couldn’t help it! This was the single greatest thing that had happened to him since… since he first got laid, basically! “And he’s a cop! I’ve never seen a cop like him! He wrote his number on the wall”, Al helpfully pointed at the number scratched on the wall paper. The wince on Artie’s face was great. “You two seem like you would get along swell”, he muttered. “I know! He’s not at all uptight like you are!” “It’s called being a functioning adult! You git!” “A functioning adult would have brought me Cadbury creme eggs!” “The last time I did you thought I was flirting with you!” Oh right, it had been the day before Valentine’s and Artie had been blushing for some reason.

They cleaned up the place together. Artie tried to cook “as a reward”, which would have been about as much of a reward as a death penalty. Al insisted he wouldn’t make a guest cook, so they went out for dinner, even though Artie hardly counted as a guest. He was rarely over, thanks to the ocean between them, but the guy was as much family as Mattie. Every time he stayed at Al’s place it was like a roommate coming home. Artie didn’t buy the excuse, as he never did, and claimed Al needed a good English dinner in him just once and would never go back, as he always did. This was routine for them. Everything about Artie was familiar. He had gone through a few phases in his teens and early twenties, but ever since becoming a premature grandpa the only thing that changed were his clothes. He was as stagnant as Mattie. “You gonna go see Mattie after dropping by our folks?” “I don’t have time”, Artie said. “I only have three days left and I couldn’t get a ticket. I’ll see him on Christmas.” It was something of a tradition for the whole extended family to gather at Mattie’s place on Christmas, since he was one of the few who didn’t switch apartments every year. Not everyone could make it at the same time, some stayed for a few days before Christmas and some dropped in to say hi on Christmas Day. Al always stayed in the guest room, but the sheer number of relatives forced the large majority to stay in hotels. Artie got a mattress on the floor the years his pervert husband stayed home. They had learned from the first time. “Francis is still working out his schedule so I’m not sure if he can make it.” “Good! He’s already got a hubby, he shouldn’t hit on Mattie!” Francis was an okay guy most of the time, but you better not let your guard down or you’d find his hands down your pants. How Artie hadn’t dumped his cheating ass was something Al would never understand. If he ever started going steady, he wouldn’t forgive a single stray ogle. Luckily Ivan didn’t seem like the type to cheat, since it had taken him so long to even realize Al had been hitting on him from the first sentence he had said to him. It didn’t look like the guy had much of a sex drive. “And he better stay the hell away from my date, too!” “Your date? Weren’t you single just a few hours ago?” “I’m talking about that cop!” Artie made a face, but Al couldn’t figure out what he had said wrong this time. “Al, you only met the guy yesterday, and now you’re bringing him to Canada for Christmas?” “No! I mean, I could, I think we really clicked and I’m of course awesome so he totally wouldn’t say no.” Another face, more concerned than exasperated this time. “Oh come on Artie, be a little more happy for me wontcha?” “I am, it’s just that – you’ve been hurt before, because you get so into it far too early.” Right, Tex. But this was different from Tex! Ivan was completely comfortable being with men! He wouldn’t pull the same “incompatible” stunt he had! Ivan and Al went so well together, they liked the same things, they understood each other, and talking was so easy between them. Talking with Tex had sometimes been like pulling teeth. “I’ll be fine! I’m a grown man! And it’s just for fun – I just meant I wouldn’t object to getting serious if he wants to.” “Well – good luck”, Artie muttered. “Thanks!”

The next morning Al woke up to a horrible smell drifting from the kitchen. Not the worst Artie had ever caused, but it still made his eyes water. The sentiment was nice, but Artie just didn’t get that his breakfast would be put to better use in torture chambers. They did the usual song and dance – Artie claiming his cooking was great and Al just didn’t understand the fine undertones of British cuisine, and Al dumping his portion in the garbage and frying a healthy dose of bacon. Then they went sightseeing, since this was Artie’s first time in this city – the last time he had been living in Waynesburg. He’d leave tomorrow while Al was at work, so they had to make the day nice, since they would next see each other on Christmas. Granted, they talked daily but it still felt important to part on friendly terms. The one time they hadn’t, Artie had cut all contact with Al for 5 years. It didn’t matter that it had been over a decade ago, that before and after they were thick as thieves. So the next morning Al let his cousin make breakfast, bravely swallowed one bite and washed it down with half a gallon of Coke, and finished with three sunny side ups. Artie insisted his “baked beans”, that is, a sad, dry heap of something bumpy, and black pudding were delicious and nutritious. That might have been the case with store-bought “pudding” that had no business being called pudding, if the ingredient’s weren’t so god damn gross to begin with. “It’s an acquired taste, that’s for sure”, Al muttered in response. How Artie was capable of swallowing his own hellish productions was a mystery for the ages. He was married to a master chef and still lived in a delusional world where his own cooking wouldn’t be censored in daytime TV. Al left the Brit to shovel his indescribable “consumables” alone, and 15 minutes later arrived at the station. “Morning, guys!” “Morning”, greeted a chorus. A slow night, then, if so many were at the station. José made space for Al at the table and they went over the incidents of the last shift. A couple car crashes, two kitchen fires, one false alarm. Such a big city and so few incidents, that couldn’t last. Today would have to be busy. Stu dug out the playing cards after the last shift went home. They were starting the second round of poker when duty called the first time – a false alarm from an old folks’ home, something had spilled on the stove and triggered the alarm. One of the nurses made eyes at Stu, who never wasted a chance to flirt with a pretty face. “Way to keep it professional, Stu”, Jack sighed back in the truck. Jack was a forty-year old virgin. Word on the street was he’d never had a single girlfriend, or boyfriend, and that was why he was so frustrated. He spent most of his free time exercising and fishing. “I just made her day”, Stu argued proudly. He never went beyond flirting, as far as Al knew – the man worshiped his wife. His phone memory was 90% pictures of her. That reminded Al - should he have called Ivan yesterday? Al knew he wouldn’t mind being contacted the next morning, but Artie did keep telling him he was the most socially clueless bloke in the world, so maybe he shouldn’t trust his own judgment? Why hadn’t he asked Artie yesterday? The old man might not have been in the game for a decade, but he had to still have some memories from his single days! “Hey Jack, suppose you gave your number to a girl. Wouldja think she was desperate if she called you the next day?” Jack sighed exasperatedly, like he always did when Al asked him for relationship advice. “I don’t know. I never know anything you ask! Think whatever you think.” “I just wanna make sure! ‘Cause I don’t wanna drive away a good guy by being creepy.” “You’ll drive him away by being obnoxious”, Jack snapped. “Can we please concentrate on work instead of your sex life?” “I’d rather not think about all the dick my coworker is sucking, either”, Stu commented from behind the wheel. Had it been anyone else, Al would have punched them. Stu was chill, he just had a crass sense of humor and no brain-to-mouth filter. “Honestly though, wait until next evening but not longer. You’ll want to seem interested.” Shit, so was it already too late?! A day and a half had already passed! And the station was still ten minutes away! Had he already screwed up his chance? Jeez, stay cool, man! Ivan was totally into him, if anything he’d be overjoyed Al had remembered him! Yeah, that sounded much better. Al could salvage this. Right when they got to the station he’d call. Riiiiight… nnnnnnnnnoooooooooow! “I need to make a call!” he yelled and sprinted for the relative peace of the locker room.

~¨:.:¨~

Ivan was in no mood for solicitors right now. Staring at files and security footage for hours on end was soul-sucking work enough without some young hopeful desperately begging him to buy just this one amazing supplement that comes free with this subscription of these seven home improvement magazines only for 19.99 per month! Ivan never had problems hanging up on them immediately but that didn’t take away the reminder of outside life. For now, the only place that was supposed to exist was this sleazy alley with dismal lighting where one frame in a week’s worth might or might not reveal that Richard Boyarin had walked by it at some point during his vacation. Incredibly important work. Ivan frowned at the screen. It was a number he didn’t have saved on his phone. That was no news, he had a total of eight numbers in there. Two were his sisters’, one his boss’, one his partner’s, one for the station front desk, three for delivery food. He suddenly had the irrationally hopeful thought that it might be Alfred. Absurd as the notion was, it was tempting. And Toris clearly wanted him to silence the ringing, so why not try his luck? Anything would be better than trying to distinguish the black pixels from the other, slightly less black pixels. Fully prepared to be disappointed, Ivan answered as harshly as he could. “Alyo?” ”Hey Vanya, it’s Alfred!” Thoroughly shocked, but altogether pleased, Ivan felt an unexpectedly honest smile forming on his face, and casually insulted Alfred’s pronunciation. “Oh screw you, I did fine. You free tomorrow night?” Alfred’s nasal voice asked, completely carefree and smiling widely. Typical American, but at least Alfred’s smile wasn’t deceitful. He smiled because he was happy, not because he needed a good tip to pay his bills. Ivan was free, and had the feeling he would even make himself free if he hadn’t been. But the idiot didn’t need to know that, his ego was bloated enough already. “Hmm…” Pausing as if to check his calendar, Ivan lifted a finger to his lips at the nervously disapproving Toris. There was never any evidence in the Baton killer’s cases anyway. Of course not a single hair, spit drop or footprint had been found in this one either, which was the whole reason they had been forced to turn to these good as useless security tapes. The only thing ever found were the bodies, and that they had already analyzed to Hell and back, and of course it had revealed nothing new. Why pour over the same old evidence, hour after countless hour without any breaks? There would be a new victim, perhaps soon, even, there had been a long break between the last two. Then they could actually work. “Yes, I have a few hours after seven.” It wouldn’t do to look too eager. Ivan Braginski did not chase after men. “Great! Wanna go out? Rocker’s has a party celebrating the owner’s daughter’s birthday so they’ll have free booze! See you there at eight!” It better not be punch. “I suppose. What’s the address?” “It’s right next to orthodox church, you’ll find it!” If he found the church. Ivan rarely paid attention to places of worship, and then only to avoid them. Well, he would just Google the place later. Couldn’t be too many Orthodox churches in a city like this. He wondered if Alfred suggested the place because he thought Ivan had an inclination towards the Eastern church. “And hey, you never showed me your badge”, Alfred whined. An adult man, so fixated on badges, how cute. “You didn’t ask.” “Well show it to me tomorrow! You’ll love it”, Alfred said, wiggling his eyebrows so hard they almost rode the electronic waves to Ivan’s desk. He truly did like cops. Alfred was delightfully childish in a way that was funny for a few hours, but no one could take for more than a day at a time. One could only imagine how he had been as an actual child. Ten times as bad, or exactly the same? Maybe some boys never did grow up, as they say. “Only If you promise to stop whining.” “I promise nothing! Come onnnn, I’ll show ya my hose…” Again the eyebrows wiggled and Ivan almost snickered. Such a strange person. How old was he? He had looked a bit younger than Ivan, so maybe thirty or late twenties? A good age, young enough to enjoy fun but not young enough go overboard, old enough to understand life but not old enough to be weary of it. “Well in that case. Will you show me how it works?” “Oh, I’ll show you all right, and let you try…” This time Ivan did snort. “Tone down the eyebrows and I might take up your offer”, he chuckled, making Toris tilt his head in confusion. It couldn’t be that odd to hear Ivan laugh, could it? Surely he had done it in his partner’s presence before. “Eyebrows?” Alfred asked and the eyebrows stopped wiggling. He must have done it instinctively so he didn’t even pick up on it. Ivan wouldn’t be surprised – Alfred hardly seemed the perceptive type. The only things he could think about were probably sex, cheetos and beer. “You want me to pluck ‘em? They’re kinda thin already…” “Nevermind. Just make sure to impress me and you’ll get something good in return”, Ivan smirked, whirling around on his office chair. “Ivan –“ Toris attempted, but a quick hushing from Ivan silenced him and made him go back to studying the badly pixellated security footage. “Oh, do you have company?” “Just my partner. We’re going through some evidence.” Thank you, Toris. Live a little, nerd. “Jeez, you should have said you were at work. Tell me all about it later! Seven at Rocker’s! Bye!” “Bye.” With a heavy sigh Ivan put his phone back in his pocket. Security footage was easily the most mind-numbing part of police work, even worse than paper work, and in homicide investigation it contrasted so badly with the actual interesting part it felt ten times more tedious than in any other department. “Toris, you wouldn’t mind getting me a coffee?” Toris silently nodded and scurried off. The diminutive Lithuanian was an interesting mix of courage and nerves: on the job he wouldn’t flinch even when a gun was pointed at him, but whenever he was alone with his partner, he became a fidgety mess. Brilliant man, great at his job, but very meek. He had joined the force three years before Ivan, and was also that same three years older. They had been partnered seven months ago, after Ivan’s then-partner had been crippled on duty when they had been chasing a suspect. Tragic story, really. She would have survived the car crash with minor injuries, had a freak malfunction not made her gun fire inside the car and lodge the bullet in her spine. One of the finest of the force, she had been. Dedicated, smart.

--

You might have noticed that Ivan goes back and forth with Alfred and Jones – that’s on purpose. He uses Jones whenever he wants to maintain some distance, and Alfred when he forgets to despise all of humanity. Oh Ivan, you’re not nearly as misanthropic as you tell yourself!

Dobroye utro(Дoбрoе утрo): Good morning Alyo( Алё): Hello

Chapter name comes from Ship of Fools by World party. I should probably mention that the song lyrics have nothing to do with the chapter contents, I choose them purely by title. Also the symbolism mostly only makes sense to me:D Don’t mind if you don’t get what I’m going for.

[davidcarner]

Sarah vs The Life Unexpected Ch 10, Shut Up and Kiss Me

A/N: This is probably the angstiest I will ever get with this fic. If you're looking for more than that, you've come to the wrong place. (But my guess is you're here for a reason, it's fine, we're all friends here.) Some have asked if there will be a mission. Probably. Maybe. I know a meeting with Beckman is coming sooner rather than later. I'm also guessing updates will be much less frequent the next two weeks with Christmas coming. Thank you all for the reviews, favorites, follows, DMs, PMs, Tumblrs, and however you've contacted me.

Also huge thanks to @haalpert for the great Charah bracelet gif!

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, but I did find the season 2 deleted season on youtube.

Chuck was in that place, half-awake, half-asleep. There was something on his left cheek, not chewing, but every once in a while there felt like teeth. It was more than something, it was causing him to wake up quickly. He was quite aware he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, because he was pretty sure the hairs on his face just grew from whatever was being done to him. He was fighting to open his eyes, when it suddenly stopped, and he felt his pillow go down by his left side, like someone was hiding. He felt eyes staring at him from the right. He opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to the right. There stood Molly with the biggest grin on her face.

"If you say a word about calling the stork," Chuck began. He paused for a second. "Just don't."

"You're getting really good at this Daddy thing," Molly said. "Granny wants to know if you're hungry?" Chuck started to answer but his stomach made its own feelings clear. "Daddy's hungry!" she said, and took off. Chuck felt a hand go over his chest and slowly down his torso.

"She's right, you're getting really good at this daddy thing," Sarah said softly, her lips on his ear. Chuck realized where her hand was and he did the one thing he was best at. He freaked out. Emma was up, Molly was up, and if they kept this up…He shot out of bed.

"Wow! Look at the time. You probably want a shower. I'll let you have this one, and I'll go use the other." And with that he shot out of the room, clothes in hand. Sarah sat up, looking around, confused. Had she just been pranked? She sighed, got up, and went to take her own shower. A cold one. Down the hallway, Chuck was standing in the shower, bouncing his head off the wall. "What are you doing?" he asked himself. "Seriously, what are you doing? The most beautiful woman in the world, who loves you, and you love her, and you dash out like that. What is wrong with you?"

He took his shower, got dressed, went back into the bedroom, closed the door behind him, and sat on the bed, waiting. Chuck heard the shower turn off, and a few minutes later, Sarah came out of the bathroom, dressed. She looked at Chuck as he stood, and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.

"Listen, I am so sorry. That just caught me off guard and everyone is awake, and I'm…Sarah, I love you, and if you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life with you, it's just, this whole thing, it's like…"

"We've been set-up and pushed together?" Chuck's eyes got wide. Sarah nodded. "I feel the same way. There's so much pressure on us, that I feel like we just can't be. Does that make sense?"

"That is exactly how I feel," Chuck said softly. He walked up to her and hugged her. "Are we crazy?" Sarah pulled away and looked him in the eye.

"I get the strangest feeling we've been set-up, and I'm glad I met you, and I'm glad this is crazy, and I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, but it feels like everyone is pushing us to be something and maybe we aren't ready to be that yet," Sarah replied.

"Do you know how much of a burden you've taken off of my mind, you just saying that?" Chuck asked. Sarah grinned.

"Good, and do you know how much of a burden you've taken off my mind knowing that you feel the same way?" Chuck shook his head. "Maybe I shouldn't move in." Chuck shook his head no.

"No," Chuck began.

"Listen, it's a lot of pressure on us, maybe we should just slow it down? It doesn't change what I feel about you." Chuck was quiet for a second.

"I've slept the best I have in years holding you." Sarah sighed.

"I've slept the best I have as well."

"It's not like I don't want to make love to you," Chuck began. "95% of all men would say I'm crazy."

"That's why I'm not dating and in love with 95% of all men."

"Stay. Move in, sell your apartment, and stay. I'll have them put the house in our names. Just don't leave."

"Easy boy, that's close to begging."

"I ain't too proud," Chuck said with a grin.

"You do know that song's about sex right?" Chuck leaned down and kissed her. It started out slow and soft, but the hunger within both of them grew. The next thing they knew, they were both on the bed, clothes seconds from flying off, when Sarah stopped.

"Did I do something wrong?" Chuck asked. Sarah shook her head laughing.

"Not like this, not the first time," she said softly. Chuck took her hand and kissed it. "But after that," she said, hitting him with her version of the eyebrow dance. Chuck shook his head, grinned, and hit her with his version. The smile fell from her face. She leaned in close. "You were right, it does work," she said sultry. Chuck visibly gulped, and Sarah laughed. "Come on," she said patting his leg. "Speaking of being set-up, there's a certain five-year-old we need to speak to." Chuck held her wrist for a second, and she looked back at him.

"You're not leaving?" Sarah smiled and shook her head.

"I regretted the idea as soon as I said it," she admitted. She leaned forward and kissed him. "Chuck the only way you'll get rid of me is if you run me off."

"Sarah, you're former CIA, I couldn't make you do anything." Sarah grinned.

"You don't give yourself enough credit," she whispered. Chuck stared at her for a second, and quickly got up off the bed.

"We need to get out of here, now."

"Do we?" she asked, and Chuck fled. Sarah chuckled and headed out of the room. Chuck was waiting for her at the staircase. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in.

"You are going to be the death of me," he said into her ear, and pulled her in tighter.

"Look, I think you and I need to have a little chat with someone. Follow my lead on this one, okay?"

"Wait, that's not right. You're her mom, and you shouldn't have to play the bad cop and me play the good cop." Sarah just looked at him.

"You're five seconds from me dragging you back in that bedroom," she replied. Chuck groaned.

"Listen, later. I promise I'm good with us. But right now, there's too many up and around."

"Okay, can you do bad cop?" Chuck grinned.

"Only one way to find out. Why don't you go first. Sit down on one side of her, and I'll sit on the other." Sarah headed down the steps. Chuck counted to 20 and then followed. He got to the table, and sat down beside Molly. Emma looked up saw the two on either side of Molly, and shook her head.

"I think the game's up, Kid," Emma said. Molly shrugged.

"I don't care, I got what I wanted." Chuck turned to look at Molly.

"Don't be too mad at her, Chuck, I was involved as well," Emma admitted.

"Mom!" Sarah said.

"Oh, give me a break. You've done nothing but work, and raise that girl for five years."

"What did you do?" Sarah asked. Emma smiled and looked at her granddaughter.

"Very little, to be honest, it was mostly Molly. She had pictures of you and showed them to Clara at preschool." Chuck looked at Molly, who shrugged.

"I just told her she was my mommy," Molly said. "I told Mrs. Wood I was trying to help Clara talk, and she said most babies can't say mommy, but can say mama."

"So you showed her the picture and called her mama," Chuck said, grinning.

"You're not upset?" Molly asked.

"No," Chuck replied. Sarah looked at him, surprised. "Why would I be upset? Look, what did she do, set us up on a blindish date? Maybe got one of the preschool teachers involved, and your mom? We," Chuck said pointing to himself and Sarah. "Are the ones who fell in love. They introduced us. We should probably be thankful. Plus, Clara is walking, talking, and …where is Clara?"

"In the playpen in the living room," Emma said. Sarah hopped up smiling, and went to get her. Emma leaned in. "You do know if she keeps that up with Clara, one day she's going to want another baby." Chuck nearly choked. "What if I take the girls to the apartment tonight?"

"You don't have to," Chuck said softly.

"Scared to be alone in the house with me, Chuck?" Sarah asked. Chuck turned and looked at Sarah.

"No, it's just I spent most of yesterday asleep and missed out on everyone last night," Chuck replied. Sarah just looked at him, grinning. "I also know how you can't control yourself around me."

"Baby brother!" Molly loud whispered. Chuck rolled his eyes and Sarah laughed.

"I'll take the girls tonight," Emma said. "Just so you know, it wasn't just the people you named in on the plan."

"There was a plan?" Sarah asked.

"I wanted to do project Charah," Molly said. Chuck and Sarah shared a look.

"Oh, goody, we have a cutesy couple name," Chuck said.

"I kinda like it," Sarah said, shrugging.

"Morgan said we had to change it," Molly added.

"Morgan was in on it?" Sarah asked, shocked.

"You know Casey, Alex, and Carina were as well," Chuck added. Molly just nodded. "What name did Morgan come up with?"

"Project OMAHA," Molly replied. Operation Married And Happy Always."

"I don't hate it," Chuck admitted.

"Always, huh," Sarah said, coming up and wrapping an arm around Chuck. He leaned back into her and looked up at her. "Think you can handle that, Bartowski?"

"I can if you can," he replied. She leaned down and pecked him on the lips.

"Challenge accepted," she said, winking at him.

"Seriously, when's the wedding?" Emma asked. Chuck shrugged looking at Sarah.

"I figure when she gets tired of waiting and asks me," Chuck said. "I know you're taking the kids tonight, but would you mind watching them for a bit now? There's something I want to show Sarah."

"Sure," Emma replied. "I was going to take them to the park anyway, and see if you two wanted to join me."

"This won't take long, I promise," Chuck said.

"Then we need to plan Clara's birthday party," Molly said. Sarah looked at Chuck.

"She turns one this coming Friday," Chuck said.

"I haven't even gotten her anything yet," Sarah said. Chuck looked at her like she was crazy. He reached in and tickled Clara's belly and she scrunched herself into Sarah's neck.

"Sarah, because of you and Molly, Clara is the happiest she's been since she's been with me. She has a mom and a sister, what else could she need?"

"Mama," Clara said, hugging Sarah. Sarah's eyes were filled with tears. Chuck got up, found his shoes, put them on, and held Clara while Sarah got ready.

"Seriously, we need to throw her a party," Molly said.

"You got it, Pumpkin," Chuck replied. "Help Emma watch her and we'll meet you at the park in a little bit." Sarah came downstairs ready to go. Chuck gave Clara over to Emma and they headed to the car. A quick drive to the beach and Chuck had reached his destination. He held her hand as he slowly walked to what he considered his spot.

"I always came here when things went wrong," Chuck said softly. "I came here after I was kicked out of Stanford, after Ellie died, and every time things seemed to go wrong." Chuck turned to Sarah. "Even on days that were seemingly good, I wanted to come here and just watch the waves to calm me, soothe me. Since I've met you, I haven't had one want to come here, except to show you this spot. There's not much of my life you've not seen or been a part of already. I mean you already live in my old apartment, but this, this is my spot. I want you to know as confusing and crazy the past few days have been, I couldn't be happier. All because of you." Chuck leaned in to kiss her, and she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I realize you've been closed up for the past several years, but you opening up like this, I understand, it makes you vulnerable, it's scary, and you're taking a chance. I promise you, I will be worth the chance." She started to kiss him, and he pulled back, a grin covering his face.

"You know, with the things we've said in the past few days, we'd be married in a few countries." Sarah laughed, and Chuck pulled her in for a hug. He pulled away slightly, and began to kiss her. After a few moments they pulled apart. "You know the house might be empty." Sarah looked at him, considering.

"Tonight?" Chuck nodded.

"I mean no pressure or anything," Chuck said. Sarah bit her bottom lip trying to keep from laughing.

"Let's go," Chuck said. "I have barely seen my girls."

"You're girls?" Sarah asked, an eyebrow arched. Chuck looked over at her.

"My girls, which includes you," Chuck said. She wrapped an arm around him and with her other, placed her hand on his chest as they walked back to the car.

"Careful, Chuck," she said. "Keep talking like that and you'll find yourself surrounded by us for fifty years or so."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

}o{

The drive to the park was quiet. Chuck sat in the passenger seat, thinking. Sarah reached over and took his hand.

"Talk to me," she said softly.

"You're gonna hate me," he replied.

"Never."

"I don't want Molly and Clara to go tonight," Chuck said. "When we started this, we knew exactly what each one came with, and after talking to Molly yesterday about family, it just seems like we're hypocrites. I mean it's one thing taking a night off but after what Molly said last night…it just doesn't feel right." Sarah didn't say anything for a second.

"Chuck Bartowski, if you keep this up, I am going to drag you to the courthouse tomorrow," she said softly. Chuck looked at her, blinking.

"File a restraining order?" Chuck asked confused. She gave him a look. It would have been longer and more pointed, but she was driving. They reached their destination, she pulled in, whipped off her seat belt, and got close to him as possible. She grabbed his face with both of her hands.

"I'm going to marry you before someone else figures out how wonderful you are and makes a play for you."

"Sarah, there's no one else but you."

"How do you know it's been less than a week."

"Sarah, I know. Will it be hard work, yes. Will it take every day of me showing you how much you mean to me, yes. Will I gladly do it, yes." Tears flowed down Sarah's eyes. She leaned in to kiss him, when she felt someone watching her. She looked past Chuck and noticed the face peering in the car.

"Molly?" Chuck asked.

"That girl, to want us to be together…"

"Think if we tell her that if she leaves us alone she might get that brother is a bad idea?" Chuck asked with a grin. The look Sarah returned wasn't a grin, and she wasn't mad, but Chuck thought perhaps he shouldn't ever joke about that again. "Never mind."

"Don't start something you can finish, Chuck," Sarah said softly. Molly was beating on the car window. "To be continued," she said, winking at him. Chuck gulped. The two got out of the car, and Chuck picked up Molly.

"Kid, I kinda need you not to keep showing up at inopportune times," Chuck said softly to her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just missed you, and I won't get to see you tonight."

"Well, your mom and I were talking about that," Chuck replied. "You're not going anywhere tonight. There may come a night in the future where your Mom and I may do something alone, but I don't think right now is the right time." Molly hugged him. "No matter what happens between you and your mom, I got you, Pumpkin."

"No, you and Mommy have to stay together," she said, hanging on to him for dear life.

"That's my plan, Pumpkin. That's my plan." Chuck noticed Emma and Sarah talking. Sarah took Clara, and Emma waited for Chuck.

"Turning down a night alone with my daughter?" Emma asked, grinning.

"Emma, or should I say, Mom," Chuck said grinning. Emma smiled at that. "We got into this knowing it wasn't just us, so we need to make sure this is going to work. Besides," Chuck said, tickling Molly's ribs. "I gotta make sure all my girls are happy."

"Chuck, will you just marry her," Emma said, exasperated.

"If that's what you want, then why don't both of you tone it down," Chuck said seriously. "It's been a week. Let us find our pace. I appreciate everything you've done, and I am thankful for the support, but let us figure this out."

"You're right," Emma said. "We were so concerned you two would never find each other, we went overboard. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Chuck said, setting Molly down and ruffling her hair. "Without you both, we may have never got this far, but now, we know what we have, and, I can't speak for Sarah, but I'm going to do everything I can to make her happy as long as she'll let me."

"While I do appreciate you not speaking for me," Sarah said from behind Chuck. "I agree with everything you just said." She walked up and put her free arm around him. "I'm moving in, and I'm bringing Molly, and we'd love to have you stay with us." Chuck nodded. "This is my family now. Maybe it's unconventional, maybe it happened fast, but it's what makes both of us happy, and this is what we both want." Emma's smile was huge.

"I couldn't be happier for you two," she said. "If you'll have me," she began. Chuck cut her off.

"Come on, Emma, Sarah raising two and a half kids…." Emma grinned. Sarah looked down at Molly and winked.

"You know you're the half one, right?" Molly hugged both their legs. Sarah looked at Chuck. "We've got to plan a birthday party," she said, grinning. "A girl only turns one once, right, Clara," she asked looking back. Chuck reached over and tickled her belly. Sarah gave a glance around the park and caught Chuck's eye.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Probably some pervert watching the kids or something, something just feels off," she said.

"Then let's head home," Chuck said. Sarah started to shake her head. "Hey, remember you're a former spy, plus a mom, and that whole women's intuition thing. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"What about Chuck E Cheese?" Molly asked. Sarah and Chuck shared a look.

"Oh, no," Emma said. "I'm going to go to the bookstore, find myself a book, have some coffee, and relax. I'll see all of you later," and with that, she was off.

"Scaredy cat!" Chuck yelled after her. She just waved and kept walking. Chuck looked down at Molly. "You owe me," he said in a deep voice."

"Okay," she answered in the same type. They went to the car, piled in, buckled up, and took off. As they pulled away, a man walked out of the woods and stared after them.

"Chuck…Sarah…kids…who knew?" Bryce said, shrugged, and went back to waiting for his contact.

}o{

Chuck and Sarah drug the kids in a few hours later, to the smell of something delicious.

"I may be a scaredy cat, but I'm in better shape than you two," Emma said after one look at them.

"There was a birthday party," Chuck said.

"She was four," Sarah said, still looking to be in shock. "There were twenty kids there, and the mothers, they just didn't care. They let them do whatever." She looked up at Emma. "I've started a revolution with a spoon, and this was scarier than that ever was.

"I thought it was a fork," Chuck said.

"That too, although the spoon was plastic." Chuck started at her.

"You are so amazing," he said grinning. Sarah smiled at him.

"You ought to see what I can do with a spork."

"Enough, take it to the bedroom," Emma teased. Sarah waggled her eyebrows at Chuck. Chuck looked down, and Molly was asleep on the floor. Emma walked over, took Clara, who was nearly out as well, and took her upstairs.

"I'll bathe her," Chuck said, looking down at Molly.

"I got it," Sarah said smiling. "Molly, come on," she said, half dragging her upstairs. Chuck went upstairs, and took a long hot shower. He changed, went and found Clara, and read her a story as she fell asleep in his arms. Before he finished, Molly and Sarah came in. Molly had on her PJs, kissed Sarah, walked over, demanded a good night kiss, which Chuck gave to her before she beat him up, climbed into bed, and was out like a light. Chuck kissed Clara on the head, started to get up, when Sarah took her from him. She held her for a minute, kissed Clara goodnight, and tucked her into her crib. They walked out and started down the hall.

"We're going to have to get Clara a new toddler bed," Chuck said. Sarah nodded, grabbed Chuck, and pulled him into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. "Private discussion?"

"Something like that," she said, slowly walking towards him.

"Sarah, we do this, and every single part of our life is tied together."

"Promise?" Chuck gulped. "Chuck, shut up and kiss me." Chuck was always told to be a gentleman, so he did exactly as his lady told him. A few minutes later he found himself out of breath and on the bed, with Sarah giving him a look like she was a starving lioness and he was a five-course meal.

"Are you sure about this?" Chuck asked. Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Hear me out. If we do this, then every part of our life is entangled in each other. There is no you and I, it's we on everything, and Sarah, I am done. I am done with ever trying to not be with you, Molly, or our family. Sarah, I want this, but if you don't then right now, I need you to tell me, because I'm not strong enough to say no." Sarah grinned at him, and kissed his jaw.

"You never did shave the past few days," she said. Chuck was having a hard time forming a coherent thought.

"Been a bit busy being sick and stuff," Chuck replied. She made his way up to his ear.

"You're saying if we do this, there's no turning back?"

"Uh-huh," he managed to mumble out.

"Good," she whispered. "Now if I hear one more word about not wanting to, I'm going to be very upset. Understand?" Chuck nodded. He appeared to want to say something.

"I love you, Sarah," Chuck said, and caught her by surprise by kissing her where her shoulder and jaw met.

"You're going to pay for that, Chuck," Sarah said, nearly losing the ability to speak herself. She looked at Chuck, his eyes dancing.

"Promise?"

"Promise," she said, and he did.

A/N: I hope you all get to see Star Wars this weekend! Next time, work stuff, and birthday party planning. See you soon.

DC

[unstablemonstrosities]

Juliette Solo V

Trigger Warnings: Self-harm, Gore.

Juliette was used to being home alone.

She’d been reliant and trustworthy enough for that since she was twelve years old. Her parents hadn’t left her overnight until she was sixteen, but they’d been gone out enough to show that she had their trust not to destroy the house. It wasn’t unfamiliar territory to be alone at all really. Most of the times she was alone. Even though she kept her self-harm a secret, she was still one of the outcasts in school.

Yesterday afternoon was when her parents had left fort their trip to New York. It was a two day trip, they’d told her, a vacation for their anniversary. They had done it every year as far as she could remember. Before she could stay home alone during the nights they’d hired a sitter to look after her during their celebration. She never felt left out really from their celebrations, since her birthday was in such close quarters to the date, they often all celebrated the two occasions together with supper at a local restaurant.

This year it’d been her eighteenth birthday and their twenty second anniversary. She’d always been touched by her parent’s love, it was something so unique, and passionate that she always wished one day she’d have something like that. Part of her wondered if she’d ever meet someone like that, someone who would be there for her, through all of the craziness in her head.

She knew she wasn’t normal. Not by a long shot. But it felt normal. Despite her better thinking, her higher reasoning, when she hurt herself, when she felt even the slightest bit closer to death with the pain she caused, it felt right, like it was what she was meant to do somehow. Her parents didn’t know that much. She was careful, and had seen a lot of the kids at the school who suffered through their sadness cover their own marks.

She’d wear cardigans and long sleeves to hide the new marks, use make up to hide the old ones. Her parents were oblivious to it. A part of her was happy they were in the dark. As connected and spiritual as they were, they’d never quite understand why she did what she did. They’d take her to a hospital, to try and fix her. Yet another part of her felt dirty and dishonest. She’d almost always been like that, morally inclined. Keeping all the secrets were starting to weigh on her.

Hurting herself was one thing that made the factual side of her brain light up, but the secrets, well that made her start to descend into a new brand of self-hatred that she’d never faced quite so hard before. Despite what she did, she was mostly confident in herself, and in the decisions she made with her life. The insecurity, and the darkness and the sinking, churning pit of something, something she couldn’t quite identify hit her so suddenly lately she wasn’t sure what to do.

Or, she did to some degree. She knew the one thing that seemed to bring her clarity initially, even if there was confusion in the aftermath. The amount of times she sought the clarity through pain was becoming more frequent than ever recently. Only a few weeks apart. She felt like she was growing more and more desperate. With each pain she had to be closer to death each time to truly feel the clarity she sought out.

It’d been a week and a half since she’d last done it. The once red, jagged marks on the delicate, cream colored skin of her wrist had faded off once again into pale scars. Healing herself properly, with the proper antibacterial products and bandaging only meant they went away quicker. It wasn’t substantially better when she could look back on the wounds. In fact it often caused more of that churning darkness. But sometimes it would serve as a reminder, so she wouldn’t have to do it so soon again.

She’d been more on edge in the past few day, even had gotten to the point that she hadn’t gone to school the day before. It’d been the day her parents left, so she’d been able to use that as an excuse by saying that she’d wanted to spend time with them before they left. When in fact she’d spent most of the day in her room, trying to sleep away the day and her sour mood. It wasn’t like she’d miss too much at school. Fridays were always slow.

Today she knew what she had to do.

Once she’d been absolutely sure her parents weren’t going to sporadically return, it was around twelve o’clock AM, making it Sunday morning. She’d gotten everything ready. She’d laid out a towel on her bed. She’d gotten her disinfectant, the bandages she needed and finally she’d taken her hidden razor blades out from the secure hiding place she’d found.

Juliette glanced down at the silver unwrapped blade, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. A small part of her wished the breaths were to calm anxious nerves. In reality, her anxiety was only from…excitement. She hated that more than anything. The logical part of her brain was constantly reminding her it wasn’t normal. It reminded her that she was destroying herself. But that part of her that craved it, that felt it was normal was stronger.

It was the part of her that smothered the smaller, less dominant part by reaching for the silver blade, carefully pinching it between her thumb and pointer finger. She was carefully not to cut her fingertips on the sharp edge of the blade. Her hand shook slightly, once again, it was with that eerie anticipation. She turned her arm, curling her fist as she lowered the blade to her arm, pressing it into her delicate skin. The skin parted easily at the touch of the blade, the wound opening as she sliced across her arm. It wasn’t deep enough to hit the veins, but it was enough so that she could anchor herself to the pain.

One by one, a new cut opened on her arm, opening old scars that had faded from her wrist. It’d been a year since she’d started this habit, and there were plenty of pale faded scars, along with a few pinker newer ones. Soon she couldn’t see the scars at all, all she could see was crimson, dribbling down her wrist in uncoordinated lines at first. Soon they all blended together.

When she’d been satisfied with the amount of wounds she’d created, which was admittedly more than normal, she set the blade down, watching the crimson dribble from her arm and onto the towel she’d set out. Thick droplets of blood stained the towel one by one. She was so hypnotized by the scene, that she didn’t notice the pain at first. She didn’t notice the dizziness either.

When she finally did snap out of it long enough to realize she was dizzy from blood loss, for a second she didn’t want to stop. For a second those dark feelings, and the side that convinced her it was all normal merged. She suddenly felt as if this was right, as if this needed to happen. She could just go to sleep. It stalled her for another minute. For that minute she was ready to fade out. Part of her even wanted to pick up the blade and cut deeper, maybe she’d go faster then.

That minute ended.

A stunning clarity met her, every bit as alerting as if she’d been slapped across the face. The sting of what she was considering was just the same as if someone’s hand collided with her face. She quickly grasped the towel, wrapping it around her wrist. Even the motion of wrapping the towel made her dizzy. She wanted her head to stop spinning, but it didn’t seem to get the message on time. Looking at her hands, she could see that the crimson had stained them as well.

Desperately, with her hands shaking, this time not with anticipation, but from the fear of the harm she’d done to herself, she reached for her nightstand, for her cellphone. The smear of blood on her hand prevented her finger print from working to unlock it. She had to manually unlock it, only noticing the amount of time that’d passed through the crimson smear on the screen. Suddenly filled with terror, she opened up her dial pad and quickly called the emergency line.

“Emergency hotline, what’s your problem?” A woman’s voice answered. In a larger town, the dispatch might have asked her what targeted help she needed. This town was so small it was usually the police station working the jobs of firemen and EMT’s.

“I…I,” she hadn’t realized how hard it’d be to get the words out. Looking at her arm, seeing the blood not just staining her arms, but seeping through the material of her towel she realized she desperately needed help. “I hurt myself, I don’t know what to do. It’s bleeding so much. There’s so much blood. Help me, please,” her words came out in broken parts, slowly, and uncertainly. She was truly terrified.

“What’s your address?” The woman asked.

After shakily giving her address, she was assured help was on the way, and that she needed to keep pressure on her wounds until they arrived. Juliette pressed the towel on her arm, hearing the odd squishing noise of the liquid built up compressing. She felt a sickening wetness press against her hand and she knew she’d messed up badly.

She was trying to focus on keeping the pressure on her wounds, when it came to her in an almost hysterical after thought that the person wouldn’t be able to get in. Whoever was sent to get in couldn’t if the door was locked. Juliette stood up from the bed on quivering legs, stumbling her way out of her room, into the hallways. The hysterical state also seemed to dramatize how important it was to not stain the walls or the floors. Mother would be so angry.

She made it downstairs, but only halfway to the entrance before her shaking legs gave out from under her, causing her to fall to the ground with a rather harsh thump. Her emerald hues were a little blurry as she stared intently at the door, as if she could make it open just with a sheer force of will. Juliette’s grip loosened slightly on the towel, she felt weaker, and she didn’t feel like she could keep the pressure there properly.

Blinking a few times, the door finally opened. Not loudly, as if it was being busted open like in all the cop movies. It was more like someone had just unlocked it from the outside. Even in its addled state her mind was trying to figure out how it was being unlocked. There wasn’t any sort of large group raiding her house, just one guy.

“So this is the grand cavalry they send huh?” Juliette mused hysterically. Releasing something that sounded like a chuckle.

The man didn’t seem to be phased at all, even in her blurry view of him. In a second he was by her side, knelt down in front of her with what looked like the tool box her father had in the garage. She thought that was funny. Why would he have her father’s tool box?

“Can you hear me?” The voice, deep and obviously male sounded, concern laced in it.

“No, not at all,” she responded releasing one of those strangled laughs.

“I think you’re in shock. I need to stitch you up before I bring you to the hospital,” she immediately was flooded with awareness at that.

“No!” She jerked away. “No hospitals,” the awareness wasn’t complete. She felt like she didn’t have full access to her mind, but she knew she wasn’t going to be locked up in a hospital.

“Okay, it’s okay, just relax. No hospitals,” she wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not. But his voice was calm and gentle, she wanted to believe it. “Can I see your arm?”

Juliette forced her limb into awareness, pushing it forward so he had better access to it. It was still clad in the towel, though it was now sopping with her blood. With a careful, gentle touch, the towel was peeled away from her arm. There was a sharp pain met with that, as if a layer of skin was being pulled away. She winced slightly, but kept her arm extended.

It was turned, just slightly left, then right. The actions brought more pain. But with the pain came clarity, as much as she hated it. The part that told her this was normal no longer ruled. The part of her that wanted to live and fight was fully in control now. She was now fully surrounded by pictures of her family on the wall, and she knew she needed to live, if not for herself for them.

“What’s your name?” She was pulled back to the man in front of her. She was certain it was a technique to distract her from the burning pain radiating from her arm.

“Juliette,” her voice was shakier than she would have liked it, but she got out her name well enough.

“That’s a nice name. I’m Roland.” What an odd place for an introduction. She still managed to look at him instead of her arm. She knew looking at her arm would only strengthen the side of her fighting to convince her logic and reason it was normal.

“Hi Roland,” she whispered meekly, turning her head to face the wall.

“Hi,” when she glanced back briefly, she saw that for a second he was smiling at her. He was still blurry, but the corners of his lips made such a pretty smile she could notice. Everything seemed prettier in this blurry state. It was simple. Everything else was complicated, she always needed to know everything. Seeing everything in blurred figures was almost relieving.

The rest of the process was done in silence as he worked. She was working too, to fight the side of her that defied her logic. She was fragile enough as it was. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, not herself. Silently, she sat there, battling her own demons as the man who’d come to help her did his part in helping fight them away.

Soon it was over. The minutes of fighting the suppressed desire passed like hours, but soon, her arm once clad in a towel seeping with crimson was clad in pure white bandages. Her arm felt funny. Not quite numb, but as if it’d fallen asleep and was tingling as if it was just starting to awaken.

“Can you stand?” She looked to the man, seeing his face a bit more clearly now. Not quite crisply clear, but enough that she could pick out the shade of his eyes. It was similar to hers, a shade of emerald.

She nodded, and he was arising from his crouch, wrapping her good arm around his neck. When he started to lead her to the door, even on her shaky legs she knew there was no way she was going to the hospital. She quickly, and clumsily, turned on her heel to go to the dining room. “You promised no hospitals,” she muttered.

“I have to take you to the hospital and call your parents,” the man explained rather matter of factly, but also with a conviction that told her he had a strong set of morals guiding his actions.

“I’m eighteen,” she followed it up by quoting the exact law on the medical consent release of information that she’d memorized from one of her early law textbooks. The man seemed impressed, for a second, maybe stunned.

“Come on, let’s sit you down for a minute,” he said instead of fighting after that shocked minute of silence.

He led Juliette to the dining room table, going at a pace that almost seemed restraining on his part. She didn’t worry she’d fall once. He was sturdy. She was absolutely sure that he had her. When she got to the seat, she was blissfully able to sit down. Even though the chair was hard, it had more support than the floor.

“Do you have a bottle of water? You need to replace your fluids,” the man said sheepishly, as if he felt bad about inquiring the place of something as simple as water. He had to be new. Most people in the town would have rooted around in the fridge by now.

“In the fridge, there’s a couple there,” she commented, slumping into the support of the backing of the chair. After he’d opened the fridge door, once again looking painfully uncomfortable with it, he brought the bottle back to her and set it down before sitting in the seat across the table from her. She opened the bottle, taking a tentative sip.

“Does your arm feel okay, bandages too tight?” Once again, he seemed absolutely concerned. She shook her head a little, offering a tired smile.

“They’re fine,” she commented, unable to help but be a little amused by his over-concern.

“So why won’t you let me take you to the hospital?” She knew the subject was going to turn up again, but she couldn’t help but sigh a little.

“My parents don’t need the stress,” she commented, trying her best to brush him off.

“You mean they don’t know,” he inquired. Damn he was good. She wasn’t sure whether she should be impressed or unamused with his accurate guess.

“They don’t need to, I’m fine,” she commented simply, shrugging her shoulders, even though it caused a lancing pain in her arm. One she promptly ignored.

“You don’t need to be fine for everyone else all the time you know,” his voice was soft, gentle, as if it was supposed to soften the blow that came with the truth of his words. She wasn’t sure someone had ever matched her in her perceptive nature so quickly.

“Maybe I’m fine for me,” she commented stiffly, brushing off his words verbally, although they’d already stuck in her mind.

“Well, I’m sure even if you aren’t right now, you will be,” he assured her, and for a second she felt incredibly safe. Just a passing, reassuring second.

“How do you know?” She asked carefully.

“You’re strong, I can tell,” he offered that smile once more, the same reassuring one he had when he’d been bandaging her arm, though now she could see it much more clearly. With a small twitch of her lips, she gave a tentative smile back.

[reggiewilde]

One rainy Monday night...

So this is something I never thought I would find myself doing - writing. But as it turns out I have too much free time and struggling with finding ways of spending it. This story follows Reggie on one of his regular dealings that goes a little off track, so he is forced to run from the ZPD. This takes him into a caffe where he spots a familiar face.

It was a rainy Monday night around 11 p.m. and Reggie was just walking down the sidewalk not being bothered by the rain too much. The city lights shone bright as the fox rounded the corner of Pack street, into a shady looking alleyway. There stood a hooded figure, leaning to the wall. "You're late..." he said. Reggie simply shrugged at the jackal and gave him a smile. "Im terribly sorry buddy, but a black cat crossed my path so i had to take the long way."

The jackal pulled back his hood and looked at him annoyed "Mhmm, was it the same one as yesterday or the day before that? You know what, never mind. Here." The jackal slapped a wad of cash into the foxes hands. Reggie started counting the money. As he was counting the money the jackal started to speak "You know we should really be more cautious about how we deal with the shipments. Silas almost got caught today... The cops are everywhere, I belive someone tipped them off on our little operation."

Reggie quickly finished counting the money, pushed it into his pocket, then gave the jackal an amused look. "Now, you're just being paran-" as he was about to finish his sentence a sound of a police siren interrupted him. He turned around and saw a ZPD cruiser blocking off the alleyway, the officers inside already getting out of the vehicles and running down the dark alleyway shouting for the two to freeze. Reggie turned around and saw the jackal already bolted it further down the alley. He was quick to follow. They were being chased on foot as they ran down the many dark alleyways jumping over dumpsters and trash bags that were scattered all over the ground. They ran out of the alleyway on to the sidewalk of the main street and into a small cafe a little down the street. Sitting down at one of the tables at the window completely out of breath the jackal said "fuck, fuck, fuck they must have been following us." sounding completely out of breath.

Reggie also trying to catch his breath said nothing, only staring out of the window. "Hey! Are you listening?! What are we gonna do?!" hissed the jackal. Reggie whispered "Well, Ryan, you can begin by calming down and not making a scene" still looking outside the window, studying the street outside.

Just then the waitress came up to their table. She was a badger wearing some denim jeans and a green T-shirt. "Good evenin, what can I get for ya?" "Just bring us two caffè macchiatos to go." said Reggie, before the jackal even had time to react. Just as she left, Reggie turned his attention back to the street and noticed a ZPD cruiser slowly creeping up to the cafe and stopping just outside of it. Ryan noticed it too and already started getting up no doubt prepared to start running again. Reggie turned his attention to him. "Sit." He said it the most commanding yet calm voice he could muster. To his relief the jackal sat back down, looking around nervously while Reggie distracted himself with his phone. Just as the door to the cafe swung open the waitress came over to their table with their drinks so neither of them managed to get a look at who had just entered the cafe. The waitress placed the drinks on the table and as she left, Reggie saw the two mammals that had entered the cafe. A bunny and a fox, both ZPD officers as he had seen their uniforms. "Well, well, well... who would've thought?" said Reggie a hint of a smile creeping onto his face as he looked over at Ryan. "What?" said Ryan nervously eyeing the two ZPD officers that have just taken a seat two tables away from them. "I think this is our lucky day." Said Reggie with a smirk on his face. "Lucky day?! We almost got arrested! Whats the matter with you?" Ryan angrily whispered.

Reggie slapped down a twenty on the table and picked up his coffee. "This is for the coffee. You can keep the rest." "Wilde? What are you thinking?!" Ryan hissed as he looked up at him. Reggie only gave him a smug smile and turned to walk towards the ZPD officers. Ryan grabbed his arm and stopped him causing him to almost spill his coffee. "Are you crazy?! We're wanted! Its lucky enough those two didn’t notice us!” he said looking over at the two officers that were seating just two tables away. “We should get out of here while we have the chance!"

Reggie rolled his eyes to the side "We're not wanted. How much you wanna bet those cops chasing us only stopped by chance seeing two shifty looking mammals at night in a dark alleyway doing god knows what."

"Regg-" Ryan began but was quickly cut off again by Reggie. "Besides even if they would have called it in what would they say? It was dark and even if they saw us, at that distance we would have only looked like silhouettes. So what would their description of us be? A hooded figure and possibly a fox? Yeah I bet that narrows it down." Reggie shot him a smirk as he got up again.

"You're forgetting, this is Zootopia. Lots of mammals live around here." Reggie looked up at the table with the two ZPD officers. Ryan looked away and turned his attention to the street outside. “Smartass...” he mumbled. Reggie straightened his shirt. "Now then... I'm curious... Just how much heat have I got on me." He said as he headed for the ZPD officers.

So yeah thats about it. You guys let me know what you think. If I get enough feedback on this I might just consider getting off my lazy ass and take up writing. Cheers.