#like a sirens call except there is a lot more yelling involved . . .

[thewhitejournal]

kind words .

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader oneshot

request: Hi, I was wondering if you could write an Aaron Hotch x shy reader where Hotch is always careful and gentle around the reader, but one day he yells at her in the middle of talking (maybe she messed up on the case) and she immediately shuts up and won't look at him bc it scared her so bad? If that makes sense.

alright @lovely-lady-lumps , this one is for you! i really hope that you like it and that it lives up to your expectations.

like and reblog if you liked it! :)

content warnings: angst, cursing, talk of murder/crime/violence

The team stood around in the large and finely decorated dining room of the Peterson’s home. They were waiting on a call from the unsub, as it was in his M.O. to do so. The daughter, Kelly, of James and Miranda, had been kidnapped. She was only seventeen, and as with most cases involving kidnapped children, time is of the essence.

Emily and JJ were comforting the parents in the nearby living room; they were both too distraught to pick up the phone when the unsub called. You were the unsub’s type, a younger, innocent-sounding girl. As the new agent trainee of the BAU, there were a lot of learning experiences for you to have. This was one of them. Hotch had so much faith in you that you could handle this case, even though it was one of the more emotional ones.

It would be a lie to try and say Aaron Hotchner didn't make a lasting first impression on you the first day you met him. You had to be interviewed by him to join the BAU. It was one of the most nerve-wracking days of your life

You took a shaky breath as you stepped out of the elevator, walking into the room you would soon learn to be was called the bullpen, where all the other agents sat. You could feel every pair of eyes in the room on you, piercing through your skin like needles. You moved your feet with care up the stairs so as to not trip, like it was your first time walking up a set of them.

Agent Aaron Hotchner’s office was only a couple paces away now. Sure, you've had interviews before, but this one was different. This interview would decide the fate of your career for the rest of your life. Not to mention you'd heard plenty about the man conducting it; he was stern, strict, not to be messed with. He was a fearless leader and wouldn't take anyone’s shit. You'd even heard once that a bullet was fired right past his head at gunpoint and he didn't even flinch. Your anxiety and nerves were riding higher than ever.

Your knuckles rapped softly on the wooden door. ”Come in.”, you heard his voice sound from inside. Your breath shook as you exhaled and your shaky hand turned the knob, pushing the door open into his office. It was minimally decorated, and that's an overstatement. He had only a few personal items on his desk; pictures of him and what you assumed to be his son. He had a huge smile on his face, holding the child in his arms. The boy wore a soccer jersey and a smile to rival his father’s.

Agent Hotchner stood to greet you. Immediately you were intimidated by his height and overall presence. His hand was huge compared to yours, and warm in a comforting way. He gave you a small smile while shaking your hand, which made you feel a little better. ”Please, have a seat.” He said, gesturing to one of the leather armchairs that sat in front of his desk. You did as you were told.

The rest of the interview went smoothly, other than of course your occasional slip-up and stutter. But Hotch, which he said you could call him, always comforted you and spoke in a low, soft, gentle tone. This was the last thing you expected from a man like him.

Ever since then, he's always been so kind and helpful to you. How could you not fall for a man like that? Oh did you fall, hard and fast. The whole team certainly knew, but you weren't sure he did. They are all profilers after all. Prentiss, Garcia and JJ would lovingly tease you about him and always asked if either of you had made a move yet.

The answer was always ’no’; he was your superior in many ways, and you weren't even on the team officially. Reid and Morgan acted like a mix between older brothers and guys that still wanted you but knew Hotch had your heart, so they didn't dare overstep any boundaries. Rossi of course was like your father, advising you to be careful but that he would certainly make sure Aaron would never be found again if he hurt you. You knew it was all jokingly...hopefully.

Aaron stood over you, along with Rossi, Morgan, and Reid in the room. You let out a small, shaky breath as you waited for the phone call that should be coming any minute. You felt Aaron’s hand rest softly on your shoulder. He didn't say anything, but the gesture meant a million words. ”You can do this, (Y/N). I'm right here.” You could almost hear him whispering it into your ear.

The phone rang. The room was silent; all eyes were on you. A shaky breath escaped your lips, and you turned to look up at Aaron. His light brown eyes searched your face, dark brows furrowed as he tried to read your mind. With his job, it was almost entirely possible. He gave you a small nod; you took that as a sign to pick up the phone. You gathered as much courage as you could and pressed the button to answer it.

”Mmm...Miranda, my compliments to the chef. She takes right after you, curves in all the right places except even juicer...” The distorted voice filled the room. You cleared your throat.

”This is Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N) with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Can Kelly come home, please?” You tried to sound as innocent as possible. Aaron’s hand squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, then his hand fell to his side. You had to speak in a way that would praise the unsub, say what he wanted to hear. He was a dominant sexual sadist; pleasing the unsub was the only way to get Kelly back to her family.

”And how old are you, young lady?” You cringed at the way he said it, but you kept your composure.

”25, sir.” He groaned at this.

”Sounds like a fair trade to me. Tell me (Y/N), what are you wearing?” Unbeknownst to you, Aaron was fuming. He hated hearing someone talk to you like that. He wanted so badly to intervene, tell the unsub to shut the hell up. But the case depended on this ruse.

”A white blouse. Your turn.” You yourself were starting to get angry. All you wanted was to help get this family back together, but it felt like you weren't getting anywhere.

”Nothing but a smile, darling.”

”Kelly’s mom and dad really miss her. Can she come home?” The innocent tone returned to your voice. A deep and distorted chuckle came from the other end of the line.

”No, no. I think I’ll keep her a little while longer. You should come and join us though. You sound like you'd be a lot of fun.”

Your blood was boiling, anger was clouding your mind. Tears were pushing against your water line, a few making it down your cheeks. You were biting your lip so hard you thought it might bleed. Word vomit was bubbling up inside you, and as bad as you wanted to control it, it all came spilling out.

”How could you do this to such a loving family, you sick fucking psychopath? What the hell is wrong with you, you freak? Can't you see the pain you've caused this family?” Even more tears spilled onto your face, and your fingernails dug into the palms of your hand, knuckles so white they envied the walls. The unsub scoffed from the other end, there was a scream heard, and then silence as the line went dead. Reid and Morgan looked at you with widened eyes. Rossi looked almost proud. You could see Hotch shaking his head in your peripheral vision, pinching the bridge of his nose. Your stomach sank. You knew you’d messed up, and it hurt you to know you probably let Hotch down. That was the last thing you ever wanted to do.

Garcia called Morgan’s phone, and he answered it quickly. “Hey, baby girl. Tell us you got something.” He immediately put her on speaker.

“I traced the call. I’m sending everyone the location.”

“Thanks, baby.” Morgan hung up the phone and shared a look with everyone in the room, including you. You saw Hotch motion them on out of the corner of your eye, but Morgan held his hand up at Hotch for some reason. You felt Hotch’s hand clasp your shoulder, and you looked up at him. His face was stern and hard like stone.

“I’m going to talk to you when we get back.” He said in a harsh tone, with a voice full of anger. You watched him hurry off out the door and heard the SUV’s sirens turn on and they all pulled away. You hadn’t even noticed Morgan didn’t follow the rest of the team out the door, not until he pulled a chair out from the table and flipped it to where his chest met the back of the chair. His arms folded over each other, resting on the chair. He sighed. You turned your head to look at him; with this motion, tears you didn’t even know had formed fell on to your cheeks.

“Morgan, I-“, your voice broke. You loved Aaron, all the stolen looks and little kind gestures. You didn’t care if it was inappropriate to say so, it was the truth. One thing you never wanted to do was disappoint him, but it seems you’ve done just that.

“(Y/L/N), it’s okay. Not everyone on this team is perfect, including Hotch. I know you’re not even on the team yet, but there’s no way he’s gonna let you go. Do you know why?” You didn’t answer; you figured he was going to tell you why anyway.

“Because you’re one of the most talented little profilers I’ve ever met.”, he continued. “You’re kind and smart and you’re damn good at this job. We’ve all made mistakes, but that doesn’t mean we’re not good at what we do. Garcia found the location of the call, they will find her. It’ll be okay, (Y/N).”

You sighed, wiping the tears from your cheeks. You wanted to believe that, but it wasn’t a guarantee. Morgan got up and motioned you to do the same. He pulled you into his strong arms, and it took every ounce of energy you had not to break down and start sobbing into his t-shirt. Your arms wrapped around his back and you squeezed his body.

“Thank you, Derek.” You muttered. He didn’t respond; his lips placed a quick kiss to the top of your head. He gave you a ride back to the police station, where the team would eventually end up. The family followed suit.

The unsub was caught and arrested. You heard a commotion coming from outside; it was the press, trying to get pictures and interviews from the team, per the usual. You looked up to see Aaron walking through the door with the rest of the team, with the unsub in handcuffs, pushing him towards a holding cell. The unsub looked over at you, did a once over of your body, and winked at you. Aaron noticed this and shoved him along a little more forcefully. The action made your heart flutter a little.

JJ went over to the family and told them their daughter was in the hospital and that she was going to be okay. They cried and hugged and thanked her. Hotch came back from disposing of the unsub to the local police, along with a couple of members of the team. “Great work guys. Wheels up in thirty.”, he told them. His eyes met yours, and he gestured with his head to one of the empty detective’s offices. You got up and followed him, watching your feet the whole way. Even when you went into the room and shut the door behind you, everything in the office seemed a lot more interesting than looking at Aaron. The blinds were shut and the room was dark, save for a desk lamp.

“(Y/L/N), the way you handled that phone call was unacceptable. The entire case could’ve been compromised and that girl could’ve died! What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stick to a script, tell the unsub what he wanted to hear. Was that not clear enough for you?” His voice rang out through the empty office, bouncing off the walls and coming back to hit you in the chest. You wouldn’t look at him. Your throat hurt, and tears fell on to your cheeks. You had one arm across your chest and the other propped up on it, fist under your chin.

“(Y/N), say something.” His tone seemed a bit softer now. His hand reached out to rest on your arm, but you shrugged him off. He sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I can’t be mad at you for getting emotional over this case, and this was a win for us anyway.” Your eyes finally met his.

His eyes were the soft, light brown that you loved. His lips were pressed into a thin line, apologetically you had to assume. You wanted to kiss him, but you knew that would be an overstep to your boundaries as a new agent trainee. His eyes flickered around your face, trying to read your emotions.

“Are you okay?” You nodded. He nodded back, in understanding. The tension in the air was so thick; you could hear your pulse in your ears and butterflies fought each other in your stomach. You were still looking at him, taking in every little detail of his face. He muttered for you to come here. You hesitated at first but stepped towards him. He pulled you into a hug, and you rested your head on his chest, taking in the moment along with a deep breath. He smelled almost like vanilla and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His heart was pounding in his chest, which quite surprised you. You’d think he would be calm.

You pulled away from his chest, still in his arms. You could swear his eyes looked darker. Maybe it was his intoxicating smell or the fact that the room was spinning already, but you could’ve sworn he leaned into you. You copied his motion, lips only centimeters apart now. Blood rushed to your cheeks, making them feel hot. He closed the gap, kissing you gently. He pulled your body closer to his; you were now chest to chest. Your arms snaked up his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

The kiss deepened, and you heard him sigh; not one of annoyance, but one of happiness. He slowly pulled back from you, but didn’t meet your eyes. “(Y/N), I’m sorry, that was...unprofessional of me and-“ You silenced him by placing your lips on his again for a brief moment.

“I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time.” You both smiled at each other, lips meeting again. The team was probably getting impatient, but neither of you cared. Everyone won tonight.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

A New Adventure - Pt. 6

You put the scared people in, you put the scared people out 

(Author’s note: I realize that I wrote a very similar piece to this a couple months ago, but this series is based on events of daily life and seeing as this happened to me in March and it’s a good segway for what I have planned, it works. Note that while I am using some current events, like Covid, I will NOT include the riots happening now. Not because I don’t care, but because I do NOT want to have politics involved in my art. If that upsets you, feel free to keep your opinions to yourself.) 

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You’ve been stuck home in quarantine for nearly a week now. The change is a partial relief because you’ve honestly been needing a break, to recharge yourself (along with the rest of the world, it seems). You have a few plans around the house that you can focus on now. 

Arthur seems happy to have you around full-time now. He admits it’s been lonely for him in this confusing world and it’ll be nice to have a companion he can actually have a conversation with. He doesn’t tell you that he’s ecstatic to have you around now and he’s curious to see what people do in this situation. 

This situation is a new learning experience for both you and him. Of course, one of the first things you learn is exactly how selfish people can be. The first time you went to the grocery store after quarantine began, it was hard to shop because so many shelves were cleaned out. Toilet paper, gone. Noodles of all varieties, gone. Cereals, gone. Coffee, gone. Bread, gone (except the gluten-free stuff, you noticed). 

Luckily, Arthur, who goes with you to nearly every shopping visit, has a few suggestions on alternatives. He learned enough about substitutions out in the wild, having to collect his own food on more than one occasion. 

You're quite bummed when you got to the noodle section to find all the spaghetti noodles gone. You’d really been wanting to make some for him, knowing he’d been quite curious about it in the game when Jack was rescued. 

Mostly though, you’re just glad you have enough toilet papers to last a few more weeks, when hopefully things have calmed down. 

Three days after your first shopping trip of quarantine, you’re sitting on the couch, eating breakfast and watching Youtube on your laptop. It’s still dark out, but it always is this early in the middle of March. 

Arthur’s still in bed, he usually doesn’t wake up until the sun rises. A result of living so much of his life with the movements of the sun. From what you understand, most people during his life period lived that way and, despite being an outlaw, he is no exception. 

Sage is lying down at your feet, having just finished her own breakfast. Her head suddenly comes up and she tips her head as if listening to something. She lets out her alarm bark. 

“What is it, Sage? Some dude walking down the street again?” 

Suddenly there’s a loud rumbling. It sounds like a semi going down the highway not too far from your house. But after a few seconds, it gets louder and louder, almost deafening. Then the shaking starts. 

In the darkened room, you feel the floor beneath you shake as the air is filled with a roar like thunder that goes on for far too long. Something crashes to the floor in your bedroom and you watch your bookshelf full of DVDs sway ominously back and forth, threatening to dump its contents. The kitchen light goes off, along with the rest of the power. 

Your heart in your throat, you look around and involuntarily let out a low scream. Arthur’s bedroom door flies open and he comes out, despite the swaying, yelling your name. 

As quickly as the shaking began, it stops. Your left in the darkness, visibly shaking and terrified. You look at Arthur, your mouth in an “o” shape. 

“What… what the hell was that?” he says, swallowing. 

“I think it was an earthquake,” you say, noting how weak and frightened you sound. 

You take your phone out and turn on the flashlight. You’ve never experienced an earthquake before, despite the threat you’ve heard of your whole life of what locals call “the big one”, an earthquake that’s supposedly overdue by about 10,000 years and is supposed to be so large it will almost immediately affect the topography of the state. Although this was not big enough to be “the big one”, it was frightening. 

Just as you make your shaky way over to Arthur, feeling nervous, the shaking starts again. You scream again and dash beneath the nearest doorframe, Arthur following in your wake. 

If the situation wasn’t so new and frightening, you’d be incredibly embarrassed at the closeness between you and Arthur, but all you can focus on is how long will this last? 

This period is much shorter than the last. The beam from your phone shakes along the floor, a result of your hand. 

Arthur sighs and looks down at you. “You okay? I never… never experienced nothin’ like that.” 

“Me neither. I don’t… I… ah!” You let out a scream again as your phone lets out a deafening buzz. You look at the screen.

It reads: 5.7 Earthquake reported at 7:09 am 4 kilometers from your house. That’s only 2 miles away! You’re practically in the epicenter. 

You tell Arthur this, but he clearly doesn’t really understand how that information was received so quickly. Your brain isn’t functioning well enough to explain geology to him right now.

“I… I think we need to check the house. Will you help me?” you ask. 

Arthur agrees and you tell him to take a flashlight you have and just check for cracks along the walls and ceilings. Luckily, despite your house being old, it’s built strong and durable. That shows today as there’s only a tiny little crack above your fridge where there’d been some water damage years previously. 

Arthur tells you he found nothing, but then your heart drops. “Arthur, we have to go down in the basement. Make sure the furnace and water pipes are okay.” 

He nods resolutely. Of course, he’s the bravest man you know, so you hope you can lean on him for courage. 

Just as you’re both about to go down, another ripple of shaking goes through the house. Arthur looks around and, despite your thoughts, he looks nervous. 

“Y/N, maybe we oughta wait a bit. This don’t seem safe.” 

You nod, not wanting to do this, but also knowing that if there’s a ruptured pipe or your furnace is broke, you’re in big trouble. But at the same time, it’s safer to remain here until the aftershocks begin to settle down. 

15 minutes go by of silence, although you hear a multitude of sirens and another alarm buzz goes off, warning residents in your neighborhoods to stay sheltered and off the roads for emergency vehicles. 

You feel confident enough to go into the basement and just make sure nothing’s ruined. Your basement isn’t that big, you tell Arthur, and it’ll only take a couple of minutes. 

He reluctantly agrees. A few minutes later, you both come up from the basement, feeling a bit better as there is no damage aside from a shallow crack along your foundation. 

A quick check outside proves your gas meter has held just fine, even though it’s moved away from your house after a couple of seconds. 

You check your phone again, looking once again for more updates. You’re not having much luck though as the internet and cell service is down. You wonder if the quake messed up the cell tower. 

After a while, you and Arthur settle down on the couches, waiting to hear anything. Another big aftershock sends you scurrying for the doorframe. As your house shakes and you hear that unpleasantly familiar boom like thunder, you feel on the verge of tears. 

When this round stops, Arthur suggests you all sit in a room where it’ll likely be safe, somewhere close to the door in case you need to make a quick escape. 

You decide on the kitchen, not knowing it’s reported to be the worst place in a house to shelter. It’s close to the backdoor and Sage is already in there, cowering and whimpering under the table. You go and sit on the cold tile floor next to the table where you can be close to her. Arthur sits by the stove. 

You don’t know how much time goes by, but it doesn’t take long for you to get cold. Without any power, the heater isn’t on, and it’s only mid-March. You’re lucky if it gets up to 65 degrees (F) outside. 

Arthur gets up, without a word. Figuring he just needs to pee, you don’t say anything. A minute later, though, he comes out with the big comforter from his bed. 

“Here,” he says. “Been watchin’ ya shiver for the last half hour.” 

He wraps the blanket around you. Sure, you have been shaking, but more from shock than the cold. He sits down a few inches away from you. If he’s shivering, you can’t see him, but he is fumbling with his hands a lot. 

Just as you’re beginning to relax and think the worst might be over, you hear that rumble again. You shoot up and scramble for the doorframe as the shaking begins once more. You feel your last nerve break, and so you put your hands over your ears, bend over a little bit and try to stifle the sob that’s threatening to erupt from your throat. 

Suddenly you feel something hot and firm pressing into you, enfolding you. What feels like a hand presses to the back of your head, holding your head against the structure. You feel the soft, scratchy fabric against your skin and clench your hand around it. A loud pounding beats in your ear, but it’s probably just your own heart. 

The shaking vanishes, leaving you frightened again with tears leaking from your cheeks. 

“I got ya, it’s okay,” Arthur’s soft, rough voice says. The structure you’re leaning against vibrates with his voice. It makes you open your eyes.

The first thing you see is Arthur’s dark gray union suit, which is what you’re clenching. It then hits you like a freight train that the thing you’re leaning against is him. 

“Oh, sorry, Arthur. I wasn’t aware I grabbed you,” you say, starting to lean back. 

“No, you didn’t, I grabbed ya. Can just tell you’re at the end of your tether. I am too, if I’m honest.” 

He gently pulls you back to him, clearly enjoying your warmth and the feeling of you against him as much as you’re enjoying his. He feels sturdy and strong, capable of supporting you while your legs feel like jelly. 

After a few minutes with no shaking, you both feel confident enough to go and sit back down in the kitchen with the trembling Sage. Arthur stays close to you now.

A few more small aftershocks rumble through and every time, Arthur is there to offer you his arms. At one point, there’s four aftershocks in the span of twenty minutes, resulting in you just sitting in between his legs, tucked into his chest. He grabbed the comforter a while back, folding it around the both of you to keep warm. 

A few hours have gone by and the power flicks back on. It’s been surprisingly quiet, with only a couple of tiny aftershocks. You’ve been keeping an eye on the US Geo Survey, and the biggest quake in the last 3 hours was a 2.7. 

By this time, you and Arthur feel safe enough to retreat to the living room and onto the couches. He stays on the same couch as you, staying close. Maybe he feels just as comforted by your presence as you do by his. 

By the time you’d normally be getting dinner started, you’re both exhausted from the constant dashing to doorframes and the never-ending worry. Neither of you are really hungry enough for a regular meal, so you and Arthur just fix up some sandwiches and cut up some fruit. 

Nightfall and you decide to go and try to sleep, even though you’re sure you won’t really get much. Just as Arthur opens up his door to his room, you stop him, feeling afraid of what might happen tonight. There’s still been plenty of aftershocks. 

“Arthur, will… will you stay with me tonight?” 

He sighs, as though relieved. 

“Of course.” 

You lay down on one side of your bed and he takes the other. Another large but very brief aftershock goes through your house, making you sit up. Arthur puts his hand on your shoulder and you take the invite to lay against him for comfort. 

You hear the steady thumping of his heart, which helps lull you to sleep. 

The last thing you think before drifting off is that, whatever happens after tonight, nothing between you and Arthur will ever be the same again. 

[the-delta-42]

Rule of Precinct One Vol. 2

Rules of Precinct One Vol. 2

1. Detective Wilde has been authorized for use with all firearm ballistics, don’t ask how, we’re trying to figure that out ourselves.

2. Detective Wilde has been banned from use of all non-firearm weapons; we are running out of tail splints.

3. Detective Wilde is now required to wear a tail guard on duty, we really don’t need to go to hospital to get the damned thing reattached.

4. Do not underestimate Detective Wilde's ability to harm his own tail, seriously, don’t.

5. Detective Wilde is to stop stealing balls from the sports cupboard, we can’t get his wife to retrieve the balls every time.

6. Detective Wilde and Detective Hopps-Wilde are no longer allowed to take the nightshift together, I’m sure you can figure out why.

7. Whoever took the donuts from Clawhauser, well done, he’s supposed to be on a diet.

8. Do not make Box or Funny jokes with Detective Hopps-Wilde, we don’t need to find out that a Rabbit can actually go savage.

9. No stating Detective Wilde’s full name, there is a reason he dropped the John.

10. No asking why Detective Wilde’s father calls him Junior, at all.

11. Never, EVER suggest, imply, or otherwise insinuate that Officer Wilde is capable, or indeed, talented, at cheating at cards, in front of Officer Hoops. This will not end well.

12. Do not attempt to play cards with Officer Wilde. This includes Black Jack, Three Card Monty, and All forms of Poker

13. Amendment to the above: Cheat, Go Fish, and Snap are not excluded from this, on account of not traditionally being betting games. You may think that will prevent you from losing money. This will not prevent you from losing money.

14. A reminder to all Officers, Officers Schneider and Wilde are not to be in the same room together especially if they're both armed.

15. Whenever Detective Wilde is entering the station don't yell out "The British are coming!" Officer Fangmeyer is still recovering from broken ribs.

16. Reminder to all officers, trying to scare Detective’s Wilde and Hopps is generally a bad idea.

17. Reminder to all Officers, posting photos of new equipment on Furbook is now banned.

18. Don't EVER put a muzzle on Detective Wilde's office desk. Whoever did it, I hope you’re happy that he has to now spend a week in therapy. Seriously, we don’t need one of our best Detectives going into shock.

19. Do not, under any circumstance, show Detective Hopps anything Creepypasta related. The last time she saw Jeff the Kitty, she refused to let go of Detective Wilde until he passed out.

20. No one is allowed to use the Ion Cannon in storage. We don’t know what it does or why it’s there.

21. To all officers, stop trying to setup Chief Bogo with another mammal. Last time we had to rescue him from a cross dressing tiger and his friends.

22. Clawhauser is to stop playing matchmaker. It did well with Hopps and Wilde but not so good with others. See previous rule for proof.

23. Detective Wilde is not allowed to pick the movies on Movie Friday anymore. Many are still in trauma counselling.

24. Detective Wilde is not allowed to sing Happy, it caused every Officers in the station to break out dancing.

25. No one is allowed to play the Police Story Movie Series in the station, except on Movie Friday.

26. No one is to play the British Grenadiers within Detective Wilde's hearing distance, he may be an excellent singer, but it does get annoying.

27. All Officer patrolling the slums must wear a stab proof vest. We don’t need another incident where Detective Hopps-Wilde nearly became a Widow.

28. FOR THE LOVE OF ASLAN DON'T PLAY WITH Detective WILDE'S POISON CONTAINER FROM THE SAS.

29. Who played with Detective Wilde's EMP Grenades again? All the Police Cruiser's electronics are fried.

30. All Narcotics Operations are to be jointly operated with the ZDEA, not go out and do an Anti-Drug War with the Cartel, Detective Wilde was spotted wearing Combat Gear with an M4 during one of the Raids.

31. No matter what, Detective Wilde is not to be disturb during his investigation unless it's important.

32. Stop telling the Rookies that Detective Wilde is James Bond.

33. Who gave Wilde military grade super glue?! He somehow glued his tail to the ceiling of the station and it took a long time to get him down!

34. We all know you like Guns N Rodents, Detective Hopps, but whenever you're entering the Rainforest District don't play "Welcome to the Jungle" through the sirens. Same goes for any officers.

35. If you have a backstage pass to a Gazelle concert, make sure to hide it from Chief Bogo and Clawhauser. Officers Delgato and Wolford were nearly trampled to death last time.

36. Only Detective Wilde is allowed to use the Ion Cannon, it seems that he knows what it does and how to handle it. He also has yet to shoot his tail off with it.

37. Reminder to all Officers, Detective Wilde is only allowed to use a Baton in non-lethal situations.

38. Even though Wilde is British doesn't mean he's a stereotype, even if he does like drinking tea.

39. No one is to bet a Schneider vs Wilde fight, Schneider involved the GSG9 and Wilde involved the SAS.

40. No trying arrest a badger because he "stepped on your tail" this means you, Wilde.

41. Whoever keeps putting up bunny/fox adoption papers, please stop. Detective Wilde and Detective Hopps-Wilde become unavailable for the rest of the day when this happens.

42. Reminder to all Officers to not allow any more male bunnies to be in sight of Detective Wilde or Detective Hopps. We don't need another flirting incident.

43. It is now banned to arrest the driver of the ice-cream truck and "confiscate" all of the truck's merchandise because he wouldn't stop. (We're looking at you Officers Fangmeyer, Wilde, and Schneider.)

44. Whoever put up pictures of Detective Hopps getting changed around the station, be aware that none of us will subdue him when Detective Wilde finds you; he WILL find you.

45. Do not even joke that there is someone named Shere Kahn here to see Wilde about his time in the secret service. Last time this happened Detective Wilde disappeared for two weeks and Detective Hopps-Wilde was crying her eyes out.

46. Detective Wilde is to take home all of his personal gear immediately. We can't keep replacing every computer and electronic device in the precinct every time someone uses an EMP grenade.

47. Detective Wilde is no longer allowed to bring personal equipment to work without permission. A Stinger missile launcher isn't police gear.

48. Detective Wilde is allowed to use the ion cannon. He somehow knows how to use it.

49. Do not ask Detective Wilde about his time in the secret service. Last time this happened Detective Wilde freaked out and disappeared for a week, you know I’m starting to see a pattern here.

50. To all Officers, stop baiting Clawhauser to doing your paperwork through the use of donuts and cereals. Be responsible for your own work and Clawhauser is on a diet!

51. No one is to ever label fox repellent as Genuine Zooisiana hot sauce EVER again, Hopps is still crying in my office and Wilde is still being treated for the blindness that was caused by it.

52. Remember kids, fire hot. Someone should probably make a note on that.

53. Attention officers, attention, remember to work the shaft. Wilde we know this was you.

54. If it wasn’t clear before it is now, By no means are Wilde and Hopps allowed in the copy room together and apparently I need a new secretary.

55. Do not use the mini-gun. Half of our officers are still in the hospital.

56. Do not prank Officer Hopps with anything ghost related. Wilde took an hour to literally drag her out of her home because she believed there was a ghost at the station.

57. Reminder to all officers, do not pull pranks that involve any hot sauce or Ghost Peppers. Some of our officers still have ice packs on their tongue.

58. Don't ask why Wilde has the British Flag and a London Metropolitan Police Bobby Helmet on his desk.

59. New Patrol Cars maybe bulletproof, but that doesn't mean it's a target for target practice.

60. All Officers must use the code 10-8 if you’re on duty.

61. All detectives must have their badges on the at all times, I really don’t want another incident where the Mayor mistook Detective Wilde for some shady business man.

62. I don't care how, but Detective Wilde is forever banned from using TASERS so stop giving him TASERS. We really don’t want another ‘king’ incident again do we?

63. Yes, Detective Wilde, we get that you are a Doctor Who fan, especially Sir John Hurt.

64. We don’t need the constant thing of The United Kingdom leaving the EU, Detective Wilde is still trying to deal with the other British Citizens here who have started to break out in riots. This is quite possibly the first time Detective Wilde has used any standard Police equipment properly.

65. Please do not mention Gazelle in front of either Detective Hopps-Wilde or Clawhauser, it took us three hours to get them both to shut up.

66. Officer Cody, there are no contingency orders that tell you to kill/subdue any of the Detectives on the force.

67. Alright, which one of you lot petitioned for Detective Wilde to be removed from the Force?

68. Please, who ever brought the little Vixen into the precinct, bring her again, she’s adorable.

69. Alright, who gave Wilde (Both of them) Coffee? They’ve locked themselves in their Office and frankly I believe that you can all here them from where you are.

70. Detective Wilde, please call your mother, this is the seventeenth time she’s called in at the front desk. PS. We now know your actual first name.

71. Please refrain from commenting that Detective Wilde acts like Conan from the Anime Detective Conan when he finally solves a case.

72. Who created a real Phantom Thief, who is based off Magic Kaito 1412?

73. Could someone please explain to Detective Hopps-Wilde what the previous rule is?

74. Reminder to all Officers, Detective Wilde is an Authorized Firearms Officer, and his Unmarked Squad Car is a moving armoury.

75. Kevlar Vests are now Standard issue and must worn at all times.

76. This a warning to all racists Officers, you are outnumbered 100 to 1 and Wilde has a Pranking/Torture arsenal.

77. Detective Wilde: you may be a detective now, but that does not give you an excuse to dress up like Furlock Holmes on the job. That bubble-blowing Meerkatz pipe is simply ridiculous.

78. To all feline officers of Precinct One: having roaring contests at the station is expressly forbidden.

79. Officer McHorn: from now on when your office door is jammed please wait for a locksmith instead of charging at it with your horn. According to the contractor that was a supporting wall you nearly destroyed.

80. To whoever pumped helium into the chief's office before he passed out the morning assignments, your commanding officer is not amused.

81. To whoever told Detective Hopps-Wilde about Detective Wilde's Playbunny magazines, he has sworn vengeance.

82. Just because the chief is a Buffalo that does not mean that he is angered by the colour red like a bull gets. The fact that Bogo automatically gets aggravated at the sight of Detective Wilde (Wilde's fur being red and all) is purely a coincidence.

83. The hoses on armoured police vehicles are not to be used as showers. I don't care how clean you may get or how funny it is to see bald patches on Detective Wilde's fur we cannot afford the clean-up from flooding the garage... for the fifth time this month

84. When Detective Wilde warns you about someone conning you, listen to him. The ZPD budget is still recovering after the whole fake Gazelle autograph incident.

85. To the practical joker who subscribed Chief Bogo to the Gazelle Gossip magazine, the joke is on you: he's already a subscriber

86. No one is to mention the word "neuter" in the building. It took the whole day to find the male felines, lupines, and the vulpine.

87. NO VIXENS IN SIGHT OF DETECTIVE HOPPS-WILDE OR DETECTIVE WILDE!

88. Do NOT ask Judy's parents if they had vasectomy yet.

89. NEVER underestimate Detective Hopps-Wilde. We have now learned she can beat anybody to a pulp in a sparring match, including Chief Bogo.

90. Reminder to all officers: just because Wilde is a designated firearms officer, doesn’t mean he's a sniper. Also, don't request for any weapons for the armoury, we can't have a Barrett m107 .50 or an M240, we also can't have AT4's.

91. Detective Wilde is only allowed to sing at Karaoke Saturdays.

92. Please don't disturb Detective Wilde, both of them, when they are explaining their deductions.

93. Reminder to all Racists Officers Detective Wilde is armed for a reason.

94. The new Helicopters are for police work not Romantic Flights.

95. Detective Wilde is not Sherlock Holmes.

96. All officer in Precinct 1 must sign a pact to eat Clawhauser's donut everyday at least once. He was supposed to be 'weight reduced' to normal level of fitness.

97. To any officer out there who using police superbike as patrol vehicle, DO NOT give Detective Wilde and Detective Hopps YOUR SUPERBIKE KEY.

98. To any officer who think bringing Clawhauser's family to 'Bring Your Family To Work' day, DON'T. We can't have Clawhauser being scolded for being 'fat'. It reduces Clawhauser's work productivity. And there's a reason why he doesn't live with his family again.

99. - All officer must not pushes Chief Bogo to give you case. When there is no case, there is no case. I'm watching you, Hopps.

100. For the last time, who brings laser to Precinct 1? The productivity of Precinct 1 dropped to zero just because all officer chased after it.

101. ALRIGHT, WHO BROUGHT THE LASER HERE?

102. To all officers, Officer Moon Moon is to be supervised by at least one officer at all times. He's a new recruit and a walking hazard when left unsupervised. Just ask Grizzoli in the infirmary.

103. No more bringing of pets in the precinct, especially spiders. The giant huntsman spider Officer Fangton brought is still on the loose and a third of the force won't come in until it has been caught.

104. Detective Wilde, do not take advantage of Officer Moon Moon's gullibility. The poor guy lost his first pay check when you tricked him into playing cards with you.

105. If anyone, only Detective Wilde is allowed to refer to Detective Hopps-Wilde as "cute". Anyone else risks her fury.

106. WHY ARE THERE ZOMBIES IN THE PRECINCT?!

107. Whoever dressed up as those zombies, your commanding officer is not pleased.

108. NEVER say that you hate pop-star Gazelle in front of Clawhauser. Even though he is not physically fit, he is still a cheetah.

109. To whoever put the nude photo of gazelle in chief’s paperwork you have parking duty for a month. And I'm looking at you Wilde.

110. No one is to mention Detective Wilde’s ex-wife. It was hard enough to explain to Detective Hopps-Wilde.

111. Detective Garfield we don't care how much of a jerk you think your partner Lieut. Nirmal is, so stop spamming HR with requests to get him transferred to Abu Dhabi.

112. While we are on the subject of Detective Garfield, no one's to tell him when the cafeteria is serving Italian, last time he found out he barricade himself in there and by the time we broke down the door half the food was gone.

113. No Detective Wilde, you did not learn everything you need to know in kindergarten.

114. Notice to the motor pool, for now on all porcupine officers are on permanent motorcycle duty as we can afford to keep fixing car seats every time they come back from patrol.

115. Will you all stop harassing officer Bellwether, he had nothing to do with his insane cousin’s anti-predator plot.

116. Okay apparently you idiots disregarded the last note and now officer Bellwether got himself transferred to Los Santos, claiming he'd rather be shot than harass, so I hope you all enjoy the mandatory week long species tolerance seminar.

117. Don't let Detective Hopps-Wilde drink any form of energy drink (besides coffee). She already has plenty of energy, and doesn't need more.

118. Officer Mchorn is injured at the moment and Officer Moon Moon needs a new partner. Again, don't leave Moon Moon unsupervised.

119. To the one dressed as a Ninja, Detective Wilde and the rest of the Authorized Firearms Unit are hunting you.

120. Will someone catch that Phantom Thief!

121. Reminder to all Officers, if a Military tank got stolen like San Francisco, please do not ask Wilde for Anti-Tank Weapons.

122. Please do not use the Riot Armor to be RoboCop.

123. No, we will not add attack helicopters to our arsenal.

124. Whoever keeps playing those Hyena Gomez CDs please stop, her shrieking gives half the station a headache.

125. To whoever rigged up the riot tank speakers to play 'let the bodies hit the floor' whenever the water cannon is fired, the Chief is willing to overlook this offense if you help setup his home theatre system.

126. If some whacked job manages to steal a tank like that time in San Dingo, don't go asking detective wilde for a rocket launcher, besides that's what the secondary tank full of industrial adhesive attached to the riot tanks water cannon is for.

127. Lieut. Nokiayama the precincts head corner would like to remind everyone that just because he's a raccoon dog, he doesn't have mystical powers like in Japanese mythology, so please stop trying to grab his crotch thinking it will bring you good luck, he has his ancestor’s katana and he knows how to use it.

128. Do not ask Detective Wilde about his family. He does not want talk about. He had a break down last week. If this rule is broken you will be punished by the chief.

129. To all officers, firearms are supposed to be used in emergency situations only, not in trying to kill the giant huntsman spider Officer Fangton lost. It was last seen in the armoury.

130. Do not tempt Officer Schneider with beer, Detective Wilde with tea, and Hopps with carrots. They will find out where you live.

[problemchildnoonewanted]

Life Is Strange 2 AU: P1

~Please keep in mind that the reason there is a lot of cursing/swearing is that this AU is based on a game with a lot of cursing and this is how I thought they would act given their age if they weren't owned by Disney. If you have not played the game I strongly advise it. It's so good! Also, be aware that this game was highly based on racism and injustices in America and how it can affect lives.~

"You're coming to the party, right?" Gogo asked him for the fifth time today alone. As much he wanted to press that little button on his helmet and hang up on her, he knew she'd kick his ass for it.

"Look, Gogo, you know I hate frat parties. They're not my style. I'd rather jus-FUCK!" Tadashi pulled on the brakes to avoid the dumbass that doesn't know what a stop sign is and lurched forward on the moped. Riding home through San Fransokyo was chaotic at best, but nothing new there. "Oh, come on!" The driver, however, just flipped him off and sped away. "What a dick," Tadashi mumbled.

"What happened?" Gogo's concern bled through the Bluetooth.

"Some asshole that doesn't know how to drive." Tadashi continued on his way when a car behind him honked in impatience.

"You need to be careful. Leave the speed to me, dipshit." Tadashi rolled his eyes as he pulled to a stop at a red light.

"The only one in our group that's safer on the road than me is Wasabi. I have a feeling that guy would use turn signals in a car chase. Anyway, as I was saying, parties aren't my thing."

"How would you know? You've never been to one." Tadashi turned the corner when the light turned green and pulled into the garage next to the shop.

"Because I don't want to! Do you seriously think that I want some random drunk college kids bumping into and grinding on me all night?" Tadashi groaned and put down the kickstand to his bike. "Hold on a sec." He pulled on his helmet, turned off the Bluetooth, and pulled out his phone. "Okay, now you can try in vain to convince me to go again."

"First of all, Mr. I Haven't Had A Girlfriend Since We've Met, what makes you think anyone's going to be all over you?" Gogo along with his other friends never understood why he never dated anyone. It's not like he could tell them he's only ever had eyes for his little brother. He tried moving on from Hiro a few years back, but when he kissed a girl for the first time he got so sick he ran off and immediately threw up. He never talked to her or about it again. Let alone try repeating it.

"Listen, that's by choice. And if you must know, the fact that I get asked out every other week is what makes me think that." He opened the door to the cafe and was met with the usual busy chatter of customers. He waved at Aunt Cass and started up the stairs.

Tadashi has always had this sense of loyalty to Hiro even though he thought they'd never be together in that way. In a way, it was like an attachment and gave him peace. And as wrong as it was trick himself like that, Tadashi still dreaded the day Hiro would bring someone home.

"You seriously have to get laid eventually. Unless you wanna be a cherry boy forever." Tadashi heard something clank in the background on Gogo's end.

"You still working on that project?" Tadashi made his way past the living room and climbed the stairs to his shared room with Hiro.

"Nice try, Hamada. We're not changing the subject. And when you get in your room do not try to tell me that Hiro might hear and get freaked out, he's old enough to know about sex."

"That doesn't mean I'm comfortable with talking about getting laid around him," Tadashi lowered his voice the closer he got to the door. This was again because of the loyalty thing. Tadashi didn't want Hiro to think he was with someone.

"Fine then. Agree to come to the party and we can stop talking about it." Gogo was beginning to get more snippy with him now. He knew he wasn't going to win.

He groaned and massaged his temple. He opened the door and hung up his bag. He lowered the phone when he saw Hiro at his desk and walked over to ruffle his hair and kiss the top of his head. Hiro smiled and opened his mouth to say something but Tadashi cut him off by showing his phone was on a call. Hiro pouted and turned back around. Tadashi walked over to his bed and laid down.

"You're not taking no for an answer this time, are you?"

"Not this time. It's the last big party of the year. You're going." Gogo's tone was deadly serious.

"Alright, I'll go. But I'm only staying for an hour."

"That's cool. But just in case you decide to stay longer for, I don't know, someone maybe. I left you something in your bag for you." If Gogo was there he'd no doubt see a smirk to match the mischief in her voice.

"You put something in my bag? What did you put in there?" Hiro's head turned and Tadashi could tell he was curious. Hiro shrugged and walked over to the bag.

"You'll see." Tadashi sees Hiro looking through his bag a lot despite that it's always the same stuff, so he's pretty sure he'll find whatever it is. "Just don't let your brother find them."

"What? Why?" Tadashi immediately sat up just as his bag hit the floor. Hiro's face showed a range of emotions that all followed along the lines of betrayal or abandonment. "Hiro? What is it?"

Hiro simply bolted out of the room without explanation.

"What the hell did you put in there, Gogo!?" Tadashi hung up without thinking and rushed over to the bag and saw... condoms? 'What the fuck, Gogo!'

Tadashi sprinted down to the living room and when he didn't find Hiro there he practically jumped the last flight to get to the cafe. He ran up to Aunt Cass and grabbed her shoulders making her yelp his name, "Where's Hiro?"

"Oh, he just ran out. Did you two get in a fight?" Cass cocked her hip and rested a hand there, but Tadashi ignored her in favor of finding his brother. He didn't want Hiro to get mad and end up in Good Luck Alley again.

However, he didn't find Hiro far off into the distance as he thought he would, but on the other side of the street. On the ground. With their dick of a neighbor yelling over him.

Tadashi instantly became aggressive and when he got across the street he shoved Brett away from Hiro. "Back off!"

Brett had it out for Hiro ever since he messed with one of Tadashi's projects while he was out and it resulted in a broken windshield on their neighbor's new car. Ever since then Brett would call the cops on their family for just about anything, but especially on Hiro.

Now normally, Brett would scamper off and just call the cops when Tadashi got involved. And considering Tadashi stood a good six inches taller than him, was well acquainted with the gym, and very protective of his little brother; that was a smart decision. But today must have been a bad day because he wasn't letting up.

"No way! I'm sick of this little shit running around thinking he can do whatever he wants! Look at this!" Brett gestured to his pure white shirt that was covered in a dark red liquid. Tadashi looked down and saw a cup leaking the same stuff near their feet and realized Hiro must have run into him making him spill his drink.

"I said I was sorry! You didn't have to push me!" Hiro got up and hid behind Tadashi. Brett leaned over to reach for Hiro and yell at him, but Tadashi knocked him away so he'd have to go through him instead.

"Look, dickhead, I'll give you money for a new shirt, but don't you dare touch my little brother!" Tadashi was aware of the crowd gathering around them and even heard someone calling the police, but he didn't care.

"Your brother put his hands on me first!" Brett was starting to size up on Tadashi.

"He ran into you on accident!" Tadashi defended Hiro. By now Tadashi could hear sirens in the distance.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he did it on purpose. Both of you walk around like you own the fuckin' city!" Brett was now only inches away from Tadashi.

"No, we don't! Now get out of my face!" Tadashi couldn't back up with Hiro pressed against him, so he tried to move Brett back by placing a hand on his shoulder.

Brett slapped his hand off and made to punch Tadashi in the nose, but Tadashi swerved his head out of the way. He caught the arm and pressed his palm flat on Brett's chest before using both hands to push him away. Brett stumbled a bit and right as he was about to catch his balance his foot caught on his fallen cup and he fell to the ground hitting his head on the curb.

"Oh, no." Tadashi moved to help when Brett began convulsing. And just then the police pulled up.

"He's hur-!"

"Back away!" The young officer ran up to the two with his hand on his gun.

"Wait! I know first aid. Let me help until the ambulance can get here." Tadashi tried to put his hands up and block his brother from the cop.

However, the cop became more distressed and aggressive as he saw what state Brett was in and drew his gun. "I said back away! Get on the ground now!"

Hiro started sobbing as Tadashi flinched back and started pushing him to the ground. "We didn't do anything!" Tadashi yelled and looked for help from to crowd, but they had begun to run off in fear when the officer pulled his firearm.

Hiro kept crying and repeating what his brother said over and over until their aunt was finally drawn out by the commotion. "Officer, what is going on here?!" She rushed to her boys only to have the barrel on the gun pointed at her too.

"Ma'am, stay back!"

"Aunt Cass, we didn't do anything!" Tadashi tried to explain.

"Aunt Cass, please!" Hiro pleaded for help.

"It's okay boys! Officer, please stop this! They're kids!" Cass tried approaching the officer with her hands up to calm him and talk some sense to him, but that only made him turn his full attention to the woman instead.

Tadashi could feel tears in his eyes and could tell Hiro was close to a panic attack. He wanted to help so badly, but there was nothing he could do. Just then, things around them started lifting off the ground including himself and everyone around. Except for Hiro.

This only made the cop freak out more and when Cass yelped in fear he accidentally squeezed the trigger in her direction. The bullet pierced her in the center of her chest. Hiro screamed and there was a huge pulse of energy.

Tadashi came to almost immediately. He saw his aunt and rushed to her. He wept as he realized she was gone. He then found Hiro and picked him up. Tadashi was smart and could tell that this was somehow Hiro's doing. He couldn't let his brother go to prison or become an experiment.

He stepped past the mangled police officer and ran into the shop. He avoided the people shying away and hiding from him and Hiro as he grabbed the money from the cash register, a couple loafs of bread that were bagged for sale, some water, and ran to their room.

He carefully set Hiro on his bed and began shoving clothes and a blanket into his backpack. When he heard sirens again he gathered Hiro and the stuff he packed and ran downstairs to the garage. Tadashi through the supplies in the back and placed Hiro in the passenger seat and once the garage door opened he was speeding off.

He couldn't go to any of his friends that'd be the first place the police would look. He had to get them out of the city fast. So Tadashi drove toward the closest secluded place to them. Muirahara Woods.

He would keep Hiro safe no matter what. He had to.

[hicsqueakfest]

Hicsqueak Fest Prompt List!

Hi all! Here’s the prompt list for Hicsqueak Fest! You can request up to 3 prompts at a time. Once you finish your fics/arts, you can come back for more! 

To claim your prompt, simply send an ask to @hicsqueakfest and copy/paste the prompt you want (you must have a tumblr username to do this). I will cross it off the list and put your name by it so it’s all yours. First come, first serve. Make sure you tell me if you’re claiming a FIC or ART prompt, because some of them are duplicates! 

Prompts are divided by FIC (sub categories: AU, AR, Gen, Smut, Lyrics/Quotes) and ART. 

HAPPY CLAIMING!

FIC

- Domestic Hicsqueak

- Hecate and Pippa are in an established relationship and see each other again after months apart. Could be smutty or domestic and cute.

- Hicsqueak first time. doesn't have to be sex (but it can be). It could be first time they do anything. Ie: ice skating together, first date, etc.

- Young Hicsqueak building staff/wand for Hecate to have more control over her magic and learning how to use it 

- Pippa and Hecate dancing

- Pippa already knows about the confinement in S1, how she deals with all the little ways Hecate makes excuses to not do things; and how she eventually reacts to Hecate telling her about the confinement.

- Pregnancy fic - Hecate pregnant. Pippa being the best. Mildred minding her own business.

- Single parent Pippa meets her child’s teacher Hecate @ohlookitstomorrowff

- Hicsqueak flying together on a broom

- Domestic Hicsqueak (I need a lot of that)

- A series of firsts with Pippa, after Hecate is set free

- Hecate is clueless about how attractive she is, and Pippa tries her best not to be jealous (but she so is)

- Hicsqueak as parents (interpret "parents" however you want)

- Going hunting

- Going fishing

- Visiting a planetarium together

- Hurt/Comfort. Mistress Broomhead remarks in front of Pippa that Hecate "continues to have poor taste in companions." Pippa asks Hecate what Broomhead meant by it, and Hecate has to make a choice whether or not to reveal the whole Indigo incident.

- Miss Bat catches Hecate and Pippa out of bed past curfew, but instead of punishing them, she just mercilessly teases them about it for the rest of term.

- Gardening together

- Comparing stories of the weirdest stuff they confiscated from students

- Playing poker

- “Have you done this before?" @hovercraft79

- Forehead kisses

- Adventuring to find rare ingredients for Hecate's experiments that the school can't afford @cliotheproclaimer

- Visiting Pentangle's Academy for the first time

- Candlelight supper

- Hecate introducing Star to Pippa

- Playing Mario Kart

- Pippa shows Hecate all the video games she's confiscated from her students, one of which is Skyrim. (I bet Hecate would be a closet GTA5 player after)

- Ethel saw their first kiss and is about to cause havoc

- Playing billiards

- They have a fight at Cackle's and Pippa leaves but Hecate chases her and slams into the barrier and falls off her broom and that's how Pippa finds out about the confinement @allthosegaywitches    

- What if Hecate encounters [a siren] and it takes the form of the person she desires most and Pippa is there to save her or vice versa

- There was a post not too long ago where it was discussed that its possible many girls had crushes on Hecate. So my prompt is: Pippa keeps them unknowingly all away from her Hiccup and years later at a reunion Hecate realized how many girls liked her while Pippa realizes how she really feels about Hecate.

- "I was afraid of what you'd think of me." @maybegarbo

- A fic about/involving musical harmony as a chant method - how did Pippa come to decide this was a better way of doing it, for example? (either gen or shippy)

- Hicsqueak picnic

- Pregnancy fic because there’s not enough of those... Bonus if Hecate is the pregnant one

- Fake dating

- Hicsqueak discovering their favorite ways to snuggle

- Pentangle's academy is under attack Pippa is struggling against the enemy but Hecate comes to protect and save her wife (and the academy)

- Pippa is injured/sick and Hecate takes care of her @cliotheproclaimer

- Hicsqueak wedding

- End of year, the graduating girls play pranks on the teachers and this year someone magicked a mariachi band to follow Hecate around ALL DAY and every time she vanishes them they just reappear with one more band mate

- Staff party at the end of the year Pippa is invited too; Hecate doesn't like those parties and so never shows up but since this year Pippa is going she might go as well too

- Mildred yelling, "Ethel, if you don't stop being a homophobe, DuRIng PRide mONth, then I will yeet you out the window!!!" @firesofthestars

- Fist fight

- Hecate visits Pentangle's

- Going to festivals together

- The first time Hecate sleeps outside of Cackle's, in Pippa's bed. She knows this is where she belongs.

- Hecate gets sick, Pippa takes care of her

- Accidental magic. Something silly preferable to angsty, but if angst calls to you then by all means. For example: the reason Hecate is nicknamed Hiccup is because accidental magic gave her a case of uncontrollable hiccups. that sort of thing.

- Going to conferences together

- Hicsqueak. Pippa asks Hecate why she didn't lift the confinement spell when she (Hecate) was the acting headmistress (mid season 2)

- Hicsqueak in the aftermath of s3, emphasis on Hecate dealing with her trauma and figuring out how to have a healthy relationship

- Hecate as Pippa's "knight in shining armour" (can be non-magical or magical and from gen to smutty, whatever you make of it). Basically the classic damsel-in-distress-scenario with a badass Hecate coming to the rescue. If swordfighting could be included, that would be awesome!  @well-met-and-good-day-to-you-sir

- AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

- Broomstick racing

- Fake Married trope! 

- Smoking weed together

- Touring witch colleges together/touring the country together

- Camping in the forest (the one surrounding Cackle's or any other)

- Getting drunk together for the first time

- Cuddles

- Pippa-centric, missing Hecate through the years @emiline-northeto

- Hecate-centric, missing Pippa through the years

- After Hecate and Pippa reconcile, their familiars aren’t quite sure how they feel about it.

- Hicsqueak conference fic

- Hicsqueak day at the beach

- Young!Hicsqueak - Hecate lied to Pippa about what happened to Indigo 

- "I don't think I ever stopped waiting for you."

- Pippa has always known about Hecate’s confinement and the hurt over the broomstick display came from her belief that Hecate didn’t have enough faith in them.

- Pippa finds out about Hecate’s confinement - and not from her.

- Fic where Hecate reconnects with her parents after the confinement is over - with Pippa’s support, of course.

- Hecate's favourite colour is pink 

- "You're an idiot" 

- Wedding fic 

- Baby fic 

- After the s3 finale, Hecate discovers the world with Pippa by her side 

- 5 trips Hecate and Pippa take together 

- 5 things Hecate wore that weren't her standard black dress @maybegarbo

- 5 times Pippa tapped Hecate's nose after Spelling Bee (bonus, but not obligatory: and one time Hecate tapped Pippa's) @shafeferi 

- 5 times Hecate and Pippa almost kissed (and one time they did) 

- Pippa gets abducted and Hecate loses it and tries to find her 

- Heat-of-the-moment kissing 

- Either of them gets implicated in a crime and there's ample evidence against them, so they go on the run, but the other is fiercely on their side and helps them any way they can / goes on the run with them 

- Coming out 

- Ace!Hecate @amillionmillionvoices

- Pippa is on the brink of getting married, and Hecate is heartbroken but doesn't think it's her place to say anything 

- One year, seven months, three weeks and two days  @ephemeral-winter

- 5 sunsets they saw together 

- "Ask me to marry you again" 

- Emotional scars 

- Morning routine 

- One day in the life 

- Hecate is bored in a meeting and decides to text Pippa on her maglet, Pippa texts back immediately 

- Pippa is ill, Hecate takes care of her and/or vice versa 

AU

- Doctor Who AU

- Persuasion (Jane Austen Novel) AU

- AU where they're Sirens and they have to deal with Odysseus. Or even about when Demeter gave the Sirens wings to search for Persephone

- MERMAIDS!

- Pirates

- AU in the Harlots universe @concreteangel1221

- Space commanders (Star Trek/Star Wars)

- Crime syndicate

- Street racers

- An AU where they go to Woodstock '69

- Middle earth

- Hecate lives above a bar, and is always angry about the noise. Pippa, the proprietor, has something to say about that. 

- Westeros

- Titanic AU, except there was enough room on the door! 

- Notting Hill AU

- Skyrim

- Witch in the Woods AU: Hecate does Pippa a favor, in exchange for her first-born child. But when Pippa shows up, distraught, 15 years later with a baby, Hecate wants no part of it.  @merricatsgarden

- Georgian Era

- Bus drivers (bus driver... what bus driver?)

- Stealing a car together (au)

- Dragon trainer. Pippa is gifted a dragon and needs someone to help her train and handle it. Enter Hecate Hardbroom, the Dragon Whisperer.

- Detective AU (potentially a bit humorous, a la Tommy & Tuppence or Psych, for example)

- Hecate is a college professor and Pippa is an older student returning to get her degree and the two fall in love

- Fluffy Harry Potter au where Hecate frequents nocturne ally for potions ingredients.

- Hicsqueak Victorian au

- Flirting / UST

- Heatwave

- Business woman/bakery or tea show owner AU

- Library AU @hovercraft79

- Medical AU

- Teacher/parent au @thegeneralisalive 

- Potions shop / magical pharmacy / similar au

- Soulmate au

- Spies / secret agents au

- Space au

- Princesses AU

AR (Alternate Reality) 

- AU: the thirty years of separation didn't happen, what are their life like now? (Living together, happily married, children?) @captaintangledmess

- Hecate's ~25 years old, she is given one day out of Cackles, what does she do? (Run to Pippa + drama ensues? Go somewhere else? Try to get Pippas help and they live happily ever after?)

- A canon-divergance AU where Pippa does end up with Ada's job in s2 and they have to work as a team. Lots of angst material there

- Pre-Spelling Bee and ignoring the whole stupid s3 confinement plot. Hecate and Pippa run into each other over the years at events, conferences, etc. @pellucidthings

- Hecate gives up her magic to restore the founding stone at the end of s2 @amillionmillionvoices

- AU where Hecate DOES show up to the broomstick waterskiing display, but someone sabotages her broom, and she crashes. Lots of #feelings and Hicsqueak hurt/comfort

- Tattooed!Hecate AU where Pippa has no idea that almost every inch of her is inked until she undresses her for the first time... @maybemoira / MauraMae

- AU where Hecate’s ‘confinement’ is because she’s a werewolf. @maybemoira

Gen

- Gen-Hecate, she discovers she has a sister 

- Hecate tutoring Mildred without being prompted or ordered to do so.

- Hecate supporting Maud during a difficult time @marvelousmadmadammim

- How Pippa came to found her school 

- Dimity being a friend to Hecate after the events of s3

- Dimity and Pippa becoming friends at a staff party or conference 

- A student comes out to Hecate, and she has to figure out how to handle it/how much to reveal about her own life

- 5 people Pippa came out to over the years (bonus + 1 she didn’t) @shafeferi 

Lyrics/Quotes

- Bastille's song JOY. Either take a line or just the song in general

- ‘But I'm on my way back home / It's been hard to be away’ (Dying Day- Brandi Carlile.)

- Interpret the poem "One-Act Play In Which Not All Problems Can Be Solved, & Not All Problems Are Problems, But Even So, Some Are" by Dalton Day, for Hicsqueak in light of S3, especially the bit that goes "ME: I have hands. You said you are scared of things like hands. Are you scared of my hands? YOU: Yes. ME: You have hands, too. Are you scared of your hands? YOU: Yes. ME: What if we traded hands?"

- Take the poem "One-Act Play In Which We Float Facedown In the Center Of A Lake, A Position Known As The Dead Man's Float" by Dalton Day as your starting point. Make me cry.

- Baby take me outside / kiss me in the moonlight / i just want you to touch me / i don't wanna waste no time (léon - surround me)

- I am no good at goodbyes / i never was and i don't know why / tell me, tell me that it was love / that it was real, remember all / that you have me if you still want me / baby, i'm no good at goodbyes / i never was and i don't know why (léon - no goodbyes)

- Want You Back by HAIM

- Supercut by Lorde

- ‘Will you lie here for me?’ (Lizzie)

- ‘She’s seen the pain that comes with your displeasure’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Maybe some day I’ll walk in the open’ (Lizzie)

- ‘They tried to keep me down, but I said no’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Let me tell you losing is not a game I play’ (Lizzie)

- ‘I sit here in the darkness, waiting for the light’ (Lizzie)

- ‘I know I got ‘em beat’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Watch me fly away’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Maybe some day I’ll walk in the open’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Maybe some day we’ll tell the world’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Into your wildest dreams I’ll fly’ (Lizzie)

- ‘You’ll see my face in every night sky’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Lock away your secrets, lock away my life’ (Lizzie)

- ‘I was a trembling child’ (Lizzie)

- ‘But now I see my troubled soul reflected’ (Lizzie)

- ‘What I don’t see can never hurt me’ (Lizzie)

- ‘But I’m more afraid to stay’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Settle cozy dark as sleep’ (Lizzie)

- ‘I want to sleep with my eyes half open’ (Lizzie)

- ‘You didn’t choose what side you’re on’ (Lizzie)

- ‘I’m standing looking forward in the dark’ (Lizzie)

- ‘It’s just us girls’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Don’t let them see how the fire burns’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Who told you that?!’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Will you bite through the skin to the sweet truth within?’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Will you stay?’ (Lizzie)

- ‘In every room a prisoner of a long silent war’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Sometimes you say the words, but this is not love’ (Lizzie)

- ‘I know if I stay here longer it’s gonna turn out bad’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Would you let me comfort you, if you knew?’ (Lizzie)

- ‘I can barely breath tonight’ (Lizzie)

- ‘A secrets just a lie’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Every night I dream of you’ (Lizzie)

- ‘The violence of freedom’ (Lizzie)

- ‘My silver wings are pinioned with green gold’ (Lizzie)

- ‘I feel myself disintegrating’ (Lizzie)

- ‘Oh that I had wings like a dove’ (Lizzie)

Smut/NC17

- Pippa persuading and watching Hecate touch herself

- Hecate’s first visit to an “adult” toy store with Pippa as an equally wide-eyed guide.

- Pippa telling Hecate all the dirty things she wants to do to her

- Hicsqueak smut, not first time, they're both happy and confident in their sexuality and relationship

- Dom!Hecate has Pippa in "detention" 

- Cuddle sex

- Angry sex

- Kisses/hugging/sexy times

- Pippa buying lingerie for Hecate and telling her how much she'd love for her to wear it // she does

- Hecate’s first time

- Hecate stripping for Pippa, feat. a nervous Hecate and a reassuring Pippa who has Hecate on her lap as soon as she can.

- Pippa calling Hecate "Good girl", Hecate calling Pippa "Miss Pentangle" during sex.

- 5 times hecate went down on Pippa

- "I hate this dress." / "then take it off me."

- Dom!Pippa telling Hecate when she can/can't cum - up to you if Hecate does or doesn't do as shes told.

ART

- Kisses! Sweet, passionate, you name it, any kiss. but Hicsqueak art of kisses would be really nice.

- Doctor Who AU

- MERMAIDS!

- Pirates @kayryn

- Space commanders (Star Trek/Star Wars)

- Crime syndicate

- Hecate stripping for Pippa, feat. a nervous Hecate and a reassuring Pippa who has Hecate on her lap as soon as she can.

- Street racers

- Middle earth

- Westeros @kayryn

- Pippa and Hecate dancing.

- Skyrim

- Georgian Era @kayryn

- Bus drivers (bus driver... what bus driver?)

- Cooking a full English breakfast together

- Afternoon tea @merricatsgarden

- Hecate's first trip to the beach, with Pippa

- Sunbathing

- "I don't think I ever stopped waiting for you."

- Swimming

- Swimming in a moonlit pond/pool. @merricatsgarden

- Stargazing

-  Adult Hecate standing between Pippa and some idiot man/Headbroom trying to hurt her

- Want You Back by HAIM

- Supercut by Lorde

- Forehead kisses

- Hicsqueak kissing under the mistletoe (I know it's not really that time of the year sorry)

- Hicsqueak wedding

- Hicsqueak flying together on a broom

[clevernewdimension]

Not Alone (M)

It’s illegal for hospitals to help those during the Purge. All emergency services shut down. No ambulances will come. No one will answer if you dial 911. No one will save you.

No one except Junmyeon.

He, along with his step brother and his girlfriend, run a pretty well oiled machine by now. They save people in a hospital they run. It’s not an official one, there is only so much they can do, but he will try his damnedest to save everyone. It takes a lot to run, which is where the Triade is involved. If Junmyeon fixes up their wounds, even on days when it’s not the Purge, they’ll keep his Hospital running.

So when he gets a call that one of the higher ups in the Triad’s sister is hurt, he does everything he can to save her.

Genre: Action, Gore, and smut.

Word count: 11K

A/N: Trigger warnings for gore, blood, death, attempted rape, animal abuse, animal death. But over all it’s actually kinda cute. The second half, at least.

Junmyeon smiled, feeling arms wrap around his waist. He glanced back, seeing just a firm chest. Sehun, his half brother, always gives Junmyeon hugs, but especially around now. He knows that now is especially stressful for Junmyeon. The doctor smiles, “About time you showed up. Can you help me check and see if I have enough supplies? Rubbing alcohol, wire, needles and such?”

“She’s already on it,” Sehun says, holding him as he watches Junmyeon cut open a box with packs of sterile scalpels and other surgical supplies should he need it. Years ago Sehun and Kyungsoo helped him turn the basement into an emergency operating room. A lot of aprons and, if those run out, a pack of trash bags to rip hole into an wear. A lot of the supplies gotten here though illegal means, thanks to a friend of Kyungsoo’s, Yixing.

He doesn’t really care for Yixing, but at least he’s some Mafia Don who only hurts people who deserves it. Pedophiles, murderers, abusers, and those who steal from the poor to give to the rich are his gang’s targets. What Junmyeon doesn’t like is the drug and weapon smuggling, but he supposes he can ignore those since Yixing actually helps people who need it in this town, especially with blackmailing political powerhouses. However, the NFFA still seems untouchable, even for someone as powerful as Yixing.

Junmyeon is a friend of the gang. Because of that, he had to get a tattoo of their symbol, the phoenix. Under it is a barcode, which is pretty weird, but those in his gang can just scan it and see that he’s not only a certified friend of the gang, but a personal one to Yixing. In return he has to patch up a few of his men from time to time. Easy enough if it mean he can help people on Purge night.

He looks at Sehun, remembering what his younger brother said. Junmyeon smiled, hearing him say that. Last year after that asshole came back to Sehun, he was worried. Sehun likes to keep people at a distance after something bad happens. It took him ages to break though his shell the first time. Thankfully he’s not that hard now if you know him. He’s extremely happy that he and his best friend have finally gotten together. They’re adorable, even when they’re trying not to be. Both of them too cool and super edgy, Junmyeon likes to joke they’re still not over their middle school emo phases.

Junmyeon sighs, feeling his back hurt. All the stress makes him so tense this time of year. Thankfully he has a vacation planned after, some time away from everything and everyone to just be on a beach and do nothing. Granted he still has the week here to check up on patients, attend the funerals for people he unfortunately can’t save, things of that nature. Took Sehun ages to convince him to take it, but now the more he thinks about it the more he realizes he needed it.

He looks over, seeing the news on. People from other countries coming to try and kill others for fun makes him angry. It’s funny, he thinks, that people like to pretend that humans are not animals when there are so many of them who act like it by letting go of their rational mind and return to a primal sense of existing.

Seeing the people smile and laugh on the tv talking about killing people made Junmyeon extremely angry.

I feel the dread in my gut as I lock the metal door of my store. I look, seeing the inside of my small ice cream shop. Four tables, a small bar with three seats and 18 different handmade flavors to choose from, three seasonal that rotate through the year. I reach up, jumping to grab onto the metal barrier. My sister and her… friends, installed it. She and I are not alike in the slightest. Twins, but we look nothing alike. She has tattoos and piercings and works for the local Triade. She flunked out of high school and joined a gang immediately. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll are three of her favorite things and she’d rather burn out than fade away.

Meanwhile, I own an ice cream shop, have a culinary degree with a minor in business and the only piercings I have are my ears and the only tattoo I actually wanted is a small crown in the shape of my best friends necklace that she would wear growing up. Got it when she died a few years ago. She was the co-owner. I made the ice cream and she kept track of finances and things.

We couldn’t be any different, my sister and I. She made me get the dumb phoenix tattoo with the stupid bar code, saying it was just in case things happen. It was fairly small on my side, thankfully easily hidden. She’s protective. Strong and abrasive. I’m timid, soft spoken and quiet. She’d break the rules and I’d follow them.

I turn, looking at the clock. Purge night begins soon, and my sister told me she’d have a few of her friend make sure no one goes after my shop. It’s the least she could do for me, really. Years of stealing from me to get money for who knows what. But I still love her, and she appears to be a lot calmer now.

When the siren blared, I was hiding in my house. I never slept this night, taking the day after off in order to do so. All lights and everything off, making it look like I’m not home. Every year it’s like this. Waiting for the blood to stop flowing through the streets and the screams of terror to be silenced. Every gun shot, I flinch, every thump, I want to whimper. I’m scared. Fear is the enemy of me. I’m not brave. I’m a coward. It’s just something I’ve come to accept.

A few hours in, the hell outside was getting worse and worse. One glance outside showed me all the things I would have nightmares about. Inside it was different. Everything was still, I even turned the heat off as I was wrapped into a blanket in bed. All was still in my apartment. It was quiet. The terror outside but here nothing made a noise. It was unnerving. I was use to a little noise almost constantly, from Stela… the bell on her collar.

I feel my blood run cold. I move from my blanket, my feet touching the cold ground as I peak my head out my bedroom door. It was dark, but the light from the fires lit up the view of my front door.

I put my hand over my mouth, seeing the body of my cat there on the ground in two pieces. I look at the white door, seeing written there in dripping blood just a few words.

YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID YES

The bathroom across from me was opened as I look, seeing him. The man who, for the past ten months has come in and out of my shop asking me to date. When I refused, he then asked for ‘just sex’. I see him in my nightmares and seeing him here, today of all days made me want to scream. I turn towards my room, my hand on the door before he places his foot there, stopping it from closing.

“All you had to do was say yes,” He says, shoving the door open. I fall from the force, before he grabs me, a knife in his hand, blood cleaned. Be puts it to my throat. “Hold your hands out for me, for I swear I will kill you,” He says in my ear, his breath making my skin crawl.

I do as he says, his other hand moving and I see him slap a cuff on one hand, before doing the same to the other. It was tight, as he then shoves me so that I was on the bed.

I look, seeing him just stand there, grinning wildly. “You know, I’m a nice guy. I have a great job. I’ve never been anything but polite to you. I even volunteer at the homeless shelter because I’m just such a nice person. But you’re just like them, huh?” He says, pointing the knife at me. It catches the end of my tank top, as he slowly moves it up. The sound of the cloth cutting making me freeze.

“You’re just like all those sluts who wants guys who are asshole,” He yells, ripping the knife away as the shirt fall open in two pieces. I bit my lip, remembering that I hid the gun my sister bought for me. Every Purge night I put it under my pillow instead of in the closet in a secure safe.

I feel the knife at my mouth, the tip cutting ever so lightly on my cheek. “A whore who says no to men who could be husbands and instead go to clueless boy toys,” He says in my face. Be pulls the knife away, before I feel it at my chest again, slicing my bra in two. He glares up, shaking his head, “Lace?” He scoffs, “Closet slut. It’s a shame, I always dreamed about this. You and me laying down, making love,” He mutters sadly, before pushing my arms up. “Keep them up there,” He growls, “I always imagine it. You and I making love the first time. You being shy, embarrassed that it’s your first time.” He smiles, like thinking of a memory rather than a fantasy.

His hand goes to my throat, tightening. I start to feel light headed, suffocating as I try to breathe. “But you’re really not, right? Innocent. You’re probably like all the rest of them huh? Some bitch whose cunt is so loose from being used up all these years.”

He lets go and I take a deep breath, wanting to say something, but not being able to. I was scared. A rabbit in a world of wolves.

He pushes my shirt and bra to the side, my chest bare to him as his eyes just look at me. He smiles, “But I’m willing to forgive you. For a price.”

He leans down, the blade biting into the skin near my ribs as his teeth bite into the side of one of my breasts. I whine, tears flowing freely as I feel his other hand holding my hips tightly.

I reach, my fingers grabbing the gun. I move, knocking it against his head He falls from the bed as I move, pointing the gun at him quickly. He moved fast, starting to lunge at me before the bang. My hands feeling weird, tingly.

I see him fall, and with it, the view of my stomach. The blade of the knife stabbing, right above my hip. I was shocked, staring at it before I reach, grabbing the phone on my nightstand. I quickly dial my sister, laying back as I try not to pain. I start to feel the hint of the pain now.

“Hey lil sis,” She says, “Listen, I’d love to chat but Yixing has us-”

“I’ve been stabbed,” I mutter, from shock, tears coming to my eyes as the pain before more and more intense. “I-i’m gonna die, please, help me!”

“Where are you,” She says, her voice going from joking to serious in a flash. She’s older. Suppose to be more mature. I guess seven minutes doesn’t make a difference, really.

“Home,” I say, starting to cry as I try to hold back screaming. Bad people would come looking for me if they heard.

“Wait there,” She says. “I have a friend in that part of town, he’ll get you and take you to his brother, the one I told you about? Who runs that makeshift hospital.” She mutters, “But stay with me, ok, Sweet Pea? What happened? Talk to me.”

“That crazy guy,” I muttered, I-I thought he was innocent, but he’s not. He attacked me. He t-tried to rape me! So I… oh god… I shot him.”

“He deserved it,” She says.

He voice started to fade, as I could see the light from the street dancing on my wall, A quick glance and I see the red splatter. My eyes start to drift closed, as I hear someone come into the room.

“I told you, Cunt,” Sehun says, speeding in a car, “This is a favor asked by a member of the Triad. You know they are the ones pretty much keeping Junmyeon’s hospital afloat.”

“They’re just super shady is all,” She says over their radio. This time they have one with a bigger radius. “Besides, forgive me for being worried about you, Bitch.”

“You know the woman who stops by a few days before the Purge and make sure all of the weapons we have are good to go,” He says, as he darts through the people in the streets, not paying attention to them.

“Yeah,” She says, “Tattoos, nose piercing, cusses more than us somehow.”

“Her sister isn’t like her. She’s normal. Innocent. I’ve heard her talk about her sister’s ice cream shop. She’s about as innocent as innocent can get. And she was attacked by a stalker, apparently,” Sehun says, parking as he gets to the building.

“Fuck,” She says, as Sehun hears the radio cut out, but the sound of her shooting something goes off first. “It’s fine,” She muttered quietly. “I’ll try to make sure the path is clear for you. Should be good for now. Come back quick, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m going in.”

Sehun moves, quickly getting to the elevator. He reviews the text. Fifth floor. Second door on the right. The doors open and he sees two people, smiling outside a door at the end of the hall. A body at their feet as they are taking knives and cutting off pieces. Putting them in their mouth. Sehun pulls out a handgun, “If you come near me, I will end you.”

They go back to what they are doing, as he tried the door he needed. Locked. Of course. He kicks the door in, almost sliding to fall on his face. He looks, seeing a body of some animal. He closes the door, looking. The message there makes him feel gross.

He moves, quickly, going to the first door on the left and sees the scene. A man in a crumpled mess, one eye wide and the other gone, probably in the mess along with the brain on the wall. He looks seeing the woman. Her top half bare, shirt and bra hanging from her still as the voice on the phone was screaming.

He sees the knife, cursing. “I’ve got her,” He yells, hoping her sister heard him as he quickly picks her up and takes her with him.

Times like this Sehun feels the most fear. When someone is literally dying and he’s not sure if he can get him to Jun in time. He could hear in his ear that he was being told that Junmyeon was ready, waiting for him with a clean O.R. and her blood type ready to go. If she died now it was all on him. Not to mention he’d have one of Yixing’s three most trusted members of the Triad on his ass.

The ride was fairly smooth. He ran over something that was a lump on the ground, making her yell out a yell of pain. He got there, taking her in his arms as he pushed bast people. “Move,” He yelled, making people get out of his way as he went to the stairs, going to the basement.

Junmyeon glanced over, apron, plastic eye shield and gloves. “Start the morphine drip,” He instructs his O.R. tech. He looks at his brother, “Get the blood. We’ll have to start that soon.”

Sehun nods, moving towards the small mini fridge of blood. “What type,” He asks.

“AB positive,” He says, as he gets a scalpel. He pulls out the knife, the blood coming out faster as he just squirts water in order to look and see what he’s dealing with. “Looks like the large intestine was cut,” He says, moving the magnifier over his face. “I’ll have to stitch it up and then the wound.”

Junmyeon didn’t care of the woman before him was bare. He didn’t ask patient stories before he treats. Just what the wound is. He needs to focus all of his attention on the care he gives. With steady precision he starts. Sehun, in her other arm, starts the blood bag. He was taught this by Junmyeon when it was just a few of them working. He needed someone to do this while he focused on the problem.

It always amazed him seeing his brother work. He made himself busy by picking the lock on the handcuffs, freeing her wrists. Junmyeon focused, looking angry as he always does when he sees people hurt today. It felt like it didn’t take long, and as soon as Junmyeon told him that she was in the clear, he was back out, doing his job.

Junmyeon helped carry her to a cot, placing her there. He places a hand on her forehead, nodding. He take the radio out of his pocket. “Sehun, what’s her story.”

“She’s the sister of that bull looking girl,” He says. “From the Triad.”

“Just because she has a septum doesn’t make her a bull,” A voice chimes in.

“Shut it, Cunt,” Sehun says, “She was… I got there and immediately slipped in blood. Her cat. A message on the door. ‘You should have said yes’. Her sister told me that she’s been having this creep at her shop show up.” He sighs, “They didn’t think it was this crazy, though. Got into her bed room and I see her on her bed, shirt and bra cut open, hands cuffed together, knife in her side and a gun next to her. Her sister on the phone by her ear screaming. The guy… well, he was splattered on the wall.”

Junmyeon shakes his head. He recognized her. The owner of Sweet Pea Ice Creamery. She’d been in from time to time when he allowed himself a little treat. He loved the Earl Grey tea flavor they have, and the Gingerbread one during the winter. She was sweet and nice. Also very beautiful, which is why Junmyeon finds himself going in the shop looking for her from time to time. He can see the resemblance to her sister. She was fairly quiet, and soft spoken.

He frowns, thinking that it’s a disgrace that someone like her was hurt. Someone who does nothing but try to make this place better with a smile and some sweets. A few moments of thought was all he was given before he hears the yell of another emergency. He stands, turning without looking back. It’s his duty.

I winced, waking up. I see to my side my sister, holding one of my hands. Behind her is Yixing, whom I know vaguely. He’s come in for ice cream from time to time. Something about his ‘Baby’s favorite’, raspberry white chocolate. Next to him is a man I don’t know by name, but I remember his face. Earl grey tea, is his go to order. Sometimes he’ll get a small iced coffee too, but not often. They were speaking as I look, seeing my sister look at me as I start to sit up.

“You need to rest,” She says, as I look at her face. All facial piercings are off, but her mascara was running down her face in rivets. It was weird, seeing her so… vulnerable. She hates getting emotional and ‘showing weakness’ as she’d call it. She wipes her face, putting a hand on my cheek. “Sweet Pea, I saw what you did,” She says, looking at me with worry, “It’s ok, you know that, right? He was going to hurt you. I know that your against violence, and I know this will be hard for you, but please don’t feel guilty.” She says, as I see her lip quiver. The hand holding mine tightens, in order to comfort me, “I don’t know how to live without you.”

“I…” I say, my throat feeling dry, “I… my apartment-”

“Someone is cleaning it-” She starts.

I shake my head, feeling tears, “No, I can’t go back there. Don’t make me, please!”

She nods, moving and pressing her lips to my forehead, “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to get a new place. I’ll pull some favors and get you moved out so you don’t have to go back. I’ll bury Stela in the botanical gardens so she can be close to the butterflies she loves to chase at the windows,” She says, looking at me. “I swear.”

I nod, looking past her to the two men in the room. They were quiet, seeing us with one another. Yixing nods his head as a greeting. “I’m glad you’re ok,” He says, “I promise you, no matter what, we will make sure to keep you safe every Purge from now on.”

“Thank you,” I say, wiping away my tears. I see another man, a wearing a black shirt and jeans. His hair pushed out of his face and messy. “I know you. You come to my shop. Earl grey tea in a waffle cone,” I say quietly.

He looked shocked, black hair back away from his forehead. His eyes look into mine, before a small smile appears. He nods, “Yeah. It’s my cheat treat. I’m Junmyeon. This is… a safe haven. A little hospital I run for the people who are hurt today.” He says, looking at me. “You seem fine, given the blood loss. Glad you didn’t panic and pull the knife out or else…” He shakes his head. “I’m going to come and see you every day for about a week after, just to make sure you’re healing properly. That being said, not heavy lifting, no crouching, and it would probably be best if you didn’t work, honestly.”

I nod, “I understand. Thank you, Dr. Junmyeon. For saving me.”

He nods, opening his mouth to say something else because I would hear a door slam open.

“Jun! We have a burn victim,” A voice yells.

I see Junmyeon face, for a moment, break. The look of anguish, before it was back to calm and collected. “O.R., Make sure the burn room is free and get someone to completely disinfect it!”

I see someone run past, holding a stretcher. The skin was red, melted and looked like it was liquid. The person passed out, probably from the pain and another person holding the other end.

My sister bring my attention back to her, “Listen to me, I have to go, but I trust Junmyeon. He’s a good man, and that’s damn near impossible to find anymore. I’d trust him with my life… I trust him with you. If you can help, try too. He’s running himself into the ground. Even if it’s just going around and giving other hurt people water, ok? I know you hate feeling useless.” She smiles, looking at me, “We have that in common at least.”

I smile, nodding. “I love you,” I say, holding her hand tightly back.

“I love you too,” She says, nodding.

Once she left, I did what I could to help out. Giving people some small cups of water, talking with people, and comforting those who needed it. I could see the tall man who carried the stretcher look at me, along with Dr. Junmyeon from time to time. It was painful, and I had to take it rather slow, but I liked helping.

I’ve always been a curious person. Sneaking into our fathers study, spying on the neighbors. It’s gotten better as I’ve gotten older, but I still find myself listening in on strangers conversations from time to time. Now, even as I have been stabbed and the guilt of killing someone was weighing on me, I find myself snooping in.

The door open, and I see Dr. Junmyeon kneeling. He was looking at a man, his mouth covered with a mask as he was speaking. I open the door a little bit more, seeing the burned person from earlier.

“Please,” The person cries, “You said it yourself, I will not live past tonight with these burns. This little hospital not having things to treat burns like mine.” I see Dr. Junmyeon’s eyes are tearing up as he was looking at the person. “You’re trying to make me comfortable to pass on, but it’s not helping. It’s so painful… you’ve given me the best pain killer you have and I still feel like I’m being boiled alive.”

“You want me to kill you,” He says, the tears flowing from his eyes.

“I want you to end my suffering,” The man says. “I have no one. All of my family died today. Let me join them, Doctor.”

I see the Dr. Junmyeon pause, wiping his eyes. He nods, “I’m going to put you to sleep first. Then it’ll be peaceful.”

“Thank you,” He says, as I see Junmyeon stand, moving to a small dresser.

“What is your name,” I hear Junmyeon ask, “I… I’m going to make sure you get back and can be buried beside your family.”

“Rodger Felts,” The man says, the voice coming out as a pained whine now.

“I promise, you will not just be forgotten,” He says as he opens the top one, and I see him getting a small tank of gas and a face mask. He places it over the man’s face, turning it.

“I’m sorry,” The Doctor says, “That I couldn’t save you.”

“Son,” The man says, “If you did, I probably would have ended it anyways after seeing what those men did to my little girls.”

I wait, seeing the man slowly fall asleep. I hear a few sniffles, my eyes tearing up as I see him go back to the dresser, getting a shot and a small vial. Soon the needle is in pressed into the vein, the plunger pushed all the way down. The doctor nods, “Rodger, I don’t know if you can hear me, but that will put you into a medically induced coma. It will be peaceful, I swear.”

I watch as he waits, looking at his watch. Probably waiting for the drug to go into effect. I see him carefully take the pillow from under the man’s head. Junmyeon’s face nothing but tears as he presses it down, smothering the man. He held it there, in place, for a minute. Then two. Tears falling from my face. I watch him move the pillow, his hand moving to the man’s neck. From what I could tell, the pulse was gone, and he had moved on. I see Junmyeon shake his head, before turning and throwing the vial that was still in his hand against the wall, letting out a yell of anguish.

A few moments of stillness. He didn’t move before I see him reach for his pocket. “Sehun,” the doctor says, “The man who was burned. He’s gone.”

I wipe my eyes, turning and walking down the hall. Away from it. I hate killing. I can’t do it. Seeing how much it affected him makes me think Junmyeon is the same. But he still did it out of mercy. He, above all, probably hates to see people suffer.

Rodger Felts stayed on my mind all night. More people brought in, more people to help. To comfort. Soon, I could hear the siren. Purge is over. My sister came back for me, hugging me tightly as she moves to help escort me. I see Junmyeon, and the man I learned later on was Sehun. I smiled, “Thank you,” I say, “For saving my life.”

Sehun nods, silent as he looked over at Junmyeon. The doctor smiled, though it didn’t seem real. His eyes held immense sadness. He just nodded, walking away. Sehun went to follow as Junmyeon left the room, but I act this hand.

“I… I saw Junmyeon, with the burned man,” I mutter quietly. “I was going around, helping people the best I could, and I didn’t exactly know where I was. I saw… that man begged him to end his suffering. He did and he was… distraught.” I look to the ground, “I didn’t mean to spy, but I just thought someone close to him should know how upset he was.”

Sehun sighed, shaking his head. “I’m happy you saw, because he would have just held it in for ages if I didn’t know about it.” He looks over to the door he left out of, “He worries me.”

I nod, “Um… well, how about both of you come by my shop. I feel like you both deserve free ice cream for life for what you did for me.”

Sehun laughs, “Sure thing. Not for at least three days, though. When you leave, you rest. Let your employees take the reigns for a bit.”

I nod, seeing my sister turn into the room. She rushes over, hugging me close around my shoulders. “I have you a hotel room for a few days. We got you a new place, better security, and we’re going to start moving your things over tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I mutter, holding her as the tears came to my eyes. All the crying I held in for hours came out, shaking and crying as I cling to my sister, the rock in my life and the only person I have.

Junmyeon was exhausted, looking at the completely clean and disinfected O.R. His back resting against the wall, sitting down. Blood didn’t phase him at all. It was part of the job, after all. Death did, however. Anytime someone dies in his care, it hurts. Tonight he lost two. One who died on the table and the one he…

He understands it. The amount of pain, knowing that you’ll die either way, it’s merciful. His last few hours were going to be agonizing. Nothing to dull the pain. The feeling of your skin melting would have never stopped. Even the air hurts it.

He hears the door open, looking and seeing Sehun. The man just walks over, sitting down by Junmyeon. Dirt and blood on him, as he just sighs.

“I hear you had to,” Sehun starts, letting the statement drift off. He places a hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder. “It’s ok, Junmyeon. I know what you’re life after killing someone, be it in self defense or out of mercy. Please don’t let it control you.”

Junmyeon lowered his head, feeling the pent up emotions finally come to light. The sobs start before he could even attempt to stop them, and Sehun has him in a hug quicker than ever. Sehun doesn’t know how much longer Junmyeon can keep this place running. It wears on him for so long after. A deep sadness in his older brother that he hates to see. He’s a good person. He has a good heart. That heart is also very tender, as it turns out.

He just wished that Junmyeon realized he can’t save everyone, no matter how hard he tries.

I sigh, sitting at my shop thinking about my new apartment. It was a little larger than before. The kitchen roomier and the living room that had enough space I could do something like yoga in it if I move the coffee table. All of my pictures and keepsakes are here. My sister took the liberty of picking how new furniture, leaving me a post it on the kitchen counter about owing her some of her favorite chocolate hazelnut ice cream. It’s funny, a new place, better security and with Purge insurance, but cheaper than my old place. Which I didn’t mind at all, honestly.

My sister came by with Doctor Junmyeon the first two days. He looked like he wanted to rip is hair out, but he was still polite and kind. Today he was going to meet me here at the shop. I was still, just monitoring as kids safely come in and get ice cream after school. I would smile at them, watching them count out the change they saved to get their favorite flavor.

The bell dings and I look over, seeing Junmyeon there. He smiles, looking a lot healthier now, but still… worried. “My office,” I ask, looking at him with a smile.

“I don’t think you’d want me to check your wound out here, after all,” He says, nodding.

“I could just, you know… meet you at the hospital,” I say, looking as I take my keys and unlock my office. It was small, a bit cramped to be honest.

“I’m off work,” He says, “Vacation time. Besides, this way it saves you from having to pay more than a hundred dollars each visit, too.”

I nod, lifting my shirt, letting him see the bandage. He has a bag in his hand that he sets on the desk over some of my papers. He takes out a pair of gloves, putting them on. He peels the bandage off, looking at the stitches. “It’s healing nicely. You’ve seem to listen to me about taking things easily. Which is nice, since many people want to ignore a doctor’s advice.”

“Well, you did save my life, so I feel like I owe it to you to at least listen to you,” I say quietly. I watch him as he carefully places another small square of gause, and tapes the sides to my skin, trying not to hurt me. He was concentrating on being extremely gentle.

“Thank you,” I say, as he moves away.

He smiles, looking stressed and tired, “It’s really no problem.”

He goes to turn, as I reach out, “Dr. Junmyeon, wait please,” I say, blushing at my sudden outburst. I wince from the sudden movement, a bit sore as I reached out for him.

“You shouldn’t move too quickly,” He says, looking at me with worry, his eyes scanning to see if I’m alright. Junmyeon turns, looking over at me. He looked curious, but waited.

“I… just wait here a moment please,” I say, moving past him and out my office, our chests brushing awkwardly as I pass by. I really didn’t think that through, as I go into the kitchen and quickly into the freezer. I see a large styrofoam box, a post it note on it in my handwriting saying ‘Do not sell’. I grab it, before moving back towards my office. He had his bag in his hand as he looks back at me. I feel my face flush as I hold the box out. “Earl Grey tea. Three quarts. Please enjoy it!”

He looks surprised, looking back at me. I see him smile, and this time it seemed to actually reach his eyes. He takes it, “I’m… shocked. You didn’t have to do this.” He looks at me, grinning.

“I just… thought that you could use a pick me up after everything. If anyone deserves ice cream, it’s you. What you do for people,” I say, feeling my throat getting tighter from sadness. “People would be just… hopeless without you and what you do every year, apparently. So, you deserve it.” I look away, “Um… if you want some waffle cones for that ice cream, I can make those too. It’ll take a while since we make them fresh to order, but I mean, you know that al-”

“I could always come back again,” He says, “To get some. If that’s ok. I’ll pay for the cones too. I don’t want you going out of business giving me things for free, after all.”

“I order too much anyways,” I say, smiling, “So that employees can gives some free to their loved ones from time to time. I think you deserve a few cones.”

“I’ll be back later today, then,” He says, nodding.

“See you,” I say, nodding as he leaves the office. I feel my face heat up as I cover it. “He’s so handsome,” I mutter to myself, before sitting down and going over payroll for these two weeks.

Junmyeon opens the door to his apartment, smiling a little as the cold box in his hands. He looks, seeing Sehun on his couch, flipping through channels. The younger man looks over, seeing the box. He smirks, “Ice cream, hm? Did you buy it to try to get on her good side.”

“She gave it to me,” He says, putting the bag down and moving to the kitchen. “Earl Grey.”

Sehun smiles, getting up and following his older brother to the kitchen. “I knew I recognized that box. I end up getting some of her rocky road from time to time when the supposed love of my life wants it. Never from her, though. She takes the weekends off usually.” He smirks, watching his brother put the container in his freezer. “Funny, since it’s Saturday. She doesn’t work today, and yet, she was there. Making you ice cream.”

“Just say what you want to say, Sehunnie,” Junmyeon says, looking in his refrigerator for some leftovers to have for lunch.

“You haven’t dated in a while-”

“Oh no,” Junmyeon says, shaking his head. “You know why, I’m too-”

“Too busy, whatever, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” He says. “We’ve heard a lot about her from her sister. She’s kind, smart, and a homebody. Much like you. It wouldn’t hurt to just try.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, taking the leftover half of a sub out and peeling the paper away. He bites into it, before moving and sitting down next to Sehun. He cares, and he knows his brother is doing this out of a good place, but it’s still annoying. Sure, he thinks she’s attractive. He has since he stepped into the ice cream shop the first time. He can’t drag yet another person into running this hospital, though. It takes a damn toll for sure.

Sehun just smiles, “Fine. Change of topic. Have you met your new neighbor yet?”

“No,” He says, mouth full of food. “Mrs. Alessi did. Says that she’s very kind and quiet, which is already improved from the last person who lived there. She also said she gave her a small gift. Needless to say Mrs. Alessi is already in love with her.”

Mrs. Alessi, Junmyeon thinks with a smile. An older woman, probably in her seventies. She likes to dote on people, since she’s a widow and her children all live a few cities over, she turns her attention to the people who live on their hall. She makes him a lot of pasta dishes, which is amazing since she immigrated from Italy when she was a small girl. “She apparently tried knocking on my door, but I was gone.”

Sehun had a knowing smirk on his face, but said nothing. A very Sehun like thing to do. He just looks away, “Well, she also talked with the newbie for a bit too. Turns out, single. Maybe you could-”

“Sehun, my love life is nonexistent and will probably be that way forever. Please, leave that subject be,” Junmyeon says, frowning. “You know what will happen.”

Sehun rolls his eyes, “Whatever. Just call me later and tell me how meeting with ‘Sweet Pea’ goes, yeah? Or tell me if your neighbor is hot. The grumpiest tech support manager and I are looking into maybe wanting a threesome with someone.”

“You two are wild,” Junmyeon says, shaking his head.

“She’ll take that as a compliment,” He says with a smile as he heads for the door.

I smile, waving at my employees walking out of the storefront and going home. I stand in front of the machine that looks sort of like a waffle maker, but for very thing ones as I press the stop down, hearing the batter cooking. I hear the door ring and I look up, seeing Junmyeon. “Hey,” I say, “Would you mind flipping the sign to closed?”

“No problem,” He says with a smile, turning it easily. He turns back, “That smells good.”

“Well,” I say, “I know you usually try a few flavor of cones. This one is actually new. Toasted coconut.”

“That sounds amazing,” He says, sitting at the bar in front of the waffle maker.

I nod, “So, Dr. Junmyeon-”

“Just Junmyeon, please,” He says, watching as I lift the top of the cone press. I take it, quickly twisting it while it’s still very hot into the shape. I hold it there nodding.

“Junmyeon, what kind of doctor are you? If you don’t mind me asking, that is,” I mutter, looking away for a moment.

“It’s ok,” He says, resting against his hand, watching me work. “I use to be a brain surgeon, but I see enough awful things in one night a year that I moved to doing plastic surgery.”

“My sister would love that,” I say smiling.

“She wants work done?”

I shrug, starting a new cone as I set the coconut one to cool more, knowing it would completely hold it’s shape. This one was light purple. Lavender. He gets a lavender one quite a bit. “Plastic surgery mean… well I assume you do a fair amount of… well, boob jobs.”

He laughs, nodding, “Well, yeah.”

“My sister would want it just to ever so subtly look at them all day,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“After the first few times, you learn to just shut that part of your brain down,” Junmyeon explains, smiling when I pour the purple batter onto the maker. “Besides, your sister wanted a nose job for a while.”

I nod, “Someone talked her out of it.”

“I did,” He says, with a shake of his head. “She was convinced that she needed it to make it look thinner but if she did that it would make her nose look practically non existent.” He sighs, “She’s a lot like other people I’ve seen. Think something is wrong when it isn’t… but if they insist…”

“I’m shocked,” I say with a laugh, “She’s a stubborn one. The fact you convinced her not to do it is astounding.”

“She’s stunning without any work done,” He say with a shrug. “I told her if something went wrong and she broke her nose or anything like that, then we’ll talk.”

“I’ll take that as a complement,” I say with a smile, “Since we’re twins and all.”

He looks at me, eyes a bit wide. “Oh… well, good. Because you are too.”

I take the lavender cone, twisting and holding it in shape, making sure the bottom of it won’t let any ice cream drip. “Almost done,” I say, nodding, “Just one more vanilla one.”

“Take you time,” He says, “Your sister mentioned about you moving. How did it go?”

“Very well,” I smile, pouring the batter and pressing it closed. “It’s got a gate at the front and everything. I didn’t expect it to be so high, though. But the sights are great. It’s a bit farther away, so I have to take the subway for a bit longer than I use to.”

“You’re riding the subway? While recovering?”

“Am I not suppose to?”

He sighs, “It’ll agitate the area. You should really drive.”

I shrug,” I don’t own a car.”

“Would you like me to drive you home,” He says, looking out and seeing it getting dark.

I nod, “That would be wonderful. Are you sure? I don’t want to invade too much of your day.”

“I’d worry, honestly,” He says, nodding.

“Alright,” I say quietly, “But promise me I’m not taking you away from people that need you or anything, right?”

“You’re not.”

I pack up the cones, handing him the box before I take the money from the register and place it in the safe after counting it. After, I make sure the back door and unloading bay is locked, twisting door knobs and trying to lift the large sheet of metal. After I lock my office, turning out all the lights. Once I get to the front, I just go and lock it up. Tomorrow is the cleaning morning, so I’ll have to remember to look and see if we’re still good on cleaning supplies.

Junmyeon opens the door for me. “Thank you,” I say, locking the front door. With his help I pull down the security cage like door, locking that in place. Thankfully my manager is coming back in town and starting work tomorrow, giving me the day off it I’d want it.

I turn, looking at Junmyeon. His hair starting to fall in his face as he checks his watch. A small breeze blows by, making me smile. The kitchen can get pretty warm, even for an ice cream parlor. He stands beside me, offering me his arm. “I parked a little bit away,” He says, “I like to try to get at least a little bit of walking done.”

I slip my arm into his. “I have a treadmill that I try to get on at least four days a week usually.” I look over, seeing him smiling and looking back at me. I feel a blush creep to my face, having him looking at me so closely. I mentally curse myself for not thinking to put on makeup. Not that it would matter, since he’s seen me at literally the worst I’ve ever looked. “I’ll walk while I watch some t.v. usually. Before dinner. To work up an appetite, you know?”

The walk was quite conversation. Junmyeon told me about liking to sing, read and keep himself healthy. I talked about culinary school, growing up with my sister and how I was on my high school academic decathlon. We were both nerds, apparently, as he was the valedictorian of his class, both high school and college. Makes sense.

We got to a silver BMW, as he take out his keys and unlocks his car. He was kind, making sure I got in without hurting myself before moving to the drivers side.

“So,” He says, turning the music down as he started his car. “Where to?”

“You know that apartment building that’s right next to the financial district,” I mutter, feeling a bit awkward that I live at such a nice play now. “The one with the gate?”

He pauses, before looking at me. Junmyeon just smiles, “Do you happen to life in 712? At Windsor apartments?”

I frown, looking at him. “Yes…”

He just lets out a laughs, resting his forehead on his steering wheel. With a shake of his head, he glances over. Holding out his right hand, he smiles. “Hello 712. I’m Kim Junmyeon, I live in 713.”

I was so stunned I just said the first thing that came to my mind. “Well I suppose the worry of making you go to the opposite side of the city are gone now.”

The laugh that came from him was one of the most stunning things I’ve ever heard. I just smiled, before laughing along with him.

For the last few months, my neighbor and I have become really close friends. When he could take a break from his hectic schedule, we’d go to museums and have dinner together. I’d often run my new ice cream flavors by him and see how he likes them while I wait nervous every time. The ones he didn’t like he would always let me down gently.

We’ve become such good friends that we even have keys to each other’s places. He even gave me a spare key to his car. Sehun is now a permanent fixture in my life too now, as is his lovely girlfriend. She reminds me of my sister with less piercings and gang affiliations. Hell, just last week I went out to a nice dinner with them and Junmyeon only to see, as they walked along the beach behind us after dinner, Sehun propose to her. It was so heartwarming, hearing how happy and excited they were. Junmyeon even teared up at the sight before I suggest we give them some privacy.

I never expected the worst thing to ever happen to me to lead to this. People in my life other than my sister. Something to look forward too other than my business and spending time with my sister. It was a breath of fresh air.

My sister just smiles at me, a spoon in the ice cream I bought her. I was sitting on my couch, facing her as she just wiggles her eyebrows at me. “You and the doc are quite close,” She says, her voice just teasing me as I hold my burrito to my face, taking a bite from it.

“We’re friends,” I say, my mouth full. I swallow the food, before rolling my eyes at the look she was giving me. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he isn’t interested. He’s a doctor, Sis, too good for an ice cream maker.”

“Bitch there is no one better than you,” She says, pointing at me with her spoon for emphasis. “He probably just don’t know you’re into him because you NEVER show any signs of anything like that. Wouldn’t surprise me if you liked him too, you’re just too emotionally stunted to show it. Or just a huge prude.”

I feel my face heat up as I sputtered out, “I’m not!”

“You’re so into him it’s clear to see. You get shyer, and you only do that when you’re either into someone or terrified of them. I know it’s not you scared because then you wouldn’t seek his company,” She says, getting a spoonful of her chocolate raspberry ice cream. “And I only know this because I’ve known you since the womb. Sehun says the feeling is mutual, by the way, so get over your fear and take a chance to try to split on that dick.”

“Sometimes the way you say things is just honestly shocking to me,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Is it because you haven’t had any in a while,” She asks, “Worried your game got weak?”

“I’m ignoring you,” I mutter, biting into my food again as I press the power for the tv.

“I’m just saying you’re not even denying it anymore.”

“I mean, I have eyes. He’s handsome,” I say with my mouth full this time. “Who wouldn’t want to?”

She smirks, “Now we’re talking! You know sis, doctors are very skilled with their hands,” She says, voice teasing me. “I had a friend who dated him when they were in college before she joined the Triad.” She looked over at me and winked, “All I’m saying is she talked up his skills a lot. Enough to make me wet from the descriptions, and she’s not one to settle for anything less than the best.” She pointed out, spooning ice cream into her mouth. Some drips down the side of her chin as she just speaks, “You deserve someone to fuck your brains out so hard it makes you dumb for the first time in your life.”

I ignored her, and thankfully the movie playing got her attention. She was always easy to deal with in this respect. Ignore long enough and her attention will be elsewhere. I just smirked to myself, a scary movie playing as I watch and laugh as my sister scream at the main girl. It was fun, and nice to just be with her. The two of us, some wine and dumb movies was or go to since we were seventeen. She’d steal the wine back then but now I just buy it. A sweet rose for me and a dry white for her.

She can hold her alcohol better than I could, though. So when I start to feel it I save the rest of the bottle for tomorrow. She’d take a taxi or a friend would get her to either hang out or hit the town.  She turns to me at the door, pulling me into a hug. I hug her tightly back. We’re opposites in a lot of ways, but the core of us are the same. She is my other half, after all.

Then, it was just myself, credits playing on the tv and two empty wine glasses. I look at the clock, seeing it was only three in the afternoon as I just sigh. She can never do these at night, could she?

I glance at my kitchen, deciding to waste the time I have until dinner just making something sweet. I love ice cream, but sometimes you just want something else. Brownies are my go to other than ice cream, so I quickly manage to throw the things together from memory. I clean everything as it was baking and hear my door open just as I pull them out the oven.

I roll my eyes, knowing it was probably my sister. She loved to come in before she leaves to start her partying often. “If you’re here to ask for a place to crash tonight, take the couch! Last time you threw up on my bed. I don’t care if you’re my twin, I’m NOT dealing with your puke again,” I say, turning my oven off.

“I wouldn’t want to deal with anyone’s puke either,” a voice says.

I turn, seeing Junmyeon there, smiling with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. I smile, seeing him in a suit, hair pushed back. “You look nice. Any reason you’re all dolled up? A date?” I glance down at my appearance, cursing that I looked like a slob right now. My hair up in a messy nest of a bun, a large old tee that has stains from wine. The sweatpants I wore were so threadbare there were holes in places and could probably fall apart any minte. If anything, it just highlights how different we are.

He flushes, “It was just a work thing. Fundraising dinner. Very boring, really, but as someone who’s worked on most of the people who are donating, the hospital thought it was best for me to go.” He shakes his head, looking at me, “These are for you. In celebration.”

I smile, looking at the colorful purple red and pink collection of flowers. I smile, taking a sniff of them with a grin before setting them on my coffee table. “They’re lovely, but I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

“Your ice cream shop has just been named best in the city,” He says, grinning. “The husband of a woman I did some work on said the list comes out officially tomorrow. They talked about restaurants and when it came to the subject of dessert, he said that your shop was the overall winner.” He holds the flowers out to me. His smiles almost blinding as I just stare dumbly, my mouth hanging open in shock.

“Really,” I ask, before moving and hugging him tightly. The cologne was subtle, not overpowering as I held him tightly. “That’s amazing!”

“I thought you’d want to know,” He laughs, hugging me back. “Got to prepare for the influx of new customers!”

Before I could even realise what I was doing, I move back and press my lips to his excitedly. When I pull away and see his shocked expression, m eyes widen and all I could feel was horror.

That’s it. I fucked up the best friendship I’ve ever had by not thinking. I put my hands over my face, feeling the heat from my embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” I muttered, though it came out really muffled from behind my hands. “I’m such an idiot. Please forgive me, I won’t do it again I swear.”

I look up to see him looking stunned for a moment, before smiling. For some reason that made me feel getter, as I let my hands down from my race, thought they were now holding onto the end of my shirt and playing with it. My nerves still sky high as I see his eyes met mine.

“If I forgive you, you won’t do it again,” He says, “But what if I want you to.”

I pause, my mind freezing as I had to think about what it is he just said. He grins, one hand moving to my face as he just leans down, softly pressing his lips to mine again. It was quick, just like before. He smiles, looking me in my eyes. “This ok,” He asks quietly, almost as if he’s scared to run me off.

I nod, feeling his hand on my face move to my neck. I place mine on his chest, my heart beating super fast as he leans down again. I feel his other hand on my hip, resting there as my brain just stops thinking for a moment. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against mine, grinning widely.

“Please tell me you feel this too,” He mutters quietly. As if my saying no would break him. “This attraction I have for you is so strong. But it’s not just physical,” He says, explaining. “It’s deeper than that.”

My heart felt like it stopped for a moment. My eyes wide at I looked at him, almost unable to believe that a man as accomplished as him was admitting feelings for me. I smile, unable to conceal how I feel from becoming clear on my face. I nod, “Yeah. I do.”

The smile on his face was beautiful. As he looked so joyed that I felt it too. It was infectious, as I grinned back. This time, when we kissed, it wasn’t as soft. There was a bite to it, a deep need that was always simmering for us. He pulled me so I was as close as possible, letting me wrap my arms around his neck.

I was literally breathless when he pulled away again. Taking deep breaths as I couldn’t contain my grin. I move, resting my forehead on his shoulder, feeling my face warm up again. He wraps his arms around me, hugging me close. When I finally got the courage to look him in the eyes, he was just smiling down at me like I was the joy of his life.

I stand on my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his again, pulling our bodies together where there is no space between us. My forward action was a surprise, apparently, as he was just still for a moment before holding me as close as he could. Hands on my hips, gripping a bit tighter than before. I moaned a bit, feeling his teeth bite my bottom lip. “Junmyeon,” I muttered quietly, feeling his lips go to my neck. My fingers in his hair, tightening a bit when he bites down on my skin. “Please,” I say, shivering as I press my hips into his.

His hands slide over my butt to my thighs, moving so he could pick me up. I wrap my legs around him to keep me steady. We didn’t move very long, as I felt my back rest against my couch.

I push the jacket off his shoulders, looking him in the eyes as he just smiles before tossing it to the side. I quickly reached for my shirt, throwing it away as I see his eyes go wide. I didn’t wear a bra, since it was getting late I took it off after baking.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he moves and kisses me feverishly, fingers lightly ghosting over my breasts, getting to my sweatpants. “Can I,” He asks in between kisses.

“Yes,” I say, “Please, Junmyeon.”

“If you keep whining my name like that I won’t last long,” He says, lips brushing over mine as he speaks. His fingers pull my clothes, taking off the last of them at the same time. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long,” He says, lips traveling south. “How you’d sound whining my name,” He says, fingertips tracing over my nipples, tongue and teeth decorating my skin. “How you’d taste,” He says, teeth biting into the flesh of one of my breasts. Not too hard, but enough to excite. I felt myself getting wetter hearing him talk to me like this, just like I fantasied. “How would’d feel wrapped around me,” He says, fingers playing with my nipples as he kept move further down. “Every fantasy was you,” He says, pushing my legs apart now. “Please,” He says, “Let me make my fantasies a reality.”

“You’d be making mine real too,” I say, smiling at him. Somehow, I didn’t feel shy. I trusted him.

The smile he gave me was stunning. He leaned down, “Then let’s get started, hm?”

It was slow. Small licks, avoiding the place I wanted his tongue the most in order to build my anticipation. One finger slipping into me, making me moan. Seeing him on his knees in front of me like this made me feel weirdly powerful. His eyes directly on mine, watching me and every reaction I make to his ministrations.

It was all too slow and not enough after what felt like ages. I whine, “Please.”

The finger in me curled right as his tongue went over my clit for the first time. All the built up felt like it paid off. Closing my eyes, I grab onto his arm that was holding one of my legs open. One finger became two, small soft licks became quicker, with more pressure. My body was shaking as I opened my mouth, going to ward Junmyeon. “I’m gonna-”

He sucks on my clit, taking my eyes roll and let the wave of ecstasy crash down on me. My body felt like it was on fire, but instead of pain all it did was feel good. Tears fell from my eyes and before I knew it, he was pulled away. I gasped, taking in deep breaths of air before glazing, seeing him taking his tie off. I move, wanting even more of him. Wanting to feel him as I get on my hands and knees, just waiting for him.

“Fuck,” He says, as I see him unbutton his shirt as he kicks off his shoes and socks too.

“Please,” I moan, still a bit breathless from my orgasm. “Hurry, I want you.”

He smirks, taking his wallet and getting a condom out of me. It was nice to know that he was being safe with me. I look, seeing his tie on the ground. I pick it up, smiling, before looking at him. I put my wrists into the look, looking at him as he just stares at me in shock.

“Who knew the innocent ice cream maker was kinky,” He mutters, looking delighted. He tightens it around my wrists, tieing them so I couldn’t just slip out.

“It’s my greatest secret,” I say, watching him quickly unbuckle his belt and push his slacks and underwear down, stepping out of them. He was hard, leaking already. I lick my lips, looking at him.

“Next time,” He says, “I don’t want to cum and not get to finally fuck you, after all.”

The condom was on, and I feel the couch shift as he moves behind me. I was excited, feeling his hand move to my hip, gripping and holding me still. “Ready,” He asks.

“Yes,” I say, looking over my shoulder and seeing him smile. I left him slowly slide in. I bite my lip, closing my eyes. It’s been a while since I’ve done this. The feeling of being full again was wonderful, the slide making every hair on my neck stand up. It just felt so right, hearing him groan from behind me, fingers digging in my skin slightly.

The first thrusts made me wonder why I haven’t been having sex for so long. I almost forgot how great it could feel, my fingers holding each other tightly. His other hand moves to my hip too, pulling back as he pushed forward, making me whine as I still bit my lip.

“Come on, I want to hear you,” He says, letting out a low groan. Letting my lip go, a loud moan left me immediately. ���That’s it,” He says, “more of that. I want everyone around us to hear.”

The thought was embarrassing but also… exciting. Knowing that people were absolutely going to know what we’re doing is a thrill. The walls are not paper thin, but if you get loud enough, you’ll hear no matter what. I was typically loud, too, so there was no way people were not going to hear. Gossip spreads here like a wildfire too.

Junmyeon’s thrusts started getting harder, making moans flow from my mouth more and more. “Yes,” I yell. I loved this, hard and fast. No one expected it from me, that’s for sure.

I feel him slip out as I look at him. He was sweating, taking my arm and pulling me. He sat down, pulling me over his lap. I lean forward, pressing my lips to his in a searing kiss. I move, sliding myself along his cock. He groans, moving and holding it to my opening. I sink down, wanting the feeling again as I put my tied wrists over his shoulders, fingers gripping his hair.

“Fuck,” He moans,” Letting his head fall back a bit. The slap of our slick skin was almost as loud as I was, as I feel his hands go to my hips. I controlled how fast we went, but anytime I moved down, he’d pull and make the thrust that much better. One hand moved, giving me a quick slap to my ass.

“Junmyeon,” I yelled, leaning back a little, changing the angle. I yelled, “I’m-”

“Go ahead,” He says, one hand moving. I feel his fingers brushing over my clit, making my eyes water.

It felt amazing, the intense wave of pleasure overcame me as he keeps pulling and pushing me up and down, making me ride it out as long as possible. It was amazing, and made my skin almost feel tingling. When I looked back to him, he pulls me up, and I see he’s still hard. I move as quick as I could on my jello legs. Kneeling in front of him, I pull the condom off, wrapping one hand around him, my mouth wrapping around the tip.

“Just like that,” He groans, his body tensing.

I took him as deep as I could, choking before pulling off to catch my breath. My hand working still while I took a breath.

“Can I cum on your face, Babe,” He asks, looking desperate to let go.

“Yes,” I say, “Please, give it to me.”

Those words must have done something to him because the second I was done talking, I felt ropes of hot cum hit my face. I closed my eyes, feeling some on my lips, my nose, even going to my forehead. He yelled a grown, before finally falling limp against the couch.

I open my eyes, looking at him with a smile. I see him look at me, I lick my lips, swallowing some of him release. He smirks, “That’s so hot.”

I smile, “I’d like to clean my face before it dries, though,” I say, guestering to my wrists.

“Sorry,” He says, moving quickly, “I’ll get a rag for you. Just rest and make sure your wrists are fine.”

“Ever the gentleman,” I say with a smile, making him laugh. He quickly moved to my kitchen, knowing where I keep clean rags after spending so much time over. He hands it to me after wetting it slightly. I smile, quickly wiping my face.

“I’d love to do the cuddling, but I’m not sure the couch is the best place,” He says, looking at me.

“I have a perfectly fine bed,” I say, “Which would be much more comfortable. And a perfect place for another round if we want.”

“I had no idea you were like this,” He says, amazed with his eyes wide.

I just laugh, cleaning up the living room before we both move to the bedroom. We make a little stop in my shower first, just to clean up. I took a bit longer, washing the little bit of cum that managed to get into my hair. When I got out, I dry and get as much water from my hair ass possible before going into my room. I see him sitting there, eyes on my t.v as it talks about the mews. I glance, seeing it talk about the Purge happening in a week and a half. I move over, resting my head on him and lacing my fingers with his. “It’ll be ok,” I mutter. “You have me. You’re not alone.”

“I never was alone, but it always felt like I was,” He says, looking over. He smiles, “But this time… it’s different.”

I smile, leaning in a pressing my lips to his in a soft kiss. I understand that. Even with my sister I felt alone. Terrified in the dark for what felt like an eternity. Now, there’s somewhere I can go to be useful. There’s someone who I can help. A difference I can make.

And it’s all thanks to Junmyeon.

[inyourwildestdreamslove]

Upside Down

Summary: You don't know much about Sweet Pea, except for what you hear in the hallways around school. You pass him on your way to and from classes and you've perhaps brushed his arm a hand full of times. You don't know him and he doesn't know you.

That is until you save his baby sister from the Ghoulies all while simultaneously getting involved in a world you want nothing to do with and events you would rather stay out of.

Too bad the Ghoulies have other ideas...

Part 2

Chapter 1: Girl Meets Instinct

You know more about the Ghoulies than you would like, and less than you should. Growing up on the Southside you learn to stay out of everyone’s way, regardless of the tattoo that adorns their body, but the Ghoulies have no honor. Not that you didn’t already know that when you came upon a scene fresh out of a bad teenage movie. A girl around maybe 10 or 11 with a once bright purple backpack, now dulled with use and age and leggings torn at the knee is being circled and taunted by 3 Ghoulies. Her black hair was knotted and fell down past her shoulder obscuring her face almost like a shield against the boys harassing her. She’s hunched forward in fear as she tries in vain to hide herself from the guys circling her.

You roll down your window in just enough time to hear something about a “little snake.”

“Hey!” you yell out the window affronted by teens easily a foot taller than the girl they are picking on. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Now you aren’t one to get caught up with the Ghoulies or the Serpents, their war was their own and you were happy to have no part of it. However, no way are you letting a kid get tangled up in the crossfire. That was Southside law, kids were left alone by gangs period.

Your outburst catches the attention of the sleazy guys and the girl’s head snaps up to meet your eyes. You can see the unshed tears of fear from here and whatever maternal instinct that lays dormant in females until needed awakens with a roar. Before you even have a moment to think about what you are doing, you are out of your beat up car and in the face of the first one you come to.

“What’s your problem?!” the guy yells, he’s missing a couple of teeth and his hair is greasy like he hasn’t had a shower in a couple of days.

“You’re my problem!” you practically spit at him, “She’s just a kid!”

“That’s none of your fuckin business,” he spits back.

“It is now,” you say with a deadly calm.

You turn towards the girl and hold your hand out to her, a clear indication she should come with you. She starts toward you when the guy turns and gets in her way the other two closing in behind her. You aren’t sure what possessed you to do it. You know it isn’t a good idea, and yet it’s pretty brilliant all the same. The Ghoulie hits the ground as you kick the back of his knee making his legs buckle and then you push him the rest of the way to the ground. The other two look up in shock obviously not thinking you would do anything.

The girl scurries over to you and you yell for her to get in the car and lock the door. Before you can fully enter the car a hand is in your hair gripping hard and pulling you away from the haven of locked doors and a clean getaway. Your back hits the pavement and suddenly three guys are standing over you leering down at your prone form.

Fear grips your heart and you can feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“Hey!” Screeches the girl as something clatters to the ground next to you. You look over and see the baseball bat from your car for instances such as this. You don’t even think about it as you snatch it off the ground and swing it towards the first guy you see. You hear a sickening crunch and a yell as he goes down.

The click of a switchblade it way too familiar as you look at the two that aren’t howling in pain on the ground. One tries to grab your leg but you kick out as you flail the bat around tring to get a hit on the other one. When your foot connects with a groin and he doubles over in pain you take the hit with no regrets. Swinging the bat down and  hitting him in the head hard enough to send him down, but not hard enough to do damage. Finally able to make it to your feet you stare the last one down.

“You’re gonna pay for this bitch!” he snarls as he turns and runs off leaving other two guys behind.

You turn and jump in the car as the sound of sirens in the distance grow louder. Your breathing is labored as you speed away and it takes several minutes for your heart to stop pounding and the reality of what you had just done to sink in.

Fifteen minutes down the road you come to a run down McDonalds and you park in the parking lot just breathing in order to calm your racing heart. That is until a voice speaks up from the back seat.

“THAT. was the COOLEST. THING. I have EVER seen!!!” She ends the sentence with a high pitched squeal of amazement and admiration.

You just nod in confusion “Ummm… if you say so?”

“No seriously! You could be a Serpent!”

“Let’s not get carried away…” you reason calmly, “I was just trying to get us both out of that situation unharmed…” Glancing down at your arms you notice a couple of bleeding cuts, no doubt from the knife. You watch for a moment as blood drips from your arms down to your pants soaking into your jeans and making you groan in annoyance.

“Relatively… unharmed…” you say with a sigh as you finally feel the sting on your skin. You reach over and pull a wad of napkins out of your glovebox to stall the bleeding while you assess the situation.

“So… What happened?” you ask catching her big brown eyes in the rearview mirror as you dab at your arms.

“My big brother didn’t show up to pick me up from school. I decided I would try to walk home even though he’s told me to never do that… I thought it would be okay! I didn’t think anyone would bother me… I was hoping he was just at home and had just… forgot me…” She ends with a worried whisper.

“Does he often forget you?” you ask softly dreading the answer regardless of what it is.

“Never.” She says with a steely conviction that is barely familiar. You’ve seen it before in the eyes of someone from some memory in your life. You don’t dwell too much on it, there are more important things at hand to deal with.

“Okay,” you say with a nod, “we’ll just have to find him then. Can you tell me where he usually is at this time?”

She just nods and says brightly, “The Whyte Wyrm!”

You just blink with understanding, “Well that explains it…” you murmur as you go to start your car and back up.

“Explains what?” She asks innocently.

“Where your brother is…” You say calmly as you back out of the parking space and pull out onto the road.

“You know where he is! Where?!”

“The police took some Serpents in for questioning about the Ghoulies, it must have just ran longer than expected! I’m sure he’ll be home soon.” The lie falls from your lips easily, no way are you going to tell a kid her brother got arrested at school today for absolutely no reason. It had been a terrifying day with drug dogs roaming the halls and Serpents getting hauled in left and right for wearing a jacket.

“Who is your brother anyway? Maybe I know him? We probably go to school together.”

“His name is Sweet Pea and he’s the best big brother ever! Do you know him?!” She asks excitedly.

“Kind of…” you say softly now recognizing the steel in her gaze. You had seen it multiple times in Sweet Pea’s eyes when he’s squaring up for a fight.

“Oh boy…” you mutter to yourself as you continue down the road vaguely wondering what you have gotten yourself into.

“Are you okay if I take you back to my house while I go get your brother?” You glance back at her in time to see her nod as she pulls a sucker out of her bag. It’s amazing how quickly a child can trust and how quickly their carefree nature returns when his happens.

“That’s fine!” she chirps before popping it into her mouth.

“Good…” you say as you take the necessary turns to get you to your place. Your house is one of the few actual houses on the southside. It’s still small and isn’t really that much bigger than a trailer but it’s well taken care of and it’s home.

Your mom meets you at the door as she looks at the little girl dutifully following along behind you in confusion.

“Honey? What’s… WHAT HAPPENED?!” She exclaims as she looks down at your arms to see the cuts littering them.

“It’s a long story…” you sigh as you walk into the house, exhaustion evident in your slumped shoulders and tone.

*~*~*~

After cleaning up your arms and putting some bandaids over the larger of the cuts you change your clothes and bring them downstairs with the hope of salvaging your jeans. They are expensive and you would rather not have to waste money on a new pair if it can be helped. Then again you muse as you put some stain remover on the red splotches, you could have some fun with them if you have to. Walking into the kitchen you see her sitting at the table happily munching on a sandwich and chips and realize that you don’t actually know her name.

“I just realized… I don’t know your name…” you say hesitantly as you glance up at your mom.

“Everyone calls me Gumdrop!” she says with her mouth full of food.

You just nod and introduce yourself before you pull your mom away to tell her what happened as she continues to gobble up all that’s in front of her. You vaguely wonder when the last time she had enough to eat, you have no idea about her and Sweet Pea’s living situation.

“I can’t believe you would put yourself in danger like that!” you mom whisper yells from the living room.

“Are you telling me you would have just let 3 thugs harass a little girl!?” you argue back.

“Of course not! But I would have been smart about it! You should have called the cops!”

“I wasn’t really thinking that far in advance mom! These guys are unpredictable and dangerous! I just wanted to get her away from them!”

“Not by putting yourself in danger!”

“Look we are both fine, I took care of it.”

You watched as your mother’s mouth formed the thin line that says that she couldn’t argue your point but she didn’t like it.

“You are your exactly like your father…” she mutters as she walks back toward the kitchen resigned for now.

You follow hastily behind and touch her shoulder to stop her from entering the kitchen just yet.

“I’m going to go get her brother.”

“And where is he?” she asks with disapproval.

“...jail…?” You say with a wince.

“And why is that?” she’s calm, but it is that calm that your mom gets when you know she is mad but she can’t be mad because there are other people present, but you know when you get home all hell is breaking loose, probably on your ass…

“Look it wasn’t his fault! The police just busted up into the high school today and started snatching up Serpent’s like cookies at a bake sale!” You flail your arms around to get your point across.

‘Why am I defending him?!’ you yell in your head as you hold your mom’s gaze.

“Serpent?!” she hisses.

“Ummm… What?! It’s not like I’m friends with him?! I literally just saved his sister from a pack of Ghoulies!”

“What is a Ghoulie?!”

“A rival gang?”

She just fixes you with a look that screams motherly annoyance, “I’m not paying for this.”

“I know…” you say with dejection as you hold up the cosmetic bag full of money.

“I’ll be back soon…” you say as you turn and make your way out the door.

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 11

You can read it here on AO3, or check out the Tumblr Chapter Index here. 

Stiles knows one thing for certain. He knows that if he and Stella get into the SUV, they’re not getting out again. He also knows that you don’t argue with a person with a gun, however much she’s smiling.

“Okay,” he says, hating the way his voice cracks on that simple word. “Okay, we’re getting in.”

Stella makes a small frightened sound beside him.

He steps forward and opens the back door of the SUV. There’s nobody in the backseat. Good.

The open door gives them a few seconds maybe, where the woman thinks he’s obeying her. And a few seconds where it obscures her vision of them. A few seconds, but he has to use them.

“Run,” he mouths to Stella, and shoves her. And says, aloud, “Okay, we’re getting in.”

A few seconds, and then he’s turning, and running, keeping himself between Stella and the woman. Keeping himself in her line of fire.

“Back up!” the woman yells at the driver. “Back up!”

And the tires of the SUV screech, and the open back door wobbles back and forth like a loose tooth as the SUV spins around in a speedy three-point turn to face them.

“Help!” Stella screams as she runs, and how does she have any breath left in the lungs at all? “Help! Help us!”

Her shoes slap on the pavement as they bolt back toward Deaton’s.

Stella hammers on the glass front door, and Stiles hems her in as the SUV closes on them.

Oh God. They’re sitting ducks now, aren’t they? Stiles shields Stella—tells himself to fall forward to cover her when he’s hit—and then he is falling, but if he’s hurt he can’t feel it, and there’s a strange popping sound, and the SUV is speeding off back into the night.

It takes Stiles a moment to figure out what happened.

It helps that he’s lying on the floor on top of Stella, and Deaton is staring down at them, eyebrows raised.

He opened the door, Stiles figures, and they both tumbled through like skittles.

Deaton isn’t their only audience though.

A man wearing coveralls with the name of the tire place across the street is hurrying toward them too.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asks. “Shit. Is that a bullet hole in your window, Alan?” And he holds up his cell phone. “I called the cops.”

Stiles should panic about that, he thinks, but at the moment he’s way too relieved to actually be alive.

***

Dad turns up, lights and sirens heralding his approach. Well, first Tara turns up, but the second she sees who’s involved, she calls Dad, and Stiles knows there’s no use telling her that it’s not necessary. It’s a lie anyway, because the moment Dad turns up, Stiles goes weak at the knees, and can barely hold himself up long enough for Stella to get her hug before he’s stumbling into Dad’s embrace as well. He’s shaking, and he can’t stop, and Dad rubs his back and makes angry, growling kind of shushing noises that fall somewhere between ‘You’re okay, son’ and ‘I’m gonna kill a motherfucker.’ Stiles finds both sentiments equally comforting, to be honest.

“Heard the little girl yellin’ as she ran down the street,” the guy from the tire place is telling Tara. “By the time I got over here, Alan had already got them inside.”

Stiles inhales heavily. Dad smells of coffee and aftershave.

Dad peels Stiles off him gently. “Talk me through it, kid.”

Stiles sucks in a breath. “We were, we were leaving the clinic, and the black SUV pulled in behind us. I didn’t get the license plate. And the woman in the passenger seat asked if we wanted a ride. I said no, and…” He shudders.

“She pointed a gun at us!” Stella exclaims, sounding more outraged than upset. “So Stiles pretended we were getting in the car, and we ran back here instead.”

“You ever seen this woman before?”

“No,” Stiles says, but he’s got a pretty good idea who it was. “She was blonde. Maybe in her thirties? White. Slim build, I guess. She was wearing a dark jacket, and I didn’t get a look at the driver. I think it was a guy.”

It’s paltry, really, the language used to describe suspects. The woman’s face is burned onto his retinas, but his ability to translate it into words is almost non-existent.

“She had a necklace,” Stella says, and Stiles doesn’t even remember a necklace. “It was silver. It had a dog on it.”

Not a dog, Stiles is suddenly sure. A wolf.

There’s no doubt in his mind the woman was Kate Argent, and he’s going to trawl Allison’s Facebook later to made certain.

“And the license plate started with a six,” Stella adds. “I didn’t see the other numbers or letters through.”

Dad looks to Deaton.

“I’m sorry,” Deaton says. “By the time I got the door open, I only saw their tail lights.”

Stiles watches as Dad’s gaze is drawn to the bullet hole in Deaton’s window.  

Attempted abductions are rare, Stiles knows. And so are attempted abductions that end in attempted murder. Sooner or later Dad’s going to have to give voice to what must be a growing suspicion that Stiles and Stella are mixed up in something weird, and that they both know more than they’re telling him.

Stiles hopes it’s later.

“But what were you kids even doing here?” Dad asks, shaking his head helplessly. “I thought you were at home.”

“We, um…” And Stiles has no idea where to go with that.  

“They brought me a stray kitten,” Deaton says, rescuing him unexpectedly.

“You found a kitten?” Dad asks, his forehead creasing.

Stiles nods.

“It was lost and sad,” Stella says, making her eyes go big. “We couldn’t just let it go hungry, Dad! I’m calling it Matilda, and can we keep it, please?”

***

Matilda, thank god, is not an imaginary kitten, and Deaton is able to produce it from out the back. It is, however, a boy kitten. A little orange tabby boy. Stella sits on the floor and pets him and coos over him while Dad and Tara go over everything with Stiles and Deaton and the guy from the tire place again.

Despite Stella’s insistence on immediately adopting Matilda, Deaton tells her he’s not quite big enough to go home with anyone yet, but that if Dad is okay with it then they can come and collect him in a week or two.

Dad, Stiles thinks, would agree to absolutely anything at this point. Stiles can tell he’s shaken at how close his kids came to being seriously hurt—or worse—tonight.

He drives them home in the back of his cruiser, and Tara drives Stiles’s Jeep.

“If there’s anything you need to tell me,” Dad begins, and then shakes his head and stops, like he can’t quite bring himself to ask. Like he can’t accuse his kids of lying, even though it’s got to be at least starting to point to that for him now.

Stiles swallows down his guilt, and plays dumb.

***

Dad heads back to work, because one thing about being the Sheriff, Stiles knows, is that it never stops. His kids were almost abducted tonight, but Peter Hale and his nurse are also missing, so Dad doesn’t get to stay home. There’s always something. And lately, in Beacon Hills, all those little somethings have been snowballing into bigger somethings. It’ll be an avalanche in a minute, Stiles thinks wildly as he locks the door behind Dad. An avalanche, and Stiles only hopes that the people he cares about aren’t caught in its path.

Who is he kidding though, really?

The avalanche has already begun, and theres’s no escaping it now.

***

Derek doesn’t answer any of his texts of phone calls. Not even when Stiles tells him that Kate Argent (thanks, Allison’s Facebook!) threatened him and Stella with a gun. Stiles tries not to feel the sting of betrayal.

Maybe Derek’s lost his phone.

Maybe Derek’s dead.

Okay, so Stiles would definitely prefer the first option to the second one, but he can’t deny the fact that the second option would also fully explain why Derek hasn’t answered. And Derek’s not exactly the guy with the best luck in the universe, is he? Who would be surprised if he was dead?

Stiles ignores the jab of pain in his gut that comes with even entertaining that possibility.

But it’s there.

He doesn’t sleep much that night.

***

Dad works through the night, and stops in for breakfast before heading out to work again.

“You go to school,” he says firmly. “You pick Stella up, and come straight back here afterwards. No going out for takeout, or trips to the mall, or kitten rescues, or anything.” He sighs, and rubs a hand over his forehead. “You’re not grounded, kiddo. This isn’t a punishment, okay? I’d just feel a hell of a lot better if I knew you kids were home, instead of gallivanting off around town.”

“That’s us,” Stiles says. “Pair of gallivanters.”

Stella snorts.

“We’ll come straight home,” Stiles says, and means it too. “No more running around town, I promise.”

“Well, except tonight,” Dad says.

Stiles goes completely blank.

“The dance, kiddo,” Dad reminds him. “You’re dropping Stella off with Melissa, remember? And you and Scott are going to the dance.”

Right.

Right, somewhere out there teenagers are having normal werewolf-less lives. Stiles used to be one of them, not that long ago. He even entertained ideas of asking Lydia to the dance—and constructed vivid fantasies where she actually said yes—and somehow he’d completely forgotten it was tonight.

“Oh,” he says, because he is not at all prepared. “Oh, shit.”

“I got your suit cleaned last week,” Dad tells him. “Also, language.”

“Mrs. McCall is going to show me how to make a blanket out of scrap material,” Stella says. “We were going to make it for my bear, but now we can get a basket and put it in it, so we’re ready for when we can bring Matilda home.”

“It’s a boy cat,” Dad says.

Stella looks at him expectantly.

Dad raises his eyebrows. “Matilda is a girl’s name.”

“Well, he doesn’t know that,” Stella points out. “He’s a cat.”

Dad considers that for a moment. “You know what? That’s a fair call, kiddo.”

Stella looks pleased.

“Be good at school,” Dad says to both of them. “Stay safe.”

He says that a lot, but there’s usually not such weight behind the words.

Stiles and Stella both stay in Dad’s hugs for a little longer than usual, and Stiles locks the door after he leaves.  

“Are you really going to the dance tonight?” Stella asks once the coast is clear.

“I guess,” Stiles says. “Like, we’ll act normal, right? And sooner or later everything will all blow over?”

Stella’s eight, and the look she gives him tells him that even she thinks that’s bullshit.

“We act normal,” Stiles says, as though repeating it will make it true. “And we just hope that Derek’s okay.”

“And Peter,” Stella says.

“What?”

“We hope that Peter’s okay too.”

“Peter has a body count, Stella.”

She shrugs. “But we’re not on it.”

Like that makes any difference.

Except maybe… maybe it does? Because Peter Hale could have killed them both back in that hospital room, but he didn’t, because they didn’t fit the pattern.

Neither did Laura Hale though, right?

Or maybe Stiles has just been looking at the wrong pattern this whole time.

[larriefails]

This new BPH2 post, she really can’t let go of 1D or the past, can she?

The amount of drivel...

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Harry was portrayed as a lothario BEFORE July 2011? By whom? Doing what? He didn’t date anyone until C*roline (sorry, I make one exception for censoring names and that’s for child groomers) in like, November 2011, there were jokes about him liking Madison, the girl from WMYB but that wouldn’t be until August anyway. Articles about various 1D members dating or hooking up with fans were run of the mill, but that was for all of them. Cher Lloyd got linked to literally every member except Louis, and that’s because he had a girlfriend. Harry was seen as flirty and fans joked around about his unfortunate pussygate moment, but clearly, he brought that on himself, and it was after X Factor anyway

The only possible “Harry is a lothario” push she could be talking about is that jokey video where Harry is seen as having overlapping dates with all the girls at boot camp, but it’s obviously tongue in cheek, it finishes with Harry going on a date with Wagner, a 50 something year old Portuguese (?) man. And this was BEFORE the band was put together. Why would Liam, or anyone, have to be seen as a lothario anyway? Confused

Louis and Hannah’s relationship wasn’t “spotlighted” they were just dating... so she was there... and they talked about it on the show I think once, maybe twice. None of the other boys had significant others at the beginning. When Zayn started dating one of the girls from Belle Amie (a girl group that was competing there as well), it was actually spotlighted, same when he dated Rebecca Ferguson

She says “switching 1Direction to One Direction” to seem knowledgeable, it’s hilarious. One Direction’s twitter account was created on October 29th 2010 and it was already stylized “OneDirection,” this is just a “the more you know” bullet point she learned that she decided to throw in there to get more credibility. Anyone that’s been a fan for long already knew this, it was stated as a fact in one of their books, but don’t ask me which one now cuz it’s been 7 years. Anyways, what an important marketing decision, Kati, it surely affected a lot of the outcome of the band that would be known as “1D” by 90% of its fanbase anyway

“But there was no larger strategy until July 2011″

NO SHIT SHERLOCK. U wanna know why? Because they didn’t have music out until August... you really are some fresh brand of stupid, huh. Who would waste money in marketing campaigns months and months before having any music to sell? All of them were heavily involved in social media anyway, and with strategic performances here and there, some interviews, a very well received book, signing days, and several other nuggets, they managed to build a stronger fanbase and a lot of anticipation by the time they released WMYB. There was definitely marketing, but, no, of course there wasn’t an overarching marketing campaign for a band with no music for six months.. Just like there isn’t, idk, a hot air balloon business for cheetahs..

And that’s how she starts.. everything after that is drivel and more and more drivel. Very little of it makes any sort of sense or is backed up by any facts other than her wanting things to be that way

Such as this entire paragraph which has me in fucking stitches

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Listen, I’m sure more older people became fans as the band became more popular, and I’m sure there are some men sprinkled in between, but PROFOUND DEMOGRAPHIC SHIFT? Except Harry and Zayn, who have cultivated an older skewing demographic, the core fan base is STILL 13-18 year old girls. And even Harry and Zayn have large percentages of their fan base in that age group still. She really thinks the tumblr side of fandom is in any way indicative of the larger fandom, it’s fascinating to read someone that’s supposed to be old and wise, who’s a mother and a wife, be so blatantly wrong and so delusional. Not even in the tumblr side of fandom now are the fans mostly older with established careers. That’s just the big Larries, and big Larries are what? 1 in 2,000 One Direction blogs? (and I doubt at least 50% of their “well established careers” are real, but I’m not into doxxing people so I’ll take their word for it)

I almost lost my mind when she called tumblr tinhat wank “objective debate and evidence-based discussion.” OBJECTIVE! O B J E C T I V E? bulletprooflarry, the person that left tumblr for a month when Harry announced his solo career because she had been saying for ages he’d never go solo and couldn’t handle being so OBJECTIVELY wrong, is talking about OBJECTIVE DISCUSSION???? Kati you wouldn’t know what actual objective discussion is if it slapped you repeatedly with something smelly while yelling “I am objective discussion” as a plane writes in the sky “objective discussion is slapping you in the face” and some sirens wailed in the distance

Not even gonna go there with “evidence-based” .. I’m sure ur tag “all the reasons ever needed” filled with cropped and edited gifs of 17 yo Harry and 19 yo Louis looking at each other for 0.03 seconds in slow mo would hold in court very well

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H I L A R I O U S. Never seen before! Novel!!!! Only happening because of “this new smarter fandom with professional experience”! No other tinhat fandom doubts the protagonists of their conspiracy theory handle their social media! That’s just the new smarter fandom filled with professional men and women in 1D. Crisscolfer, Kaylor, Supernatural, Camren, you name it. Any CT mined fandom where social media is used, believes the exact same bullshit, Kati. U R NOT SPECIAL. You’re not smarter. The Larrie fandom didn’t “wise up” it tinhatted up. If you left your conspiracy bubble for three seconds and waltzed into literally any other corner of the entertainment world, you’d see that

After this, she drivels on and on about “pics or it didn’t happen” and shit like that. None of it is special to this fandom, Kati. None of it. What you’re describing is tinhatting. It has nothing to do with “this new smarter fandom.” Unless of course you believe in every other celeb conspiracy theory out there and how all the CT fandoms have also, coincidentally, become “smarter”

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This is equal parts self centered, arrogant, delusional, and wrong. 1D’s team did a ton of things to get new fans and it succeeded largely at it. 1D was one of the largest bands in terms of fanbase in the world. It got away with selling millions upon millions of records and selling out stadiums without getting huge songs. To this day a vast majority of the general public only knows 2 or 3 One Direction songs (WMYB, SOML, some will know Drag Me Down). I think it was too big for the teams it had, for sure, but that’s just logic speaking for itself. What other clients the caliber of 1D did Simon Jones, Modest, or Syco have? The only big fish in the game was Columbia. And at times it definitely showed in a lot of things. But to say that they were playing catch up for five years and had no plan whatsoever, is simply disingenuous. And so self aggrandizing.. Recognizing that they had their failures? Cool. Sitting oatur computer at home and pretending that u kknow better how to handle it? Demented

-------

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You know when you read something that’s so wrong that you don’t even know where to start? Yeah..

You were lied about the band getting back together. One by one they have admitted to it, even if not in so many words. First Zayn said he didn’t even like being in 1D ever. Then Harry refused to ever confirm the band would get back together. You had Niall, Liam, and Louis preaching 18 months/2 years, but that soon changed. Niall got tired of being asked a few months into his promo in 2017, said “idk, man, idk! someday!” and asked not to be asked again. Liam lasted a little longer, but he literally said “ask the others, idk, man, idk!” a few months back. The only one standing is Louis, and I firmly believe it’s simply because he hasn’t done as much promo as Niall and Liam, who must’ve reached the point of exhaustion. His defeated “idk, man, idk” is happenning soon. I can feel it in my bones

There’s no leadership in 1DHQ because there is no 1DHQ because there is no 1D. The band is broken up. Gone. Donezo. There’s no one to steer one topic to the next

It’s not the “lack of leadership” which lead the fans to create “microfandoms.” It’s the fact that every member has gone solo..... that created microfandoms. You’re over 40, Kati, please, for the love of God, stop hanging onto a boyband that’s been dead for four years. This is so pathetic to read. Fans less than half your age cried about their lost band for a few days and got over it. You’re still throwing hissy fits on tumblr and talking about it as if it wasn’t deceased

----------

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Just... no

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Louis DOES NOT have the most hardcore fans inside of 1D. He has the most LARRIES. His fanbase is almost entirely conformed by conspiracy theorists, that’s why it seems so hardcore to you. This is not a positive. As a fan of Louis, I can assure you it is not. This doesn’t translate well into literally anything. Y’all are a nuisance and ruin everything. You’re not fans of Louis, you don’t even LIKE HIM. You despise everything about him and everything he is. Everything he does. All the things that have shaped him. You call everything he says a lie and mock his desperate attempts for you to LISTEN TO HIM. That’s the exact opposite of a hardcore fanbase, you shithead. That’s as fickle as it gets, it can (and does) get lost any second. The smallest of his moves can set y’all off and wipe thousands of you from his ranks. Because none of you like even a little of who he really is. Y’all are gonna leave him sooner or later. It’s just a matter of when, not if. Hardcore my fucking ass

What has Harry done to make older white men think he’s cool? Paint his nails? Wear glitter and flowery suits? Sing about men? Proclaim at every chance he gets that he LOVES his mostly female/young audience? That he thinks they’re amazing and how much he appreciates them? What is it that appeals older white men? All the rainbows in everything he does? The only thing “older white men” might like about Harry is his music and its inspiration, that’s where it starts and where it ends, but everything he’s done and said since he’s gone solo is prone to prejudice them against him. He hasn’t lifted a finger to appeal to them. His team didn’t even push his songs on Adult/Contemporary radios (Niall’s did, but I don’t see you talking about that). Yeah, Hall Of Fame will expose him to that audience as well, but you know who else did Hall Of Fame? Miley Cyrus. Was she trying to appeal to older white men? Was that Jannelle Monae’s goal while inducing Janet Jackson? He’s co chairing the MET Gala in a couple of weeks. How’s that for a white older male audience? Being a Gucci model under Alessandro Michele must’ve helped a lot, I’m sure 🙄

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“If One Direction was going to come back” NO. Next question

[the-scattered-dream]

Playing House

Hello! I started a new fanfiction with my dear friend Kamiko called "Playing house". And the summary goes like this:

Xemnas shares Master Xehanort’s goals and aspirations, yet finds himself yearning for something else than Kingdom Hearts… - In which Xemnas a lot more Terra than he should be and the consequences are terrifying. - Basically, if you like long-running and dramatic stories with hints of fluff, than this is for you! Every important character in KH will be involved, and I very proud of it. Feedback is greatly appreciated, but enough said.

A short snippet of first chapter:

He did not know how long he had been standing here.

At first, everything was blank. Empty. Nothing held any meaning or affection, blissfully empty. Yet, this false tranquility was shattered by his/thatname, unleashing turmoil that was locked behind the non-existence.

Now, all he could do was to huddle on the roof he appeared at ( how did he do this and why ), grasping at the only thing here that calmed instead of inflaming as if it was a lifeline.

...There was something terribly familiar about the stars that called out to him, a strange longing for things he couldn’t quite remember. The almost-feeling of home and companionship, like a ray of light, was the only thing that allowed him to stay steady in the storm of impressions and memories clashing with each other. He welcomed that surety, as it was one of the few things that wasn’t trying to split him in half, agreed by both warring forces within.

Yet, the images playing on the screen at his back called out to all of him, like a siren’s song. It was painful just to look at these ever-changing things that flickered and disappeared before he could get a proper look and even worse - to try and make sense out of any of them, but… wasn’t it his greatest desire, to remember? Didn’t he pursue his past with abandon, back then? Didn’t he… kill his Master/Father/Friend  ...trying to reach it?

With great effort he turned around, away from the distant lights in the sky that promised guidance, and plunged into the confusing yet so intriguing abyss.

As if to mock his decision the screens showed him the night sky illuminated by a meteor shower, a spectacular vision that did not linger for long, no. Instead, it flickered to Braig’s laughing face…still intact and with both his eyes. No-wait, another image overlaid it, almost identical, except now half of it was covered in bloodied bandages.

“You must fight! You can’t let this ruffian win.” He remembered yelling… or was it hearing? Static filled the screens and his head both. Different voices, all his, play in repeat inside his head.

“..have taken yet another step forward”

“But I was consumed by anger..hatred. That was the power of darkn-.”

“......-ou channeled.”

“Jus-.....wh-.....heart.”

“ Join me .”

Link!

[celestedeacon]

On the Side of the Angels Chapter 11

TITLE: On the Side of the Angels Chapter 11 PAIRING: (Castiel/Celeste) RATING: T CHAPTER: 11/? SUMMARY: Celeste, the daughter of a fallen angel and mortal. Ever since she was born, the angels were given orders to protect her, specifically Castiel and Gabriel. When she was 16, she was in a horrific car accident, which Castiel saved her from. When Castiel comes back to Earth, she’s in his thoughts 24/7. This poses a problem for him. How can he love her and still follow orders?

Loud sirens were going off as Castiel stepped onto the scene of the crash.

It was at least a 10 car pileup.

Castiel briefly worried about the humans that may have been involved and whether they were okay or not. His mind went back two years to when Celeste was in her car crash. He could still hear her cries and screams for help. He remembered the fear he felt that day.

He shook his head to clear his mind of those thoughts. Castiel waved his hand and silenced the car sirens. He walked over to a woman’s body, clad in white. He knelt down next to the body and moved part of her clothing off her neck.

There was a stab wound in the center of her chest.

“Goodbye, sister”, he said and disappeared as the authorities arrived on scene. He appeared in Celeste’s bedroom.

Celeste’s eyes shot open and she sat up.

Castiel placed a finger on his lips and Celeste nodded. He’d been visiting her more often, but only if Gabriel was out of the house doing whatever it was he did.

Both Castiel and Celeste suspected the archangel knew about their secret meetings, but he said nothing about it.

Castiel laid down next to Celeste and she curled up on his chest. “Another one was killed tonight”, he told her.

“I’m sorry”. Celeste knew how much he cared for his fellow angels. “I hope you catch them soon”. She couldn’t bear the thought of Castiel getting hurt or maybe even killed.

“Me too”, he said, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Sam and Dean entered their hotel room. Sam flipped on the lights and Castiel and Uriel stood in the room.

“Winchester and Winchester”, Uriel said.

“Oh come on”, Dean sighed.

“You are needed”.

“Needed? We just got back from needed”.

“Now, you mind your tone with me”.

“No, you mind your damn tone with us”.

“We just got back from Pamela's funeral”, Sam told them.

“Pamela. You know, psychic Pamela? You remember her. Cas, you remember her. You burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times. Yeah, then she died saving one of your precious seals. So maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!” Dean yelled.

“We raised you out of hell for our purposes”, Uriel said.

“Yeah, what were those again? What exactly did you want from me?”

“Start with gratitude”.

Dean scoffed. “Oh”.

“Dean, we know this is difficult to understand”, Castiel said trying to calm the situation down.

“And we…” Uriel said giving Castiel a look, “—don't care. Now, seven angels have been murdered, all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight”.

“Demons?” Dean asked.

Uriel shrugged.

“How they doing it?”

“We don't know”.

“I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it? I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?” Sam asked.

“We can handle the demons, thank you very much”, Uriel snapped.

“Once we find whoever it is”, Castiel said.

“So you need our help hunting a demon?” Dean asked.

“Not quite. We have Alastair”.

“Great. He should be able to name your trigger man”.

“But he won't talk. Alastair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse”.

“Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture. I mean, you guys are out of your league”.

While the angels weren’t paying attention, Sam swiped Dean’s phone and texted Celeste: Halo. SOS.

“That's why we've come to his student. You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got”, Uriel said.

Celeste appeared between Uriel and Dean. “Now wait just a damn second”, she said putting her hands on her hips.

Dean looked down at the small blonde.

“The Nephilim”, Uriel said.

Celeste turned to Castiel. “You can’t be serious Cas! He can’t do this. I understand you want to find out who’s killing your garrison, but this is insane!”

“We have no choice. Dean, you are our best hope”.

“No. No way. You can't ask me to do this, Cas. Not this”, Dean said agreeing with Celeste.

Uriel shoved Celeste out of the way and walked up to Dean. “Who said anything about asking?”

They were suddenly standing in an abandoned warehouse without Sam.

“This devil's trap is old Enochian. He's bound completely”, Castiel explained to Dean.

“Fascinating”. Dean turned away from Alastair and said, “Where's the door?”

“Where are you going?” Castiel asked.

“Hitch back to Cheyenne, thank you very much”. Dean walked past Uriel and then stopped because Uriel stood in his way.

Celeste jumped between the two men.

“Get out of my way, abomination”, Uriel snapped.

“If you want him, you’re going through me first”.

“Angels are dying”.

“Sounds like your own damn problem”.

“Everybody's dying these days. And hey, I get it. You're all-powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this”, Dean said turning to Castiel.

“This is too much to ask, I know. But we have to ask it”.

Dean watched Castiel for a moment and then turned back to Uriel. “I want to talk to Cas alone”.

“I think I'll go seek revelation. We might have some further orders”, Uriel said.

“Well, get some donuts while you're out”, Dean told him.

Both Uriel and Celeste laughed. “Ah, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy”, Uriel said and then vanished.

“You guys don't walk enough. You're gonna get flabby”, Dean said and Celeste laughed.

Castiel didn’t react, except to narrow his eyes at Dean.

“You know, I'm starting to think junkless has a better sense of humor than you do”, Dean said.

“Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison. Ask anyone”.

Celeste rolled her eyes at Castiel. Even after all these years, the angel still didn’t understand sarcasm.

Dean walked up to Castiel. “What's going on, Cas? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?”

“My superiors have begun to question my sympathies”.

“Your sympathies?”

“I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You”, Castiel said, his eyes landing on Celeste for a moment, “They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment”.

“Well, tell Uriel, or whoever...you do not want me doing this, trust me”.

“Want it, no”, Castiel said agreeing with Dean, “But I have been told we need it”.

“You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out”.

“For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this”.

Dean closed his eyes and then wheeled a cart into the room.

This left Castiel and Celeste alone. Celeste hopped up on the table. Castiel turned to her.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asked her.

She pulled out her cell phone, showing him the text from Sam.

Castiel sighed.

“Trust me. It took a lot to get out of the house. Gabe’s had me trapped there. He told me about everything. The boys, the seals. He warned me to stay away from those Winchester boys”, she said.

“You shouldn’t be here”.

“Well too damn bad, Cas. Because I am”.

“Celeste, you do not understand. You could get killed in all this”.

“But you’re here”, she said.

Castiel looked at her as Alastair started yelling in pain. Castiel wanted Celeste to go home and stay out of all this, but he knew her pure heart wouldn’t let her.

The light flickered, catching Castiel and Celeste’s attention. The bulb exploded.

Anna appeared behind Castiel.

“Anna”, Castiel and Celeste said together.

“Hello, Castiel. Celeste”.

Castiel turned to look at her. “Your human body…”

“It was destroyed, I know. But I guess I'm sentimental. Called in some old favors and...”

Alastair’s screams became louder.

“You shouldn't be here. We still have orders to kill you”, Castiel told her.

“Somehow I don't think you'll try. Where's Uriel?”

“He went to receive revelation”.

“Right”.

Somehow, Celeste didn’t like the way she said that.

“Why are you letting Dean do this?” Anna asked.

“He's doing God's work”, Castiel said.

“Torturing? That's God's work? Stop him, Cas, please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have”.

“Who are we to question the will of God?”

“Unless this isn't his will”.

“Then where do the orders come from?”

“I don't know. One of our superiors, maybe, but not him”.

Celeste hopped down off the table. “I hate to say it, but maybe she’s right Cas”. As for who was giving the orders, Celeste had a strong feeling it may have been one the archangels.

“The father you love. You think he wants this? You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous?” Anna asked.

Castiel couldn’t look Anna in the eye. He was like a little boy being scolded by his mother.

“What you're feeling? It's called doubt”, Anna told him. Anna touched Castiel’s hand. “These orders are wrong and you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid, Cas. I was too. But together, we can still…”

“Together?” Castiel yanked his hand away. “I am nothing like you. You fell. Go”.

“Cas”.

“Go”.

Anna vanished.

Castiel turned to Celeste who had tears in her eyes.

“Should I go too?” she asked.

Castiel moved closer to her, but Celeste backed away.

“I might as well be fallen. Does that mean you should kill me too?”

“Celeste. Please understand”.

Before Celeste could say something, they heard commotion coming from the room. They burst in and Castiel grabbed Ruby’s knife, jamming it into Alastair’s chest.

Alastair dropped Dean and Celeste ran over to him. “You’ll be fine”, she said stroking his hair.

Dean went limp.

Celeste looked and saw Alastair trying to send Castiel back to heaven. She rolled her eyes.

When would people learn to not fuck with her angel?

Just as she was about to go after him, Alastair was forced up against the wall by Sam. Celeste went over to Castiel and helped him up as Alastair started saying how it wasn’t demons killing the angels.

Castiel and Celeste shared a look.

The whole room started to shake as Sam killed Alastair.

When Alastair was dead, Celeste turned to Sam and said, “We need to get Dean to the hospital”.

The next day, Castiel and Celeste went to the hospital to check on Dean.

They met with Sam before going in the room.

“Sam…” Castiel started to say.

“Get in there and heal him. Miracle. Now”.

“I can't”.

Sam turned to Celeste and said, “You do it then”.

“I don’t know how. Because I would, believe me”.

“You and Uriel put him in there”.

“No”, Castiel argued.

“Because you can't keep a simple devil's trap together”.

“I don't know what happened. That trap...it shouldn't have broken. I am sorry”.

“This whole thing was pointless. You understand that? The demons aren't doing the hits. Something else is killing your soldiers”.

“Perhaps Alastair was lying”, Castiel said, not wanting to believe it. He and Celeste had discussed who could be killing the angels and it pointed to one person.

“No, he wasn't”, Sam said, walking away from them.

“Go and do what you have to do. I’ll stay with him”, Celeste said kissing Castiel on the cheek.

Castiel returned to the hospital and found Dean in much better condition.

Celeste sat next to Dean’s bed. “Hey”, Celeste said softly.

Castiel walked over to her and stroked her hair with his hand. “Are you all right?” Castiel asked Dean.

Dean opened his eyes and looked over at Castiel and Celeste. “No thanks to you. She’s done more than you did”.

Celeste smiled at Dean. She had somehow managed to heal him enough to have his breathing tube taken out.

“You need to be more careful”, Castiel told him.

“You need to learn how to manage a damn devil's trap”.

“That's not what I mean. Uriel is dead”.

“What?” Celeste asked Castiel, not quite sure she was hearing him correctly.

“Was it the demons?” Dean asked.

“It was disobedience. He was working against us”, Castiel explained.

Celeste wanted to say “I told you so”, but chose not to. Her angel didn’t need to be kicked even more while he was down.

“Is it true? Did I break the first seal? Did I start all this?” Dean asked.

“Yes. When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid siege to hell and we fought our way to get to you before you…”

“Jump-started the apocalypse”.

“But we were too late”.

“Why didn't you just leave me there, then?”

“It's not blame that falls on you, Dean, it's fate. The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it. You have to stop it”.

“Lucifer? The apocalypse? What does that mean?”

Castiel looked away from him.

“Hey! Don't you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. What does that mean!?” Dean yelled as loud as he possibly could in his condition.

“I don't know”.

“Bull”.

“I don't. Dean, they don't tell me much. I know our fate rests with you”.

“Well, then you guys are screwed. I can't do it, Cas. It's too big. Alastair was right. I'm not all here. I'm not—I'm not strong enough. Well, I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be. Find someone else. It's not me”. Dean hung his head and started to cry.

Celeste got up and dragged Castiel out into the hallway. “Lay off him. Can’t you see he’s been through enough”.

“You know as well as I do that it has to be him”, Castiel said, his blue eyes bearing down into hers.

She could see emotions flying around in his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked him, cupping his cheeks.

“I’m no longer following the orders of heaven”.

Celeste’s heart started beating quickly.

“I…I don’t know what to do. For the first time”, he said.

“Shh”, she cooed, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs, “You have me. I’ll always be here”. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his and for once, Castiel returned the kiss. Maybe she and her angel could finally be together now.

Tags: @waddles03

[neverwatchedonepiece]

579-580: "Arriving! a Burning Island – Punk Hazard!" and "A Battle in the Heat! Luffy vs. the Giant Dragon!"

Sorry, I couldn’t wait. xD

Delayed gratification? 

Self-control?

Nah. Afraid not. The New World was calling and its siren song was far too strong. Plus, this arc has a killer name: Punk Hazard. I’ve itching to get to it ever since I saw the arc list on CR. And everything is on fire! (Except the part that’s not.)

But I’ve already said too much.

Luffy’s Nose: Meat-Detector and Trouble-Sniffer

Could it be the smell of burning island?

Now I get why you guys were mad at the filler interrupting the canon entry into the New World. The Strawhats were sailing back from wherever their filler adventures had taken them (I will go back and watch Film Z. Honest). Next thing, Zoro spots something interesting from the crow’s nest.

“What’s that? A red sea?” 

It quickly emerged that Zoro did not mean an inlet of the Indian Ocean between the continents of Africa and Asia. No. The sea was red because it was literally on fire. Volcanoes erupted. Lightning shrieked from the sky. Lots of dead, skeletonized fish bobbed in the water.

Awesome. I thought. That is totally metal. This will be fun.

Though fire is a rubber person’s natural enemy, Luffy thought the same. “LET’S GO TO THAT ISLAND!” he yelled.

Yes, Luffy! Please do. :D

Then something sketchy happened. Sunny’s DDM rang. It made a strange, wailing sound Luffy had never heard before. He asked the DDM if it had a stomachache (that was hilarious and oddly thoughtful of him). 

Sanji put him straight. “Luffy, you walnut, that’s an emergency signal.” 

Robin also added, “Most of them are fake. It’s a tactic the Marines use a lot.” (That was a cool, little detail. A hint that maybe the Marines tried to pull this on Robin in the past?)

Luffy processed this information then ignored it immediately. He picked up with his customary greeting: “HELLO, MY NAME IS MONKEY D. LUFFY AND I WILL BECOME THE PIRATE KING.” I should not find this funny now, but I still do. Every damned time. Luffy does not give a crap who knows he’s in the vicinity. I also love that DDM trope and hope Oda never stops using it.

The distress call was from some poor sap on Punk Hazard. “It’s cold, is this the boss? It’s cold. Our guys were cut one after the other. Samurai are gonna kill us! Please help. I’m on Punk Hazard--”

The message cut off abruptly due to premature death (by cutting, I assume).

Robin was convinced the messenger was attempting to lure them into a trap (she wasn’t that far off). Zoro, of course, zoomed in on the samurai.

Brook explained that the samurai was the name for the people of Wano Kingdom (remember the zombie samurai who possessed Brook’s shadow in Thriller Bark and passed on Shusui to Zoro? He came from there). Apparently, the Wano Kingdom is completely closed off to the outside world. It is unaffiliated with the World Government to the point that even Marine ships cannot approach (I’m getting North Sentinelese vibes here, minus the technology aspect).

But Brook was puzzled as to why samurai had been brought up. Distress signal guy said Punk Hazard, not Wano Kingdom. Why were samurai being mentioned? Plus, he said it was cold. Punk Hazard was literally burning. Also, the signal of a baby DDM carried by crews on exploration missions would only stretch as far as Punk Hazard to the Sunny. Why samurai and Wano?

Okay, I thought. This is going well so far. An island is burning. The sea is on fire.  A shady distress signal. A proper mystery is cooking here.

Then things got really interesting.

The action cut to Smoker’s G-5 ship. Robin was right! The Marines *do* listen in to emergency calls. Now Smoker knows the Strawhats are on Punk Hazard. But this was a pain in the ass for them. Punk Hazard had been sealed and made a restricted area after what happened four years ago. How could any living thing exist there? Plus, None of Nami’s new Log Pose needles pointed in the direction of this island, which was in itself suspicious. I wonder if the WG deliberately messed with Punk Hazard’s magnetic field so no one would come across the island by accident?

I felt like a ray of light pierced the heavens.

Disused government facilities is one of my favourite tropes. Resident Evil 2 was one of my favourite games as a kid. Ever since, I’ve loved the, “Oh, crap. Something went kaboom. Abandon ship! And now the protagonist must fight their way out” action plot trop.

Smoker ain’t the type of guy to let that phase him. “We’re going,” he said. So the Marines will show up at one point too. I’m glad. I missed Smoker. He’s been chasing Luffy for years. Gotta give the guy some panel time.

Mythical Creature BBQ

The Strawhats debating over who would escort Luffy to ensure he didn’t do anything dumb was hilarious. Nami was right, though. Luffy has no sense of self-preservation. They drew straws and Zoro, Robin and Usopp were chosen. (Poor Usopp. His disorder flared up again. xD)

Nami used another trick up her sleeve to make a cloud road (a la Skypiea) that soared over the flames, allowing mini Merry to sail over, unscathed. Downside? The road will eventually dissipate, potentially leaving the others stranded. Not so good.

When the reconnaissance team landed, they found Punk Hazard enclosed by an ominous, metal wall. Huge, “DANGER: KEEP OUT!” signs, stamped with the World Government and Marine sigils boosted the peril factor (nice). Of course, massive metal walls are no barrier to Zoro. He sliced open the gate and in they strolled!

Usopp was the only Strawhat who was really dressed for Punk Hazard, with his bare chest and overalls. The place was boiling. Volcanically hot to the point magma leaked from the stones beneath Usopp’s feet. Everything was burning. (By accident or on purpose?) Once Robin surveyed the dwellings, she concluded they were probably not people’s homes. (Evidence for a secret government training facility is growing by the minute here.)

Luffy called out to the Distress Signal Guy. (Was he stupid? This place is boiling! xD) 

Then, randomly, they encountered a supposed mythical creature. Not *the* dragon, as in Monkey D., but a fanged, fire-breathing monster that talked! 

I should learn not to get too attached to monsters in One Piece because they end up on the BBQ half the time. xD  It was cool that Luffy, Zoro, Usopp and Robin encountered a little difficulty in taking it down. Again, that ups the peril factor, which is great. 

Still not quite sure how the guy who was stuck on the dragon’s back managed to make it talk, but I guess I’ll learn how next episode. The only thing I can say is that I don’t think he’s the biggest fan of the Shichibukai. “Are you allies of the Shichibukai too?”

Arc Villain: Gru and his Minions?

Back on Sunny, where it was supposedly safer, kidnappings were afoot! (Excellent. Now everyone’s involved.)

Poor Chopper was wilting in the heat, eating his ice cream. Even Brook and Franky were feeling the burn. Sanji was in the kitchen, preparing some cool snacks, because only a chef who endures the fire of a kitchen every day would be able to endure said heat. I mean, the guy never even took his suit off. He must be flame-retardant.

While Sanji did his thing, outside on the deck, a sinister, Darth-Vader-breathing presence drew near. They placed a canister of sleeping gas on board. One by one, the Strawhats succumbed. (Including Brook, which was kind of weird, but Oda’s Universe, Oda’s Rules.)

For one minute, I thought Sanji might dodge the gas and there would be a grand return to the Sneaky Sanji running gag. But no. He opened the door, got a faceful of the gas, and almost, *almost* reached the DDM to call Luffy before passing out. Argh. Sanji was carted out with the rest by the strange, cycloptic yellow minions.

But Brook was left alone. I knew it! Ever since he was almost overlooked by Hordy’s goons on FMI, I figured Brook would be useful as a stealth agent. No one ever suspects the skeleton! I guess Sanji is in the limelight now. Now more sneaking around for him. Brook has taken over the mantle. Go, Brook!

The Strawhats are being taken to “The Master.” 

I am excited.

I love that these minions think that the “two humans, a cyborg and their pet” will not be missed by anyone. No one except the G-5 ship and an angry Vice-Admiral Smoker heading your way. >:D

Love how these two are tucking into lunch when the sea is literally on fire below them.

[myownsuperintendent]

New Fic: “I Can’t Go Back There Anymore” (1960s AU Part III)

When Diana Fowley returns to New York's hippie scene after selling out and moving away, Melissa Scully is happy to have her best friend back.  But the complications Diana brings into the burgeoning relationship between Melissa's sister Dana and Fox Mulder force Melissa to examine her own feelings for Diana.  Part III in my 1960s AU--I especially recommend reading Part I, which is here, to understand it.  It takes place the year after Part I (Part II, which is here,  is kind of a parallel entity).  Melissa/Diana, MSR, past Mulder/Diana.  Rated T for sex, drugs, and profanity.  Title is from Joni Mitchell’s “I Had a King.”

Also here on Ao3.  I now am the only fic in two pairings on Ao3 (Melissa/Diana and Ned/Brienne from A Song of Ice and Fire) and I am VERY excited about it. 

.....

The woman standing on the front steps of her building was wearing a crisp blue dress and had her hair in a perfect flip, and as she walked towards her, Melissa wondered how she ended up in this neighborhood.  But when she got closer, the woman turned around and said, “Hi,” giving her a tentative smile, and Melissa’s breath caught.  Because it was Dee.

She’d tried to tell herself that she didn’t think about Dee much, not anymore.  She certainly hadn’t talked about her in months. When she first moved back to Boston, that was mostly a practical thing—it wasn’t worth bringing up Dee in conversation unless you wanted to see Mulder get depressed, which wasn’t something Melissa had any interest in—although some of it was for herself too, she had to admit.  Seeing her now, she didn’t know what to say.

“What did you do to yourself?” was what came out of her mouth.

Dee rolled her eyes. “I grew up,” she said, and it honestly made Melissa want to laugh more than anything, that snotty tone that she somehow couldn’t mind, because it was so familiar.  

“What are you doing here?” she said.

“I came to visit,” Dee said, and then Melissa noticed the bag next to her, perched tentatively on the edge of the step as if it weren’t sure that it wanted to be in this environment.  “Can I stay?” Dee asked, and her voice was tentative too, in a way that acknowledged, maybe, that Melissa didn’t have to say yes.

She did say yes. “Yeah, come on up, Dee,” she said, unlocking the door, and they started up the stairs.  They’d done this so many times, back when they lived together (was it really just a year ago?), and it felt oddly like they were still friends.

“Nobody calls me Dee now,” Dee said, as they walked.

“Oh?” Melissa said. “What do they call you?” Certainly they’d all called Dee plenty of things among themselves, especially right after she left.  Dee, that traitor, that sell-out, that selfish bitch.

“Just Diana,” Dee said.  “That’s my name, after all.”

“Well,” Melissa said, “I can call you that if you want, Diana.”  She drew out the syllables, emphasizing the word.  It sounded weird, not right.

“No, it’s all right,” Dee said.  “I was just thinking about it.  Nobody calls me Dee except you guys.”  Calls, she said, like they did it every day. Like the three of them were still living here together, Starchild in the room next to the kitchen and Melissa in the one with the fire escape and Dee in the corner one, staying up until all hours smoking and listening to music and baring their souls, telling secrets they’d never told.  “It looks the same,” she added when Melissa opened the door, letting her back across the threshold.

“Yeah, what did you expect?” Melissa said.  “Were we supposed to paint the place black because you moved out?”  She didn’t like the way her voice sounded, hard and antagonistic; she didn’t want to be this way, especially not with Dee.  But Dee just looked at her for a moment and then laughed, her same old laugh, and then followed Melissa into her room.  She could see Dee looking around there too, taking things in. “You still have it up,” she said, sitting down on Melissa’s bed (without asking, of course) and touching the edge of the photograph.  It was the three of them, smiling, sitting on a wall with their signs before a march last year.  Frohike had taken it.  He’d called them seditious sirens.

“Yeah,” Melissa said. She didn’t know what else to say. Dee smiled.  Melissa wondered if she still had the picture too.

“Do you guys have someone new living here?” Dee asked.

She wanted to snap at Dee, say that of course they did, that they weren’t just going to leave the third bedroom empty forever in loving memory of Diana “Dee” Elinor Fowley, Our Traitorous Former Friend.  The thing was, though, in a way they had.  Shannon lived there now, sure, and paid a third of the rent, and did substantially more of the cooking than Dee had ever done (Dee could make toast, that was all), and yet it wasn’t anything like it had been.  They were three roommates now, not three best friends. Even with Melissa and Starchild, it wasn’t quite the same.  

She wouldn’t tell Dee all that.  “Yeah,” she said.  “Shannon. She’s cool.”

“And Starchild’s still here?” Dee asked.  Melissa nodded.  “Can we…should we tell her I’m here?”

“She’s not here right now,” Melissa said.  “She’s at the guys’, I think.”

“Really?” Dee said. “That’s on again?”

“For about three weeks now,” Melissa said.  Starchild’s thing with Byers was, to say the least, tumultuous; it was hard to keep track of it all, but, to hear Starchild tell it, the main issue stemmed from Byers’s refusal to understand that she wanted to live her belief in Free Love, not just talk about it.  They had been on and off so many times that Melissa could barely keep track of it any more, and by now no one seemed particularly phased by it.  

“Long time for them,” Dee said, and then she looked at Melissa with that smile of hers, and Melissa couldn’t help smiling back, and then they were both laughing, without warning. Laughing easily, sharing the joke, floating on their history.  

“Hey,” Melissa said when they stopped laughing, “I missed you.”  It felt better, once she’d gotten it out.

“I missed you too,” Dee said.  

“I should have called,” Melissa said.  She’d thought about it, thought about it a lot.  But then she’d never known what she would say if she called, if she would yell at Dee for leaving or just catch up, tell her they were fine without her or beg her to come back.  And of course, there was the way they all talked about Dee, which made even wanting to call her seem almost like a sin.  Even thinking about that made her feel stupid, though.  She’d done all this—dropped out of college even—because she wasn’t going to be someone who just did what everyone else did.  She was going to be someone who made her own choices. She should have called.

“What, you call?” Dee asked, laughing again, and Melissa laughed too, because she had a point. She hardly ever called anyone, even when their chronically out of service phone was actually working.

“I could have, though,” she said.  “I should have.”

Dee shrugged. “I could have called you too,” she said. “So we’re even.  Anyway, I’m here now.”  She stretched out on the bed.

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “How long are you going to stay?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Dee said.  “We’ll see.”

“Are you still working for Senator—?”  Melissa paused, momentarily forgetting the man’s actual name.  Senator Scuzzbag, they all called him among themselves. That was what had shocked her the most, when it came to Dee.  Not that she’d left, or even that she’d left so suddenly, but that she’d left to work for a man who was the polar opposite of everything she’d once claimed to stand for. She’d sent them a message loud and clear: I’m not one of you anymore.

Dee didn’t seem to notice the pause.  “We’ll see,” she said again, and then, probably realizing that didn’t clarify much of anything, she said, “Well, I am, for now.  But I might move back here.”

“Here?” Melissa asked. “With us?”  The idea was more exciting than it had a right to be.

“Well, New York, anyway,” said Dee.  “I just…I can’t stand being so close to my parents.  You know.”  

Melissa certainly did know.  She hadn’t been in her own parents’ presence for longer than a week since last year, and it was more than enough.  They didn’t see eye to eye, not these days, and she and her dad got into arguments, and it always made her mom cry, which she didn’t want.  She just wanted to be with people who understood her.  She wanted Dee to be one of those people, still. “You can stay with us for now, at least,” she said.  “I mean, it’s cool with me, anyway.  And I’m sure it’ll be cool with Starchild and Shannon.”

“Great,” Dee said. Her smile again.  It all seemed worth it.  “How is everyone, anyway?  What are you up to?”

“Still fighting the good fight,” Melissa said.  “We went to some stuff for Angry Arts Week.  It was far out.  And I’m still waitressing, and Starchild’s still working at Venus.  You know, we’re all doing the same kind of thing.”

Dee was rummaging in her bag.  She pulled out a lipstick and a compact, with DEF in gold on the back, popped the compact open, and started fixing her lipstick in the mirror.  Melissa was wondering about this sudden urge to apply makeup when Dee spoke, her voice neutral, her eyes still fixed on the compact mirror.  “And Fox?”

Melissa wondered how much she should say.  She didn’t think she should tell the whole story, didn’t think it would help anyone involved if she told Dee how upset Mulder had been, how you couldn’t have a conversation or eat a meal or smoke a joint or go to a march with him at first without him finding some way to bring up her name, and then probably crying. How eventually they’d all started avoiding the subject out of sheer self-preservation.  Maybe it would do some good if she said it, would make Dee see how she couldn’t just waltz off and assume everyone would be fine, but she didn’t think it would be right.  Besides, he was fine now.  Happy. Weirdly happy, in fact, with Dana, and Melissa would never have picked them out for one another but now she secretly kind of wanted them to get married and have a million kids, not that she would say that out loud, because it made her sound like a sap.

“He’s fine,” she said, eventually.  “He’s actually…he’s going out with my younger sister.  Dana.  I think you met her once?”

Dee made a noncommittal noise and went over her lipstick again.  “Oh,” she eventually said.  She didn’t say anything else, and Melissa decided to let the matter drop, especially since the door to the apartment banged at that moment.  She went to the door of her room; there was Starchild, looking mildly pissed off.

“Hey,” Melissa said. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah,” Starchild said.  “I dumped Byers.  He was being a square again.”

“Oh,” Melissa said. “You doing all right?”

“Yeah,” said Starchild.  “I’m going to make brownies.  You want some?”

“Sure,” Melissa said. “Just…before we do that.  Dee’s here.”  And Dee walked out of the room, standing in the doorway behind Melissa. Honestly, Melissa wasn’t sure how Starchild was going to take this.  The three of them had been so close, but since Dee had left, Starchild had barely ever mentioned her.  Melissa had wanted her to, sometimes.  She would have felt less alone then.

Starchild cocked her head, looking at Dee.  “Oh,” she said.  “Hey. You got tired of kissing up to the man?”

“I don’t kiss up to anyone,” Dee said.  That haughty look she sometimes got.

“Sure,” Starchild said.  “Well, anyway.  If you’re not going to be a jerk anymore, glad you’re back.”  And she hugged Dee, quickly.  “You look dumb as hell in that dress, though.  Go put something normal on and then we’re making brownies.”

“I don’t—”

“You can borrow from me,” Melissa put in quickly.  They’d all swapped things, when the three of them lived together.  “Meet you in the kitchen.”

Dee appeared in the kitchen in a dress which came down to Melissa’s ankles, but on her only to mid-calf.  “And you said my dress looked dumb as hell.”

“Yeah, well, get shorter,” Melissa said, scooting aside to make room for her on the table. “So, Starchild, why exactly did you guys break up this time?”

Starchild shrugged. “Same old.”

Melissa remembered so many nights: ones like the way this one turned out to be.  The three of them sprawled on the living room floor, playing records, pleasantly stoned, talking, talking, talking.  Right up until the end, it was always like that.  One night in particular she remembered: a night kind of like this one, because Starchild had just dumped Byers.  “He cannot expect me to only sleep with one man for the rest of my life,” she’d kept saying over and over.  “That is ridiculous.  He doesn’t own my body.”

“You tell him,” Dee had said.

“He’s not even so amazing,” Starchild said.  “Like, I’ve been with better guys, you know?  Way better guys…”  She stared at the ceiling in concentration.  “There was this guy, when I was in college?  His name was Elmer…”

“Elmer?” Melissa said, cracking up.  At that moment, it seemed like the funniest name in the world.

“Shut up, you,” Starchild said amiably.  “I know it’s not, whatever, the greatest name.  But he was an amazing lay.  I didn’t know I had all those places in my body, right?  All those…those…”  She fumbled for the word.  Melissa and Dee watched her soberly.  “Erogenous zones.”  She nodded, blew out a puff of smoke.  “He was the best I ever had.  Poor Elmer.”

“Why was he poor?” Dee asked.

“You think everyone’s poor,” Melissa said.  “Just because your dad owns all those boats…”

“I didn’t say he was poor, Starchild said he was poor,” said Dee.  “And they’re ships.”

“I know about ships,” said Melissa.  “Don’t think you can tell me about ships, because I know about them.”

“I said poor Elmer,” Starchild said, “because I think he’s dead now.  In Vietnam.”  She raised the joint as if in a toast.  “Fuck the war.”

“Fuck the war,” Melissa and Dee said, solemnly, nodding, and then Starchild passed the joint to Melissa and sat back against the couch.

“How about you guys?” she asked.  “Who was your best?”

“I think Fox is my best,” Dee said.  She was lying back on the floor, her dark hair loose around her pale face.  Melissa watched her while she smoked.  “He’s really…really sweet, you know?  I didn’t think I’d like it so sweet.  But I do, when it’s him.”  Her smile, bright and luminous.  “You know, I think I love him.”

Melissa exhaled. “Lucky.”  She passed the joint to Dee, their fingers brushing.  

“How about you?” Dee asked.  They were both looking at her now.

“Not like I have much choice, is there?” Melissa said.  “I’ve only been with the one guy.”

“That’s right,” said Starchild.  “What’s his name.”

“Jerry,” said Melissa. “And it was just that one time, anyway.” It had been right after she’d dropped out of school, when her parents were still calling every day, begging her to change her mind, telling her that everything she was doing was wrong, the way she lived, the way she thought.  She hadn’t even known Jerry that well.  She’d just wanted to prove to herself that she could.  “Give me that,” she said to Dee, reaching for the joint.

Dee handed it back. “Don’t feel bad,” she said, quietly. She brushed Melissa’s hair back from her face.  “Don’t feel bad.”

“I don’t,” Melissa said.  She bumped Dee with her hip, bumped Starchild too for good measure.  “Not now.”  She smoked for a few moments in silence.  “Who cares about guys anyway?  Fuck guys.”

“Amen to that,” Starchild said, taking the joint back.  “We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

“Bigger fish,” Dee repeated, snorting.  

“I mean it,” Starchild said.  “Look at us. I was just going to be bookkeeping in Cleveland, or something.  Like my mom. And Melissa, you were going to be a nun or something.”

“I was not,” Melissa said.  “I’d be a real bad nun.”

“And Dee,” Starchild went on, “you were going to wear pearls and ride horses.  And serve those…those petit fours.”

Dee laughed again. “Fuck petit fours.”

“But look at us,” Starchild said.  “Look at what we’re doing.  We’re all here, and we’re doing this.  By ourselves. And we’re part of something bigger. We’re making a difference, we’re really making a difference.  We’re not just…we’re not going to do all those things we’re supposed to be doing, and we’re not going to let them destroy the world, and…and…fuck the war and fuck guys and fuck petit fours!”  

Her eyes looked big and wet, and watching her, Melissa felt herself starting to tear up too. She reached out to them both, one arm wrapped around Starchild’s waist, the other gripping Dee’s hand.  “I love you both,” she said.  “You’re my best friends…I just…I love you both.”

“Me too,” Dee said, squeezing her hand, reaching for Starchild’s.  “Always will.”

“Yeah,” Starchild said.  “Yeah.” Then they were all just a tangle of arms, and then Starchild shouted, “Oh, shit, shit, shit!” and dropped the joint and started slapping at the sleeve of her shirt, which was starting to smoke, and they all laughed hysterically for the rest of the night.

And here they were now, back in those same spots on the living room floor; Starchild had put on A Song Will Rise, laid out her brownies on a plate.  “So,” she said, taking a bite of one, “the guys said they’d come over on Saturday night. We should get some food.” Starchild and Byers’s frequent breakups had little effect on the social life of the group as a whole.  “How about you, Dee?  You in for this?”

“Yeah,” Dee said, taking a brownie too.  “I was telling Melissa.  I’m thinking about coming back.”

“Yeah?” Starchild said.  She took another bite, didn’t say anything more.  

Melissa knew it wasn’t the same.  But she wanted it to be, thought maybe it could be again.  As the night wore on, as they laughed and talked, she felt that possibility coming closer, hovering somewhere in the air in front of her, challenging her to reach out and grab.

“You can stay in my room,” she told Dee, when they were heading to bed at last.  “You won’t fit on the couch.”

Dee had brought pajamas, baby doll things that had a bow and little yellow checks, that showed an almost obscene amount of leg.  “You look like a narc,” Melissa told her.

“Yeah,” Dee said, balancing with one foot on the bed and giggling, “yeah, I want to report a tip. I ate a brownie tonight and I think there was something weird in it.”  She stumbled, sitting down on the bed with a thump.  “Can I turn off the light?”

“Sure,” Melissa said, and Dee turned it off, slipping into the bed beside her.  She was turned toward the wall; she couldn’t see Dee’s face. “I’m glad you’re back,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Dee said, “me too, Melissa.”   Their legs were tangled up.  There wasn’t any space.

.....

Dana was the first person to show up on Saturday night, along with her roommate Monica. Even though they were younger, still living in a dorm, and, especially in Dana’s case, significantly less with it than everyone else (Melissa loved her sister, but it was true), they came around pretty regularly by this point.  Dana was Melissa’s sister and Mulder’s girlfriend, so she was automatically included in a lot of things, and then Monica was her best friend and pretty cool in her own right.  They were usually the first to arrive, whatever the occasion was, because Dana still followed their mother’s two cardinal rules for being a gracious party guest: be on time and bring something sweet.  “We made cookies,” Dana said, showing the platter.  “Well, Monica mostly did.  But I helped out.”

Melissa took one and took a bite.  “They’re good,” she said.  “Thanks. You can put them on the table. How’s everything going?” she asked, as Dana set the cookies down.

“It’s good!” Dana said.  “We just got back.”  Dana had been home for Christmas break until earlier this week; Melissa had come back to the city earlier, only at her parents’ house for a few days.  “And we got our new classes.  I’m in chemistry lab.”

“And our RA left to get married,” said Monica.  “So we’ve got this new RA who’s a total freak.”

“Oh yeah,” Dana said, laughing.  “She was clearly stoned when we met her.  I think it’s going to be really interesting.”  

Melissa laughed too. “And I’m the one Mom and Dad are worried about.”  Dee came into the room, then; she was wearing jeans and a shirt of Melissa’s, a loose one that looked good on her.  “Hey, do you remember Dee?  I think you guys met once.  She used to live with me and Starchild.  Dee, do you remember my sister Dana?”

Dee looked at Dana appraisingly.  “It’s nice to see you again,” she finally said, holding out her hand.

“You too,” Dana said, taking it.  “And this is my roommate, Monica.  Are you still living in the city?”

“Yes,” said Dee. “Yes, I am,” and Dana nodded, and Melissa watched the whole exchange.  She hadn’t heard Dee be that definite about it yet.  She wondered if she should say something to Dana—something about Dee and Mulder.  It seemed weird that Dee knew and Dana didn’t.  But then she might be making too much of a thing out of it.  She doubted Dana thought that Mulder had never been with anyone else.  For all she knew, Dana did know about Dee already.  Starchild and Shannon appeared from the kitchen then, and everyone started talking, and Melissa let it drop.

Langley, Byers, and Frohike were the next to show up.  They must have heard about Dee somehow—presumably through Starchild—because they didn’t look surprised when they saw her standing there, leaning against the table as she chatted with Shannon.  Not that they were exactly warm.  They didn’t include her in their hellos, but when they went to sit down, they kept shooting her looks and muttering among themselves.  Melissa caught snatches: “…back for real?...” and “…sold us out…” and “…not to mention Mulder…”  

Melissa went over to Dee then, squeezed her shoulders, maybe a little pointedly.  “Hey,” she said softly.  “You’re definitely coming back, then?”

“I think so,” Dee said.  “Yeah.” And she smiled at Melissa, bright eyed, and Melissa hugged her again, a full hug this time.  

She heard the door opening and closing, heard Dana’s voice, happy, teasing.  “About time you got here.”  

“We can’t all be as punctual as you are.”  Mulder’s voice was light too, and when Melissa looked over towards the door he was leaning down to kiss Dana, and she was stretching up into it, her arms around his neck.  When they broke apart, he brushed a strand of hair back from her face.  “Missed you,” he said.  “Where do they get off, giving you a whole month of Christmas vacation?”

“Very inconsiderate of them,” Dana said.  She kissed him again, quickly.  Being in a room with the two of them was always a weird experience: it seemed like you weren’t there at all, really, as far as they were concerned.  That had to be a heady thing, Melissa thought.  “Come on and sit down.  Did you get my last letter?”

“Yeah, I just got it yesterday,” Mulder said.  “I think there’s a lot to what you’re saying, about having those face-to-face conversations. I was wondering if you thought about—” And then he broke off, abruptly, his eyes on the spot where Melissa and Dee were standing.

Dee shrugged off Melissa’s arm, straightened her shoulders, smiled.  “Fox,” she said, quietly.  “Hi.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say.  Finally he got something out.  “Diana.” He was still staring.  “What…what are you doing here?”

A self-deprecating look, a shrug.  “Came back, I guess.”  She walked towards him then.  “It’s really, really good to see you.”  

“You’re back?” he said.  “You’re…back back?”

She nodded.  “I think so,” she said.  “I thought I’d be better off back in Boston, but, you know, you guys were right.  I need to be a part of this.”  She smiled at him again, and Melissa caught sight of Dana, watching the two with a confused look.

“Well, it’s…” He broke off then, just looking at her.

“Yeah, I know,” Dee said.  “It’s weird. Do you want to sit down and talk, though?  We could do with some catching up.”

“I…sure,” Mulder said. He looked around then; Dana was still standing next to him, looking at them both.  “Dana, do you know Diana?” he asked.  “We were…”

“Yes, we’ve met,” Dee put in.  “Melissa introduced us, right?”

“That’s right,” Dana said.  The expression on her face didn’t say a lot, but Melissa had known her all her life, and she could read it.  She was trying to form a question, trying to put something into words, trying to figure out what was going on in front of her.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Dee said then, and then she was walking back towards the table, and Mulder was in her wake, and Dana was in his, still looking like she didn’t know quite where the conversation had gone.

Sometimes Dee could tie you in knots like that.  It came out in their discussions, back when she was still here: in the ways that she took things to places you never meant them to go.  It didn’t happen all the time, of course; in most ways, Dee was on the same page as the rest of them, wanting to get away from the old ways of doing things, wanting to make a difference in the world.  But on the last day, especially, things were different. Melissa sat on Dee’s bed, watching her pack, and she’d never felt so confused, mad, helpless.  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she said.  “I can’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” Dee said.  “Because whether you do or not, it’s happening.  I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it.”

“I’m making a big deal out of it?” Melissa said.  “Dee, I—you’re my—”  You’re my best friend, she was going to say, but Dee didn’t deserve to hear it.  “What happened to everything we talked about?” she said instead.  “I thought we were going to change things together.  The three of us.  And now you’re—you’re fucking selling out, Dee, that’s what you’re doing.  You’re tired of living like this and you want to go back to—to—to luncheons and fucking bridge parties and not taking a stand—”

“That is not true,” Dee snapped; she always got mad when anyone mentioned her upbringing, the different world she had to fall back on.  “I’m still taking a stand.  But what am I actually going to accomplish, just standing out in the rain with crappy cardboard signs and lying around getting high and just talking and talking? You all think you’re being so important. But you could get a lot more done if you actually worked within the system.  If you didn’t all act like you were so special…and so much better than everyone…”

“There’s working with people and then there’s what you’re doing,” Melissa said.  “That man is evil, Dee.  You know that.  We’ve all talked about it—”

Dee shook her head. “See, this is what I mean,” she said. “You can’t make things so black and white.”  She took another top out of her dresser, shook it out and looked at it.  “Do you want this?  I don’t think I’ll wear it—”

“No, I do not want your shirt, Dee,” Melissa snapped.  “You betray me and then you try to get me to take your shirts?”

“I’m not betraying you,” Dee said.  “This isn’t about that at all.  I have to do what’s right for me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends.” She sounded so cold.  “It would be nice if you understood that.”

“It would be nice if you understood me, Dee!” Melissa said.  “Can you understand why I’m upset about this?  Why I can’t agree with what you’re doing?”

“I mean, I do understand,” Dee said.  “But I just don’t think you’re right.  I’m not trying to leave on bad terms or anything.  We’ve had a lot of great times, and it would be a shame.”  A lot of great times, Melissa thought.  Dismissing it all, just like that.  Maybe for Dee it had never meant so much, but she couldn’t fully believe that. It had felt too real.  “You’re still one of my best friends, Melissa,” Dee said, and there they were, the words Melissa had thought about saying before. “Even if you’re mad at me.”

She didn’t know how to answer.  She knew she couldn’t, but she almost wanted to take it all back.  “But I am,” she finally said.  There wasn’t more that meant anything, before Dee was in a cab on her way to the airport.  She thought it all over for weeks, for months.  If she should have said more.  If she was in the wrong after all.  How Dee had managed to make her feel so unstable in what she thought.  Even now, with Dee back, she didn’t know what to think. She knew they should really talk, one of these days, figure out where they stood, but she was worried it would mix her all up again.  

She looked over towards the couch, now; Dee was sitting there, leaning in and talking to Mulder, and Dana was on the other side of them, watching, her arms crossed.  Again, Melissa thought she understood the expression on her sister’s face, but she thought she understood the one on Mulder’s too. That confusion, that sense of something being pulled out from under you, so quickly you didn’t know where it had gone.

.....

But she let it slide. She liked it too much, having Dee back there with them.  Things felt the way they had before, in so many ways; Melissa spent more time with Starchild, even, than she had in months, the three of them sitting around talking like they always had.  And then there was Dee herself, of course.  She was still staying with them, there in Melissa’s room, until she figured things out, and they’d talk even more then, late at night, the words soft and blurred.  Sometimes Melissa would just lie there, after Dee had fallen asleep, taking it all in. She wasn’t getting that much sleep herself these days, but it seemed worth it.  She had her best friend.

And Dee was her best friend.  But Dana was her sister.  And the next time they had people over, that fact brought itself up sharp against Melissa’s consciousness.  

There were a lot of people in the apartment; it was Shannon’s birthday, and she’d invited a bunch of friends they didn’t normally see.  Dana was one of the first people there, as usual, and at first things were fine: she and Monica were sitting on the couch, talking with Langley and Frohike. At the table, Melissa felt Dee beside her, her eyes trained on the door.  And when it opened to reveal Mulder, she strode forward, taking his arm almost as soon as he was in the room.  “Hey there, stranger,” she said; her voice was soft, but Melissa picked it up. “It’s been a while.  Why didn’t you call after we had lunch?”

“I didn’t know if you were still here,” Mulder said.

“You could have come by,” Dee said.  “I wouldn’t have minded seeing you in person, you know.”  She laughed.  “Well, you’re here now, anyway.  Come and sit down.  I really want to talk to you.”  And she led him into the living room, taking a seat on the floor and patting the spot next to her.

On the couch, Dana looked up.  “Hi,” she said, scooting herself closer to Monica.  “Come sit with us.”

He walked towards her, kissing her cheek quickly, but then he glanced back towards Dee, sitting on the floor, still looking at him.  “Hey,” he said.  “I’ll come sit in a minute.  Diana just wanted to talk about something.”

“Well,” Dana said, “we can all talk.  I mean we can talk together…”

“Yeah,” Mulder said. “Yeah, that sounds great.  It would be great if we all…”

“Come on, Fox,” Dee called to him, from her spot on the floor, and Melissa walked closer, instinctively.

She saw him smile at Dana, looking almost sheepish.  “Just give me a couple of minutes,” he said, and then he sat down on the floor, next to Dee.  

Melissa watched. Watched their heads close together. Watched Dee laughing.  Watched Dana watching them.  Watched Dee with her hand on Mulder’s arm.  Watched Dana looking at her wristwatch.  Watched the way Mulder leaned in as he said something. Watched Dana stand up, say, “I’m going to get some water,” and walk out of the room, a little too quickly.  

Melissa hesitated for a moment.  She didn’t believe that about the water, not for a single minute, and she thought Dana might need her right now.  On the other hand, she wasn’t sure she should leave the room herself, not when Dee and Mulder were sitting closer and closer together like that and she kept punctuating her words with little touches.  When Dana didn’t come back after a couple of minutes, though, she made her decision. She shot Monica a look, hoping she could convey Throw yourself bodily between them if you have to with only her face, and set off in search of her sister.

She checked the bathroom first—the door was cracked open—only to find Starchild and Byers leaning up against the toilet, doing something she would rather not have seen. “Seriously?” she said.  What a time for them to be on again.

“There are people in my room!” Starchild yelled back, and Melissa slammed the bathroom door and went to look elsewhere.  

There were no people in her own room, at least—no one but Dana, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down at her hands.  Melissa took a seat next to her.  “Hey,” she said.  “Are you okay?”

“I…no,” Dana said quietly.  Melissa put an arm around her, trying to figure out what she should say, but Dana forestalled her, after a few more seconds.  “I thought…I thought he really liked me.”

“Dana, he does,” Melissa said.  “That’s obvious to anyone with half a brain.  Last summer, when he’d only met you like three times?  He wouldn’t shut up about you.”  

She’d thought it might lift her sister’s spirits, but Dana just shook her head.  “Well, that was then, maybe,” she said.  “I guess I was the best option he had, then.  But it’s obvious now that he’d rather be spending time with Diana.”  She looked up at Melissa.  “They used to go out?”

“Yeah,” Melissa said, as gently as she could.  “Before you guys met, though.  She moved away before that.”

“Were they…was it…serious?”

“Pretty serious,” Melissa said.  She remembered Dee, lying on the floor while they all talked.  I think I love him.  She felt like screaming.  “Look, Dana, why do you want to hear all this?”

“I just want to know,” Dana said.  “I want to understand, that’s all…I didn’t think he…I thought he…”  She didn’t seem able to finish a thought, in a way that was very unlike Dana, and Melissa didn’t know what would do any good.  She would have gone out there and yelled at Mulder—what did he think he was doing, how could he treat Dana like this—or even at Dee—what did she think she was doing, if you left someone you had to let them move on—but she didn’t see that helping.  She just kept her arm around her sister, squeezing her shoulders gently. “Missy,” Dana said, after a moment or two.  “Do you think…um…I mean, he said it was okay, but…”  She was biting at her lip.  “I didn’t…don’t…want to have sex.  Not yet. Do you think that’s why?”

“Oh,” Melissa said. “Oh, Dana,” and she hugged her sister full on; she thought she needed it, right then.  “If that is why,” she told her, “then he does not deserve you.”

“Maybe it’s stupid,” Dana said, her voice sounding thick, “to worry about that.  But, I mean, I know it wouldn’t be…for him, I mean…he’s already…”

“But if you don’t want to,” Melissa said, “that’s what matters.”  She thought about her own first time, the way she’d told herself she could, how she’d only thought about proving she wasn’t the daughter her parents had imagined.  “Trust me, Dana,” she said, “it’s not any good if you’re not really into it.”

Dana gave her a shaky smile.  “Thanks.”

“Try not to worry about this too much.  Give it time.”

“You’re the one telling me that?”

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “Not forever, obviously.  But like I said, I know he likes you a lot.  Dee’s just…well, she’s my friend, but she’s…she doesn’t always think about other people.  I can see where…”  She didn’t know quite what she wanted to say.  “Look, let me try to handle this,” was what she finally came out with.  “Like I said, she’s my friend.  I’ll talk to her.  Get her to drop this.”  

“You think that’ll work?” Dana asked.  

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “I do.”

She wasn’t sure, though.  Especially not when they went back into the living room and saw that Mulder and Dee hadn’t moved from where they’d left them.  Monica caught her eye with a worried look, and Dana stiffened next to her. “I’m really tired,” she announced. “Monica, do you want to go?” Monica agreed quickly, and the two of them left.  Melissa was glad when other people began to trickle out, especially when Mulder left too, about half an hour later.  She was tired of all this.  She left the empty plates on the table—they’d clean up in the morning—and went back into her bedroom.

Dee was already there, sitting on the bed; she shot Melissa a smile as she came into the room. She looked—well, radiant, that was the only word for it, and the wrongness of it hit Melissa suddenly. She thought about Dana, how she’d looked earlier tonight sitting in the same place.

“So what was that all about?” Melissa asked.  She was trying to keep her voice down, because she knew that not everyone had gone home yet—she heard Starchild and Byers, laughing in the kitchen—but there was a part of her that just wanted to start yelling.

Dee shrugged.  “What was what all about?”  She was squinting into her compact.

“That,” Melissa said.  “Do not play dumb, Dee.  Not with me.  You were absolutely flirting with him.  More than flirting.  You were—”

“And if I was?” Dee said.  “I’ve never pretended I didn’t like him anymore.  I would have stayed together, but he said we couldn’t—”

“Because you were moving to Boston to work for Senator Scuzzbag,” said Melissa.  “And that’s not the point.  I can’t believe you can’t see that’s not the point.  He is dating my sister—”

“Well, then why are you so worried about me?”  That smirk; she didn’t mean a word of what she was saying, didn’t believe her own words.  

“You know you’re—” Melissa started, and then she stopped, not knowing what she wanted to say.  That Dana was her younger sister and she wouldn’t let anyone mess with her?  That Dee used to be her best friend, uncomplicated, and she just wanted that again?  

“I’m what?” Dee asked, her voice still calm.

“It’s not all about you,” Melissa said.  “They have something good.  And maybe you don’t believe in things like you used to—”

“Oh, don’t act like this is all some big referendum on my beliefs. You just don’t want your sister to be all sad.”  She was turning back to her compact, but Melissa snatched it away, because she wanted Dee to look at her, damnit.  

“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked.  “Forgive me for caring about people.  For not always putting myself first.”  She tried to steady her voice, not wanting Dee to think she was the one in control here. “She’s my little sister, Dee. That matters to me.”

“Well, not that much,” Dee said.  “She didn’t know about us, did she?  Me and Fox. So why didn’t you tell her, if you care so much?”

“What would have been the point of that?  You skipped out on him—on all of us.  You broke his heart.  It wasn’t like he wanted to see you again.”

“Except that he clearly does,” Dee said, and there wasn’t any way Melissa could argue with that, and she could have hated them both in that moment.  “So maybe, if we’re both happy with that, you shouldn’t be worrying so much about your sister.  Things work themselves out, that’s all.”  And while Melissa was scrambling for words, because this wasn’t just one of those things that worked themselves out, Dee could not make it sound like it was that easy, like it was somehow right, she added, “Why don’t you just go with the flow on this?  You were so excited about having me back, and all of a sudden you’re getting on my case again.  Are you going to be like this—giving me moral lectures all the time?  Because I can get those plenty of places.  Or is it going to be like it used to?”

Melissa wanted that—she wanted that so badly—but she knew that she couldn’t just say yes. “That depends,” she said.  “Are you going to drop this, or are you going to keep doing it?  Because it’s not going to end well for anyone if you do, Dee.  Besides, you’re making yourself look really uncool, honestly.” Dee’s eyes narrowed at that.  “I mean, you’re not exactly being subtle about this whole making a move thing.  You were practically on top of him earlier, and if that’s how you want to act—”  

“Why the fuck is that any of your business?”  Dee didn’t sound so calm now, and Melissa felt a flush of satisfaction at that.

“Because you’re coming off like a jerk!” Melissa said.  “Don’t pretend that this is innocent.  The way the two of you were touching…well, you looked a lot more than friendly, that’s for sure.”  She could see it now, just as if it were still happening.

 Dee looked as if she were going to snap back, and then she stopped, almost sneering.  “You’re talking like you’re jealous.”

“Why would I be jealous?” Melissa asked.  She tried to laugh, found it wouldn’t come.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I didn’t say that’s who you were jealous of,” Dee said.  She leaned in then, close, so close.  “Are you jealous that I didn’t come back just for you, Melissa?  That there’s more to my life than you and me and Starchild being friends forever?  That I’m about to get laid again and you’ve never had anyone but me sleep in your bed?”

“That’s not how it is!” Melissa said.  “That’s not how it is!”  But her breath wouldn’t come.  She tried hard, opened her mouth to say something more but somehow it didn’t happen. Dee was smirking at her and her face was just inches away.

Melissa thought about it afterwards (over and over again), but she was still never quite sure who closed the gap first, exactly how it happened that they were kissing, the two of them, fierce and hard.  She had never imagined this, never even come close.  Maybe she had never let herself.  But if she had, maybe she would have thought of it happening…more naturally, somehow.  The two of them lying together on the floor one night, smoking and talking, and looking at each other and knowing what had to happen and leaning in.  Something sweet.

This wasn’t sweet. Dee had her hands tight in Melissa’s hair, almost pulling, and Melissa grabbed back at hers, stiff with spray, not loose like she used to wear it.  “Your stupid hair,” she muttered, in between kisses.  

“You fucking love it,” Dee hissed back, and she was pulling now, but Melissa didn’t have a retort to that, she did love it, it was Dee’s hair.  And when they next surfaced for air Dee glanced over at the door, which was mostly closed, and kicked it so that they heard the latch click, and then she kissed Melissa again.  She started that one, anyway.  That Melissa knew.

But still it was all so hard to grasp.  She didn’t know if she pulled Dee down or if Dee pushed her or if it was a little bit of both, the two of them lying back on the bed, Dee’s legs wrapped around her.  Her shirt off and Dee’s hands on her; she wasn’t wearing a bra, which had never seemed so practical.  Fumbling at Dee’s dress—“Goddamn zippers”—before she had it off all the way, Dee there in just her underwear.  She’d seen that before, when they lived together.  This was so very different.  Her own skirt now, her underwear.  Dee’s underwear.  She was beginning to think she really got what people meant when they talked about transcendence, about higher planes.  “You really want to?” she asked, and Dee kissed her again, somehow harder and softer all at once, and then there they were.  She didn’t have any idea what she was doing and it didn’t seem to matter at all.  Not here, not now.  Not when it was the two of them.  Dee and her. Her and Dee.  Bodies pressed together.  Kisses everywhere.  And she meant everywhere.

So many things she’d never felt.

And then the two of them, afterwards, lying there.  They didn’t have to talk, Melissa thought.  That was the best part about them: that they could talk and talk but that they didn’t have to.  She just kissed Dee again, said “Hey” sleepily.

“Hey,” Dee said back, her fingers tangled in Melissa’s hair.  They were quiet then, lying side by side on Melissa’s bed, Dee’s foot still touching hers as she drifted off.  It would all be different now, she realized dimly.  She didn’t know exactly how, no, and it wouldn’t be easy.  But she felt ready.

Melissa was cold when she woke up, still undressed, only half-covered by the sheet.  She heard voices in the kitchen—Dee and Starchild—and she hurried to get out of bed, wrapping herself in her robe and going to join them.  

“—I think it’ll be for the best, after all,” Dee was saying.  “Not that this hasn’t been great.  But this isn’t my life anymore, you know?”  Melissa took in the sight.  Dee fully dressed.  That blue dress she’d worn on the first day.  Her neat bag on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Yeah,” Starchild said.  “I think you’ve made that pretty clear.”  Her tone was flat.  “Can you just let me drink my tea in peace?”

Dee’s eye fell on Melissa then, and for a moment Melissa could almost hope that she was wrong, that this wasn’t what it very much looked like.  Dee’s smile, when it came, wasn’t the cocksure one she usually had, wasn’t the honest one that Melissa had liked to think she was privileged to see.  It was something else, unstable and brittle, masking something that could be regret and could be fear and could be an empty nothing.  “Morning, Melissa,” she said.  “We’ve just been talking.  I’m taking the bus back to Boston today.  I think that’ll be the right choice for everyone, in the end.”  

She wasn’t usually one to keep how she felt to herself, and yet, in this moment, it seemed like she had nothing to say.  “Oh,” she managed.  “Right now?”

Dee nodded.  “I’m heading out now, anyway,” she said.  “I just wanted to wait for you to wake up. To say goodbye.”  She reached out for a hug.  It all seemed like the cruelest thing she could have done.  Melissa hugged her anyway.  She wondered if she had been the one to make this happen. Dee didn’t tell them to keep in touch, didn’t use any of those platitudes.  She just held on to Melissa for a long minute and then let go.  “Bye,” she said, and she picked up her suitcase and let herself out.  Melissa had seen her go in and out of the apartment door so many times; it was hard to believe it was permanent.  

She sat in the vacated chair and drew her legs up against her body.  She bit hard at her lip.  “I just…” she said.  “She just…” What could she say?  Starchild didn’t know.

Starchild looked up from her mug.  “You guys banged, didn’t you?”

“I…what?” Melissa said.  “I…what…how did you…”

“You weren’t that quiet,” Starchild said.  Great, just when she thought this couldn’t get any worse.  “Besides, I’ve always seen how you were with her.”

“How?” Melissa asked. “I didn’t even think…until last night…” It all felt beyond surreal.  

“I don’t know,” said Starchild.  “I just did. I’m your friend too, you know.” Melissa guessed she was.  A better friend than Dee.  She wished that meant more to her.  Starchild reached out and patted her hand.  “It’s okay.  Nobody else knows, if you’re worried about that.  Everybody else went home.”

“Great,” Melissa said, hollowly.

“And you know, we all bang lousy people,” Starchild said.  

She didn’t know how to talk about this.  “You don’t think I’m sick?” she asked quietly.

“Nah,” Starchild said. “Well, not because of this, anyway.” She grinned at Melissa, and Melissa would probably have grinned back, any other time, but she couldn’t manage it now. Her face turned serious, though, after a moment.  “Hey,” she said.  “I know this must…it must really hurt.  Dee’s always…it’s all about Dee with her, you know?  And that’s shitty.”  Maybe Starchild was right, but she couldn’t say it.  “But you’ve got me, anyway,” Starchild said, and she leaned over and hugged Melissa, not a long hug, but just enough.  “You want some tea or anything?  Or we could smoke?”

“Tea, I guess,” Melissa said.  “I think I’ll just cry if I smoke.”

“Could be good for you,” Starchild said.  “But tea first, anyway.”  She went to get a mug for Melissa, and Melissa sat there at the kitchen table, leaning her head on her arms.

.....

“Chick waiting for you by the back, Melissa,” one of the busboys said on Sunday morning when she went to take her break, and she was almost ashamed of how fast she ran out the door, wanting it to be Dee.

It wasn’t, of course. It was Dana.  “Hi,” she said.  “I just came from church.”

“Oh,” Melissa said. She knew Dana didn’t go all the time now; if she’d been, it probably meant something.  Her downcast face suggested the same.  “Did it help?”

“Not really.”

“You want a cigarette?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah,” Dana said, and they smoked in silence for a few minutes.  “We had a fight.”

“You and Mulder?” Melissa asked, and Dana nodded.  “Because of the thing with Dee?”

Dana nodded again. “He says he wasn’t trying to hurt me. But then he said…well, he said she’s still someone who was important to him, and there’s nothing between them now. And I said that obviously wasn’t how she was looking at it, and he said I was just being jealous, and…I don’t know. I don’t know where we are now.  We didn’t break up.  Nothing like that.  But I don’t know where we are.”

Her heart ached, for her sister, for herself.  “She left,” she said.  “Went back to Boston.  The morning after the party.”  She tried not to sound sad, because for Dana, maybe, this was a good thing, and she didn’t want Dana to guess what it all meant.

“Oh,” Dana said. “I didn’t know.”  Which meant that Mulder didn’t know either, if Melissa had to guess.  She couldn’t feel surprised.

“Does that change things?” Melissa asked.  “For you?”

Dana dragged on her cigarette.  “I don’t know,” she said quietly.  Melissa nodded, and they smoked together, not talking, until her break was over.

.....

Starchild dragged her over to hang out at the guys’ the next week, because she said Melissa should be doing more than sitting around looking sad and burning incense. Maybe she was right.  Melissa wasn’t sure that the outing achieved whatever Starchild had in mind, though, because she couldn’t really manage the energy to talk to anyone.  She was sitting by the window, pretending to be enjoying the amazing view of a brick wall, when she heard someone walking up beside her.  She turned.  Mulder.

She knew she should be mad at him, for Dana’s sake if nothing else.  A part of her was.  A part of her couldn’t be.  She nodded at him, made space where she was perched on the radiator.  He took a seat.  “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

More silence.  “She just…went back?” he finally asked.

She couldn’t explain what had happened, not to him.  Maybe it didn’t matter.  “She just went back,” she said.  Another pause.  “She didn’t tell you herself?”

“No.”  Melissa nodded.  “I know I was an idiot,” he said.  “Thinking anything would be different.  And look, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to.  I fucked up with Dana, and you don’t have to be cool with that.”

She shrugged.  “Maybe tell Dana that.”

“I did,” he said. “We talked.  It’s not…well, I fucked up.  But we talked.”

“That’s something,” Melissa said.  She looked down at her feet.  “I thought it would be different too,” she said.  “I can see why you would.”

Mulder nodded.  “She’s always been…”  He trailed off.

“Yeah,” Melissa said. Because Dee had always been something, something that pulled you in, something you couldn’t put into words.  She could tell, looking at Mulder, that he was remembering something, but she didn’t ask him what.  She was remembering something herself.

A night last year, just after she’d moved in with Starchild and Dee.  She and Dee had been sitting in the kitchen, just finishing dinner, when Starchild whirled into the living room and put on a record.  Peter, Paul, and Mary, Melissa remembered.  See What Tomorrow Brings.  “Come on!” she shouted into the kitchen.  “Let’s dance!”

“Okay!”  Melissa jumped up from her chair and went to join her. Dee followed more slowly, watching Melissa and Starchild as they moved.  “Come on, Dee,” Melissa said.  “Dance with us!”

“Don’t you know how to dance?” Starchild asked.

Dee had her haughty look.  “I know how to waltz.”

Starchild started laughing.  “Well, waltz, then!” she said.

“I can’t waltz by myself—” Dee began, and then she shrugged and said, “What the hell?”  She sauntered up to Melissa, put an arm around her waist.  “Waltz with me?”

It was all just silly, all just fun, dancing around the living room while Peter, Paul, and Mary sang about love and tragedy.  “Sure,” Melissa said.  “But I don’t know how.”

“I’ll lead,” Dee said. “I always had to be the boy.”

“Gee, I wonder why that was,” Melissa said, looking up at her, and Dee made a face and pulled her in and they were dancing, clumsily but happily, and Melissa was laughing through the whole thing.  Suddenly, Dee dipped her, and she almost gasped, but then she went with it.  That heady feeling.  Suspended upside down.  

[sunlitroom]

Gotham – s4e18 – That’s Entertainment!

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham:

Jerome invaded a beautiful 1960s office building to find his estranged brother, Xander Wilde.   Then he did find him, and told him he was going to drive him mad.  In an outrageously dull and dumb storyline, Barbara is apparently the demon’s head. Bruce didn’t kill Jerome, and now he feels bad about it.  Jerome has a plan to turn the city into a madhouse.

As always, long post will be long.  There are likely to be rambling digressions. Gobblepot might appear (although I welcome all shippers and non-shippers alike :)).  There will be naked favouritism and naked not-favouritism.  Broader comments at the end on plotlines and parallels and general direction.

The interim mayor is holding a meeting in front of a large painting (did anyone catch what it was?).  A representative is there from the Moral Authority Society, as well as Gotham’s ‘Mother of the Year’, and the Police Commissioner.

The Moral Authority woman is making outraged noises about criminals taking office and gunfights in the streets.  Those are both definitely Bad Things, but anyone from anything called the Moral Authority Society is so instantly intolerable that criminals in office and gunfights look just fine and dandy in comparison.

The interim mayor tells Moral Authority woman, Mrs Haverstock, that they have been working to improve the way the city conducts itself.  

The lights go out. The mayor sends a bodyguard to see what’s going on.  The people round the table shiver suddenly, and wonder if a window has blown open.  

They all stand about anxiously – and then stare as Victor strides in, giving them a dry good evening.

They ask what’s going on, but Jervis now appears and tells them there’s no time for questions – they’re needed elsewhere.

Outside, Jervis and Victor usher into the mayor into a van containing a smirking Jerome, Firefly, and a very pretty-looking Oswald.  This is the problem with Gotham - the villains are all absurdly hot.  Law and order just isn’t as enticing.

The mayor instantly demonstrates how completely full of bullshit he was earlier by blurting out that he has access to the police pension fund.  Jerome shrugs at this, unimpressed.  The mayor turns to Bridget – saying her knows her.  He can offer her money and a new home.  

Bridget smiles at him, and says that it was people like him who got her locked up in Strange's lab – the result of which being there is no Bridget anymore.

Getting desperate, he turns to Jervis and offers him a pardon.  Even Jervis looks baffled by that one.  I don’t like Jervis’ new coat.  It’s not half as nice as his old overcoat.  The collar sits all funny, and I don’t like the cape.

Jervis makes some noise about how they’re visionaries.

Finally, he looks to Oswald

Oswald - can't you do something?

Oswald looks back at him. He plainly wants to do something, but can't be seen to be a dissenting voice.

Absolutely not.  I am with Mr Valeska 100 percent of the way.

The mayor says cops looking are looking for him and there’ll be no mercy, just bullets.

Jerome tells him he’s so serious – and that’s why his approval ratings are so low. He needs to smile more.  He puts an arm round Oswald’s shoulders, and Oswald offers a fake smile in agreement.  

Jerome goes on to comment that it’s time to give the city the boost it needs. Jonathan sprays the mother of the year with some of the purple gas. As her vision blurs, and she starts to convulse, we hear Jerome say

Come on, Gotham what do you have to lose?  Except your sanity.

From the back of the van, Oswald watches – wide-eyed and pale.  He’s terrified.

 Bruce and Alfred in the garage at Wayne Manor.  Bruce asks why they’re there – and Alfred drops a small box into his hands, and wishes him happy birthday.  Bruce smiles

You remembered

You think, Bruce?

Alfred says of course did. He bloody loves Bruce’s birthdays. His seventh was a blinder.  Bruce got a little red truck which he took outside and played with alone.  When Alfred found him, he was gathering stones in order to build a secret place for it.

Bruce smiles – touched that he remembers - and opens the box.  It's a car key. He presses the button, and a very fancy car starts up.  Even Bruce, who must be used to fancy cars, is impressed.

Alfred – I don't know what to say

Alfred tells him all the fancy specs.   5 litre, 460 horsepower.  Matte black. Bulletproof. Ye gods -  the insurance will be astronomical.

Bruce hugs him. Alfred is also moved.

Aw, mate

GCPD- where Jim is telling Harvey about the kidnap - everyone is out searching. Harvey says he was going to say that he had won 100 bucks from a scratch-off lotto ticket and was going to suggest they go blow it at the track and the pub. I’m not sure whether Harvey’s just being flippant here but – if not – some of this might help explain why he was having money problems earlier in the season.

Jim’s phone rings.

We need to talk

Oswald

I’ll be out back - come alone

Jim hurries downstairs to the evidence room, where there is a persistent knocking at the door.

This is a first

Apparently, Jim and Oswald haven’t yet used the evidence room for one of their exciting clandestine meetings.  That’s the only part of this that I’m buying as ‘a first’, Jim.

Oswald is agitated, and asks Jim if he’s doing anything about Jerome.  Jim asks if he knows where he is.  Oswald tells him that going in all guns blazing would not help.  He also tells him that everyone is under his thumb – they’re all part of his dark, terrible plan.

Jim asks what the plan is. Oswald tells him about the gas Jonathan’s made.  Jim asks if it’s like the fear toxin.  Oswald says this is much worse.  It’s not neutralised by water or concentrating really hard, for a start. He saw it turn someone into a maniacal cackling violent animal.

Jim demands more information.  Really, Jim – I think this is more than you had before, so let’s be grateful.  

Oswald protests.  He says Jerome doesn't share his full plans- he’s not stupid. They’re all assigned separate tasks.  Jim snarls – asking why he’s come if he won’t help him.  Jim, he is.  You know now that all the villains are likely to carrying out individual missions at different parts of the city; that – if caught – it’s a waste of time to interrogate them about Jerome’s master plan; that a poison gas is involved, so there’s likely to be a need for Jerome to find a way to circulate it widely; and that this gas is essentially a way of weaponizing the public – so you need huge containment measures in place.  C’mon now.  Lazy writing. You can have him desperately ask Oswald for more information– but not act like he’s not given him anything, because you just make him look either stupid, assy, or like he’s not been listening.

Anyway – before I ranted, Jim had asked Oswald why’d he’d come at all. Oswald is exasperated, and tells Jim that Jerome scares the living hell out of him.  Oh, Oswald. That response to the fear serum wasn’t a one-off, apparently.

Jim gives him a considering look.  Oswald says he thought Jerome might get them power and money – a return to the good old days.

I really love the notion that Oswald is nostalgic and longs for tradition - because it’s so tricksy, and not quite how things were.  I can see it on one hand – because he’s not really like the rest of the villains.  His MO and needs are much more standard, and less obviously outre.  On the other hand, Oswald is the upstart outsider who completely subverted the old order and caused chaos so he could take the crown.  The likes of Sofia and Carmine just curled their lip at him, and saw him as a freak.  So he’s in this odd situation of not wanting to be part of the new wave, but being rejected by the old order.

Jim, already turned on by this illicit meeting at work, decides that he wants to provoke Oswald, gives him one of his looks that wander well below the neck, and suggests that maybe he just doesn’t want the competition

Oswald scoffs at this. He says Jerome is simply chaos – an anarchist, whereas he is an honest criminal.

OK – at this point Jim makes a series of weird faces which, frankly, baffled me. Mouth ulcer?  Popcorn stuck in teeth?  I have no idea what these were.  

Jim asks where the gas could be.  Exasperated, Oswald reiterates that Jerome only tells what he has to – and that all Oswald knows is he has to be stopped.

Jim and Oswald being Jim and Oswald, they’re standing very close.  Jim raises his eyebrows at Oswald’s comment and looks down at him.  

Harvey yells downstairs for Jim, at which interruption Jim’s lips thin in a momentary expression of annoyance (it’s in the gifs, I promise it’s not shipper glasses), and he and Oswald slide into a hilariously smooth and practised quick escape.  Once Oswald is safely out the door, Jim walks back towards the stairs to meet Harvey – who tells him that Jerome has been spotted at Paisley Square.

 At Paisley Square, we see a very small music festival in progress.  The main act is being interrupted by Jerome, who has invaded the stage and his shaking his ass at the crowd.  The singer tells him to get lost, and is bludgeoned with the mic stand for his troubles.  We also see that Firefly is on stage.

Ladies and gentlemen.  We are the Arkham Asylum lunatics – and we are here to blow some minds.

He tells them they’ll love this next one, and brings his hostages onto the stage: the mayor, commissioner, bishop and…. this lady, whoever she is.

He’s waiting for two more guests, though, so – in the meantime, he’ll explain the rules. Basically, they have dynamite strapped to their necks, and he has the trigger – so if he doesn’t get what he wants, headless people.  Only one man get him what he wants

Gordon!  Calling Captain James Gordon!

Oh tremendous – it’s the League of Shadows, which saves me a lot of typing. Some guys is mad at Tabitha’s arrogance and disrespect for throwing his brother out of the club.  Tabitha says he a rude ass who won’t pay his tab.  The faux girl-power stuff with the Sirens storyline is annoying, because Tabitha is arrogant, and disrespectful, and downright rude – we saw that when she threw Ivy out for no good reason.  But because this story is mired in its own weird powerful women rhetoric, she can’t just be called out on it.  Her behaviour has to be seen to be justified.

Barbara struts in and wants an apology.  The man demands blood.  Barbara summons her army, and the men are all taken out.  They turn to Barbara afterwards and ask her about continuing Ra’s’ legacy, as opposed to petty shit like this.   She apparently has more to learn.  Barbara makes a destiny face. Tabitha channels the audience, for once, and rolls her eyes.

My wrists are really suffering today – so this is summarised.  Jonathan and Victor invade Wayne Enterprises and demand that they make a huge amount of poison madness gas.

Back to the music festival. Jerome is dancing to the Batman theme. My love for 60s Batman knows no bounds, so this makes me happy

As I live and breathe, Jim Gordon is in the house.

Jim doesn’t want to talk until he knows the hostages are OK – but Jerome says he is the one making demands. Jim says this is an act of terror, which seems to offend Jerome.  Jim moves a little closer, but Bridget sprays flames into the crowd.

(An aside.  So – are the people in the crowd also the kind of people that allowed Bridget to be experimented on by Hugo?  Ivy’s resentment towards the entire city is more understandable.  She was repeatedly let down on a personal and impersonal level.  She wants revenge on everybody – which is exacerbated by her immaturity.  Even so, there’s a transformative element to what she wants to do – making them something better, in her eyes.

Bridget, on the other hand, is seemingly just happy to roast civilians alive if needs be.  So – what’s stopped her just going on a killing spree before now? Does she need direction?)

Jerome lets Jim know that this is a dead man's trigger – if it falls out of his hand, then the collars still detonate.  He comments again on the two empty chairs.  Jim asks who they’re for.

You’re a detective.  Do some detecting

Jim guesses Jeremiah – but can’t think of the second.  Jerome asks about the other irksome do-gooder who's spoiled his fun – and answers for Jim: Bruce Wayne.

Jim says to take him instead, but Jerome doesn't want Jim.  He wants his brother and the version of his brother he’d liked to have had, who – when he had the chance -  didn’t abandon him to his violent uncle.

Jim tries to clear the crowd – but Jerome gets angry.  Anger manifests, in this case, as making the commissioner’s head explode.  He demands Jeremiah and Bruce again.

 At Wayne Manor, Alfred sings happy birthday to Bruce as he presents him with a cake.  Selina appears behind Bruce’s shoulder and blows out the candles – telling him his security sucks.  A slightly put-out Alfred greets her with Miss Kyle, before putting out plates and leaving.

(An aside – Selina is virtually Bruce’s only friend – of his own age, anyway.  She got shoved out a window on her way to let Alfred know he had been kidnapped.  She nearly died.  He… didn’t think to invite her?  Stay classy, Alfred.)

Bruce thanks her for visiting on his birthday – But Selina denies knowing that’s what today is.  He says it’s good to see her.  She says that she knew his bratty stage was just an act, but Bruce says she’s more sure than he is.

Alfred announces visitors – Jim and Lucius letting them know about the Jerome situation.  Lucius says he’s designed some radio wave jamming technology that would keep Bruce safe long enough for GCPD to ambush, but Alfred still isn’t happy, and nor is Selina, who is now perched on the table and still picking at the cake.

In the meantime, Jerome makes the bishop’s head explode.

Jim appeals to Bruce’s good nature by saying they can prevent deaths

Bruce agrees and asks what they’re waiting for – people need their help.

Ra’s house.  There’s a secret door with no key – but, luckily, Barbara can open it with her magic hand.  Just take a moment to ponder exactly how stupid the thing I just typed sounds.

She enters a room full of random pieces of art and culture.  Walking reverently through, she catches sight of a very bad painting, and stops short.

Good lord – wtf is that? From what one of the assassin sisters said, it should be– what, 17th century?  It doesn’t look it, though.

Barbara is all awe-struck – saying that she’s always knows she was meant for more.  Sure, Barbara.  Whatever.

I’m home

Back with Jerome and co, we see snipers on the roof – who are being coordinated by Harvey.  

Back to Jim – he’s trying to convince Jeremiah, who is pouring himself a stiff drink, and telling Jim he’s mad to consider this plan at all.  Jim gets nowhere trying to persuade him.

Bruce introduces himself with a handshake.  Jim and Lucius watch him – guessing he might have better luck than them.

Bruce says he wishes the circumstances were better, and asks what Jeremiah is working on – listening with genuine interest.  He says that Jeremiah has a brilliant mind, and hopes that he can carry on after his brother is gone free from fear.

Jeremiah watches him as he speaks.  He doesn’t seems suspicious, or dismissive – just intent.

Bruce says he trusts Jim and Lucius. And even if things don’t go to plan – they will show the city that standing up to terror is the only way to take its power away.

Jeremiah considers this

Well said

Jim’s phone rings. It’s Harvey – letting him know about the lab break-in.  Jim tells him what ‘Penguin’ said about the gas.  Yeah yeah, Jim.  We all know you use that name for show.

They all leave to head to Paisley Square

There’s a very unnecessary scene where Harvey gets to the lab and learns that they made loads of gas which was then taken away again.

 Jerome is singing on the stage when Jim and co. arrive.  Jerome invites them to take their seats.  Bruce strides up to the stage, face defiant.  A nervous Jeremiah follows.  Lucius says the device has been activated.  Lucius is wearing a purple shirt and paisley tie, which is a fairly consistent style choice for him.

When they get to the stage, Harvey tells the snipers to fire – but the snipers are shot by Arkham patients. Jerome guessed they’d do this – and set his own men up in position last night.  They’ve been watching the police all day.  In short, they’re fucked.

 A genuinely beautiful shot of a glass aircraft hangar – with clear blue skies outside – with the remainder of the villains walking through it.

Jonathan gasses one of the pilots there.  Oswald looks nervy.  Jervis asks the remaining pilot if it can be piloted alone and hypnotises him.

Oswald’s brain is whirring, and he exclaims aloud when he realises the plan – draw a crowd to the square to drop the gas and infect as many as possible.  He can’t contain his genuine feelings about it anymore, and says it’s madness.

Jonathan said he thought he'd appreciate the beauty of it – but that Jerome had already anticipated his betrayal.

You went to Gordon

Ooops.  They all ship it.

He adds that Oswald is a Judas – before hitting him on the head.  Jervis tells two random goons to tie him up and put him on the blimp - Jerome wants him to have a bird’s eye view

God – this storyline again.  Ra’s cellar of random objet d’art.  Tabitha says he was a cult leader with brainwashed assassins.  Barbara’s gone all conspiracy theorist – poring over one text which outlines how Ra’s has influenced all world history.  That’s one document, Barbara.  This is not how we do historical analysis.  

Now she’s going on about spells.  Tabitha says that Barbara would have sold all this once upon a time, and asks her what about how she begged to be part of her and Selina’s team.

Barbara points to the portrait and says that portrait shows her and Ra’s 400 years ago, and that this is her.  She’s found her true purpose.

Barbara tells her minions to escort Miss Galavan to the street – and, plumbing hitherto unknown depths of unlikeableness, tell her that she’ll have her loyal servants teach her manners – she wouldn’t dirty her fingers with the task now.

Back to the festival. Jerome is monologuing.  

Everyone's got their favourites – the one who cleans their room and does their homework.  Mr Perfect – this guy

Jeremiah was adopted by rich folks, while Jerome was dragged up by a depressed alcoholic mother and had to clean up elephant dung.

He faces Jeremiah

But I know something mommy and daddy never knew.  You're as crazy as I am

Jeremiah grimaces and struggles.

It’s in the DNA.  You see, we’ve got the same blood - we are practically identical.  You are a killer.  It's your nature.  Don't try and fight it.

He gives him the knife.

Take your best shot

Jerome stands back. Jeremiah roars and launches at him. Jerome easily disarms him, laughs, and punches him.

Jim and Harvey have a quick phone conversation about the chemicals headed their way.  Jim tells him to evacuate the site, and says he’s going to kill that maniac once and for all.

Back on stage, Jerome is still beating Jeremiah, while telling him he loves him. Suddenly, the tables turn – and GCPD cops are shooting the Arkham patients stationed on the roofs.  Jim, meantime, shoots Jerome.  Bridget aims her flamethrower at him, but Jim manages to get away.  Jerome – on his back on the stage – shuffles away.

As he does, Bruce and Bridget brawl.  Jerome tries to hit the switch – only to realise that it’s not working.  

From the crowd, we hear a voice

Hey – look up at the sky!

The blimp is now overhead.

Oswald wakes up, tied to something on the blimp, and is instantly wide-eyed with terror

Holy crap!

He frees himself and tries to get the pilot’s attention politely – but realises he’s been hypnotised.  The captain goes on to say he’s going to dump the chemicals.  

Oswald, bless him, decides that the way to go is to yell bossily, because that’s what he does

You turn this thing around right now!

The captain turns and aims a gun at him.  Oswald raises his hands and backs off.

Chaos below.  Jerome runs up an alley, and Jim follows.  On a rooftop, Harvey looks up and sees the blimp. He calls Jim and suggests shooting it down – but, as Jim points out, that’s incredibly dumb, because it’s carrying all the chemicals.

 As Jim chases Jerome upstairs, he gets a call from Oswald.  He tells him he was knocked out, and then panics down the phone – telling Jim that he has to help him, the blimp has that horrible poison gas on board, and the pilot has been hypnotised.

Jim says that Oswald is going to help him – and tells him to steer the blimp away.   Oswald splutters.  He can’t steer a blimp – he doesn't even drive his own car.  Thousands could die.  Jim tells him there’s something worse.  Oswald asks what’s worse than that.  Jim tells him he can't run an empire in city full of lunatics.  Again – that writing is weird, because it makes Jim come off as more morally bankrupt than Oswald.  Or maybe it isn’t weird.

(An aside.  Ahhh.  In times of true need – as with the fear serum – Jim is Oswald’s first port of call)

On the rooftop, Jerome on the ledge.  The pilot calls to say he’s in position, but before Jerome can reply, Jim shoots the phone from his hand.  

Jerome says it’s too late anyway – and laughs, calling out bombs away!

Jim shoots him in the gut.   Jerome is momentarily shocked, then laughs, falling backwards.

Meanwhile, on the blimp, the pilot starts to pull the lever.  Oswald lurches forward, yelling no, and struggles.   He overcomes him by smacking him in the face, and takes the wheel, chanting up up up.  As he manages to get it to do what he wants, he laughs nervously

Ok ok ok…river, river – where is the river?

Oh, Oswald.  I do actually properly love you.

Jim looks over ledge at Jerome dangling from a pole.  Jerome comments that it’s quite the dilemma.  Let him die – or pull him up and arrest him.  What’ll it be? He extends a hand and asks Jim if he’s a lawman or a murderer.

Jim thinks for a moment before reaching down towards him – but Jerome withdraws his hand.

Good old Gordon, always playing by the rules - that's why I’ll outlive you and always be loved.  I don’t play by rules.

Jim comments that it’s a long way down.  Jerome responds that he’ll live on because he’s an idea.  A philosophy.  He’ll live on in the shadows of Gotham’s discontent.  

He tells Jim he’ll be seeing him soon and, with an au revoir, lets go of the pole, laughing hysterically as he drops towards the ground.

Jim watches, wide-eyed, genuinely shocked.

On the street below, Jerome’s body – looking oddly unharmed – lies on a crumpled car roof, eyes open – still smiling.  The crowd surge round him, before the police usher them back.

Jim stares.  A tearful Jeremiah hovers close for a moment, and then makes to walk past.  Bruce stops him, and says he meant what he said about work – he wants to fund him with a grant.  Bruce also looks tearful.  Jeremiah walks away, still limping as a result of the beating he took on stage.  Bruce acknowledges Jim before walking away.

Jim's phone rings. It’s Oswald

Um – hello.  I’m still here.  Will someone get me the hell off this thing?

Jim says they’re on it, and asks Harvey how they get a blimp down safely.

Harvey says let him stew. You know, Harvey, any residual shame you feel about being on Oswald’s payroll during the Pax is all on you – so anytime you want to stop being a prick where Oswald is concerned is good.

Jim says they’ll get the standby pilot and he will advise him, adding that he should sit tight.  He takes a moment and adds a well-deserved and just ever-so-slightly fond, with the use of his full name.

And Oswald Cobblepot?   Gotham thanks you.

Oswald stares incredulously at the phone and yells Jim’s name as the blimp drifts off.  Someone is getting a spanking when Oswald lands.  I suspect he’s into it.

Tabitha is thrown out. Barbara’s plan doesn't involve her. Honestly, Tabitha, I don’t like you – but I would leave the vortex of dumb that is that storyline while you have the chance.

One of the sisters tells her to leave the city and never come back.  Tabitha tells her to kiss her ass

Which one of you bitches wants to go first?

Tabitha starts well, but is quickly overpowered and beaten.  From a car a little way down the street, someone watches all this.  It’s a pretty ugly scene, with four or five of them kicking Tabitha’s ribs as she lies on the ground.

The sisters walk away.

Next time, we kill you

They close the gates behind them.

Tabitha is lying in the street.  The man from the car walks towards her and extends his hand

Let me help you

Tabitha takes it.

Who the hell are you guys?

They’ve apparently been watching her and Barbara Kean ‘the imposter’.  Poor sods.  They must be both bored and irritated.

They say that Ra’s is the true master.  Tabitha points out his deadness, but they tell her death is an illusion, and inject her with some very green stuff that looks like Herbert West’s reagent.  She’s dragged away, unconscious.  The street is really pretty.

Back in Jeremiah’s drab home, where he pours himself a large whiskey. Jeremiah fairly knocks it back, doesn’t he?  We saw him drinking the same way earlier, without a wince or a cough. It suggests that he’s maybe used to it.

Looking over at the table, he sees a present.  He walks over and looks.  It looks creepy, even with its little tag claiming it’s from Wayne Enterprises.

Now.  Would you open that?  I wouldn’t.

He opens it.  It’s a toy – a jack-in-the-box that can only be described as ‘menacing’.  And if opening the original parcel wasn’t dumb enough, he actually turns the handle.

Predictably – an evil looking clown springs out and sprays him with gas. Jerome’s voice plays from some recording.  Jeremiah staggers round the room, his face twisting.

Hello brother.  You didn't think get you’d get rid of me so easily.  My days were always numbered – but you can continue on for me.  Be my revenge.  Don't fight it – it’s a special mixture I had Scarecrow mix especially for you, to finally set you free.  It’s time to have some fun.  Burn it down. Burn it all down.

General Observations

A strong episode - excepting the League of Shadows stuff, which I find ludicrous and dull.

A couple of interesting nods to the past in this episode.  

There’s Jim and Oswald, of course.  They never really stray too far away from each other – but the secretive meetings, and Oswald as informant hark back to the good old days of season one, as does them working together.  When push comes to shove, they seek out that dynamic which must - by this point - be almost comforting.

There’s also the moment with Jim and Jerome on the roof – which calls back to the moment at the church, when Barbara attempted suicide by letting go of his hand. There’s a similar rhetoric, too, about being set free through insanity.

Fate or Choice?

There’s quite a lot here to do with free will and determinism, and fatalism.   Was Barbara really fated to always end up here?  Is Jeremiah bound to end up as murderous and insane as Jerome?    

Gotham has played with the idea before.  I’m not really fond of it, to be honest – and found it particularly annoying when creepy Elijah revealed the dark past of Oswald’s relatives.  Of course background is important, but to reduce Oswald’s life to ‘well – of course, he wound up heading that way, because his grandfather was crazy’ completely cheapens his story.  

It also raises the queasy notions like, well, do you even bother trying to rehabilitate those people? Maybe some people are just born bad, and can be written off?  

Jeremiah was an example of that, to an extent.  Even if you go with the idea that he maybe suspected something wasn’t quite right somewhere, in terms of his mental health, it doesn’t seem as though he had acted on it.  He was controlled and secluded, and had found an outlet for his energies in his work.  If he was aware of certain impulses and compulsion, then he apparently hadn’t acted on them.  He made a choice, in so far as he was able (which is, of course, not to say that this is feasible/realistic/appropriate in a wider and more serious discussion of mental illness – I’m talking about it purely as it’s presented within this narrative).

But Jerome’s final actions removed that choice from him, and framed it as ‘setting him free’.  So freedom is giving in?  Jeremiah to his (apparently) familial madness?  Barbara to following a path set out for her? Bridget can remember being Bridget, but she’s given up on her in favour of living out Strange’s vision of her?

Jim

Jim more or less continues on the path set out last episode, of trying to more solidly be a ‘good guy’. He offers himself up in Bruce’s place, and tries to rescue and arrest Jerome.  His interactions with Oswald are occasionally assy (if you watch it with shipper glasses on, Jim seems to enjoy riling Oswald up into a hissy fit) – but his thanks at the end are sincere, I think.  He could have said something mean-spirited – but acknowledges instead that Oswald saved the city, and ‘Oswald Cobblepots’ him in the same way that Oswald likes to ‘Jim Gordon’ him.

His interactions with Harvey seemed to be business as normal – Harvey’s slid back to his comedic, mostly ineffectual, ways.  This return to old days makes me wonder if the ‘betrayal’ we read about elsewhere might come from this quarter, after we’ve been lulled into a false sense of security.

His bond with Bruce in terms of ‘helping people’ was reaffirmed here, and deliberately made distinct from Bruce’s ties with Alfred.

Oswald

I wrote earlier that Oswald occupies an odd bridge between the old and the new.  The old order didn’t want him, but he can’t find a common ground with the new order: their motivations baffle him.  When pushed, he prefers order – and if that order happens to be lawful, he’ll take it, temporarily, anyway.

Here – Oswald falls back on what’s instinctive to him which, despite everything, is to seek out Jim. There’s a double aspect to how he goes to Jim here.  It makes logical sense, because Jim wants to stop Jerome too, but there’s also an emotional element to it: he’s scared, and he trusts Jim to help him.  

Bruce and Jeremiah

I think Bruce and Jeremiah’s relationship - which we know will become hugely important - was really well set up.  Although Jerome would frequently puncture the moment with humour, he had poignant moments throughout.  Part of him did love his brother.  In many ways, they are alike.  His brother did abandon him.  His childhood was terrible.  He willingly lets himself fall at the end.

By the end of this episode – before the gas – we see Jeremiah also deeply unhappy.  His home looks dark and enclosed.  He’s drinking heavily.  He’s traumatised by encountering his brother again.  He’s tearful when he sees his body.  The one glimmer of light in his life was Bruce’s offer of work, in much the same way that Bruce’s refusal to leave Jerome to be beaten was the lone example of decent behaviour he’d seen in a long time.  And now that’s all ruined, and the relationship - which could have been good for them both - poisoned from the outset.

I’m not commenting on Barbara’s storyline.  It’s silly.

Things that remain open. Sofia is still in a coma – what happens when she comes round?  Does Victor know yet that Oswald didn’t kill Carmine?  Will Martin put his stabbing skills to use?

Thoughts?

[littleplebe]

Heyyyyy. I wish you would write a Wintershock with this: “Dude why did that siren take on my image to try and seduce you, is there something you wanna tell me?”

“Dr. Foster, the Avengers havereturned. Prince Thor requests your presence in the med bay.”

Darcy’s ears pricked up at theannouncement and she glanced at Jane to find her wide-eyed with worry.

“Is he hurt? Is anyone hurt?”Jane asked, already closing her laptop and swiping her phone off the desk.

“Only Sergeant Barnes and AgentBarton.”

“Shit,” Darcy whispered indismay.

She watched Jane from the cornerof her eye as the scientist hurried to the door but Darcy, herself, made nomove to leave. She desperately wanted to go, but decided she would simplyclutter up the area. Post-mission reunions were exclusive to the Avengers andtheir beloved/close friends only.

“You, too, Ms. Lewis,” JARVISsaid.

Darcy looked up, bewildered.“What now?”

“Your presence is required in themed bay as well.”

Jane stopped at the door andturned to her stumped assistant. “Well, don’t just sit there!”

Darcy jumped up and sped afterJane, her mind spinning with concern for Clint and Bucky, interspersed with herbafflement over JARVIS’ message. Sure, she was acquainted with the Avengers,some more than others, but she wasn’t that close to any of them, atleast not enough to warrant an invitation to post-mission group hugs.

Jane took the private elevatordown to the medical floor, Darcy fidgeting nervously beside her.

“How hurt do you think they are?”she asked, looking around at the slick metal lining of the elevator. It wasbigger than the employee elevator and housed a freaking couch in case one got tired of standing.

Darcy didn’t have clearance touse the private elevator.

“I don’t know.” Jane shrugged.“Hope they’re not too serious. Bucky can heal, but Clint…”

“Yeah.” Darcy coughed guiltily.She was more worried about Bucky. Clint was a great guy, no doubt, but Bucky?Bucky was special. He was strong, funny, criminally handsome, and heappreciated Darcy’s choice in movies.

She maybe nursed a small crush onhim. Maybe.

Small.

One-sided.

Jane poked her when they reachedthe med bay and Darcy looked up to find the Avengers, Nick Fury and Maria Hillstanding there in a circle. Thor broke off to envelope Jane in his arms, pressinga brief, relieved kiss to her lips.

“Darcy,” he said with a smile,turning to give her a hug as well.

Darcy happily hugged him back,squeezing his biceps and lingering deliberately until he barked out a laugh andpushed her away.

“Lewis,” Tony Stark greeted, beckoningher into the circle. “How many times have I told you, no inappropriate behaviorin my tower?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Likeyou’re one to talk. How’s Bucky?” she asked, adding belatedly, “And Clint?”

“They’ll be fine.”

“Cool.” She stifled a sigh ofrelief. “So why am I here?”

Tony eyed the people around them.“Anyone want to fill her in on what happened?”

The first person to catch Darcy’seye was Steve. He looked drained but offered her a polite smile. Beside him,Natasha Romanoff smirked, looking no less scary than she usually looked. Furyand Agent Hill were as impassive as ever. Dr. Banner sported tattered clothesand looked about ready to collapse.

No one stepped up to answerTony’s question.

“What is it?” Darcy finallyblurted, unable to take the suspense. “Is it my parents? Are they supervillainsnow? ‘Cause last I checked, my dad was working with unstable chemicals at KripkoChem.”

Darcy had warned him to becareful. Playing with science was what had caused Johann Schmidt to become theRed Skull in the first place. It wasn’t safe, dammit! Why did no one everlisten to her?

“This is all your fault,” shethrew carelessly at Jane, who gave her a flat look, totally unaffected by thebaseless accusation. She was used to Darcy blaming her for every wrong thing inher life. More often than not, it was funny.

“Your dad’s fine, Darcy,” Steve assuredher. He sighed and looked at Fury, who grimaced.

“I’m outta here. Debrief in anhour.”

“I dislike him a lot,” Darcywhispered to Tony as the former director of SHIELD stalked off, his leathercoat billowing impressively behind him.

“Everyone does,” Tony whisperedback. “He’s very unlikable.”

Once Fury had disappeared, Stevestepped forward and took Darcy’s arm, leading her some distance away from thegroup. Tony followed, a curious bounce to his step. For a man sporting an uglybruise on his forehead, he looked a little too gleeful for Darcy’s comfort.

“Uh,” she mumbled, glancing backat the others. They watched her for a moment before Jane said something andeveryone turned their attention to her. Darcy scrunched up her face at Tony.“Am I fired? Because I swear I haven’t posted unsolicited Avengers photos ontwitter in more than three weeks!”

Tony snorted, but was otherwiseunsurprised by her admission. “You’re not fired, but we’re gonna have a talkabout your extracurricular activities in the tower.”

“Never mind that,” Steveinterrupted impatiently. “Darcy. This is about the mission.”

Darcy blinked, a surprised smilebeginning to creep onto her face. “You’re allowed to tell me? Am I beingpromoted?”

“Uh, no. Normally, we wouldn’ttell you about where we go and what we do but…” Here, Steve paused and lookeduneasily at the closed door to his left. “But this concerns you, so…”

Darcy nodded slowly, wonderinghow in hell an Avengers mission could concern her. Stranger things have happened, Darcy, she reminded herself, smilingat Steve in encouragement. “Lay it on me, Captain.”

Her eyes flickered briefly to theclosed door. Was Bucky in there?

“Right,” Steve began. “Have you,by any chance, heard of Sirens?”

“Sirens, as in the myth? As in,mermaids who lure sailors into their traps with songs? As in–”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re real,” Tony declaredloudly, cutting her off.

Darcy’s smile didn’t falter. Ifanything, it widened in amusement, a laugh bubbling up inside her, ready toburst forth at the first sight of a mischievous smile on their faces. Shewaited for one of them to yell ‘Gotcha!’ and when no one did, her brow furrowedin confusion. She focused her questioning gaze on Steve, who looked as seriousas ever. If Captain America was serious, it definitely couldn’t be a joke.

“I guess,” she began carefully. “Iguess I can believe that.” After all, she had faced aliens, giant firedemons and more recently, before coming to live in the Tower, a handful ofHYDRA creeps trying to kidnap Jane.

“They’re not from here. But theydo exist in Asgard,” explained Steve. “Apparently, someone thought it’d be funto drop Sirens into the Pacific and let them cause havoc. Thor found out and weimmediately left to capture them.”

Wow, Sirens. Darcy couldn’t stopthe grin spreading on her face when the cool quotient of their mission finally settledin. Her overactive imagination instantly began conjuring images to supportSteve’s words. Stormy skies, dark choppy waters, a mysterious tune in the air,a ship manned by Midgard’s most capable warriors… it was a scene right out of amedieval fantasy novel.

“So, you were off on an excitingfishing trip this past week, eh?” Darcy couldn’t help but ask, “What are theylike, the Sirens? Beautiful or monstrous? Green or sparkly? Wait… how are youguys even here right now? Shouldn’t you be rotting in their underwater caves,lulled there by their enchanting voices?”

“Your confidence in our abilitiesis inspiring,” deadpanned Tony.

Darcy snickered. “So, whathappened? Did you capture them all?”

“We couldn’t. It got really uglyand none of them survived.” Steve paused and looked at the door again. “Exceptone.”

“Oookay.” Darcy’s eyes swept fromSteve to Tony and back. “I’m still waiting for the part where you tell me howany of this concerns me.”

“The remaining Siren… well, Buckywouldn’t let us kill her and,” Steve cleared his throat, “and so we brought herhere.”

“Also, she looks like you,” Tonyadded quickly, earning a glare from Cap. The billionaire merely shrugged.

Darcy stared at them, utterlynonplussed. “What?”

“Yes, well, Sirens assume theform of–”

“The person you desire the most,”she finished impatiently. “I know that, Steve! But what does that have to dowith… wait, are you in love with me?”

“No! God, no! I mean, you’regreat, but…”

“I get it, Cap, jeez!” Shecrossed her arms and regarded both men shrewdly. “So then, Tony saw Pepper andThor must have seen Jane… correct?”

“Not quite. Thor is a demigod.He’s immune to Sirens. And I was in my Iron suit. It protected me from theircharms.”

Darcy frowned. “Okay. What aboutthe others?”

“The Hulk doesn’t desire anyone,nor does Romanoff, which,” Tony turned to Steve with a pout, “was a missedopportunity. Now I’m wondering if she’s a cyborg.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Women areimmune to Siren magic, Tony. Don’t be an ass.” His tone changed then, as he spokesoftly, “I saw Peggy. She was beautiful. She swam out of the water and took myhand.” Steve gulped. “But I snapped out of the enchantment when Tony punched meand reminded me she’s dead.”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” sangTony. “Otherwise she’d have pulled you right into the ocean with Barnes.”

Darcy’s gaze flicked from one manto the other as they spoke, her brain working full time to process all this newand incredible information. Needing a moment to sort everything out, she tunedout the conversation and focused her energy on what Steve and Tony wereultimately trying to tell her.

She thought she knew. It scaredher a bit, but she was beginning to get an inkling of where this conversationwas headed and how she was involved. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at themere idea of it, giant butterflies, ones that only took flight when a certainsuper soldier was around.

“We don’t really know who theSiren turned into to hypnotize Clint,” Steve was saying when Darcy focused onhim again.

“I heard him call her Laura,”supplied Tony, sounding intrigued. “Who’s Laura?”

They stood in thought for a momentbefore Steve placed a gentle hand on Darcy’s shoulder, his blue eyes earnest. “Ithink you know now why you’re here.”

“Y-yeah.” She looked hesitantlyat the door. “Are they in there?”

Steve nodded. “The Siren is theretoo, but she’s beyond the glass pane. Imprisoned. Don’t… don’t look at her.”

Tony waved off his advice andremarked, “You can check her out if you want, but since she refuses to changeforms, it’ll be a bizarro parent trap kinda situation, so try not to freakout.” He opened the door and stepped aside to let her in.

Darcy found herself in a smallprivate ward with three beds lining the opposite wall. To her right lay anunconscious Clint, bruised and battered, with his leg in a cast. She watchedhim for a moment, her heart heavy. Suddenly, the latest mission didn’t seem socool anymore. It had evidently been dangerous and exhausting. And Clint seemedto have gotten the short end of the stick. The Sirens had done one hell of anumber on him.

“Darcy?”

She jumped slightly and turned tosee Bucky sitting on a bed, shirtless, his metal hand resting just above a longred gash on his abdomen. He looked alarmed to see her. “Who let you in?”

Darcy stepped closer, her eyestrained on his injury. An inch of it, at the top, had healed already and thescar it left behind was pink and swollen. She was about to ask him how he wasfeeling when a movement to her left caught her eye.

“Don’t…” Bucky began but it wastoo late. Darcy had already whipped around and was now gaping openly at thesight before her.

“Woah,” she murmured, momentarilyforgetting about Bucky and going to stand before the glass pane. If she didn’tknow any better, she would have thought she was looking into a mirror.

The woman on the other sidelooked just like her. Same blue-green eyes, pouty lips, flowing dark hair… eventhe expression on her face reflected Darcy on a typical day, bored and ready todish out a sarcastic comment at the drop of a hat.

Still, there was something about her. A certain glow, that Darcylacked. She wore rags which she plucked and pulled at, clearly wanting to getrid of them. But someone, one of the Avengers perhaps, had strapped twin beltsaround her frame to hold the rags in place and to keep her from strippingnaked. Darcy flushed, thinking about one of the guys covering her bare bodywith the fabric. It was embarrassing to think someone wearing her skin had pranced naked in front ofthe mighty Avengers.

Muffled sound of Bucky callingher name reached her ears but Darcy couldn’t take her eyes off of herself. Sheidly wondered if Sirens could bewitch, not just men but, women too. Withoutthinking, she raised a hand and placed it on the thick sheet of glassseparating them. The Siren’s lips moved but no sound came out. The glass was probablysound proof.

For a moment, it looked like shewould imitate the action and place her palm over Darcy’s, but the next second,she lunged at the glass, her lips pulled back over her sharp, animal-like teethin a seemingly silent growl.

Darcy shrieked and jumped back,colliding with something solid. Heart hammering in her chest, she tore her gazeaway from her scary clone and turned to find Bucky standing behind her.

“Are you all right?”

“Dude,” she breathed, clutchinghis arm tightly. “Why did the Siren take on my image to try and seduce you?”

Bucky looked pained, like he wasfighting with himself and didn’t know how to respond.

“Is there something you wannatell me?” Darcy pressed, willing him to speak.

She was nervous and excited to hear his confession. Inall the months she had known him, not once had he given any indication that hedesired her as more than a friend. He hung out with her whenever they ran intoeach other, but never went out of his way to seek her. He was also veryunapologetic about leaving abruptly when he wasn’t in the mood to be around heror anyone else.

Jane had once remarked that hiseyes followed Darcy whenever they were in the same room. Her off-hand remarkhad been waved aside, presumed false and possibly a product of her vividimagination. But maybe she had been right. Darcy was always so focused on not staring at Bucky for too long thatshe hadn’t realize he noticed her too.

Now, as she stared hopefully intohis slightly glassy eyes, she cursed herself for how blind she’d been.

“You should leave.” His gruffvoice, low with restraint, popped her growing bubble of happiness and Darcylooked at him, confused.

“What?”

“Go. Now,” Bucky practicallybegged and Darcy’s heart sank.

“Yeah, okay.” He was embarrassed,that was it. Maybe he was ashamed of wanting her. Or maybe he didn’t reallywant her and the Siren’s magic was flawed; it had shown him Darcy instead ofsomeone else.

She stumbled away from him,feeling utterly stupid. “Cool. It’s all cool, Barnes. I… I won’t ever bring itup, if that’s what you want.”

She turned around and fled theroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Everyone outside had left, exceptSteve and Natasha, who were standing in a corner with Steve slumped against thewall and Natasha whispering something fast in his ear. At one point, she pulledher hand back and slapped him hard.

“Snap out of it,” Darcy heard hersay before she stepped into the elevator and let it whisk her away from thecraziness.

–o–

That evening, Thor brought thelimp body of an unfamiliar woman into the lab.

“What the hell?” Darcy exclaimed,rolling her chair far away and making a face at Jane.

The astrophysicist lookedapologetic. “This is why Steve had to tell you about her,” she said. “So youwouldn’t freak out when Thor brought her here.”

Darcy had no idea what Jane was talkingabout. “Who is she?”

When she got no answer, only twinexpressions of ‘take a guess, why don’t you?’ realization dawned and Darcy’sgaze snapped back to the unconscious woman who looked nothing like her. She had ginger hair, dry thin lips, and skin thecolor of lichen.

“Why does she look like that?”she asked Thor.

“It’s her original form,” heexplained. “I assumed seeing her awake would upset you, like it did earlier.”Darcy wondered how he knew. “Therefore I requested the Midgardian healer todrug her. Following that, she naturally changed back into her original form.”

“Whatever.” Darcy sniffed. “Whydid you bring her here?”

Jane cleared a table far awayfrom the important equipment. “Bruce wanted me to run some tests on her beforeThor takes her back to Asgard. Are you going to stay and help?”

“Not if you’re planning tomutilate her for science.” At the horrified look on Jane’s face, Darcy quicklybacktracked. “Joke. ‘Twas a joke, Janey.”

She watched Thor lay her down onthe table, then asked quietly, “Is Bucky okay now?”

Thor nodded and regarded herseriously. “Are you?”

Darcy broke into a reluctantgrin. “Pfft. I’m alive and kickin’, big guy. Never been better. Tell me, whatdo I have to do? Remove an eyeball, pluck out all her hair, superglue her fingerstogether…?”

Jane huffed. “Let’s start withtaking a sample of her blood, shall we?”

Two minutes in, Darcy exclaimedtriumphantly, “Look at that, her blood is green. Told you there’s somethingwrong with her.”

“Darcy, focus.”

“Her magic is clearly flawed. TheAvengers were duped.”

–o–

The Siren incident turned herentire life upside down. She couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes or Bruce’s orNatasha’s, knowing that they had seen her naked, watched her attack them and mercilesslypull one of their friends underwater. She couldn’t talk to them freely withoutwondering if they’d be triggered by the sight of her.

She knew it hadn’t been her. They knew it, too. But Darcy stillcouldn’t reconcile with the fact that a monster had taken her form to seduce anAvenger.

“I don’t understand what’s soupsetting about this,” Tony wondered when he visited Jane’s lab a few dayslater and saw Darcy moping around. “Shouldn’t you be happy Barnes is warm foryour form? Granted, he’s a first class jerk most of the time but he’s an okayguy overall.”

Out of all the Avengers, Tonyseemed to have moved past the incident really fast. Darcy didn’t know if itdisturbed her or endeared him to her. These days, he was more open to herinterference in his life and had started calling her Darcy instead of Lewis. Itfelt nice. He didn’t judge her, didn’t look at her like she had betrayed himsomehow. Well, neither did the others, but Darcy couldn’t help but feel herpresence made them uncomfortable.

“Tony,” she sighed, shooting hima halfhearted glare. “First of all, he’s not a jerk. Second of all, you don’tunderstand what I’m going through.”

“You’re thinking too much, Darcy.Stop assuming things and get out of this stuffy lab once in a while. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” He winked as he left.“Now forget about the Siren and see the bright side.”

Darcy moaned and thunked her headon her desk. There was nothing bright or positive about what had happened. Sheblamed Steve for telling her about the Siren. Making her think, for a few shorteuphoric moments, that Bucky Barnesdesired her. Clearly he didn’t, and was just as disturbed as she was about itall.

In a bid to clear the air withher, he had taken to showing up at the most unexpected moments. When she washaving breakfast in the kitchen with Thor and Jane. When she was returning fromher afternoon coffee run. When she snuck up to the communal floor to relax whenno one was around.

Darcy knew he was deliberatelyseeking her out. She knew because, while previously she had a hard time findinghim whenever she wanted to hang out, now he was everywhere! He even went so faras to send her a box of her favorite cookies with a small note attached thatread I’m sorry. We need to talk.

But Darcy wasn’t stupid. If allhe wanted to say was sorry, that the Siren incident had been a terrible mistakeand Darcy shouldn’t have been there in the first place, then she had nointerest in talking to him whatsoever. In fact, he had nothing to apologize for. None of what had happened was his fault.Seeing the Siren take Darcy’s form had caused everyone to jump to false conclusionswithout a single consideration of thefact that the darned sea witch could have made a mistake.

It was the reason why Darcywasn’t ready to face Bucky, wasn’t ready to hear him say sorry. She didn’t wanthis pity. Nor was she keen to see the rejection in his eyes. Again.

No. Staying away was the bestoption.

With that thought in mind, shebegan to avoid him. She left the kitchen when he showed up, changed directions whenshe glimpsed him in the distance, avoided the communal floor, ignored his calls,and tossed the box of cookies to Jane, not before snagging a cookie for herselfand stomping up to her room to sulk. Howwas this her life?

She’d have to tell Steve to tellBucky to get off her back. She knew what he wanted to say. He didn’t have to freakingspell it out to her!

–o–

“Jane, can I have the eveningoff?”

“Why?”

“I’m sick.” Darcy faked a cough.

Jane looked skeptical. “Nice try.Why do you really want the eveningoff?”

Darcy sighed and spouted anotherlie. “I have a date.”

Instead of smiling and giving herthumbs up like she always did, Jane frowned. “With whom?”

“You don’t know him.”

“Does Bucky know?”

Her heart skipped a beat at themention of his name but Darcy had successfully learned to control her reactionsover the past few days. “Why would I tell him about my love life?” she saidcasually, taking her phone and getting to her feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow,‘kay?”

“Darcy!” Jane called after her.“What about dinner tonight with the Avengers? You can’t miss that.”

Watch me, she wanted to retort, but she merely grinned and said,“Sorry, Jane. Next time.”

A week ago, Darcy would havejumped at the chance to hang out with the Avengers. Now, it was exactly thekind of thing she was looking to avoid. It wasn’t the only reason why shewanted the evening off, though. The day before, Bucky had wandered onto the labfloor–without warning!–and, forget facing him like a grown-ass woman would,Darcy didn’t even have the courage to smile and make some excuse to leave. No. Shehad chickened out and had hid behind the generator until he went away.

She had a feeling he would comeagain. He had never invaded her work space before, so she felt particularlyannoyed about it. Especially since every time she saw him, a thrill shotthrough her system and her heart rate quickened. She hated herself for it.

“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,” she scoldedherself tiredly, kicking shut the door to her apartment and throwing herself onthe couch. “You can’t run forever… can’t take every evening off… can’t go here…can’t go there… all because of a stupid Siren.”

She lay there for goodness knewhow long, her blank stare tracing indistinct patterns on the ceiling, until theabrupt sound of the doorbell broke her out of her reverie.

“Un momento,” she called,dragging her feet to the door and pulling it open. Only to gasp and slam itshut again.

But before she could shut itcompletely, five metal fingers curled around the edge and pushed the door openwith ease. Shocked and more than a little angry at the intrusion, Darcy scowledat Bucky when he stepped in and carefully closed the door behind him. His eyeswere trained on hers and his gait was determined as he slowly advanced on her.

His voice, when he spoke, wascool, restrained. “How long did you think you could avoid me?”

Darcy bristled at his tone, herprevious reservations about talking to him forgotten. “You were the one whotold me to leave,” she bit out. “I was simply following orders.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed. “Don’t sassme, Darcy.”

“What do you want me to do?” she demanded,crossing her arms defensively. “Sit through your baseless apology and then goour separate ways?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Isthat what you think I want?”

“Why else would you follow me allaround the tower if not to apologize for something that isn’t even your fault?I get that you’re embarrassed but you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“What–no, that’s not at all whyI wanted to talk to you!”

Darcy scoffed. “Why, then? ‘CauseI’m pretty sure it wasn’t just to tell me my hair smells good.”

“It does smell good,” Bucky said quietly, blue eyes momentarilydropping to the locks of hair resting over the swell of her breast.

Darcy faltered, sidetracked bythe sudden shift in conversation. “Um,” she fumbled, blinking rapidly. Hewasn’t supposed to look at her like that. It was making her forget what she wantedto say.

“Darce,” Bucky said, takingadvantage of her temporary speechlessness. “You have no idea what happened that day. Please don’t presume–”

“No,” Darcy said immediately. Shelooked at him, eager to make him understand. “I know what happened. Jane and I figured it out. It’s not your faultthe Siren’s enchantment was crappy. She clearly made a mistake with you.”

“What are you on about?” Buckygrumbled. “She didn’t make any goddamn mistakes! In fact, she did her jobexceptionally well if the fading scar on my torso is any indication.”

Darcy shook her head vehemently.“But her magic was flawed…”

At her words, he shot her a lookof utter disbelief. “Is that what you tell yourself to ease your misplacedhurt? Jesus, Darcy, what’s wrong with you?” He started to pace, his movementsquick and jerky. “That day, when I told you to leave, I wasn’t rejecting you.”

“Bucky, it’s okay. I don’t–”

“No, you need to hear this!” heinsisted.

Darcy clamped her mouth shut andnodded for him to continue.

“That day, when you came in, theSiren… she recognized you.”

“Well, of course she did!”

“Shut up for a minute, will you?”

“Fine.”

Bucky huffed and went on, “Themoment she saw you, she started… humming.”

“Humming?” But she hadn’t heard asingle peep out of the Siren.

“Yeah. It was faint, not likewhen we were at sea, where the music was loud, clear and near impossible toresist.” Bucky’s eyes glazed over as he spoke and Darcy listened to him,stunned into silence. “It was chaos. The Sirens were powerful and unrelenting.They each picked one of us as their target and didn’t back down until eitherthey were dead or we were in the sea with them. Stark may have gotten over itquickly but I know he was scared shitless when Steve succumbed to theenchantment.”

Hearing Bucky recite the fullstory made Darcy suddenly realize how much the mission had affected him. Shehad been so engrossed in her own concerns, she hadn’t stopped to think aboutwhat the Avengers had been through. She remembered the state of Dr. Banner’sclothes that day, the bandage wrapped around Natasha’s forearm, Clint’s brokenleg in a cast, the quiet look on Steve’s face when he had mentioned Peggy.

She also recalled Natasha hittingSteve, telling him to ‘snap out of it’. At the time, Darcy hadn’t paidattention to them. But now she knew. Like Bucky, Steve was hearing the musictoo.

“It was a sound proof ward Starklocked her in,” Bucky continued. “But a hint of that godforsaken tune slipped throughsomehow. It was distracting. I was hurt and you were there… and I couldn’tconcentrate… and–”

Before he could say another word,Darcy stepped closer and placed a hand on his cheek to stop him. She’d heardenough. She didn’t want any more explanations.

“It’s okay,” she whispered,grazing her fingers down his face. The bristles on his cheek felt deliciousagainst the soft skin of her palm. “I get it.”

He covered her hand with his andbrought it to rest over his heart. “I wasn’t rejecting you, Darcy. I justdidn’t want you to see me at my weakest.”

“Okay,” Darcy said simply,ignoring the sudden burst of hope that filled her chest at his words. “Ithought you didn’t want me,” she added in a small voice.

Bucky raised a hand to tuck alock behind her ear, his fingers combing through her hair before coming to cupher neck. “You thought wrong.”

Darcy swayed closer to him,reveling in the tiny sparks of electricity his touch elicited. She caughtherself wishing she had approached him sooner, cleared everything upinstead of avoiding him like a coward. They had wasted so much time playinghide and seek.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth. Shereally wanted him to kiss her, she knew he wantedto, but he made no such move. He just stood there and looked at her like shewas the most amazing thing in the world.

“I tried so hard to stay awayfrom you,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips over her forehead. “Ireally did.”

“Why?” Darcy breathed, closingher eyes when he pressed light kisses over her eyelids.

“I didn’t think I was ready for arelationship.” His lips moved down her cheek, as slow as ever. “I didn’t thinkyou’d want one with me anyway.”

“Because you’re the WinterSoldier?”

“Mm-hmm.” He smiled against herjaw when he felt her wrap her arms around his waist and pull him flush againsther.

“I think the Winter Soldier ispretty cool,” Darcy teased. “It’s Bucky Barnes who’s an idiot.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Notgonna argue with that, doll.”

“Good. Now, are you planning to kissme soon…” Darcy stretched up on her tiptoes until her lips were a hair’sbreadth away from his. “Or do I have to place an enchantment on you?”

“No, ma’am, once is enough,”Bucky replied with a grin, leaning down and capturing her lips in a sound kiss.

So, maybe Tony was right. Maybe there was abright side to the Siren incident after all.

Tell me what you wish me to write. I just might write it.

[vmheadquarters]

What Goes Around... (Part 27a)

This is PART 27a of a story that is being told in segments by twenty-seven different authors, campfire-style. Each author will take over the story with no prior planning and then pass it on after putting their own spin on it! Expect the unexpected! :)  You can check our vmhq campfire tale tag for all of the previous installments or read the story as it develops on AO3. — Part 27a is written by @cheshirecatstrut 

[Part 26]

PART I: REUNION

VERONICA

“Oh SHIT,” Veronica whispers, meeting her father’s gaze. “Wei’s in on it with them!”

She takes off speed-walking towards the lying SOB, who’s wandered away from the group—to do what, she’s not sure, maybe berate him until he cries, because how DARE HE? But Dad grabs her arm.

“You can’t,” he warns. “Wei doesn’t know we know, and right now, that’s our only advantage. He’s the one who called these cops—we might be witnessing a cover-up right now, not an investigation.”

She reverses direction, but he doesn’t let go…instead, he draws her away from the crowd. “Veronica, you can’t tell Logan either, he’s still set to transmit. If ALL the background chatter in Wei’s earpiece falls silent, the guy’s bound to get suspicious.”

V nods reluctant agreement. Logan’s currently holding Lydia so Norris can cuff her, while discussing antidote-formulating techniques with Mac (using analogies to Powerpuff Girls). “So when Wei mentioned he killed a cop…do you think he meant LEO?”

“Honey…” Keith sighs. “I’m sorry, but we have to assume that’s true. This whole situation is much graver than we realized. We can’t trust the information Wei gave us, except the part about a corrupt Neptune PD, and we have very little other data. We need the help of more reliable authorities.”

“And what would motivate reliable authorities to work with us?” She frowns as a Neptune deputy wanders past. “The enemy’s taken charge already--I’m sure they’re erasing leads as we speak.”

“Can you trust me?” Keith gives her the patient look she dreads, unconsciously checking his shoulder holster.

She crosses her arms. “I already hate this plan.”

Gently, he untucks her hand, places the remote in it, and curls her fingers around. “I’m armed, I’ve got my wits about me, and we still have the element of surprise. Plus, Norris Clayton hasn’t left; and whatever his faults, aggression-wise, I’m sure that young man isn’t crooked. He’ll help me put Wei, Jeff and Lydia in jail where they belong. You and Logan should take the antidote back to Wallace, then get him to a hospital.”

He’s right, Veronica knows he’s right, but that doesn’t make leaving him behind easier. Flinging her arms around his neck, she murmurs, “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, honey,” he says. “And don’t worry so much. No lowlife’s managed to best me yet.”

“Not for lack of trying,” she reminds him, but manages a smile. “I’m a grown-up now, though, and a full Mars Investigations partner. Tough moments like this one come with the territory.”

She kisses him on the cheek, turns, and strides confidently to Dick’s SUV. Makes a point of not looking back.

KEITH

“When COULDN’T you handle the tough moments?” Keith murmurs, watching her retreat. “With aplomb, even?”

He pats his gun once more for luck as Logan’s ‘What’s wrong?’ is abruptly silenced—darling daughter’s no doubt filling her boyfriend in via Morse code. A moment later, Dick Casablancas’ SUV squeals away… en route, full speed, to save another underdog.

Keith’s never completely trusted the Echolls kid, despite his Navy-facilitated turnaround; he’s got a better soul than Aaron, but fronts with the same practiced smarm. Logan would undoubtedly take a bullet for Veronica, though…and tonight, that’s company Keith wants his only child keeping.

A quick look around verifies Breitski’s across the lot, discussing ways to keep this fiasco out of the news with an apparently-crooked deputy. He’s got his back turned, so Keith pops the hood on his Camry, saws the alternator belt almost in half with a pocket knife, and quickly plants a tracker. Then he closes up, and goes hunting for Norris Clayton.

The over-competent former juvenile delinquent is easy to spot. Not only does he tower above everybody else on scene, he’s the only guy doing his job. A morose Jeff and a stridently-yelling Lydia are cuffed in the back of his cruiser already, and he’s doggedly filling out paperwork.

“Got a minute?” Keith asks, gesturing with his head to beckon Clayton away from the perps. To his credit, the kid doesn’t hesitate. Just tosses his clipboard into the driver’s seat and obligingly saunters closer.

“Problem?” Norris asks, with typical bluntness. Faintly, Keith smiles.

“You could say that,” he agrees, rueful. “Breitski’s dirty on a Federal scale, and so are most of your co-workers. He plans to run off with your bickering perps under pretense of booking them, and you’re the only person I can trust to help stop him.”

“What do you need me to do?” Clayton asks, watching as Breitski pats his pal on the shoulder and approaches.

“Just follow my lead,” Keith says. “And make whatever face is your version of a bland smile.”

“Mr. Mars,” Breitski calls, adjusting his fedora as he approaches—Keith should have known he was a jerk from the start, wearing a hat like that. “I need a favor. Can I commandeer your car to take the Van Vliets to San Diego? The Sheriff’s too busy to arrange transport, and you live close enough to call a cab.”

“Sure,” Keith says easily, handing over his keys. “Anything to help the course of justice run smooth. Just have someone drop it at Mars Investigations when you’re done?”

“You bet!” Wei winks and grins—Keith half-expects a tongue-click and finger-gun. “And please, convey my thanks to your daughter, will you? This case has been a bear. Without her assistance, no way could we have caught these masterminds.”

“Veronica’s impressive,” Keith agrees, allowing his hand to be shaken. “I’m biased, of course, but many impartial sources agree.”

Wei transfers the suddenly-subdued Jeff and Lydia into the Camry, takes off with a finger-to-hat-brim salute. Keith waits until they’re out of sight, listening with a faint head shake to Lydia shrieking because Liam Fitpatrick tried to murder her. Wei tells her Liam’s been handled, and she should be glad she’s not in jail.

Then Keith pulls a bug tracker from the pocket of his overcoat, checks to make sure it’s working, and gestures for Norris to join him in the patrol car.

“Follow that dot.” He suctions the tracker to the dash and points at the interactive map. “And stay far enough back Breitski can’t spot us—he may be unethical, but he’s no fool.”

“You want to tell me what, exactly, this Federal conspiracy is?” Norris asks, once they’re driving through the dark a half mile behind Wei. “Or wait, let me guess…it involves that new drug making people pink and violent. It’s been pouring out of Orange County lately. A minor Fitzpatrick died all popsicle-colored in lockup, about two weeks ago. I was warned off asking for details.”

“Good instincts,” Keith says. “Apparently this substance makes people strong and fast, but it’s also highly toxic—the one victim I’ve seen is in bad shape. Brietski’s wearing an earbud he’s not aware is transmitting, and it sounds like a coup against Liam Fitzpatrick, the mastermind, is in progress.”

Clayton nods, impassive as always--Keith frowns and focuses on eavesdropping as Wei answers a call. “Yes, I hear you, the alarm’s going off soon. Keep your fucking pants on. I’ll head right over, as soon as Jeff and Lydia are squared away.”

“Are you sure Fitzpatrick’s in charge?” Clayton asks, interrupting Keith’s mental run-down of possible alarms. “Because I realize back in the Van Lowe days, he had some sway with the Neptune PD. But the Irish mob is on the downswing lately, influence-wise. And I got the impression, based on the vehemence with which I was chased off, that someone rich and powerful is pulling strings.”

Keith holds up a hand for silence as Wei’s earbud picks up the sound of an engine, coughing and seizing. Winces, hoping his Camry doesn’t throw a rod. “Something’s wrong,” Wei says, accompanied by a grinding noise as the car stalls. “Shit, shit, shit, I need to hitch a ride.”

“Who in their right mind would pick us up?” Lydia screeches, her voice making Keith wince. “We’re both handcuffed, I’m covered in gasoline, and my shoes exploded along with the warehouse!”

“Good point,” Wei says, and follows up calmly with two gunshots. Keith gasps and grabs the dash for balance. “Guess you’ve both outlived your usefulness. Consider that your pension.”

“I think Breitski just shot Jeff and Lydia,” Keith tells Clayton, who kicks on the sirens and floors it in response. He reports a possible homicide over the radio as they surge full speed up a hill.

Just past the crest, their headlights splash over a male figure, braced in a two-handed gun stance mid-road, sidearm aimed. Clayton--spurred, maybe by the simmering aggression that once earned him a stint in juvie--speeds up in response, and Keith braces grimly for impact. But Breitski just shoots, creating a spiderweb of cracks in the bulletproof windshield, then JUMPS, higher than the most sought-after NBA draft-pick could manage. And lands on the hood of the cruiser with a thud.

Norris goes into a skid, tagging the Camry’s bumper as he slides by; his muttered “Holy…” is interrupted by a fist smashing through the windshield. Bloody fingers grab the jagged edge, yanking the whole rectangle loose, and the half-shattered sheet flies off into the night. Breitski reaches back in, catching Clayton by the shirtfront while he fumbles for his gun, and hauls him out, too.

Keith lunges for the wheel, manages to turn the car and stomp the brakes before they crash into roadside woods. Watches, horrified, as Breitski hurls Clayton against a pine trunk. Keith’s only ally slides bonelessly to the ground, and stays there, prone.

He opens the door to run for it, but is lifted out before he can…hoisted full-arm’s-length by Breitski, who’s standing on the hood. He dangles, held by the lapels of his coat; the blue-and-red emergency lights strobe Breitski’s face as he smiles.

“Not all the super soldiers are pink and dumb, I’m afraid,” he says, and gives Keith an admonishing shake. “The secondary formula’s for a specific purpose--it’s designed to be IN-effective, and eventually terminal. Now, I need you to nap while I jury-rig your alternator belt—a battered cop car won’t blend on the road to the winery. Say goodnight, Gracie.”

His other fist swings up, fast as regrets, catching Keith square in the temple. Shortly after which, everything goes black.

STORYLINE 2: WEEVIL WALLACE

Weevil loves his bike a lot—it’s a guilty, rebel-youth pleasure he thought he’d never enjoy again--but road-trip monotony is a bitch.

He’s been driving through the dark for half an hour; Fennel’s groans have subsided ominously into silence, broken only by the engine’s growl. Today’s already featured ten hours under car hoods, a fight about visitation with his soon-to-be-ex, and of course, the usual Mars nonsense. He’d pay a grand for one of those sugar-bomb Starbucks coffees right now, some pumpkin spice seasonal bullshit, followed by a couple stiff drinks. But instead he’ll be napping in the CDC waiting room, and roll home just in time to open the shop.

Faintly, at the horizon, he spots red-blue strobes flashing, and curses under his breath—if a cop’s burning to pull someone over, a pink guy duct taped to a biker will make his night. But there’s only one road, and Fennel needs help, so Weevil clenches his teeth Veronica-style and keeps on going.

As he approaches, it becomes obvious something’s wrong; the car’s slewed sideways blocking traffic, windshield shattered ten feet away, driver door hanging open. There’s blood splattered on the hood. Something ugly went down, and Weevil wants no part of it—he’s tightening his fingers on the gas when he realizes fleeing’s impossible.

Norris Clayton, Veronica’s deputy friend, is crawling slowly along the asphalt towards the radio, bleeding from the back of the head. His face turns sideways, slo-mo, to watch hopefully as Weevil slows. “Nav…ro,” he manages, barely audible over the bike’s idle. Then, gathering himself to try harder, “VerONica.”

“I can’t help you, man,” Weevil calls, frustrated. “I can barely dismount unless you cut me loose. I’m duct-taped to Fennel, here, and he ain’t doing so hot.”

“Yeah, he’s…pink,” Norris observes, managing to sit up and fish in his pocket. Locates a switchblade, which he holds out. “This big enough to saw through?”

Wallace rouses, babbles something incomprehensible, and Norris adds, “Veronica found the antidote. She’s on her way back to the winery now…might already be there.”

Shit. “She couldn’t call?” Weevil asks, rhetorically, putting the bike in park as close to Clayton as possible. He lifts with his legs to hoist himself off, Fennel dangling limply. Accepting the knife with a smirk, he adds, “You know, other than the uniform, you haven’t changed much.”

Twisting sideways painfully, he begins to saw at the tape--Norris crawls behind him to brace Wallace. “Learned to control my temper,” Norris says, and Weevil can just see him gingerly prodding the back of his skull. “Fucker threw me against a TREE. Breitski—he’s on something strong. Haven’t seen Keith since I woke up, either…odds are good he’s a hostage.”

Weevil cuts the last of the tape, and between them they get Wallace prone on the roadside. The guy looks bad, head thrashing, foaming at the mouth. The sideways glance Clayton flashes says he agrees.

“Can you stand up?” Weevil asks. “Get yourself in the passenger seat? I can lift Fennel into the back, he’s a little dude, but you gotta weigh like two hundred pounds.”

Clayton braces his hand on the fender and pushes upright…tumbles sideways, catches himself. “Dizzy,” he says, rueful. “I’ve got a bitch of a concussion, but I’ll live. Put him in the car and go hide your bike. We’ll discuss how deep the shit drowning us is on the way to Van Vliet’s.”

“It’s a LAKE, man,” Weevil warns, but obligingly hoists Wallace. “I’m actually disappointed for once you can’t fight. Tonight, those fists of fury of yours would come in handy.”

VERONICA

“Well, if this was Gilligan’s Island, we could solve the whole problem with extract of coconut,” Mac is saying, buckling her seatbelt as V climbs into the SUV. “But since it’s REALITY, there’s actual science involved in producing a cure.”

“If this was Gilligan’s Island,” Logan drawls, fishing for keys, “the events of the day would be an amusing misunderstanding, thanks to Gilligan falling in a vat of papaya juice. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure Wallace…” he frowns as he notices V’s expression. “Hey, pumpkin, what’s wr…”

She slaps a palm over his mouth, gestures for Mac to hand over the iPad she ripped off from the winery. Pulls up the word processor and types, “Wei’s dirty, and he’s listening to everything you say. Your stupid earbud’s set to transmit.”

Logan’s eyes widen in understanding. “Wow,” he improvises, smacking his lips like they’ve been kissing. “We’ve only been apart two minutes. I guess it really is true what they say about danger being an aphrodisiac.”

Mac gestures for the tablet, and says as she types, “Your fault, for running around with no shirt all day, acting brawny and heroic. Although please, next time? Have some respect for my innocent eyes and take it outside.”

She hands the pad back, and V and Logan cluster together to read. “What should we do? We can’t trust the Neptune PD to help, and Wallace needs that antidote ASAP.”

Veronica types, “Dad and your new boyfriend Norris will handle Wei. We’re making tracks for the winery, and trying to breathe through stress.”

Logan winks, starts the engine, and says, “I could really go for an In-and-Out burger, you two game? Mac, do their fries pass muster in vegetarian circles?”

He pulls out onto the highway heading back towards Van Vliet’s. Mac’s reply--“I’ve been cheating death all evening. I’m willing to ignore a little lard,”--is interrupted by the chime of Logan’s cell.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he registers the unknown sender and lifts his brows at Veronica. She shakes her head, pointing at her earbud; frowns as Wei says something about an alarm going off. A dig through her bag confirms she’s also received an unknown call, so she holds up a finger and retrieves the message.

“Veronica?” Leo D’Amato’s voice filters thinly through, poor connection with a side of mechanical beeping. “Listen, I hate to leave important stuff on voicemail, but I keep calling down your list, and the only person I can reach is Dick. I just need you to know Brietski’s in with the drug runners—and I’m sure of this, he shot me in what would have been my heart if I hadn’t ducked. Also, the shenanigans at the Van Vliet’s are a bigger deal than I thought, when I sent you to dig for the missing safe. I’ve just had a visit from some pissed-off military brass. So just…contact Bob Dillen at the San Diego PD if you need rescuing, he’s definitely honest. And stay away from the winery--not to mention anyone lurking there who might be…pink.”

No can do, Detective, she thinks, hanging up. I owe a dose of antidote to my best friend. But I’m glad you’re not dead because I failed to smell a rat.

Logan smirks as the sound of Brietski’s car stalling is conveyed by the earbud, mouths “Sabotage?” at Veronica. She grins— Dad likely frayed the alternator belt—then jerks in shock as gunshots ring out.

“What the fuck?” Logan mutters over the squealing, skidding, and shattering glass. “Which road did they take? Do you think they’re behind us?”

“You guys, what’s happening?” Mac asks from the back seat. “I’m not wearing an earbud, there weren’t enough in my bag! You guys!”

Veronica grabs Logan’s forearm, fingernails digging in, as Wei’s speech to Keith is followed by a wet thud.

“Oh shit,” Mac says, pressing fingertips to her lips. “DID WEI DO SOMETHING TO KEITH?”

A frantic head shake from Veronica makes Mac realize she shouldn’t have yelled, but it’s too late. A stream of curses erupt from Breitski, followed by, “Very sneaky, Veronica Mars, switching me to transmit. No more spying, though, or you might hear something you REALLY won’t like.”

His earbud emits a loud squeal, consistent with being crushed, goes silent. A second later there’s another squeal, no doubt Keith’s unit. Veronica closes her eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” Logan asks, voice low and reassuring. “Keep heading towards the winery, or turn around and search?”

“You know what? I can track Keith’s cell.” Mac reaches down and fumbles in her bag of equipment; pulls out an electronic module and rapidly types. It lights up, processing, and she says, “They’re on the PCH, not this road. It will take us longer to backtrack and locate the accident than it will to meet them there. Wei must be headed back to Van Vliet’s, right?”

Clenching her jaw, Veronica opens her eyes and nods. Logan entwines their fingers, then floors the gas.

It’s a thirty-minute drive, but they make it in seventeen. Logan cuts up the service road, which runs twenty feet in the direction V DIDN’T walk this morning, right past the bird-infested clearing.

“That’s where they dropped me.” She shakes her head as they pass at her navigational failure. “There’s the bike Ruby supposedly rode in pursuit.”

“Ruby’s full of it.” Mac peers out the darkened window. “Leaving aside the impossibility of keeping pace, that’s a kid’s bicycle. She’d never fit. My guess is, it’s Katie’s, from before the accident that left her paralyzed.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Ruby to drive you here herself,” Logan says. “Or to hide in the back of the truck and attempt rescue, since that would earn my gratitude. Hate to break it to you, babe, but she wants me BAD.”

“Thanks for the news flash.” Veronica elbows him as they pass the guest house, grateful for the attempt to keep her spirits up. Watches him wince as the still-smoking remains of his beloved BMW hove into view. Then frowns, because it looks like the front planters have been smashed, and the door’s…ripped off its hinges? “Jesus, what HAPPENED while we were at the warehouse?”

They pile out of the car, but Logan holds up a hand to halt his companions’ progress. Kneels to study the ground. “Bare feet and motorcycle tracks. Feet head through there,” he points at the hole where the door used to be, “tracks go around to the side. Anybody notice a Harley carrying a naked passenger, at any point in the proceedings?”

Veronica lifts her brows and he grins, standing. Wipes dirt, futilely, off the grungy knees of his jeans. “Military survival training,” he explains, with a faint smile. “Don’t look so surprised. I can built a yurt out of sticks, too, if need be.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She bats her lashes and beckons to Mac, who’s standing on crushed snapdragons, examining a shattered picture window. “The only biker I know who would turn up to help me is Weevil, but I don’t remember calling him. And surely if Dad had, he would have said so?”

“To be fair,” Mac contributes, “there’s a lot you don’t remember. And Weevil definitely drives a Harley. Maybe he went in through the patio?”

They check, but the French doors are locked; through the glass, Veronica can see someone’s stuffed a chair under the knob. A quick circuit of the house shows all other doors in the same condition, and nobody’s visible through the windows. “It’s like they prepared for a siege,” she says, thoughtfully. “But someone had the brute force to break in anyway.”

“In which case, either they hid, or were taken,” Logan says grimly. “We’ll have to enter through the front and search.”

“I’m calling Dick.” Mac pulls out her cell, listens, groans. “No joy. You wouldn’t happen to have anything resembling weaponry in that bag, would you?”

Silently, Veronica hands over the taser, then loads Jeff’s golden gun. She offers it to Logan, because he’s actually not terrified of firearms, but he waves it away—then steps in front, to precede her through the broken door.

There’s debris in the hall, mostly splintered wood; the coat closet stands open. Frowning, Logan indicates bloody footprints and says, “They were planning to wait in the library, right? Because it looks like whoever made these came from, then went back to, that room.”

“Could there be another Pink Hulk?” Veronica wonders, studying the prints as they pass. “That would explain the discrepancy in size and aggression between the guy that initially chased us and poor Wallace. These feet are big--and if he took off his shoes before getting in the coffin, I’d guess he chose to be there.” She taps her chin with one finger, thinking. “But if there ARE two of them, where was this guy…altered? The barn’s only got one pod, and Wallace was in it all day.”

“Could be more hidden somewhere else.” Logan follows the trail, alert and focused in a way that’s…really smoking hot, though this is not the time to dwell. Pushes the library door open and scouts before beckoning them in.

“Or someone took Hulk One out in order to pinkify Wallace,” Mac says, holding the door. “He theoretically could have wandered around smashing stuff all day.”

“The floor’s been cleaned.” Logan points at a black-stained towel on the rug. “But that was used to wipe up grease, not blood. And footprints criss-cross the room, like Harvey the Rabbit was searching.”

“Why do I smell urine?” Veronica wrinkles her nose. “And why is there a crushed bouquet of flowers on the desk?”

“The phone lines are out,” Mac announces, setting down the handset. “We’re completely cut off. And frankly, I think whatever went down here is long ov…”

A howl in the distance interrupts her mid-sentence; Logan cocks a brow. “You were saying?”

“Jesus, is something rabid out there?” Veronica wonders, shivering. “It sounds like a coyote only…whinier.”

“Maybe we should try the barn,” Logan suggests, taking her hand. “If the phone lines in the house aren’t working, and our friends managed to escape, they’d look for another landline. Shit, that reminds me—I got a call while we were driving.”

Veronica waves him off before he can pull out his cell. “It was Leo,” she says. “I gave him a list of emergency contacts, you two are numbers one and three. Apparently, the military’s at the hospital asking questions--he’s the cop Wei tried to murder.”

Logan tilts his face up to the ceiling. “If I get court-martialed for meddling in top-secret business, I’m gonna be pissed,” he mutters, before leading the way out to Dick’s car.

They drive in silence to the barn, where Logan repeats his kneel-inspect-frown routine and Veronica frets. Eventually, he finishes Grizzly Adams-ing and saunters back to report.

“Motorcycle tracks and large-vehicle treads lead that way.” He points down the service road in the direction of Neptune. “Looks like Weevil left, and whoever dropped you off here gave chase. Size-twelve Vans prints and very small butch boots head towards the woods,” he points in the opposite direction. “My guess is, Dick and a woman. I got him unicorn Vans as a gag Christmas gift, and he wears them twenty-four-seven.”

“Well, at least Dick can tell us where Wallace went,” Veronica says. “I hope. What’s the status on Dad?”

Mac pulls the tracker from her messenger bag. “Stationary. Same direction as our unicorn-loving friend. But question, before we follow…if the woman’s Ruby, can we trust her? Just exactly whose side is she on?”

“Logan’s.” Veronica smirks, poking his side, and he rolls his eyes. “As long as we’re in this guy’s studly company, we’re safe as houses.”

“Did you just suggest using me as a honeypot?” Logan drapes an arm around her shoulders. “So much for romance.”

She grins. “I’ll bet Ruby would be MORE than glad to romance you silly.”

The shriek comes from closer this time, off to their left among the trees. “RONKAAAAAAA!”

“Did that coyote call my NAME?” V disentangles from Logan’s embrace; her hand clenches around the butt of the gun, sending a tingling sensation up her arm. “Could that be WALLACE? Did he lose it and go fully pink, trash the house? Are his feet just way bigger than I remember?”

They all stare at each other, appalled, as this possibility sinks in. Then, in tandem, they turn and run straight towards the screams.

DICK

“Okay, Rubes.” Dick surveys the cell-tower cement house with all the disfavor his euphoric state allows. “If I was a phone that didn’t need a code to dial out, here’s where I’d be--this place HAS to have a switchboard or some shit inside. But that fence is, like, super-tall and topped with razor wire. So basically, we’re hosed.”

“Really, Dick?” Ruby performs an eye roll so massive he’s surprised it doesn’t hurt. “Could you BE more of a wuss? I thought you were some kind of surfing badass.”

“Chhh-yeah,” he scoffs, as she hands him her bag, then goes up the fence like monkey. “This bod’s a finely-tuned machine. ‘S why I don’t want abdominal scars.”

“But scars have MYSTIQUE.” Ruby does some hardcore, upper-fence handstand that makes him suspect she’s taking Pole Cardio with Madison, then vaults lightly over. She lands, rolls, and pops up dusting her hands. “I’ll bet LOGAN’S got TONS of scars.”

“Logan’s got everything ladies want,” Dick calls after her, as she opens the cabin door and disappears inside. “He’s been pulling any girl he smiled at since we were like twelve. I think it’s cause he acts all vulnerable and shit. Turns the wahines into jell-AY.”

She emerges with a pair of bolt cutters, chops the chain in half. “Everybody’s vulnerable, Dick,” she says, swinging the gate wide. “If pressure’s applied to the right spot.”

He follows her into the darkened room, gawking at wall-to-wall machinery performing functions he can’t name. This place has got power at least—lights are blinking and flashing on various gauges—but he sees nothing that looks remotely like a telephone.

Ruby goes to study a wall of…whatever, arms crossed; Dick wanders, trailing a finger through the dust on a table. Something knocks lightly against his leg as he passes and he bends to find a cardboard tube stashed beneath.

“Check it out,” he calls, setting down her purse, as well as his wig, gun and the wine bottle he found again, lying abandoned on the path. Removes the tube’s cap, and unrolls the blueprints inside. Spreading them out on the tabletop, he squints through the dim light to read. “Dude, CALLED it! Those tunnels DO go farther than we thought. It’s like an ant colony down there, all over the freaking property.”

Reaching past his shoulder, Ruby taps a small square upper-left. “We’re here,” she says. “And a branch of catacombs leads straight down from this location. So somewhere in this room, there’s another secret door.”

She rushes off to look; but Dick figures he’s not smart enough, even post-Super-Dope, to solve that particular puzzle, so he keeps studying the map. “Wonder what this room’s for?” he muses, tracing a round underground chamber drawn to scale with the main house. “My guess is, housing whatever they’re shipping, ‘cause it looks huge.”

“Aha!” Ruby crows, as her efforts to shift a red lever cause groaning and creaking. Dick moves to help. Slowly, a section of computer swings aside to reveal stone steps, going down.

“Rubster strikes again.” He high-fives her, grinning at her flushed excitement, then moves to gather his shit.

She rolls her eyes again, just as theatrically, and rummages in her bag. Produces one of those ecologically-conscious grocery sacks, green and labeled ‘Whole Foods’, holds it out. “It can be your man-purse,” she says, with a smirk. “Your murse.”

“You know, you have a LOT of gear and skills for a karaoke impresario, or whatever it is you do for cash,” he observes, filling and shouldering the murse nonetheless.  “It’s kinda hot, but I’m also slightly intimidated.”

“Join the club,” she breezes, donning her own bag, and leads the way, practically skipping, down the stairs.

Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion of our round robin! Check back next Saturday for the second half of Part 27 also written by @cheshirecatstrut!