#like yeah would i dump his ass for acting this foolish? sure

[buckera]

wait, are... are people actually upset with Eddie? as in, actually calling him a bad guy and a villain and such? guys... we really gotta put an age restriction on this fandom i'm so serious

[leighistired]

Out Loud

A Martin character study AO3 Link

“G’night mum, love you.”

“Make sure you put the trash out, don’t want it stinking up the house.”

At 12 it occurs to Martin, he can’t recall the last time his mother said “I love you” to him. She must have. He knows she loves him, so why can’t he remember her saying it? Was it before dad left? It can’t have been that long ago. He knows if he brings it up she’ll just tell him off for being silly so he just decides to not say it unless she says it first. She doesn’t say it.

“Look how nice our neighbor’s garden is,” she says instead. “If only we could have such a nice garden.”

“The neighbors hire a man-” Martin tries to explain. He had just done law maintenance over the weekend; he would have to bring up memory issues next time they saw a doctor.

“Aren’t you happy with how I provide for you?” She snaps. “Ever since your lousy father left us I have done my best even with my health and all you can talk about is getting a bloody gardener.”

“Sorry, mum,” he says. It’s better not to argue when she gets like this.

“Forget it. Just get me my tea.”

He goes and brews her a cup of Oolong tea. It’s far too bitter for his tastes but it’s all he buys when he does the shopping. Perhaps that was it, instead of saying she loved him she just provided for him.

Martin tells himself that until she gets too sick to work and begins needling him to get a job at 14. Suddenly he’s providing for her on top of school and everything else but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She was just sick and the medication she was on made her tired most of the time so it wasn’t like he could expect her to be excited to see him; especially not when he’s the one bringing it to her.

“Is soup the only thing you buy?” She asks one evening when he brings her dinner.

“You didn’t have soup last night,” he reminds her patiently after a long day of school and work.

“Oh, so you think I’m ungrateful? I am your mother! I gave birth to you! You should be happy to take care of me!”

“It would be nice if you acted like a mum for once!” Martin snaps back. He regrets it as soon as he says it and doesn’t wait to hear her response. He leaves the house and sits in the park near his house for a long time and cries. Of course she loves him. It must be so hard on her to be stuck at home all day with no one to talk to and there he went snapping at her. She’s asleep by the time he comes home and neither of them mentions it in the morning.

Martin doesn’t know what he expects when he starts to transition. He hadn’t even called it a transition at first, he just likes how he looks with short hair, baggy clothes, and a sports bra. His mother disagrees. There are days she won’t even look at him and when she does it’s usually even worse.

“You cut your hair again,” she mentions one morning over breakfast. “Just when you were starting to look like a girl.”

“Yup,” Martin replies tight-lipped. He had been thinking it over for a while and he’s slowly coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a girl. The way she says it hits him sharply. If she was never going to say “I love you” to a daughter, why would she say it to a son? He doesn’t bother coming out to her properly because he can already see the disgust on her face when he gets a proper binder.

When she decides to move into a full-time care facility, it’s almost a relief. He feels foolish for expecting her to say it when she leaves. He feels even more foolish when he says it in goodbye. The receptionist gives him a sympathetic look when she doesn’t say it back but the receptionist probably assumes his mother has memory issues and forgot who he was. She doesn’t. Still, he appreciates the gesture.

Dating is nearly impossible for most of his life. It’s easiest to blame his busy schedule; he doesn’t even have time for friends outside of school. The fact that no one even asks him out isn’t something he wants to think about. After he drops out of school and his mother leaves, dating and friendship don’t get any easier. He can’t let anyone he works with get close enough or they’ll find out his real age and utter lack of qualifications. Online dating is also out of the question for similar reasons. If one of his coworkers saw him with the age 19 in his profile they would either know he wasn’t actually 25 or they would think he was a creep and he didn’t exactly feel comfortable lying about his age to potential dates. Meeting people organically isn’t the worst thing in the world but it’s difficult. He makes a few passing friends at a local trans support group but even then, he can’t get close to anyone without risking someone discovering his falsified CV.

He doesn’t have his first real boyfriend until he’s 23 years old. They meet at a Holloween party thrown by a mutual acquaintance and date for almost five months before Martin ruins it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dominick, I love you,” Martin says as he serves dinner.

“Oh, uh, it’s a little fast to say that, don’t you think?” Dominick had stammered awkwardly. Was it? It didn’t seem like it to Martin and even if it was, it was true. He loved Dominick.

“I-I don’t think so,” Martin replies nervously. Some distant part of himself starts to berate him for being so needy.

“It kind of is. Let’s just pretend you never said it and we’ll see how we feel in a few more months, ok?”

“You mean we’ll see how you feel,” Martin says a little bitterly.

“Why can’t you just relax and enjoy the holiday?”

Martin had sighed in resignation and picked at the rest of his plate. They broke up a week later because Dominick felt like they were “looking for different things.”

Martin doesn’t have another serious boyfriend after that. He goes on a few more dates over the years but nothing that lasts longer than five months. Nothing that lasts long enough to say “I love you.” In some deep dark part of him, he wonders if he was ever meant for love. His father hadn’t loved him enough to stay, his mother hadn’t said she loved him in over a decade, and he’s not even sure he was in love with Dominick. He gets crushes, sure, but he just throws himself into his work at the Magnus Institute instead.

Working in the library isn’t bad. He gets along with his coworkers well enough but he can never get close to them. Not close enough to love them as friends or be loved in return.

Then he gets transferred to the Archives.

Jonathan Sims is not the first asshole boss Martin has ever had. He doesn’t understand why Mr. Bouchard sent him down to work in the Archive in the first place and his first impression with his new boss is less than stellar when a dog follows him into the building. It doesn’t help that Jon is good-looking and every once in a while Martin catches glimpses of a version of the Archivist without a stick up his ass. Like when he spends Martin’s ice cream birthday talking about emulsifiers. If only he would be clearer about what he actually wants from Martin. No report or follow-up seems to be good enough, even with the help of Tim and Sasha.

Martin works hard for Jon’s approval. He doesn’t know why he wants the recognition but it’s either this or quit and he really, really can’t quit. So he spends three full days looking for every woman named Angela over fifty in Bexley only to be berated for actually talking to one of them and then he offers to look into a case about spiders that clearly upsets Jon only to get trapped in his flat by a zombie worm woman.

When he finally escapes, he takes a few worm corpses with him and he dumps them on Jon’s desk while he’s in the middle of a statement. Let Jon try and disprove that When he gives his own statement he makes special emphasis on reminding Jon how hard he worked to meet his exacting standards. He refuses to be yelled at for this.

Except Jon believes him. More than believes him, in fact. He offers Martin a place to stay. Of course that would be enough to ignite a crush in Martin.

As soon as they get to document storage Martin sits on the cot and begins to cry with exhaustion. He expects Jon to leave but again he surprises him.

“I-it’s alright, Martin,” he says awkwardly as he pats Martin’s shoulder. “You’ll be safe here and I’m certain Elias will respond promptly to my request for extra security.”

“Thanks,” Martin sniffs. He can’t remember the last time he cried in front of another person.

“Would...would you like me to stay until you fall asleep? If- if you think it will help.”

“Oh, er...no...I’ll be fine, thank you. You should be getting home, anyway. It’s Saturday, Jon.”

Martin blacks out as soon as Jon shuts the door to document storage. When he wakes up he finds his crush on Jon stubbornly still in place.

He can’t help himself after that. He starts taking special care of Jon in hopes of encouraging the kind man he saw that night into emerging. At the very least Jon doesn’t yell at him as much and he even thanks Martin for the tea he brings. It’s then that he notices other things about Jon, like how rattled he gets by certain statements and how he’ll often go an entire day without eating or drinking anything unless someone brings him something. That someone being Martin. He also notices how late Jon leaves, if he leaves at all.

It’s on one such night of Jon still being in his office at 11 o’clock that Martin knocks on Jon’s office door.

“Jon?” He calls gently.

“Hzzmt! Martin?” Jon responds, having been startled awake from dozing at his desk. “You should be asleep.”

“And you should be home.”

“I see your point,” Jon sighs. “I’ll finish up here and head home. Unless you need something?”

“Actually….I-I was thinking,” Martin beings. “Since I sort of kicked you off your cot...D’you want to come back to document storage with me? You know, get some sleep?”

“What?”

“Er...forget I-”

“The cot would be rather cramped with both of us,” Jon warns as he gets up from his desk. “If...if you’re sure you want me to join you.”

“Yeah...I thought you had work to do?”

“It can wait until morning, no use keeping you up longer than necessary.”

Martin only half regrets offering to share a bed with his crush. Jon was right, the only way to fit both of them on the cot is for both of them to sleep on their sides (or for Jon to sleep on top of Martin but even the thought has his face burning) and it’s difficult for him to fall asleep with Jon’s back pressed against his. It’s good to hear Jon fall asleep, though, and as time wears on it’s easier for Martin to goad Jon away from work to sleep a few hours.

The more of himself Jon reveals the harder Martin falls for him. Especially after Jon accuses him of being a ghost during the Prentiss attack. Even with the guilt Martin feels every time he looks at Jon mummified in bandages. That was Martin’s fault. If he had just paid more attention then he wouldn’t have lost Jon and Tim in the tunnels. He does everything he can to try and make up for it; despite Jon becoming more and more closed off by the day. Intellectually, Martin knows that Jon has gotten like that with everyone, but something deep down makes Martin feel like it’s his fault Jon’s gotten so cold. It doesn’t help that Jon seems to have gotten friendly with the policewoman investigating the murder of the previous Archivist. Tim even seems to think they’re having an affair which does wonders for Martin’s self-esteem. Jon wouldn’t be the first straight man Martin has ever had a crush on but Martin was pretty sure Jon wasn’t straight. Again, he wonders if he’s done something wrong to push Jon away.

After Jon stumbles out of his office covered in blood claiming to have had an accident with a bread knife Martin finds all the excuse he needs to regularly drag Jon to the canteen to make sure he eats something. The silences during those lunches are hard. They had eaten together before but now Jon wasn’t talking to him. The most Martin could get out of him were a few one-word answers. He tries not to think about how it reminds him of his mum.

“So,” he tries for the millionth time while Jon picks at his sandwich. “Did I tell you what happened while you were at physical therapy the other day?”

Jon doesn’t say anything but he looks up with a gaze that bores into Martin.

“Uh...A little girl came in alone with a statement, she must’ve only been eight years old,” Martin says. Jon looks at him with an expression that almost seems afraid. “Don’t worry, it recorded fine on digital. She walked right down into the Archive, walked up to my desk, and said ‘Excuse me. My name is Beatrice Walker and I’d like to make a statement about a supernatural occurrence.’ She sounded so grown up and she refused to leave until I had recorded her statement. Turns out her dad was using the library for research and she had just wandered off.”

“What was her statement about?” Jon asks to Martin’s surprise.

“Oh, a hamster with mysteriously changing spots.”

“Ah,” Jon replies thoughtfully. “Not much need for follow-up there, I suppose.”

“Not unless you really need me to track down the shop where her parents picked up the new hamster.”

He catches the briefest of smirks from Jon before the conversation dies again.

After that Jon’s coldness and paranoia comes out in the form of a screaming accusation over letters Jon found in the trash. Martin barely manages to make it to the bathroom before he bursts into tears after coming clean about his CV. Tim thankfully doesn’t check on him while he silently curses his taste in men. Jon doesn’t meet his eye for the next week in what he bitterly hopes is guilt. He does seem slightly more willing to talk with Martin at lunch, though.

Then Jon goes missing. After trying to get Martin and Tim to go home early because Jon was feeling under the weather; he disappears. Not before apparently bludgeoning someone with a pipe and isn’t that exactly what he and Tim need to see as soon as they get back from a two-week kidnapping by a spooky door monster?

With Sasha gone, Jon missing, and Melanie King being suddenly hired by Elias, whatever’s left of Martin’s relationship with Tim deteriorates. More so when Martin becomes the only one in the world to believe Jon could be innocent. It’s probably that that makes the police detective “investigating” Jon so actively hostile toward him. Apparently, people say he and Jon are “close” and that probably only means the lunch thing but he wants to imagine it’s something more. Like people are somehow picking up that Jon likes him back.

When Jon comes back to confront Elias it’s all Martin can think to do to fall back on his tea-making. He ducks into Jon’s office with a piping cup of the overly sweet tea he spent months perfecting to Jon’s taste and finds him with his face buried in his one non-bandaged hand.

“Jon?” He calls as gently as he can while he closes the door behind him. “I brought you some tea.”

It’s when Jon looks up that Martin notices the bloody mess down the front of his shirt.

“You’re hurt. Let me go get the first aid-”

“No!” Jon interrupts frantically. “Just...Could you just stay with me for a moment?”

Martin acquiesces and they sit side by side on the sofa in Jon’s office in silence until Jon starts sniffling into his tea. He offers Jon a hug and Jon all but dives into his chest to cry. It’s the saddest most broken thing Martin has ever heard and it’s all he can do not to pull Jon into his lap and curl around him protectively.

“Martin...I-I...I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For everything. For Sasha and Prentiss and...and for the way I treated you. You didn’t….no one deserves that.”

“None of that was your fault and I sort of deserved it. I didn’t actually know what I was doing.”

“You didn’t deserve it,” Jon insists before going back to quietly crying into Martin’s jumper. Martin doesn’t respond. He can’t recall the last time someone’s apologized to him. At least not like that. He’d been told off most of his life for not doing things up to people’s standards. A few people over the years had told him he didn’t deserve it but Jon was the first person to apologize. No wonder Martin was falling in love with him.

Damn it.

Cuddling doesn’t become a regular occurrence for them by any means but Jon begins doing more to seek Martin out after that. They eat lunch together more often and Martin stays up late to talk to Jon while he’s abroad. It drives home how deeply buried into Martin’s heart Jon has become. Especially after he comes back after going missing for a month and has the audacity to joke about being moisturized by a clown mannequin for a month.

He wonders if Jon feels the same way. Sometimes Jon will smile shyly at him, and he can almost believe that Jon would be interested in a relationship if the world wasn’t ending. The last time they speak before the Unknowing they’re in document storage.

“Are you ready?” Jon asks as he shifts nervously.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Martin signs. He heard what happened to Melanie. He knows what’s likely to happen to him. Some small part of him is screaming to just tell Jon his feelings like it’s the climax of an action movie.

“Stay safe,” Jon says.

“Come back,” Martin replies. Jon offers him a hug. It’s no movie kiss but it allows Martin to hold Jon as close as possible. Jon himself is hanging off of Martin’s neck and it feels like a final goodbye.

Then Elias confirms what Martin has always suspected deep down. That his mother never loved him or if there was a time when she did, she stopped when his father left. Even after everything. After he spent years taking care of her. After he had to quit school to care for her. All she ever saw was his father. All his transition did was to remind her further of how much he looked like his father’s son. At least it was worth it. To distract Elias so Melanie could find evidence to arrest him.

Then Peter Lukas shows up and reveals that Elias planned to get arrested. Worse than that, he offers Martin a promotion of sorts.

Then they get the news from Yarmouth. Tim’s body is found in a charred heap, Daisy is missing, and Jon is dead in all but brain activity. At least Basira is physically alive.

Martin spends as much time as he can next to Jon. He’s used to loving someone who can’t love him back. Maybe this is all he’s destined for. Love unrequited. He talks to Jon’s dreaming corpse. Tells him about his day, reads him poetry, even a statement, but nothing draws Jon out of his coma.

Then his mother dies. He barely has the emotional strength to mourn her. Instead, he scatters her ashes and mourns his childhood lost to trying impossibly to earn her love.

After the Flesh attacks, Martin makes a decision. He’ll join Lukas. It’ll probably lead to his death but what did that matter? His mother was gone and didn’t care about him anyway. Tim and Sasha were gone. Jon was basically gone. Basira and Melanie were the only people left that he vaguely cared about and by doing this he could at least protect them.

He visits Jon one last time in the hospital. He’s still covered in wires and his eyes still flit around violently behind his lids as Martin sits down next to him and takes his hand.

“Hey Jon,” he says quietly. “I...This is the last time I’m going to see you...Probably ever. I know, I know old dramatic Martin surely he’s exaggerating. I’m not. The Institute is in danger and...I have a way to keep Melanie and Basira a little safer, so I’m doing it. I just came by one last time to say...Jon, I...I love you. Goodbye.”

He gets up and presses a kiss on a part of Jon’s forehead not covered in wires before leaving. It’s alright that he doesn’t say it back. No one ever says it back to Martin.

When Jon wakes up everything becomes that much harder. Suddenly he had a reason to live and the way Jon pursues him makes him almost believe...No, even completing the thought would be dangerous for all of them. Jon trusts him enough not to be constantly badgering and that makes it worse. When Jon is there the Lonely makes Martin resent his presence and when Jon’s gone Martin resents his absence.

The final, most excruciating pain is when Jon comes after him in the Lonely. He’s excepted his fate in the chilling numbness of the Lonely. Maybe that’s why he says it. The certain, inevitable rejection would be numbed utterly. So he says it.

“I really loved you, you know?”

And Jon looks broken. Even after he rips Peter’s statement from him. Even when he reaches for Martin’s face with hands that seem far too warm and makes him See. Knowing Jon loves him isn’t like “knowing” his mother loves him. Instead of a lie born in Martin’s mind to stamp down the fear of rejection, it’s a reality pouring from Jon’s mind mingled with Jon’s fears of rejection.

Jon’s hands still feel too warm compared to the icy chill of the Lonely as he leads Martin out. Still, he refuses to let go all the way through the tunnels, the Institute, talking to Basira, packing at each other’s flats, and on to the train. The way to Daisy’s safe house feels like a blur and when they finally arrive it’s all Martin can do to remember to take off his binder before collapsing into bed with Jon’s warm arms around him.

He wakes to Jon’s quiet crying. The awful, stifled thing that breaks Martin’s heart.

“Jon,” he whispers.

“Martin? Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“It’s alright, Jon,” he assures as he swaps their positions so Jon is tucked firmly against him. Jon makes another broken noise and Martin can’t stop himself from crying, too.

“I-I’m here, Martin. You aren’t on your own,” Jon soothes and Martin almost has to laugh. They lay crying and comforting each other until they both fall back asleep.

When they wake up properly they take stock of the safe house’s pantry and make a list of things to pick up in the village after breakfast. Martin gives in to the temptation to buy a new notebook to try and write poetry in. They have enough canned food to survive to the next ice age so they pick up perishable items like milk, bread, butter, and eggs. Jon also picks up fresh peaches and a box of Martin’s preferred tea. It’s easy to pretend like they going on a normal shopping trip as they walk up and down the aisles to check things off their list.

They return to the cabin and settle in. Martin sits on the sofa and tries to write out a poem while Jon tries to read a book from Daisy’s personal collection. After a while, Martin beings to feel Jon’s gaze on him.

“Is there something on my face?” He tries casually as he’s met with an expression he’s never been on the receiving end of.

“I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Jon sighs. Martin can’t stop the noise that comes out of him. All his life trying to earn love and Jon just says it while Martin’s thinking of a synonym for ‘yellow.’

“I-I don’t expect you to reciprocate,” Jon says quickly, his soft expression suddenly turning worried.

“But I do.”

“Oh…Oh!”

“Yeah.”

Jon starts giggling and it’s impossible for Martin not to follow suit until happy tears stream down both of their faces.

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: Okay this is a big one, I wrote this over the course of like 3 days I think? Anyway I hope you like it because it's probably the longest chapter I've ever written for one of my stories <3

Chapter One

It was just five in the morning when Adaline Miller woke up. Her head still a little groggy from a decent night’s sleep and her fading dreams. She turned to see Joel still asleep beside her; his gentle snores muffled into his pillow. She smiled and leaned over kissing his bare shoulder before rolling out of bed to get ready for her day.

Stepping downstairs towards the kitchen, Ada realised just how cold it was when she noticed how frosted over the windows had become overnight. Ada hated winter. It was her least favourite season. After everything that had happened almost five years ago it wasn’t hard to understand why. Even now she still sometimes had nightmares about it.

Waking up to find Joel cold in his bed; his stomach wound torn open. Blood everywhere. Or finding Ellie beaten and bruised, left alone in that burned out restaurant.

Joel had always been there to console her, holding her until she calmed down. His voice low to just a whisper as he told her everything was okay. She was safe. He was there and he wasn’t ever going to leave.

It was a comfort she appreciated even after being married to the man for just under four years.

Stepping through into the kitchen, the brunette quickly got to work preparing some eggs on the stove for breakfast before moving across the counter to make up a pot of coffee for herself and Joel. She still wasn’t totally sure what her husband had traded for the beans; but Joel had seemed rather embarrassed by it for some reason. Though after finally getting to taste coffee again after so long, she didn’t much care she supposed. After the hot water was boiled she poured the beverage out, setting aside Joel’s favourite owl mug for when he came down.

Joel had always been an early riser and more often than not, he was almost always the one that beat her to the kitchen in the morning. It had taken some time after settling in Jackson to actually get the man to finally relax a little. It was unfortunate for Ada that he had taken that to mean ‘no sleeping in past seven’. Even on days off, Joel was up before the sun. Lucky Ada had found her own ways to at least keep him in bed past seven on those days; sleeping or otherwise. Thankfully Joel never complained.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the creaking of the stairs as Ada glanced up to meet eyes with Joel. His arms stretched above his head and suppressing a yawn. He stepped through the door, his hand dropping to scratch at his bearded chin.

“Morning darlin’.” Joel slurred, heading straight for his coffee mug. “Hold on...why are you dressed already?” Ada questioned. Her egg covered spoon gesturing at him in his winter gear. Joel followed her gaze, his brows raised in confusion. “I thought you weren’t on patrol until this afternoon.” She clarified.

“Oh yeah...forgot to tell you last night. Change of plans. Tommy’s gotten word of a horde gathering near the ski lodge.” He explained between sips, leaning against the counter, crossing one foot over the over. “Reckon we needed to deal with it quickly before it gets to be a problem.”

Ada pouted but said nothing, her gaze turning from Joel back to her scrambled eggs on the stove. Joel sighed abandoning his mug on the side as he moved across towards her. His arms wrapping around her waist and resting his chin over her shoulder.

“I can hear you thinking.” He said lowly into her ear. But again Ada said nothing. He sighs moving to kiss her neck but she turns her head away as he does.

He hates this. He hates when she worries. It’s always the same routine when he heads out for clean up duty. Clearing out infected is never an easy job but it is what keeps Jackson safe. They both know that. But still whenever he’s due to leave for another job, Ada goes quiet. She’s distant and he fucking hates it.

It was the same when Ellie first asked to train for patrol, they’d been reluctant. And while they were both well aware of Ellie’s skills and her strength; it was still hard watching their baby girl in such a hurry to go out alone without them.

His arms around her waist squeeze gently as he pulls her close to his chest, his head over her shoulder stealing a kiss on her cheek.

“Baby please stop worrying, I’ll be fine.” He knew it was a foolish thing to promise because the world they lived in wasn’t safe. You never knew what the next day would bring. But if there was anything in this world Joel would find to fight for; it was coming home to his wife. His family.

Ada dumped the cooked eggs onto the plates laid out, they were a little burned on the edges. She hadn’t been paying that much attention to them if she was honest. Then turned in her husband’s arms to face him.

“Back by dinner or I kick your ass.” She warned playfully. “Deal.” He chuckled, pulling her close as their lips met in a kiss.

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

It didn’t take long for Ada to get to the stables when she’d finished breakfast. After reluctantly pulling herself from Joel’s arms; they’d both parted ways as the older man went to meet his brother at the gate.

She’d quickly threw herself into her list of jobs for the day, hoping it would take her mind off her worry.

“Morning Max.” She smiled at the stable hand, walking through to the back room. “Mornin’ Ada, whadda we got today?” he grinned in reply, his frame leaning through the door as she tidied her workspace. Collecting all her notes and paperwork together.

“Well Daisy has been lame for a couple days so she needs to stay on box rest. Then I need King and Blue tacked up before noon.” She explained, her eyes never leaving the sheets of paper in her hand. “Bob and Maggie are headed out on patrol so they need them ready before half twelve.”

“You got it boss!” Max assured with a joyful grin, sending her a mock salute. She chuckled at the old man as he disappeared from the doorway, but she quickly caught up to him, catching herself on the wooden frame.

“Oh! Could you also take Barnaby out into the paddock this morning please? He had a touch of colic yesterday and I want to keep his gut moving to make sure it’s passed.” She explained. Max simply nodded and turned to make a start on his duties. Ada always liked Max. He was an older gentleman, around seventy years old but still incredibly fit for his age. He’d arrived in Jackson a few years after herself, Ellie and Joel. Along with his grandsons from somewhere near Montana. Having the experience of running his own ranch before the Outbreak; he’d been the perfect fit to help Ada run the stables and take care of the horses.

She continued through until around nine o’ clock, just making the finishing touches to the poultice she’d wrapped around the gelding’s leg she was treating. “There ya go buddy.” She cooed sweetly, giving the horse a soft scratch behind the ears as he nickered in reply.

“Morning Ada!” A familiar voice greeted as the brunette moved to close the stable door closed behind her. “Morning Dina, you out on patrol this morning?”

“Yep, heading out on the creek trails with Ellie.” She smiled, Ada quickly returning it as they both looked to Ellie walking through the door. “How’s my boy?” Dina asked, grabbing Ada’s attention once again.

“Oh he’s fine, Japan had a little mud fever but I think we got it under control now. He’s good to go. All tacked up for you with Max down there.” Dina gave her a quick thumbs up and threw a thanks over her shoulder as she ran down towards the back of the barn. Leaving the woman alone with her adoptive daughter who slowly trailed behind.

“Good morning sunshine. How are you feeling this morning?” She teased. Ellie rolled her eyes at her mother’s smirk.

“Oh jeez don’t. I already got half the town giving me weird looks.” She whined. After the dance the night before, her kiss with Dina, Seth drunk and aggressively harassing the girls; it had certainly been the talk of the town the following morning. Ellie was just hoping she could outlive the embarrassment.

“So you and Dina patrolling together huh? That should be interesting. Have you talked to her yet?” “Ugh mom stop!” Ellie hissed softly, her lips twitching into a subtle smile.

“What? I like her, she’s a sweet girl. You two would be so cute together.” The teen stifled a giggle as she playfully shoved her mom’s shoulder, the older woman chuckling in return. “Shut up.”

The laughter faded when Ada sighed in thought, Ellie glancing back knowing what was coming next. Her gaze immediately falling to her feet.

“You uh...you talk to Joel yet?” She asked cautiously. For the past two years; it had been a sore subject for Ellie whenever Ada brought Joel up in conversations. After finding out the truth back in Salt Lake; she’d been so angry at both of them for everything they had kept from her. But after learning that Joel had been the one that pulled the trigger. That one that had made that decision for all of them and acted alone, she’d declared she wanted nothing more to do with him. And while it had been hard for Ada to be stuck in the middle; she’d still tried her damn hardest to build a bridge between them.

“A little...but one conversation isn’t going to fix everything.” She mumbled. Her foot kicking at the mud covered floor, eyes never leaving the ground.

“It’s a start though. Baby he really misses you.” she said. “I know. I still don’t know if I can forgive him for what he did though. But I am willing to try.” Ellie said softly, her hands now pulling at her jacket sleeves. “I uh...I was thinking of maybe inviting him over for a movie night tomorrow. If that’s okay?”

Ada smiled at this. It had been hard with Ellie not speaking to Joel for so long, watching the man she loved struggle with losing a daughter that no longer wanted anything to do with him. It was obvious he was hurting even if he never said the words out loud. He missed Ellie, he’d be so grateful to hear she wanted to do movie night again, for the first time in so long.

“Of course it is. When you get back from patrol we’ll figure something out okay? Joel’s out with Tommy but he should be back by dinner.”

Ellie simply nodded with a timid smile before turning towards Max waiting with Shimmer.

“Hang on, gotcha some lunch. I still worry you ain’t eating enough.” Ada shouted after her, reaching into her backpack to hand her daughter the pack of food she’d prepared.

“Thank you!” Dina called before Ellie had the chance to reply, swiping the pack out of Ada’s hand. “Hey! She said my lunch!” Ellie poked in jest. The teen simply scoffed peaking through the bag to see what was inside. “Our lunch...there’s plenty for both of us. Let’s see; turkey sandwiches, nice.” Dina continued snooping through the pack while Ellie merely rolled her eyes as Ada stood with folded arms smirking at the two. They really were cute together.

“Oh shit! No way, Ellie there’s cookies in here! Awesome! Thanks Ada!”

Ada laughed at Dina’s joy as Ellie reluctantly followed behind, snatching the packed lunch back and stuffing it into her bag before Dina could complain.

“Ugh I haven’t had cookies since I was a kid. I fucking love your mom, she’s just the best.” Dina complimented as she mounted Japan, taking the reins and walking the gelding out into the snow, Ellie not far behind on Shimmer. The young girl turned back to take one last glance at her mother brushing down another horse, a smile lighting up her face.

“Yeah, yeah she is.” Ellie agreed.

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

After such an early start, Ada was pleased when the day was beginning to draw to an end. She’d not stopped the whole day and she was tired.

When the time came to feed and bed down the horses for the night, she was more than ready to head home, eat dinner, maybe snuggle up to Joel on the couch to watch a movie and call it a day. She’d already sent Max home to his boys when she finished up the last of her routine checks to close up the barn; when she’d been ambushed by both Jesse and Dina.

They both looked terrified, Dina with tear stained cheeks and Jesse breathless and shell shocked like he’d just run for miles without taking a second to breathe.

The brunette couldn’t remember much of what was said when they’d bombarded her with information. Only that something bad had happened and it had happened to Joel.

A thousand thoughts had rushed through her head at once. A flash of images muddled with the white noise that squealed in her ears the closer she ran towards the infirmary. Her nightmare was coming true and she felt like she was drowning. Lost in a dark ocean of uncertainty, falling without a lifeline to hold on to.

When she burst through the doors, Tommy was the first to reach her. She winced aghast at seeing his injuries. His swollen black eye, the deep bloodied gash on his forehead. She felt numb as her brother in law explained what had happened. What those bastards had done to her husband. Shot and beaten mercilessly. Her heart ached, her eyes raw from the tears she’d cried. And what made the whole thing worse, was that Ellie had been there to see the whole thing.

Ada had tried to brace herself before stepping into Joel’s room, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. Ellie was sat slumped over his bedside, her hand clinging to his as he lay unconscious. The scuff of her mother’s boots grabbing her attention as she rose to her feet and met her halfway when Ada rushed towards her with open arms.

“Mom!” Ellie whimpered and it reminded her all too much of that night all those years ago. Ada squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled Ellie closer, her heart beating in her ears.

“Oh baby girl.” She soothed, her hand gently stroking her back for comfort. “I tried…” Ellie hiccuped. “I tried to stop them. I begged them to stop but they wouldn’t listen. And I told Joel to get up, just fucking get up.” Her voice broke as the girl choked back another sob and Ada couldn’t help her own tears as she listened silently. Gently guiding Ellie back to Joel’s bedside so she could sit, all the while the mother never once letting go of her daughter.

“I told him to get up, but it was like he’d just given up.” She explained quietly. Her shaking hands reaching up to wipe at her sore bloodshot eyes. Her cheeks and nose reddened from her tears. “The doctor said he needs to be asleep for a while, something about something needing time to settle?! I don’t fucking know!” She shouted in frustration, almost collapsing from exhaustion in her chair.

Ada merely nodded solemnly. Tommy had partly explained before she’d rushed to Joel. The doctor had insisted on keeping Joel sedated to give the brain time to heal itself while the swelling subsides. Ada just hoped it wouldn’t take too long for him before he was able to wake up.

As the night drew on Ellie had finally given in to her fatigue, stretching on the old beat up couch in the corner of the room. Tommy had thoughtfully brought her a blanket and a bag of clothes for the girls before heading home himself, Ada swearing that she would send Ellie the second they had any news on his brother.

It wasn’t until then that Ada had the still and the silence of the night did she truly take in Joel’s injuries. His leg, broken and mangled. It had been a damn miracle that they’d even be able to save it. But there had been a reasonable amount of confidence it would eventually heal, though Joel would definitely have some difficulty getting around at first and most likely a permanent limp afterwards; he was damn lucky in that respect.

His head injuries however were a different story. There were still flecks of dried blood in patches of his dark head where the club had struck. Patches of hair cut away, close to the scalp in order to reach the violent blows into his crown. Deep cuts and dark bruises covered his handsome face. A good chunk of his ear was missing, she’d noticed as she softly brushed her fingers through his hair in a feeble attempt to clean him up. It had been treated and neatly stitched but would most likely leave a scar.

Her lips trembled as a quiet sob worked its way up into her throat, her eyes blurred from the welling tears the longer she looked at him.

She should have been there...Why hadn’t she been there?!

The days went by and Joel still hadn’t woken up. The doctor took him off sedation a few days after the attack, in the hopes he would come around on his own. The endless nights slowly dragging by, each holding with it a suffocating pause that felt to be drawing out longer and longer. Like the string of a bow, pulling tighter and tighter until it was closely reaching its breaking point, a moment of holding strong until it was too much to bear.

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

It had been exactly nine days later when Joel eyelids flickered. His fingers twitched and convulsed as he finally began to regain consciousness.

A string of mumbles and panicked gasps uttered from his dry lips as he stirred awake. And Ellie and Ada were right there beside him. The young girl skidding on her heel as she took off through the door in order to grab Tommy.

“Joel? Can you hear me?” Ada asked delicately. Her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Tentatively reaching out to place her hand upon his as he moved to face her with squinted eyes.

“Wher...Where?” He tried to speak. His voice low and rough like gravel. It strained against his dry throat. Ada quickly moving to his bedside to help him drink from the glass of water placed beside him.

He winced but managed a few mouthfuls before lowering himself back down against his pillow. His tired eyes darted around the room, breath quickening and short the more the confusion set in as to how he’d ended up there.

“You're in the infirmary. You were out with Tommy and were attacked.” Ada explained carefully, Joel’s eyes drifting back towards her sat by his bedside. “Was anyone else hurt?” He asked. “Tommy got roughed up a little, bump on the head and a black eye. Couple of bruised ribs but he’ll be fine.”

Joel simply nodded at the information. His eyes never leaving Ada.

“Is Sarah okay? I assume she’s with Tommy, could you call her? Tell her I’m okay…” He spoke so casually, Ada almost didn’t hear what he’d said. But yet there was no change in his eyes as he asked the question. “How long do you reckon till I can head home?”

This question made Ada stop cold. Her heart slowing and her breath catching in her throat.

“Joel... do you know who I am?”

He looked at her like she was crazy, the confusion met in the touching of his dark brows creasing with his forehead. “Yeah, you’re my doctor.”

It was at that moment Ada almost collapsed. When she realised there was truly no hint of recognition in Joel’s eyes as he stared at her.

Her worst fear realised; her own husband saw her as a stranger.

[camomills]

Title: Old Souls Relationships: Sinon/Lisbeth; Sinon & Agil Fandom: Sword Art Online Word Count: 1767 Summary: Sinon realizes she is allowing others to become closer to her, and that scares her. A conversation with an older friend might help assuage her fears. Notes: Made for SAO Pride Week 2020 - Day 1: Small Steps. This is a reworked draft from last year's SAO Pride Week that I turned into some Sinon/Lisbeth, mostly Sinon-centric. I also just really wanted to do something with Agil because I think he's a fun character, and I personally think his wise demeanor makes him a nice character to bounce off the younger cast.Thanks to redbluezero for beta reading!

AO3 Link

-

The smell of coffee has always been one of Shino’s favorites. It reminds her of rainy days spent in the company of a book in her favorite bookshop, staring mindlessly at the steam as she waited until her drink cooled. It’s no wonder Dicey Café became one of her dearest places.

“Here’s your order!”

The company might have something to do with it, too.

“This one’s on the house,” Rika declares as she sets the cup on the counter, then winks.

From behind her, she hears someone clear their throat.

She slowly turns to meet Agil’s gaze, and sure enough, he’s scowling at her. The grip on the glass he’s drying has turned vice-like.

“That one’s on your salary.”

“Agil, c’mon! Let me be cool!”

They bicker for a short minute, Rika being cheeky whereas Agil is composed. The tone of the discussion is more akin to foolish banter between friends than a squabble between a boss and his employee, so Shino allows herself to laugh at it. 

Rika’s shift soon ends and she heads to the ladies’ room to change. As per usual these days, Shino waits for her so they can keep company to one another on the train ride back home. 

*

Yesterday’s commute was much like any other.

The train car shook and rattled against the steel and gravel tracks as the whirls of metal and the passengers’ chatter filled the compartment. The two girls partook in idle chatter, holding onto the same metal pole to keep their balance inside the box car. Shino’s proximity to Rika allowed the girl to filter the blacksmith’s words through the fog of sound.

Shino’s hands scraped against Rika’s on each stop. 

“So, so,” Rika continued telling excitedly, “he destroyed the best sword in my shop! My masterpiece, turned to smithereens.”

Shino let out a horrified gasp in jest.

“Oh, my. I lost my dear Hecate’s scope trying to help him out in BoB. I wonder if we’re liable for some sort of compensation?”

The two nodded in tandem over their two-person class-action lawsuit plans. They broke the comical act when the train stopped at the next station a bit too roughly, bumping them into each other. They couldn’t contain their chuckles at their own silliness.

“Ah, next one’s my stop,” Rika announced.

Shino knew. They’d been sharing this commute for a while. 

“I’ll be seeing you then. Until next time, Rika.”

Shino expected Rika to leave as the train doors opened, but she approached Shino instead. Rika’s arms bundled around Shino’s frame.

It’s a moment that allowed Shino to take note of a small list of Rika Things. Rika is only taller than her by a few inches, but it’s enough that it allowed her chin to rest on Rika’s shoulder slightly. The fake fur on Rika’s coat bristled against Shino’s nose, gentle and irritating— much like Rika herself, she thought. The pressure at the shorter girl’s back where Rika’s slender fingers intertwined was rough, yet fond.

A wave of warmth radiated through Shino’s body. She weakly squeezed Rika back.

“Until next time!” Rika said as she uncoiled her arms from around the other girl. 

She beamed at Shino before hopping through the train doors, waving as she exited at the station. 

That was the first time Rika had ever hugged her. 

Shino’s body wanted to feel elated, but her brain didn’t allow it; the affection in Rika’s gesture got muddled in her spiral of guilty thoughts. Since when did she allow people to get so close? 

Since when did I let myself want that?

The rest of her commute was spent staring out the cart’s window, hoping that the train’s AC would manage to cool down her emotions before long.

**

As the bathroom door slams shut, Agil rests his arms on the counter and leans against it, a hand sitting upon his bald head.

“Can you believe her? I offered her this part-time job because I knew it’d help her with college, but...” He throws his hands out, his fondness for Lis peeking through a smile fighting his scowl. “You know?”

Mm-hmm, Shino nods empathically, as she’s wont to do with Agil. The company that lures her in here, of course, includes both of the bartenders.

She had grown to care for all of her new friends, but she was caught by surprise at how much she related to Agil, of all people. He is the oldest in their merry band of players, by far, and despite that– no, because of that, they got along.

People her age, throughout most of her experience, were uncaring at best and cruel at worst. The adults around her, dry as they could be, served as the closest to good company she had growing up. There’s a bitter taste in her mouth as Shino realizes she’s grown more proficient in talking to adults due to the past cruelty of all the people her age in her life up until very recently. Thankfully, it’s easy enough to wash it down with the sweetness of the cappuccino Rika had mischievously handed her.

Agil, on the other hand, appreciates having a regular other than Asuna with whom he could default to intellectual conversation and wouldn’t call his establishment, ‘a dump’. How did Kirito manage to rope even Silica into it?

As their conversation strays away from Lisbeth’s demeanor, they fall to their more usual topics: Shino asks about how he manages to do latte art so perfectly every time and he asks if she finally reached the fourth chapter of the book he lent to her a couple of days ago. One “final” plea for him to try out Gun Gale, and his unacceptable excuse that he doesn’t have the time.

Mundane topics like that are their speed, but for once,  Shino has something less mundane in her mind. There’s something in that space, with the gentle ambiance music and the calming presence of a wiser friend, that brings her to feel that Agil is the right person, at that time, for those thoughts.

“I think I like Lis,” she professes like a secret she wished wasn’t true. It doesn’t seem to be the meat of what she has to say, judging from the way her jaw clenches.

Agil simply hums. He’d rather talk about latte art.

“Yeah, I figured. I mean, you really started coming here more often once she started working here.” 

He laughs, a wry, good-natured sound, hard to define between his fondness for the girls and his apathy for the topic.

“I mean… yes. But that’s not the point. How do I…”

 Shino gulps. Her gaze turns to the counter in front of her, where her hands lie. She fiddles with her fingers, watching as her thumbs graze each other through their rotations; staring at them without thinking about the words she’s about to say, are the only way she manages to go through it.

“I guess…  I don’t know if I remember how to be around people. Or if it’s... right, for me to be around people?”

She remembers what those hands did; the cold of steel and the heat of gunfire, the maroon of splattered blood and the gray of post office tiles.

Is it okay for a broken person like me…?

Agil would be lying if he said he’s particularly interested in involving himself in the romantic squabbles of teenagers. The other aspect of her plea, though, is something he’s unfortunately familiar with. He ponders, his face a mix of sagely and worried, as the soft thudding of her trembling hands are barely drowned out by the bar’s blues music.

“I was worried, too, back when I had to come back to my life after SAO.”

Shino raises her gaze to Agil’s eyes. 

“I mean, it's not the same thing, but… it’s hard being around people who judge you for what you went through, and trying to make connections when everyone thinks you’re screwed in the head is a pain in the ass. ‘The game where those freaks killed each other.’ ‘The murderer girl’.”

Agil knows what Shino did. Shino told all of them, eventually. 

“But everyone who spent those two years in the flying castle went through a lot of things they shouldn't have had to, and probably did some things they regret. To others. To themselves. I did, Kirito and Asuna did, and so did Rika. We talk about it…” 

His eyes turn to the ladies’ room’s door, where Rika is changing. He decides her past is not his to divulge.

“Uh. I guess all I’m trying to say is that you’re friends with people who get it, because none of us are sure it’ll ever be okay with people. So, we just stick together. I doubt Rika minds… whatever it is you're worried about? I think people like us have little besides each other.”

The last bit sticks with Shino. As she chews on the words once more, she stares at her hands. The weight they carry is impossibly heavy, but if what Agil says is true, then that means others, too, carry the same burden. 

Her trembling ceases.

He pauses. “Or something?” 

He’s not sure how much sense he is making. 

“I’m not sure how much sense I’m making.”

That gets a chuckle out of her, and that’s good enough for him.

*

Rika exits the bathroom, her former bartender-y, formal-ish ponytail from a few minutes ago undone into a mess of brown hair. Her lack of an apron reveals the cute hammer patterns on her graphic shirt.

"Are you two nerds done talking about nerd stuff?" She says, as if not just as much of one.

Agil and Shino roll their eyes.

"Yeah, we’re done with our nerd stuff."

Rika starts sliding her arm into her jacket, then turns to Shino. “Sweet. Are you ready to go then?”

Shino looks at Agil, who simply offers her a friendly wave and a knowing smile.

“Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

*

The two girls walk off together to the train station. The empty night streets give them quiet, with little to focus on other than the sound of boots hitting pavement, the cold breeze, and each other. It’s then when, bashful yet confident, Shino tries to interlock her fingers with Rika’s.

Rika squeezes her hand in return, rough yet fond. 

As Rika wordlessly taps her fingers on Shino’s knuckles, Shino realizes that Agil was right. There’s no way that those hands, fitting so perfectly together, were meant to be apart. Perhaps such heavy hands have no other pairs but each other, and that is fine.

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XX

January 4, 2278.

I followed Percy outside the Lamplight Caverns, trying to match the pace of her footsteps. Her shoulders are all tensed up again, and I just know a storm’s brewing in her head. I reached out to touch her shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Percy, how are we going to rescue those children from Paradise Falls?”

“Simple. We sneak in, free the slaves, and fuck the place up so no slaver can set foot in it again. Then we escort the kids back to Lamplight so we can proceed with retrieving the GECK.”

I shook my head. “Percy, that’s easier said than done. If we’re going to take down Paradise Falls, we need coordinated attacks. Inside information. Tactics. Rushing in would be foolish,” I tell her.

My friend gives me a sour look, but it melts into a pout. “You’re right. Shit, how are we going to pull this off?”

“May I suggest something?” I ask her. Her face lights up, lips curling into a smile.

“You know I appreciate all your suggestions,” Percy responds, bumping her arm against mine. The corner of my mouth twitches upward before I can stop myself.

“We need inside information. A layout of the place would be a good start. Then we figure out tactics. Our attack must be coordinated,” I tell her.

Percy pushes her glasses up, brows furrowing. “Yes. We’ll need to take care of logistics too. Ammunition. Medicine.”

Then she pauses, opens her mouth, and closes it again.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Charon,” she starts, rubbing the back of her neck. “You said that slavers used to hold your contract years ago, yes?”

My throat tightens, but I nod.

“Then, do you happen to remember details about the place?”

I blink at Percy a few times, the holes in my memory screwing things up again. I couldn’t say anything.

“It’s okay big guy, don’t force yourself. Just tell me when you remember something,” my friend responds.

We continue walking.

The sun is high up in the sky, but it isn’t warm. Flakes of snow land on me and turn into water droplets. The days are getting colder, and though the radiation in my body and the lack of nerves on the parts of myself that didn’t have skin made me more resistant to it, I can still feel it in my bones.

We pause at the side of the road. Thankfully, the cold meant creatures stayed in their burrows, and raiders kept mostly to their camps, near the fires. Percy takes out the scarf she got from Tulip’s shop and wraps it around her neck. It must’ve been musty; she wrinkled her nose when she took her first inhale. I snorted softly at her reaction. Then, she reaches into her pack again and tosses me a hat.

“I thought you might like it,” she tells me as I look at the hat in my hands. “It’s an ushanka. You don’t have much hair to keep your head warm, and this hat has flaps on the side. I think you’ll like it.”

Something stirs in my chest. It wasn’t unpleasant… but it made me long for a life I lost centuries ago.

“My father used to wear one.”

Percy’s eyes lit up. “Oh. What was he like?”

“Tall. Strong. His hair was red,” I told her as I put the hat on.

It’s as cozy as I imagined. I felt like a child again.

When I tried my father’s hat on, it was too big for me. He said that one day I’ll be big like him and grow into it.

That day never came.

“Like you.”

I didn’t respond. I just bumped my arm against hers.

“I’ve read in a book in Arlington that those things came from a place called Russia. Have you ever been there, Charon?”

“No. But my parents came from that place.”

“Oh. Do you still remember the language? Or the culture?”

I hummed. “Barely. We used to speak it at home… but that was a very long time ago. There was a lullaby my mother used to sing to me, but I cannot remember all the words.”

“Was that the song you hummed to me, when I was grieving my dad?”

“Yes.”

Percy sighs and stretches her hands over her head, and they land on her sides with a muffled thud. “It’s a beautiful melody. So many things lost to war…”

I kept quiet, looking away. There are horrid things about wars I didn’t want to remember.

“Sorry for the rambling. I was thinking about dad.”

“Nothing to apologize for.”

Percy flashes me a smile. “Remember the day we got Dad out of Vault 112? He immediately ran off to get back to Rivet City and we had to tail him without stopping. He even took out a Super Mutant with a rebar club he picked up… Jesus .”

I remember that. James was pretty tough, for a doctor. Like Percy. Now I know where she gets it from.

“I guess I am my father’s daughter. I was so ready to dive into things. Like that book I wrote with Moira…”

“...that made you sick for days,” I interrupt, and she laughs.

“Yeah. Admittedly, that was pretty impulsive and stupid of me. And now I almost rushed into storming Paradise Falls. Dad used to be my impulse control when we were in the vault. I was just thinking, what would Dad say if he were still here? I used to live off of his advice...”

Without thinking, I put my arm around Percy’s shoulder, her small frame bumping into my side, and she lets out a soft grunt. Then, she laughs, and wraps her arm around my waist.

“I’ll make sure you won’t run off to do anything rash.”

“I’m glad you’re around, Charon.”

I didn’t respond. I just smiled. I hope she didn’t see it.

As we continued our trek back to Megaton, Percy said something that made me remember a detail about Paradise Falls.

“Dad probably would tell me to stock up on medical supplies. Remind me to go to Doc Church’s clinic when we get back. We might need Med-X. Lot’s of it.”

Doc Church.

Paradise Falls.

Wait a damn minute.

September 28, 2277.

I guess I’m a fucking babysitter now.

This girl that I’m supposed to protect and keep out of harm’s way just couldn’t stop getting herself in trouble now, couldn’t she?

I’d understand if it were due to raiders or wasteland creatures. But no, she just had to get herself sick from drinking that fucking atomic bomb water, and as if the radiation wasn’t enough, she had to contract a disease from it too. Stupid.

If it wasn’t for the contract, I would’ve let her sorry ass suffer the consequences of her foolishness. For someone who’s so smart, couldn’t she just explain the effects of radiation to that egghead who asked her to irradiate herself “for science”? It also doesn’t fucking help that she jumped off the railings to cripple her legs for that “scientist” too. It was a miracle that she didn’t receive any permanent injuries from that.

God fucking dammit. What she’s doing is borderline suicidal.

Her illness delayed our plans, as well. We were supposed to be in Rivet City by now. Instead, she’s feverish and looking miserable on the couch, the dog whining as she groaned and grumbled. Dogmeat licks her face, and she buries it in the dog’s fur.

Days ago, I noticed how small she really was, and now she looks even smaller, legs pressed against her chest, curled under a tattered blanket.

A pang of guilt twists in me for even thinking of abandoning her. She’s my employer, and she has been good to me so far. I shouldn’t think of such a thing.

But she’s making it difficult for me to do my damn job.

Sluggish, she stands up, and reaches for her jacket, the one with the snake embroidery on the back. Percy shuffles to the door, and I follow her.

“Miss, you are in no condition to be up.”

“I just need to get more antibiotics from the clinic, if the doc has any left,” she croaks. Her voice is hoarse from all the vomiting she did from her hangover and her illness.

I’d pity her, if she didn’t inflict it on herself.

“As you wish,” I replied.

We left the dog at home, who took the warm spot where she used to lie. I had to help her through the downward path from her house to the town clinic, making sure that she doesn’t stumble and fall, her arm around my waist. I look down and see the top of her head, her black hair tousled.

I had an urge to smooth it out with my hands, but of course I didn’t act on it.

I went inside the clinic first, opening the door for my mistress. The doctor didn’t glance up from his clipboard.

“Unless you’re dying, I don’t want to hear anything about-”

When he looked up, it took one look at me for him to stop his bitching, eyes wide.

I narrowed my eyes.

I swear I’ve seen his face before, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“Doc,” Percy croaks, voice cracking. “Do you still have antibiotics? Need a refill.”

The doctor clears his throat.

“That’s what you get for drinking the water from the crater with those Church of Atom folks,” he grumbles, standing up from his seat and heading inside his office. He comes back with a bottle of pills, which he gives to Percy.

As Percy was counting her caps, I can see the sweat on the doctor’s forehead as he watched me.

“Does he need anything too?”

“Oh, no. He’s my bodyguard,” Percy replies. “Charon, meet Doc Church.”

As soon as Percy hands him the caps, he hurriedly shows us the door.

Now I remember why he was so nervous.

“Wait. Church used to offer his medical services for the slavers,” I blurt out, and Percy whirls around.

“Are you sure? You didn’t seem to recognize him the first time you met him in Megaton.”

“Might be the age. If there’s any way I can prove it to you, I am unsure, though.”

Percy furrows her brow. “Let’s hurry back to Megaton. I have an idea.”

When we arrived in Megaton, it was already dark. The shops are closed, and Church’s clinic is closed as well. After dumping our equipment in the house, I followed Percy to Gob’s Saloon. Her footsteps are heavier than usual from her haste.

We got in, and there were a few patrons lounging about, but it was quiet. Gob’s face lights up at the sight of my friend.

“Percy! Good to see you,” he greets, and Percy nods at him.

“Hey. Gob, we need to talk,” Percy tells him. “In private. It’s important.”

With apprehension, Gob leads us to a room behind the bar, and Nova takes over for a moment. It’s a narrow room with a terminal adjacent to a back door, something that’s rare in Megaton. The other structures have single entry and exit points.

“Are Moriarty’s files still there?” Percy asks him.

“I haven’t touched the thing at all, smoothskin. I thought of letting Moira tinker with it so I can use it to keep track of tabs, but the thing just reminds me of Moriarty.”

Percy sighs in relief. “Well, thank whatever the fuck’s out there that they’re still here. Do you have his password?”

“I already threw the paper away. Sorry, Percy.”

Rolling her sleeves, Percy powers on the terminal and begins typing away. “It’s fine.”

Gob looks over Percy’s shoulder, eyes flicking to the text on the screen. “What do you need the files for, anyway?”

“Moriarty’s got dirt on almost everyone here and the prick was more than willing to rub it in my face. I’m trying to get information on someone,” my friend replies, flicking a stray lock of her hair away from her face. “Aha, there we are.”

Her face is inscrutable.

“Charon, you’re right,” she tells me, her eyes still on the screen.

“Can you please slow down and tell me what’s going on?” Gob asks, scratching the little skin he had left on his cheek. “This is all so sudden, Percy. Sorry.”

My friend and I look at each other. We know the other ghoul was trustworthy. There was a silent agreement between us.

“Promise to keep quiet about this? It could put all of us in danger.”

Gob nods enthusiastically.

“We’re going to take down Paradise Falls,” she says, and Gob’s eyes widens.

“Whoa, Percy, I know the two of you are badasses, but how are you gonna do that?”

“That’s what we’re figuring out. First, we gotta know the place inside and out, so we’ll know where to come and go,” Percy responds.

“That’s… actually pretty smart, wow.”

“It’s Charon’s idea,” she adds, nudging my arm with her elbow. I can feel my lips curling into a smile again, but this time I fought the urge.

“We’ll also need a rendezvous point while planning this operation out,” I add, and both of them turn to me. “This room is secure, and the back entry makes it ideal for whoever is involved in the operation to come and go in the cover of night. I suggest we meet here for a week, if Gob will allow it.”

Grinning, Percy turns to Gob. “Good idea. What do you say, Gob?”

Gob seemed to hesitate, but he smiled at us. “Y’know, I used to hope I can fight the Good Fight instead of being stuck here. Maybe I can’t go out there and be badass slaver hunters like you guys, but I’d do what I can to help. Sure.”

Percy pulls the other ghoul in an embrace. “Thank you!”

“Hey, it’s nothing smoothskin,” Gob replies, leaning into the embrace.

He probably needed that, but still I can’t help but look away.

“Is a week really all you’ll need, though?”

“I’ve been in operations with less resources and less time to coordinate,” I tell him.

“Anyway, Charon said Doc Church used to patch up slavers. What I saw in Moriarty’s terminal confirms it,” Percy explains.

“What are you gonna do to the doc?” Gob asks, tone wary.

“We’re not gonna hurt him. Whatever he was then, he’s overworked helping Megaton now. Sounds like a man who’s trying to atone. We’re going to use that as leverage to get him to help us.”

Gob rubs his arm. “Be careful, the two of you. Oh man, those slavers probably have connections everywhere. They could get you guys killed.”

A dark glint in her eye, Percy gives Gob a smirk. It was unnerving and fascinating at the same time. I’m certain that this woman is still the same kind and gentle girl I met months ago, but something changed.

“I’d like to see them try.”

[wellthatjusthappend]

Hi! If you're still taking prompts, please could you write a Ra'sJay, with Ra's courting an oblivious Jason. Jason thinks Ra's is threatening him or sending him some kind of warning. Everyone around him is constantly face-palming because how can someone be so oblivious?

Yeah sure! 

This turned out a little angsty, but Ra’s is a creep so what else is new?

****

“You’re not Tim,” Jason frowned when he opened the door to see Dick standing on his doorstep holding the piece of equipment he’d asked Tim for earlier that day.

“He was pretty busy, so I volunteered,” Dick said scratching the back of his head and smiling ruefully.

“Whatever, just bring it in,” Jason gestured him inside.

Dick hauled the box inside and immediately began chattering about whatever fight Tim and the Demon Brat had gotten into lately as he unpacked it on Jason’s living room floor. He was obviously a little uncomfortable, but seemed determined to act like everything was normal.

Jason squinted at him suspiciously. Were they really going to pretend the last two times they’d seen each other they hadn’t ended up making out like teenagers?

“So, what’d you need this for?” Dick finally asked as he finished setting up the scanner.

Jason debated telling him to fuck off, but he had brought him the equipment.

“Special delivery,” Jason shrugged, gesturing toward the package on his windowsill, “Looks like something from the League, but Talia usually calls if she’s sending something to me. Seeing as Ra’s threw a fit when Talia dumped me in the pit… I figured better safe than sorry.”

“You think it might be something dangerous?” Dick said, instantly becoming serious.

“I already scanned it for explosives and listening devices,” Jason said, “but Tim reckoned it was a good idea to go over it with some of his tech before I started handling it.”

“Probably a good idea,” Dick agreed.

Being careful not to disturb the box, Dick x-rayed the package, checking for more detailed contaminates, while Jason went over it with a magic sniffer Jason Blood had gifted Bruce years back.

“It’s a knife,” Dick said after a moment.

“Nothing too fucked up about it, other then having been in a Lazarus Pit at some point in history,” Jason agreed, setting down the device and kneeling to open up the box. Dick hovered next to him tensely, but Jason ignored him in favor of pulling out a velvet-lined case for the most ornate dagger Jason had ever seen.

“Looks ceremonial,” mused Jason unsheathing the thing gingerly, “Jesus, this thing has got to be old as fuck.”

Dick made a weird strangled sound next to him.

“That’s a courting dagger,” Dick said in shock, “Talia gave Bruce one, ages ago.”

“Huh,” Jason hummed, tilting the mirror like blade in the light, “Kinda romantic. Better than ring or flowers, I’ll give you that.”

“Jason-” Dick began sharply.

“Relax,” Jason rolled his eyes, “It's probably Ra's being a dramatic asshole and warning me off Talia or something.”

“But what if it’s exactly what it looks like?” Dick looked far from convinced.

“What? As a courting gift?” Jason snorted.

“Yeah,” Dick said seriously.

Jason laughed outright at that. How utterly absurd could Dick get?

“Oh, please,” Jason snickered, “Ra’s doesn’t even like me, remember? Besides, isn’t it Timmy who he has the hard on for?”

“Maybe…” Dick frowned, “But still, I remember Bruce talking about how serious that kind of gesture was in the league… Those daggers are precious; they’re not something you just hand out.”

“Yeah, that is weird…” Jason shook his head as he looked at the jewel encrusted hilt. He’d bet his savings that this thing was worth a fortune, “I’ll call Talia and see if she knows anything.”

“I don’t like this,” Dick grumbled.

“Noted,” Jason rolled his eyes as he gathered up the tools he’d borrowed and packed them back the box. Except the magic detectors. He was hoping Dick was distracted enough that he wouldn’t notice Jason had stuffed those under the couch. Those things were fucking useful.

“I think you should come stay at the Manor until we know what Ra’s is planning,” Dick said stubbornly.

“Ha, that sounds like a bloodbath waiting to happen,” Jason snorted.

“At least come stay with me,” Dick pleaded.

That sounded dangerous for a whole host of other reasons.

“Goodbye Dickie,” Jason said pushing the box into his hands and trying to push him out the door.

“Jason, I’m serious,” Dick planted his feet and glowered at him.

He was too pretty to do that very well, Jason mused.

“So am I,” Jason rolled his eyes, “Seriously, it’s fine. If I was worried about it I would have chucked it in the trash.”

“If something happens-” Dick insisted.

“I know how to call for backup,” Jason said dryly. Not that he probably would.

Dick looked like he sincerely wanted to say something else, but finally he shook his head and backed off, “Just… call if you get more info.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason waved him out and locked the door.

Dick was so paranoid sometimes. And what the fuck was with him and suddenly deciding that everyone and their dog wanted Jason’s ass all of a sudden? Jason knew he was hardly hideous, but pretty much every other member of the Bat’s were miles more attractive than he was. It was just a fact.

Jason plopped down on the couch to call Talia, when he noticed that the velvet bottom of the box the dagger had comin wasn’t laying completely flat. Curious, Jason lifted the padding to find a note hidden at the bottom.

It was in the League’s special dialect of Arabic, but Jason had plenty of practice with that.

-

Hello My Vicious One,

You may remember that although my daughter saw fit to cut corners and restore your mind with the Pit waters, it was I who took you in. I restored your body from the feeble husk it had become. I rid you of the last vestiges of death and taught your soul how to fight once more. Somehow, you walked away from death by your own power, and for that alone you earned my special attention. My daughter may have led you astray and set you on a foolish path for revenge for her own petty purposes, but you have risen above them, without the Bat, and claimed a small part of the underworld as your own.

I have a proposition for you that I think you shall find intriguing. Come to the base where I first raised you from darkness’, and show the guards the dagger I sent you and they will grant you access to my quarters. There we may speak freely.

The Demon Head

-

What the fuck?

Jason had no idea what to make of that. Talia had told him that Ra’s had thought him unworthy because of his lowly origins. Could she have been lying?

As soon as he thought it, Jason snorted. Talia lied all the time, that wasn’t the issue. The question was if Jason wanted to risk going to meet Ra’s. Talia’s contacts wouldn’t hold a candle to the types of resources Ra’s could give him. But of course, Ra’s was also less trustworthy.

Still, offending him was probably an even worse idea.

Dick would throw a fit if he knew Jason was planning to go on his own, but he’d never been good at seeing the bigger picture. A gesture of good faith, that he wouldn’t insult Ra’s by bringing backup to an invitation that was clearly meant for him alone. That being said, Jason wasn’t going to be stupid about it. He’d go as prepared as he could get.

Ra’s said it was the base where he’d been ‘raised from darkness’ so perhaps the place where he’d regained consciousness after wandering blindly through Gotham’s streets? His memories before he’d been pushed into the pit were a confusing mess of images and sensations that made his head ache to try and parse through.

Mostly he remembered the feel of a sword in his hand and the ache in his arms as he was trained, the cool salty smell of the air, the slide of silk cloth against his skin, staring endlessly at the intricate rafters of a ceiling, the low rumble of Ra’s voice, a window where he sometimes kept watch-

Oh. Oh, he knew where he was supposed to go.

-

Stepping foot on Infinity Island was a bit like stepping into a dream that someone else had. Everything familiar and foreign at the same time, but Jason refused to let that sway him: if he was meeting with the Demon Head, there could be no trace of uncertainty in him.

It took longer than expected for Jason to be confronted by assassins. They came at him so quickly he didn’t even have a chance to show them the dagger, instead he focused on taking them down as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

The next set were rightfully more wary.

“Look, your boss invited me here, any chance we could skip this part?” Jason asked holding up the dagger.

There was a ripple of shock through the group and Jason was suddenly being sized up in a completely different manner.

They conferred quickly amongst themselves, and Jason caught the term ‘al sirr’ being thrown around multiple times. He wasn’t familiar with that one.

“We will take you to him,” the leader of the group finally told him with a slight bow.

Interesting.

Jason was led back through the maze of buildings and vegetation that he somewhat recognized.

“We are allowed no further,” the assassin said finally, gesturing for Jason to continue on his own, “Our Master is waiting for you.”

Jason inclined his head and continued on his own. These halls were much more familiar and so was the stillness that made the hair on his neck stand on end. He caught himself switching into the silent lope that Talia had taught him just to avoid the sound of his own footsteps.

God Ra’s was such a creepy fuck.

The door at the end of the hallway could be no one but Ra’s. It was too gaudy to be anyone else's. Jason didn’t bother knocking, just stepped inside.

“Well hello, Jason,” Ra’s greeted him from where he was reclined on an enormous bed, “You’re here sooner than I expected.”

Jason felt distinctly uncomfortable. He supposed Ra’s did say that he coming to his personal quarters so they wouldn’t be overheard. Still… he didn’t expect to come to his bedroom.

“You need a new head of security,” Jason said bluntly instead, “I got way too close to the base without being braced.”

“Indeed. Perhaps you could take over that role?” Ra’s mused.

“What?” Jason frowned.

“A passing fancy,” Ra’s waved his confusion away, “you and I are not at that point yet.”

Jason bit back telling him they’d never be ‘at that point’.

“So are you going to explain what this was about?” Jason asked holding up the dagger Ra’s had given him.

“Oh, just a gesture,” Ra’s said, which Jason didn’t believe for a second. Not with the way he assassin's had reacted. Not with whatever unnamable thing was in Ra’s eyes as they swept over him.

It’s a courting dagger , he could hear Dick telling him. Jason shook it off. There was no way.

“What do you remember about your time here?” Ra’s said rising from the bed and beckoning Jason over.

“Bits and pieces, why?” Jason said suspiciously.

Jason did not like the smile Ra’s gave him.

“Pity… I do wish my daughter had seen fit to leave you in my care. It was not her place to take you for her own,” there was a dark look on Ra’s face, but it was gone just as quickly, “Ah, but it did speed things up. You have become truly magnificent.”

A possessive hand traced over Jason’s side.

Creepy.

“Cut to the chase, Ra’s,” Jason snapped.

This look Ra’s was giving him was also familiar for reason’s Jason didn’t understand. All he knew was that it made him feel small and a bit like he was shutting down. Jason ignored that feeling and tilted his chin up defiantly.

Ra’s looked pleased by the reaction.

“Mmm, very well then,” Ra’s said, “I’ll be frank then, I want access to study your blood. You know what immortality means to me, and you also know how significant it is that you came back without the use of a pit.”

“What, you didn’t get your fill when you had me here?” Jason frowned.

Ra’s had a private smile for that.

“We thought your mind was lost at the time,” Ra’s said, “I had not interest in something that would leave me an empty doll.”

“And now you know it won’t. Great,” huffed Jason, “And what do I get out of this?”

“Free access to the League’s databank and, should you need it, a small elite force of assassins that will do your bidding,” Ra’s listed off.

This deal was a little too good to be true. It made Jason instantly suspicious.

“What’s the catch?” Jason demanded, “Don’t pretend you couldn’t just get samples of my blood easily without all of this.”

Ra’s eyes lingered on the dagger for a moment like he was enjoying a private joke at Jason’s expense.

“I could have, but that would have made it apparent that there might be something interesting in your blood and I am hardly the only one in the world after immortality. I don’t tolerate competitors,” Ra’s was back in Jason’s personal space again, “I’d like you to come personally if I require blood. It’s much nicer that way, is it not?”

Jason didn’t like this, but he did want access to that databases.

“I can call it off any time I want,” Jason finally said.

“Of course.” Ra’s inclined his head.

Jason still felt wary, but he couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

“Alright, deal,” he agreed.

One vial of blood probably wouldn’t do too much harm, and like he’d pointed out before, it’s not like Ra’s couldn’t get it on his own anyway. At least this way Jason got something out of it.

“Sit here,” Ra’s gestured to the bed while he prepared a syringe.

Jason sat cautiously and watching exactly what he was doing just incase he decided to dose him or something instead.

“Remove your jacket and armor,” Ra’s ordered. Jason tipped his head back to say something snarky when he caught sight of something over Ra’s shoulder.

“Is everything alright?” Ra’s asked, watching Jason’s face carefully, “Did you, by chance, remember something?”

“No,” Jason said firmly, carefully calming himself, “It’s nothing. And I’ll just roll up my sleeve, I don’t need to take anything off.”

“...Very well,” Ra’s agreed.

Jason focused all his attention of the blood drawing rather than dwell on the fact that he had so many memories of staring at Ra’s al Ghul’s bedroom ceiling.

-

Jason knocked over a lamp when he hurriedly climbed through Dick’s bedroom window.

“Jay?” Dick said in surprise, lowering his escrima sticks from where he had been crouched in a pair of sleep pants.

“I…” Jason shook his head, trying to shake away the skin crawling memory of Ra’s eyes looking him over, “You said I could stay here for a while?”

“Of course…” Dick frowned, looking him over more closely, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Jason said curtly, shrugging off his jacket and shoes, “Just tired.”

“Ok…” Dick eyed him warily, “Let me just pull some extra blankets out for the couch-”

“Can I stay here?” Jason interrupted, “with you?”

He didn’t know why he said it, and Dick looked even more alarmed by the request.

“Never mind-” Jason started to backtrack, hand scrubbing through his hair.

“No,” Dick said a little too quickly, “It’s fine, I was just… surprised.”

“Right,” Jason said looking at the ground as he settled on the edge of the bed.

“Did… something happen?” Dick asked.

Jason thought of the possessive hand skimming down his side as Ra’s told him he was a valuable asset. He was probably just imagining things though. Telling Dick would just make him even more paranoid than he already was.

“No,” Jason decided, “Nothing happened. I’m good.”

He didn’t care if Dick didn’t believe him.

[amandaoftherosemire]

IDGAF -- One-Shot

Fandom: Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6539

Format: One-Shot

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff

Summary: Standing in line for coffee, cursing the ex-boyfriend who won’t leave you alone, you lay eyes on Bucky Barnes for the first time.

A/N: I started to write this months ago because my darling @hellzzzbelle was having a hard day and I wanted to make her feel better. Unfortunately, once I got half-way through I couldn’t get it out of my brain and onto the page. Once my long fic was out of the way, however, this was one of the first things I finished. I figure this is another opportunity to make “Better Late Than Never” the tagline of my life. I hope y’all like it, especially you, peach.

As you stood in line for coffee, you glared down at your phone in disbelief.

I don’t know why you’re being so childish about this.

“Oh, fuck you and everyone who looks like you, James.” You were muttering under your breath and figured no one in the coffee shop could hear you but to your surprise, the giant in front of you turned around.

“I beg your pardon?”

When you'd gotten in line, the part of your brain that has nothing to do but search for eye candy had noted the man in front of you with approval. Tall and broad, the muscles of his back, shoulders, and arms stretched the long-sleeved t-shirt he wore in all sorts of fascinating ways. A tight ass and thick thighs only added to the allure. You'd been too involved in cursing James six ways to Sunday to pay close attention when you came in, but you couldn't help but think if the face matched the body, he'd be downright lethal. You’d been looking for a new coffee spot since your ex ruined your previous haunt and you were pretty sure you’d found the one if guys this hot hung out there.

As your eyes climbed up from your phone into ice-blue eyes set in a face carved by gods to drive mortals crazy, you realized you were absolutely correct. Lethal.

The man was just plain beautiful. His dark brown hair was pulled back into a stubby ponytail with a few loose locks falling to frame his pretty face. His jawline and cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass, but his lips were plump and full and looked soft enough to sleep on. His eyes, though, were bright and amused as they caught and held yours.

You realized you'd been staring when that gorgeous mouth quirked up at the corner.

"I'm sorry," you stammered out. "Text message pissed me off."

"Ah." He nodded with a smile. "My given name's James, so I thought you were talking to me for a second." His voice was low and warm and sent shivers down your spine.

Desperate to keep him talking, you asked the first thing that came to mind. "Given name?"

He smiled wider and you had to fight the whimper that wanted to escape your mouth. "Most people call me Bucky."

You stuffed your phone in your back pocket and held out your hand to shake. James could go fuck himself. You had much, much bigger, hotter fish to fry. "Nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm y/n."

Bucky took your hand in his and the feel of his callused palm against yours was delicious. You'd never met a man more physically magnetic than this one, so when he held your hand a little longer than necessary, it made your heart beat faster at the thought that he might be as interested in you as you were in him.

"Pleasure's mine," he rumbled. "How'd James piss you off? If you don't mind me asking."

You laughed, a little breathlessly and you hoped he didn't hear it. "Have you ever been dumped and then had the asshole try to come crawling back?"

"Can't say that I have," he replied with grin.

"It's both immensely satisfying and incredibly irritating." You were grinning back at him, neither of you noticing that the man behind the counter was waiting on Bucky.

The 40ish woman behind you, who'd been eavesdropping and was thoroughly enjoying the meet-cute happening right in front of her, leaned around you and said to Bucky, "If it was your turn, handsome, what would you do?"

Bucky blushed and you thought it might be the cutest damn thing you'd ever seen. Seeing a man this big, this muscled, this gorgeous so sweetly embarrassed was devastating. As he turned around to speak to the barista about his order, you turned to the woman behind you and rolled your eyes as you mock swooned. She grinned back at you and murmured almost inaudibly, "Get it, girl. Do it for all of us.”

You stepped forward when Bucky moved down the counter towards the pick-up window, though he appeared to be taking his time. You hoped it was because of you, but you couldn't believe a man this unbelievably attractive would genuinely be interested.

Except when you pulled out your wallet to pay, the barista smiled and jerked his head towards Bucky, who was acting like he wasn’t listening. “Already taken care of.” You shrugged and stuffed a couple ones in the tip jar before moving to stand next to the gorgeous creature that had just bought your coffee.

“Thank you,” you said with a shy and quiet smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Consider it an apology from the Jameses of the world.” Bucky was hunching his shoulders a little and his face was going pink. The sight of this big, beautiful man smiling so shyly made your heart sigh a little and you damned the thing for being so easily wooed.

“I’d rather consider it a present from my new friend Bucky.” You didn’t know who was more surprised at the flirtatious words coming out of your mouth, you or Bucky, but his face flamed just as you felt your own cheeks heat.

Bucky, who was cursing himself for ordering ahead to save time, picked up the three drink carriers on the counter in front of him as he replied, his expression pleased. “I like that better, too.”  You were astonished to see him balance them with an almost uncanny ease, but the way his biceps moved under his shirt distracted you. When at his words you met his gaze, he shot you another blushing smile before ducking his head a little.

“I hope I see you around, Bucky, and not just ‘cause you buy me my favorite coffee.” You winked cheekily at him as you said the last. You were astonished at your own forwardness but unable to stop yourself. You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t throw yourself at him just a little bit.

Bucky had opened his mouth to reply as he lifted his eyes to yours when his eyes caught something over your shoulder. His face went sheet white and you glanced behind you. You saw nothing but other patrons and no one looked upsetting enough to disturb a man this well-muscled.

When you looked back, Bucky seemed to be hiding behind his hair as he mumbled, “Yeah, nice to meet ya.” You stared as he turned and fairly bolted from the café.

“Y/N!” You jumped when the barista called out your name, so stunned were you by the sudden change in Bucky’s demeanor. You knew it was foolish to be hurt by the behavior of someone you’d only just met, but that didn’t stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes. You grabbed the hazelnut macchiato and turned to leave when the woman who’d been behind you in line placed a hand on your arm.

“I bet this is what set him off,” she said, her face and voice kind as she placed a newspaper in your hand. On the front of the paper was the man who’d just bought you coffee in handcuffs next to Captain America under the headline The Winter Soldier: Truly Reformed?

Your mouth fell open with a pop. You vaguely remembered hearing about this, but as you'd been buried in graduate school when the trial had been going on, the bearded man with his hair in his face hadn’t made an impression. You looked at the door Bucky had run through and remembered how he’d seemed to hide behind his hair just before he’d run out.

When you looked back down at Bucky, because it was undeniably Bucky, though he was clean shaven now but for a little sexy stubble, the woman who’d handed you the paper murmured, “Didn’t seem that bad to me, but I’ve always been a sucker for a killer smile.” You gaped at her as she tipped you a wink and breezed by you with an airy wave. She was gone before you could find your voice to remind her you still had her paper.

You read the article. Of course you did. Then you spent all of your free time over the next three days searching for any other information you could get your hands on. Now that the man had bought you coffee and you weren’t living off caffeine, nicotine, and occasionally Adderall to make it through your Master’s thesis, the story caught you and you couldn’t get enough.

Also, you needed to understand. Bucky had seemed totally normal, except for being possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever personally laid eyes on. However, the one thing you remembered was that the Winter Soldier was a Russian assassin. It didn’t make any sense.

Once you started reading about James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, Captain America's oldest and best friend, prisoner of war and unwilling HYDRA test subject, you couldn’t stop yourself. Using everything you knew, which was considerable, about researching and verifying information, you had learned enough to come to a conclusion of your own.

Based on the testimony at his trial, you thought the verdict to acquit obvious. You simply couldn’t see how he could be held responsible for what he’d been forced to do when what had been done to him had been taken into account. The fact that he’d not been caught but turned himself in once he could no longer be used as a weapon, proved beyond a shadow of a doubt in the courtroom when the trigger words had been read aloud to a stoic, persistent Bucky Barnes, spoke volumes as to the kind of man he was.

You weren’t going to judge before you knew him. Hell, if you saw him again, you were going to buy him coffee.

Bucky slid soundlessly into the elevator with a sigh of relief. He jabbed repeatedly at the door close button; he was almost home free. He could tell by the look in her eye that Natasha had noticed his new habit of haunting the coffee shop. He had no doubt she’d be following him soon.

As the doors slid closed, Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, cut painfully short by the slim redhead slipping into the elevator at the last second.

“You want some company today?” Natasha asked, the corner of her mouth lifting in quiet amusement.

Internally, Bucky was cursing viciously, but he answered quietly. “If you want.”

Though Natasha wasn’t looking directly at Bucky, she could see his thunderous expression out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t know why the people in her life insisted on trying to keep things from her. “For future reference,” she remarked casually, “the door close button doesn’t do anything.”

Bucky paused for a fraction of a second before answering, considering how best to NOT confirm that he’d been trying to avoid her. “What?” he asked, infusing as much puzzlement as he could into the word.

Natasha tipped him a long, vaguely insulted look. She would never understand how this man in particular could so often underestimate her. “It’s called a placebo button. It doesn’t do anything but it’s still there because people like to believe they have some control over their lives.”

Bucky stared in disbelief at Natasha’s impassive profile. “Gee whiz, Natasha. If you’re gonna be this much fun, can you come with me every time?”

“Is that a dare?” Her head turned slowly as she spoke, and the look of challenge on her face sent a chill of fear running down Bucky’s spine.

“God, no.” Bucky spoke fervently as they exited the elevator. “I haven’t forgotten.” He didn’t know how exactly, but Steve always managed to find the most dangerous women on the planet. He now had a scar at his temple where he’d cracked his head open in fright thanks to Natasha.

When Bucky had first come to live with Steve, he’d expressed doubt that she was capable of sneaking up on him. Over the next week, she’d scared the shit out of him dozens of times before he’d finally admitted defeat. He’d kind of loved it; it had been nice to be not be treated like he was broken.

Once they were on the street, Natasha slipped her arm through Bucky’s and smiled winningly up at him. “Do I need to interrogate you? Or are you gonna make it easy on yourself and just tell me why you’re always going to the coffee shop?”

Bucky refused to look at her, well aware of how uncannily observant she was and hoping to avoid giving himself away. “I’d cop to an interrogation.”

Natasha smiled fully this time. “They all think that.”

Bucky slanted her a look out of the corner of his eye, then burst out laughing at the sly grin on the little redhead’s pretty face. “I met a girl.” He gave in with a wry laugh. He didn’t know why he bothered to resist. The Black Widow wasn’t dangerous simply because she was deadly; she could have her prey fully wrapped in silken bonds before they even knew they were trapped. “I’m trying to run into her again.”

“May I ask why you do not already have this girl’s number?” Her tone told him she already suspected he’d fucked it up. “If she’s worth this much effort.”

Bucky ducked his head, hiding behind his hair, something Natasha considered a terrible habit. His voice low, knowing she’d disapprove, he confessed. “I met her the day that big article about me came out. I panicked and bolted before I could work up the nerve to ask.”

Natasha’s secret tender heart melted a little, but she kept her expression sardonic. “Story checks out.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re too sensitive about it.”

Natasha’s airy tone had Bucky snarling. “Am I?”

“You should at least pretend it doesn’t bother you.” The spy that always lived under the surface of her skin spoke absently, her attention caught by the scuffle up ahead on the sidewalk between them and the coffee shop they were heading toward.

Bucky couldn’t be sure, but he thought he detected a touch of wistfulness behind her words. His voice gentler than it might have been otherwise, he murmured, “Is that what you do?”

“Get fucked, James.”

The sound of your voice, ripe with the same loathing he’d heard the first time he’d heard you speak, had his head snapping up to scan the street in all directions.

Next to him, Natasha was smiling again, having noticed Bucky’s sudden alertness. “Are my thoughts audible now?” she asked, mock concerned. “That’s not good.”

Bucky wasn’t listening, his attention entirely on the drama unfolding in front of the coffee shop where he’d met you. His heart was galloping in his chest, either in terror or anticipation, he wasn’t sure which. He was trying to think of a greeting that didn’t make him feel like an asshole when he realized the slickly handsome man in front of you was blocking your path.

“Come on, Y/N!” The man’s voice was a wheedle, and immediately set Bucky’s teeth on edge. “Give me a chance to explain.” With this he reached out and grabbed your arm as you tried to walk around him.

Your eyes went cold as ice as you looked down at James’ restraining hand. He’d gotten completely out of control lately. It was time to remind him who he was dealing with. Your hand closed around the pen in your jacket pocket. “You’re gonna want to take that hand off me.”

James’ eyes narrowed and you felt his hand tighten on your arm. Typical. Quick as a snake, you struck out with the pen, stabbing him in his pretty artist’s hand with vindictive glee.

James yanked his hand away with a yelp and a plaintive, “Look, I’m sorry.”

A few feet down the sidewalk, Bucky and Nat slowed to watch the tableau. Now that it was abundantly clear you had the situation under control, he was happy to stand back and observe. Natasha murmured out of the corner of her mouth. “Did she just stab him in the hand with a pen? I approve.”

Bucky breathed out, attraction and admiration warring in his chest. “That’s her. I think I’m in love.”

You were so fucking done with this bullshit. James had been bugging you for days about getting together “for closure.” You’d naturally been ignoring him. As far as you were concerned, your James chapter was closed. “For what?” You raised your voice, fully prepared to make a scene. “Touching me without my consent or all the other douchbaggery you’re guilty of?” You snarled, using your hand to punctuate your words and ready to brawl if he didn’t back off. “Get it through your thick skull: I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.”

Though Bucky was enjoying watching you tell this asshole off, he and Natasha had gotten close enough that it felt weird to not speak. Clearing his throat, Bucky said quietly, “Hi, Y/N.”

Bucky’s voice brought you up short. You had started to give up on running into him again. To do so under these circumstances was less than ideal, but you weren’t the type to question Lady Luck.

You spun around and the smile broke on your face like daybreak, lighting you up. Bucky thought you might be the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Bucky! Hi!” You worried you were being too enthusiastic but based on the look on Bucky’s face when he’d fled, he needed the encouragement. To be fair, you tended to wear your heart on your sleeve on a good day. “I’m so glad I ran into you again. You have to let me buy you coffee this time.” You’d recognized the beautiful woman at Bucky’s side immediately and turned to greet her warmly. “Hello!”

Bucky ducked his head and shot you a shyly embarrassed smile before performing quick introductions. “Sorry. Y/N, Natasha. Natasha, Y/N.

Natasha rolled her eyes at Bucky and offered her hand to shake with a quiet smile. “Pleasure to meet you.” If you hadn’t already seen Bucky, you’d consider making a play for the gorgeous woman in front of you. It’d be quite a ride, but you were pretty sure it’d be worth it.

“Excuse me, we’re trying to have a conversation here.” James’ voice made you jump. The moment you’d seen Bucky you’d completely forgotten about the asshole you’d wasted entirely too much time on.

Your head snapped around, your mouth open to blast the bastard when Bucky replied, his voice low and dangerous. “A conversation she seems to want to escape.” His face had fallen into dark and cruel lines and he looked at James like a roach beneath his boot. To you, however, he shot a sweet smile and asked, “Would you like to have coffee with us?”

You weren’t proud of it, couldn’t explain it, but that darkly violent expression had your underwear going damp. You felt like everyone on the damn street could hear your heart pounding. “I would love to,” you replied with a delighted smile, “but would you mind giving me a minute or two? I really should deal with this.”

Bucky sneered with disdain at “this.” James glared back but said nothing. He wasn’t a fool and could tell when he was painfully outclassed. He was a fit and good-looking man, but Bucky Barnes was intimidatingly thick. He didn’t stand a chance.

Next came the cocky smirk and you were starting to get offended at the level of sexy you were required to endure. “Sure. We’ll wait over there.” Bucky and Nat passed by you and James to wait by the door to the coffee shop. They seemed far enough away to give you privacy, but with his heightened super soldier hearing he couldn’t help but overhear. Natasha overheard because Natasha always overhears. No one knows how; it just is.

“Alright.” You turned to James with a sigh. You couldn’t imagine why he was being so persistent; he hadn’t really cared about you at all. You were thoroughly done and couldn’t understand why James wasn’t. “What do you have to say that it’s worth slipping into stalker territory and has me considering a restraining order?”

James reached out, palm up, as though he expected you to put your hand in his. You grimaced at his hand as he spoke, his voice low and throbbing with emotion. You wondered how he turned it on and off like that. “I miss you,” he said, lifting his hand as though he’d touch your face.

You took a step back. “Uh-huh. What happened to what’s-her-face?”

James hand fell away when he realized you weren’t going to give in that easy. “We broke up when I realized what I’d lost with you.”

The rude snort you gave in response had both Bucky and Natasha choking back laughter. “Translation: she dumped you and now you’re bored and lonely.”

James moved closer, crowding you in to make you more aware of his body. It was his signature move as it could be used for both intimidation or seduction depending on the situation. “When did you get so cynical?”

You’d acquired an immunity to James’ signature move. You stood your ground as you replied, refusing to give a single fucking inch. “When you told me you were only with me because I was fun until something better came along.”

At that, Bucky’s eyes narrowed in fury and only Natasha’s restraining hand kept him from returning to deck the other man. Starting brawls was more Steve territory, but he’d make an exception in this case.

“I didn't mean it.” James’ eyes were limpid pools of chocolate brown and had once been your downfall. You’d acquired an immunity to that, too.

You replied with truly astringent sarcasm coating every word. “Of course you didn't.” You shot him a look rich with derision and waved your hand dismissively as you continued, “Look, this is boring and stupid so I'm gonna go have coffee with my ex-Russian assassin friends. You and I are back where we started. Get fucked, James.”

With that parting shot, you turned and walked toward said friends, both of whom were grinning at you, Natasha in approval, Bucky in relief and the first real stirrings of hope. Once the coffee shop door was closed behind you, the glee was bursting out of you like light. “Oh my god thank you! You guys just gave me the best exit line.”

Bucky was grinning like a fool at you, already utterly infatuated. Based on your ex-Russian assassins comment, you knew who he was and apparently didn’t give a fuck. “Absolutely my pleasure.”

Lucky for you, the pleasure turned out to be yours. Coffee with Bucky and Natasha was a riot, the two of them making you laugh until you laid your head on the table, tears of mirth streaming down your face. Natasha had a wicked sense of humor and she used it to tease Bucky without mercy, but with affection. He mostly teased her back, but it was clear she had the upper hand in their interactions.

After she left the two of you to go back to work, Bucky explained that her loyalty was to Steve, first and foremost, but because Bucky’s was, too, she had happily made him one of hers. You wondered at that explanation, because even you could see the infamous Black Widow had a soft spot. It occurred to you that Bucky might not see himself very clearly.

Since both you and Bucky had the day off, neither of you even considered following her lead. Two hours later, time that had flown by as Bucky kept you telling him everything about yourself, he noticed the time when his phone lit up with a text from Steve.

Couldn’t help but notice you went out for coffee three hours ago and haven’t returned. Everything okay?

“It’s Steve,” Bucky said. His pretty face was sweetly nervous as he went on. “Should I tell him I’ll be back soon, or would you like to have lunch with me?”

The next second, Bucky was struck stupid by the smile lighting up your face. You’d been smiling all morning but this one was something special, sparkling and sweet. Though you seemed completely at ease, he had been on edge, terrified that he’d end up frightening you. This smile was too beautiful, too open, too sweet. The likes of him could never inspire such a thing, let alone deserve it. He was starting to worry that he’d misheard you and when you found out who he really was you’d hate him.

“If you keep giving me options like that, you may never see Steve again.” You couldn’t help but flirt. He was too pretty and something about the dumbstruck look he was giving you made you bold. “I’d love to have lunch with you. It’ll give me a chance to hear everything about you.”

Bucky’s face fell along with his stomach and he ducked his head to hide behind his hair. The sight had the smile falling from your face. “You don’t want to hear everything.” He muttered it, but it seemed to you the pain was crystal clear.

Your voice was a gently teasing caress when you answered, and the wounded animal inside the man lifted its head warily. “Maybe not today. After all, lunch would be a first date and horror stories are generally fourth date material.” You tipped him a sly wink. “Considering the horror story, we can play it by ear.”

Bucky lifted his head a little to stare at you through his hair in disbelief. Were you… joking? If the half-smile and kindness in your eyes were any indication, you were. The only other person to make light of his past was Clint, but Clint was fucked up.

You were certain now. Bucky didn’t see himself at all clearly. Not only was he sweet, and funny, and intelligent, and easy to talk to, and you could go on all day, he was also so goddamn dreamy, you’d actually gotten lost in his eyes more than once. You were pretty sure he noticed, because he’d gotten an infuriatingly sexy smirk on his face each time you had to shake yourself out of it.

“Sergeant Barnes, I’m a fact-checker by trade and by inclination. I would never consider my due diligence done if I didn’t spend a little time with the primary source. But I don’t give a fuck about your history right now. I’d rather hear about your todays.”

As you spoke, a soft smile played around your lips. The sight had Bucky lifting his head, a spark of hope lighting in his chest. The sound of his rank and last name told him without doubt that you knew. As a matter of fact, you probably knew everything in the public record. Yet your face lit up every time you looked at him. Bucky couldn’t understand it, but couldn’t resist it, like a stray responding to a soft voice and a gentle hand. “My todays are pretty boring,” he replied, his sweet smile creeping back.

“I’m still interested.” Your expression turned sultry and you hoped he caught the double meaning behind the words. From the wicked grin he flashed, you weren’t disappointed.

“Let me text Steve back and then, how do you feel about pizza?”

You spoke seriously, without the barest hint of amusement but your eyes were twinkling. “I have very warm, deeply sensual feelings about pizza.”

Bucky’s whole face seemed to light up as he laughed out loud, his eyes squinting tight with mirth while his mouth stretched wide. You couldn’t help but laugh with him, this the most carefree you’d seen him yet.

Bucky was still chuckling as he bent over his phone. So far, so perfect, he thought. He hadn’t yet found anything to dislike about you. Somehow, you seemed to feel the same and that made him the luckiest man in New York.

Her name’s y/n and I think she has the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen.

Steve snorted when Bucky’s response came through. A girl. Typical. His face spread in an absolutely delighted smile. Nothing made Steve happier than when his friend was typical. You say that every time. 🙄

Bucky was helping you on with your jacket when his phone buzzed again. When he saw Steve’s reply, he glanced at you. With a cheeky grin, you offered your arm. Laughing again, Bucky held up a finger before tapping out an answer as quickly as possible. When he was done, he dropped his phone into his pocket and took your arm with an amused half-smile.

I can’t remember any others. And since she just agreed to have lunch with me, I’ll see you whenever she’s done with me.

Of course, it didn’t end at lunch. After a long meal punctuated by a lot of laughter and good-natured flirting, you ended up walking together, first through a nearby park, then through your favorite bookstore. Before you knew it, it was time for dinner and Bucky was asking you to join him again.

You were agreeing before you’d even fully thought about it. At this point, you’d come to a conclusion. Bucky Barnes was a fucking sweetheart. As long as he kept asking you to spend more time with him, you were going to keep saying yes. And if he kept smiling like that whenever you did, you didn’t know how you were ever going to say no.

Much, much later, after dinner, dessert, and more coffee, Bucky walked you to your door. The two of you had done everything you could to stretch the time out longer and longer, neither of you willing to part, too enthralled with the other’s company, but neither of you could think of any further excuses.

Bucky had his hands in his pockets and his head down, hiding again behind his hair as you unlocked your front door. Instead of opening it, you turned back to him, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips when you saw him blushing behind the curtain of his hair.

“Bucky,” you said, and the throaty promise in your voice had him easing forward, “it wouldn’t be too forward to kiss me at the end of our first date.”

Once more the grin broke over his face, this one pure male appreciation. “I was hoping that’s what this was.” He teased gently as his bare hand came up, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

You laughed a little breathlessly. That look, desire and humor, had you fluttering coyly at him. “It will be if you kiss me.”

Bucky smiled, but he didn’t touch you except that big warm hand cupping your cheek and tilting your face for his kiss. Your heart was beating like a drum as he eased closer, lust and excitement tangling inside you and leaving you a little dizzy. Your breath caught at the sight of Bucky’s normally arctic eyes burning like the searing blue at the base of a hungry flame as he dipped his head to close his mouth over yours.

The kiss started out soft and sweet, almost chaste, but the feel of the full, pink mouth you’d been fantasizing about for most of the day set your body ablaze. Bucky didn’t move in, however, and it seemed he held you in place with that single hand against your cheek and neck as with lips, teeth, and tongue he coaxed your mouth open. Truthfully, coaxing was not necessary as you were as eager to explore that tempting mouth as he was for yours.

Bucky was close enough you could feel the heat of his body, and between that and his heady scent of leather, tobacco, and spice your head was spinning. The taste of him on your tongue was as seductive as the way he kissed you as though your breath was the only air he needed to survive.

Somehow, that chaste hand in juxtaposition against that blazing hot kiss combined with the other sensory overload to make this the most erotic experience of your life. You weren’t certain you’d live through having sex with him. You were having a hard time convincing yourself to not drag him inside and find out.

“God,” he whispered against your mouth, his breathing ragged, “you really are perfect.” He couldn’t remember another kiss so bright and warm but also dark and hot. He’d found in your mouth the reminder of both happy sighs and wanton moans and the mixture was a dizzying combination of elation and confusion.

Your eyes fluttered open and at your breathless chuckle, his other hand, which he’d kept gloved the entire day, came up to cup your other cheek as he brushed his lips gently over yours once more.

Bucky was nearly shaking with need. He wanted more than anything to yank you against him and feast on the honey and spice he’d discovered inside the sweetest mouth he’d ever tasted. He was determined to be a gentleman, however, because you were entirely too perfect to risk scaring, no matter how fearless you seemed.

“So, first date implies a second,” he murmured. The soft rumble was unbelievably sexy and had you wondering how he sounded first thing in the morning. You didn’t normally move that fast, but lust was clouding your brain.

You knew you had a ridiculous smile on your face. What you didn’t know was its dazzling effect on Bucky, who could hardly believe you were real, the perfect mix of sexy and sweet. He snatched another kiss, unable to resist that sparkling smile.

You laughed a little and reluctantly pulled your face from his gentle hands. You held yours out in front of you palm up. “If you wanna hand me your phone I’ll put my number in it. You can shoot me a text the next time you want to see me.”

Bucky pulled out his phone and unlocked it before handing it over. He toyed with an idea while he grinned at the top of your head where it was bent over his phone. Once you’d handed it back, he stepped back, afraid if he touched you again, he’d end up pushing too far too fast and frightening you.

With a wink and a sultry “Good night,” you slipped into your apartment and leaned against the closed door, your heart pounding in happiness, excitement, and healthy lust. You were so lost in starry-eyed memories of the best first-date of your life, you jumped a little when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw an unfamiliar number.

Is it too soon to ask to see you again?

Laughing, you swung the door open, shot a hand out to grab the edge of Bucky’s jacket and dragged him inside. Maybe it was too soon. You didn’t give a fuck.

The attractive 40ish brunette in the bright red dress caught your eye and winked as you and Bucky walked into the coffee shop. Bucky was stopping to pick up the Avengers coffee order on his way back while you were on your way to work. You grinned back at her, recognizing her as the woman with the paper the first time you met Bucky all those months ago.

Outside on the sidewalk once more, you pulled Bucky off to the side and took advantage of Bucky’s full hands to take his beautiful face in yours for a kiss. Since his arms weren’t free to pull you close, maybe you could escape before you were having to sprint to avoid being late for once.

When you reluctantly pulled away for the third time from that delicious mouth, it occurred to you that you may not be blameless in these long morning goodbyes. “You’re going to be late again,” Bucky murmured against your lips, the warning weak.

You pressed your cheek to his, affection and something that felt a lot like love rising up to become an ache in your throat. In the last few months, the least favorite part of any day had become this one, when you had to kiss him goodbye. “Ask me if I give a fuck.”

Bucky turned his head to nip at your bottom lip with a quiet chuckle. “I will not. I know the answer.” It was one of the things he loved most about, your absolute refusal to care about the little shit. Too busy living on your own terms, you were a master at ignoring opinions you didn’t already value. He found it weirdly inspiring.

Bucky spotted a vaguely familiar face in his peripheral vision and smirked. You were busy nuzzling into his throat; Bucky had already cursed himself for not kissing you before he’d loaded up with drink carriers. His voice was an amused drawl as he asked, “Speaking of things you don’t give a fuck about, is that James?”

“James who?” You were humming against his skin, struggling with the rush of emotion, like fluttering wings inside your chest. Because you were cuddled against him, your face buried in his throat, you couldn’t see the downright smug grin on Bucky’s face, but James could. The other man simply turned and walked the other way.

“You really are perfect,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your hair, still frustrated by his full hands. You tilted your head back with a laugh. He’d been saying that from the beginning and it always made you melt a little. You didn’t know it was what he’d taken to saying when he wanted to tell you he loved you. He hadn’t yet gotten the courage to say it out loud.

So tenderly you could help but wonder if he was struggling with that same flutter in his chest, Bucky pressed a soft kiss to your lips and stepped back with a teasing grin. “Get goin’, doll. You’re too tempting, and I don’t want you in trouble again.”

“I like being tempting,” you replied with a flirty smile. You glanced at the time and groaned; you were gonna have to haul ass now. “See you tonight!” you called while walking backward a few steps and blowing noisy kisses. Bucky was still laughing as you turned away to start your run to work.

Bucky was still grinning when a couple of blocks away, he came around a corner to find himself face-to-face with the guy you’d dated before him. He didn’t even try to stop himself from saying what he’d wanted to for months.

“Hey buddy! I wanted to tell you: on the one hand I want to punch you in your fucking face for treating my girl like shit, but on the other if you hadn’t, she wouldn’t be my girl. So, thanks. Asshole.”

With a taunting smirk, Bucky walked around the gaping man and kept walking. Behind him he heard James’ outraged shout. Bucky neither stopped nor turned. “I’d give you the finger, but my hands are full,” he shouted back instead.

That had probably been immature and had definitely been unnecessary. Bucky didn’t give a fuck.

The End

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Venus & Leilani

Venus: Hey girl! 😘😘👋 Leilani: hiya Venus: Awh 🥺😔 how you holding up? Leilani: as expected maybe Leilani: thanks Venus: Of course, so sad! 😥😥😥 Venus: I'm totally here for you, btw Leilani: that's really nice of you Venus: Gurl, of course Venus: I'm a pretty nice person Venus: only to people who deserve it, obviously 💁 Leilani: I'm honoured 😅 Venus: You totally are 🤭 Leilani: 1st exclusive club I've been a part of, for sure Venus: That's honestly even more tragic Venus: oops 🙊 you know what I mean Leilani: 😅 Leilani: yikes Leilani: the tragedies are piling up Venus: What school did you go to before? Leilani: [the name of a school, obvs not a catholic one just standard, are we saying the ruster kids go to a fancy one cos rich and now so does she or are we keeping them #humble?] Venus: [I think you in particular need to go to a standard one to humble yourself, also you aren't smart enough to get in on your own merit so] Venus: I dated a guy who went there Leilani: oh maybe I know him Venus: He was super hot but like, so uncultured Venus: he'd never left Ireland like 🥱🥱 Leilani: I wonder if it's a coincidence that all the uncultured kids go there becos me either yet Venus: WHAT 😱😱😱 Venus: aren't you like, properly African Leilani: I've never been, I was born here Venus: oh my God that's WILD Venus: bless you Leilani: bless my parents for wanting me to have a different life, I suppose Venus: I'm in Paris as often as I can because of my daddy but we go somewhere sunny practically monthly, when the school isn't being extra 🙄 Venus: it's the only reason I stick around, honestly 😂 Leilani: he's french or he just lives there? Venus: He's American, he teaches at this AMAZING college there Venus: he's lived loads of UHMAZING places but Paris is his base now and definitely the best Leilani: what kind of accent does he have? Venus: he was from some middle of nowhere town like this, but in the US Venus: so he had to get out to live his best life Leilani: sounds like he is Venus: Totally 😘😘 Venus: he's the smartest person in his field, like EVERYONE has to go to him to know what to do Venus: hence I can't live with him because he's ALWAYS working 😩 Venus: I told him I was cool with it but he's SUPER protective of me so I have to stay here 🤷 Leilani: I know what that's like, my mum was the same Leilani: protective workaholic Venus: Poor you getting thrown into this mess Venus: ugh Leilani: Grace isn't that bad 😅 Leilani: more of a workaholic maybe but less OTT protective Venus: I guess not Venus: did you know she got stood up at the altar though Venus: would you not just lay down and DIE Leilani: me & my mum were there Leilani: so yeah Venus: 🙈 cringe Venus: we were all there honey, I can't Leilani: your bridesmaids dress was gorgeous though Venus: she can enjoy those photos 💁 Leilani: I think it'll be a long time before she's looking back at the album Leilani: longer than it's been atm Venus: DUH 😂 Venus: they'll be in the 🔥 if she's got any sense Leilani: she did re-sell her dress so maybe Venus: LOL I hope she advertised it as cursed or that woman gonna be 😤 Leilani: I'm sure she worked out why it was listed once she picked it up & saw that Grace's weight hadn't dramatically gone up or down Venus: getting dumped at the altar is next-level bad juju though it's not like she just got too excited Venus: I'd be so pissed Venus: have to sage that SO HARD Leilani: I'd be happy I got a bargain Venus: yeah, nothing says happiest day of your life like that Leilani: getting into debt for it would personally ruin the mood but you know Venus: Don't have a wedding you can't afford, obvs Leilani: yeah ideally Venus: like you can't live above your station that's just basic rules of life Venus: in all areas, tbh, not just funds Venus: like look what happened Leilani: you think he was out of her league? Venus: I can't even remember what he looked like tbh Venus: but clearly the baggage was too much regardless of how fine or not fine he was Leilani: clearly he has his own issues to do something like that Venus: Doubt it Venus: he could've bounced sooner but he still did the right thing 😂 Leilani: he should've said or done what he needed to do before it got to the altar Leilani: he had time, she was planning the wedding for like a year Leilani: maybe longer Venus: whatever, he clearly felt SO trapped by the psychoness Venus: we all know what was up Leilani: what was up was that he didn't have enough balls for the convo Venus: the defence squad is so real, chill out babes Venus: it happened, she took that L, end of story Leilani: It's unfair to blame her for him wanting out & doing it in the most cowardly way is all Leilani: she didn't deserve to be treated like that Venus: that's life, babe Venus: it's not fair Venus: if she couldn't see that coming that's on her Venus: what kind of unobservant head ass person you gotta be Venus: like I'd KNOW if my man was not feeling me 🥴🥴 Leilani: I didn't know him, I can't judge it Leilani: but I didn't foresee my dad walking out & neither did my mum Venus: big YIKES 😬 Leilani: & your dad didn't think your mum would end up keeping you Leilani: some things you can't see coming or don't want to Venus: You mean her breaking a contract? Venus: yeah, it should be illegal Venus: and you don't know what my dad knew or didn't know actually Venus: she literally took advantage of the fact he wasn't legally protected and desperately wanted me Venus: like, your point? 🤷 Leilani: my point is, dragging Grace is pretty rude Venus: She's had worse happen, as you've mentioned 🥺💔 Venus: I think she'll get over it Venus: that's if you even bothered to tell her which would be so petty, honestly Leilani: you don't know what he told her or didn't or how it affected her Leilani: maybe she won't get over it Venus: 🥱 Venus: your mom literally just died, like Venus: people have real problems, you should be the one preaching that Leilani: thanks for bringing it back up, it had slipped my mind Venus: do you like, not want to talk about her ??? Leilani: atm I don't want you to talk about Grace how you are Leilani: she's the person who's in my corner, looking after me Leilani: so yeah, I've got her back & I don't care if you think it's extra Venus: I'll talk about her however I want Venus: you're grieving and I'm trying to be nice and let you talk about it, but like, catch me letting you police me and my opinion Venus: not today, not ever, honey Leilani: say whatever you like once you've gotten away from me Leilani: I'm not trying to hear it & if I do I'm not letting it pass through unchecked Venus: As if I want to be having this conversation with you right now Venus: 😬 bigger yikes Venus: catch me trying to make you welcome at school, seriously Leilani: I can settle myself in without your help Venus: yeah, your personality is like, A++ Venus: 👏 good luck with the amount of invites you'll HAVE to turn down, damn, sis Leilani: maybe it's the grief, maybe I just don't like your personality Leilani: make up your own mind Venus: I truly do not have the time to worry about you or what you're doing Venus: you continue to think up all those what-ifs though, that's cool Venus: can be your thing Leilani: next time that it slips my mind that my mother is dead, I'm sure your opinion of me will be right there at the front Venus: okay, word of advice, milking the whole sympathy thing is not going to get you far in the long run Venus: it'll get old faster than he was running the opposite way down that altar Leilani: I don't need advice from someone who's never been here Venus: 🙄 sure babes Venus: that's some USP Leilani: it's really not Leilani: there's a really big group of us Venus: So like, get over it Venus: the levels you can't get away with being a rude ass hoe just because something bad happened to you Venus: toxicity off the charts Leilani: when I do it won't be to make you feel more comfortable Leilani: the levels it's not your place to tell me how to be when we've just met Venus: I'm not the one telling you what to say though, sis, soooooo 💁 Venus: clearly not the one who's uncomfortable am I Leilani: I said I'm not going to listen to you badmouth Grace, you can take it anywhere else & I can't stop you Venus: why are you so pressed 😂 Venus: is she checking your messages to make sure you're #grateful enough Venus: damn, ok, Angelina Jolie Leilani: I like her Leilani: that's enough reason to not want to hear it Venus: Awh Venus: big love Leilani: sure thing Leilani: I'm a big joke to you, okay then Venus: if you feel you've acted a fool, that's on you Venus: I'm unphased by this mess Leilani: no, you're trying to treat me like one, it's a very different thing Leilani: I'm not entertained or entertaining it Venus: Hoe, where??? Venus: Honestly, I'm SO curious 🤔 Venus: I offered you support and a space to talk about your mom and you've just been nothing but combative, honestly Leilani: telling me to get over it isn't supportive Venus: I'm not gonna not keep it 💯 Venus: and don't twist my words or the situation Venus: I said that was how other people would feel if you came at it all with this attitude Leilani: you have no idea where my attitude is coming from becos we don't know each other like that Venus: Why would I put my time and energy on you when you treat me like that? Venus: using your past as an excuse for bad behaviours now, no ma'am Venus: not in this house Leilani: you said I'm milking the sympathy thing when you're the one assuming everything I said here is a grief reaction Leilani: maybe I'm serving you attitude becos it's deserved Venus: so you're just like this Venus: weird flex then, babe 🤷 Venus: the luck I put out there is even more warranted Venus: cuss me out for giving you the benefit of the doubt about your foolishness, chile... Leilani: the disrespect towards your own family & entitlement you have towards being that way is what's getting you cussed out Venus: and I'm the one making assumptions Venus: 😂 Venus: Grace told you some tea and you think you're in the know now Venus: 👌👌👌 keep on that hype, waste your energy Leilani: it's all been expressed in your own words, barely sentences into this convo Leilani: your assumption was that I'd be eager to join in Venus: No, honey Venus: your assumption is that I consider them to be my family Venus: and your tone policing is literally not welcome anywhere near me Leilani: they consider you to be theirs, it should be enough of a reason not to treat them how you are Leilani: hell, human decency is that Venus: Like I said, hilarious you think you are educated on it Venus: let alone enough to lecture ME Venus: I literally got kidnapped by my father's surrogate and his partner, her brother was too cowardly to do anything about it? Venus: miss me with this nonsense, you're the one stressing on this family Venus: they love a stray, they'll accept you sis, it's all blessed Leilani: I know Grace loves you & she would never use any of your misfortunes as a way to amuse herself or anyone else, so that's what I'm speaking on Leilani: the rest is your business Venus: that's her choice? Venus: the levels I don't concern myself with what people say on me Venus: you sound mad paranoid, that's no way to live, girl Leilani: again, your advice on how I should live is unwelcome Venus: THE HYPOCRISY Venus: are you being satirical now, oh my GOD Venus: I am creased 😷😷😷😷💀 Venus: I will say whatever I want about any sad case in that family, and I can laugh at their tragic life choices, and there's 0 to be said or done about it by anyone, least of all you Venus: if they were living better lives, they'd be unphased, if they ain't, who's fault is that really, look inside not @ me Leilani: don't bring it to my door & think it won't get closed in your face, that's what has been said already Venus: 💔💔 dying to be BFFs, obviously Venus: as has been said, my kindness has been thrown in my face, that's your karma Venus: I'm good Leilani: if you think that's kindness you have your own coming Venus: SIS, focus 👏 on 👏 your 👏 own Venus: your life is super sad Venus: it won't get any better wishing ill on me Venus: 🙏 on your own karma and demons, I don't have everything but I am GRATEFUL for what I do have Venus: I'm still out here trying to help you, even though you've literally cussed me out and put lies on my name ??? Venus: point fingers at your own evils Leilani: thanks for pointing out all the necessary work I need to do Leilani: but you have your own Venus: 😂😂😂 and you get to tell me because? Venus: I've evidenced all the work I DO do Venus: you're still sat here being petty Venus: couldn't be me, God bless though Leilani: I'm grateful for what I have too & part of that is gratitude I'm not you or needing to be around you if this is how it is Venus: 😬 that's so dark-sided I feel really terrible for you Venus: you can be grateful for your good without pointing out other people's bad Venus: lowkey that's kinda the point Venus: go do some charity work ASAP, work out those thoughts and all the negative they attract in your life Leilani: I'm already the charity case as you see it but okay Venus: oof Venus: the self-pity Venus: you really think you're so, so down-trodden you can't do ANYTHING to help your fellow man? Leilani: you think I am, I can't voice what I think unless I speak directly over you atm Venus: I don't allow words to be put into my mouth Venus: not by you, not by the devil Venus: offering friendship does not imply anything about you, but a lot about my character Venus: it's actually very sad you can't see that and have to take it so negatively Venus: no wonder your life is where it is Leilani: the only thing I took negatively is what you said about Grace, how quickly you withdrew your offer of friendship becos I disagreed with you about her is what says things about you Venus: Okay, so my offer is withdrawn because SEVERAL times in this short conversation, you've attempted to tell me what I THINK, what I SAY and what I DO Venus: and no, I can't have that kind of negativity around me, my protection of myself is more important than making myself a conduit for whatever ill you're trying to spread by tone policing so violently Venus: charity has to have limits or it can get twisted by people who seek to abuse it Venus: I have to go on my instincts with this one, I am not one to ignore red flags Leilani: I'm not a charity case & you're not better than me, there's my limit Leilani: I don't want your pity dressed up as friendship & I definitely don't have room for your smugness & condescension Venus: You have to ask yourself, where this inferiority complex really comes from Venus: I've not said or implied I'm better than you, so why do you feel that so strongly you have to attack my personality to convince yourself of the fact I'm actually, much, much worse than you Venus: I'm really sad for you 😥 I wish there was something I could do but that's inner work 🙏 Leilani: you literally called me a stray, so maybe that's where I got it Leilani: not to mention how ready you are to bring up every perceived flaw in my character but also call them evils as if that's a word to be casually thrown around Venus: It's truly not about you Venus: self-obsession is a sign that you're not putting in the work Venus: a happy person does not think about themselves constantly, or think EVERYONE else is too 🙄 Venus: your behaviour towards me has been flawed and it DOES signal troubling thought patterns Venus: I'm well within my right to comment on them Venus: if you think I'm wrong, you'll have no issue continuing as you are Leilani: I'm not a happy person & I am having troubling thought patterns but that's not about you Leilani: you came into this convo knowing that & what it was about Venus: I really don't think it's cool to blame your problems on your mom's passing Leilani: I'm not feeling very cool about anything atm sorry Venus: I hope you get there 🙏🙏😘 Leilani: thanks Venus: I'll see you at school then 💓 Leilani: yeah

[kyvir]

They were best friends, denying for years what they both really wanted. When a little teasing turns serious, feelings are revealed. There’s an accident, a long road of recovery and a love that only becomes stronger over time. To be together always, that’s all either of them ever wanted. 

Continuation to A Walk in the Park (SasuSaku)

To Walk Alongside You (BoruSara)

Rating: M 

Warning: excessive cursing and eventual smut

Genre: Romance/ Friendship 

Chapter Three- Just Friends?

Previous Chapter

I closed the door to my bedroom and just stood there, palming my face in frustration before running my hands through my hair. I’d never done anything so foolish before. Honestly, it just happened. I was enjoying her company so much and teasing her had always been one of my favorite things to do… but I’d definitely gone to the deep end.

The way she felt under me… so small and soft. The way she looked at me with those wide obsidian eyes… and the way she blushed suggested she liked it just as much as I did. I loved getting a reaction out of her, but all I’d done was confuse the hell out of both of us.

She probably didn’t know what to think. I just wanted to tease her… but instead I’d crossed the line. I was coming onto her strongly. Too strongly. I shouldn’t have liked it so much. She was my best friend for fucks sake. Another mistake like that and I could ruin our relationship. I didn’t want that… Sarada… she has always been so precious to me.

Losing her wasn’t an option.

Slowly, I padded my way down my hallway and back into the living room. I couldn’t get her words out of my head. She liked my tattoo… a lot it seems. I had her in such a daze that she was spitting words she couldn’t even remember and I would never know if she really meant it… if she thought that of me… or if she just said it.

I got back to the couch and plopped down on it, laying down with a sigh. I knew she wasn’t mad at me… if anything she was disappointed with the way I acted after the fact… But, the truth is I didn’t know what to say or do and I was pissed. Pissed that she’d finally voiced some form of attraction for me and then acted as if she didn’t realize it.

I was hot and frustrated and regretting the whole incident more and more by the second. I tugged my shirt off and threw it on the floor and then sat up to remove my belt. I could sleep in my jeans well enough. My house was fairly big, but I only had one bed. All my extra rooms were bare. I’d sleep on the couch and let her have my room for the night. I owed her that much.

Laying on my side, I stared at the wall wishing I could take back what happened… even if I enjoyed it as much as I did. It was wrong… She wasn’t my girl. She was my best friend. I shouldn’t of had to keep reminding myself of this… it had been a fact for the entirety of my life.

Come morning, I was certain I’d be over it. Things would return to normal between us and I could get back to denying that I really, really wanted her. That’s how it should be. She meant enough to me that I wouldn’t dream of risking what we already had to try for more. I needed her in my life, no matter how I could have her.

But feeling this way… could I really and truly hold back?

As I laid on the couch, wallowing in my misery, Sarada finished her shower and had returned to the living room to stand before me in what seemed like no time at all. I opened my eyes to look at her, noticing the way my T-shirt was far too big for her and how baggy the pajama bottoms were. I couldn’t believe that someone could look so fucking adorable in clothes so big.

Her eyes were looking to the side, away from me and her glasses weren’t there. She was always beautiful, but when I could really see her face bare… she was even more-so. Her hair was too wet for my liking and she once again had my blanket draped around her. I reached out and grabbed the cover, snatching it off of her and taking it for myself.

“Go dry your hair more and sleep in my room.” I told her, covering up and closing my eyes.

“You should sleep in your room.” She insisted. “It’s your house. Besides, I was growing rather attached to that blanket.”

“No way in hell I’m letting you sleep on the couch. Now get to bed. If you really want the blanket, take it. I’ll be fine.”

“Tch. So stubborn.” She huffed. “Go sleep in your bed before I fling my wet hair on you.”

“Go dry your wet hair before I make you.” I demanded, opening one eye to peek at her.

She had an eyebrow raised in challenge, tilting her head towards me. “I’ll give you five seconds before I’m making it rain.”

“Sarada… don’t make me get up.”

“Five . . . . four . . . . . three-”

Unable to believe she was actually counting down, I bolted off the couch and scooped her over my shoulder faster than she could think of her next number. Slow ass woman. I rolled my eyes as she started kicking her legs and continued to carry her back to my room.

“You brute! Stop manhandling me!” She hissed, flinging her wet hair all over my back in spite.

“You’re impossibly annoying.” I groaned, finally making it to my room and then my bathroom. I grabbed the towel she’d just used and then set her to her feet and dumped it on her head. “Dry your fucking hair.”

She took it off her head and rolled up the towel, preparing to hit me with it. “Now I’m gonna have to hurt you.” She threatened.

I rolled my eyes and snatched the towel right out of her hands so quickly that all she could do was gawk at me. I unrolled the towel and reached towards her, drying her hair myself since she had to be such a pain in my ass. She certainly got that from her dad.

“You jerk.” She grumbled. “Taking advantage of my blind state. Next time you won’t win so easily.”

“Blind or not… you’re too slow.” I smiled then, finishing with her hair. It was still damp but much less wet so I was pleased enough. “Now get into bed and don’t make me have to carry you again.”

She puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms, reminding me of how she was when we were little. “No.”

“So you do want me to carry you?” I asked, not minding it in the least.

“I want you to sleep in your bed.” She said. “I’m not some delicate flower, I can sleep on the stupid couch.”

“So you’re saying you want to sleep with me? Because you’re not sleeping on the fucking couch. Do you not understand me?”

“Why are you so difficult?” She said, glaring at me.

“The only one being difficult here is you. When a man offers you his bed, you take it. No… When I offer you my bed you take it, if another man does it, call me.”

She fought back a smile at that. “I can handle myself just fine, thanks.”

I shook my head, my frustration with her growing. “I’ve felt your punch… you can not handle yourself against a grown man so stop trying to act like a badass.”

“I am a bada-” She started but didn’t finish the word. “I’m bad.”

My annoyance flew out the window and I burst into laughter. “Yeah you’re bad alright… Now please, go to bed.”

She sighed and smiled at me tiredly. “Are you sure you’re okay on the couch? Last chance.”

“I’m more than sure, okay… now get to bed. I’ll be just fine.”

“Alright, I guess I can let you win this once.” She said and got under the blanket. “Just don’t forget who's the boss here.”

“You must be drunk.” I scoffed, but couldn’t contain my grin. “Goodnight, Sarada.” I said, walking to the door.

“Goodnight, underling.” She giggled.

That woman… I don’t think I’d ever know what to do with her. Nobody was as impossible as she was. Nobody.

Once I got back to the couch, I laid down and covered myself up with the blanket again. I closed my eyes, smelling her on the blanket as I drifted off to sleep. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stayed up so late. It was a good thing Sarada didn’t have work in the morning. I would definitely need to get to the shop… but I supposed going a little later for one day wouldn’t hurt me.

...

The scent of bacon frying was what woke me. I was still tired as I peeled my eyes open and sat up, stretching and yawning. Bacon… what the hell. That’s when it hit me. Sarada came to my home. She stayed the night. She was fucking cooking in my kitchen. I was wide awake and on my feet at the realization and in a matter of seconds, I was standing in the kitchen watching her as she stood at the stove with messy hair and my too big T-shirt and pajama bottoms.

This was something I could picture myself looking forward to… in another life maybe. The friend zone was one fucked up place to be… but I couldn’t say I wasn’t happy just being there. I sighed at my wayward thoughts and walked to the counter, taking a seat on one of the stools. I propped my elbow on the bar and rested my face in my hand as I watched her. She still didn’t know I had walked in.

She was actually humming to herself, and always had been a morning person. “Don’t you . . . .forget about me . . . Don’t, don’t, don’t babe. . .”

My brows rose at hearing her sing. There wasn’t enough morning goodness in the world for me to try that. Her voice was nice though, even if the song she was singing was annoying as hell. I found myself smiling softly as I continued to watch her lazily, ready to eat breakfast with her.

My house had never felt so lively.

Her voice suddenly got louder as she danced in place, swinging her hips “I say nah, nah nah nah nahhh, nah nah nah nahhh, nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nahhhhh!”

“Ahem.” I faked a cough, wanting her to know she did have an audience just in case she wanted to keep it to herself… or would prefer me to leave.

“Kyaaa!” She squealed and whipped around, her glasses almost falling off. “What the heck, Boruto?! You scared the crap out of me!”

“I maintained a distance.” I shrugged, feeling as if I did the right thing. “You’re so lively this morning… or are you like that every morning? I’ve never heard you sing like that.”

“Ahh, well . . .” She said, pushing up her glasses. “I sing sometimes, when I have a song stuck in my head. The dancing, however, pretend you never saw that.”

“Sarada… I used to go to your dance recitals… I’ve seen you dance many times. I actually quite like it, and the singing so you can continue.”

She grinned. “No, I’m out of practice, I haven’t danced in a while.” She said. “But I might be willing to give an encore since you lost this morning.”

“Could’ve fooled me… and lost what?”

Her grin turned into a smirk. “It took you long enough to wake up slowpoke.”

“What the hell, that’s not losing. Getting more sleep is winning so you lost again.” I laughed. This woman knew nothing.

“Nope, a lose is a lose.” She said and turned back around and returned to singing. “Don’t you forget about me because I beat you in your sleep.”

I got up with a drawn out exhale. “I’m going to leave you to it and have a shower now.”

“Alright, breakfast should be ready by the time you get out.” She said, flipping the bacon.

I nodded on my way out, not really knowing what to think about Sarada singing, dancing and cooking in my kitchen. It was probably the first and last time… but still, it was happening.

I took a quick shower, not wanting to waste any time. I went through my closet to find a pair of jeans and then got a T-shirt out of my dresser. Once I was dressed I went back to the kitchen. It was quiet now, no singing going on. I found Sarada sitting at the bar, two plates fixed. She was waiting for me.

Walking around to join her, I sat happily and gave her a smile. “Thanks for cooking. That bacon probably would have gone bad if you hadn’t.”

“You’re welcome, Mom always taught me not to waste food.” She smiled back. “And I made a bit more in case you’re really hungry.”

“I am, so thanks.” I told her before starting to eat. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had breakfast and honestly, I’d forgotten how good it was. I finished my entire plate before she ate a third of hers. “That was delicious.” I admitted happily before getting to my feet and only then did I drain my glass of water.

“Did you get enough? I don’t mind making more.” She offered.

“Oh, I’m stuffed.” I promised. “You just finish yours so we can get going. I need to get to the shop as soon as I can… and hopefully I won’t have to see your dad today.”

Sarada laughed at that. “Don’t worry, Mom has him MIA, she called me earlier.”

“And that’s why I love her.” I grinned.

“Me too.” She agreed, trying to finish the rest of her food. “I hope you know I’m wearing these home. Unless you’d rather have me steal a different shirt.”

“You can keep those.” I said, smiling at the fact that she wanted to steal them at all. “I don’t mind.”

“Good answer.” She teased. “I’ll be ready as soon as I fix my hair.”

I nodded. “You don’t have to rush. Eat your food at your own pace. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Boruto Uzumaki?” She asked. “My hot shot not in a rush, must be my lucky day.”

“I’ll leave the fast paced times to when I’m behind the wheel. For now, I’m in no rush.”

Once Sarada finished her food and fixed her hair we went and got in my car. She looked ridiculously cute in my too big clothes as she sat in my passenger seat and I started the car. The ride to the park would be too short… And I would hate to see her go.

Even if I would see her again in just a bit.

“So are we going to the park later… Or are you going to show up at the shop and nag me?” I asked as I pulled up to park next to her car.

“The shop.” She answered. “I’ll probably give Junior a ride if he isn’t there already.”

“Alright. Bring me lunch then. I'll be starving by the time your slow ass gets there.” I grinned darkly at her.

She tugged a blonde strand. “Whatever, hot shot. I’m tempted to drive slow on purpose.” She warned, looking smug.

“It wouldn't surprise me at all.” I snickered. “See you then.”

“Alright, bye.” She smiled and got out of the car, waving as she left.

I watched her get in her sports car and fire up the engine. She smirked at me before backing out and I just shook my head before leaving the park myself. I would never know what to do with that woman.

When I made it to the shop I thanked the heavens that nobody else was there. Unfortunately for me before I even made it inside I heard the loud rumble of Sarada’s dad’s car. I cursed, heart skipping a beat as I feared him kicking my ass for her staying at my place last night.

Why me… I didn't dare turn around as he pulled up. I walked on inside, hoping that somehow he would just decide to leave.

I walked in to check on some parts that I'd ordered. They were all there. I was glad. It was a nice day and most of them were simple to change out so I was going to do what work I could outside of the garage.

My breath hitched as I heard the door open behind me and I made myself turn around, cringing at the sight of mister high and mighty.

“Morning.” I greeted a bit bitterly.

He rolled up his sleeves and grunted. “Hn.”

Damn… He's definitely here to kick my ass. “Come to help me change out these parts?” I asked nervously.

“I came to show you how it’s done.” He stated. “Though I will admit, it isn’t as bad as I suspected it would be. Your father has done way worse.”

“You already inspected it? And you both need to chill the fuck out. I didn't wreck it.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow at me. “I need to what?” He asked, daring me to say it again. “You can damage a car severely without wrecking it. Be more careful.”

I rolled my eyes then. “Cut me some slack. It was my valve covers. I'm just tuning up today. That's it.”

“Really?” He mused. “So you didn’t leave it running in the shop?”  

“W-what… n-no… I'd never do that.”

He smirked. “Of course not.” He came closer and the smirk faded. However, the look in his eyes softened. “You’re a smart kid, Boruto and you have good instincts. Yet your cockyness and pride could cost you one day, I should know. Listen to what Naruto and I tell you and learn from our mistakes.” He said and then sighed. “I swear you and Junior are going to give me gray hairs.”

I sighed then. “I'm sorry, ya know… I try my best. Junior though… I have nothing to do with that.”

Sarada’s dad shook his head, smiling. “Yes, he most certainly doesn’t look up to you like an elder brother. I suppose I should be grateful you aren’t like Itachi. Now that would be a nightmare.”

“Who says he doesn't look up to me like an older brother… sorry to disappoint you old man… But the kid idolizes me.” I smirked as I started grabbing as many parts as I could carry. “I don't think that’s a bad thing… Even though you might. And you know your brother is the shit.”

“Tch.” He huffed as he joined me. “I never should’ve agreed to let him babysit.”

“I haven’t seen him in a while. Guess he gave up on us since we got old and he had his own kids.”

“He’ll be around.” He smiled. “He always is, even when you preferred he wasn’t.”

“Just like you.” I muttered under my breath.

He smirked again but didn’t spare me a glance. “And I always will be you damn brat.”

“Don't I know it.” Fucking old man sure hadn't lost his hearing.

We carried everything outside and got to work. As much as I complained about it, I'd always loved having Sarada's dad's help. He was brilliant and skilled beyond my imagination. He had taught me everything I knew about mechanics. My dad was a racer… But he couldn't work on his own car for shit.

Between the two of us, it didn’t take too long to finish changing the parts. My car was finally back to the state it used to be, maybe a little better, not that I would admit it. Sarada and Junior came in just and we were wiping our hands, the smell of food calling me.

“Hey, Dad.” Junior smiled and then smirked at me. “Sup, Boruto. You gonna help me with my car next?”

“You totaled your car dumbass. Best thing you can do is get another one… or talk your dad into giving up his. You know his car is badass.”

Junior looked to his dad hopefully. “Well, that isn’t a bad suggestion.” He said, not asking him directly.

“And have you wreck that too? I don’t think so.” His dad said, tone firm. “You’re even more reckless than Boruto.”

“You could give it to me.” Sarada chimed in. “I’m a safe driver.”

“Your slow ass don't deserve such a ride.” The damn woman must have lost her mind. No way her dad would give her his prized mustang.

“Out of the three of you, you are the best candidate, Sarada.” He said and she smirked at me.

Junior groaned. “What the hell, Dad, you can’t be serious.”

“Only time will tell.” He mused and checked the time. “I have to go now, you kids behave yourselves.”

“Maybe we will… Maybe we'll steal your car without you knowing and take it for a ride… Who knows with us convicts.” I teased. It would be a fucking dream to drive that car.

Sarada’s dad chuckled darkly. “I’d like to see you try, brat.” He said and then left, giving a small wave over his shoulder.

“Your fucking dad… he thinks he's such hot shit but he is waaaaay past his prime. Bastard.”

Junior tossed his head back and laughed. “Oh I’d pay to see you take him on. It’d be funny as hell to watch him kick your ass.”

“I'm not my dad. He may have been hot shit back in the day but these days are mine. He knows it. You know it… And you-” I turned to Sarada, leaning towards her suggestively. “You damn sure know it.”

She blushed furiously and shoved my shoulder, speechless. No doubt she was thinking about last night.

Junior shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t wanna know what that’s about. If you ever decide to back it up, let me know so I can record you getting your ass beat.”

“That would never happen. I bet your dad would be too scared to race me anyway.” I laughed. “Let's eat. You guys took forever. I'm starving.”

“She was driving.” Junior told me and his sister smacked his arm.

“We did not take forever.” Sarada insisted as we all sat down and she passed us our food.

“Yes you did. But I expected it. I worked too hard today.” I sighed. It was true, but the harder I worked, the happier I was.

Sarada tilted her head at this. “Really? Were you able to finish?”

“Yep. We got it all done!” I grinned.

She grinned back and unwrapped her burger. “Good.”

“Hey, Boruto, do you think you could help me decide what car to get?” Junior asked. “Since mine’s beyond repair, I’m not sure if I want the same model. It couldn’t take the hit.”

“Hmm… if I were you I would go with a mustang like your dad's. They're built for dumbasses like you.”

Junior smiled despite the teasing. “Takes one to know one, asshole.”

“Hey… you guys wanna stay at my place tonight?” I asked, wanting the company. And if Junior was around… I would have to behave. At least for the most part.

“Hell yeah.” Junior said before taking a bite.

Sarada nodded her head. “Sure thing, but we’ll have to go back home and get some clothes.”

“Or . . .” Junior started, swallowing. “You could get the clothes and I can ride with Boruto to his house.”

“Yeah! Me and Junior will go grab some pizza and shit.”

She gave us an even look. “I don’t like the idea of you two getting into trouble, but I guess I could go home by myself.” She said. “Just please don’t go racing all over town, we don’t need the police complaining again.”

“The police don't even roll their eyes anymore when I pass by. They fucking love me.” I laughed as I finished up my burger. “Let's get going Junior… or… Sarada you better get a head start.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’ll see who gets there first.”

“Oh, Sis.” Junior said, clutching his heart with eyes full of pity.

I laughed loudly at her but said nothing as I jogged to my car. “Hurry Junior. We'll have to speed like hell to beat Sarada.”

“Oh, shit! Let’s go then!” He yelled as he quickly followed me.

We got in my car and I revved the engine to life, letting it roar before taking off so fast I knew for sure Sarada would give me hell later.

“So, Saturday. How are you feeling?” Junior asked. “Ready to give them hell?”

“Oh hell yeah.” I grinned. “Mitsuki is in the race too. He's pretty good so I think I'll be entertained.”

Junior huffed. “Hn . . . you have a point, but there's something off about that guy. I can’t stand him.”

“He's weird but cool. I like him since he likes me so much even though we always race against each other.” I sped along, cruising through the streets wide open.

“Sill don’t like the guy.” Junior said stubbornly. “But I’ll play nice.”

I laughed. “Think we can ride by the lake then get the pizza and get home before Sarada?”

“For sure.” He smirked, eyes lighting up in amusement. “Might even have time to get some dessert.”

“That's the damn truth.” We laughed together as I turned off to get on the highway and really air out the car.

Every now and then me and Junior would take a ride to the lake. But it had been a while since we had time so today, I was making time.

It was only a twenty minute ride and for me only ten, so we made it there and got out to skip some rocks across the water like we always did. I called and ordered the pizza while we were there, getting a bundle deal with some sodas and brownies too.

When we were kids Junior seemed so young and I didn't bother with him often… But as we got older, he never seemed too far behind me and he’d become one of my closest friends… But nobody was closer to me than Sarada.

“Race you to the car.” I said as I hung up my phone and slipped it in my pocket.

“Oh, you’re on.” He ginned. “Get ready to--wait, what the hell is that?” He asked, looking behind me.

I turned around curiously and he ducked out, taking off at a frightening speed.

“Fucking bastard!” I charged after him, but he still beat me. “Damn it… you never been slow like your sister.”

“With someone like you to keep up with? Never.” He said cockily. “Better watch your back, I’ll beat you on the streets one of these days.”

We got in the car and the atmosphere turned a bit cooler. “Do you think… your dad is going to let you start racing when you turn eighteen?... I mean… After what happened… It's been on my mind.”

Junior started playing with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t know.” He said honestly. “He was pissed. Mom too.”

“I know… And it scares me because you love the lifestyle so much. You've been at the shop everyday for your whole life and that shit had to happen right when you were so close to being able to race for real. If they take it away from you… I just don't know.”

He smiled sadly and pushed my arm with his. “Don’t go crazy on me.” He teased, trying to lighten the mood. “If I want to get out there though, I’ll have to prove to Dad that I can race and be safe but . . . .” His face dropped and he looked vulnerable, something he only did with those he saw as family. “I’m not gonna lie . . . . I’m scared I won’t be behind a wheel again.” He whispered and in moments like these it reminded me how young he was.

I hit the brakes so hard we both got whiplash and in a matter of seconds I’d pulled over on the side of the highway.

“Get out.” I ordered just before swinging my own door open and getting out myself.

Junior did as I said, wide eyed and confused. “W-what the hell, Boruto?”

“You're driving.” I said pointedly, refusing to take any arguments.

“No way.” He said in disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.” I promised as I got in the passenger seat and waited for him to get in.

He dashed over the driver’s side and got in, smiling wide as he looked at me. “I can’t believe this.”

“Don't be a slow ass either. We can't let your sister beat us. Onward to the pizza place!”

He laughed and floored the gas pedal. “Hold on!”

“That’s what the hell I'm talking about! Whew!”

With the windows down and him speeding through traffic, we were both having the time of our lives. We made it to the pizza place just as the pizza came out and we were home for a whole ten minutes before Sarada walked in.

“Tch, how did you two get here already?” She scoffed, carrying two bags.

“We only went around the whole damn state before coming here. Proves how slow you are.”

Junior tilted his head. “Did we only go around once? I’m pretty sure it was twice.” He mused.

“Oh, shut it you two!” She hissed as she placed the bags down. “I was helping Mom with some things before I left.”

“Sure you were.” I grinned as I carried the pizza boxes into the living room and sat them on the coffee table. “Junior pick out a movie. Your sister's taste is shit.”

“It is not.” She said. “Boruto was just a scaredy cat-- couldn’t handle it.”

Junior raised an eyebrow at me.

“What… I don't like those stupid ass movies.” I shrugged and went back to the kitchen for a beer.

I came back, popping the top as I sat on the couch and opened the box of pizza to grab a slice. Junior was still skimming through the movies as Sarada sat next to me and Junior finally picked a movie.

When Sarada sat stock still I bumped my shoulder against hers. “You better eat before me and Junior take it all.”

“Bottomless pits.” She teased, smiling.

Junior took one of the beanbags and grabbed a slice of pizza, spotting my beer. “Can I have one of those?” Sarada clicked her tongue, but he ignored her.

“Boy you better sit your young ass down.” I scoffed, giving him the eye that said he knew better than to ask me something like that around Sarada. “Fuck I look like.” I grumbled before chugging my beer.

He read the look loud and clear, playing along with a scowl. “Tch. I’m not that young, you don’t have to reject me every time I ask.”

“Of course he does, don’t make him get in trouble just because you want to be rebellious.” Sarada scolded and then turned to me. “Thank you, Boruto. At least I know one of you can be responsible when I’m not around.”

Her words felt like a knife to my heart because I was guilty of letting the bastard have a drink every now and then when it was just the two of us.

“Don’t act like you’re the perfect child, Sis. We both know you got that belly button piercing when you were sixteen.” Junior smirked.

“You did… What?” I croaked. I'd never seen such a thing… But then I'd never seen her bare belly either. “You have one of those, Sarada?”

She blushed and glared down at her brother. “I do.”

I killed my beer and turned to her with cold eyes. “Show me.”

She stiffened beside me and Junior paused the trailers. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” He said and left.

“And why would I do that?” She asked, not meeting my gaze.

“I showed you my tattoo.” I huffed, meaning I would see what she was hiding one way or another.

“Hmmm, no. That was your ‘wound’ remember?” She reminded, slightly smiling.

Damn woman… she was slow as fuck but not forgetful in the least. “But then you seen my tattoo. So fucking show me.”

She pushed up her glasses and finally looked at me. “Not happening, hot shot.” She grinned.

We would see about that. I finished my pizza and got up to trash my empty can and get another. I scowled at the refrigerator for a moment as I thought about Sarada and her fucking attitude. One of these days I would set her straight.

On my way back to the living room Junior came around the wall, nearly running into me. “The hell?” I shrieked quietly.

He chucked before giving me a suggestive look. “I’ll turn in early tonight, so please keep it in your pants until then. I really don’t want to see that.”

I popped him in the back of the head. “Don't think about your sister that way. Think she would let my dick come out my pants… Bitch please.”

I wish.

“Ow.” He hissed quietly. “Don’t take your sexual frustration out on me. I don’t want to see her like that, that’s why I’m saying this shit. If you can’t see the way she looks at you, then you really are a dumbass.”

“She's my best friend. You're an idiot. And I don't have sexual frustration. I could have any girl I want.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Boruto. When you decide to stop living in the land of denial, come talk to me. I’ve got your back.”

“Are you playing the movie or what?” I snapped, ready to end this conversation.

“Hn.” He grunted, leading the way back to the living room.

I sat back next to Sarada and grabbed another slice of pizza. She was eating a slice, her second one and staring ahead at the TV while junior finally played the movie.

“Oh a comedy… Good.” I mumbled with my mouth full.

We settled in and watched the movie, laughing our asses off half the time. We ate as much as we could and I downed a total of six beers. Before the movie came to an end, Junior got up with a yawn.

“I’m out, see you two in the morning.” He said and gave me a pointed look.

“Hey, you pulling out the air mattress or what?” I asked knowing damn well he wasn't getting in my bed.

“I’m the guest Boruto, of course I’m taking the bedroom.” He said as if I asked a stupid question. “You can sleep with me, Sis. Or not.” He added, giving me another look before leaving.

I couldn't believe his ass. I wanted him to come just to keep me in check and he was throwing my ass to the wolves. As soon as he was gone I forgot about the movie and turned to Sarada.

“Pull up your shirt.”

“Huh?” She breathed, completely off guard.

“You heard me. Strip it.” I ordered.

Sarada picked up the blanket over the couch and wrapped it around herself. “It isn’t a big deal, I don’t know why you’re so determined to see my piercing.”

“Because… I've never seen one.” I lied lamely.

She gave me a small smile. “Really now.”

“Yeah… So show me.” I said before asking, “Please.”

“Aw, poor thing.” She cooed and slowly moved the blanket. “I’m only going to show you once.” She warned as her hands took hold of the hem of her shirt.

I held my breath as she pulled it over her belly button, a dark purple butterfly piercing shining in the light.

I breathed in slowly, my eyes taking in the gem and her soft creamy skin. “That's sexy as fuck.” I said loud and clear before meeting her widening eyes. “Yeah… you heard me. I said that it's sexy. As. Fuck.”

She blushed hard and put her shirt back down, dropping her gaze to my chest. “So, uh, so is your tattoo.” She said quietly.

It was my eyes that widened then. “So now you can say it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, confused.

“You said it before…” I trailed off.

Her face drew up in thought for a moment before she gasped. “You mean I said that out loud?!” She squeaked, despite saying it just now.

“Yeah you did… And then pretended like you didn't.”

“Is that . . . is that why you were upset?” She asked.

I turned away from her then. “No.” I lied.

“Well . . . regardless . . . I’m admitting it now.” She whispered.

I don't think she’d ever had me speechless before… But it took me a moment to reply. “But why… Why admit it now?”

“You admitted it first, so I wanted to too.”’ She defended. “Shouldn’t I have?”

“Actually… you admitted it first… then denied it.”

Sarada puffed out her cheeks. “I mean to say it out loud.”

“What the hell… you said it out loud the first time too.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

I clicked my tongue at that. “I already know that… but that’s not the point. You said it either way. Then you had to act like a scared ass and be all ‘say what?’.”

“Tch!” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

A smirk found its way to my lips. “We should compare our sexy bodies.” I suggested, wiggling my brows at her.

She raised a brow at that. “Are you trying to say you’re better looking than I am?”

“Hmm.” I took a moment to pretend like I was actually thinking about it. “It’s hard to say… I only seen a small part or yours, whereas you seen me half naked.”

“Boruto Uzumaki, you better not be suggesting what I think you are.” She said, smirking back. “Does your teasing know no bounds?”

“Who said I was teasing? And I can’t help that you’re such a scared ass. I’d show you all of me in a heartbeat… every last inch.”

Her smirk faltered. “You would not.”

“You really think that?” I cocked a brow, hoping she’d try me.

“I do.” She said confidently, though her cheeks were still red.

“Okay then.” I laughed as I tugged off my shirt and then stood, my hands going to unbuckle my belt without hesitation.

Her eyes widened. “Wait!” She said, taking hold of my hands. “I’m definitely not ready for that.”

“You sure about that?” I asked, looking down at her hands that were on mine as I held my belt. “Looks to me like you want to do it yourself.”

“You are teasing me.” She pouted and then got a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Two can play at this game.” She said and pushed my hands out of the way, unbuckling my belt.

“If you think I’m gonna stop you, you’re sadly mistaken.” I murmured, wishing like hell she’d follow through.

“Really?” She asked and threw my belt to the floor, her hands now moving to the button of my jeans.

“Damn right. Take them off. Faster.”

She bit her lip and unbuttoned them, not hesitating to pull down the zipper. “Do your boxers still have little race cars on them like when we were younger?”

I smirked at that. “Take off my pants and see for yourself.”

Sarada got off the couch and stepped closer. She slowly pulled my jeans past my hips and let them fall the rest of the way, her darks eyes never leaving mine, sparking with mischief.

“Now this is a whole other level of sexy.” I grinned darkly at her, my eyes narrowing on her.

Her blushed deepened and she finally looked down, taking in my glory. “Right, No race cars.” She squeaked.

“Nope. Alright now, you gotta strip off some too. Then you can see the rest.” I chuckled.

She scowled to cover up her embarrassment and shoved my chest, pushing me back onto the couch. “I would say keep your pants on, but well . . . ” She sassed, hands on her hips. “You really wanna keep challenging me, Boruto?”

“No, I want to check you out… I mean look at me. Don’t you like what you see… I want to have the same pleasure.”

“I’m not feeding your ego.” She said and took off her glasses. “Hold these.”

I took her glasses and tossed them on the beanbag behind me before leaning down so my lips were close to her ear. “Come on now… Don’t make me have to strip you myself. Though, I can’t say I’d mind.”

“You strip me and I’ll punch you again.” She threatened and let her hands travel to the hem of her shirt. “Don’t make fun of me either.”

“Make fun of you?” I sputtered. “I promise that is the last thing you have to worry about.”

She nodded and lifted the shirt over her head, revealing her upper body and black bra. My eyes raked over her greedily. She was shaped so perfectly, beautiful curves. I wanted to touch her soft skin, kiss it even. That butterfly caught my eyes again and I stared at it for a moment before looking lower.

“The pants too.” I croaked out, my voice having deepened just at the sight of her.

I didn’t know what the hell we were doing… but I sure as hell didn’t want it to end.

“I’m getting there.” She breathed, all the blood in her body having gone to her face considering how long she’s been blushing.

She unbuttoned her pants and pulled down the zipper, eyes down cast. Then she shimmied out of them and they dropped to the floor. My eyes locked on her black panties and I suddenly couldn’t find my breath. Sarada was really standing before me in nothing but her underwear and she looked too fucking good. Her body was perfect and so was she. I enjoyed gazing at her for much longer than I should have, but not as long as I would have liked.

“Black huh?” I mused, my blue eyes heated as they continued to take her in. “You just keep getting sexier.”

“So I am the better looking one?” She mused, most likely to distract herself.

I nodded slowly, still shamelessly checking her out. “Damn right you are. I never stood a chance.”

She smiled at that. “Do you ever?”

“Guess not… I mean here I am practically naked and you’re not even checking me out.” I sighed.

“Maybe if you gave me back my glasses, I would.” She said, holding out her hand.

“Damn… no wonder I lost, you can’t even see what’s right before you.” I turned quickly to grab her glasses and carefully placed them on her face. “How about now?” I grinned.

Her eyes slowly trailed down before coming back up, just as slowly. “It’s-” She broke off in a high pitched voice and cleared her throat. “It’s alright.”

I laughed and bent down to grab my T-shirt and tossed it onto her head. “Put this on and let’s watch another movie before Junior catches us being a couple of idiots.”

“You’re the idiot.” She giggled, but did as she was told.

We sat on the couch together, watching a second movie that was a slow burn romance from hell. The last thing I needed to see-- with Sarada resting against me in nothing but her underwear and my too big T-shirt and me in my briefs. I was laying back on the couch lazily, my arm behind her which is how I always sat when we were this close. Strangely enough, being with her like this didn’t feel awkward or too intimate. It felt normal. This is how we were… and I was perfectly content with us being just like this.

[gunhandsam]

I forgot my birthday.

I'm thirty now.  My birthday was a few months ago, and I spent it away from the only person I've ever truly cared about.  I had tried going home, to our home, just to check on things.  Maybe rest, take in the fleeting hints of her scent in the sheets and hope for a pleasant dream or two.

I couldn't even step on the tattered welcome mat, let alone open the door. My gut heaved as my hand reached out for the knob and threatened to reject what little food I had managed to choke down that morning.  My bones ached with a constant cold and dull throb, somewhat like the after effects of an adrenaline dump.  Fingers sliding over the worn metal conjured up memories of the two of us, of her, strolling home after a day of wandering or a night at the drive-in.  The contentment as she pressed against me, my arm over her shoulder or hand in hers, the giggling and teasing and smirking as we both hurried out of our clothes, perhaps aided by the other.  It was all too much, the memories crashing over me in waves, threatening to break me down and leave me crumbled on her step.

So, naturally, I determined the best course of action was to crawl into my little hole outside of town and treat myself to a swift libation.  Or several.

I mean, that's ok, isn't it?  It's not the Prospector.  Emma asked me to stop going there so often as apparently people were talking, and while I personally could care less of what some teetotaler thinks of me; their prudish thoughts of judgement and contempt fired from their eyes as they looked down at us less wholesome people, sight of us skittering in the dark obscured by their upturned noses, I still promised her I would spend less time in the local saloon.  

I promised her a lot of things.

Like... oh, I promised I'd keep her safe for example. 

That went well.

As did my decision to drink rapidly and heavily on an rebellious stomach and minimal sleep.

I found this strange.  I'm a well seasoned professional, after all.  One little bottle shouldn't put me on the floor, something is amiss.  I managed to claw my way across the concrete floor towards the bunk beds, when I heard a strange sound.  Something was gurgling... was it raining outside?  The previous owners of this little bunker had cobbled together some piping to gather rainwater and funnel it down into some cisterns, and if it rained hard enough, you could hear it.  This was different though, it felt more... direct. Focused.

More... personal?

Oh.

Well, that's different.

"Come closer.  Sit."

I was reasonably certain I was alone, as nobody really knows about this place... well, nobody alive anyway, and I distinctly recall being on my own when I entered and unscrewed my belated gift.  I was also in no condition to fight, so I did as the disembodied voice instructed.  Don't get me wrong; I can shoot fairly well drunk, but this was different.  All I was able to do was haul myself across the cold floor and slump against a steel bed frame.

"I meant on the bed.  But that is alright.  Should you stand, you may fall again and injure yourself.  And nobody knows about this place, correct? Nobody to come and help you?"

That voice was so familiar, and my head rang as I tried to pin it down.

"Right... there was a log on a terminal from the previous owners, some Desert Ranger types... the ones that didn't die slipped in with the NCR once that treaty of theirs went down... who are you?  Where are you?"

"Who I am is irrelevant, as are my whereabouts.  You, however, are very relevant.  And the things you have done since she left.  You have been a bad boy Samedi, have you not?"

The hairs on my neck stood stock still as my eyes cracked open.  They found me.  My old compatriots.  They tracked me across the country and waited for me to come tumbling down the hole, get good and drunk and helpless, so they could put one in my ear.  My hand groped for the gun on my hip, only to find an empty holster.

"I... yeah," I sighed, rubbing the leather with a finger tip.  "Yeah."

There was a soft chuckling to my side, low and smooth and deep.

"Not going to deny your true name?  Interesting.  Your weapons are downstairs on the table.  Waiting.  As I am.  Take your time.  Although... I am curious.  The trunk to your left."

I don't remember getting up, or moving for that matter.  But there I was, looking at the trunk in question.

"What about it?"

"It is not the trunk I am interested in.  The contents however..."

The lid popped open and I pressed it back down with an unsteady hand. This was getting silly, since when do things just open on their own?  The latch on the trunk was sturdy and well oiled, it shouldn't be able to spring open whenever it pleased.

"No?  Do you not want what is inside?  We both know what is in there.  How nice it feels against your shoulder, how your hand envelopes the grip... almost as if it was made just for you..."

I wanted to slam the lid shut.  Close the trunk, lock it, weld it, tip it upside down, sit on top.  I also felt a growing urge to hit something.  But what? There was nothing to strike that wouldn't leave my hand worse for wear.

"No.  No need."

More chuckling that echoed inside my head.

"Very well.  Downstairs.  No rush."

My hand lingered on the chest for a moment before I headed through the armory door.  Upstairs was home to weapon storage, munitions and components were down a level.

"Fancy yourself a collector?  Strange, you only have two hands, and you know how foolish it is to fill both with a pistol..."

"It'd be a shame to leave the walls bare," I grumbled, firing up a cigarette without a thought.  "It gives me something constructive to do.  Find something I don't have, repair it as much as I can, maybe toss on a mod or two, stuff it on the wall."

A deep hum reverberated off the walls of the bunker as well as my skull.  I could feel it in my bones and my eyes, and I fought down the terrible urge to vomit as I descended the stairs, as the act would surely leave me falling head over ass, showering myself with bile until I lay broken at the bottom. Sure enough, my usual guns were waiting for me, as was the bear.  

At least it wasn't wearing my hat or glasses anymore.

"Those are mine, alright. I suppose it's foolish to ask how you got down here..."

"A better question: Is a man the sum of his parts, or is he more than that?"

"I don't fu... I don't know.  I was working on a perfectly fine bottle of whisky when you came calling."

My response was met with more humming and a quiet chuckle.

"Yes, I saw.  Now, what if the parts change?"

A fancier revolver and a semi automatic rifle, .223 and .308 caliber respectfully.

"Does the man change with them?"

"I don't know!  Guns are just tools to me!  I use what works or what I feel comfortable with!  I might change 'em out if need be, but once I find something that works well, I tend to stick with it!"

"Temper, Samedi.  I do not mean to upset you.  I'm curious as to why you have the rifle down here, I thought you were not proficient with them?"

"Am I not allowed to try and learn something new?  Oh!  I should rephrase that to keep the theme going!  Is a man not entitled to better himself?! What is this all about, really?"

The walls seemed to press in against me and the pounding in my head intensified.  I shut my eyes tight and fought down the bile churning in my gut.

"Flattery will get you nowhere.  Mockery will take you places even you cannot return from.  Still... interesting that you chose this particular pistol."

"I... yeah, I suppose.  I managed to work up a couple of loads for it that give good expansion and penetration, better than the stuff I've seen for sale.  The longer than usual barrel adds velocity... why am I even explaining this to you?"

Another hum, softer than before, almost comforting.

"I am well familiar with your firearms, my friend.  Why would I not be? Surely you have noticed how observant I am of you.  However, a lesser man would make a crude joke following such a statement of penetration.  But given your recent... indiscretions with the tribal girl, perhaps you are not feeling a need to compensate for something?  Even more interesting is how willing you were to let her penetrate you, and to say nothing of how much you enjoyed it... ah!  I guess I am not above crass humor after all..."

I slammed a fist down on the table as I felt my blood begin to boil.  This had gone on long enough!  Maybe in my haste I had grabbed a bottle of absinthe rather than whisky, and now things were getting weird.  It happened, almost without fail, when I drank the stuff.

"It was either that or kill somebody again!  Maybe it wouldn't be somebody so deserving of it!  Maybe someone I just didn't like the looks of for whatever bullshit reason I came up with!  What do you want from me!?"

The room went frigid, and I could feel a terrible pressure over my chest.

"What I want?  Why, that is simple my friend.  I want you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.  You spent so long being your own worst enemy, and how many times did it nearly get you killed?  You need to start treating yourself better.  Sexual needs and wants matter not to me.  Wanton violence does not bother me in the least.  I only care that you are satisfied regardless of the path you choose.  A clear head results in an able body.  Do you not remember Quincy?  Your mind in a fog, cleared away as the rope grew tight, your breath hitching in your chest and your vision dimming as those on the other side took hold of you?  And when you were freed from the gallows, and your clambering out of the burning barrel, do you not remember how focused you were afterwards?  You certainly put on a display... what was it, nineteen?  Twenty people killed by your hand that night?"

That was it.  I was done.  The air in my lungs had long since escaped, and the room had begun to tilt and spin.

"Twen... twenty-three... fourteen men, nine women," I stammered, steadying myself on the table with a rubbery arm.  Whatever this was, I wanted clear of it.  I wanted to wake up in my bed next to Emma.  That's all I ever wanted.

"Impressive for a man that was mere minutes away from his end... amazing what you are capable of when you put your mind to it.  I fear our time however is at an end.  Before we part, I want you to say it."

"It?  What?  What do you want me to say?"  I was drawn to my hat.  I knew that if I had it in my hands, I'd be ok.  Things were growing dim and distant as I reached out, fingers brushing the brim before I collapsed on the floor.

"You know.  The thing you've been wanting to say ever since it happened.  Do not play dumb with me, Samedi."

I curled up by the table, clutching my sides.

"I'm..."

"Say it."

"I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I let her down.  I'm sorry I couldn't help her..."

I could feel a hand brushing my cheek, and the humming had become a quiet sigh.

"That is all I wanted.  You may hear from me again, I do not know when.  I do hope you are feeling better by then.  Please, do take care of yourself, Samedi. If not for yourself, for her.  As you know, without her, the alternative is... well.  You can figure it out."

"You may think you will not remember this night, but you will."