#my flights for today and tomorrow are going to kill me of boredom

[im-a-dragon-cawcaw]

My irl pals are astonished every time at how early I am to places.

*slaps brain* this bad boy can fit so much time blindness in it

[mi6-cafe]

DRABBLES FOR WEEK 3 ARE HEEERE!

This week our competitors were asked to write exactly 300 words of pure dialogue inspired by the word: “slip”

HOW DO YOU VOTE?

Read all the drabbles. (they’re below the line)

Choose three that you like the most.

Fill out this VOTING FORM, telling us your favourites. (You can even leave anonymous feedback for the author).

NOTE: If you are a competitor, you CANNOT vote for your own fic. But please, do vote. :)

The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

Drabbles below the cut:

#1

Title: Slip of the Tongue Author: IrishWitch58 (captain-magicalkitty) Warnings:None Summary: Q let's something slip out during a private briefing. James actually does listen, especially when it's something he's been waiting to hear.

“This is a simple concept. Access the control center, find the central station, and insert this drive. Once it downloads, you enter this sequence on the keyboard, and remove the drive.”

“And what does the download do exactly?”

“It will send their outgoing communications to us first, allowing us to know their plans and modify them in ways the receivers will not suspect. The result will be that we will eventually close the net around the entire organization. The concept is not that difficult if you would just focus. I sometimes think you play up technological ignorance to get attention. I suspect I would be out of patience if I didn't love you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said you were playing at being ignorant and we have work to do. Now pay attention. We still have to get through this briefing if the mission is to have any chance of success.”

“I really think the briefing can wait just a bit. I believe you're trying to divert me. I know what I heard.”

“You didn't hear anything except my frustration with your lack of attention, 007.”

“Then why are you blushing, Q? You do blush very attractively. I recall you turned a lovely rosy shade the first time I kissed you...”

“Just stop right there, Bond.”

“Oh no, I don't think so. I especially remember how pink you turned the first time I put my tongue...”

“I said stop it, this is not the time or the place!”

“I'll stop if you admit it. I know what I heard. There's nothing wrong with my ears. As a matter of fact, you seem to like them as handles when I...”

“Dammit, James. Yes I love you, you arrogant, aggravating, man. Now can we please get to work?”

“With pleasure, darling.”

#2

Title: The Village of Barnsley Author: Venstar Warnings: geekery Summary: roll for initiative.

The Village of Barnsley’s life force is slipping away. Peasants are fleeing and some have disappeared with no explanation.

Excellent. Peasants to do my bidding, ha!

Oaf.

No one seems to know the cause of the decay. What skulks through the twisted shadows of the night? It will take a brave and skillful band of adventures to solve the riddle!

I’m brave and skilled, that’s me.

You are weak and your dice are cursed, Alec you’re going to get us killed.

Do you think my goats are going to be okay?

You can sell them.

Never!

If the village is in trouble and they need food for information, we’re selling your goats, James.

Touch my goats and I’ll roll to shoot you with my longbow.

Children, please let the DM continue. I have a meeting tomorrow morning and I don’t want to show up with dark circles under my eyes.

Tanner has to fix the trouble in the town of the MI5 and MI6 joint task force. Maybe taking my dice will improve things for you.

I doubt it. Okay, so this village is slowly slipping away.

What’s in it for us?

Spoken like a true mercenary.

Hey, You want goats, I want benefits.

OKAY OKAY! Your band of merry men-

And women

Your band of merry men AND women

And for those of us who are undecided.

I swear to all that is unholy….YOUR BAND OF MERRY ARSEHOLES has become aware of the changes in Barnsley through some vague rumors. Do you want to roll to hear the rumors?

Yes.

No.

Shut up, Alec.

That’s Sir Alec the Brave to you!

Yes, we want to hear a rumor. Who gets to roll first? Goat man?

I agree one must gather intelligence.

Let’s roll! I want to hear a rumor!

#3

Title: No, YOU do the mission report Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: none Summary: slip - noun (FOR BOAT) a place where a boat or ship can be parked, between two piers

“007, why are you driving a boat through the harbour?”

“I’m piloting this yacht because it’s too bloody big to leave drifting as a navigational hazard. The harbour patrol would notice and there’s a dozen dead bodies aboard. I assume you don’t want an international incident...”

“Q,tell him it’d only be his third this year...”

“Alec, shut up and make sure the deck is clear. Q, find out where this wallowing scow normally docks, will you? We'll look suspicious if we just wander about like this too much longer.”

“Too late, James, harbour patrol incoming. Q, got any long-distance lasers?”

“Fuck. Alec, can you divert them somehow? We can’t let them board us.”

“007, head to the northern section of the harbour, to a marina called the Golden Seas.”

“Right. Alec?”

“Just steer us straight and leave the distraction to me.”

“006, why are you stripping that corpse?”

“Q, have you got a drone in the air somewhere? If so, you might want to avert your tender gaze...”

“006, why are you stripping?”

“Take a deep breath, quartermaster, I’m about to engage in a distraction guaranteed to send them away.”

“You’re...tell me you’re not actually...”

“Stop snickering, James, and please explain to our poor innocent quartermaster while I shout angrily at the fools who’ve dared to interrupt our erotic escapades.”

“Well, Q, when a boy likes another boy...”

“007!”

“No, quartermaster, Alec is not going to engage in sexual congress with a fresh corpse. But the harbour patrol won’t interfere with a rich man’s pleasure cruise, either. They know where their bribes come from, especially when they’re reminded in such colorful Russian. Entering the marina now, Q.”

“Oh, er, slip 24 is the correct one, 007.”

“Right. Dispatch a cleaning crew and we’ll be happy to report our mission complete.”

#4

Title: Quotable Quotations Author: Anyawen Warnings: Summary: Film buffs Bond and Q trade movie quotes to stave off boredom. Bond slips a serious question into the game.

“I’m bored, Q.”

“You’re impossible, Bond.”

“'I do not think that word means what you think it means.'”

“I know exactly what it means, and if I had any doubt, your picture in the dictionary would surely give it away.”

“'Why so serious?'”

“MI6 frowns on using comms for idle chatter.”

“My flight’s been delayed twice, Q. If I have to watch another woman order some salted, drizzled, whipped, pumpkin-spiced abomination, I will go mad.”

“In the interests of preserving what little remains of your sanity, 'I’ll have what she’s having.'”

“'As you wish.'”

“You already quoted from The Princess Bride. You lose.”

“That was before you agreed to play. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine. 'I’m your Huckleberry.'”

“My what?”

“Oh, you don’t know that one? You lose. Again.”

“What’s it from?”

“Tombstone. 1993.”

“Never been a big fan of westerns.”

“'Nobody’s perfect.'”

“Hmmm. 'I can't see anything I don't like about you.'”

“Ha! 'As if.'”

“'You make me want to be a better man.'”

“'Everything is possible, even the impossible.'”

“'Today is a good day to try.'”

“'The present is well out of hand.'”

“'I love you beyond poetry.'”

“... 'I know.'”

"'I want you. I want all of you, forever. You and me, every day.'"

"Uh. 'You talking to me?'"

"'Shut up. Yes or no.'"

"... 'Surely you can't be serious.'"

"'Carpe Diem.'"

“'Even walls have ears,' Bond.”

“'Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.'”

“James …”

“'Go ahead, make my day.'”

“You’re really doing this over comms?"

"'Our lives are defined by opportunities—'"

"All right, then. 'You had me at 'hello'.'"

“That’s a yes?”

"Yes. 'Come what may.'"

"'I'm king of the world.'"

"Well, your majesty, tickets to Paris and a seat on the Eurostar should have you home in 10 hours. Boarding now. Gate B50. ‘Shake a leg.’”

#5

Title: Freudian Slip Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: swearing Summary: Every now and then, the mask slips and he ends up saying exactly what’s on his mind (or, 5 times Bond has a slip of the tongue and 1 time it was Q)

“Don’t you get tired of following orders?”

“Do you?”

“Sometimes. We aren’t their dogs. Stop acting like you are.”

“Alec…”

“We could leave, you know? Make a run for it. They’d never find us.”

“I have to go. I’ve got a meeting with my leash. Lead. With my lead.”

“Don’t stick around for too long, James. Loyalty doesn’t always go both ways.”

“Goodbye, Alec.”

-

“-don’t care what happened with Trevelyan, I will not defend you in front of the select committee a second time. Is that understood?”

“Hm.”

“007, I asked you a question. Is. That. Understood?”

“Yes, mum.”

“...”

“Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“Take some time. Get yourself together before you come back, Bond. Dismissed.”

“...Fuck.”

-

“So? How are you settling back in?”

“Fine.”

“Getting to know the new Quartermaster? He’s quite the-”

“Moneypenny, if M’s busy, you can just shoot me off. Shoo. Fuck. I didn’t mean that.”

“James? I thought we were past that? Is everything ok?”

“I’ll come back later.”

“...James?”

-

“The Van Gogh print I recognize, but what’s this one?”

“Hmm? Oh, that’s one of mine.”

“You paint?”

“Sometimes. When I’m not rebuilding guns for careless agents. They’re just daubs, really.”

“Not at all. I like your arse- art! ...I like your paintings, I mean.”

“...Thanks. I think.”

-

“You should leave.”

“Madeleine, what-?”

“You don’t want to be here, James. I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me back. This isn’t working.”

“So… what? It’s not me, it’s Q- you. You. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Go home, James.”

-

“Q.”

“Bond? You’re back?”

“I am.”

“They didn’t believe me, you know. When I told them you’d come back to me. Us. Shit. Back to MI6, I mean.”

“Actually, you were right the first time.”

“What?”

“Forget MI6, Q. I came back to you.”

“You- what?”

“If you’ll have me.”

#6

Title: Note Passing Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: elementary school tactics are the very best "So, now we are passing notes as if we are kids still in school?" "I wouldn't have had to, if you replied to my texts" "Maybe there was a specific reason why I wasn't doing that - did you think of it while you folded this slip of paper and batted your lashes at Moneypenny to persuade her to pass it along?" "You really sound unnecessarily peeved by the note passing" "Let's say I just expect a little more maturity from a grown man" "I didn't think you would have appreciated being stalked around MI6 any better" "To be fair... that's true.Oh, stop it! I can hear your smugness" "You can't hear smugness" "When it comes to you? I can" "You're just being dramatic" "You're one to talk. Don't get me started: I'm very busy and I don't have the time to list all the ways and occasions in which you have proved how much of a drama queen you are. I actually don't even have the time for this call" "You could have just texted me your answer - or you know, you could have passed me a note: some of us still appreciate the beauty of the written word, the effort of picking out the best stationery-" "-you wrote yours on the back of a recei-" "-the intimacy of putting your handwriting on display. I could go on and on about the meaningfulness and superiority of handwritten notes" "You're so full of bullshit" "And you're stalling: for someone claiming to be oh so busy, you sure are enjoying keeping me on the phone" "Maybe I'm just making you gag for it" "If only you'd let me show how next to nonexistent my gag reflex is..." "Stop - stop right there.I'll come to dinner, happy?" "Immensely so, my dear Quartermaster"

#7

Title: All Wrapped Up Author: Iambid (Flantastic) Warnings: Mature Summary:  Q gives James a present

“Hello darling.”

“There you are.  R told me you’d taken the afternoon off.  Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yes.  I got a notification that a parcel was due to be delivered… I thought I’d better be here to receive it.”

“Have you been buying gadgets online again?”

“Not quite. Sit down.”

“Darling?”

“Shhh.  Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m wearing a dressing gown in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Why are you wearing a…”

“Or perhaps you should be asking what I’m wearing under it?”

“Why, what… oh.  Oh.”

“Do you like it?  I found this company online that sells lingerie for men and when I saw that they had a full set in black satin with a matching waist slip and… well, you’re always saying how much you like satin and…”

“Q?  Shut up.”

“Hehe… what are you-ARGH! Jesus fucking Christ, warn a guy next time!”

“You look delicious. I want you laid out like a platter…”

“Yes, but I’m sure I could have laid down on the sofa on my own.”

“Maybe.  Now let’s see… I like the bra-let.  Very sexy, but what I’d really like to see is what these stockings are attached to under your minxy little petticoat… oh.  Well isn’t that sweet?  Do you know, ladies don’t often go for suspender belts these days? It’s all hold ups.  I can’t stand them.  Oh, but this is lovely.  Just look: you’ve got me a little gift too. All wrapped in satin, done up with a bow.”

“It’s not that little, you cheeky sod.”

“Mmmm, no.  Especially not if I do this…”

“You’re a man of many talents.”

“Were they expensive?”

“Were what expensive?”

“The knickers.  I have I feeling I’ll be tearing them off you before very long…”

“They were quite reasonable... Oh James…”

#8

Title: Slip up Author: AtoTheBean Warnings: None Summary: In which Q fails at technology

“You should tell him.” “Oh my god, you are the worst, most meddlesome best friend ever.” “He’s been back six months—” “I’m very aware.” “—and he’s different.” “He’s n—” “He’s different.  Less…" “Of a prat?” “The prat was charming.  Worked on you.” “Shut it.” “Of course, love...  You know, I think these little happy hours of ours might work better on Zoom.  The telephone just doesn’t capture my commiserating, compassionate—” “Ha!” “—expression.” “I’m off duty.  You don’t need to see my pajamas.” “Wouldn't be the first time.  But I agree; they’re wasted on me.  Best invite him over.” “You’re relentless.” “Because I love you.  And you deserve happiness.” “Deserve has nothing to do with anything.  I’ll have to refill my scotch if you’re going soft.” “Time for the second round, then.” “It’s the third, I think.” “Fine.  Third.   You shouldn’t wor—” “Hold on, someone else is ringing in.  I’ll be back in a mo.” “Fine, but I’m not done—” “...Hello?” “Q? This is James Bond.” “...” “Bond?” “Yes... is this Q?” “It is.   I just… I’m on another call.  If you’d hold one moment… “Of course.” “...” “It’s him.  On the other line.  What do I do?  If I talk to him right now, I know I’ll slip up and say something mortifying.” “...This is still James, Q.” “Oh god. Uh, sorry Bond.  Just one moment.  I’ll be right back.” “Of course.” “...” “I hate you.  You’ve orchestrated this, somehow.  Got me drunk and worked on me to tell him how I feel... and suddenly he’s got my number and he's calling on a Friday night…” “...” “Eve?” “Still James, actually.” “Bugger me!” “I was hoping we might start with dinner, actually.  It sounds like the conversation will be... lively.  Tomorrow at seven?” “...” “...” “Somewhere nice.” “Of course, Q.”

#9

Title: Tongue-Tied Author: sorion Warnings: - Summary: Always listen to your Quartermaster.

"For the record, I do not approve of your course of action, 007."

"Duly noted."

"The only time you duly do anything, I would imagine."

"Dearest Q, if your tone of voice had implied that you truly did not approve or, dare I say it, you were even worried for me, I would have done more than note duly."

"Would you have noted aggressively?"

"At the very least, Quartermaster."

"I'm less than impressed. Assailants are closing in, by the way, in case you hadn't noticed. You also have a blind spot, your four o'clock."

"I had noticed, thank you. Keep me updated on my blind spot, please. ... ... ..."

"Bond! Report!"

"Just some unfriendly fire, no need to worry."

"I was not worried. I asked you to report."

"Of course."

"You will take me seriously."

"Always."

"I'd make a note, but there's activity in your blind spot."

"..."

"Move straight ahead. Watch your left."

"..."

"Take the stairs to the roof. I shut down all elevators."

"How very inconvenient."

"It'll be more inconvenient if they shut them down with you inside one. I can take over controls, but even I can't screw in a fuse remotely. And you don't want them to get to the roof before you, do you?"

"..."

"Can I assume from your heavy breathing that you are heeding my advice for a change? ... Don't laugh and run."

"Did you lock the door to the stairway behind me?"

"That goes without saying. They'll break it down soon enough, no doubt... But not before you get to your airlift."

"Smug little bastard, I love you."

"..."

"... Working with you."

"Slip of the tongue, 007?"

"Ah, well. The sneaking around was fun while it lasted."

"... I'll have you know that nobody here looks particularly surprised. Do stop laughing."

"There's my lift. Wait for me."

"Always."

#10

Title: you know my name (or you don't) Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: Bond is bantering with Q over the earpiece. The topic is, as usual, the mystery of Q's name.

“I'm pretty sure it's Quigley.”

“Really, Bond? Do you believe that my parents would do that to me? Also, we should keep it professional while you're in the field.”

“This is a professional curiosity. Anyway, it says Quashawn in your documents, but I don't think that's true.”

”When did you see my files?”

”I'm a spy, remember?”

”I'll need to have a word with Eve.”

“Or maybe it's Quirrel.”

“Ten points for the Harry Potter reference, but sadly, Quirrel is a surname.”

“So you are admitting that your first name starts with Q?”

“No! Just concentrate on the mission, Bond. Seriously, sometimes I ask myself, how I could love such an annoying git.”

“…”

“…”

“What?”

“What?”

“You're in love with me, Q?”

“No, that would be absurd! It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Ha!”

“Don't flatter yourself, Bond, it's just an expression. It wasn't meant in a romantic way at all.”

“So you love me non-romantically? That makes sense.”

“Oh, no. We are NOT doing this. Can we please go back to your obsession with my name?”

“Perhaps later, this is much more interesting.”

“Don't be a child, Bond. And thanks to you, now I'll need to burn this tape.”

“Such a shame. You could have a beautiful reminder of your love confession.”

“Bond! What do you need me to do to let this go?”

“…”

“Shit. I have to tell you my name, right?”

“I think that could work.”

“And if I do that, you promise that we'll never speak about this ever again?”

“Yes.”

“Well. Okay.”

“So?”

“It's John.”

“Really? That's…”

“Boring? Disappointing? Should I change my name to Quasimodo?”

“No. I actually like this one a lot. And… John?”

“What?”

“When I come back, we should discuss my alleged unprofessionalism over dinner. Non-romantically, of course.”

#11

Title: Static Author: Ksania / @starrboned-art​ Warnings:  Implied canon-typical violence Summary: Bond and Q find themselves in a predicament.

"007."

"..."

"Bond."

"Mmh."

"James!"

"Oof!"

"Good, you're awake."

"I was awake this whole time."

"Of course, my bad for thinking otherwise. Your drooling face is obviously a technique to disarm your captors."

"Glad we're on the same page."

"Indeed."

"....Where are we, exactly?"

"And here I thought you were completely awake this whole time."

"Q."

"I don't know. A warehouse is my best guess. A few miles from London. Grabbed us on the way to Heathrow - how's your head?"

"Hmm, like I got hit by a two-ton truck."

"Memory still intact, I see."

"How are you awake?"

"Luck. Looking harmless enough not to be kicked in the head."

"Ha... Sitrep?"

"Three hostiles at least. One leader, two henchmen. Put a sack over our heads on the way here. Haven’t demanded anything yet - I guess an hour has passed since the car crash."

"Handcuffs?"

"Lockpick, back of the belt."

"Convenient."

"Bond! That is not my belt."

"Sorry, Q."

"Careful, Bond. Slip your fingers in the wrong pocket and you might find yourself without a hand."

"Why, Q, that's quite the image."

"Just get it done, I hear footsteps-"

"Hush, I almost have it-"

"Ah, I see you're finally awake, Mr. Bond."

"You have me at a disadvantage, Miss...?"

"No need for names. You gave us quite the chase in Berlin, Mr. Bond."

"If you wanted a private audience, you should have just said the word. No need for a crowd."

"No? I feel that your boy toy will be quite persuasive."

"Don't you dare-"

"My, villain standards are slipping these days."

"Q!"

"I'm quite alright, Bond. Told you to be careful with what you touch."

"What was it?"

"Oh, just a normal, state-of-the-art taser. Disguised as a credit card."

"And you never gave me one?"

"Only good boys deserve nice toys."

#12

Title: tête-à-tête Author: azure3795arts Warnings: none Summary: short conversations -

“—Focus on my voice. Breathe. In then out—”

“Q?”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Sorry, but... Getting a little fuzzy.”

“Hold on. Evac on route. 2 more minutes.”

.

“I”m afraid I’ll have to see you later, Q.”

“What? 007, What do you—wait—”

“Take care of yourself.”

“No. Bond. Bond!”

-

“You know what they say about sleeping at your table.”

“That I’m dedicated to my work?”

“No. That you’ll drool and get a stiff neck for your trouble.”

“I don’t drool.”

“Sure. I thought I told you to take care of yourself.”

“Don’t you dare use that card with me, Bond.” – “Not after you did.”

“Resurrection. Hobby—”

“Shut up. You don’t have any equipment to turn in, so do us both a favor and get out.”

.

“Good morning to you, too, Quartermaster. I’ll leave you to it.”

.

“... Bond.”

“Yes?”

.

“Welcome back.”

“Thank you.”

-

“Does M not have more missions for you, or are you just going into early retirement?”

“Well, you saw the medical file, Q—”

“Bold of you to assume I keep track.”

“Hmm.” 

“I don’t suppose I can tell you to bugger off from my flat?”

“You can.” – “At the risk of abusing an injured personnel.” 

“That’s rich coming from you.” – “Whatever. Stay or leave, just pick one and stop bothering me. And don’t disturb the cats.”

.

“I won’t.”

-

“Why keep a cot here if you’re not going to utilize it. At least drag your arse on it.”

“You have no right to tell me where to drag my arse, Bond. No right.”

“Yes, and I suppose you didn’t just nearly walk into a wall.”

“That was one time.”

.

“You can’t keep doing this, Q.”

“What do you—Who is it?”

“Q…”

“Oh, Miss Moneypenny. Come in.”

“Just... Who were you talking to just now?”

.

“Nothing. No one.”

#13

Title: Lingerie Author: sparklycitrus Warnings: None Summary: Q and Moneypenny have a pleasant chat on a Friday evening off-work.

“Eve, hello. What can I do for you?” “Hello dear boffin. Are you alone?” “Er, yes?” “Oh, good. Don’t worry, nothing disastrous has happened, I just need your expert opinion on a minor personal emergency. Hold one sec, I’m going to call you back on video.” “Video? Wait, what-?” -- “Hello again. Sorry, have I caught you at a bad time after all?” “Pardon my state of undress. I was just getting ready to go out.” “Ooh, is it a date? Who is it? No one I know, I hope.” “Eve – your emergency?” “Right, do change the subject. Well, no matter, here – gold or blue?” “…what?” “Gold, or blue?” “Are those… meant to be worn on a moving body? The construction doesn’t look sturdy enough for, well, anything really.” “You can come up with a detailed improvement plan later. Which one looks better?” “On you?” “No, on M. Of course on me. Tonight. Under a cocktail dress. Personally I like the gold one – makes my bosom look fuller, no? But the blue is a nicer color. And it works better with my shoes.” “…It has to match your shoes?” “What, you think I’m going to stand in a stranger’s bedroom barefoot. What kind of girl do you take me for?” “Uh…right. Apologies. The gold one, then. The brown accents compliment your eyes. The overall structure is more pleasing on a feminine curve. And yes, it does make bosoms look fuller.” “Excellent. Thank you darling. Now carry on with your evening. I shall go get ready myself.” “Ahem, where did you find these anyway?” “An absolutely adorable online boutique! Good prices, too. Why, thinking of getting one for yourself?” “…” “Oh, oh god. You are seeing someone. Oh it better not be–” “Goodbye, Eve. Have a pleasant evening.” “Q–Oi!”

#14

Title: Slip Over Pints Author: ladymars Warnings: No Warnings Apply Summary: R and S try to advise Q.

"I don't know why I let you two drag me here. Three Science Branch heads at the same place outside of Headquarters? There must be guidelines against this." "Well, I think that's 004 flirting with one of the secretaries, if that makes you feel better." "And this place does make M's favourite chips." "So, have another pint and tell us about your little crush..." "Oh, shush, R. It's nothing like that." "Q, dear, I heard you over the roar of the chemical hood. If Bond didn't hear you, he must be deaf from standing too close to explosions." "Hell, I heard you from across the room even. 'Why don't you go and-'" "I know what I said! It was just a slip of the tongue! Nothing more!" "I think you want a slip of something else from him..." "God, S, you're almost as vulgar as the agents. Leave poor Q alone." "If I'm as vulgar as the agents, then Q definitely has a chance with 007. I bet Bond'd appreciate the honesty." "...You'd really think so?" "Q, don't-" "Yeah! You have to be direct with guys like him, or else he's never gonna understand." "Well, I suppose S has a point... Even if he did hear you, he might not have noticed the double entendre." "Ugh, I'd say I was as direct as him driving a car into the side of a building." "He's going to try to justify it like you're justifying it now. Doesn't he spend all his inactive time at Q Branch?" "He hangs out around my Branch to get at the better weapons, obviously." "Or to get at the Quartermaster. We're trying to save you some time here. Turn the slip of the tongue into a slip into bed." "S, honestly, as bad as the agents..."

#15

Title: Not A Contract Author: Shush_MummyWriting Warnings: None Summary: Department heads are always swamped with paperwork.

“Eve, what is this?” “My darling Q, that is an EMP172 form – Official Notification of Intimate Relationship between Staff Members.” “But why is it on top of my Executive Signature pack? Am I supposed to give it to someone – it’s not Robert and that girl from Accounting is it? I’m the Department Head, I shouldn’t have to deal with personal things like this. That's for HR.” “Sweetheart – it’s for you.  I even thought I would save you some time, see on page two - I have already filled out James’ details.” “I beg your pardon?” “You and one ruggedly handsome James Bond of course. That fish mouthed look is very unbecoming Q dear.” “But……” “But nothing. It’s just a slip of paper, not a contract. I am quite frankly tired of watching the two of you dancing around each other. It is time you both did something about it. And if you boys ever decide to make it completely official, I expect some credit during the Wedding speeches.” “Check the back page.” “DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!” “You’ve already signed it.” “Of course.” “Eve, please shut the door on your way out.” “I’m not going to sign this, until you have taken me out on a proper date.” “I have a booking for us, for tonight, at the Ritz. I’ll pick you up at your place at seven.” “How do you know where – no, never mind. Seven it is.” “And Q, that grey suit you wore to the Ministerial meeting last week, wear that – please.” “Alright. Now get out of my office. See you at seven, 007.” "If we are going to do this, I think you should start calling me James." "James. But call me Q - don't want you slipping up on mission."

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[monsterywriting]

Demon Boyfriend (Dirrath) - pt 5

previous part

word count: 2,423

You vaguely remember being jostled around, someone shouting ‘be careful.’ You also remember someone spooning food in your mouth, you chewing and miraculously not choking as you faded in and out of consciousness.

When you finally woke again, you were laying in a tent you didn’t recognize, feeling very much as though you’d been dumped off a cliff. It was clearly dark out, a single lamp on a small table next to you that did little to cast light beyond the corner of the tent it occupied.

After trying and failing to convince your body to stand, you resigned yourself to twitching your fingers as you tried to regain feeling in your limbs.

Pushing the limits of magical ability was a risky feat. Performing advanced healing spells on nearly a dozen severely wounded adults after an already strenuous battle was an admittedly stupid endeavor that left you completely drained of any and all energy, magical and physical.

But you’d woken too early. Really, it was a miracle you were even conscious this early in your recuperation.

“You’re one stubborn bitch,” a thoroughly annoyed voice said from the darkness in the far side of the tent just as you were about to close your eyes again and try to go back to sleep.

Had you heard a voice coming from the shadows after just waking up at any other time, you would have jumped clear out of your skin and probably activate some fight or flight response. More likely than not fight.

In your current state, however, the best your body could muster was an agonizingly slow head swivel towards the voice.

Dirrath leaned forward, the lamp casting an orange glow across his features. The shadows and your own exhaustion cast the illusion of his demonic form you’d seen in the Queen’s study those weeks ago, your heart thundering in your ears in terror.

“Are you real or is this a nightmare?” Your voice remained almost unintelligibly raspy even after clearing your throat.

“Did you destroy the last remnant of your mind when you pulled your foolish stunt today?” Dirrath’s mouth twisted into a scowl and you were too weak to even appreciate that you finally elicited the same response in the demon that he had so many times before with you.

“Don’t get your undergarments in a twist,” you huffed, your words became slurred, “I’m not 13 for nothing. Us Princesses’re easily replaced. There’s twelve others. My position’ll be filled again before the end of the season.”

“I don’t care about your sense of martyrdom or death wish or what have you,” Dirrath grunted, his glamor flickering in what you were now certain was not a trick of the eye, his eyes burning red hot and flashes of rows of sharp teeth baring themselves, “I know you don’t care, but I have a deal to fulfill and right now that happens to be getting you to the castle alive. And so help me I will keep you from killing yourself if I have to- Are you even still listening to me?!”

Had you still been listening, you would have answered no. Of course, you were not listening to Dirrath’s lecture so instead you kept your eyes closed and continued willing yourself to fall back into oblivion Though no matter how much you tried, Dirrath’s annoying voice seemed to keep you from slipping into full unconsciousness, as though he was anchoring you in the conscious. Was he anchoring you there?

Before you could ask, a hand suddenly touched your forehead and your body flinched very slowly, your eyes reopening to see Dirrath standing above you. The hand pressed down, growing hotter until the warmth seemed to seep into your entire body, filling you until you felt as though it was searing you. But just as it became unbearable, the hand left your skin and you almost immediately felt the heat drain from you as though it was never there.

“What the fuck!” You howled, shooting up and reaching for Dirrath’s collar.

Dirrath stepped back out of your grasp, a smug expression on the demon’s face as it began to dawn on you that you were currently standing.

“What did you do to me?” You demanded, checking yourself for any sign of injury or magical tampering.

Just as Dirrath opened his mouth to answer, Olek hurtled into the tent, not even bothering to lift the flap and tackling the demon to the ground.

“Are you okay, princess?” Olek asked, his knee pinning Dirrath down while holding Dirrath’s arm twisted behind his back.

You wanted to laugh so badly it hurt, but that soon died in your throat once you noticed Dirrath’s form flickering even more than it had earlier and his expression was clearly murderous.

“You can let him go, Olek,” you intervened quickly, waiting with bated breath as the two men scrambled to their feet unceremoniously until it was clear they wouldn’t start an all out brawl in the tent.

“Olek, how long until sunrise?” You asked, walking towards the tent entrance and stepping out into the cool night air.

The camp was dead, only the patrolling guards up and walking around. You made your way to where the horses were kept for the night. The saddles and bags were often kept nearby in a tent, and you quickly found your bag and grabbed the box with your tent.

You still weren’t sure what Dirrath did to you, but you actually felt rejuvenated. Magically healing wounds always left the person feeling sore, as the physical effect of the magic still expended their energy. And you had been taught that this side effect was inevitable. And any magic healing you in the state you were in very well should have killed you. But you weren’t even so much as tired, sleep the furthest thing from your mind.

“It was actually just sundown a few hours ago, princess,” Olek told you once he caught up with you, arms raised as though expecting you to keel over at any moment.

You didn’t know where Dirrath disappeared off to, though you wouldn’t be surprised if he went to cool off.

“Good. We’ll leave at first light,” You ordered, walking out to find a space to set up.

“But princess, you expended a lot of energy today,” Olek protested, “We’re close to our destination, we can wait until you’ve fully recovered.”

“That’s exactly why I want to leave early,” you replied, stopping at an empty place and carefully opening the box, “The sooner we get to this dumb castle the sooner we can leave this gods forsaken kingdom.”

When Olek still looked unconvinced, you added, keeping an eye on your tent unfurling before your eyes, “I’ll be fine, Olek. It’s a straight shot to the kingdom from here.”

With that, you dismissed the captain and entered your tent, making a beeline to the bath.

The next morning, you were completely fine riding. In fact, you had hardly slept at all the night before, just laying in your bed until you finally decided to just get ready to set out. By the time the rest of the guards were up and beginning to take down their tents, you were packed and ready to go, even having time to take another bath once you ran out of things to do.

Your new burst of energy also meant that you could enjoy the changing scenery. The fields and occasional small villages became more densely populated towns. With these towns came more people, which meant word of the convoy spread like wildfire.

By the time you reached the second town, rows of people lined the street trying to get a glimpse of the foreign convoy escorting an unknown noble traveling through the kingdom. It was a distressing sight for Olek, who immediately tightened the convoy’s formation and remained on edge until the town was out of sight. Of course, the same problem remained in the next town.

You weren’t nearly as worried riding through. It was clear the people had no idea who you were and therefore couldn’t possibly pick you out from the rest of the group.

As evening approached, the rest of the guards had become mostly used to the gawking as the convoy passed yet another crowd of people all craning their necks to see the center of the group. You were more focused on the prospect of finally having a proper meal by this time tomorrow.

“I saw him!” The giggling tone made you turn to look at the two girls that were squealing ahead on the road.

Following their pointing, you realized they were actually referring to Dirrath. Snickering to yourself, you definitely saw why the people had come to the conclusion that the mysterious noble was Dirrath.

He’d stopped wearing his helmet since riding through the towns, and Dirrath definitely had the soft look of nobility thanks to the glamor; the unmarred skin, the long, silky hair—though you supposed that wasn’t actually a part of the illusion.

But the irony of the fact that the people were gushing over a demon of all things was downright hilarious. Fortunately, they were too busy ogling Dirrath to even notice you laughing to yourself.

As though he had a sixth sense for you making fun of him, Dirrath twisted around in his saddle to look back at you, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

You shook your head, forcing a neutral expression until Dirrath scowled and turned back around. As soon as you were certain he wasn’t going to catch you, you went right back to laughing at his expense.

Once you finally composed yourself, you began to look around at your surroundings, mostly out of boredom. Even though the buildings grew further apart, you were just glad to finally take in something other than the wilderness and countryside that had taken up the majority of the journey.

But one building in particular caught your eye, a plan already formulating in your mind, a plan already formulating in your mind as the convoy passed through the outskirts of town.

“Absolutely not,” Olek said almost as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“It isn’t up for debate,” you told Olek cheerfully, standing in plain clothes as similar to the ones the townspeople wore you could find in your tent’s wardrobe, “Besides, the humans think Dirrath is me, so any assassination attempts will be on him.”

“As tempting as that sounds, it’s far too dangerous to go into town without weapons,” Olek said, sounding as though he was explaining to a child why they couldn’t have a toy they wanted.

“This isn’t Altruria,” you pointed out, “they were more curious than anything. And I’m sure the tavern won’t turn down the extra business if we show a sign of good faith. A bunch of foreign armed soldiers walking around town at night would call more attention than anything else.”

Olek eventually acquiesced, if only because you were downright determined—and it didn’t hurt the majority of the guard sided with you.

And you were right. The tavern you had seen was more than happy to take your gold—borrowed from the gift wagon—and serve your group all the ale you could want.

Olek and some of the older guards stayed back, most of them wary of the outsiders. You’d been given a strict curfew of two hours, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take full advantage.

Once word spread that the foreigners were back in a more social context, people flooded into the tavern all vying for the attention of your guards.

You clearly turned a blind eye, signaling with an ok sign to the guards that Olek would never hear of their exploits during the next couple of hours.

However, rather than join in on the festivities, you instead opted to remain in the corner learning to play cards with some of the regulars and get drunk.

“You’re terrible at this,” Dirrath said from across from you as you showed your frankly terrible hand.

You hadn’t even noticed when the demon joined in, more interested in your cup than committing the rules to memory.

You stuck your tongue out at Dirrath, “let’s see you do better.”

He turned his cards over with a smile, completely blowing the rest of the players’ hands out of the water. Various curses sounded around the table as the rest threw in their cards and left.

“Ugh, I thought I left Olek back at camp,” you groaned as Dirrath shoved his winnings in his satchel, “do you have to be a buzzkill all the time?”

“You should be thanking me,” Dirrath snorted, “I just earned back the gold you took from Roquechade.”

“I really don’t want to talk about him,” you sighed, sinking deeper into your chair until you were nearly eye level with the table, “And weren’t you surrounded by people earlier?”

“I’m a demon. I just made them believe Garreth was me,” Dirrath replied, pointing to the bar and indeed the guard was surrounded by people.

“Well, Garreth does make a more convincing noble than you,” you joke, not even Dirrath’s usual haughty attitude enough to kill your buzz.

“Why is that?” Dirrath frowned, looking annoyed.

“Besides the fact that you’re a demon?” You snort, looking around in hopes of making eye contact with one of the servers, “You’re hardly the princely type.”

“And what if I was?” Dirrath said after a long pause.

“What? A prince?” You scoffed, “I’ll believe I’m a direct descendant of the First High Queen before I believe that.”

“You know nothing beyond your mortal realm, princess,” Dirrath glowered.

“Ok then, why are you trapped in this mortal realm making deals to escort princesses from one castle to another?” You shot back, satisfied when you saw Dirrath avert his eyes.

“When demons are summoned, they are obligated to forge a contract with the one who summoned them,” Dirrath said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, clearly moping.

You almost began to feel sorry for him. At the very least, you felt bad that you never considered the possibility that Dirrath had about as much desire to be here as you. Maybe you did owe him a bit of an apology for being forced to help you.

“Hey, can demons get drunk?” You ask instead.

“With your kind’s weak alcohol?” Dirrath gave you a look of pure disgust.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grinned, waving down a passing barmaid.

[kyberphilosopher]

Chapter Fourteen

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

His hair is a deep chestnut shade of brown. It looks fluffy, soft. His light skin looks smooth, even from my distance. His jaw is sharp, his cheeks strong. A playful smile lies on his pink lips. Everything about his features- no, about him- is soft. That’s the best word I can think of to describe him.

But I can feel the strength falling off of him. It peels off of his robes. They’re like a normal Jedi’s, but tighter at the sleeves, covered by a poncho, and darker in color. He feels different from all the Jedi I previously killed. He’s strong. Soft, but strong.

Tiredly, I shift my feet to show where my attention lies, eyes narrowing to begin my assessment of this visitor. Male, stocky build. Taller than me by a lot, but average for a man. My age. Slightly older? Slightly relaxed form. He watches me just as closely as I watch him. So he’s observant.

His eyes scan over the lightsabers at my sides, eyes lingering longer on the one with the red blade.

“Nowhere,” I say, almost hoarsely. My right hand is starting to go numb again, and I can feel a big, thick drop of blood fall from my half a finger. “Don’t worry, I won’t go too far,” I tell the stranger, even though I’m really not in the mood for a sarcasm contest right now.

“Oh, that’s good,” the stranger bends his knees and angles his violet light defensively. “I would so hate it if you missed this dance.”

Oh, man. He’s kind of quip-y. Killing him won’t be as satisfying as it would’ve been if he was all serious. “We can be honest with each other, right?” He shrugs. “Can we please reschedule this for tomorrow?”

  He smiles. It makes his eyes squint and twinkle. It looks nice on him. “Tired from killing the other two, are we?”

Has someone been watching me? Following me, even? No, I would’ve known. I would’ve sensed it. Perhaps he witnessed the fight between Aegus and Yutaro- it was possible I didn’t notice because my focus was elsewhere. Who is this guy?

“What would your mother say?”

I don’t know what it was about his statement that set me off. I just know that it did.  

I throw my hand out, letting my hate and exhaustion fuel the lightning that falls out. It wipes the smile right off his face as it cages him, throwing him backwards and out of my vision for an instant.

Then, I remove the red saber off my belt. I twist it between my palm to get a feel of it again, and run forward. It’s not as fast as it could be, but I am tired. My finger needs medical attention.  

I thrust the red lightsaber into the boy’s shoulder. It nicks him, but he offers little more than a wince in response. He blocks my next strike. I put more pressure on it, forcing our lightsabers closer to his face. He doesn’t back down, however. He is determined to show me that my rageful exhaustion is no match for his physical strength. We’ll see about that.

Right as I’m about to kill him, something grabs my attention to the left. Not the sun-but a light! No, two of them! Two bright, beautiful balls of crystal clear light.

A shot blows me back. My lightsaber comes to a close as I tumble in the dirt for about the third time today. The cold mud and twigs make the cuts on my hands and temple sting even more- not a good sign. My right ear hears a long, drawn out scratching noise like a saw. Then it fades off like a hum and is replaced with a high-pitched ringing, followed by complete silence. My left ear continues to throb lowly with the beat of my heart, which changes between too fast and too slow. When my body finally stops rolling and stills itself, I can feel a droplet of either sweat or blood run down the right side of my neck. My eyes burn from the dirt that’s undoubtedly in them.

I lie still for a moment, wiped out and exhausted. I’m not dying, the galaxy would never be so kind. What happens next is just like falling asleep. Slowly becoming darker and darker, my vision goes black, and I feel warm.

When I was thirteen, I made an attempt to draw my father from memory. I had only drawn a few times prior to this, mostly out of sheer boredom. I want to say that they came out well, but I don’t have anything to compare my works to. Being on the run your whole life doesn’t lend much time for art museums.

I had no memories of my father whatsoever. I looked into a glass shard from a mirror and attempted to make my own features look more masculine. I don’t know how long it took me to sketch him, but finally I was finished.

In my version of my father, he has dark hair. He looks young, with eyes slanted upwards. I imagine they have hazel flecks, lined with gold and just the slightest hint of deep green. His eyes are framed by thick, dark eyebrows- straight and clean. Under his orbs are dark circles like smudged makeup, similar to my own. His nose is narrower than mine, but splashed with tope freckles all the same. We have the same olive skin and similar chins. His jaw is sharper than mine. His lips are chapped, but curled up at the ends like a smirk. Still, he frowns. I can not make him smile.

My father was very handsome. His name is Kaito Vagor, which in another galaxy translates to “the flight over the sea” and “I wander”, which I think is beautiful. In my mind, he is quiet. He thinks things through, just like me. He knows how to take initiative, believes in facts over feelings but never ignores his gut. Although I’d never met him, I loved the picture of my father, which ended up being completely accurate. I loved him so much, I begged him to be dead. I begged him to be dead so I’d feel like there was a reason I’d grown up without him. But cruelly, no matter how much I prayed and wished, Kaito was alive. I wouldn’t know it in my lifetime, but he was alive.

I couldn’t bring myself to draw my mother. I was too busy trying not to wail at the loss of my father, who I loved dearly despite the rage I’d obtained over the years. After that day, I had no idea where the drawing went. I might’ve destroyed it in my sleep, or lost it on purpose without even realizing.

Now, as I sleep, I think of the image of my father again. I think of nothing else. I see him smiling down at me calmly- on birthdays, cooking me meals in a small hut, training me how to better use a spear. In that life, I am happy. I am content with just Kaito, and I know how to trust people. There is no Clone with the yellow stripe. No Haxion Brood. No Imperial Inquisitors. And, most importantly, there are ten fingers.

I bolt upright at this realization.

I’m alive. My breathing feels thin, but not impossible. My chest is not nearly as sore as I expected, so I decide to count it as a good thing. Still, it rises and falls rapidly as I struggle not to cough on my own breath. My head thrums will a slow, dull pain that makes me wish I had just stayed still. Once I regain my sense of thought, I look around, eyes wide as my heart hammers.  

The floor below me is the same stark white color, matching the bed and the walls. It looks like the inside of a ship, I think. I don’t sense danger, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my entire sense of survival were thrown off. I’m atop a cushioned bench, with a firm, small pillow where my head was. The only pop of color in the room is a slim bunch of yellow flowers, sitting in a pale gray vase.

Breathe, Keres. Softly.

My boots are missing from my feet. Instead, light colored gauze wraps around my ankles and stops before it reaches my toes. I wiggle them playfully, watching each duck and weave up and down on my command. It makes me feel childish, but secure that I at least have one part of my body still working for me. Unlike my fingers, there are ten of them. My hands and forearms are wrapped in a matching gauze, contrasting the normal gray gauze that works as my undergarments for my dark, sleek, armor. Replacing said armor is a beige kind of altered Jedi’s robes like the one with the purple lightsaber wore. The normal weight from a lightsaber doesn’t hang on my hips, and when I move my hand to the area I find nothing but air. I’m too tired and groggy to feel frustrated about it.

Brushing hair out of my face, I notice my hair is still in it’s braid, however messy it may be. The palm of my hands are flecked with pink scars, and a few bright red cuts from all my forest fumbles. Some are better healed than others, but none of them sting like they did. My right hand is just as I’d left it, confirming my worst fear. The fear that it was all real.

My right ring finger is gone. There is nothing from my knuckle up, and instead it is only a stump with more gauze wrapped tight around it. I stare at it. My eyes water quickly. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling, but this it to no avail.

I deserved it. I deserved to lose my finger.

I push myself off the bed angrily. My feet feel cold on the floor, but I don’t register it. When I stand up completely, something in my rib pops. This makes me stop for a second before carrying on in haste.

Clothes. I need my clothes. Where the kriff are my clothes?

Somewhere to the right of me, the familiar hiss of a door opening rings out. I snap my head up.  

 A Togruta with wet looking red skin appears in front of me. White diamonds surround her eyes, and smaller diamond markings appears across her cheekbones. Her lips are full but not too full, and her pale green eyes are framed by long, soft eyelashes. Her horns aren’t stubby, but neither tall nor sky high. It gives away her age- teens, possibly nearing twenties. She is dressed in a loose brown tunic, covered by a white, stained medical smock. Everything about her appearance is regal, elegant, and objectively beautiful.

“Oh!” she squeaks, one hand covering her chest as she gathers her breath. “You’re up!”

I remain quiet as I meet her eyes. The Togruta shifts a clipboard in her arms and puts it on a shelf behind her. “I’ll be right back with some medicine. Stay right here!” She hurries off and out the door again.

I immediately disobey what she’s asked of me. Fuck her. I take a single step forward and stumble for a moment. My feet adjust to the freezing floor after a second, and in short, quick steps I make my way out of the room. The next area I stumble into is circular, and bustling with at least ten people- I can’t count them all. My eyes squint to adjust to the new light, but my right ear remains unadapting and silent. A few feet ahead of me, I can see the back of what I believe to be the Jedi.

He overlooks a round holo-table displaying a blue hologram I can’t completely make out. Two other people in helmets observe the table with him, nodding and occasionally opening their mouths. After a simultaneous nod from them, they head off to their right, down a hallway. The Jedi meets my eyes from across the way. Then he stands still.  

I hate him. This is his fault. It’s always the Jedi’s fault.

A few people in the room pause to glance at me, creating a look of disgust on my face I don’t even try to hide. I am angry at them. I want them to know how angry I am. No one dares to  chuckle before conversations start again. The Jedi crosses his arms and looks at me as if he’s bested me at something, or proved himself. Jokes on him though, because he’s vastly overestimated how much I care or am willing to care. 

“Oh, you’re… up again!” The Togruta appears with her arms full of cloth. Is that my boot? On top of them are several small bottles and a single syringe. “I just went to bring you your clothes and some medicine. I didn’t think you would be ready to walk so soon.”

I eye the scene suspiciously. I’m definitely on a ship of some sort, most likely no longer on Endor. There are a lot of people on this ship, but for what purpose? And why is a Jedi involved? Don’t speak, Keres. The way he’s looking at me, he’ll just pull a ‘Keres’ and ironically evade whatever you ask him.

I hold out my hands for my clothes, to which the Togruta pours them into my arms while trying to maintain a polite smile.  

There is silence between the two of us as I pretend to be very interested in my black and gray outfit and boots. “So,” the Togruta sighs with another smile. “What should we call you?”

I quickly bend over slightly to slip one of my boots on. These people don’t get to know my name.

  “I’m Aheka. Aheka Shyn. And you’ve already met Adamus…”

I crane my head up to look at the Jedi. His hair is just as brown and soft looking as before, though his jaw is flexing and tightening as he peers at me from across the room. I can feel eyes continue to watch me as I stuff my other foot into the other shoe. He sure knows how to spark my annoyance, I’ll give him that. He’s sparked it so much, I can feel myself tensing up in a new and intense way.  

“He’s not so bad,” Aheka continues. “I know you guys didn’t really get off on the right foot, but-”

“Adamus is responsible for the kriffing ringing in my ear then,” I snap. “So he is that bad.”

Aheka swallows, eyes widening. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to offend…”

“Aheka. That’s enough,” another voice commands. I drop my gaze back to my boots, chewing on my bottom lip as I hear footsteps come closer. “I’ll take care of this,” the male voice says.

I watch Aheka’s shoes step away briskly and disappear behind another door and hallway. The ship must be awfully large to have so many of them. The only thing I have to think about then is which of those hallways will take me to escape pods. 

“A bit rude, wouldn’t you say?” he starts. “Exploding over such a valid question?”

I dare not speak for fear the poison that comes from it will make a hole in the floor.

“Did you hear what she asked?”

“I heard it,” I hiss, attempting to keep my cool. “I just choose not to answer it.”

Adamus looks me up and down. Not in a flirtatious way, but a way that gives him a good observation. Is he analyzing me? He must be, somewhat. I don’t like it. He might find some flaw in my stance or my balance. I stand up straight, forcing myself to meet his eyes in a way that signifies a challenge.

“So, why Endor?”

Well, that’s a funny story. See, you know the Haxion Brood criminal syndicate? Oh, you don’t? Don’t worry- they’re just some of the most hardened and cutthroat criminals in the galaxy! Well, they captured me outside of Kijime. After straight up murdering people of your kind, they were so frightened of me they just chose a distant planet to drop me off at! Funny story, right?      

“The will of the Force,” I quip. A satisfying snap runs through my stomach as I watch his left eye twitch. It’s perfect. I want to shatter his expression like that again.

I watch a yellow Twi’lek shake hands with one of the soldiers in a helmet. I’m reminded of Talik for a moment, and I miss her- but I push her from my mind. Mur, Kip, Talik- they’re a part of my past now. Talik can’t chase me anymore.

“Somewhere you need to go?” Adamus continues.  

“Nowhere you can take me,” I promise him quickly.

Adamus curls his pink lips into a sly smile. His eyes twinkle immediately with a spark of charisma. “Listen, no offense, but you don’t look like someone who has somewhere they need to be.”

“Makes sense to me, because you don’t seem like the type of person who would know what that looks like.”

Adamus narrows his pale eyes. I wait for his smile to twitch again, but it doesn’t happen. He almost looks like he wants to laugh. Like I’ve just told him something clever. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and begins sauntering backwards. “It was nice talking to you, stranger.”

I take that as him dismissing me. “Fuck you,” I whisper at him as I watch him turn around. The I start back to the room I was unconscious in. With minimal pain on my part, I begin to swap out my clothes with my dark colored outfit that highlights my agility. A small mirror on one of the walls allows me to look at my face.

My eyes are a little red, and there’s a scarlet gash on my forehead, above my right eyebrow. I still look like myself, at least. Same hazel-green eyes, same chapped lips, same brown hair. I’m me. Just roughed up, I guess.

I see and hear Aheka wisp around being me, on the left side. I don’t turn to see her, but I can imagine her pretty face, clear as day. There’s a certain layer of guilt that sweeps around the pit of my stomach. I shouldn’t have been so rude to her earlier. She hasn’t do anything to me. In fact, she’s probably the one who healed me up best she could. She saved my worthless life.

“Hey, Aheka,” I mumble so quietly I expect her not to hear.

“Hm?” She hums sweetly in response.

My mouth suddenly feels dry. I can’t bring myself to turn around and look at her as I say the words, and I realize I’m just as big of a coward as Aegus. “Thank you,” I whisper hoarsely.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and I start to wonder if she even heard me. “I said-”

“I heard you,” Aheka replies. I can hear her soft smile through her tone. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Are you the medic?”

“It’s just me and another so far. We’re trying to train more, but it’s difficult with our numbers.”

I swallow. “Did you patch me up?”

“Yes.” Aheka says bashfully, as if embarrassed by her work.

“I’m not going to kill you,” I tell her as I turn around to finally face her. I had meant to put her at ease, but I only feel her tense up further at my phrasing. “Can you tell me about my injuries?”

The beautiful Togruta walks to the other side of the room to grab the clipboard she placed there earlier. “A broken rib on your left side, two on your right. Several cuts on your back, calves, and hands. A single cut to your forehead. Your right ankle was dislocated. The right finger on your right hand was already like that when we found you. I’m sorry, but we couldn’t find it.”

“What about my ear?”

“Your ear?” she sets down the clipboard again and begins to walk over to me with a concerned expression. “Is something the matter with it?”

“Yes, my right one.” Her red hand reaches out to touch me, and I flinch away before stilling myself enough for her to hold my jaw gently. “I can’t hear anything out of it.”

“Since when?”

“Since back on Endor. A ship- this one, I think- fired at me and Adamus.”

"They fired at you?!” Aheka furrows her eyebrows in anger. “So that’s why Adamus looked so peeved at Circe. I’m sorry they did that. We’re not usually like that, I promise.”

The tips of her fingers are cold, then warm as they edge closer to my ear. “I knew I noticed you bleeding when I took you in. I should’ve examined you more closely.” Then she snuffs out some hot air. “Perhaps you should start hurting yourself on your left side too, to balance yourself out.”

A weak attempt at humor. I have heard better. Still, I try not to look like I’m so uncomfortable and grimacing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

I clear my throat. “So, who exactly is ‘we’?”

“Oh… Adamus didn’t tell you?” I shake my head no. “I’d tell you we’re nobodies, but that’s not really true,” she whispers, as if we were speaking in a forbidden language. “We’re part of the Rebellion. New, and not really valid, but we’re a part of it. Too small to be the whole thing but well… all rebellions have to start somewhere.”

Oh man. The Rebellion? This is exactly the type of thing I was trying to stay away from. I might’ve well have just ended up in the hands of some Sith activist group. I don’t want to be allied with anyone’s side but my own. I don’t want the Light path or the Dark path- I want my own path.

“And what’s the deal with Adamus?” I venture to ask.

Aheka removes her fingers from my skin gently. She crosses to the other side of the room, and pulls out a long, thick stick with a little puff at the end. “That’s a story I would just butcher telling you. Here, tilt your head this way…”

I tilt my head to the side as she places the stick in my ear. With minimal discomfort, she pulls it out after a moment. The puffy side is stained red and slightly gold. She lifts her hand to my ear and snaps, but I hear nothing. “You didn’t hear that? I see…Well, the good news is I know what to do. I don’t have the materials for it right now, but I’m sure I can find something somewhere.” Aheka gives me a soft smile. “But until then, maybe you should get some rest. I-I know you’ve had nothing but that for the past day and a half, but…”

Is she… looking out for me? No, nobody is that good. She’s being nice for a reason. She wants something from me. I watch her for a minute before walking past her silently. “Wait- ah, where are you going?”

I don’t answer her. It’s not like telling her would make a difference anyway. I pass the room with the holo-table, not seeing my target anywhere. Adamus.

I let my instincts lead the way. I walk through one of the hallways on the right side, then take a left. A few soldiers walking past give me weird looks, but I pay no mind. They’re lucky I didn’t just kill them right then and there.

The Force leads me to another door. Yes- this is where I’ll find him. I can practically smell Adamus’s disgusting stench from here. It opens without me pressing a button.

“Our first assault should’ve been on Endor. We could’ve taken it if it weren’t for Oden’s ridiculous vote.”

“No, don’t be foolish! We should focus on a defense more than anything. We…”

Adamus notices me and turns to face me. His arms unfold themselves as he starts over to me silently, careful not to disturb the others with the movement of his stocky body. The other men in the room, all sharing a similar uniform, continue discussing what I assume to be their rebellious little plans that I intend to be no part of. Adamus reaches out to hold my left arm as if I were a child that needed to be held still.

“Lovely to see you,” he begins. I see that he has to crane his neck to meet my eyeline, and I imagine punching him square in the jaw. “What can I do for you?”

He’s closer than he’s been before. He doesn’t smell as bad as I previously said, actually. It’s not nearly as… stench-y. It reminds me of something I can’t really place. Some type of wood, maybe? I can see a scar across his lips that pauses before his jaw, then resumes on his neck and under his robes. There’s another one right under his right eye. His eyelashes look so soft and dark brown. Something in my stomach pulls me to look in his eyes. 

“Am I interrupting your sausage party?” I say, watching his lips twitch in annoyance for the third time today.

“That’s disgusting,” he counters calmly, struggling to keep his cool.

“But… accurate.”

Adamus squints his eyes in a brief wave of annoyance. “What did you come here for?”

My eyes flicker around the room with paranoia, making sure no one is watching our conversation. Luckily, all the men in uniform seem be clenching their fists as one of them makes some big, dramatic speech while waving his arms around. “Where can you take me?”

Adamus stiffens his body, and I watch the charismatic twinkle return to his irises as my stomach drops. “Ilum, perhaps?”

Ilum would be perfect. It would be… it would be home. “Why would I want to go there?”

“You were talking about it in your sleep.”

Fuck. Adamus.

His grip on my arm intensifies slightly. “I can take you there if you tell me your name.”

I stare up into his piercing orbs. A small shrug graces my shoulders. “Why am I so important to you?” I hiss. “First you stalk me, then you shoot at me, and now you’re demanding my identity. How do I know you’re no better than the Empire?”

Adamus narrows his pale eyes at me. “We’re the rebellion,” he says as if it were obvious.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I counter sharply. “Because you’re not part of the oppressive government, you can’t be oppressive yourselves? Fuck off.”

I hold his stare then. I am not one to back down from challenging authority, or messing with anyone who thinks they’re in control of something. That always tends to include men.

Adamus keeps squaring his jaw in frustration, much to my delight. Then he returns to the table, and a hush falls over the uniformed men. “I have a proposal,” he speaks.

“Does it include her?” One of the men with gray hair and frown stapled to his lips jabs a finger at me.

“It does,” Adamus replies. “I propose we set a course to Ilum. The planet is sacred to the Jedi and could prove useful to me and the uh… new associate here.”

“Didn’t she attack you on sight?” one of the men counters- a Chiss with blue skin and deep red eyes.

“She had every reason to attack. But now she’s going to help us. Right, my new associate?”

Oh no. No, Adamus! Please don’t put the spotlight on me. Before I can respond, Adamus answers for me, probably sensing my discomfort. “Right. Everyone in favor of heading to Ilum, raise your hands.”

Adamus raises both his hands as if surrendering. Nervously, five men follow suit. Adamus turns to me, eyebrows raised. Immediately, I throw up my left hand as a vote.

“Oh, yay! A unanimous vote. That sure makes things easy. Well, off to Ilum then!”

“Ah- General Adamus!”

“Can’t hear you Rass I’m already out the door!” He grabs my arm again as he leaves the room and shuts the door behind us. Separating me from the pit of political vipers he calls his council.

[s-j-ace]

The Same Question

Chapter Six

Characters:  Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi

Words: 14290

Summary:

After Detective Shuichi Saihara encounters mysterious thief Kokichi Ouma  for the first time, a game of cat and mouse ensues as both men ask themselves the same question. Why exactly does the elusive phantom thief  do what he does?

This is Chapter Six, Here are Chapters One, Two, Three, Four, and Five

Read on AO3

[Log of Text Messages from Maki Harukawa’s Cellular Device]

From: Me

Did you touch down at Haneda yet?

From: Principal Emo

Yeah

A while ago actually

I’m actually on the train home right now

Which I guess is a little silly considering I’m coming right back over tomorrow

But also I definitely need to sleep in my own bed at least once before meeting people Kaito works with

From: Me

Ugh

Meeting people

From: Principal Emo

Yeah

Especially meeting people with Kaito “What’s your favorite blood type?” Momota

From: Me

Hey that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about

And your description is completely accurate, continue

From: Principal Emo

Ugh sorry that was mean

I’m mean today and I don’t like it

I need coffee :(

From: Me

Or, you know

A decent night’s sleep

From: Principal Emo

Too hard

From: Me

Oh, you’re right, taking care of yourself is too hard

Back to relentlessly roasting Kaito it is

From: Principal Emo

What no

I’m not roasting him

I’m just

Trying not to be mad at him because the only reason I have to be mad at him is that I’m going to miss him while he’s on his mission and I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me he was going on the mission soon enough that I had time to ease into missing him and if I’m just angry at him about that then I’ll be missing him when he’s here so I should try and not be angry at him so that I don’t let time with him go to waste while he’s not in space yet

That makes sense right?

From: Me

I mean feel about it how you wanna feel

But I’d just be mad at him if I were you

From: Principal Emo

:(

From: Me

*>:(

From: Principal Emo

*<:(

From: Me

What is that

A party hat?

From: Principal Emo

No its like

Concerned eyebrows

From: Me

What are you concerned about?

From: Principal Emo

Right now? Or in general?

Because right now I’m worried that people on the train are giving me weird looks because my suitcase is taking up too much space

But like in general I fear that I am somehow secretly inadequate according to an unclear set of standards that only exist in my own mind

From: Me

Cool

Well not cool actually

You want me to give you a ride to the open house so that you don’t have to take the train again tomorrow

From: Principal Emo

I would actually very much appreciate that

I know that the lines under the Towa bridges have the newest trains and the most up to date security and all

But also there’s just a lot of people on trains and places to hide knives one would use for a train stabbing and even thought that’s super unreasonable maybe it’s not that unreasonable because we have a lot of stabbings in proportion to other countries but also we have a low homicide rate

From: Me

Ah so you don’t just want to carpool for my charming company

From: Principal Emo

If you’re trying to be sarcastic let me just say your company is genuinely more charming than the motley crew of characters one would expect on the Towa to Tanegashima line at ten in the morning

From: Me

Even though my car has the same amount of places to hide knives?

From: Principal Emo

Yeah but those knives are for your purposes and not train stabbings

From: Me

My purposes?

From: Principal Emo

You know what I mean

From: Me

Yeah I do

Also

While I do not want to validate your fear of train stabbings via the association of an abrupt subject change

I’ve been meaning to say for a while that I am sorry that I don’t trust your detective work more often

Well I don’t know about more often

What I mean is

I think that you are a good detective

Even when you say stuff that obviously sounds stupid

And if I implied a different stance through my words or actions

Then I regret those words and/or actions

From: Principal Emo

What?

Oh are you talking about what you told me before I went to Paris

From: Me

Yeah

I mean I don’t think I’m in the wrong when I say clowns stealing toilets from the louvre is a stupid premise for a crime

But I guess criminals are stupider than popular media and common sense would lead me to believe

And I think I should have believed in you more

But also I think I was right that you need a vacation and you haven’t taken one yet and I think that’s not great for you either

From: Principal Emo

Oh um

I guess not?

From: Me

And Kaito told me you’re not allowed to chase the clowns anymore

So maybe you should take a break now

From: Principal Emo

Well

I feel like in a way following the DICE case was a break?

Because I essentially didn’t get any cases done the whole time I was working it

Which means I’ll have catching up to do when I get back to the office

From: Me

Not if I kill you first

From: Principal Emo

Sorry, we’ll have to fit that in later

If you kill me then I’ll be even more behind

From: Me

Your eyeballs better be behind your eyelids at 8pm today or else I’m taking them

From: Principal Emo

Taking what?

From: Me

Your eyeballs

From: Principal Emo

No I need those

From: Me

Then hide them because I’m coming for you

From: Principal Emo

Okay, maybe I’ll sleep a little tonight

From: Me

You better still be sleeping when I get to your house

I’ll be there 8:30

From: Principal Emo

Maki if you want me to sleep at 8pm then that means you want me to sleep for 12 and a half hours

From: Me

Did I fucking stutter

From: Principal Emo

<:( --- Kokichi Ouma's flight from the Malpensa Airport in Milan, Italy to the Narita Airport in Tokyo, Japan was the first time he had ever been on a plane by himself. He had done that on purpose when organizing the flight groups yesterday. Ace and King had suggested that groups be made up of twos and threes to avoid "unnecessary danger," which Kokichi heard as avoiding "letting our boss eat paper and be in vents." Naturally Kokichi responded that it was a positively splendid suggestion, considering he had come up with it already, and he had obliged by it, organizing them into four groups with Kokichi's own group including Queen and Jack. Except somehow they had booked tickets for the wrong flight. Oooh noooo, how could that be? And Queen had been the one to book the tickets too…

Kokichi supposed that he hadn't quite thought this whole being on a plane alone thing all the way through when he was hacking into the airline's online ticket system last night. It seemed now, in the daylight of sitting in the window seat of aisle 22 watching the clouds stroll listlessly across the sky so that he wouldn't have to look at the lady next to him paint her toenails, that there was nothing overtly beneficial about the lack of a familiar audience to his exploits. Sure, it was nice that he could have his blue eyes white dragon on the plane with him in his pocket instead of hidden within the checked bags, but what was the point of it if there was no one to duel with?

Basically he was bored.

But also weirdly not motivated to do anything to end the boredom. Which seemed counterintuitive, because not being bored was his whole deal. Then again maybe having a whole deal was counterintuitive to his supposedly liquid personality. If he wanted to stir things up maybe he should indulge this part of himself that wanted to be boring because then that would vary from his constant need to not be boring, which in excess could be viewed as boring. Then again, changing things about his personality just to avoid an arbitrary standard of boring-ness would also be pretty boring, wouldn’t it?

He tried to think of what the Kokichi who didn't want to be bored with all of his being would do right now. Maybe he would turn around and just start picking apart the insecurities of miss "my toes need to be pink for the beach!" over here until she started crying and jumped out of the plane. Then again, he didn't trust his brain not to imprint onto the next person who had long eyelashes and who he thought might fuck up his whole deal if he let it wander free into the dangerous world of airplane small talk. Sure, he could steal something or break something or just cause some sort of problem on purpose, but, very concerningly, it didn't seem like he wanted to.

It just... seemed like a hassle right now, to think about things and scheme. If he was the maitre d' of mischief then what was the point of it if there wasn’t someone important's perceptions to attend to?

So his brain was left here, grasping at straws, rewatching episodes of Detective Conan in his head, and wondering where he went wrong with the whole dashing phantom thief thing.

It also felt like there was something he was supposed to be doing that he was forgetting to do but he didn't have a lot of time to think about it, what with the recently discovered antique fabregé egg being stolen from the Suzuki Modern Art Museum in Osaka and all. How did Kaitou Kid do it?

Oh, wait, Kokichi knew what this feeling reminded him of. It felt something like being twelve again. Back when DICE was just around a year old and they were still living in that apartment in Hokkaido. They were barely scraping by at that point. Spades and Clubs were in junior high, still seriously considering going back to the old home. All the other teens were still in highschool, except for King, who was just starting nursing school, and Ace still had their first job with that phony resume Kokichi made them. Wait, they hadn't even come up with their code names yet had they? Yeah, they still called him Ouma-sama back then.

That seemed kind of silly, looking back on it. While everyone was at school or work, Kokichi would stay in that little apartment and watch anime for hours, sometimes making nasty little bills disappear through some light, white collar crime. Well, it wasn't always anime he watched while committing tax fraud. Sometimes he would watch game shows or browse the internet while sending emails that would topple companies in just the right way so that rice cakes would be on sale the next week. He memorized a lot of different security detail layouts while lazing around and rerouting rubber horse mask deliveries to the CEO of the Towa corporation because their stupid TVs were too expensive. He also played a lot of video games. Like… a lot a lot. Most of his time was spent playing video games now that he thought of it...

Recalling those times now felt like looking down at half of a person. Or more like looking back at someone who didn't know he was a person yet.

Except now he was a person and he knew that he was one and he was on a plane by himself because he wanted to sulk defiantly. Wait sulk? Sulking? Was that what he was doing?

Well yeah, maybe he was a bit bummed about Saihara. He hadn't been able to think about that earlier because if he thought about the pit of disappointment sapping in the back of his head it might suck the rest of him in too and then he'd be no use to anyone. But now he was alone and it didn't matter how he felt about anybody and somehow he was still confused by it.

Maybe Saihara just wasn't the hot shit Kokichi thought he was. Actually, Kokichi was probably just being dumb for expecting more. Or, on the other hand, Saihara might just be doing things the right way. Tracking an internationally traveling thief through flight records was logical, but somehow knowing how the trick was done made it lose a little bit of magic. Or all of it, seeing as magic isn't real and all. Maybe Kokichi had just been excited by the possibility that Saihara had presented, and thus blew his minor deductive talent out of proportion.

Obviously whatever had made Saihara so interesting to him was of no consequence now, because the detective wouldn't be able to find them with his little method this time, what with DICE staggering out the ticket buying and all. He wasn't even going to leave a note to Interpol this time around. And so the semi-epic story of Shuichi v. Kokichi would end here.

Then Kokichi could just keep leading DICE in heists. Forever. He guessed. He didn't know, actually, what the long term plan was vis a vis their ever escalating chain of petty thefts. Bishop had said they made ¥2,000,000 this month. Kokichi didn't even know how much they had saved up in out of country bank accounts. It seemed like too much.

What was he supposed to say about that to DICE though? Ok guys, we’re making too much money actually, time to slow it down a bit and face the fact that we've wasted our young lives on being only mildly disruptive to but somehow somewhat supportive of the institution of capitalism.

Then what would happen after that?

When he started planning these heists, Kokichi had never really thought of an “after” to becoming an internationally wanted thief. He had seen it as the end goal. The destiny career.

How do you end that?

Maybe he should just pull a Ryo from GX except instead of a heart condition killing him he could just jump off a-

“Ladies and gentlemen,” The crackling voice of the Captain over the plane intercom interrupted the train of thought Kokichi was having as well as where he was in his mental Detective Conan Kaito Kid best hits Marathon, “As we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you.”

Uh. What? This was a twelve hour flight and that sounded an awful lot like a landing announcement. Was the Captain on crack or someth-

Kokichi realized that the sky outside the window he had been spacing the fuck out through was dark now. Even more telling of the passage of time, though, was the fact that he was on episode 703 now, the train one where Kaitou Kid disguises himself as a maid.

In order to function like a real living person who experienced the passage of time, Kokichi banished anime from his brain.

Okay, not thinking about anime anymore… thinking instead about what to do when not on the plane….

Right, he was supposed to wait at the baggage claim until Rook, King, Queen and Jack’s flights came in. Then they would drive to the rendezvous in central Tokyo where they would meet the members who landed at Haneda instead of Narita. Then they would head to the JAXA launch site on one of the islands in the Kagoshima prefecture and Kokichi would lay out the heist plan he came up with on... the…. plane….

Oh... he forgot to do that, didn’t he?

…

See, who needed a nemesis when Kokichi had self foiling down to a science? --- Shuichi Saihara really meant to sleep last night. He really did. He went through the whole thing too, brushing his teeth, putting on a sleep t-shirt, and lying down in the bed. Yet somehow his brain never got the message that it was time to shut down.

Instead, it compulsively lit up with anxiety, which began dueling it out with the half hearted self reassurances he postulated to pretend he was coping.

The afternoon before, Shuichi had returned to the small building which served as his dual purpose home/office to find a slew of missed phone calls and letters. He spent three, gut-wrenchingly guilt-ridden hours sorting through everything from distress calls from potential clients, some well wishes from clients he had been following up with, and worst of all extremely distressed calls from clients he had failed to follow up with in wake of the DICE case.

He felt like the stupidest, most pathetic excuse for a detective on the face of the earth. He knew that he shouldn’t feel that way, but how could he not come to that conclusion with all the evidence that lay before him? Every call and letter was from a person that Shuichi had failed to help because he had somehow decided vainly pursuing international thieves was something only he could do. Maybe early on it had seemed like the logical step to pursue the thieves where interpol couldn’t. Shuichi had just come off of a big bust in the organized crime sector of Towa City, tracing back a series of revenge killings at the behest of a secretive swordswoman, and had been passively keeping up with the DICE case on the side. When he had managed to get his hands on one of the encoded letters sent to Interpol, he was certain DICE was going to hit the Smithsonian, so he and Kaito had gotten on a plane to America. And then they didn’t catch the thief and obviously that was Shuichi’s fault because the evidence was all in his hands if he had only been fast enough… So he got the next letter and pursued the thieves to Paris and he got even closer and when he failed it was even more obviously his fault because he should’ve been smart enough to notice an internationally wanted thief sitting literally right next to him. And then some how he had decided that? Stealing plane records was the next logical step? How did he even get there? It was so obviously over the line… But would he really have been satisfied, then, if he had just given up on the truth? Was he really satisfied now? He couldn’t possibly-

It didn’t matter whether he was satisfied or not. Not everything was about him. He had his own job to do here in Towa City and he had forgotten that for about a month and a half to chase after a group of essentially harmless thieves. There had been four murders in Towa City since then! And Shuichi knew that because four people had called him to investigate them! And Shuichi was aware that people would be calling him about violent crime! And he had seen the evidence that the thieves had a zero casualty count! And yet somehow he still had to have Agent Ishimaru spell it out for him that he should’ve just stayed home!

Okay he was freaking out a bit, things were fine. Interpol was going to take care of DICE now. It wasn't Shuichi's case. He needed to calm down. Stop trying to convince himself there was more to the case. Why would he think he knew the case best when he worked on it for less than half a hear? Interpol had been tracking criminal activity suspected of the organization for nearly a decade now. Then again maybe that was a point against interpol. What if they were in-

Stop! No! Not his case! Stop being suspicious!

Shuichi had other things to focus on now. He had managed to get into contact with most of the people who had left him messages, and to make up for lost time he had decided to try and take up a few cases at a time. Except contrary to his own self-conceited beliefs there were more detectives in Towa City than just him, and everyone who had called him about a case had managed to hire someone else already.

He tried to convince himself this was a good thing, as he lay awake at night. Everything was fine. He wasn’t failing anyone. There were so many other capable detectives in Towa city. No reason to be concerned.

Yeah, nobody needed him, the pathetic detective he was anyway. He hadn’t even managed to get close to catching DICE’s leader, let alone the nine other members of the group…

Well maybe he had gotten pretty close. He remembered grappling with the thief in Taipei and Milan. The close contact with the pilferer of his pursuit only made Shuichi’s own incompetence more frustrating, his mistakes made more obvious in the light of hindsight.

He really wanted to know why-

Not his case. God what an idiot. What had Dr. Iruma diagnosed him with after the thief escaped? Ah that’s right, shit for brains.

… That reminded him, he should follow up with the Idabashi labs people. He had gotten so caught up in making sure he stayed on DICE’s tail that he forgot to even perform the most basic courtesy in his practice as a detective. Being able to check up with clients, bystanders, and victims without risking a witness tampering charge was one of the main benefits of being a private detective versus being a police detective. When he had started his private practice Shuichi had promised himself that now that he could put the people involved in a case before the case itself he would do so to the best of his ability. He usually took much better care to address concerns of breaking and entering victims, what had he been thinking leaving the labs immediately to pursue DICE? Dr. Iruma had still been uncertain if her friend would recover from being shut down right in front of her! Shuichi was shocked at his own behavior. It was the kind of awful thing he would have pulled as a reckless teen detective, pursuing the truth without regard for who he accused or lied to along the way. The resurfacing of this behavior seemed appalling to him now.

He should call Idabashi labs right away to apologize.

It was this thought that finally stirred him from his half-awake stupor at 4 AM. At realizing the time, the part of Shuichi’s brain that was still capable of higher reasoning decided that calling would be rather rude at the hour, but he was too anxious he’d forget to call at all if he postponed now to abandon the idea altogether. In compromise, he took out his laptop and began drafting a letter to Dr. Iruma instead, expressing his regrets and apologies of every little thing he could think of. The broken windows, the used bomb, the cup of coffee he had made in her kitchen without asking…

He was typing and retyping the sign off at the end of the letter (Sincerely was a good stand bye but not very personal? Concernedly? Too personal. Thank you for your time? Ugh not the right tone) when he heard the knock at the door.

Shuichi blinked, breaking the trance-like state that he now realized had led him to write a four page letter. He looked at the grandfather clock on his mantle. It read 10:31 AM. Which meant it was actually 8:27 AM because that clock was 2 hours and 4 minutes fast and Shuichi was too afraid he might break it to try and fix it.

Maki had promised to pick him up at 8:30 so by process of logical deduction Shuichi could safely assume that it was her outside, coming to bully him for being sleep deprived.

Sure enough, the sound of the spare key he’d given her and Kaito could be heard jiggling in the door knob. Maki opened the door.

The desk Shuichi was working at was in his client reception area, which was unfortunately immediately in view of anyone opening the door. Maki locked eyes with him almost instantly, and the look in hers was that of disappointment.

“And here I was thinking you might actually be asleep.”

“Uh. Sorry.” Shuichi said, closing his laptop. Then he opened it again. “Hey if you were apologizing to someone for not catching a burglar in their home/place of work and then leaving while their friend was sick so that you could chase said crook to another continent, would you sign the letter ‘sincerely’ or with something more like ‘once more expressing deepest apologies...”

Maki frowned, coming in and closing the door. “I’m not good at apologies. Those both sound polite but, knowing you, you probably didn't do something you would actually need that level of politeness to apologize for.”

“Um.” Shuichi went with ‘deepest apologies, -Shuichi Saihara.’ “Better safe than sorry?” He hit print. The printer his laptop was connected to was upstairs in the office where he kept his case files, so he had to run up the stairs to grab the printed letter.

Maki, seeming to sense he was going to need a second to put his four page letter in an envelope, sighed and came into the building from the entryway. She took off her shoes, heading towards the kitchen in the next room over.

When Shuichi got back down stairs with his four page apology letter safely tucked away in an envelope with a nice international stamp on it, he came into the kitchen to find Maki unplugging his coffee maker.

Both took a moment to register what one another was holding in their hands. Then they both frowned disapprovingly.

“Maki come on…” Shuichi protested weakly. “I don’t want to fall asleep at the JAXA open house.”

“Shuichi you’re at ten-page-apology-letter crazy right now and you think caffeine is going to help you?”

“Yes.” Uh. Wait. Was that healthy? “Maybe.” Probably not. “It’s only four pages.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Okay Shuichi was not on the winning side of logic here that much was clear. But still…

“Okay you win.” Shuichi relented, moving toward the kitchen counter as if to set down the envelope in his hands.

The second he dropped it, he made a mad lunge for the coffee maker cord. Maki effortlessly pulled it out of the way and grabbed his wrist, twisting him into a lock and then bringing him to a pin on the ground.

“What was the plan there?” She asked. Was it just him or did she sound bemused? He couldn’t really look at her face to garner her expression because his own face was currently smashed against the tile of his own kitchen.

“No plan.” Shuichi admitted through a mouthful of the floor. “Only caffeine withdrawal.”

“Okay.” Shuichi felt his center of gravity flip once more, “You’re sleeping in the car.” Shuichi realized that Maki had scooped him up into a princess carry too late to actually do anything about it.

“Hey!” Shuichi protested, a little indignant.

Being close friends with Maki Harukawa came with the knowledge that you were going to be treated like you weighed less than a ragdoll from time to time. She had a tendency to muscle her way through social interactions if at all possible. Her significant other just gave her a compliment she didn’t know how to deal with? Punch him. That guy at work wouldn’t stop talking to her about his fucking car? Walk through a door and close it in his face if he tries to follow. Her best friend wants to make a series of regrettable decisions? Physically prevent him from doing so because he is easier to lift than a handful of grapes.

Shuichi had been friends with Maki for about seven years now, and he knew this all well enough, but that didn’t mean he had to go down without a fight. “Maki I have to get my letter to the-”

“Shuichi when you get back to that letter tomorrow morning you’ll be embarrassed you even wrote it.”

Okay, maybe Shuichi would go down without a fight. Maki made a good point, Shuichi was very often embarrassed by things he himself did while off his daily recommended prescription of z’s and or caffeine.

“Okay! I give! You’re right.”

“I know.” Maki had gotten to the front door and seemed to be puzzling out how to open it with her elbow.

“Here I can walk by myself.” Shuichi made a move to roll out of Maki’s arms, but she was still gripping his shoulder in place.

“Walk to the car by yourself or walk to your kitchen and feed your caffeine addiction?” She looked down at him with a stern expression that implied only one correct answer.

“The car.” Shuichi relented.

“Alright then.”

Maki set him down and opened the door while he grabbed his coat from the closet.

She gave him another look.

“What is it?” Shuichi thought she was scrutinizing his appearance, so he mentally did the same. “Oh! I forgot to do my eyes-” Today his morning routine had been: get out of bed, go to computer, write apology letter, whereas usually it went: get out of bed, apply eyeliner, worry about inadequacies, drink coffee, feel marginally better. Shuichi had skipped the second step, and he was about to rush to the bathroom to correct it, but Maki grabbed his arm.

“Shuichi we’re going to Tanegashima in August. It’s 30 degrees there. Your eyes are going to melt. Along with the rest of you.”

Shuichi took a moment to realize that Maki herself was wearing shorts and a loose aloha shirt. Meanwhile he was standing here in his baggy sleep t-shirt, skinny jeans, and black trenchcoat.

“Uh.” Shuichi took off his coat and tied it around his waist. “Better?”

“Hmph.” Maki grumbled, walking out onto the sidewalk. “If you die of heatstroke on the way there, I’m not going to your funeral.”

“Not even if Kaito went?” Shuichi followed, locking the door behind him.

“Especially not if Kaito went.” Maki pulled out her keys and unlocked her car, which was parallel parked on the street by Shuichi’s office. “He’d cry like a baby. It would be insufferable.”

Maki’s car was an old black honda that always smelled a little like burnt sugar. With Maki, Shuichi couldn't be sure if the smell came from a baking mishap or the trace of nitroglycerin from a recently fired gun. It was probably both. On hot days the air inside was unbearably warm until the AC was turned on for at least a minute, because the seats were made of a dark, greasy pleather sort of thing that made it its mission to absorb as much heat as possible. Shuichi had a distinct memory of pressing his face against the material to avoid being shot from behind. In fact he sort of had a slideshow of bad memories associated with riding in this car on various high stake chases or on the approach of even more stressful social situations. Yet despite all that, the second Shuichi settled into the passenger seat and pulled the seat belt over himself, he felt more at home than he had pulling up the covers when he’d been trying to sleep last night.

What happened next was embarrassingly predictable. From Shuichi’s point of view it seemed like Maki started the car, he closed his eyes, and then when he opened them his face was pressed against the window and he could see the Towa Bridge Expressway zooming past him.

The road was on the upper side of one of the bridges Towa Corp had built about a decade ago connecting Islands like Tanegashima, Yakushima, and Towa City to the mainland. On the underside of the bridges were bullet trains that ran underwater between the islands.

Regardless of this, all roads feel the same under the wheels of a car you forget falling asleep in.

“Hghh.” Shuichi was half aware that his throat was the thing that just made that noise.

“Wow you got a whole REM cycle in there.” Maki seemed to hear his rooster cry of wakefulness despite the interference of some sort of j-pop song coming out of the car speakers. As Shuichi’s eyes adjusted to the pale daylight stinging his retinas, he could make out that his friend had her eyes fixed on the road. “That must be a new record.”

“If you’re gonna-” Shuichi realized his speech was muffled and that it was because his face was still against the window. He made an effort to sit up straight and started his sentence again, unobstructed. “If you’re going to make fun of me for sleeping the same as not sleeping then why should I even bother?”

“Because your health is your health and that isn’t beholden to my judgement.”

“Everything about me is beholden to judgement.” Shuichi muttered, still thinking miserably about his poor uncle’s good name, which he was most certainly running into the ground by having the office closed for another day. He was working a sum total of NO cases right now. Maybe he should write his uncle an apology letter too. Then again he wouldn’t want to bother him in his retirement… Who would want to have their nice day interrupted by their whining nephew? No one.

“Yeah, you should fix that.” Apparently driving for an hour and a half hadn’t changed Maki’s stance. She still had biting comments about his poor self esteem at the ready.

“Hghk.” Shuichi replied eloquently.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Maki muttered in reply.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing." Maki replied a little too quickly. She was chewing her lip. After a moment of thought she went on. "Well I guess it means something. But I'm still trying to wrap my head around it and I don't want to tell you until I have it phrased right in my mind."

"Hm. Okay."

Shuichi tried to regain faculty over his higher social functions in an attempt to discern what Maki was upset about and to make sure it wasn’t anything that he did. But while he was performing this heroic feat he closed his eyes on accident and then when he opened them again Maki was parking, presumably on the campus of the Tanegashima Space Center.

Shuichi groaned, now finding himself leaned in the opposite direction of the window. “Why does it feel like the part of my brain that produces melatonin is always waiting to get me by surprise?”

“Because you keep trying to drown it in caffeine,” Maki replied readily, seeming to have lost her contemplative mood after another hour of driving, “it’s fighting for it’s life, of course it’s going to use guerilla tactics.”

Shuichi shook the feeling back into his legs as Maki pulled into a spot. He remembered when he used to drive a lot more. When he was on the force he had access to a police cruiser, but nowadays Shuichi had trouble driving a car while he was on his own. He kept having intrusive thoughts about accidentally hitting pedestrians. A lot of grisly murders happened like that. Even now he could picture that guy whose head had been crushed under the wheel of a yakuza boss’s car…

“Come on, we haven’t got all day.” Maki tapped him in the arm with her fist, then got out of the car. Shuichi was going to follow suit, but he paused to check himself for eye crusties in the pull down mirror. He had just regained the mental capacity to remember he didn’t put on his eyeliner and now it was time to be anxious about his appearance again. Well, at least this would probably go better than the last time he encountered a social situation without doing his eyes. He really thought he’d be safe going to ask Keebo about the wi-fi, but he had managed to stumble into a robbery in process, which had then turned into a hostage situation, which had then turned into an all night police investigation and journalists tried to talk to him again and then Dr. Iruma was doing robot surgery and he got chewed out by Ishimaru again and-

“Shuichi?” Maki had ducked her head back into the car. “Are you coming?”

Shuichi startled out his internal anxiety tirade. “Y-yeah! Sorry.” He shut the mirror and opened the door of the car. It took a second to untangle his coat from the seatbelt, but he managed to get out and retie it around his waist.

“Hey…” Maki had locked the car and come around to his side. Her eyebrows were furrowed. “Are you alright?”

“What?” Shuichi blinked. Did he really look that bad? “No, yeah, I’m fine.” It only occurred to him he was kind of lying for no reason after he said it. “I mean, well. I’m just like. Embarrassed about not being able to see that case I was doing through all the way to the end. Like, I’m thinking about all the ways I messed it up, you know?”

Maki nodded. “Yeah. I feel that way too. About my own stuff. Sometimes. A lot of times. Actually.” Her fingers tangled into a strand of her hair. “But… Well, you know what he would say about it already, don’t you?”

Oh yeah. “Probably something like… the past is the past. What really matters is what you do now.” Just thinking about what Kaito would say made him feel better... He shook his head. “I really should just get ‘what would Kaito do’ tattooed on my brain…”

“Yeah, as long as you’re not in a haunted house.” Maki pointed out.

Shuichi laughed. “Yeah… I guess so…”

Maki looked down at her feet, still carding her hands through her hair.

“I’m… Going to miss him.” She confessed.

Shuichi suddenly felt extremely guilty. Here Maki was trying to keep his anxiety from preventing the performance of his every day functions and he had totally neglected to consider she was going through a lot right now too. Shuichi knew that Kaito had been a lifeline for Maki for a long time, and even though she was in a much better place now Shuichi would be much less of an awful friend if he had realized how much harder Kaito’s absence would hit her.

“What’s with that expression?” She muttered. Shuichi realized he was making a very fretful face. “Ugh. Nevermind, talking about this is pointless anyway…”

“It’s not pointless!” Shuichi rebutted quickly. “Of course you’ll miss Kaito. Talking about your feelings is an important step in processing them… And you know I want to be here for you if you ever need that. I’m your friend.”

“Yeah.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “I know.” She was chewing her lip again. “Uh. Thanks. Sorry if I’ve been kind of… mother henning you today. It’s just. I don’t want to be… Alone again.”

Now Shuichi really felt like a bad friend. “Oh, Maki-”

Shuichi was interrupted by the 2012 song ‘Space Unicorn’ blasting from Maki’s phone. Whenever Shuichi heard that song, it reminded him of udon noodle soup, because that’s what he’d been eating in the college cafeteria when Kaito set it as his ringtone in Maki’s phone.

“Ugh. I hate that song.” Maki took the phone out of her pocket. “We’ll talk later.” She told Shuichi, before answering the call.

“What is it.” Shuichi overheard Maki’s side of the conversation. “We just parked… Yeah… Where?... That’s troublesome… I’m kidding… Ok, see you there… Gross.”

She hung up.

“He says he’s waiting for us by the bus terminal at the museum. Which is on the other side of the campus.”

Oh, Kaito… “It’s like he’s making us run laps again…”

“I’ll try not to leave you behind.” Maki offered, kindly.

“Hey, maybe I’ll be able to keep pace…” Shuichi postulated. “I’ve been in a lot of chases recently.”

“You won’t be.” Maki said, already jogging in place.

“I’ll try my best…” Shuichi promised. --- Kokichi Ouma found himself wondering where exactly that big old brain of his had wandered off to. He knew that by all accounts he was very good at coming up with plans on the fly. Yet for some reason the performance of the actual organ that processed his mental functions was lacking at the moment. Like it didn’t know it was supposed to be the brain of an internationally wanted criminal today. Spontaneity was supposed to mean fun for him, but for some reason this whole build a plane plan seemed more like a point of stress than anything else. Which was weird because Kokichi didn’t usually get stressed. There was just something about this heist that he wasn’t looking forward to and he couldn’t identify what exactly it was or how exactly he was supposed to get around it.

Kokichi was still trying to halfass his way to a half decent plan when DICE reunited in Tokyo. And on the drive down to the Kagoshima prefecture he had more than enough time to think about a plan. In fact he had another 15 hours. And he just… Didn’t. He just didn’t think of a plan. He just sat around pretending to be sociable and analyzing the rest of the group’s conversations and sleeping habits. He thought that maybe he was anxious about them scheming behind his back again, but realizing that he was anxious should have made the being anxious go away, so he decided that it wasn’t that.

So when they finally did arrive at the Tanegashima Space Center in their stolen Space Center Tour bus the next morning and everyone huddled in the backmost rows of seats to hear what exactly the plan was, Kokichi had to pause for a second.

Uh. Okay. Plan time.

“You may not have noticed,” Kokichi started off after compiling some observations in his head, “But there’s an open house happening at this facility for JAXA employees and family members right now. We’re going to capitalize on that for our fakeout heist, which will be centered around the museum’s gift shop.” Right because the open house wouldn’t let them have access to the non-touristy shit. “Rook, King, Bishop, you’re going to be on that.” Ugh that wasn’t very detailed. “The fake mark is…” Fuck think of something stupid. “As many of those freeze-dried ice cream things as you can carry.” Okay that left him with 7 pieces for the real heist. “Jack, Clubs, Spades you’re on floor duty, make sure to call in suspicious personnel, we have the map of the space center in the heist planning chat.” He had remembered to do that much at least. “So spread out as much as you can.” Four pieces. “Queen, you know what you need. Get Ace to handle transport.” Should he really be delegating that much power to Queen after his little upstart? Or did it just show insecurity to not trust him? Too late to contemplate. “When you get back to the bus, text us and then take off ASAP.” The jet engine would take up most of the tour bus, so they had to get an alternative means of escape. “Hearts, you and I are going to disable security systems and get the secondary escape car.” That was something he knew how to do at least. “Any questions.”

Kokichi would usually expect a hearty “No sir!” to that concluding statement, but instead he observed a smattering of queer looks from the car full of clowns.

Hearts was the first to pipe up. “Uh, boss, your plan for disabling the security system wouldn’t happen to involve getting into the vents, would it?”

“Yeah.” There wasn’t really a better way to covertly sneak around a facility like this when their identities may be compromised. “What about it?”

Kokichi really didn’t have time for Hearts’s whole ‘I don’t like getting vent dust on my white uniform’ thing. He would just pretend like the whole group misheard him and he assigned her to ground duty in the first place if she said she wanted to swap-

“No, I just think maybe I could handle the security system myself.” Oh. That was a new one. “There’s not really a need for you to... You know, risk yourself.”

Kokichi was suddenly made aware of the bandage that was still wrapped around his forehead. He consciously resisted the urge to graze his hand over it. He didn’t want to play into the whole damaged goods bullshit that was going on right now in terms of how his subordinates were viewing him. Then again maybe that’s exactly what he should do…

“Believe me, I’ve considered the consequences,” Kokichi compelled himself to shed a single tear, clenching his fist like a shounen anime protagonist. “And though I may be suffering great pain and personal injury… I’ll risk it if it means not letting my friends down…”

Queen rolled his eyes, seeming to buy Kokichi’s bit, but Hearts still looked concerned, and now King was getting ready to add his two cents.

“Uh, Boss.” Ugh him and his stupid Nurse’s license, “It’s really fine if you wanna stay back…” Maybe if Kokichi cried he could derail this? “Your head is still healing and if, you know, an accident happens, you could re-open it and then we might have to suture...”

No, crying would just make him look worse now. The power dynamic would make it look like he was trying to convince King to let him go on the heist, which didn’t make sense at all. Maybe he could slot himself into a different group? No, most elements of this plan involved being in civilian wear and that’d just remind his crew about that time he just casually let a detective get a police sketch done of him like one of his french girls. Besides, he didn’t strictly need to participate in every step of this heist anyway. Kokichi’s real goal here was to maintain the idea in his subordinates’ minds that he was not a twerp trying to find the most unreliable time to bleed out. Hmm, okay, let’s go with this then.

Kokichi flashed an incredulous grin before smothering it into an exaggerated damsel expression. “Oh,,, I hate to admit it, but you’re so right, King.” He leaned over dramatically, “Every second is torture in this frail body of mine, it’s taking all my strength just to stand here before you!” He wasn’t standing but that was probably the easiest thing he was lying about right now, “I guess I’ll just have to.. Stay here, and.. Regain my strength… While you guys do all the work.” He pulled out the handkerchief he just remembered he had and was going to blow his nose into it before he remembered at the last second it wasn’t his handkerchief. He settled for a grotesque imitation of blowing his nose instead. He lay down across the back seat in a faint. “Ohh, alas, I fear I am not long for this world…”

   “I vote we leave him here to die.” Jack bought in, rolling her eyes.

   “I second the motion.” That was Queen, and yeah, Kokichi had expected that much.

   “Hey, since when is this a democracy?” Kokichi sat up, adjusting the fluidity of his motions to reflect perfect health once more.

   “Since our boss died,” Jack wiped away a fake tear with her finger. “I miss him every day… Sometimes I even hear his voice…”

Kokichi tossed aside the handkerchief and took a bag of chips out from the seat in front of him where he had seen Bishop stash them earlier. He poured the chips into his own lap and then crumbled up the bag into a ball before throwing it at Jack’s face.

Jack, in turn, batted it away, and it hit Spades, who caught it and threw it back at Jack, who dodged, which led the bag to hit Rook instead. Rook picked it up and got ready to throw it again, but Hearts took it out of their hands, leading to Rook just throwing air at Clubs, who squealed despite nothing actually hitting him and jumped out of his seat.

Okay, success. Concern about Kokichi’s injuries had all but dissipated as Club’s reaction got a smattering of giggles.

“Wow,” He remarked to Hearts, who was still holding the crumpled chip bag. “I’m sure a dove of peace such as yourself can handle the security system all on your lonesome.” He gestured to his lap, which was still covered in chips. “As you see I have other business to attend to.” He picked up one of the chips and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly. When he finished the first chip he issued his final direction. “You guys better get started on your assignments. I’ll be here when you need to hijack the second getaway car.”

“Yes, Boss!” Most of his crew said the words more for their ritualistic purpose of ending the team huddle rather than out of genuine enthusiasm. They collected their gear, mostly stored in beach bags and casual purses, and filtered out of the van one by one. Everyone was still in their civilian clothing, so they’d blend right in with the crowds of tourists and open-house-goers.

And then Kokichi was alone again. Except instead of a plane he was on a tour bus. Eating chips off his lap. He got through them in about four minutes, which he estimated was about how long it would take DICE to get out of sight’s distance from the bus. When that time had passed, he licked the remaining salt and grease of his fingers and then stood up, brushing chip crumbs off his lap. Once he was clean, he picked up the handkerchief he had thrown aside earlier. He folded it up along the crease lines into a square, and put it in his pocket again. He convinced himself it was just because he wanted something to do.

He went up to the driver’s seat, sitting down. He didn’t have his license to drive a normal car, let alone a bus, but it didn’t really matter because the bus’s windows were reflective from the outside. They had parked the tour bus close to the entrance in the bus lane, so Kokichi had a good view of the people coming and going from the space center. If he had put any effort into this plan at all, he might’ve stationed Club or Spade here as a look out. Well, he guessed he was the look out now. Hah. Great.

….

BORED. He was bored again. Hgghghgfffkk.

He considered hitting his head against the horn of the car just to do something and by “considered” he meant he tried to actually do it but missed and almost hit his head on the dashboard before stopping and realizing that was a bad idea. For one, honking the horn would just make the vehicle look conspicuous, which was not ideal for a getaway car. And then there was also the fact that his plan had needlessly included bashing his head again which could open his cut and just cause a big hassle when King got back with his whole ‘I’m a licensed practical nurse’ thing he had going on.

So, okay. No horn honking. Right.

Kokichi took out his phone and checked Discord. The channel for heists had no new notifications. He put his phone away again.

God he was going to die in here. Wow, needy much? Shut up brain. Um.

Kokichi leaned over, smushing his chin against the dashboard, and occupied himself by looking at the passersby and picking out random details to build conspiracies about them. That guy’s shirt was untucked, untucked had eight letters in it, magic eight balls could see the future, eight balls were round, you know what else is round? An eyeball. Illuminati, natch. Next. That woman’s achilles tendon was chapped even though she was wearing sandals, which meant she wore heels a lot. Heel was something you said to train a dog. Who was trying to train the human race like dogs? The Illuminati. Next. That guy had really ugly hair. Looked like he used a lot of gel. Gel has three- wait, what?

Kokichi recognized that dumb hair style. It was almost like… No, it couldn’t be. The guy who had been with Saihara at the Smithsonian. What?

Kokichi didn’t let himself get excited until he spotted the slightly less dumb and slightly more familiar haircut on the guy standing next to him.

There was Shuichi Saihara, who was, apparently, the best detective in the world. Also, he was wearing a T-shirt, which was hilarious because he usually wore business casual button ups under his dark trench coat. Kokichi could see his arms, which were-

Wait, no, forget about his arms. How did any part of him even get here? How did he know? There wasn’t any way- Did he lie? HE LIED TO INTERPOL.

Wow, Saihara had more balls than Kokichi had originally anticipated. He should get out there and tickle them a little.

Kokichi started reformulating everything he had originally thought about this heist. If Saihara was going to buy into the phony heist he would have to get into the mix himself. How much would the detective have learned from their last bout in Milan? He knew about Kokichi’s head injury, surely. Kokichi stood up and headed for the door out of the bus. He would have to make his approach subtly, but the buffoon probably wouldn’t be much trouble to deal with. If anything he might make Saihara easier to trick. They were on the move, Kokichi would have to catch up. Was that woman in the hawaiian button up with them too? Yeah, it seemed like it. When she paused to look around, they paused too, looking back, presumably to see what was keeping her. Her eyes were scanning the crowd like she was some kind of terminator bot or something-

Every part of Kokichi froze when that gaze slipped past his.

He saw her face in that moment. Blunt brunette bangs. A dark birthmark. Blood red eyes.

For one shallow breath, a metallic tang poisoned the air in his lungs.

The eyes glanced unnotably over the JAXA tour bus. And then the red woman just... turned and walked away.

Saihara followed her into the building.

Kokichi sat back down.

…

…

What the fuck was she doing here. --- Shuichi Saihara’s best, it turned out, was most certainly not enough to keep pace with Maki Harukawa in a run across the Tanegashima Space Center’s beautiful green campus. Shuichi had plenty of time to admire that beautiful green color the grass had as he stood doubled over trying to catch his breath in front of the center’s main entrance.

Maki was standing by Kaito, breathing perfectly fine with only a modest sheen on her forehead as evidence of the run. Meanwhile, Shuichi was over here sweating through his t-shirt and trying not to let his lungs burst.

“Is he okay?” Kaito not so quietly whispered to Maki.

“He will be.” Maki replied, “He’s just an idiot who decided black skinny jeans were the way to go even though it’s the middle of the sunny season…”

“In my… Defense…” Shuichi panted out between gulps of air. “I didn’t… know… I’d be… running…  today…”

“Hey man, sweat’s just another word for hard work.” Kaito claimed, coming over to pat Shuichi on the back. “Awesome effort, sidekick.”

“Thanks… Kaito…” Shuichi was still trying to suppress his aching lungs into a normal pattern of breathing.

“Hold your hands over your head.” Maki advised, “It’ll open up your chest.”

Oh right, right. Shuichi should know that by now. He moved up from his hands-on-knees-to-make-sure-he-didn’t-fall-over position to one where his arms were up with his hands on his head. Immediately he found breathing easier, although the air was just as hot and stifling as before.

“You know,” Maki was looking at Kaito now. “We wouldn’t have had to run if you had been more specific before I paid for the parking permit… You said you wanted to show us the launch spectation sites, so our car is parked all the way out there...”

“Well, yeah, I did say that…” Kaito was characteristically unflustered by the accusation, “but, then I realized it would be better to show you guys the museum building first! This way we can take our time looking at the launch viewing sites without having to worry if the museum will be open or not later...”

Shuichi wondered if that was just an excuse for Kaito changing his mind about hiking when he realized how hot it was today.  Kaito had a tendency to be a little unreliable when it came to making plans with friends, but then again Shuichi also had a tendency to forgive him for that.

Maki usually did not. So when Maki just sighed and shook her head, Shuichi took that as a signal to let Kaito off the hook on this one.

…

It was so strange to think that in just another week, Shuichi wouldn’t be able to make any plans with Kaito at all…

Ugh. He shouldn’t think about that right now.

“Hey, what’s with the sour looks, you two?” Kaito’s words made Shuichi aware of his own conflicted expression, “Come on, I know what’ll cheer you up!” Kaito turned, walking towards the entrance and gesturing for them to follow him with a sweeping arm movement.

Shichi complied, but stopped when he noticed Maki wasn’t moving with them.

Instead, she was scanning the parking lot behind them with a dangerous look in her eyes…

“... Maki?” Shuichi asked hesitantly.

She didn’t seem to register him, but Kaito did, turning back around.

“Is something the matter, Maki Roll?” He called.

That seemed to snap her out of it. “It’s nothing.” She shook her head and started walking into the building. “Let’s go inside.”

“Hey, what’d I say about secrets?” Kaito confronted her, but he followed her through the doors anyway, Shuichi not far behind him.

“I never agreed to that…” Maki muttered, still walking. “But it really isn’t anything. I just felt like someone was watching us out there…”

Shuichi felt a chill go down his spine. He had also felt something off, but he thought it was just a him thing. He had been seeing the faces of DICE in random passerby ever since he touched down in Tokyo and it was setting him on edge even though he knew his suspicions were completely unsubstantiated. In fact there had been that big tour group of 9 or 8 people that passed them by while they were at the entrance... Could-

“Oh well, they probably were,” Kaito shrugged, “You know, I’m a famous astronaut and all.”

Oh. Yeah. Duh. Maybe the chill Shuichi had felt was just the museum’s AC …

“That isn’t…” Maki cut herself off, seeming to think better of whatever she had been about to say. “You’re probably right. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Alrighty, whatever you say, Maki Roll.” Kaito moved forward as if the issue was entirely settled and had maybe never been unsettled in the first place. “Now come on! I want to show you something!”

What Kaito had wanted to show them turned out to be a series of star maps that were up for display as a promotion for the upcoming launch. Included were larger infographics about which lights in the sky were actually satellites, but those weren’t what Kaito was interested in.

“Look!” He exclaimed, pointing at a section of one of the maps, “Right here! What do you see?”

“Stars?” Maki asked, looking mildly amused by her boyfriend’s enthusiasm.

“Well, yes but…”

“Oh!” Shuichi exclaimed, now pointing as well. “I recognize this one! It’s the beard of despair!”

He was pointing to a circle of stars that he and Maki had named after the cheek to cheek beard Kaito came back from his winter break with in their last year at Towa Community College.

“Hey, that’s right!” Maki exclaimed.

“Why is that the only one you guys remember…” Kaito grumbled.

Come to think about it, a lot of the stars looked familiar… “Are these the stars that appear over TCC?”

“Well, it varies depending on the season, but yeah that’s what we were looking at most of the time!”

Shuichi was overcome with a wave of nostalgia. He first met Maki and Kaito when he had been doing the mandatory two years of training it took to become a Towa City police officer after he had passed the national exam. He had been disillusioned with a future in his uncle’s practice because the idea of getting paid to dig up dirt had skeezed him out, not to mention that he still had huge doubts about his own ability as a detective to earn a living off of it. A police detective had seemed like a more secure, if more restricting, job than private detective work.

Well, maybe it was more accurate to say that Kaito had met Maki and Shuichi and then decided they were all going to be friends because he said so. He used to make them meet him in the school court yard every night after dark to do exercises of various kinds. Sometimes they put aside exercise in lieu of star gazing when Kaito was in the mood.

“Hey, do you remember when Kaito told us which planets he thought were most like us?” Maki asked Shuichi, probably remembering the same times he was, “And when we asked him what planet he was, he said the sun?”

Shuichi squinted. “Oh yeah… I think I remember…” he vaguely recalled thinking that the planet Kaito assigned him was weird, but he didn’t remember why or which planet it was.

“Well, now that I know more about space and stuff, I think he was right.”

“Aww… Maki Roll.”

She smiled a little. “Yeah… The sun is a big ball of gas, just like him.”

“Hey!” Kaito smacked his chest, acting as if taken aback, but Shuichi was pretty sure he was secretly delighted that Maki admitted to knowing more about space now.

Maki laughed, “This is what you get for talking about astronomy every night…”

Shuichi remarked to himself how long it had taken for Maki’s laugh to seem commonplace in a conversation. She was really a lot more open then she had been when they spent those first few nights under the stars. It was understandable, though, considering…

“Which planets did you say we were again?” Shuichi found himself asking.

“Hm?” Kaito paused, squinting for a second in thought. “Uh… I’m pretty sure it was…”

“You said I was Mars,” Maki supplied, “And I think Shuichi was Venus.”

“Oh yeah!” Kaito made a sort of ‘That’s it!’ gesture with his palm and fist, “Maki was Mars because she tried to seem dry and uninhabitable, but there was definitely a frozen ocean in there somewhere, and Shuichi, you were Venus, because even though you thought you tried to blend in with the stars all the time, sometimes you could appear in the day as a second sun!”

Huh. That was pretty nice to say, but Shuichi wasn’t sure it was what he remembered…

“Oh, wait.” Maki interjected, “Didn’t you say something else last time?”

“Hm?” Kaito put on his ‘I’m remembering something’ face again. “Did I say… Oh yeah!” He laughed. “I said Venus suited Shuichi because Venus is the goddess of love and Shuichi’s clients keep falling in love with him!”

Shuichi suddenly remembered exactly why he had been so offended by Kaito’s characterization of him all those years ago.

Maki gave him a bemused look, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the face you made last time too...”

“Yeah, that’s because it’s a really weird thing to say about my clients Kaito…”

“Oh yeah?” Kaito grinned now that he wasn’t the one being teased, “You can’t say I’m really wrong though, bro…”

Shuichi shook his head, “A detective can’t think that way about his clients! It’s exploitative!”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t stop them from thinking that way about you…” Maki pointed out.

“I- What- Maki-” Shuichi did not want to talk about this actually, he turned to Kaito hoping for some kind of escape, but his so-called friend just shook his head.

“You gotta face facts some time, Shuichi. You’re a heart-throb!”

“I don’t know what you mean…” Shuichi was finding that there was nowhere to hide his face and he cursed himself for letting Kaede talk him out of wearing his hat again.

“What about that girl who gave you chocolates?”

Oh, why had he told Maki that story?

“They were just for gratitude-”

“What about the guy who invited you on his yacht?”

Maybe asking his friends to help him out on cases all these years had been a mistake…

“That was to set up a trap for the-”

“The person who asked you out for dinner?”

Hghk.

“That was only to meet another contact-” “But then the contact didn’t show up and it was just the two of you.”

“They got in a car accident!”

What about the guy who pretended to be your husband on a plane? His own brain supplied rather unhelpfully.

*Bweeeeoop* *Bweeeeoop* *Bweeeeoop*

Shuichi had never been so grateful to hear an alarm sound off in his entire life.

Maki and Kaito stopped railing into him, looking around as if to see where the noise was coming from.

“I didn’t even know we had one of those…” Kaito muttered, barely audible over the continuing beep of the alarm. “I’m going to go ask someone what’s going on.” He declared, before storming off into a door marked ‘employees only.’

Maki, seemingly unperturbed by the sign, was about to follow him, but Shuichi grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” He said, retracing his own memory, “Come with me, please.”

“What?” She looked at him like he was crazy. “Where are you going?”

“Somewhere I’m more likely to get in a fight than Kaito…” Under scrutiny, Shuichi found that he didn’t recall seeing that group of suspicious tourists among the exhibits… They disappeared at the entrance, which was by the...

Shuichi started making a beeline for the gift shop, untying his coat and wrestling it onto his shoulders as he went.

“You two are so high maintenance…” Maki grumbled, following him nonetheless.

Sure, Shuichi had thought his gift shop theory was pretty on point, but when he got to the doorway of said gift shop the cartoonishly big mallet coming down over his head took him by surprise.

Maki grabbed him, pulling him back just in time. “Watch where you’re going, idiot.” She scolded him before grabbing the hammer and pulling it out of the hands holding it, which were the gloved hands of, you guessed it, a clown with a checkered scarf, standing over the doorway and poised to pounce.

This wasn’t one of the DICE members Shuichi recognized, but it seemed that they recognized him.

“What the hell is this guy doing here?” They called back into the shop, where Shuichi realized two other DICE members were shoving freeze dried ice cream into a bag, before diving down and trying to sweep Maki’s feet from under her. Maki jumped up and tried to use the gravity of her dodge to kick the clown in the head, but the clown rolled away, hopping back up, where Maki was waiting to meet them with their own mallet in the face.

Shuichi heard a sickening crack and the clown crumpled to the floor.

“Rook!” The leaner looking of the two members grabbing ice cream dropped his bag and ran up to help his friend.

“Maki!” Shuichi exclaimed, rather horrified at this level of violence, “They’re just thieves!”

“What?” Maki asked, unshaken. When she saw Shuichi’s expression, she blinked as if genuinely confused. Then she straightened up in a gesture that Shuichi recognized as sheepish even though her tone remained flat as she clarified, “That wasn’t the clown’s skull, it was the hammer.” She raised the big mallet to show him the end of it, which had popped off, “This is just a toy.”

“Yeah! That don’t mean it don’t smart, lady!” The one on the floor, ‘Rook’ if their friend was to be believed, waved off the other DICE member, rubbing their face under their mask.

“Was I talking to you?” Maki fixed the clown with her patented death glare, taking the stick of the broken mallet and twirling it into a fighting ready position like a bo staff.

“Where’s your boss?” Shuichi muttered aloud. “And the rest of you for that matter…” Maybe the gift shop was a distraction, it didn’t seem like the most attention had been given to it. Then again if there were something happening further inside the facilities then Kaito’s people were probably wise to it by now, so there might not be any point in wondering...

“I dunno, ask your mom!” The bearded DICE member standing next to ‘Rook’ threw something at him.

Maki acted quickly, hitting the object dead-on with the broken mallet handle before it could smack him in the face. It burst open, and by the time Shuichi realized it was a smoke bomb his eyes were already stinging from exposure.

“Gah!” He exclaimed, hiding his face in his arm to prevent himself from inhaling the smoke.

Maki, however, ignored the smoke, pressing forward into the gift shop.

Shuichi stayed back, blocking the doorway and tried to remember if he had seen an external entrance to the gift shop. The question was dismissed from his mind as he heard the clattering of shattering glass and remembered that these thieves had no qualms about making their own exits. When the smoke cleared, Shuichi saw that Maki was now holding the bag stuffed with freeze dried ice cream. She dropped it and started walking towards the wall of windows opposite to the entrance. She pulled back her hair and grabbed the side of the window like she was going to try and climb out the hole at the top, which the clowns seemed to have escaped out of.

Except… As Shuichi came up the steps from the entrance he didn’t see any clowns beyond the window. Remembering DICE’s knack for misdirection, Shuichi did a quick glance around the room and… There!

“Maki!” He called as he moved forward, “There’s a sliding door back by the register!”

It was open just a jar, and as Shuichi got closer he spotted the last DICE member vaulting over the balcony just outside.

Maki beat him to the door, sliding it open and hopping on the balcony. She paused for a second, then turned back to look at him. “Stay here.” She ordered, as if it had crossed her mind Shuichi might try to scale down the wall as well.

He would have found it weird that Maki would take the time to tell him something so obvious as ‘you would fall if you tried this,’ but Shuichi remembered what Maki had said to him before, about not wanting to be alone again. He nodded in an effort to reassure her. “Right, I’ll call the police.”

She seemed satisfied with this, turning around and shifting off the balcony to climb down the wall. Shuichi, in the meantime, pulled out his phone and called 110. The operator put him through to the Kukinaga substation, which was the Tanegashima police station only four minutes away from the space center. Shuichi reported what had happened, and the substation representative asked him to stay put to give a report to the officers when they arrived. He voiced acquiescence and thanked the representative before hanging up.

And then Shuichi was standing alone in a gift shop with broken glass and a bag full of freeze dried ice cream on the ground. He noticed some things he hadn’t before. For instance, it looked like the gift shop was partially divided into a sort of cafe, with a freezer full of purchasable food and tables by the windows to sit and eat. For some reason, he decided that sitting alone in a gift shop with broken glass and a bag full of freeze dried ice cream on the ground would be marginally better, so he pulled out one of the chairs, sitting at the table.

…

It was weird how much time Shuichi sat around, waiting for things to happen. Well, maybe less weird and more just plain old pathetic… He wasn’t really the action type like Maki and Kaito were. A lot of his work as a detective was done in the aftermath of events. He was usually only trying to figure out what had already happened. This whole DICE thing was a bit of a change of pace, requiring him to be able to predict the next course of events and perhaps even stop potential crimes. Except, well, maybe he wasn’t so good at that part of it… Today was pretty clear evidence of that. This gift shop robbery was obviously a ruse covering up some sort of bigger crime. Something similar had happened in Egypt, where in order to keep one room’s artifacts secure, Shuichi had to alert the actual museum security to take care of things. Except, had that really been the right choice? The entire museum besides the room Shuichi was in were rugless because he refused to take action. Shuichi knew that staying in this gift shop would prevent it from being robbed, but he had to weigh that against the great uncertainty of what was happening elsewhere right now. It just felt shitty, knowing he could do nothing right now but wait. It had been part of the reason being a detective had yucked him out when he was a teen. For a while he had been solving exclusively murder cases, which were the worst way to be reminded his job was usually only useful after the horrible things happen… Maybe working on the DICE case had felt good because so much of the work was preventative. Predicting where DICE would strike next always gave him the hope that the next time would be the last and it would all be thanks to him… How stupid…

A memory flashed through his head

“You’re really something else, Shuichi.” A face very close to his had said.

Maybe that was something else about the case that felt good. Chasing DICE’s leader had been light and exciting. A mystery less pursued out of a sense of requirement or needed justice, but rather because the mystery itself was genuinely intriguing. Shuichi had started out fearing that DICE may have had some sort of tie to organized crime or some sort of international conspiracy, but… After investigating into such ties and looking at all past robberies attributed to them, Shuichi had turned up nothing. It was almost comical how good these clowns were at going about their globetrotting crime-spree untraced. And it was weird that Shuichi kept crossing paths with them by almost complete happenstance. Sure, he had predicted their movements in DC, Paris, Reno, and Milan, but Egypt, Taipei, and now… Yeah, completely by chance. Unless… DICE weren’t following him, were they? No, there really would be no point to that at all… Hah, Shuichi was starting to see why Interpol suspected that he had ties with-

Oh, fuck. Interpol.

For about four minutes, Shuichi had forgotten how much trouble he was going to be in. --- [Log of Text Messages from Kaito Momota’s Cellular Device]

From: Me

Hey where are you guys?

I can’t find you anywhere?

From: My Sidekick

Sorry I’m talking to the police right now

From: Me

What??

Bro

I’m gonna need like

A follow up on that

From: Maki Roll

Did you not know the police were here?

From: Me

Uh no

Should I have?

Oh I get it

They’re here about the alarm right?

Well you can tell them it's nothing to worry about

We figured out that a sleeping security guard tripped it on accident...

From: Maki Roll

The museum got robbed

From: Me

What??

From: Maki Roll

Well Shuichi thinks something was stolen

I’m pretty sure I chased the clowns away though

From: Me

Wait the clowns are here?

From: My Sidekick

Sorry Kaito! I’m back

Maki is being questioned now

The alarm going off was probably staged as part of the distraction

Did you check the other exhibits to see if anything was stolen?

From: Me

Yeah everythings fine we did a whole check

From: My Sidekick

What about other buildings on the campus?

Anything missing?

From: Me

Nope everything is where it should be

From: My Sidekick

Well I guess that’s somewhat of a relief

Although that does open up a lot of questions about what exactly happened here…

From: Me

Shuichi I need you to come down to the Space center building

The one with the rocketship

Like right now

From: My Sidekick

What?

What happened?

Kaito?

From: Maki Roll

Where are you guys?

The police are gone and you’re not by the space center

From: Me

We’re chilling in the museum gift shop

From: Maki Roll

What?

It’s not closed?

Isn’t it a crime scene right now?

From: Me

Nah nothing was really stolen

So me and Shuichi were fixing the window

But now we are c h i l l i n g

From: Maki Roll

Huh

I thought you might be investigating still

From: Me

Nah

Shuichi needed to do something with his hands

From: Maki Roll

Oh so you mean Shuichi was fixing the window and you were watching

From: Me

I was moral support!

From: Maki Roll

You know you won’t be able to get other people to do your chores when you’re in space…

From: My Sidekick

He wasn’t making me do it

It was something I needed to do

To like

Avoid freaking out

From: Maki Roll

Oh

Are you okay?

From: My Sidekick

Yes

I just uh

Lost an entire space engine and i can’t do anything about it

From: Maki Roll

What?

From: Me

He did NOT lose a space engine

He was interrupted while doing an investigation on our STOLEN rocket engine

From: Maki Roll

What????

The engine in your shuttle was stolen???

Are you not concerned about that? You can’t fly without one of those right?

From: Me

Hey we’ll find it!

Or maybe we’ll build a new one

It doesn’t matter I’m going to space no matter what!

From: Maki Roll

Wait and you’re not out looking for it right now?

From: Me

Well Shuichi was having a moment here

And hey when it comes to looking after your ride or looking after your sidekick your sidekick has gotta come first

From: Maki Roll

A moment?

From: My Sidekick

I

Uh

Found out I’m on red notice

From: Maki Roll

What’s that

From: My Sidekick

Uh

It like

Means that

Interpol thinks I should be arrested

But Interpol doesn’t actually have the power to arrest me

So they’ve basically told every recognized country in the world to arrest me if I’m spotted

So maybe Japan will try to arrest me if they find that they agree with interpol that I should be arrested

From: Maki Roll

What??

Did you do something???

From: Me

No! He didn’t!

Get this

Some asshole in a green coat just came up

And told Shuichi that his boss thinks Shuichi is too good of a detective to be doing things legally

But it's like

No actually he really is just that good

From: My Sidekick

Hhhhghhhghghhghg

That was Agent Sakakura

Them sending him means they really want me dead…

From: Maki Roll

That’s so stupid

You’re just doing your damn job

Hey do you want me to kill that guy for you?

Because it sounds like he sucks and I will totally kill him for you

From: Me

No you won’t because killing is not good

But your anger is valid I am also very angry about this

From: My Sidekick

Hghfgfhhghhhgggggggggg

From: Me

Hmmm Maki roll Shuichi needs to vent some more so we’ll stop texting

From: Maki Roll

Ok

I’m bringing the car over

Tell me if you want me to kill someone for you Shuichi

From: My Sidekick

No thank you

But I appreciate the sentiment --- [Log of Messages sent via Discord to “#boss-where-he-shouldnt-be” from ???’s Cellular Device]

Ace: Hey, I know this is like a meme chat

Ace: But it's like the only one boss doesn’t have access to

Ace: And I wanted to know if anyone has noticed anything up with him?

Ace: Because I feel like he’s been kinda weird since we got the rocket

Queen: It’s not a rocket its an engine

Queen: In fact it’s actually only about 2/3s of an engine

King: What do you mean weird?

Queen: Rocket engines are built with mechanisms of fuel oxidization that won’t be strictly necessary for an aircraft that isn’t designed to operate in 0 ppm oxygen environments

Queen: So we’ll have to substitute it with an intake mechanism

Queen: Although the pre-existing combustion mechanism is EXQUISITE

Rook: No one cares queen

Queen: Its an important distinction

Hearts: Queen we have a channel for infodumping

Hearts: rn this channel is for gossiping about boss

Ace: He’s been quiet

Ace: Idk ive been worrying about it

King: Do you think it has to do with his injury?

Ace: Naw like

Ace: I feel like he was actin weird because of that before the space station

Ace: But now he’s actin weird a different way

Ace: Like before he seemed a little terse

Ace: And now he’s like catatonic in conversation

Queen: wym

Queen: I literally talked to him five seconds ago

Rook: no wait that is suspicious

Rook: if I were him I wouldn’tve just sat there and let you yap

Queen: oh shut up

Rook: MAKE ME

Ace: honestly i don’t know

Ace: but like you guys saw that detective guy there right

Ace: Do you think something happened with them that we didn’t see

King: What??

Jack: Oh you mean how boss definitely has a crush on him

King: What?????

Jack: Literally in Paris he dropped his entire 100 page plan just to go bully that guy

Jack: He’s like a middle schooler pulling pig tails

Hearts: Hmm… Hate to bring it down but pulling pigtails is a misogynistic notion that reinforces the normalization of violence against women...

Jack: It's true tho

Jack: My pigtails got pulled all the time because as you all know I am extremely attractive

Hearts: Maybe they were just bullying you darling

Spades: Yeah I can see that /s

Spades: Hey you know who really normalizes violence against women?

Spades: That detective guy

Spades: He flipped me in Milan!

Spades: Guy knows fucking aikido or some shit

Spades: And boss isn’t really a fan of violence

Rook: No wait

Queen: What? I thought he really liked yamikawaii shit

Rook: Even though that guy’s friend literally gave me a black eye

Spades: No I’m pretty sure he hates it

Rook: I see what Jack is saying

Rook: Boss totally has a thing for him

Rook: Like literally you can see the hearts pop into his eyes when he spots that guy

Rook: He dropped a display case on my foot when you told him the detective was in Cairo

Ace: Okay well thats not what I meant though

Jack: What you mean you don’t think he got his heart broken by aged up kid conan

Clubs: Conan’s name in his adult form is Shinichi Kudo.

Clubs: Also I think that talking behind Boss’s back is kind of not cool guys. :(

Spades: If you snitch I’m firing you from being my brother

Clubs: :(

Ace: I just meant like maybe he embarrassed himself platonically

Ace: Or I guess adversarially? Idk whatever word you would use for that

Queen: kismesissitude

Ace: What?

Spades: I will swiftly execute you

King: I mean i guess i could see him getting bent out of shape about that

King: But we were kinda onto the detective the whole time

King: I don’t think they would’ve had time to interact at all

Jack: Maybe he’s just sad he missed him

Ace: Ok sorry I don’t know if he’s sad

Ace: Just maybe in a weird mood

Ace: We haven't been in japan for a while and we haven't stuck around a place for more than a week in an even longer while

Ace: It’s putting me in a weird mood too so maybe that’s it

Hearts: Yeah he always likes to be on the move maybe he’s just antsy

King: Or maybe he feels bad cuz Rook got kinda beat up today?

King: I mean I feel bad about that

Rook: I’m okay <3

King: I know <3

Queen: Gross

Queen: You two are literally sitting right next to each other get a room

Bishop: He seems fine to me

Spades: Oh wow Bishop stopped scarfing for a second to weigh in...

Bishop: And by fine I mean terrible because he just dipped his pork dumpling in his panta right in front of me

Bishop: Also you guys know he can see you texting each other right

Bishop: We’re literally all eating at the same table rn

Queen: Oh yeah

Spades: Oops

[rhodirachel]

Fray | A BTS Fanfiction

Chapters

| FRAY NOTICE |

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 [END] |

Summary

What you thought was your life turned around by losing your job at a publishing company, another unexpected twist occurs as your life crosses into the fate of someone else- a boy by the name of Min Yoongi, a gang member.

Rating: M (for language only)

Words: 2328

Relationship: Min Yoongi (Suga/ Agust D) x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, gang details, violence

                                                    “The bell tolls

                                                     And suddenly

                                                 I can’t bring myself

                                                     To let you go

                                                       Anymore.”

You watched, from a few feet away, your friend making a fool of themselves on the sidewalk; a drunken mess on a cold, December night. Today was Friday, what should have been a pretty good gateway towards the weekend- but not everything runs so smoothly.

Your friend and you both worked at the same book publishing company, or- well, used to. The staff meeting that commenced today was apparently a meeting to downsize the company. They decided they “couldn’t afford” to have as many people, and you and your friend were one of the unlucky departments to be hacked to bits.

Your friend was so angry that all “she wanted to do was drink tonight”. You told her you would watch over her so she wouldn’t be helpless when she got trashed, and obviously you kept your word. Only having a drink or two, you and your friend began to walk home- not without sudden, inebriated outbursts from your friend though.

“Allison, put that gravel down,” you sighed. “It’s not foo- no, Allison oh my God.”

Your friend, Allison, looks at you with glazed eyes and throws the gravel about like it’s a toy.

“Oh c-come on,” she said with a slur, “I’m just having fun!”

You wrapped your hand around her to aid her from falling over herself as you began to walk faster. “I know, but right now you’re having too much fun. Home’s close-by now, so I’m just gonna try and get you there as quick as I can.”

Allison kept stumbling a lot, but it wasn’t enough to fully hinder you from walking faster. She would occasionally giggle and point at random things, but she didn’t outburst too much after you started walking faster.

In no more than ten minutes were you at her house, leading her up the staircase to her apartment in the downtown of your city. You were a little wary, looking around the both of you to see if anyone was around. Looking at your watch, it told you it was 2:30 AM now. You knew that you really shouldn’t be out anymore now, considering what it can get like in the city.

Allison slouched against the door-frame, barely able to stand as she slurred. “Hey, do you wanna spend the night here? It’s really late.”

You sighed and look around, seeing that there really wasn’t anyone out and about. You knew you had a lot of work to do now at home, since you’re now out of a job and have to figure out what to do next. For a moment you considered relaxing for the night and rallying tomorrow, but you stopped yourself. An anxiety was compelling you; behooving you to go home and begin working on something greater.

You sighed and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, I have work to do at home. Thank you anyway, though. And hey, please go to bed right after I leave? It’s really late and you’re not in the right mind right now.”

Allison waved her arm ungraciously, attempting to reassure you. “I will, I will. Don’t worry about me. Try to hurry getting home though- it’s really late… Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

You nodded your head as you walked down the stairs. “Yep. Goodnight!”

Allison sighed as she spoke. “Okay. Goodnight!”

She closed the door as you began to walk down the sidewalk, back to your house. You had to trace your steps, really, since you were practically on the other side of town. Fortunately, though, “on the other side of town” essentially meant about twenty, twenty-five minutes of walking before getting to your home. You knew that Allison’s worrying was valid, though, since it was so late, and so you paid very close attention to your surroundings.

As you walked about, you let the semi-quiet city allure you with its aesthetic. The night sky that loomed from above perplexed you in such a beauteous way, and mixed with the city buildings, it created such a mystical aura. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, reasoning with your inner emotions and logic about the scenery before you.

You laughed to yourself as you thought that would be a great scene for a story. Just this morning, as you were getting out of bed, it was just another day. But now you were jobless; maybe it was time to write your own work? You pondered on this idea. But about what? You knew that you had some story ideas at home, kept in a little book, but you didn’t have access to those at the moment. Evaluating yourself, you told yourself to calm down for the moment and to not get too ahead of yourself. You could do it all when you got home, and especially in the morning.

“Oh, look what we have here?”

Your heart stuttered as you heard those words behind you, mind already beginning to fly with the endless ideas of what could happen to you this late at night, by yourself. You didn’t bother to look behind you, but instead wrapped your arms around you and began to walk faster. Allison was right; you really should have stayed over at her house. Cursing yourself, you pray that everything is going to be okay.

But it isn’t. A group of young guys, seemingly in their twenties, speeds up past you and blocks your way. You try turning around and going the other way, but there is another blockade of them on the other side.

One of the men, with black hair and ebony eyes, swaggers in front of you with a mischievous smile. He comes within only inches between your faces, and you can smell the copious amounts of alcohol that were recently on his tongue.

“What is someone as pretty as you doing outside here in the middle of the night, sugar?”

Your nose crinkled at the pet name as well as the alcoholic stench of his breath. With all of these guys around you, and considering the circumstances, you become increasingly intimidated by the situation at hand. You’ve never had to deal with any situation remotely close to this one, and were increasingly uncertain about what was going to happen next.

The guy began trying to run his hands down your arms and waist, and you quickly pull away in disgust. The palpitations of your heart beat at an expeditious rate, and soon your senses honed into “fight or flight”. You were quick to push him off of you, your senses screaming at you from all inside your body.

“Get the hell off of me!” you exploded.

The guy in front of you laughed, staggering as he tried to stay in one place.

“Oh, come on! You’re no fun.”

His expression quickly settled into one of placid boredom.

“I guess we’ll just have to go with the alternative.”

All of a sudden you felt someone grab your shoulder as a searing pain blooms in your abdomen. You looked down to see that the man was much closer to you now, with a blade sheathed in your torso.

Your eyes widened in complete panic, and you screamed out from the pain. He pulled the knife out of you, and you could see him picking up the purse you had dropped onto the ground.

“What a fucking idiot girl.” He sniggered as you fell to the ground.

Your heart was beating too fast, and you were beginning to breathe too fast as well. Clutching your stomach, you tried crawling away from the man- hoping you could get away, fearful he might try to kill you.

“It won’t do you any good trying to crawl, sugar. You’re just going to bleed out more.”

You gritted your teeth, tears in your eyes at his words. You wanted to scream in rage; you didn’t want to die. You weren’t going to die, or at least that’s what you told yourself. Beginning to feel light-headed, exhaustion quickly took over you as you could now see pools of blood develop around your body.

Out of half-lidded eyes, you saw the man gesture towards his friends to leave.

“Come on, she’s done for anyway. Let’s just take the bag and leave her here.”

“Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You heard the foreign voice from a distance, towards your direction. You wanted to reach out, call for help, but you’re painstakingly exhausted from the blood loss.

You could hear the original son of a bitch behind you, cursing to his group. “Shit, come on guys. Let’s get out of here!”

You could hear their dashing as groups of feet clad the ground over and over. Your eyes couldn’t help but close shut…

“Hey,” the voice sounded like it’s muffled, as if you’re underwater. “Hey! Stay with me!”

You could barely comprehend their words, however. You attempted to fight against your mind, but the latter won as your mind shut down.

Something you wouldn’t have expected was to be able to ever open your eyes again. But there you were, sitting up from a bed- albeit wincing from the movement- and gazing at an unfamiliar spot in which you had been sleeping.

“Don’t sit up like that. It’s just going to mess up all the work I did.”

You jumped at the sudden voice, whipping your head to the corner where a boy sat on an old wooden cart.

“W… What do you mean work?” you gasped, mumbling thereafter, “where am I…”

The boy got up from the box, walking over to you. Reaching for your blanket, he pulled it away and tried reaching for the hem of your shirt.

You pushed yourself away from him, scared. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

“Jesus, relax,” he scoffed, reaching your shirt anyway and pulling it up slightly.

You looked downwards, gazing at now a good-sized stitch across your abdomen. It was certainly going to be a scar; perhaps for the rest of your life. Your hand made its way up to your forehead, moving to push your hair out of frustration.

“That’s what I was talking about. It took a lot of work for me, so don’t mess it up. I’ve had to stitch a lot, but that doesn’t mean it makes the work any easier.” You slowly nodded your head, still in shock and trying to take everything in.

Fumbling with the blanket, you mumbled, “Thank you.”

The boy shrugged his shoulders, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Whatever. Couldn’t have anyone else dying, I guess.”

You looked at the boy with a quizzical expression. By examining him closely, you could tell that he wasn’t exactly a boy- he was definitely in his early twenties. However, his facial features portrayed something much more youthful. You noticed how skinny he was; except for the compact muscles of his arms, you wondered whether if he was even malnutritioned.

“Uh... “ you pondered how to ask your next question, but just decided to be frank. “Where am I?”

He chuckled, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “You’re at our safe house.”

“...Whose safe house?”

This time he turned his head to you, almost like he was gazing into your eyes. “Our gang’s safe house.”

You freaked out, completely gasping at his words. “Wait, what?! What are you trying to say?”

He shook his head, laughing at you. “You really didn’t know who those guys were that attacked you, do you?”

You shook your head, eyebrows knitting together. “No…”

“Well, you’re going to. Soon.”

“What do you mean?” you demanded, gripping your blanket tighter. “Why is it that whenever I ask a question you leave me with more questions to ask than answers?”

The boy got up from the bed, making his way to the single door in the room.

“They’re another gang. You’re with a gang right now. Make sense?” he says sarcastically. “Oh, and you’re not going anywhere, just to let you know.”

You tried getting out of your bed, furious, before wincing in absolute pain and sitting back down. “What the fuck are you gonna do, keep me hostage here or something?”

His facial expression completely changed, an aura of absolute seriousness that it stilled you. In quick, long strides he made his way over to you, pointing and sinking his finger into your chest.

“I saved you. You, literally, would have been dead if it weren’t for me. So, not only do you have to stay to heal, but you’re staying afterwards. For debt.”

You winced, uncomfortable from his finger digging into your skin. “And what the hell am I supposed to do?”

He smirked, taking his finger away from you. “Well, as you can see from this very room,” he said, gesturing around, “we could use a woman’s touch to clean up the place, I guess you could say.”

“What, so I’m supposed to be like some house-maid? Like some fucking nanny?”

“Call it whatever you want. House care-taker, nanny, fucking call it Snow White and the Seven fucking Dwarves if you want. I don’t care. Now that you know the rules, I’ll be downstairs.”

You gaped at his words. A thousand thoughts hit your head at a thousand miles per hour.

He was already at the door, swinging it open before he turned to you.

“Oh, seriously though. Don’t get up. Or it’s really gonna hurt you,” he said, a victorious smirk filling his face.

And with that, he closed the door and went downstairs.

Copyright 2017 © rhodirachel. All rights reserved.

[initforthelongrun2019]

Back to Bootcamp

This week has been much better than the previous one; the main reason being that I ran every day, compared with the week before when I had three consecutive days off. I have been away for most of the week, travelling with work, and when I did return to Bangkok I had a colleague with me for three busy days of meetings and events, including work on both Saturday AND Sunday. So I’m feeling pretty proud of myself that I actually managed to keep up with my running, and I even squeezed in a class or two as well.

I left my last blog post talking about my romantic night in with an ice bucket. This didn’t quite go to plan; when I asked for an ice bucket I thought that the hotel would bring one big enough for a big bottle of champagne. Clearly I didn’t look classy enough; they gave me one which could just about fit in a bottle of cider. With feet the size of mine, there was no way I was fitting in that, so I stuck the plug into the sink, climbed on to the ledge and sat there with a cup of tea. See? Classy?

It helped though, the next day I had less pain in my feet so I could enjoy my last run along the waterfront in Kota Kinabalu. I love running in the hills but I think running by water tops that slightly as I love the smell of the sea and the cooling breeze it brings with it. 

The next day I was in Kuala Lumpur and I was feeling much less refreshed, due to the fact that my already late flight was delayed which meant that I arrived at my hotel in the early hours of the morning, finally hitting the pillow around 2am. When my alarm went off at 5am I somehow managed to pull myself out of bed; the only thing spurring me on was the fact that I knew I would be able to run around my old stomping ground, KLCC. I ran along Jalan Ampang and, when I finally reached the park, was met by a security guard who shook his head frantically at me and closed his arms across his chest. It was only when he started yelling ‘CLOSED CLOSED’ at a volume far too loud for that time in the morning, did I realise that the park, which doesn’t have any gates to stop you actually entering, was in fact, ‘closed’. Even though I could have just run in there, I didn’t really fancy doing 21km being chased by security, so I ran around the outside of the park until 6am, when I could finally enter. Gotta love Malaysia and its rules. The next day I remembered the law of the park and entered at 6am, running for 45 minutes before joining my old bootcamp for a fantastic session which made me very reminiscent of the old days. I didn’t cover nearly enough distance that day but I didn’t care; it was so good to be back with the group who first got me interested in bootcamps and I had a great time.

Then it was back to Bangkok, where the heat and humidity is killing me once again. Thursday was another late flight so Friday was another struggle and I was, once again, being refrained from entering a park. However, this time the park actually had gates on it, so it made much more sense, but I did seek some sort of reassurance when I saw other runners jogging up and down the pavement outside, waiting for it to open. There aren’t many of us, but it’s nice to know there are other mad people in the world who queue up before 5am for parks to open. When did this become my life?!

Although I’ve kept up to running a good distance every day, I can’t say the same for my stretching and icing routine, as fitting in runs and lots of meetings and flights is a challenge in itself, although it’s a terrible excuse and I know how important it is to stretch, especially when you have a body which is as screwed as mine. I’ve iced once since I’ve been back, and I’ve been trying to stretch more, I even tried out a new pilates class at my gym but I left half way through because it was more yoga based than pilates, which I definitely don’t enjoy. It also hurt far too much; I’m not bendy enough to do some of the stuff the teacher had us doing and I don’t see the point in putting myself through unnecessary pain. So last night, after I finished work, Gareth treated us to an hour session in a floatation tank; basically a big tank full of salt and water where you float for an hour. There are supposedly many benefits to floating; the ones I were interested in were the break it gives your body, as a result of not having to fight gravity, as well as improving both athletic performance and sleep. I was worried that I would feel claustrophobic in the tank but it was actually much bigger than I thought. My main problem was boredom; apparently most people fall asleep but of course my brain doesn’t allow me to switch off. So I splashed around in there for a bit and then started to feel a bit sick; motion sickness perhaps?! I got out about ten minutes before the hour was up, which I think is pretty good considering I usually can’t sit still for more than ten minutes. 

Unfortunately my sleep didn’t improve as I got to bed late and woke early as to run and do my HIIT class, but I do have much less pain in my hips than normal today, which can only be a good thing. I’m having a foot massage right now and I might go home and ice; tomorrow I will run, do pilates and maybe get involved with more ice. Here’s to another good week.

Distance covered so far: 1,875.49km Distance still to run: 5,624.51km