#not the happiest with how these turned out but i drew em anyway so here they are. anyway hi ily

[concord-and-cliches]

been playing some marvel catch-up! [id in alt]

[unclegarou]

In honor of reaching over 100 followers, I present to you.... *drum roll*  

Let Me Make It Up To You | Garou NSFW Scenario (Fem! XReader)

a few lines from my “What Garou Says During Relationship” are used below in bold 

pleaseeeeee send feedback. if there is any grammatical errors or parts you did / did not like, let me know!

These past few days had been uneventful and tiresome, the same thing on your agenda every single day. Work, work, and work. Some times you craved for a thrill, the kind that prevented you from continuing that repetitive schedule, even for just a few hours.

It was nearing midnight when you finally broke away from the hot steam, a rush of cool air hitting your skin as you drew the shower curtains back. You’d been idly standing under the water for at least a hour, simply collecting your thoughts and rinsing away any bad odors. Your feet met with the tiled floor, leaving those annoying, wet puddles in your step. A clean towel was already hanging from the thin railing latched on the wall, which you quickly snatched up to dry the droplets of water rolling down your body.

There was nothing better than that relieved feeling after a long shower. It worked wonders for the pressures you've been enduring lately. Your hand swiped diagonally across the fogged mirror, revealing only half of your reflection. You contently stared at yourself, noticing the usual tiredness in your eyes starting to vanish.  

You departed from the bathroom and into your messy closet, briskly digging around until you settled on an oversize t-shirt and a random pair of panties. You didn't have the energy to hassle with the clips of your bra so you decided to go without one, knowing it could wait till morning.

The night wasn't officially over until you turned off the remaining lights and checked if all doors were locked. You wandered through the house, visiting one room at a time until you were left with the kitchen. A cold breeze whipped past you, prompting a chain of goosebumps along your bare arms. Your head snapped over to the source, eyes landing squarely on the open window. How did that get open?

Just as you began to investigate, a pair of arms slithered around your waist. “Guess who?~”

Now, any sane person would have screamed at the top of their lungs, but this was a common occurrence for you. The presence looming behind you definitely belonged to Garou, his alluring voice sounding all too familiar. You peeled away from his hold and whirled around to face him, but his insanely built chest was the first to appear in your line of sight. You craned your neck just to get a glimpse of his face, which pretty much looked the same, but unlike before, his aura was practically screaming trouble. As much as you hated to admit it, you were in awe, “What are you doing here?”

Luckily, Garou wasn't paying you any mind, his eyes too occupied with traveling around the kitchen. “I'm hungry.”, He stepped past you and headed for the refrigerator, “What’s for dinner?”

After an entire month of no communication or surprise visits, he was back, and without the apology or explanation you deserved. Both of your hands firmly rested upon your hips, doing their best not to wrap around his neck and strangle him, “Garou, its almost 12 o'clock.”

“So?”, Garou answered plainly, closing the fridge and switching to the cabinets, his perfect height keeping him face to face with each built-in space. You watched in disbelief, a part of you wondering how he could be so casual like he didn't go MIA for weeks, but also admiring the muscles that seemed to flex so deliciously under that tight, long-sleeved shirt.

You slowly exhaled from your nose, “Sooo, stop going through my stuff.”

Despite your efforts to hide it, Garou could easily sense the irritation in your tone. He briefly paused his search to glance in your direction, “What's with the attitude? I thought you'd be happy to see me.”

Your hands reluctantly slid down from your hips. Of course you were happy to see him. It was impossible to forget all the times he popped up at your house just to talk, the conversations ranging from trivial matters to current problems with the rise of monsters and heroes. He was the only guy that made you feel the happiest during the lonesome days of your life. Not to mention the suggestive flirting and ‘accidental’ touches.

But he went and disappeared, unannounced and without a trace.

The memory struck a nerve, instantly bringing you back to your hostile behavior. “I already left you and everything we did in the past.”, you declared confidently, even though half of it was lie.

Garou didn't have a response this time, he only stared at you, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. This obviously wasn't how he was excepting you to react, he blinked dumbfoundedly. You shifted uncomfortably, thinking maybe you went too far, until you noticed his eyes weren't on your face anymore, but your chest instead. Thanks to the open window from earlier, your nipples were poking underneath your shirt, in perfect view for Garou to see. Your arms shot up to cover your chest, “Hey! Keep your eyes on my face, pervert.” The fact that you were barely clothed completely flew over your head since you were so irritated with his calm demeanor.

“Pervert?”, He laughed at your flustered face, smugly leaving his spot by the cabinets to stand directly in front of you. He leaned down to your level, an amused smirk playing on his face. “It’s not like I haven’t seen em’ before.”

All sensible thoughts were abandoning your mind, the only thing you could do was conceal your erect nipples embarrassingly. Being so close rendered a good view of the hunger in his eyes. Another laugh filled the room, “Oh right, that was in the past.” Your discomfort didn’t make him back away, instead he inched closer, this time right next to your ear, “Do you need me to remind you?”

It didn't take long for his words to send a wave of excitement between your legs, a sensation you'd long forgotten ever since he left. Just when you thought you had the situation under control for once, he managed to spin it around in his favor. You turned your back to him, “No, I don't want to remember so just leave.”

Garou remained close behind you, the distance separating your bodies was very slim, “You know you don't mean that.”, he teased, unfazed by your threat, “Stop being a damn baby and let me make it up to you.”, his arms encircled your torso for the second time today, and you had a feeling he wouldn't be letting you go.

“What do you mean—”, your words fell short at the pair of lips that connected with the crook of your neck. It was a gentle kiss against your skin, a little alarming at first but delicate enough to make you relax. He lingered there for a moment before trailing kisses up to your jawline. Your eyelids slid shut, a blissful gasp escaping your mouth. Seeing as you didn't try to run off, he took it a step further and nibbled at sensitive areas he memorized from previous interactions.

Garou knew you had no intention of rejecting his advances, but he still decided to test the waters. His warm tongue playfully darted out to lick the shell of your ear. The way your back shivered against his chest was more than enough answer, yet he still preferred to tease you anyway, “If you want me to stop just say it.”, his hands were now underneath your shirt, rubbing at your sides affectionately.

This may be your only chance to finally break free his spell, kick him out of your life forever and move on, but the more you thought of that outcome, the more it seemed to bring you pain. There was no way you could tell him to stop now, especially since he's got you all hot and bothered.

Just as he expected, you didn't put up much of a fight, “Mh, that’s what I thought.” There was no turning back now, he had you right where he wanted. Those large pair of hands roamed straight up to your breast, eagerly groping them however they pleased. The nipples you were desperately trying to hide before were softly pinched between his thumb and finger. You whimpered shyly, gradually submitting to his temptations and giving him all the access he needed.

Garou pulled your shirt off in one quick motion and twirled your body around to face him. He lifted you up by your thighs, effortlessly settling them around his waist. Garou charged at your lips, his tongue forcibly invading your mouth. You matched his enthusiasm, wrapping your arms around his neck, desperately pulling him closer and deeper. He backed you up against a nearby wall, his hips grazing between your legs ever so slightly, allowing you to feel his hard length, but only for a moment. He was starting to tease you again. You impatiently reached down to palm his clothed dick, which was clinging tightly against his pants, begging to be let free.

Garou detached himself from your lips, “Not yet, I want to focus on you first.”, he grabbed both of your arms and pinned them above your head. There was no room for protest as he reclaimed your lips again, kissing you more fiercely than before. It seems he was serious about making up for lost time. No matter how relaxed and unbothered he appeared to be, Garou completely understood that you were hurt by his abrupt absence, and this was his way of saying sorry.

Using his other free hand, he drifted between your thighs and pressed against your damp panties. His fingers caressed the material so close to your throbbing pussy, nearly driving you insane, “Please, Garou.” His ears perked up at your whimpering, instantly falling in love with the sound. He easily tore apart the piece of fabric and discarded them on the floor. Taking his middle and index finger, he plunged into your slick entrance just as you asked. Your back arched, a delighted moan falling from lips. But your satisfaction was short-lived as he pumped in and out of you at a terribly slow pace. Not only were your wrist imprisoned in his grip, but he was mischievously watching each of your needy reactions.

“Do you forgive me now?”, Garou catered to your neglected breast, kissing and biting around the areola while curling his fingers inside your tight walls. You vigorously nodded your head, unable to speak, but it still wasn't enough for him. “I don't think you do.”, his thumb rubbed against your clit, stirring up more pleasure in the pit of your stomach, “How about now?”

The wild combination was enough to make you use your words, “Yes, Yes, Yes, I f-forgive you.” His slender fingers were striking spots you never knew about. It felt so good you found yourself grinding against his fingers, moaning helplessly. The intimate moments you shared before felt nothing like this, it was like you were living deep within ecstasy. Your eyes rolled back, a sudden thirst overpowering you, “Don’t stop, please.”

“Fuck.”, Garou grunted, he thought he could hold himself back earlier but now he was at his limit. Distracting himself by attacking your swollen lips just wasn't working anymore. He released your wrist from his grasp and went to rub his painfully hard dick. “Look at me.”, his fingers picked up their momentum, reviving you from your dazed state and right into his possessive stare. By the way your walls were fastening around fingers, you were near your orgasm. He sinked further inside you, “Cum.”

Just as he commanded, your creamy, white liquids were flowing down his hand, which was hungrily licked up as soon as you finished. The upper half of your body limply fell against his chest, trembling frantically. It was obvious that you were exhausted, but he knew very little about aftercare, only allowing your body to calm down for a second before letting you down from his hold. “Garou.”, you whined, legs still wobbling and breath uneven, but it was too late, he had already dropped the pants that were irritatingly restricting his dick. A little precum was dripping from the tip, “Turn around, I'm not done yet.” Garou was fully engulfed with lust, it was evident in the way he looked at you.

With the little energy you had left, you did as you were told, hands flat on wall and body bent over. He didn't waste another second, firmly gripping your hips and thrusting right into your pussy. You sucked in a deep breath, his length stretched you out way more than his fingers, and you wondered why he just didn't start with it from the beginning. Your knees began to buckle at his harsh pounding. He continuously pulled you down his length, keeping his eyes trained on your back, loving it’s perfect arch. Your cries of pleasure was like music to his ears. “Whats my name?”, he growled.

You moaned hoarsely, “Garou.”

Of course he pretended like he didn't hear, “Say it. Louder.”, his pace never faltered as his dick rammed deeper inside you with each thrust. Your hands were sliding down the wall now, unable to keep up with his stamina. You were quivering all over, a sign that another orgasm was threatening to release, the feeling was overwhelmingly good. “Garou!”, you violently came again, adding onto the liquids that were already trickling down your legs. Garou pulled out of you soon after, his hot seed splattering all over your back.

If you had been in the right state of mind, you would've scolded him, but right now you just needed to rest. Garou wasn't panting as harshly as you were, only a few droplets of sweat ran down his forehead. You were the only one who could barely stand, the wall being your only support.

This was the time where Garou was supposed to say something meaningful and go run you a bath, but he just stood and admired his work, a sense of pride rushing through him, “You look so pretty like that—”

“Wait, Garou.”, your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, instantly recognizing the erotic tone in his voice, “Let me take a break first!”

He grinned cheekily, already reaching for you with greedy hands,  “Come on, one more round won't hurt.”

[myownsuperintendent]

New Fic: “Our Friends” (Part of the “A Different Place” Series)

When Diana returns, it throws a wrench into Samantha's life, as she tries to make sense of what is going on with Mulder and Scully and of Diana's interest in her own capabilities. This fic is part of my “A Different Place” AU, in which Mulder brings home one of the Samantha clones in “Herrenvolk,” and is set during the Season 6 era. It’s rated G and is also here on Ao3. The full series is here. Tagging @o6666666 because she’s been really supportive of this series <3

.....

Fox picks her up from school today. “There’s someone I want you to meet, Sam,” he tells her as they drive. “Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Samantha says. She likes meeting people, if they’re nice. And Fox mostly knows nice people.

They go to a restaurant near where he works, a little diner; she’s been there before with him, a couple of times. There’s a woman sitting at a table in the back when they go in, who waves at Fox. He waves back, and they go over. When she looks at Samantha, the woman’s eyes get wide, and she looks for a long, long time. Samantha has to look away. She doesn’t like people looking at her like there’s something strange about her, even though it happens sometimes, when she acts different from other people. She didn’t think she was acting different now, though. She’s just standing there.

“You told me,” the woman says, softly. “Fox, you told me. But I didn’t realize…”

“I know,” he says. “It’s…it’s something.” He pulls out a chair for Samantha and ruffles her hair as she sits down; maybe that’s to make her feel better, because he knows she doesn’t like that kind of looking. “Let me introduce the two of you, though,” he says, and that’s better too, because maybe once they know each other the woman won’t look at her that way. “Diana, this is Samantha. Samantha, this is Diana. She’s…she’s an old friend of mine, and we used to work together.”

“Like you work with Dana?” Samantha asks.

“Yeah,” he says after a minute. “Like that.” That’s interesting, because she didn’t know he ever worked with anybody besides Dana. Maybe if she had come here at a different time she would never have met Dana. That would be sad, though, so she’s glad it didn’t happen.

“Hi, Diana,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Samantha,” Diana says. “It’s…wow. It’s wonderful to meet you too. Finally. In the flesh.” She doesn’t know what Diana means, finally. If Diana wanted to meet her she’s been right here for two years. “When Fox and I worked together, he used to tell me about you all the time.”

That explains it—Diana doesn’t understand who she is. “I’m not that Samantha,” she says. “I’m a different one.” She doesn’t really like talking about the other Samantha, but she doesn’t want Diana to be confused.

“Of course. I know that,” Diana says. “But still—he was always looking for you then.”

“Not me,” Samantha says. She would know if Fox had been looking for her, because he’s told her about what he was doing. He was looking for the other Samantha and he didn’t know about her. But he’s happy he found her, even if he wasn’t looking. Happier than anything in the world. Sometimes you find just what will make you happiest even if it’s not what you’re looking for. She knows that from Fox, and from books.

Diana still looks confused, but she says, “Well, anyway, you must both be so happy to be together now,” and she’s right about that, anyway.

“Yes,” Samantha says. Because Fox is her brother, so of course he makes her happy.

“We are,” Fox says, and he puts a hand on Samantha’s shoulder.

He lets her get a milkshake, and she drinks it while Fox and Diana keep talking. Sometimes Diana asks her questions too. She asks her about the place where she lived, before she came to live with Fox and Mom, and Samantha tells her. About all the other girls who were like her, and all the boys who were like each other, and doing all the work around the farm together. Diana looks at her more and says, “Wow,” again. She sort of likes talking about it, because she doesn’t get to do that with a lot of people, but she still doesn’t like the staring.

Maybe she should ask Diana a question, she thinks. She read that it’s polite for a conversation to be like a tennis match. “Where do you work?” she asks. “Now that you don’t work with Fox.”

“Well, actually,” Diana says, “I’m back working here now. At the FBI. So I hope we can see more of each other, Samantha. I’d love to hear more about you.”

Maybe she is nice, even if she stares a lot. “Well,” Samantha says, “I really like reading and cooking. Those are probably my favorite things. Do you like reading?”

“I do,” Diana says. “Did you used to do those things on the farm?”

“I did cooking there,” Samantha says. “But I couldn’t read at all. Fox read to me at first, until I learned how. And he still reads to me now, even though I can do it. And sometimes I read to him.”

Diana smiles. “That’s sweet.”

“My favorite book is A Wrinkle in Time,” Samantha says. “Do you like that one?”

“I haven’t read it,” Diana says. “Was it hard for you? Learning to read?”

“No,” Samantha says. “It wasn’t too hard. It was easier than learning to talk.”

“You learned to talk here too?” Diana asks. “How did you do that?”

“With my speech therapist,” Samantha says. “And by practicing.” She wishes they could talk about A Wrinkle in Time. She looks up at the clock; it’s almost four, now. “Are we going to go home soon?” she asks Fox.

“Soon, Samantha,” he says. “I have to go by the office to finish some things up first. Can you work on your homework for a little bit while I do that? Or sit and read?”

“Sure,” she says. She’s done that at his office before, a couple of times.

“I’ll head back with you,” Diana says, getting up when they do, and they all walk over to the building together. She thinks that maybe Diana is going to go somewhere else, but she comes over to Fox’s desk with them too.

There isn’t anybody at Dana’s desk. “Where’s Dana?” Samantha asks.

“I’m not sure, Sam,” Fox says. “She might have stepped out for a minute.”

Samantha sees a piece of paper on the desk, propped against the computer. “She left a note, I think,” she says, going over to look at it. Mulder, it says, I’m not sure where you went, and you’re not answering your phone, but I have to go pick up Emily. I’ll be back soon—Scully. “She’s picking up Emily.”

“Emily?” Diana asks.

“She’s Dana’s daughter,” Samantha says. “She’s three. But we’re friends.”

Diana nods; she looks like she’s thinking about something. Since Dana’s not here right now, Samantha sits in her chair to work on her math homework. Every time she looks up, it feels like Diana is looking at her again.

“Could Dana and Emily come over for dinner tonight?” she asks Fox. “I promised Emily we’d play hopscotch down the whole driveway together. And today’s the first day it hasn’t been raining.”

Fox smiles at her. “Sure, that sounds good. We’ll ask Dana when she gets back.”

“Okay,” Samantha says. She goes back to her homework.

She can hear footsteps before she sees Dana and Emily. “Hi!” she says, as they come over.

“Hi, Samantha!” Dana says. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today. What’re you working on?”

“Multiplication tables,” Samantha says. “And I have to do a book report. I’m going to do it about The Secret of Platform Thirteen.”

“Oh, right, you were telling me about that one,” Dana says. “How did it turn out?”

“Really good,” Samantha says. “They found out Ben was the prince, and he went back to the Island with them. And he and Odge were friends.”

Dana smiles. “That’s great.” She looks up then, to where Fox is sitting at the desk, to where Diana is standing against one of the file cabinets. Now she’s not smiling so much. “Hi, Mulder,” she says. “Agent Fowley.”

“Hi, Scully,” Fox says. “Hi, Em.” Diana nods.

“Hi, Emily,” Samantha says, bending down. Emily’s a little quiet sometimes, especially if there are people there she doesn’t know. And Samantha guesses she doesn’t know Diana, since Diana asked who she was.

“Hi,” Emily says softly. “I drew flowers.” She shows Samantha a picture she’s holding.

“It’s nice,” Samantha says, even though it doesn’t really look much like flowers. But Emily is only three. “Maybe we could draw more later. After we play hopscotch. Dana, can you and Emily come over for dinner?”

“Tonight?” Dana says. “I don’t think we can tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Samantha asks. “Fox says it’s a good idea too. And we could make something nice. Like spaghetti.”

Dana shakes her head. “We can’t tonight,” she says. “I’m sorry, Samantha. But soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Samantha says. She’s a little disappointed, but she knows that’s how it is sometimes. “Someday when it’s nice out. So Emily and I can play hopscotch.”

“Do you want to play for a little now?” Dana asks. “If there’s nothing I need to finish up here, I could take you both outside. I think we’ve got chalk in the car.”

“Can we?” Emily asks. “Can we? Can we?”

Fox laughs. “Go ahead. That’s really nice of you, Scully.”

Samantha isn’t sure if Dana laughs too, but she makes some kind of sound. “Yeah, that’s me,” she says, which Samantha doesn’t really understand. But she puts her math homework back into her backpack, and they go up in the elevator together.

There’s a little park area, near the building, and Samantha and Emily play hopscotch there, while Dana watches them. They can’t make as big a hopscotch court as they could on the driveway, but it’s still fun. When Samantha is waiting for her turn to hop, she looks over at Dana, and Dana looks like she’s thinking really hard about something, or maybe like she’s sad. Samantha’s not sure, so she just tries smiling at Dana, and after a minute Dana smiles back at her. “Do you want to hop too?” Samantha asks. “You can go before me.”

“Sure,” Dana says. “Thank you, sweetheart.” And they all hop, and Samantha decides that Dana probably isn’t sad, because she’s smiling now and looks like she’s having a good time.

Fox comes out and finds them, after a little while. He’s still with Diana. “You ready to go, Sam?” he asks.

“Okay,” Samantha says. She finishing hopping back to one and goes over to him. “Bye, Emily. Bye, Dana. You’ll come for dinner soon?”

“Sure,” Dana says. “Soon, Samantha.” She turns to Fox. “I’ll see you at work on Monday, Mulder,” she says, and then she and Emily go back to their car. They carry the chalk away.

When Samantha and Fox go to their own car, Diana comes with them. “We thought Diana could come for dinner,” Fox says. “How does that sound, Sam?”

“Fine,” Samantha says. She doesn’t think it’s as nice as having Emily and Dana come, since Diana probably won’t want to play hopscotch. Although she guesses she doesn’t know that. “Do you like to play hopscotch, Diana?”

Diana laughs. “I haven’t done that in years,” she says. Which isn’t really an answer to the question, but if Samantha had to guess, she would guess that it means no. She would never stop doing anything she liked to do for years.

When they get back to the house, Mom’s reading in the living room. She looks surprised when they come in. “Diana,” she says. “I had no idea you were…”

“It’s been a long time,” Diana says. “But it’s lovely to see you again, Teena.” Mom must know Diana too, but that makes sense, if she used to work with Fox. They’re all friends with Dana, after all.

Diana and Fox seem to have a lot to say to each other; they talk in the living room while Samantha and Mom are making dinner. During dinner, Diana compliments Samantha on her cooking, and she stares at her more, in between bites.

She leaves after they’re done eating, and the three of them clean up together. “You didn’t tell me Diana was back in town,” Mom says.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t,” Fox says. He finishes washing a dish and hands it to Samantha to dry.

“Are the two of you working together again?” Mom asks.

“Not exactly together,” Fox says. “She’s back at the Bureau, but we’re not on the same cases, for the most part.”

“Hmm,” Mom says. She puts the glasses back in the cabinet. “Are you glad?”

“Glad about what? Seeing her again?” Fox asks. “Yeah, it’s…I think it’s a good thing. And I’m glad I got to introduce her to Sam. After all those years of hearing me talk about looking for her.”

“Not me,” Samantha says. He’s talking like Diana was earlier, like she and the other Samantha are the same person. Which he almost never does, not since the first days.

He looks down at her. “I’m sorry, Samantha,” he says. “Of course I don’t mean that. I just meant…it’s nice for her to put a face to the name.” Samantha doesn’t understand that either. She has the same face as the other Samantha, and she knows that because she’s seen pictures. So if Diana wanted to know what their face looked like Fox could have just shown her a picture ages ago.

She decides to change the subject. “I saw Dana and Emily today,” she tells Mom. “And Dana said they’d come for dinner soon. She couldn’t tonight, though.”

“That sounds good,” Mom says. “Have Dana and Diana met?” she asks Fox.

“Of course they’ve met,” Fox says. “We all worked a case together.” Mom looks like she’s going to say something else, but Fox turns to Samantha. “Do you want to play checkers?” he asks. He was teaching her at first, but now she’s much, much better than him.  

“Sure,” she says, because even though it’s easy to beat him now she still likes to play together. And they go off into the other room.

.....

“Will you remind Dana?” she asks Fox, one morning later that week. “That she said she and Emily would come for dinner?” Usually they don’t even have to ask, because they have dinner together so often. But maybe Dana’s busy right now.

“Sure,” Fox says. “I’ll talk to her.”

She asks him again, when he gets home that night, and he says he talked to Dana, that she and Emily have a lot going on this week but she’ll try to make time. But they still don’t come. Samantha misses having them there at the table. She would even cook plain buttered noodles, which are Emily’s favorite, if they would come.

Diana comes again, one time the next week, but it’s not the same at all. She’s all right, but she’s not Samantha’s friend like Dana and Emily are. Samantha tries to be friends, and she tells Diana all about her book report on The Secret of Platform Thirteen, which she read for the class this week. They had to dress up as a character, and Samantha dressed up as Odge, the hag. She has a blue tooth, and even though it’s in the back where no one can see, Samantha put a blue piece of paper on one of her teeth anyway, because it’s an important part of the character. But she doesn’t think Diana really understood about that. She only wants to hear about when Samantha was at the farm or when she first came here. She doesn’t like to hear about books or even to talk about them; Samantha asked her what her favorite was, and she said she didn’t really know.

“When are Dana and Emily coming?” she asks Fox, after Diana goes home.

“I don’t know, Sam,” Fox says. “I promise I’ll let you know as soon as Scully tells me anything.”

“I wish they would come,” Samantha says, and he looks at her for a long time, but in a nice way, and then he hugs her close.

That night when she wakes up, she goes down to the living room, because she thinks she left her colored pencils down there. When she gets to the bottom of the stairs she can hear Fox talking. She doesn’t hear anyone else, so he must be on the phone.

“Look,” he’s saying. “I don’t want to…Samantha misses you guys.” She can see him on the couch from where she’s standing. “Well, what are you so busy with? We work together…I never said that. But you have to admit it’s been a change…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice is a little louder now. “Look, Sam’s gone through a lot of change already. She’d just like to see the two of you…Did I ever say that?” She knows he must be talking to Dana, but he sounds mad. She doesn’t like to think about that, him being mad at Dana. “Maybe you could just say what you’re thinking. Instead of beating around the bush…See, this is what I mean…All right. All right. I’ll see you at work tomorrow. But…but can you think about what I said?” He doesn’t sound so mad now, more sad. “I’m not asking for myself. It’s for Sam…Yeah. Good night, Scully.” He stays sitting on the couch, after he’s stopped talking.

She doesn’t go to look for her colored pencils. She walks up the steps softly, in her socks, so he can’t hear.

.....

Samantha thinks about what she heard, most of the next day. She’s worried, because she doesn’t want the two of them to be mad at each other. But then, late that afternoon, she sees Dana’s car coming up the driveway.

She jumps up from her seat. “Where are you going, Samantha?” Mom asks.

“To open the door,” she says. “It’s Dana and Emily.” She can see them both now, walking towards the steps. She can’t stop smiling, and Mom smiles too, back at her. She goes to the door and throws it open. “You came for dinner!” she says.

“We did,” Dana says.

“I missed you,” Samantha says. “I didn’t see you for two weeks.”

“I know,” Dana says, and she stoops down to give Samantha a hug. “I missed you too. I’m sorry we didn’t come.”

“That’s okay,” Samantha says. “You were busy, right?” Dana doesn’t say anything, but she has a funny look on her face, and Samantha remembers what she heard last night. Maybe they really are mad at each other. Maybe that’s why Dana and Emily didn’t come for dinner. She looks around; Emily is telling Mom and Fox about what she did in school today, and they aren’t paying attention to what Samantha’s saying. “Are you and Fox mad at each other?” she asks.

“What makes you ask that, Samantha?” Dana asks.

“I heard him talking to you on the phone,” Samantha says. “Are you?”

Dana looks sad now, and she stoops down again and smoothes Samantha’s hair. “I wouldn’t say we’re mad at each other,” she says. “There are just some changes at work…and we’re having a little bit of a hard time. And that might make us…get more stressed out about things than we would otherwise. But we’re still good friends. And you don’t have to worry about any of that.”

“Yes, I do,” Samantha says. “Because I don’t want you to be mad at each other. And I want you and Emily to come to dinner like you always do.”

“And we will,” Dana says. “I am sorry, Samantha. I shouldn’t have stayed away.” She hugs Samantha again. “I’ve known Mulder for a long time now, you know. And sometimes we don’t get along perfectly, but we always make up. And I’ll always love you and spending time with you, even if things are tough at work. Okay?”

“Okay,” Samantha says. But she’s still a little worried.

She doesn’t have time to ask anything more, though, because Emily comes up to her then. “Let’s play hopscotch,” she says.

“All right,” Samantha says. “I’ll get my chalk.” It’s good that they came now, she thinks, because it’s starting to get cold out. They probably won’t be able to play hopscotch a lot longer this year.

While they’re eating, later, Samantha watches Fox and Dana. Maybe they’re not really mad at each other, like Dana said. They don’t do any really mad things, like yell or give each other the silent treatment. But they don’t do any really friendly things either. Usually Fox will say silly things, and Dana will act like she’s not going to laugh but then she will. Usually they talk to each other a lot, and they smile a lot, like they don’t even have to think about it. But tonight they don’t do all that.

She wants to ask Fox about it, after dinner, once Dana and Emily go home. She already asked Dana, but she still doesn’t really understand; maybe Fox will be able to help. “Fox?” she says, while they’re putting away the dishes.

“Yeah, Sam?”

She wants to ask him, really, but when she opens her mouth nothing comes out. And it’s not because she’s having trouble talking, which sometimes happens still, if she’s upset. It’s because she doesn’t know what question to ask.

“Never mind,” she says. “I’m going to go read.”

.....

Diana comes by the house again, later that week. Samantha’s reading when she gets there, but she puts the book down, to be polite. “Oh, you don’t have to stop,” Diana says. “You could read me some of it.”

Samantha’s a little bit surprised by that. Sometimes she reads to Fox, but that seems different, somehow, since he reads to her too. And sometimes she reads to Emily, but that’s because Emily can’t read herself. “Are you sure?” she asks. “You won’t know what happened at the beginning.”

“That’s all right,” Diana says. “You can just start where you are.”

“But it’s a mystery,” Samantha says. “I’ll explain the beginning to you, so you know about the clues.” And she explains the beginning to Diana—it’s a Nancy Drew book, The Phantom of Pine Hill. “But I don’t think it’s going to be a real phantom,” she says. “The ghosts are never real, in Nancy Drew books. I think that’s a little silly.”

Diana laughs. “You sound like Fox,” she says.

“Well, maybe,” Samantha says. “He’s my brother.” And Diana laughs again, even though she doesn’t think she said anything very funny. “Should I read?”

“Yes,” Diana says, “go ahead.” So she does. Diana stares at her more, the whole time. She doesn’t know why she thinks it, but she doesn’t think Diana is that interested in the story. She thinks she’s interested in something else, but she doesn’t know what.

She stops reading when it’s time to make dinner. “You read very well,” Diana says. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Samantha says. “It’s my favorite thing, like I said.” And Diana nods.

Diana watches Samantha while she’s cooking dinner too, the same way. She has the same look on her face as she had when Samantha was reading. So whatever she’s interested in, it’s something about Samantha, not something about Nancy Drew. But Samantha can’t figure out why.

.....

Dana and Emily come to their house for dinner a lot, but sometimes they go to Dana’s apartment instead. They do that tonight; she and Mom drive into the city together and meet Fox, Dana, and Emily there.

“Will you read to me?” Emily asks Samantha. “Please,” she adds quickly, when Dana looks at her, and Dana smiles.

“Sure,” Samantha says. “What do you want me to read?” Emily brings over The Little Fur Family. It’s one of her favorites, which makes Samantha happy, since she and Fox picked it out for her, when she first came here to live with Dana.

They sit on the couch together, and Samantha reads. Dana’s listening too, while she’s putting dishes on the table, and when Samantha finishes reading she smiles at her too. Samantha smiles back and goes over to help her with the table. “Thank you for reading to Emily,” Dana says to her. “It’s very nice of you.”

“Oh, I like it,” Samantha says. “I like reading to people.”

“Who else do you read to?” Dana asks.

“Sometimes I read to Fox,” Samantha says. “Especially when I was learning, so I could practice. And on Monday I read to Diana.”

Dana looks surprised. “You did?”

Samantha nods. “I was reading when she came over for dinner, and she asked me to. Except I don’t think she really cared about the story.”

“What do you mean?” Dana asks.

“I’m not sure,” Samantha says. “But she said she didn’t need to know what happened at the beginning. And she kept staring at me when I was reading, but then she was staring at me the same way when I was cooking. So I don’t think it was about the story.”

She can tell that Dana is thinking about something and that it’s not something that makes her happy, but she can’t tell what. “Does she come to your house for dinner a lot?” she asks.

“A few times now,” Samantha says.

“And does she always…stare at you?”

“Yes,” Samantha says. “I don’t really like that. And she asks me questions a lot, about when I first came here. And how I learned to do different things.” Maybe she shouldn’t be saying that; she doesn’t understand why Diana acts like that, but then there are still a lot of things she doesn’t really understand about what it’s like here, even after two years. And usually there is a good reason for them. “But she is Fox’s friend,” she says, because maybe that makes it okay.

“Yeah,” Dana says. “Yeah, she is.” She’s quiet for a minute. “Does she…” She breaks off, shaking her head. “Never mind, Samantha. It’s none of my business.”

Samantha puts the forks and spoons on the table, neat and straight. She wonders what Dana was going to ask.

.....

She’s over at Fox’s office again today, because he had to grab some files before he takes her home. She’s standing by his desk, waiting for him, when Diana comes over. “Hi, Fox,” she says. “Hi, Samantha.”

“Hi,” Samantha says.

“What have you been doing today?” Diana asks.

“I had school,” Samantha says. “We had the half-mile run. I was the fastest.” She hopes she doesn’t sound like she’s bragging. Ms. Green told them it’s not a race, but she was the fastest.

“Wow,” Diana says. “Are you a really fast runner, Samantha?”

“I guess so,” Samantha says. “I don’t really get tired.”

“Don’t you ever get tired?” Diana asks, and she’s staring again.

Samantha fidgets. “I don’t know. I might get tired sometimes. But not running the half mile.” She tries to make it sound like it’s not interesting so that Diana will leave her alone. She always feels like she’s different when Diana talks to her. Like she’s something strange they would study in science class.

“How far do you think you can run without getting tired?” Diana asks.

“I don’t know,” Samantha says, and she doesn’t, she really doesn’t.

“Well, could you just—”

“Samantha!” It’s Dana, and she’s standing behind them; Samantha isn’t sure when she came in. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today. This is so nice. Here, come over to my desk. I have something you might like.” She doesn’t say sorry for interrupting, or hello or goodbye to Diana, or anything like that. So Samantha doesn’t either, even though she thinks maybe she should. They just go over to Dana’s desk together.

Dana opens a drawer. She’s got a lot of paper clips in it, all in different colors. “I saw these at the store the other day,” Dana says, “and I thought you might like some. I was thinking about your binder. How neat it is.” Samantha does always keep her homework very neat in her binder, and she has a different colored tab for every subject. And the paper clips are nice, for paper clips, although they’re not really that exciting. But she’s still glad Dana brought her over to see them. She’d rather look at paper clips all day, for a full twenty-four hours, than have Diana ask her more questions about how far she can run.

“Thank you,” she says. “They’re pretty.” And Dana gives her a handful, all the colors mixed together, and she puts them into the pocket of her backpack, carefully. And Dana asks her about school too, and she tells her about the new unit they’re doing in social studies, about explorers and how they sailed around the world. And Dana tells her about her dad, how he sailed around the world too. Samantha’s never known anyone who actually sailed around the world. Of course, she doesn’t know Dana’s dad herself, but she feels like she could sort of know him, since Dana did. At least more than she could know Christopher Columbus or Marco Polo.

“Well, I guess I should be going,” Diana says, her voice a little bit loud.

“Probably,” Dana says. “I’m sure we’re all busy.” Samantha wouldn’t say Dana’s voice is mean, exactly, but it’s the kind of voice people use when they don’t really care about something.

“I’m sure we are,” Diana says. “Goodbye, Fox.”

“Bye,” Fox says. “Talk to you soon.”

“That would be good,” Diana says, and then she walks away. Samantha’s glad.

But when she’s gone, Fox turns to Dana. “What’s going on with you?” he asks.

“Nothing’s going on with me,” she says. “I’m just talking with Samantha.”

“Exactly,” he says. “She was talking to Diana, and you just pulled her away. What’s going on with that?”

Dana sighs. “Well,” she says, “it didn’t look like Samantha was having a very good time talking to her.”

Samantha nods. “I wasn’t.” But they don’t seem to listen to her.

“That’s not your call,” Fox says. “I think you’re letting your personal feelings—”

“My personal feelings?” Dana says, and her voice is loud now, definitely. She looks around the room, lowers it. “I don’t think I’m the one who’s doing that, Mulder. Maybe you should try paying a little more attention. Because I wouldn’t say that was an innocent conversation.” Samantha doesn’t know what that means.

Apparently Fox doesn’t either. “Aren’t you blowing this a little out of proportion?” he asks. “Samantha, if you weren’t enjoying the conversation, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Samantha says, because it’s not his fault. But she still doesn’t think they’re really listening.

“But to say that it’s not innocent…I don’t even know what you mean, Scully.”

“I just think…from what I’ve heard…and what Samantha’s told me…” Dana breaks off again and looks at Samantha. “Maybe we shouldn’t get into it.”

“No, let’s get into it,” Fox says. “Because if you’re trying to say that you understand what Samantha needs more than I do…she’s my sister, Scully.”

“I know. And that’s not what I’m saying,” Dana says. “You may not believe it, but I’d love to be wrong here.” Samantha wonders what she means. Mostly people hate being wrong. “But if I’m not…I’d rather not talk about it in front of Samantha, right now.”

They both look at her then, for what feels like the first time in the whole conversation. “Maybe you’re…” Fox says. He breaks off and reaches into his pocket, coming up with a couple of dollar bills, which he hands to Samantha. “Do you want to get a snack, Sam?” he asks.

“No,” she says. She doesn’t really know what they’re talking about, but she knows this is a trick. He’s going to send her to get a snack so that they can talk about something without her being there, and that’s not fair, because whatever it is has something to do with her. She can tell that much.

“Samantha, Scully and I need to talk,” he says. “Can you go get a snack for a few minutes? Please?”

She doesn’t want to, but she doesn’t think, from the way he’s looking at her, that she really has a choice. “Okay,” she says.

“Thanks, Sam,” he says, softly, and he looks sorry about it, but that doesn’t make her feel better. There’s something wrong, and it has something to do with her, and it’s making Fox and Dana fight, and she doesn’t know which part is scarier. She doesn’t know what to say to him. She takes the money and goes.

There’s a vending machine at the end of the hall, and she gets a bag of pretzels; then she comes back, as quickly and as quietly as she can. She wishes Fox and Dana were still in their old office, in the basement, because then she could listen at the keyhole. It’s not something she’s ever done, because she’s never needed to before and she’s knows it’s not something you’re supposed to do, but she can tell from books that it’s the best way to find out things. But where they’re working now, it’s just a bunch of cubicles, with no keyholes. She tries standing behind one, not so close to their desks that they’ll see her, but not too far away either. She only hears a few things, though—“like she’s a lab rat,” Dana says, and Fox says, “She’d never do that”—when two men come up and see her.

“Are you a child agent?” one of them asks her.

“No,” she says. She didn’t even know there were any child agents. But then they both start laughing, so she guesses it was a joke. She doesn’t think it was that funny.

“Well, what are you doing here, anyway?” the other man asks. “I don’t think you should be wandering around here, do you?”

“I guess I shouldn’t,” Samantha says. “But I’m not really wandering. I’m just waiting for my brother.”

“Your brother?” the man asks. “Does he work here?”

“Yes,” Samantha says. “Over there.” She goes back to Fox’s desk. He and Dana are still talking, but they stop as soon as they see her. They’re mad, though, she can tell that. When Dana came to dinner she said they weren’t mad at each other, but that was then. They’re mad now.

“Well, I think we should go, Sam,” Fox says. “I don’t think we need to stay here any longer today.”

“Goodbye, Samantha,” Dana says. “I just…well, I hope I’ll get to see you soon.”

“I hope so too,” Samantha says, but she can’t help wondering if they will. When she sees Dana, Fox is almost always there, except for a couple of times when she’s gone to spend the afternoon with Dana and Emily when Mom and Fox are both busy. But that doesn’t happen very often, and it might not happen anymore, either, if Fox and Dana are mad at each other.

“Come on, Sam,” Fox says, and they go to the elevator, and they go away.

He talks to her in the car while they’re driving home. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Sam,” he says. “Scully was just…well, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Are you lying to me?” Samantha asks quietly. She doesn’t think Fox would lie to her, because he knows she hates it, but she just can’t believe that she doesn’t have anything to worry about.

“No,” Fox says. “No, of course not, Samantha. I wouldn’t do that.”

So he’s not lying, but maybe he’s wrong. She is worried, even if Fox doesn’t think she should be. Maybe she won’t get to see Dana, and that’s not fair, because Dana is her friend. But she’s Fox’s friend, even more than she’s Samantha’s, and if they’re not friends anymore maybe she can’t be Samantha’s friend either. She doesn’t know how she’d get to see Dana. She can’t drive over to Dana’s apartment by herself. And what makes it even worse is that she still doesn’t understand why they’re mad or how long they’re going to be mad for.

“Are you and Dana still friends?” she asks. She almost doesn’t want to ask, though, because the answer might be no.

He’s quiet for a minute, and then he says, “We are, Samantha.” And she reminds herself that he said he wasn’t lying, but she doesn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Why are you fighting, then?” she asks.

He’s quiet again. “Friends do fight sometimes,” he finally says, but that’s not really an answer. She still doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, right now, with the two of them.

But she doesn’t think Fox will tell her anything more. When they get home, she just goes up to her room and closes the door. She wants to try to understand it, at least, but she just sits there, staring at the wall.

Eventually someone knocks at the door. “Come in,” she says.

The door opens; it’s Mom. “There you are, honey,” she says. “Do you want to come downstairs and make dinner together?”

“Okay,” Samantha says, even though she doesn’t really feel like doing anything. When she’s getting up from her seat on the bed, Mom looks at her face.

“Is there something wrong, Samantha?” she asks. “You look upset.”

“I am upset,” Samantha says. She sits back down, and Mom comes and sits next to her. “It’s Fox and Dana,” she says. “They’re fighting and I don’t really know why. And what if they’re not friends anymore? Will we still see Dana?”

“I don’t think they’re going to stop being friends, Samantha,” Mom says. “They…they care about each other too much for that.”

“I know they care about each other,” Samantha says. “But today at Fox’s office, they were really fighting. If you heard them…”

“What happened?” Mom asks. She puts a hand on Samantha’s shoulder, gently.

“I went there with Fox because he had to pick up some papers,” Samantha says, “and Diana came over and she was talking to me, and then Dana came over and started talking to me instead. And then when Diana left, they started fighting. And I didn’t really understand, but I think it was about me. And about Diana.”

“Oh,” Mom says. “Well, if it was about Diana…” She stops talking for a minute; she looks like she’s thinking.

“What?” Samantha asks. “Please tell me.”

Mom sighs. “Honey, what do you know about Diana?”

“She used to work with Fox,” Samantha says, “so they’re old friends.”

“They weren’t exactly friends,” Mom says. “They used to be…she was his girlfriend. Pretty seriously.”

Samantha tries to imagine that. Somehow she can’t. “Why didn’t he tell me?” she asks.

“Probably because you’re a little young,” Mom says.

“I’m not,” Samantha says, because she’d rather know all about everything, no matter how old she is. It makes things so much easier to understand. “And anyway, if I’m too young, why are you telling me?”

“Because it’ll help me explain to you,” Mom says. “I think…Fox and Dana are used to working really closely together. But he had a different kind of relationship with Diana, and that means—”

“Fox and Dana don’t just work together, though,” Samantha says. “They’re really good friends. When Dana and Emily come here for dinner, they’re not working.”

“That’s what I mean,” Mom says. “I think they’re trying to figure out where they stand now. Which can be hard when there’s someone else in the picture.”

“Why would Diana being Fox’s girlfriend mean that he can’t be friends with Dana?” Samantha asks. “She’s not even his girlfriend anymore. Is she?”

“No,” Mom says. “Not now. But…well, Fox and Dana probably have different feelings about her. Right? Is that what they were arguing about?”

“Yes,” Samantha says. “Fox got mad about what Dana said about Diana. And he said she was using her personal feelings too much, or something.”

Mom nods. “It’s hard sometimes,” she says, “when you’re used to things being one way and then another person comes in. But I really do think they’ll still be friends.”

“Do you promise?” Samantha asks.

“I can’t promise,” Mom says, and Samantha guesses she knew that; she just wishes Mom could. “But I think so.” She squeezes Samantha’s shoulders.

“Will everything…will it be okay?” Samantha asks. There’s so much going on, but that’s what she really wants to know.

“I think it will, Samantha,” Mom says. “Soon.”

She goes downstairs with Mom, then, to make dinner, but she keeps thinking about everything, even while she’s chopping the vegetables and getting everything ready. She thinks about the farm. She’s glad she’s here now, where there are stories and people she loves. But on the farm it was never complicated like this.

Dana and Emily don’t come to their house for dinner, that week, but neither does Diana. Once she hears Fox talking on the phone and tries to figure out who it’s with, if he’s talking to one of them. But when he sees her there, he goes into another room.

She worries about it. She knows that Mom told her that things would probably be okay, but she has to anyway. She just misses Dana and Emily, and she thinks Fox must miss having them come over too. They usually come over all the time. Even if he and Dana are arguing, she doesn’t think they could just stop liking each other, just like that.

They still work together, at least, but that’s no help to Samantha. At least until one day when Fox brings her by his office when he picks her up from school. He never used to do that so much either, but now that he works in a different part of the FBI, he doesn’t have the same kind of cases he used to. She thinks that makes him sad too, from the way he talks about it. But she hopes she’ll get to see Dana, if they’re going to be in the office.

She doesn’t, though. Dana’s not there when they get in. “Can I sit in Dana’s chair?” Samantha asks Fox. That won’t be anything like seeing her, but it’ll be spending time in the same place as her.

“Sure, Sam,” he says. His voice sounds a little sad. She wonders if she should ask him why he can’t just be friends with Dana again and have everything be like it used to be. She would like that so, so much. But every time she tries to ask anyone, they just tell her not to worry about it.

So she sits in Dana’s chair and works on her homework, and Fox sits across from her and works on some papers. They’re there for about ten minutes when his phone rings. He picks it up. “Mulder,” he says. “No, I’m not busy…They found what?...Agent Scully’s there now?” He’s quiet for a minute, listening to something on the other end of the line. “No, I’ll come over there too…Sit tight…Yeah, I’ll be there soon. As quick as I can. See you.” He hangs up the phone and looks at Samantha.

“Do you have to go work on a case?” she asks him.

“Yeah,” he says. “I should drop you off at home first, though.”

But he said he had to be there quick, and she knows that’s really important when you’re solving cases. Nancy Drew is always running somewhere. “I could wait here,” she says.

“No, Sam,” he says. “I can’t leave you alone here.”

“I don’t mind,” she says. “I can do my homework.”

He looks unsure for a minute, and then he says, “How about you wait outside? It’s nice weather. And then Mom can come and pick you up. I’ll call her now.”

“Okay,” she says.

They walk downstairs together, and she gets settled at one of the benches outside the building. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here?” he asks her. “I don’t feel right leaving you.”

“It’s fine,” Samantha says. “I wait for you at the library by myself all the time. And now I’m right outside the FBI, so if there’s a crime, I’ll just go and find someone.”

He laughs at that. “Good thinking,” he says. “I’ll leave you money for a payphone, just in case. And Mom’ll be here soon.”

“I’ll be fine,” she says again, and he kisses her cheek and walks away.

She’s started on her homework again when she hears a voice. “Samantha?”

She looks up: it’s Diana. She hasn’t seen Diana since Mom told her that she used to be Fox’s girlfriend. She already felt kind of funny about Diana, and that makes her feel more funny, even though she can’t exactly say why. “Hi, Diana,” she says.

“What are you doing here?” Diana asks, sitting down next to her on the bench.

“I was with Fox,” Samantha says, “but he had to go on a case. So now I’m waiting for Mom to pick me up.”

“What are you working on?” Diana asks her.

“Math homework,” Samantha says. “I have to make a chart—”

And then Diana interrupts her, again. “That doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. Would you like to do some puzzles, Samantha?”

“Puzzles?” she asks. She’s not sure what Diana means.

“Like brainteasers,” Diana says. “Puzzles that you have to think about. I have some here.” She’s carrying a briefcase.

Sometimes Samantha’s still not sure if something’s strange just to her or if it’s actually very strange. She’s not sure right now. But she thinks this is strange. “I should probably work on my homework,” she says. “It’s for tomorrow.”

“Just try one,” Diana says, and she puts a sheet of paper on top of Samantha’s homework, before Samantha can say anything else.

She’s done brainteasers before, in school. These ones are different. There are shapes on the page and what looks like writing. But it’s not writing like Samantha’s ever seen before, like she learned to read here. It’s in some kind of symbols she doesn’t know.

But that’s not quite right, to say she doesn’t know them. She doesn’t understand what the writing means, but it feels like she could. Like she’s learned one kind of way of reading and writing and talking and listening—the kind they do here, that everyone else does—but that maybe she could have learned the kind on the paper, if things had turned out differently. Or that she could even learn it now, all in one moment, if she concentrated enough and let it pull at her brain.

And that scares her. The way it could take her over. She usually loves learning things, but she doesn’t want to learn this. “I don’t want to,” she says. “No. No, thank you.”

“Just give it a try,” Diana says. “Try to concentrate.”

“No,” Samantha says. She tries to push the paper away, but Diana’s holding it.

“Do you mean you don’t understand it?” she asks. She sounds like she needs to know.

“I just mean that I don’t want to,” Samantha says. “Here. Take it back.” She shoves at the paper again, and this time Diana takes it away, but she’s taken Samantha’s math homework with it, the chart she was making. She’s looking at that now. “I need my homework back,” Samantha says, but Diana’s staring at the paper. Samantha doesn’t know what to do, what to say. She wishes Mom would get here and she could go home.

Then she hears another voice. “Samantha? Are you okay, sweetheart?”

It’s Dana. She looks like she’s just coming back to the building; she’s wearing a coat and carrying her bag. Samantha’s never been so glad to see anybody in her life. “Is Fox with you?” she asks.

“No,” Dana says. “I don’t know where he is. Are you supposed to meet him here?”

“No,” Samantha says. “Someone called him and he said he was going to go meet you. To work on a case.”

Dana looks confused. “We haven’t been out working on a case, Samantha. I’ve been over at the labs. Are you here all by yourself?” She doesn’t say anything to Diana, but she’s looking at her, out of the corner of her eye.

“Mom’s going to pick me up,” Samantha says. “I was just doing my homework. But…” She doesn’t know how to explain to Dana why that paper scared her. She’s worried it’ll make her sound strange.

Dana’s voice is kind like it always is, though, when she says, “What is it? What’s the matter?” Diana’s trying to pull the papers away now, put them back in her briefcase. She still has Samantha’s math homework.

“She has my math homework,” Samantha says. It sounds silly, but she does her best to explain. “And she gave me a puzzle to do…it had writing but I didn’t understand it…but I thought maybe I could have…it made me afraid.” She says the last part very quietly, because she doesn’t want Diana to hear, only Dana.

Dana turns to Diana. “What are you trying to do to her?” she asks. Samantha thought she sounded mad the other day, when she was talking to Fox, but she sounds much, much madder now. “If you’re thinking about doing anything that could hurt this little girl—”

“It wouldn’t hurt her,” Diana says. She’s still trying to put the papers away.

“—or upset her, or exploit her,” Dana says. “She’s a child. She’s not a pawn in whatever game you’re playing.” She grabs for the papers then, and Diana tries to pull them back, and some of them go flying. Samantha tries to find her math homework, but she doesn’t see it. Dana and Diana are still trying to grab the papers when Mom pulls up in her car. From the look on her face, Samantha can tell they all look pretty strange.

Mom stops the car and gets out. “What’s going on?” she asks. “Samantha, are you all right?”

“I don’t know,” Samantha says. She’s not so scared anymore, because Mom and Dana are here, but she doesn’t understand what’s happening, and she wants to know where Fox is, if he wasn’t going to meet Dana after all.

Dana turns to look at Mom; her face is red. “Teena,” she says, “I think we should get out of here. I don’t want to scare you, or Samantha, but I think we need to get out of here. I don’t think the company we’re in is doing Samantha any good.”

Mom looks at Dana for a minute, and then she nods. “All right,” she says, and the three of them get in the car.

“Something with Diana?” Mom asks when they’re in the car.

“She was trying to find out something about Samantha, I think,” Dana says. “Some kind of test. I took this from her.” She must have gotten the puzzle, then.

“Did you get my math homework?” Samantha asks.

Dana shuffles through the papers on her lap. “Is this it?” she asks. “M & M Colors?”

“Yes,” Samantha says. “We were doing percentages.”

Dana hands her the paper. “I don’t understand what this means,” she says, looking back at the paper she still has. “Some kind of symbols. Did you say you could, Samantha?”

“No,” Samantha says. “Just that…I thought maybe I could. Or I could have. If I concentrated. Or if someone taught me. But I don’t want them to,” she adds, quickly. “It made me scared.”

“You don’t have anything to be scared of, honey,” Mom says. “We’ll make sure you’re safe. Don’t give it another thought.”

But she can’t do that. “What was it?” Samantha asks. “That paper. Do you know?”

“I’m not sure,” Dana says. “Can you tell us exactly what happened, Samantha? What were you saying about Mulder?”

So she starts with that, with Fox getting the phone call and leaving, and then she tells about what happened with Diana, while they’re driving back to the house. They listen, and then Mom says she thinks they should call Fox, so she does. Samantha wonders if this means he and Dana will stop fighting.

He gets back to the house really quickly, almost as soon as they do; maybe he was nearby, or maybe he drove too fast. “What happened?” he asks. “Samantha, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’m okay.” And she tells the whole story again. She feels like she keeps telling it and telling it. Fox looks at the paper Dana took. His face is very white.

When she’s done, Fox gives her a hug. “I’m so sorry, Samantha,” he says. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I was an idiot to fall for that. I shouldn’t have—I never meant to put you at any kind of risk.”

“It’s okay,” Samantha says. “I’m not upset.”

“It’s all right if you are,” Fox says.

“I’m not,” she says. Not with him. She still doesn’t understand what happened, but she trusts Fox, and she knows it’s not his fault. That he’d rather anything than have something bad happen to her. “What do you think she was trying to do?” she asks, quietly.

Fox looks at Dana. “I think it was some kind of test,” he says. “To see if you could read it. Just…to see what you were able to do.”

“Why?” she asks, but she thinks she knows.

“Because of where you came from,” he says. His voice is very gentle when he says it, because he knows she doesn’t like it when people talk about her like she’s different. Mom’s sitting next to her on the couch; she puts her arms around her shoulders and squeezes tight.

“Is that why she kept asking me all those questions?” Samantha asks. “Just to find out?”

“I think so,” he says.

“What was on the paper?” Samantha asks.

“I’m not sure, exactly,” he tells her. “But Scully and I have seen some things like that before. In work we’ve done. Symbols we can’t read.”

“I didn’t want to read them,” Samantha says. “Was that right?”

“If you didn’t want to,” he says, “then it was.” Samantha thinks about what he means.

Dana’s standing a little back from the three of him, her and Fox and Mom; she clears her throat. “I should go,” she says. “I’m glad you’re okay, Samantha.”

“Thank you for helping me,” Samantha says.

“Of course,” Dana says. “Any time you need me.” Samantha wants to ask if she and Emily will come for dinner again soon, like they always used to, but she’s not sure quite how to, right now.

“I’ll walk you out,” Fox says, getting up from the couch.

“You don’t have to—” Then she stops. “Oh. Teena, I came in your car.”

“I can give you a ride, then,” Fox says. “Really, I can. I owe it to you.”

She looks at him for a minute. “All right,” she says. “I really do need to leave now, or I’ll be late picking up Emily. But don’t talk about it like that.”

They leave then. Samantha still doesn’t think they’re very happy with each other.

“Will they be friends again?” she asks Mom. “In a little bit, maybe?”

“I’m sure they will,” Mom says. “Remember what I told you? They care about each other a lot.” She squeezes Samantha’s shoulders again. “And we all care about you, too. I’m so glad you’re all right. I couldn’t live with myself if…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, but Samantha knows she’s thinking about the other Samantha. And from the way they’re all talking, she thinks what happened today might be something bigger than she understands. Usually she wants to understand everything, but right now she doesn’t ask any more questions. She remembers how that paper scared her, and she decides there are some things that she doesn’t want to know.

Mom keeps watching her, all through the evening, and Fox too, when he gets home. There are some things she does want to ask him. “Are you and Diana still—” Then she stops, because she was going to say still friends, but she remembers what Mom told her. “Do you still like her?” she asks instead.

He sighs. “I’m very upset now,” he tells her, “because I don’t like what she did to you.”

He didn’t exactly answer her. Maybe he doesn’t know. “Are we going to see her again?” she asks.

“No,” he says. “You won’t have to see her again, Sam.” She’s glad about that, but she doesn’t say it in words, because she knows that he did like Diana, before at least, even if he’s not sure now. He stoops and hugs her. “You’re what’s most important to me,” he says. “Don’t you forget that.”

She hugs him too. “And Dana,” she says. “Will she come here again soon?”

“I hope so, Sam,” he says. “I think we’re still a little…there are some things we have to talk through.”

“But you want her to come here,” Samantha says. “Don’t you?”

“I do, Sam,” he says, and she knows he really means it.

But Dana doesn’t come that week, and Samantha misses her. She knows Fox does too, but after a little bit she decides that maybe it’s not up to just him. Dana’s her friend too, and she said that she would help Samantha, any time you need me. So maybe she needs to talk to Dana herself.

She has Dana’s phone number in her address book, and she calls her up one Saturday. “Hello?” Dana says.

“Hi,” Samantha says. “It’s me. Samantha.”

“Hi, Samantha,” Dana says. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Samantha says. “I just miss you and Emily. So I wanted to invite you to come over to dinner.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dana says. “Do your mom and Mulder know you’re calling?”

“I don’t think so,” Samantha says. “But you’re my friends and I want to see you.”

“We’d like to see you too,” Dana says. Her voice is soft.

“Are you still mad at Fox?” Samantha asks. “Can’t we still see each other even if you are?”

“I’m not mad at him, Samantha,” Dana says. “That’s not exactly…It’s hard to explain. And it wouldn’t be right for us to put you in the middle of things, anyway.”

Samantha guesses that makes sense. “Does that mean you can come over?” she asks.

“I’ll tell you what, Samantha,” Dana says. “Let me talk to your mom or Mulder, okay? Whoever’s there. I don’t want to barge into the house without talking to one of them. But if they say it’s okay, Emily and I will come to dinner.”

“Okay,” Samantha says. “I’ll find someone.” She looks up; Fox is walking past the kitchen. “Dana wants to talk to you,” she says.

He comes in quickly and takes the phone. “Scully?” he says. “Yeah, hi. It’s good to hear from you…Oh, she did, did she?” He looks down at Samantha and raises his eyebrows. “Well, it sounds like a great idea to me. How does six sound?...Great.”

“Ask her what I should cook,” Samantha says.

“Samantha wants to know what to cook,” he says into the phone. “Oh, she’ll like that…Well, see you tonight, Scully. Bye.” He hangs up the phone and looks at Samantha. “You’re very interfering, you know that?” he says.

“I’m not,” Samantha says. “I wasn’t trying to make you be friends again, if you didn’t want to be.” Anyway, that’s silly, because she can tell he does. “I just wanted to invite them because they’re my friends.”

“I didn’t mean it like a bad thing,” he says. He’s smiling, and he hugs her. “I’m glad they’re coming too. Scully said to surprise her with dinner.”

So Samantha makes roast chicken with herbs, because it’s simple enough for Emily but tastes good for everyone. When Dana and Emily get there, she runs to hug them, and then she and Emily draw together while the dinner is finishing cooking. She looks over at Fox and Dana a lot; they’re sitting on the couch, talking. It’s not quite like it usually is, when they talk a lot and laugh together and it seems like they’ll never stop. But she can tell Fox is trying really hard to be nice, to say things that will make Dana smile, and she can tell Dana’s trying to be friendly too. That’s better than these last weeks. And after dinner, Dana says she’ll help clean up, and she and Fox start laughing together when they’re putting the dishes away. That’s much, much better.

And after that they start coming over again, Dana and Emily, at least once a week, like they used to. They work on dinner together, and she draws pictures or reads or plays with Emily. She doesn’t hear anything more about Diana. She doesn’t ask. She doesn’t want to.

Dana and Emily are there for dinner one Friday night; it starts snowing soon after they get there, and by the time they’re supposed to leave it’s a real storm. “Are you sure you’re all right to drive home in that, Dana?” Mom asks her. “The roads might be bad out here. You and Emily are welcome to stay.”

“It does look bad,” Dana says, looking out the window. “But I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing,” Fox says. “We can put you up, no problem.”

“Emily can stay in my room,” Samantha says. “Like a slumber party.”

Emily’s eyes light up. “Oh, can I?” she asks. “Please, Mommy.”

Dana smiles and ruffles Emily’s hair. “Well, if you’re sure it’s not a problem,” she says, “that would be really nice. Thank you.”

They don’t have any pajamas or anything, but Samantha gives Emily one of her t-shirts; it’s big even on her, so Emily can wear it like a nightgown. Mom and Fox and Dana say goodnight to them, and then they settle into her bed together. Emily’s feet are cold.

“We can tell secrets,” Samantha whispers. “Do you know any?”

There’s a little bit of light from the window; she can see Emily screwing up her face. “At school the other day,” she says, “Ben hid playdough behind the books.”

“That’s a good one,” Samantha says. She tries to think of a secret she can tell, but when she looks at Emily again, she’s already asleep.

Samantha falls asleep too, pretty quickly, but she wakes up again after a while; the clock says it’s almost midnight. She gets up carefully, so she doesn’t wake Emily, and goes over to the window. It’s still snowing hard.

She’ll go downstairs, she thinks, and read in the living room. That way she won’t have to turn the light on when Emily’s asleep. She takes her book—it’s called The Egypt Game, and it’s a really good one—and starts down the stairs.

When she’s at the corner of the stairs, she sees a light: the lamp’s on in the living room. She can hear them talking.

“…glad to have you back,” Fox is saying.

“I didn’t think I went anywhere,” Dana says.

“You know what I mean,” Fox says. Both of their voices are soft, gentle. Samantha knows it’s bad to eavesdrop, but she doesn’t want to interrupt them either. “I missed the way things were with us.”

“Me too,” Dana says. They’re quiet for a minute, and Samantha starts to go down the steps again, but then they start talking about her. “Samantha’s doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Fox says. “I think so. She sometimes…she’s got a way of turning things over in her mind. But I think she’s all right. Probably enjoying her slumber party with Emily.”

Dana laughs. “I hope Emily’s actually sleeping.”

“Aw, it’s not a school night,” Fox says. “Anyway, it’s nice having the two of you here. Any time. That’s what I meant.”

“It’s nice being here,” Dana says. “I didn’t…it wasn’t that I wanted to not be here, you know. I just wasn’t sure…I didn’t know what you wanted. And maybe I got a little…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. “Well, I shouldn’t have stayed away.”

“I did want you here,” Fox says. “Believe that, Scully. You deserve…you deserve more from me than what I was giving you.” Samantha thinks Dana says something, but it’s too soft for her to hear. “I’ll always want you here,” Fox says, and then they’re quiet again.

Samantha decides she’ll go downstairs, finally. She guesses they didn’t hear her coming, because when she gets to the bottom of the stairs she sees them kissing. She remembers how strange she felt when Mom told her about Fox and Diana. She’s surprised now, but she doesn’t feel strange.

They stop, and they smile at each other, and then they see her. “Hey, Sam,” Fox says. “You awake?”

She nods. “I didn’t mean to bother you,” she says. “I just came down to read, because Emily’s asleep.”

“You’re not bothering us,” Dana says. “I might look in on Emily, before I go to sleep too.” She holds out her hand to Fox. “Come up with me?”

“Sure,” he says, and he takes her hand. “Good night, Sam.”

“Good night,” she says. “Good night, Dana.”

“Good night,” Dana says, and the two of them start up the stairs together. Samantha watches them go, before she opens her book.

[diddlesanddoodles]

DEAD WALLS RISE - SAWYER

Ever since she was little, she had a knack for fixing things. It started small. Her mother’s favorite stirring spoon. One day it snapped in two while her mother cooked and she had looked so sad over the loss. So she melted some beeswax and used striped of jute cloth to try and bind it all back together.

It didn’t work.

But her mother had been so touched by her attempt that it had made Sawyer feel…amazing. Through her adolescence she chased that feeling. That look. Eyes of such pure gratefulness. It filled every space in her soul. From broken kitchen spoons, she graduated to mending clothing. And then there was her father’s accident.

He’d tripped on a branch and fell with a hatchet in his hand and it sliced open his arm. There had been so much blood and Sawyer was all alone at home. So she did the only thing she could think to do. She cleaned him up and used her sewing needle to stitch back the folds of skin. And though the local healer had to undo her work and administer his own, he had been so impressed with her foresight and fortitude that he offered her an apprenticeship.

She would help heal the sick and injured. She would fix people.

She was only nineteen when the war broke out. And suddenly there were so many people needing to be fixed. And so many that were beyond her touch or talents. It slowly ate away at her. Every person she lost or could not help. After the capitol city fell and their entire civilization was scattered to the winds,

she helped where she could. Treating those she came upon, but not staying with any group. They attracted attention. Hunter who picked them off bit by bit. Setting traps and snares or ambushes. For every person she helped, the pervasive thought remained.

What good am I if they’re going to die anyway?

For years, she kept to her one rule. Once her work was done, she would leave. No connections. No friends. No goodbyes. She was so dreadfully tired of goodbyes.

But then she broke her one rule.

There was a group of refugees trying to make it to the pass and through to the northern plate. One of then was a young woman who had gone into labor. The child was healthy and fat and wonderful, but the mother was weak and ill and could not keep any food down. She spent a week with the group, helping to nurse the mother back to health. Her fever slowly ebbed and color returned to her cheeks. Sawyer could have left. But…she stayed.

  And that time had been the happiest that Sawyer had known since before the war. Because of Diane. The young mother’s sister. A vibrant ray of light with a laugh that made Sawyer’s heart race whenever she heard it. Diane was beautiful and feminine and everything Sawyer was not. Her trade and life had turned her harder and rougher than any woman she’d known. She wore trousers instead of skirts and chopped her hair short. More out of convenience than anything, but once she had done it, it felt weird for her to have her hair long or to slip into a skirt again. Trousers felt right and she loved the feeling of the wind on her neck.  

And Diane did not make her feel as though she should be ashamed for how she dressed or looked. Rather, she expressed that she wished she could be daring enough to cut her long hair as Sawyer did.

“That would be a travesty,” she had told Diane.

“Why?”

“Because you’re so beautiful just as you are.”

She did not remember much between then and the moment Diane’s lips met hers…but she remembered feeling it again. That joy she constantly chased as she healed and helped people. She never expected to find it anywhere else.

And it both thrilled and terrified her.

………………………………………………..

The mistake had been such a simple one. They wanted to avoid the flooded gully so they changed their path to the smoother one through the copse of tree. They had thought they were far enough from the road that they would not be seen.

But the hunters hand keen eyes.

Diane and two others were taken. Sawyer and the rest of the group had managed to escape, but…Sawyer could not leave them behind. She could not leave Diane to face such a cruel death. Not alone.

The others begged her to stay.

“You’re a healer.”

“You’re too valuable!”

“You can’t go. You can’t save them.”

And yet she did leave. She was going to save them. She had to. The giants’ tracks were easy enough to follow. There had been no attempt as disguising or hiding their path. Why would they? There was no monster waiting in the shadows to catch and devour them. The trail led her to the outskirts of a Vhasshalan village. The inner square was bursting with activity. Stalls of goods and wares and all types of foods and produce. Giants yelled and bartered and laughed. The sight angered her so much. Women and children huddled in mud out in the wilds while their hunters celebrated the fruits and frivolities of life and love. Basking in the warmth of both heart and home.

How she wished she had the powers of a mage and could burn the whole sodding mess to the ground.

The tracks ended near the manky old shed outside the town proper and as she spent a little time observing it from afar, the hunters emerged from within. They were laughing and pushing at one another jovially. In high spirits.

“Should fetch a decent price,” one of the remarked. “Spring must’ve treated ‘em good out there. Lot fatter than the last few we’ve caught.”

“That pretty one’s gotta be worth a full silver. At least.”

“I say we double the price and sell her as a pet to some Lord. Be a shame to see such a pretty thing go into a soup pot.”

“I hear Lady Tafford’s been known to keep a few of ‘em.”  

Sawyer felt her face flush with ire and the urge to stab their eyes out was very present in her mind. She waited until they were well off and away from the shed before she approached. It was a raggedy thing with the wooden plank siding having been eaten away by time and termites. All she had to do was find a weak spot and push her way through. The room was mostly barren save for a table at the center and the only light coming in were from the holes and cracks in the ceiling and walls. Sitting on the floor off to the side was a wooden cage. And inside…

“Diane!”

Wet blue eyes met hers from behind wooden bars and her heart ached.  

“S-sawyer? What? Why are you here? Go! Before the come back!”

She went to the cage and reached in to grab Diane’s hands. “They’re gone. Probably to go get pissed. Come on, let’s get you all out of here.”

It took all four of them pulling on the wood to splinter them enough so they bowed, leaving just enough space for them to wiggle out. Sawyer led them through the hole she had made in the wall and together they all ran from the shed. They were only a few yards from the tree cover when a furious shout drew their eyes back. Their hunters had spotted their escaped quarries and all three of the giants were rushing towards them. Faces red and lips curled back into sputtering snarls.

“Go! Run!” Sawyer yelled, pushing hard between their shoulders to usher them forward. They pushed into the trees and ran. “Turn left down that hill and hide. I’m going to draw them away from you all.”

Diane’s frightened eyes met her own. “No! They’ll catch you! They’ll kill you!”

“They won’t catch me,” she assured her. “The trees are far too close together for them to run full on. We have the advantage. Now go!”

“I can’t!” Diane said, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t just go and you not come with me!”

“You have to,” she said. And in a moment that would stay with her for the rest of her life, Sawyer pulled Diane to her and pressed her mouth onto hers. Hard. Quick. And far too brief. She pulled away and pushed her on. As the others dragged Diane with them, the blued eyed girl stared.

“Sawyer!” She said. “I love you!”

Her breath wavered in her chest and as Diane disappeared behind the foliage, she said back, “I love you, Diane.”

She had only a second or two for the words to hang in the air before she heard the giants crash through the trees. She ran, making sure they spotted her before drawing them away from where Diane and the others had run.

Diane’s last words to her gave her the drive to run as fast as she ever had in her life. Trees and roots and bushed passed her at alarming speeds, but even as fast as she ran, the giants were still behind her. And the gap was closing. But then all at once, her foot snagged and the world rose up to smack her in the face. Her head hit something hard and everything went dark.

………………………………….

She awoke slowly and in great pain. The entire left side of her face pulsed and she felt nauseous.

“...can’t believe they escaped!”

“And that one’s practically worthless! With a head wound like that, he’ll be dead in a few hours!”

There was a furious growl and the cage rattled as it was struck. “Fuckin’ human trash! I should skin you for this!”

She was in a cage on her back, one eye swollen shut. Despite it all, however, Sawyer smiled. She did it. They got away. She got away. Diane was safe.

...and that was enough for her.

Drifting between awake and unconsciousness, Sawyer was only dimly aware of the passage of time. But she knew she had been in the cage for at least a day as she had awoken and saw starlight through a gap in the she roof. When she woke again and saw sunlight above her, she began to wonder if the giants were content to just wait for her to die. If she’d hit her head hard enough, she could and probably was concussed and the swelling in her eye had not gotten any better. She felt feverish, which she suspected would be the thing to do her in. An uncleaned open wound and a fever?

She was going to die. And the only question left to answer was whether the fever or the giants would be the one to snuff her out.

………………………………….

“It took a while to get them and my supplier doubled his fee,” said one of the giants. “So if you’re still wanting it, it’ll be five silver.”

“That’s an outrageous sum!” said another voice. One Sawyer did not recognize. “The agreement was two silver.”

“And had my supplier not doubled his price, I wouldn’t have had to double mine. Five silver. That’s my price. You want the powder? It’s five silver.”

“I wonder at your arithmetic. I wonder greatly.” There was the sound of unhappy muttering as the new giant considered. “Hm... throw in that pitiful creature there and I’ll give you five silver.”

“For five silver you get the powder. For six, you get the powder and the human.”

“What? Why you slippery thief, that human’s practically dead. They’re not worth anywhere near a whole silver piece!”

“Six silver. That is my price.”

There was silence for nearly a minute. “...The powder and the human for five silver and a bottle of Wormwood extract.”

“Wormwood?” asked her captor. “...red or blue root?”

“Red, of course.”

“Deal.”

She could hear the sound of coins being spilled into an open palm and her captor gave a satisfied grunt. “Pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

There was a divisive snort from the one who had just purchased her. “Terribly sorry that I cannot return the sentiment.”

There did not seem to be any point in moving or trying to get a look at the new giant. She would see him well enough in time, she supposed. The sound of the cage being opened caught her attention, though and she was expecting a large meaty hand to reach in and grip her roughly. But instead she was carefully lifted from the cage floor by two large but thin fingered hands and with a surprising deftness. One slipping under her shoulders and the other beneath her knees. Then just before she could look at the giant with her one good eye, she was bundled into a swathe of coarse homespun fabric that smelled vaguely like cloves. He’d swaddled her like an infant and she only felt the most vague sense of chagrin.

  He carried her bodily from the shed and only few paces passed before setting her down again onto smooth worn wood. The fabric fell away from her face and she could see the wooden bed of a cart seat and beyond that, a rump of a frighteningly giant horse. Or rather a Svadilfari. It would have taken a team of twenty horses to pull a giant’s cart. For a moment she stared in fascination. She had heard of Svladilfari, but she had never seen one in person. A giant equine that could reach 40 feet high from hoof to ears and supposedly eat an entire field of barley in a day. And perhaps it was simply her head injury, but her immediate thought after seeing the enormous creature was…

…that beast must produce a hellish amount of manure.    

The cart tilted as the giant took his seat just to the side of her. She could hear him grunting as he climbed the steps and then thud of him sitting down, the gentle whooshing as the leather harnesses passed through his hands and then the clack and snap as he ushered his beast forward. The wooden wheels of his cart crunched through the dirt and grass before finding the road and everything smoothed out. It was several minutes into the journey before the giant spoke again.

“Now, let’s see to you, little fellow,” said the giant in a low voice. The fabric was pulled away and the sun hit her in the eye, causing her to wince and turn away from the offending light. The action seemed to give the giant a better view of her swollen eye and her head wound. Something touched her shoulder.  

“Not as bad as I had feared,” he murmured. “But it looks painful enough.”

“…funny,” she groaned. “It feels painful enough too.”

“Oh…Oh!” He exclaimed. “Oh, I am sorry, Madame. By your clothes and hair, I mistook you for a man. My apologies.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Sawyer replied and coughed. Her throat was so dry. “But you’ve got me curious. You gave him…Wormwood extract?”

“Yes. I did.”

“That’s…that’s a treatment for piles.”

Through the glare of the sun she caught the flash of his grin. “I am aware.”

She started to laugh, but stopped as a wave of nausea hit her and she rolled over onto her belly. “Augh. So...is it too much to hope this is a rescue? Or am I to be your supper?”

He made an odd strangled sort of scoffing sound and then the giant patted her reassuringly on the back. “Rescue. Definitely a rescue, my dear.”

“Oh, good,” she replied lightly as a surge of adrenaline struck her and the tips of her fingers tingled. So she wasn’t going to die? Well, that just messed up her schedule completely then. Her good eye prickled with sudden tears and she laughed humorlessly around the growing lump in her throat. “I always thought getting eaten would be such a stupid way to die...”

“Hm,” the giant hummed, nesting the crook of a finger against her neck and the side of her face. “And I suppose succumbing to a blistering fever and infection is preferable, hm?”

“At least there’s still a little bit of dignity persevered with a fever.”

“How does it matter how you die if you die regardless?”

She pushed herself up onto her elbows just long enough to glare up at him. “...are you really trying to make the argument that being eaten isn’t all that bad? Or are you just being obtuse?”

“Madame, you bruise me.”

“Sorry...I get mouthy when I’m scared,” she said as she flopped back down onto wooden seat and winced. “And in pain.”

“I understand,” he said gently and she felt his fingers lightly touch her back again. “And though it may be obtuse to say so, you have nothing to fear. It is against my creed to do harm. To any intelligent creature.”  

“...thank you,” she said and after a few moments of silence added, “In hind sight, five silver is an awful lot to spend on dinner. You’d have to like...use a really good wine and a gallon of butter to make me worth the price.”  

“Please, let us not continue with this vein of conversation. It’s too gruesome.”

“Okay. So then how about telling me the name of my valiant savior?”

“My name is Yaesha.”

“Nice to meet you Yaesha. I’m Sawyer.”

…………………………………

“Y’know…you could have mentioned you were the King’s physician,” she said with a mild accusatory tone. She’d been placed on a bed, a giant bed, in the infirmary. Yaesha had placed a decorative screen around the bed to give them a little more privacy, but she did not see the point. They were the only ones in the room. He’d given her some tonic that did wonders to rid her of the headache that has been ever present and she felt leagues better than she had in days. But it had also left her a little loopy. But as it had been years since she had partaken in any good spirits, it was not an unwelcomed sensation.    

Yaesha knelt down beside the bed, dipping a cloth into warm water. “I rarely go to the market myself and I would prefer that my identity not get around. Especially there. That place is…unsavory. And the King would hardly approve.”

“…alright. Your secret’s safe with me. But if you find it to so distasteful, why go there?”

“If a person was seeking an ingredient that was difficult to acquire, Dornby market it the place to find it. Or at the very least, where you could pay someone to find it for you. And I certainly could not have asked Farris to get some for me. Gods above what he would have thought…”

“So what was it you were there to acquire? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Rheem seed powder.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It goes by man names. But it’s very hard to get a hold of in Vhasshal and is outright banned in Ibronia where it grows. But it makes for a glorious antiseptic.”

“So…why is it banned in Ibronia?”

“It is also an incredibly strong and addictive inebriant. Hence the secrecy.”

“Oh. Well, that explains a lot.”      

He tried to clean away the blood and get a better look at her wound, but she pushed back when he applied the faintest amount of pressure. She hissed in pain and jerked away from his ministrations. “Mother of—!”

“I know it stings, but it needs to be sterilized. You may even need stiches.”

“Just let me do it. I can do it myself. I know how.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but are you a trained healer?” he asked in a decidedly haughty tone. “No. Now sit still and let me work.”

She pulled away from him again. “I am, though.”

He paused and looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “...pardon?”

“A trainer healer,” she replied, returning his look, though the effect was ruined by only having one usable eyebrow. “Me. I am. That is...yeah.”

He pulled his head back as though seeing her for the first time. “Truly?”

“Yep... I finished my apprenticeship two months before the war started.”

He stared at her, seeming to reassess her for several moments before giving her a small smile and placing the bowl beside her. He handed her the corner of the fabric and stood up. “Very well then, Madame healer. I shall leave it to you.”

She leaned over the bowl and used its surface as a mirror to work around the worst areas of dried blood and saved the most tender and painful areas for last. It took her almost half an hour, but she was eventually able to see the wound proper and she cursed.

“Problem?” Yaesha asked from somewhere to her left.

“You’re right,” she said. “I need stitches.”

“Can you manage or will you need assistance?”

“…I’ll need your help, please.”

Yaesha had to all but take over stitching her up. Her fever had gone down, but left her shaky and weak. He surprised her with the amount of dexterity he possessed despite the tiny stitches he was having to make with thread that, in his hands, would snap or break with only the most minimal amount of force.

Sawyer was fairly very impressed.

“So tell me, Sawyer,” he said as he worked. “How did you manage to get yourself all banged up and on the black market?”

She thought for a moment, Diane’s face flashing in her mind and bringing with it a sharp longing that she pushed back below the surface with a violent thrust.

“I was trying to rescue someone.”

He hummed noncommittally. “And did you succeed?”

“Yeah. They got away. I led the hunters away from them, but tripped and a rock gave me a nice kiss on the way down.”

He hummed again. “And what is his name?”

“What?”

“The one you went to rescue. What is his name?” He paused to give her a meaningful look and she felt her cheeks warm.

“…her name is Diane.”

Yaesha blinked at her. “Oh,” he said, but there was a ghost of a smile there. “And will you go find her once you’re all sewn back up and healed?”

For a moment she did not say anything. And then finally, she said in a small voice, “…no.”

“No?”

“With any luck she and the others are that much closer to the pass. Trying to run after them…it’s foolish. And I think I’m done with being foolish for a good while. Love makes you do stupid things. And I don’t want my stupidity to put her in danger. Besides…I’m not what she needs.”

“And what does she need?”

“…someone who isn’t me.”

……………………………………………………

In the months that had followed Yaesha’s rescue of her, Sawyer had taken the liberty of his medical library to brush up on a few topics in addition to learning whole new swathes of knowledge. Yaesha possessed an extensive collection of medical and anatomical tomes that he had been gracious enough to allow her to peruse. Her wounds had long since healed and only the day before, he had proposed to her that she could stay in Vhasshal. As his assistant.

“Your assistant?” she said, taken aback.

“Yes,” Yaesha replied, his face beaming with excitement. “You yourself have said multiple times you had no real plans once you were sufficiently healed and it just so happens I’ve been pursuing possible candidates for an assistant. We have three other humans in the castle and I can’t help but think it a boon in our favor to have a human healer. And your extensive knowledge of herbal balms would be a great asset to us.”    

Her first inclination was immense gratitude, but then she paused to reign in the feeling. “…would this be a work for room and board arrangement or would I actually be paid a wage?”

“Of course you’d be paid a wage!” Yaesha replied. His tone seeming to imply it was never a question whether she would receive a wage. “Thirty pence a month in addition to room and board.”

Her eyes grew wide. Thirty pence a month was very handsome. Swallowing the abrupt welling of emotion, she nodded. “I would be very happy to accept the position.”

“Wonderful!” Yaesha replied, looking pleased as punch.

“Thank you,” she added. “Really...thank you.”

He placed his hand against her back and peered at her over the tops of his spectacles. “It’s my pleasure.”

……………………………………….

“I…I like your hair.” Sawyer looked up from the absurdly large book she had been trying to read to the maid standing just at the end of the table, a respectable distance away. Master Donal, the Steward, had assigned her to the infirmary and she had only been working there a week and hadn’t spoken a word to Sawyer. She had simply assumed that perhaps the maid took offense to a human taking up the position and had not bothered to give the matter any more thought. So long as the maid did her work and did not cause any problems, Sawyer was content with that.

So the abrupt comment regarding her hair was mildly shocking.

“Sorry?” she asked the maid, not entirely sure if she’d heard correctly.

“I just wanted to tell you…I like your hair,” she said, her words seeming to stumble oddly and her cheeks were flushed as though with embarrassment or fever. “I think it suits you.”

“…suits me?” Sawyer asked, genuinely confused and she looked down at herself.

“Oh! Not to say that your manly or anything. Even with you wearing trousers and tunics,” she corrected hurriedly, her red face becoming redder. “You’re very pretty and I’m sure you’d look just as beautiful in a skirt, I only mean...that is...oh, bother. I’m making a proper muddle of this...”

Looking at the maid, Sawyer was struck with a sudden sense of familiarity about the way she fumbled her words and blushed peculiarly. And a knowing smile spread across her face.  

“What’s your name?” Sawyer asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh!” said the maid with a smile. “Not at all! I’m Clara.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Clara, but tell me. Why did you never say hello before?”

“Well...I’m not use to talking to humans. In fact, your the first human I’ve ever spoke to!”

Sawyer laughed. “Really?”

“Oh yes!”

“Oh.”

“I’ve always wanted to though. My great aunt had a human friend for many years and she use to tell me stories about them. They passed before I was born so I never got to meet them.”

“Oh,” Sawyer replied. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s actually why Yaesha asked for Master Donal to give me this position.”

“Yaesha?”

“Yep!” Clara replied cheerily. “He said I would be uniquely suited and that he thought you and I would get along very well. But I was so shy I couldn’t say anything! And then I felt like I may have offended you or...”

Sawyer laughed. “No, you didn’t. You’ve just been so quite I thought maybe you didn’t like humans.”

“I love humans!” Clara declared. “I’ve been dying to talk to you...I just...couldn’t think of anything to say.”

“Well, how about we start with just...getting to know each other? We can ask for some tea to be brought up.”

“It’s almost luncheon,” Clara said. “I can bring us up some food and we can just chat.”

Sawyer smiled. “That sounds lovely, actually.”

With an excited bounce, Clara went to fetch their food as Sawyer closed the medical tome, and she glanced towards Yaehsa’s closed office door. She smirked and shook her head.

Yaesha, you nosy old goat...

[just-another-wasteland-merc]

Hey guys. I got a message a while ago about getting more into Em’s story, and now that I finally have a little more than a half second to post something, I thought I’d share. This isn’t the happiest of blurbs, but this is important. I love feedback, I love everyone who reads this! Also, sorry that I talk a lot before content, but I like to be more than just a content machine. :D If you want to know, the pair are juuuust starting their friendship, so they don’t know a whole lot about each other in this blurb. At least, not yet. :3

Em sighed as she sat down on the stoop of her old house, plopping her butt down on the cracked concrete. Reaching  behind her head, she took down her bun, letting her hair fall past her shoulders in waves. The breeze played with a few strands. She closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face, a small smile on her face. 

“Something on your mind?” 

She jumped, her eyes snapping open, resting on MacCready, who had his hands turned up in surrender.

“Whoa,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you, promise.”

She watched as he sat next to her, reaching into his duster and pulled out a bottle of beer, holding it out to her. She eyed him, but took it, flipping off the cap and taking a swig.

“How many pockets do you have in there?” she asked playfully.

He smirked. “Enough to hold a couple bottles if needed,” he replied, sipping at his own beer. “Got a few minutes?”

“We’re stuck here for a while, Mac. Whatcha got?”

“Well… I don’t know much about you, boss.”

She gave a laugh. “You don’t have to call me that, remember?”

“Sorry, Em. Do you have any stories? Like about when you were in Anchorage? You must have seen something.”

She took a swig, thinking. Her head dipped a little, letting her hair form a wall between them.

“Hey,” he said softly, moving her hair back over her shoulder. “You don’t have to if-”

“You asked, Mac. I’ll answer.”

He fell quiet. She collected her thoughts, sighed one more time, then looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“There was one… he was probably seventeen or so. Barely there for more than a few weeks, but he was one of the more ‘excited’ ones. The kid.. God, he was a sweetheart. He knew that it was dangerous, but he signed up willingly to protect his family from afar. Talked about them a lot, invited his squad over to his place for a celebration when we won the war. Future plans, you know?”

He nodded, but she didn’t see. She stared straight ahead.

“We were sent to clear a building that the Chinese had taken over. We had to take it back, mostly because of the AA guns that were there. He went first, then one other, then me. It was going fine, until the kid stepped on a mine. He jumped back, but not far enough and not quick enough. Blew him open. The shrapnel had sliced him nearly to shreds.”

MacCready winced, trying not to watch her. His eyes betrayed him more than once, landing on her face as her eyes went distant.

“There…. There wasn’t anything I could do. The damage wasn’t anything I could repair with the supplies I had. I basically held his hand, letting him know it was okay. He fought it for a while, but I told him it was just like going to sleep.” She wiped under her eye and sniffed. “His buddy was there with us the whole time. Kept telling the kid it was going to be okay, nothing was going to happen to him anymore, and he was going home. He smiled a little, and told us ‘tell my mom not to cry. I don’t want her to cry for me.’ Then he just...closed his eyes.”

They were quiet for a while, silent tears falling from her eyes. He took her beer from her hand, setting it down next to him and pulled her to him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean..”

She sniffed, shaking her head. “It’s okay.” 

After another bout of silence, she pulled away, wiping her eyes. “There was one other that sticks out,” she said. “My best friend then. She…”

“You don’t have to talk about it, Em. Not if you don’t want to.”

“No, Mac. It’s important. It.. It might help you understand.”

He nodded, pushing more of her hair over her shoulder.

“Her name was Cass. She was our squad’s comm specialist. All things communications, repairing radios, or even tech that was fried, she fixed it. She taught me a few things to repair, improve, all that.”

He looked down, surprised, as something grabbed his hand. It was hers. Her grip on him almost hurt with how hard she was holding it. He stayed quiet. 

“We took a break one night, heading out for some air. We knew the rules: never go anywhere alone, even to the bathroom. Cass was my buddy anyway, since we were the only two girls in the squad. We headed out, cause she needed a smoke. We took off our helmets to sit on them so our asses wouldn’t get full of snow. She sat down and…”

With her other hand, she held up a finger gun and pulled it back, firing it.

“Bam. Gone.”

“A sniper?” Mac asked. She nodded.

“We figured he was over on the opposite ridge. Never found them.”

She sighed. “I dragged her back where we were holed up. I don’t remember much after that.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I felt numb. It didn’t really register that she was gone until we got her back to our FOB so she could be accounted for and sent home.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. His hand rested on her back, surprising both of them. What was he doing? He didn’t usually comfort others, this was a first in a while for him. She was surprised to be receiving such contact. She mentally shrugged it off.

“I don’t know if I can say if it’s okay or not,” she confessed. “I don’t think it’s okay.”

“It might not seem like it right now,” he murmured, “but it will be. Eventually.”

“How do you know?” she asked as she drew her knees up to her chest, letting go of his hand as she hugged her legs while resting her chin on her knees.

“I’ve seen things too.” He watched her as she looked at him. “It doesn’t get better sometimes, but it’ll eventually get easier.”

“Is it okay for you?”

He gave her a small, sad smile. “Not yet, Em.” He rested his arm around her. She picked her head up and rested it on his shoulder. She scooted closer to him. When he spoke again, he was so quiet she almost missed it.

“But it will be.”