#round here it's open carry open bottles too and when the sheriff's at my door i'm always hoping that it's you....

[parme-san]

i was all ready to dunk on spongeopp for being in his feelings and shit in Can Gangsters Cry but it ended up being an instant favorite. Fuck my gay life

[samhainsflesh]

Midnight Hour (Cowboy!Logan x Fem!Reader — Western AU)

Summary: It’s past midnight. The saloon is closed and you���re fixing the mess that’s been left behind.But the night takes a twist when Logan uses the bar to hide from the town’s sheriff.

Tags: western, enemies to lovers, angst, sexual tension, passionate kissing, a bit of fluff.

Words: 2.3 k

A/C: I’ve been watching a bunch of westerns lately so I had to do something with Logan.

AO3 link:

✞﹏𓃗﹏✞

You are cleaning up the broken bottles and beer spills of that night after the saloon closed. The wooden doors are shut. Past midnight, death lingers in the valley; the only sounds are the distant howls of coyotes. Every now and then, you’d hear the crack of gunshots, the frantic pounding of horses’ hooves running from one place to other, or an occational scream cutting through the darkness. But not a single soul dares to interfere in the affairs of those who own the night. 

You take a glance out the window. The wind stirs up the dirt in clouds, carrying it across the streets. The full moon lights up the shape of two horses riding in the distance. It’s the sheriff and his right hand going their rounds, circling like wolves — searching for something, or someone. 

Out of curiosity, you lean out of the window for a better look, but as soon as you stick your head out, a hand covers your mouth. Your heart leaps as you find yourself face-to-face with a man with a cowboy hat, mutton chops and a plaid shirt looking at you dead in the eye.

"Let me in, darlin’. I’ll pay for the beers" he mutters.

You try to speak, but his hand tightens over your mouth as he gets closer to you.

"You don’t wanna get yourself hurt now, do ya?’

You shake your head.

“Atta’ girl. Open the door.”

With your trembling hand, you unlock the door. The man comes in a blink of an eye, asking you to lock the door again. He procedes to bring the window shutters down.

You run towards the counter, your eyes locking on a broken bottle lying on the floor. Grabbing it by the neck, you use the jagged edge like a weapon, pointing it at the stranger.

“What do you want?” you tell him as you step closer.

He grins under the brim of his cowboy hat and leans back in one of the chairs, kicking his boots up onto the table.

“Relax, I don’t carry guns. Don’t like’em.” He says holding his hands up, showing you they’re empty. “You can put that down”

“What about a knife? you got one?”

He chuckles, quite amused, but his smile fades quickly “Look, I don’t have much time, I need you to listen carefully”.

“We don’t have much money if that’s what you’re after.”

“We?” he narrows his eyes ��Is someone else here?”

“No” you answer way too quickly.

A noise that comes from the backroom of the saloon draws his attention.

“No?” he stands up towering you “I think you’re lyin’ to me sweetie” 

You try show you’re not afraid by sitting down besides him, holding his gaze. “Just tell me what you want, jackass” you say firmly, though yours hands shake a little. 

The stranger notices this. 

“You got some nerve in you” he leans back in his seat again.

“I deal with men like you every night”

He chuckles, “I don’t think you’ve ever met a man like me” he makes a brief pause “You can call me Logan”

“ I’m not telling you my name”

“That’s fine, the less we now about each other, the better”

“Agreed” You say, placing the broken bottle on the table but keeping it within reach.

“Alright, speak, girl” he says firmly. 

“That’s the owner of the saloon in the backroom. You don’t get to hurt him, you hear me? he’s old, he can barely hear a thing”

Logan’s expression softens just a bit “I won’t do anything to you or him, as long as you behave. Listen, I got into some trouble, alright? The sheriff’s out looking for me. I just need to lay low for a couple of hours, and then I’m gone. I’ve had enough of this damn town already.”

“Are you a bounty hunter?”

He scoffs. “I wish I was one. At least i’d get paid for this crap”. He leans closer to you, dropping his voice “Lock the old man up in the backroom. You’ll stay here and cover for me. And don’t even think about trying anything stupid, sweetheart” He continues “Also, I know everybody around here keeps a shotgun behind the counter, so you’re gonna hand over the one you’ve got ”. 

You narrow your eyes and rise slowly, your movements are delibarte. You head towards the counter, aware of his boots following behind you. The weight of his gaze presses against your back, and every time you glance over your shoulder, his eyes are locked on you, unflinching. 

You grab the shotgun from the counter and lay it down in front of him. “There you have it…Logan”. A smirk draws in his face as he hears his name coming from your lips.

“Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Before you respond, The back door opens. The old man steps in. Panic flashes across his face. Though his hearing is far from perfect, his instincts are still sharp enough to grab the shotgun from the counter.

Instantly, Logan grabs you by the waist and pulls you firmly against him. His arms encircle you, holding you immobile. And then it happens. 

Claws cut from the flesh of his knuckles. The bones extent aiming the sharp ends at you.

The old man stares horrified in desbelief as he loads the gun “What… what are you?”

“Right now, I’m your fucking problem.” He says as the edge of his claws come close to your neck.“Put the gun down, it’s useless”.

Logan notices the genuine fear in your eyes, although you try to take hold of your trembling body. 

He leans closer to you. His warm breath brushing your ear as he whispers “Don’t worry beautiful. I’m not going to use it on ya. Just help me calm him down”. A weird mixture of unease and desire twistes in your insides.

“H-hey, leave the goddamn gun. He’s going to kill us both if you don’t, old man” you gesture the man as you speak to make your point. At first the old man resists. But he loosens his grip when he reads your lips saying : “please”. 

The second the old man lowers his guard, Logan knocks him out. 

As soon as the body hits the floor you run towards the man to check on him. He’s just momentarily passed out.

Anger clouds your thoughts as you stand up and sucker punch Logan straight in the face. 

“Damn. I deserved it, alright” he responds, rubbing his jaw.

You raise your hand to give him another swing but he grabs you by your wrists. His grip is firm enough to stop you but very careful so he doesn’t hurt you.

“Careful, darlin’” he warns in a serious tone

“Bastard” you spit on him.

“He’ll be okay” 

“He better be or-”

“Or what? you’ll kill me?” he interrupts, leaving you speechless.

Your head is a mess. Confusion, anger, attraction, everything at once. 

“I need your help” he speaks softly letting go of your wrists. “Just need to finish this and I’ll never bother you and that old fuck again.” You nod. “And don’t hit me again”.

He releases your wrists. You both stare each other for a second without uttering a single word.

“First, help me carry the old man upstairs. I’m not chaining him in the backroom” you demand.

Logan helps you lay the body of the old man in the bedroom upstairs. Time passes by in that small room as you both sit in silence, looking through the window.

“How can you do that? that thing with your bones” you finally break the ice again.

He shrugs “ I was born like this”. 

“Are there more like you?”

“Hey, I thought you said you didn’t want to know anything ‘bout me”

“That was 5 minutes ago, previous to the… claws” you pause “Do they hurt when they come out?”

“Every time” 

You get closer and closer to him. He’s very still, holding his arms crossed. He analises your movements with his eyes. You extent your hand to touch his knuckles but his first reaction is to pull away, a little scared. You notice there’s a vulnerable side to him, you know he’s scared to hurt you with his claws. His hands show no sign of damage, the skin is completely healed. “Fascinating”

You can sense his eyes locking in you with a soft gaze. “You ain’t scared?”

“Well, a bit” you respond with sincerity “but I’m mainly surprised” pause “Is this why they’re chasing you?”

“Well, it’s a lil complex…”

Your conversation gets interrupted by the sound of the pound of the horses’ hooves marching towards the saloon. The sheriff and his right hand nock the front door of the bar.

You grab him by the shirt and shove him into your closet. “Stay quiet” 

Dowstairs, the sheriff saluts you “G’night, girl. You were closing?.”

“Yes”

“I know it’s supposed to be closed by now but may we come in? We’ve been searching for this looney in town for hours and we’re thirsty as hell”

“I don’t know, I should ask the owner. I’m not allowed-”

“Come on, it’ll be just a minute” the right hand insists.

“ Just a minute”.

Both men enter the room as it was theirs. "Where’s that old timer of mine?"

“Sleeping. He was very tired”.

“Poor old man huh, always working. Serve us some beer please ” 

You hand them their drinks. As they finish the beers in a hurry, The sheriff’s wingman noticies a spot of blood on the floor and broken glass, alongside Logan’s hat.

“Tough night?”

“Yeah, some fellas got into a fight. One even forgot his hat. You know how those animals are”

“those pigs” replies the right hand.

As you try to keep the sheriff distracted, a loud creak echoes from upstairs. Your heart stops.

“What was that?”

“Just the old man. He sometimes moves in his sleep”

“Mind if I check upstairs?”

“No problem” you curse under your breath.

In the room, the old man snores. The sheriff scans the room with his eyes. Everything seems in order. He looks back at you. 

“You sure you’re alright, miss? You look a little pale.”

“yeah, it’s just a headache” 

“Alright, we won’t bother you no longer. Thanks for the drinks. If anything happens you let me know. Good night.”

Both men leave the place, riding their horses.

You quickly go upstairs. “Logan? Logan?” you call for him with a hint of despair in your voice.

The closet door creaks open, and Logan steps out, dusting himself off.

“This damn thing wasn’t built for a guy like me,” he mutters, glaring at the splintered wood.

You sit on the floor, overwhelmed by the situation. 

“You were worried about me weren’t ya?” he answers fixing himself up. “You actually helped a convict escape, that’s a federal crime ma´am”

You are still absorbed in your thoughts. 

“You’d make a hell of a sidekick, y’know ”

You glare at him without answering.

“Or a hell of a lover.” adds with a playful smirk

You stand abruptly. 

“I’d never be with someone like you” you reply as you go downstairs, avoiding him.

He follows your steps. “You wouldn’t date a freak?’”

“I wouldn’t date a criminal”

“So you don’t mind me being a freak but you do mind me being a criminal? you’re adorable ma’am”

“I’m not” you tell him while you pick up his hat from the floor trying to return it to him.

“You are” he gently grabs your chin with his fingers. 

You feel the sudden impulse to kiss him. Both your lips close in a gentle kiss that escalates into a more intense one. The rush of adrenaline accumulated from the previous tense situation makes you both desperate for each other. Although he was much stronger than you, he let himself be guided by you against the counter. He raises you like a feather over the bar, placing his body between your legs. His kisses run through your neck, your arms. Every now and then, your tongue reaches his mouth with unspeakable hunger.

You pull him away. 

“Something’s wrong?” he asks trying to catch his breath.

“No. Yes” you struggle to sort out you feelings.

“I’ve got a couple of hours left here, if you wanna… get into it. I don’t mind doing it on the counter.”

“What about him?” You nod toward the room upstairs.

“Well, we’d just have to keep it quiet, wouldn’t we?”

You chuckle at his playful manners, but your smile fades as reality sinks in.

“I think you should go Logan.” You reach up, fixing a strand of his hair that got messed up during your heated moment.

“ That’s what you really want?” he mutters softly, looking straight into your eyes.

“Well… no” you admit after a pause. “But he’s going to wake up anytime soon. I need to fix this mess. Next time you come here, we’ll finish our business”.

“It’s a deal”

You’re still on the counter, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist. You place his hat back on his head. He gives you a small, genuine smile. For a man who seemed so rough and dangerous, there’s a softness to him now that makes your chest tighten.

You place a goodbye kiss on his lips “You’re not that bad for an outlaw with… claws”

“Thank you for everything, sugar. I’m really sorry for all this.”

Before stepping out, he glances back at you. “You haven’t told me your name.”

“Not yet boy, You’ll have to wait till next time”

“Can’t wait, ma’am” He tips his hat with a smirk before disappearing into the night.

✞﹏𓃗﹏✞

[moonbeamunson]

Can gangsters cry?

‘Cause lately, it’s been weighin’ on my mind

And I say I’m fine

‘Cause underwater, no one sees a teary eye

And baby, all the beef in Bikini Bottom got me stressin’ out

I’m sorry I didn’t have the time for you, and now you’re sayin’, “Bye”

Girl, I’m sorry that I ripped my pants

And I know that you don’t like romance

But all I wanna do is be right there by your side

Can gangsters cry?

Sandy, I’ve been missin’ on you

Karate ain’t the same without you

Now I’m wonderin’, can gangsters cry?

Woah

Uh, bartender

Just, uh, just the usual, please

Kelp shake, with um, extra lean

‘Round here, it’s open carry, open bottles, too

And when the sheriff’s at my door, I’m always hopin’ that it’s you

Now I’m drinkin’ days away at the Salty Spitoon

And I might be lookin’ yellow, but inside, I’m feelin’ blue

Sandy, please forgive me, and the damage that I’ve done

I might escape the law, but it’s your love I can’t outrun

Can gangsters cry?

‘Cause lately, it’s been weighin’ on my mind (Been weighin’ on my mind)

And I say I’m fine

‘Cause underwater, no one sees a teary eye

(No one gets me except you, Sandy)

Can gangsters cry?

Sandy, I’ve been missin’ on you

Karate ain’t the same without you

Now I’m wonderin’, can gangsters cry?

Woah

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Warnings: noncon/rape, mentions of prostitution, bullying/humiliation, coercion.

This is dark!Lee Bodecker and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You bail your mother out but you still owe the sheriff.

Based on these drabble requests:

Lee Bodecker + “I could crush your throat right now.” + Humiliation/bullying + y/n is the daughter of the town's hooker, but she is nothing like her mother, everyone is mean to her just because her mom's work . Lee have fun with her just bc for him she is the same trash as her mother. requested by anonymous.

You could still smell the alcohol on your mother. Her hair and clothes stank of it and the stale piss of the county jail cell. It made your eyes water, just like the glares of the townsfolk as you left the precinct.

They all knew, it was a small place, how could they not? They saw you almost every week bringing your ma out those doors, another twenty dollars to the station to set her free so she could do it all again. The same spite and disgust in their stares, the same judgment bearing down on you like a coyote on a barn cat.

“What happened to the grocery store?” you asked your ma quietly, “you said you wouldn’t do this no more. You don’t need to, ma. We got food, a roof--”

“Johnny Hatton gave me a whole bottle of whiskey,” she said, her voice still thick from the alcohol, “and for what, five minutes with my hand.”

“I don’t need to hear that,” you scowled and kept your head down as Gerry, the butcher, spat at your feet as you passed, “you want some drink, I can buy you drink, ma, but you shouldn’t be gettin’ so drunk, neither.”

“Gail fired me,” she grumbled and you kept her up before she could tumble, “found the bottle in my bag. Now I was gon’ pay for it before I left--”

You sighed and came to a stop at the corner as a car drove in front of you. You waited and watched the tail light. You took a step off the curb and nearly hit the side of the cruiser as it pulled up. The sheriff bent to meet your eye from the other end of the seat and you clung to your mother.

“Need a ride?” he asked.

“She just got out, sheriff, we’re just on our way home,” you said quietly. It was often Sheriff Bodecker who signed over your ma to you but that morning had been a cadet.

“Easier with some wheels under ya,” he said.

You sniffed and looked around. He was never overly friendly, the stern officer and his wide-brimmed hat put fear into most around, even when they hadn’t committed an offense. And like many in the town, he laughed at your ma and you, even asked you once or twice if you took after her.

“It’s not far,” you said, “but I appreciate the offer.”

“Nonsense,” his door swung open and he closed it heavily, “lemme help ya.” He came around and opened the back door, “you put her in here and take the front. She’s barely on her feet,” he took your mother’s other arm and angled her under the roof of the car, “whew, she smell like a sill.”

You held your tongue as your mother slumped across the leather and he shut the door. You stared at the side of the car and he touched your arm, “go on and get in, missy.”

You drew away from him and he pulled open the door. You ducked your head down and sat on the passengers side. He got in beside you and drove back out onto the street, easing into the sleepy small town traffic.

You were quiet; nervous. You didn’t know the sheriff to be a generous man, no one would ever say that of him. Your ma had sown a lot of discord in the town and you were no stranger to the bitterness that you inherited. Of all the people, Sheriff Bodecker should be most offended by her back alley antics.

“What’s a matter, missy?” he asked as he steered.

You shook your head and stared out the window. He stopped and tutted.

“Ya know, a lawman ask you a question and you should answer,” he warned, “now why you so quiet?”

“I don’t talk much, sir,” you shrugged.

“But you got a tongue,” he said, “and you fidgeting something awful over there.”

“I… just don’t know why you offer a ride,” you muttered, “ain’t no one round let my ma in their backseat, no even for a dime.”

“You looked like you needed help. I’m the sheriff, my job is to help,” he drove on and turned down your street.

“I suppose,” you said, “thank you.”

“See, now was that so hard?” he asked, “a thank you’s all I wanted.”

He pulled up in front of the ramshackle house you and your ma lived in. You got out without thinking and opened the back door. The other side opened and he grabbed your ma and dragged her out with his arms under hers. You tried to catch her ankle but he had her on her feet quickly, though she was swaying and half-unconscious.

“You show me where to put her,” he said as he kicked the door shut.

“I can take her,” you came around to him, “thank you, sheriff.”

“Nah, you go on and get the door, I can handle her a lot better than you, missy,” he said, “got a bit more brute in me.”

You held in a sigh and went around him. He turned and followed you up the slanted steps and you unlocked the front door. He lifted her feet and carried her over the threshold. You didn’t want him coming too far in so you backed up and watched him enter the front room.

“Just there on the sofa,” you pointed to the sagging cushions, “that’s fine.”

“Alright,” he crossed the room and put her down, he dusted off his hands on his pants as he stood straight. 

He looked around and removed his hat, his fingertips tapping on his pudgy stomach as he mused at the pale interior. He clicked his tongue and turned to you again.

“Well, I know your ma ain’t much of a housekeeper but it only polite to offer a guest something to drink,” he said, “something for my trouble.”

You put your purse on the chest of drawers by the door and crossed your arms. You teetered on the balls of your feet.

“I got milk or tea, sheriff,” you said, “tap water?”

“Tea,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind something to warm me up.”

You nodded and slipped past him. You went to the kitchen and moved the kettle onto the burner. You turned on the gas and heard his boots on the floor as he appeared in the doorframe. You looked up at him and carried on, searching for some leaves in the cupboard.

You sensed him getting closer and he came up behind you. His arms snaked under yours as you reached up and moved aside the cans and boxes. He cupped your tits and pushed you against the counter. You dropped your hands to his and tried to tear them away from your chest.

“What’re you doin’?” you gasped as you wrestled with him.

“I’d say you owe me,” he rocked you against the counter, “wouldn’t you?”

“Please, let go of me,” you begged, “I’m makin’ you tea--”

“I don’t want tea,” his hand crawled down and he yanked at your skirt, “like mother like daughter, huh? You know how to pay a man.”

“Stop,” you slapped his hand and he ignored you.

He spun your around and your head swam from the suddenness of it. He scooped you up easily and sat you on the counter as he pushed between your knees. He shoved your skirt up as you fought to keep the hem down. You kicked out around him as he reached for your knickers.

“Sheriff!” you cried out.

“You wan’ wake your ma?” he growled, “let her know she taught you well? If she can even be woke.”

He snickered and tore your underwear down your legs, moving back only to get them past your ankles. He slid quickly between your legs again and pulled your closer. He grabbed your jaw and squeezed as his other hand fumbled with his belt. You whined and writhed against him.

“Now, you stay still,” his hand went to his holster, “don’t make me do anything rash, missy. I could crush your throat right now.”

“Please, sheriff,” you grabbed his wrist as he held your chin.

“You already beggin’ me, missy,” he pushed his zipper down and stepped closer as he pulled himself out above his underwear, “now let’s not get too loud or you’ll be disturbin’ the neighbours.”

He poked against your cunt as he slid you closer and reached between you to line himself up. He pushed into you with a sharp thrust and you exclaimed. His grip tightened on your jaw as your lips parted and he covered your mouth with his.

He tilted his hips painfully against you, lifting you slightly off the counter as he did. He nibbled your lip as his hand wandered down to grope your chest again. His breath hitched as he fucked you and you were surrounded by his heat. You quivered as each crash of his pelvis hurt worse than the last.

“That’s it, missy,” he purred and bent your leg around him, “just like that. Move them hips, girl.”

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

Couldn't remember if you were looking for prompts from a specific list but I couldn’t find one so hopefully I can inspire a Lee fic with the dialogue "we don't have to wait" where Lee grows impatient as he drives reader to a dinner date after she finally said yes to him... anyways, luv ya! -Roo

Pairings - Lee Bodecker x Reader

Words - 1523

Warnings - attempted mugging, slight choking, character manipulation, implied sex

A/N - Roo! Thanks so much for sending me this prompt, I love writing for Lee. Hopefully it was worth the wait, thanks as always to @buckyownsmylife for beta reading this and fixing my mistakes as usual.

Working at the police station for the last year you got to know the best and worst of your town. People seemed to lay it all out at the station, Mrs Langley came by once a week with a pie and a smile hoping to get some gossip from you, but you were always tight lipped, you gave her a thin smile and sent her on her way every time.

Sheriff Lee Bodecker had been on a campaign to win the town over and become mayor, you thought it was nothing more than a power trip but he couldn't be worse than the man in charge now, he was as corrupt and dirty as the Sheriff but he was also very handsy with the young girls and for that alone you wanted to see him gone.

You were refreshing your mug of coffee when Lee came  into the break room looking for you. “Are you ever going to let me take you out, sweets?” he asked you, standing a bit too close and tilting your chin up with his fingers.

“No, sheriff, I can't. It's not a good idea for me to be dating the boss, people will talk about me, saying I only got the job by getting on my back.” You manoeuvred away from him, smiling softly and going back to your desk. You didn’t want to go out with the man, something about him gave you the creeps and you couldn’t put your finger on it but the more distance between you and that man the better.

The next morning went the same as any other, Deputy Greaves brought in the box of pastries, Darlene brought in the large pot of coffee and everyone sat around the table to have the team meeting. As the station secretary it was your job to take notes and so you sat next to the Sheriff thinking nothing of him pulling his chair closer and leaning into your space. You sat absentmindedly doodling little animals on your page as Detective Hill droned on and on about the potholes on main street when you felt it. His thigh was pushed up against yours, you couldn’t move away from him without making it obvious, so you decided to try and ignore it while carrying on making notes.

A few minutes passed and his hand was suddenly resting on your thigh, fingers lazily playing with the hem of your skirt. You looked up at him and saw that he was just staring straight ahead, listening to the speech that still hadn’t ended. His hand started to move, hitching your skirt higher but not touching you anymore than he was. Your face heated up and you were so distracted you hadn’t realised Deputy Greaves had asked you a question, asking him to repeat it you saw the Sheriff smile to himself and move his hand away, clearly satisfied with whatever it was that he was trying to accomplish.

Getting back to your desk, you aren’t sure if you should say something or if you should just leave it, he was the sheriff and he could make your life very difficult if he wanted to. Deciding to ignore it, you quickly type up the notes and get them handed out to the team, before grabbing your purse and rushing to the diner for lunch.

You aren’t very far from the station when someone runs past you and grabs your bag, trying to snatch it off your shoulder, he threatens to hurt you unless you give it up. You scream for help and, seemingly out of nowhere, Lee grabs him and pushes him up against the wall, cuffing him and roughing him up a little.

The sense of relief you feel because he was nearby rushes through you and you can’t stop thanking him. He chuckles at you and smiles down, lifting your chin up the way he always seems to. “You can thank me by going out with me tonight? C’mon sweets, just one night, let me take you out.” You nod and smile a little at him, you can’t really say no, he saved you. Just one night and he’ll leave you alone, he’ll move on to whoever his next infatuation is.

Lee takes the mugger round the corner and quickly uncuffs him, handing him some money and checking he didn’t hurt him too much. “Thanks man, worked a treat” before sending him in the opposite direction and heading back to the station.

After taking a long lunch at the Sheriff's insistence you get back to your desk. Your cheeks warm up a little when you see a small bunch of flowers, the note attached reading “I'll pick you up at 8, dress nicely. LB”. You push the flowers to the edge of your desk and try not to think about it, how was it going to work? You didn’t want to go but couldn’t really say no, you’d just put on a brave face and smile at him politely. One night, that's all, you repeat to yourself once again.

You’re finishing up some paperwork when you hear someone clearing their throat for attention, looking up you see Mrs Langley stood with what looked like a peach cobbler, no doubt here for her weekly gossip. You thought she would somehow know about your date so you tried to not talk at all in case she used her old lady magic on you and made you spill the beans. Lee walked past just as you were deep into her chat about the Henderson boys and their latest prank in the town square, he raised his eyebrow to question you and all you could do was give him a tiny smile, he winked at you, tipped his hat and left to do his patrol.

It was 7:55, you were ready and waiting for him. The dread in your stomach makes you feel even more nervous than usual so you have a quick swig from the brandy bottle you keep in your kitchen. Hearing a knock on your door, you smooth your dress out and answer with a nervous smile. Lee looks good, it's the first time you’ve seen him without his uniform on and you actually quite like it, he almost looks like a normal guy and not the creep you’re used to.

He holds his arm out for you to take and leads you to his car where he opens the door like a gentleman, you make small talk and strangely enjoy being in his company. He seems more relaxed than he is usually. Seeing the diner up ahead, you grab your handbag from the footwell but look at him strangely when he drives straight past. He watches you from the corner of his eye and smirks to himself when you put your bag back down, visibly confused.

Pulling into what looks like some sort of lovers lane he stops the car and turns his body to you, the expression on his face like nothing you had ever seen before. “Lee, what are we doing here? I thought we were going to Jimmys?” He scoffs at the suggestion that he would take you there on a first date where the whole town would be watching.

“You know I'm running for town mayor?” He runs his fingers up and down your neck, making you shiver. You nod at him and try to move away from his inquisitive fingers. “I’m going to need a pretty little wife by my side, everyone loves a family man”.

You lean back and look at him in horror “And what, you think this is the best way to get a wife?” you spit out, shocked when his fingers suddenly wrap around your throat, gently squeezing in warning. His eyes darken as he takes in your form, admiring the pretty blue dress you wore for him. Smirking at the fear in your eyes, he moves his hand from your throat and squeezes your chin.

“I need a wife and a baby, you’re here now, we don't have to wait, I know you want this or you wouldn't have agreed to be here tonight.” He keeps a firm hold of you and uses his other hand to slowly unbutton your dress. Pulling it open he marvels at your white cotton brassiere, rubbing his thumb over your nipple before pinching it, making you gasp out.

He sits back and unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans and underwear down enough to free his hard cock. “Now be a good girl, get over here and take a seat,” he growls at you, grabbing you and pulling you towards him. “You’re all mine now, don’t forget that or I can make you disappear just like wife number one,” he sneers at you, patting the gun he had stored in the door. Getting you into position over his lap he grabs your hair at the scalp. “You’ll make me such a good man sweets, now get to work.” He pushes his chair back and smiles at you as you sink down and whine for him, tears silently rolling down your cheeks.

[440mxs-wife]

Tea of Love

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Other Characters: Sam, Castiel, Crowley, Rowena

Imagine: You’re hunting a witch with Sam and Dean, only to fall victim to her curse.

A/N: This is my contribution to the SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge offered by @supernatural-jackles. I signed up to contribute on a monthly basis, but it looks like I missed the deadline. Here it is all the same. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean parked the Impala a good distance away from the two-story farmhouse. Far enough away to be hidden from sight, but still within running distance for a quick getaway if needed.

You had received word that a witch was causing trouble, and had tracked her to the town of Smithville, Arkansas. The plan was to sneak in to the house, with you going in through the back entrance, while Sam and Dean went in through the front door.

"All right, weapons check," Dean whispered. Each of you ejected the clip from your handguns, yours from your .380, to make sure it was full of witch-killing bullets. Satisfied, you re-inserted the clip and pulled back on the hammer so that a round was in the chamber. After a successful weapons check, Sam went up the steps and started picking the lock on the front door.

"Ready?" you asked as you turned to head for the back door.

Dean nodded. "Hey? Be careful," he remarked softly.

You sent him a quick smile. "Always, Dean. See you inside," you replied. You and Sam be careful too, Dean, you said in silent prayer.

Quickly and quietly, you made your way to the back door. The wooden steps to the porch looked like they had seen too many blistering summers and frostbitten winters to still be stable. You carefully climbed the steps, sticking to the edges where the wood appeared to be less worn.

You gingerly tested the doorknob, only to find that it turned easily in your hand. An unlocked door could mean one of two things: a careless witch or you had just walked into her trap. While you were hoping for the first option, with your luck, you had a feeling it was probably door #2. You tiptoed through the kitchen, through the living room and down the hall to the bedrooms. First bedroom on the right was clear, second one across the hall was also clear.

As you carefully approached the last bedroom, you realized that you hadn't seen Sam or Dean yet. You stopped and strained your ears for any confirmation that they had even entered the house yet. Just as you were about to resume your progress towards the bedroom door, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You whipped around, only to be confronted by the mossy green orbs of one Dean Winchester.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you took a moment for it to return to normal before continuing your trek down the hall. "What is wrong with you?" you hissed. "You shouldn't just sneak up on me like that!"

"Well, excuse me," he shot back. "First of all, I didn't expect for you to have gotten this far without running into the witch. And 'B', isn't it better to go in knowing you have backup than only hoping you do?" he retorted.

You took a deep breath before answering. "You're right. Sorry Dean," you whispered. "Let's get this witch taken down so we can blow this popstand," you replied.

Dean nodded and motioned for you to continue down the hall. You turned the doorknob and slowly swung the door open. You entered the room first to assess the situation, while Dean stood just outside the door, ready to bust in if needed.

The witch had her back to you as she sprinkled something into a bowl. All of a sudden she raised her arms above her head as if in victory and turned to face the doorway. "I was wondering when you hunters were going to show up. I've been expecting you," she smirked.

Before you could raise your weapon, she picked up the bowl and threw its contents at you. The blue powder from the bowl doused you almost completely from head to toe. As she chanted some words in Latin, the powder started to glow and burn a bit wherever it touched bare skin. You cried out in pain, at which time Dean entered the room and fired his weapon. The witch fell to the floor, dead from the witch-killing bullet he fired.

"Dean," you pleaded softly as you started to feel faint.

"Whoa, hold on there. Stay with me, sweetheart," Dean said as he rushed to catch you before you could hit the floor. He called out for Sam, who had finally caught up with you and Dean. Sam scooped you up in his arms and carried you out to the Impala.

Dean filled him in on what had happened between you and the witch. "I don't know what kind of spell she got hit with, so we're going to have to be ready for just about anything," Dean said grimly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You carefully opened your eyes enough to notice that you were back in your room, in your bed instead of the backseat of the Impala. You decided to sit up, only to be met with a splitting headache. A groan of pain escaped your lips as you eased back onto your pillow and draped your bandaged arm across your eyes.

There was a soft knock at your door, then you heard it creak open. "Hiya, sweetheart," Dean said softly. "How're you feeling?" he asked.

"Like I got hit by a truck. Twice," you grumbled.

Dean chuckled. "Here, I gotcha," he said as he handed you a couple of painkillers and a bottle of water. He helped you up to a sitting position, putting pillows between your back and the headboard.

"Thank you," you replied. "What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is that witch throwing a bowl of some kind of powder at me. Then I remember her chanting something, the powder burning into my skin, then you killed her," you finished.

"Well, that's about it, you collapsed after that and we brought you back here in the Impala," Dean explained. "Sam brought you in and put you on your bed," he remarked.

"How long was I out?" you asked.

"You've been out for about a day and a half, sweetheart," he remarked softly. "We called Rowena to see if she could tell what you may have been hit with, so we'd know how to counteract it. And, oh yeah, Crowley tagged along, just so you know," he grumbled.

"Oh. Fabulous," you deadpanned. "I'll bet he's just been a joy to be around," you snorted.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, he said he was bored in Hell, so he latched on to Mummy's magic bag to show up here," he grinned.

You reached over and took Dean's hand in yours. "Hey, in case I forgot to tell you, Dean....thank you for getting me out of there and taking care of me here," you remarked softly.

He shifted a little in his seat and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure, no problem. All in a day's work, you know," he said as he jumped up from the chair. "Um, I'm uh....gonna just....yeah. I'll check in on you later," Dean then bolted out of your room.

What the hell was that all about? you thought, as you replayed the conversation in your mind. When you got to the part where you took his hand, you mentally smacked yourself in the forehead. He was fine until then, you realized. After that it was awkward, because he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea. He's telling you that he doesn't think of you in 'that way'. You leaned your head back against the headboard and squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's been almost ten years since you came to live in the bunker. You met the Winchesters through a mutual friend, Sheriff Donna Hanscum, whom you've known since high school. She never knew you were a hunter until after Sam and Dean showed up at that spa she went to. You had caught wind of some strange things happening at that spa, so you went in with her, but undercover as a patient.

You and Sam clicked instantly, becoming best friends. You both nerded out about the same things, like books, sci-fi, and research. You liked the same kinds of movies and were more at home in a library than the bar.

You and Dean were a different story. At first, you didn't get along at all, because he thought you would be someone else he'd have to be responsible for. That is, until you stepped in front of the swipe of a werewolf's claws to save his life. Despite your condition, you still managed to fire off three silver bullets at its heart to kill it before collapsing from your injury. After that, Dean seemed to see you as a fellow hunter, rather than a civilian he had to constantly keep watch over.

Too bad he didn't also see you as a woman--full of passion, kindness and understanding, with eyes only for him. You watched as he showered his attention and affections on countless other women, just not on the one woman who truly knew and loved him. So, you handled your feelings by using the Winchester Method: you shoved them down out of the way and pretended that they didn't exist.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple of hours later, you carefully got out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. You picked up the teakettle, filled it with water and added several pinches of your special blend of tea. While you waited, you grabbed your favorite cup from the cabinet and took a seat at the table.

"Well hello, dear! Nice to see ye up and around, 'specially after what ye've been through, darlin'," a voice from behind you said. You turned to see it was Rowena, which brought a small smile to your face.

"Hello, Rowena," you replied. "Any luck figuring out what we're up against?" you asked.

"Not yet, dearie. Still workin' on it, but don't ye worry abou' it," Rowena assured you.

"I hope so," you murmured. "Would you like some tea?" you asked.

Rowena shook her head and smiled. At that moment, Sam, Dean and Castiel came into the kitchen and walked over to the table. Sam and Cas each squeezed your shoulder as they took their seats. "Hey, sweetheart, you must be feeling better," Dean remarked as he kissed the top of your head.

You smiled and nodded. The teakettle whistled that it was ready to serve, so you rose from the table. "You guys want some tea? I made some from my secret stash," you grinned.

The boys all nodded, so you got out three extra cups, along with the cream, sugar and honey. You poured cups of tea for everyone, then resumed your seat at the table. You added a bit of creamer and some sugar to your tea.

"So, what's in this 'special blend' of tea you made?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's got some dried orange zest in it, some cinnamon, black tea leaves, ground nutmeg. And a few other secret ingredients," you winked conspiratorially.

"Mmm, I think it's delicious," Cas remarked as he took another sip, with Sam nodding in agreement.

Dean watched as you absently stirred your tea, while the others talked among themselves. Your furrowed brow showed him you were still coming to terms with what had happened in the past few days.

It had not yet been determined what kind of curse you'd been hit with, and he knew you had to be worried. Your eyes glistened a bit with unshed tears which told him you might be more than a little scared of that unknown. You stood up from the table just as he was about to reach out for your hand to comfort you.

"I think I'll go take a shower. Might feel a bit more human if I do, after wearing the same clothes for the past few days. Excuse me," you murmured as you left the kitchen. Dean stared after you, wanting so badly to help you. To show you it was okay to be scared, and that he would do everything in his power to figure out how to reverse the spell.

At that moment, Crowley waltzed into the kitchen. "Hello, Mother, Feathers, Moose, Squirrel," he drawled. "Where's our little Mouse? Can't complete the clubhouse roll call unless she's here to sound off," he smirked.

"She left to go take a shower," Dean grumbled as he brushed past Crowley out of the kitchen.

Crowley noticed Dean's full cup of tea and took a drink. "This is wonderful, delicious, wherever did it come from?" he asked. Sam told him it was from your own homemade blend of tea and spices. Crowley shrugged and continued to drink the tea.

As the men continued to drink the tea, Rowena noticed a bit of a change in each one. Their thoughts seemed to become more focused towards you, and had also turned more amorous in nature. Before she could voice her observations, Sam left the table after downing the rest of his tea.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After your shower, you brought your favorite book and settled into a chair in the library. Once you had made yourself comfortable, Sam approached you and knelt beside your chair. He smiled up at you as he took your hand in his and brushed his lips across the back of it.

"Sam, what's going on?" you asked in bewilderment.

"N-nothing, I just wanted to spend some time with you, be around you. What book are you reading?" he asked.

You were a bit confused at the sudden focus of Sam's attention on you. But you pushed it aside for the moment and explained the plot of the book you were reading. He asked if he could read it aloud to you, which you politely declined. Then he broke out the best version of his puppy-dog eyes, and you were powerless to resist. You relented with a smile, and he suggested that you curl up with him on the couch to be more comfortable.

Moving from your chair to the couch, you made sure to bring your favorite blanket with you. Once you got all settled, you showed Sam where you left off in your book so he could start reading. The gentle lilt of Sam's voice as he read to you caused your eyelids to feel heavy until you could no longer keep them open.

Dean walked through the library just in time to see you curled up with Sam, and for Sam to press a kiss to your forehead. An uncomfortable feeling settled into his chest, but he had no idea why. He shook it off for the moment and headed for the garage to work on the Impala.

About an hour later, you awoke to find Sam's arms around you and his cheek pressed against your forehead. You tried to extract yourself, but Sam tightened his embrace a bit more. "Mmm, don't go Baby, stay here with me a little longer," he mumbled.

Baby? you wondered. Since when am I 'Baby' to anyone around here?!? your thoughts screamed.

You managed to wriggle yourself out of his arms and into a upright position. "Sam, wake up. Sam! Wake up!" you shook his arm to try and rouse him. Your efforts were unsuccessful, because he stayed asleep. Puzzled, you picked up your book and your blanket then returned to your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you woke to find that Castiel had set the table for the two of you to have breakfast. "Good morning," he greeted you with a wide smile.

Not quite awake yet, you answered him with a yawn then a smile. "Good morning, Cas. What's going on here?" you asked, gesturing towards the table.

"I thought it would be nice to have breakfast made for you when you awakened, Honeybee," he stated.

'Honeybee'? What is going on with the men in this bunker lately?!? you thought. "Well, you certainly brought out one of my favorites, peanut butter and banana toast," you grinned.

You reached for two slices of bread from the wrapper. Cas took them from your hands before you could put them in the toaster. "Please, allow me," he said. He added the bread to be toasted and proudly pushed down on the lever.

When it was finished, the bread popped up, perfectly golden brown, with no burnt edges. Cas placed the toast on a plate and set it on the table. Just as he was about to pick up the knife to spread the peanut butter, you stopped him. "Cas, not that I don't appreciate it, but I don't mind fixing my own toast. You've done so much already, why don't you take a little break?" you suggested.

His face fell a bit, then all of a sudden lit up. "I just remembered that you like to drink milk with your peanut butter toast. Be back in just a moment," he grinned, tapping the end of your nose before heading to the fridge. Cas returned shortly with a small glass of cold milk. "Here you are, Honeybee," he remarked shyly.

"Thank you, Cas. Exactly what I needed. So, what are your plans today?" you asked.

"I'm glad you asked. I was going to see if you would like to go on a walk with me, maybe see some wildflowers? I know of a lovely field we could visit, if you are interested....?" he asked, his voice full of hope.

You were planning on doing some research to try and find something to counteract the curse. You also didn't want to be too far away from the bunker in case a cure was found. From the look on Castiel's face, though, you couldn't bear to disappoint him.

"That sounds lovely, Cas. We could leave in an hour, if you wish. That would give me time to finish my breakfast, take a shower and all that," you added.

"I shall endeavor to keep myself busy until you return, my sweet Honeybee," Cas said as he took hold of your hand and gently kissed the back. With a whoosh of his wings, he was gone.

As soon as he had gone out of sight, you slumped over the table, putting your head in your hands. Dean arrived in the kitchen shortly after hearing you let out a groan of frustration. "What's with you this morning?" he asked.

You returned to an upright position. "Good morning, Dean. Cas made me breakfast today, which was very sweet, and now he wants me to go with him to check out a field of wildflowers. I think there's something very strange going on around here. I wish I knew what it was," you grumbled.

"Why is Cas wanting to spend time with you and do things for you 'strange'? Do you not enjoy his company? I mean, if you don't want to go, just tell him. Don't string him along, Princess," Dean retorted.

You looked at Dean with a mixture of shock, anger and hurt on your face. "Like I said, something strange is going on around here. First Sam, then Cas, now you," you retorted as you bolted from your chair.

Dean closed his eyes and instantly felt remorse for what he had said, because he knew you weren't like that. You didn't play games with people's emotions, and when you loved someone, you did it with your whole heart. Unfortunately, doing so had led to your heart being broken by too many others along the way.

He understood about your independent nature, which was one of the things he admired about you. To have anyone do anything for you was sometimes hard for you to accept. You were so used to being the one who cared for or catered to others, not so much the other way around.

As he gave it more thought, he realized that neither Sam nor Cas had shown any romantic interest in you until recently. Dean began to wonder if maybe you had a point about strange things going on in the bunker. He promised himself that when you came back from your outing with Cas, that he would apologize.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You and Cas spent a lovely afternoon walking through a field of wildflowers. Cas told you about every species of flower and what each color meant. He found a spot underneath a willow tree, where he produced a picnic basket containing assorted fruits and cheeses. You showed him how to make flower crowns as someone had once shown you. Then you placed one on his head and took a picture.

Upon your return to the bunker, you searched for a vase to hold the wildflowers you and Cas had picked. As you arranged the flowers, Cas placed his hands on your shoulders, then began to run them up and down your arms. When you had finished with the flowers, Cas took one of your hands in his and led you into the library.

Cas punched some buttons on his phone. After appearing quite frustrated at times, he finally relaxed and music started playing from his phone. He pulled you into his arms and started dancing with you, a love-struck grin on his face.

At one point, Cas spun you out away from him, which is the exact moment that Dean walked into the library. He looked at you and Cas dancing with a raised eyebrow, which caused your face to grow warm. "C-Cas, th-thank you for a lovely afternoon," you stammered. "Sorry," you mumbled as you brushed past Dean and out of the room.

"Cas? Is there something going on between you two?" Dean asked.

A large grin spread across Cas' face as he sighed deeply before answering Dean's question. "I'm not sure, Dean. I've never felt the way I do except when I'm with her. I would be the luckiest man in all of Creation if she loved me," he answered dreamily. Then he seemed to snap back to reality. "I must go, I am needed elsewhere," Cas said, returning to what Dean considered "normal" for Cas.

Dean shook his head, even more confused as to what was going on. First, you were snuggled up with Sam, then dancing with Castiel. He decided to check in with Rowena to see if she knew anything more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While Dean was in the library trying to figure things out, you were sitting on the edge of your bed trying to do the same thing. A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Your visitor was literally the last person you ever expected to see. Crowley had on an apron, covered in flour and bits of what looked like cake batter stuck to it.

"Good evening, Love," he bowed and took your hand in his. "I was wondering if you would consider, um, helping me with a small problem. You see, someone told me you were a fan of cheesecakes, and I ran into some difficulty trying to make you one. Might I request the honor of your assistance in the kitchen, so you can show me the proper....technique?" he suggested.

It took every ounce of self-control you had not to break out into laughter or tears. The absurd events of the last two days were leading you to believe the witch put an insanity curse on you. Quickly regaining your composure, you told Crowley that you would meet him in the kitchen in about 10 minutes. "Until then, my darling," he remarked softly, placing a lingering kiss on your cheek.

As soon as the door was closed, you sank down on the edge of the bed again. "This is too weird," you whispered to yourself. "Now Crowley wants to spend time with me?? This is some curse I've got on me. I think it's making me lose my mind," you mused.

When you opened your door, you heard a heated argument occurring in the kitchen between Sam, Cas and Crowley. You walked slowly to the kitchen, catching bits and pieces of the harsh words spoken between the men. Each one claimed to love you more than the other two, and promised to fight anyone who dared try and take you away.  Insults were traded and fists were raised, ready to do battle.

You turned around and were headed back to your room when you ran smack into Dean. "Well, Princess, looks like you hit the jackpot in there," he snarled, his arms folded across his chest.

"I--" was all you could say.

"Congratulations, you've got every woman's fantasy going on in that kitchen. Three men fighting for her affections," he taunted.

"Not every woman, Dean. Not me," you choked out as you pushed away from him, tears streaming down your face.

Dammit! How did I end up doing and saying the exact opposite of what I wanted? Dean thought. I need to go talk to Rowena, see if she knows anything else about this curse, he decided. First things first, though, he was going to put a stop to what was happening in the kitchen.

"ENOUGH!" he thundered. Sam, Castiel and Crowley all turned to look at Dean. "Everyone retreat to a neutral corner until we can figure out what's going on," he ordered.

Dean turned down the hallway to Rowena's room. As he came around the corner, you briefly met his gaze as you passed him in the hallway, only to quickly drop it again. Dean reached out his hand for yours. "Wait," he pleaded.

You shook your head at him, fresh tear tracks evident on your cheeks. "No, Dean. I don't want to talk to you right now. I never meant for any of this to happen. I think it's best if I remove myself from the equation for the time being. At least until Rowena can figure out how to reverse the spell," you finished. With that, you closed and locked your bedroom door.

Dean's heart ached to hear the pain in your voice and to see your tear-stained face. He knocked on Rowena's door and entered her room when she granted him access. "What can I do fer ye, Dean?" she asked in her lilting accent.

He mentioned how he had just left the kitchen, where Sam, Cas and her beloved son were fighting over you. "They've all been paying extra attention to her, being all romantic and stuff. What's weird, is that they've never even shown any kind of interest in her before," Dean explained.

"Sam's reading with her and snuggling on the couch, Cas is taking her out for a picnic and to pick wildflowers." He turned to Rowena, pointed his finger at her and narrowed his eyes. "Your son is wearing an apron, asking her to teach him how to bake a damn cheesecake," he huffed. "I swear, it's as if that witch cast a--" he broke off.

"A love spell?" Rowena asked. "Tha's exactly what it was," she confirmed.

"Can you reverse it?" Dean asked.

"I can, but.....," she started.

"But what?" Dean asked.

"It's no' real love that Samuel, Castiel and Fergus have for her. When they realize that fact, it's bound to be a bit awkward at first. They may act a little distant towards her, and she will think she’s done something wrong to make them pull away. She'll believe that the friendship she has with each of them has been ruined, that it's over. It could break her kind and generous heart," Rowena explained.

Dean dropped his gaze to the floor. He knew Rowena was right, and that you would probably isolate yourself in an attempt to maintain order in the bunker.

"Of course, once the right man declares his feelings for the wee lassie, her heart will mend. In time, anyway. Then Samuel, Castiel and Fergus won't feel like they have to stay away from her," she continued.

Dean noticed how she had suddenly focused her attention on him and scoffed. "Whoa, do you mean me? That I should declare my feelings for her? I'm not--"

"Aren't ye?" Rowena asked softly. "Search your heart, Dean. Ye've been in love with her for a while now, haven't ye? Seeing her together with another man, let alone three? Doing the type of romantic things that ye've thought abou' doin' with her? I'd say it's enough to make any normal man just a wee bit jealous. I can only imagine what it's doin' to ye," she remarked.

"Pfft," was the best response he could muster for the moment. "Start working on that spell reversal. I need to head into town for some supplies," Dean replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Rowena announced that she had prepared the antidote for the witch's love spell. Turns out, it was your tea that had triggered the exaggerated feelings of love. You touched the tea blend with your fingers to add it to the water in the teakettle. Then, the effects of the spell were transferred to whomever drank the tea.

Each man drank the concoction and waited for its effects to kick in, which didn't take long once the antidote was consumed. As predicted, there were profuse apologies to you from all three men. They all assured you that though they didn't think of you romantically, they still loved you in their own way. You smiled and assured them that you were fine, no harm done, that you knew that the right someone was still out there.

But behind your closed bedroom door, it was a different story. At night, you laid awake, staring at the ceiling. You understood that their attention to you was only because of the spell.

You remembered how Sam, Castiel and Crowley all looked at you. You tried not to think about how it would feel to have Dean look at you just once the way they did. Still, you knew that the chances of Dean feeling that way about you for real were slim to none. Especially after everything he said while the others were under the spell.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Today marked a full week since you'd gone into hiding, emerging only for little more than a shower and something to eat. You took most of your meals in your room, instead of eating at the table with everyone else. Dean was growing increasingly worried about you, and was determined to get you to break out of your sanctuary.

He knocked at your door relentlessly, trying to coax you out with offers of a movie marathon with your favorite snacks. He even suggested a midnight stargazing outing in the Impala. However, nothing seemed to be working.

At one point you heard, "You can't ignore me forever, sweetheart," he muttered against your door. Oh yeah? You thought defiantly. Watch me.

Halfway through week two of your self-imposed exile, you needed a new book to read. You carefully unlocked and opened your bedroom door, then looked down the hall. No one was in sight in either direction, so you tiptoed out of your room and into the library. You chose a nice, thick book, then rushed back to your room before anyone could see you. Once back inside your room, you quickly closed and re-locked the door, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

"Hey, sweetheart," a voice rumbled from someone sitting in the chair in the corner.

The heavy book dropped from your hands and nearly fell on your toes. You gasped in surprise and clutched at your hammering heart. "What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?!? Not to do it, if I recall," you retorted.

"Didn't really leave me much choice, though, did you? I wasn't sure if you ever wanted to see me again, but I wanted to see you. Been hiding in here for almost two weeks now," Dean remarked softly.

"I've had my reasons, Dean. This whole curse thing has left me more confused than ever. Sam, Cas and even Crowley never thought of me romantically until that spell came along. And you? You've made your feelings clear about the whole situation at every turn.

"So," you continued. "On the one hand, it takes a 'love spell' for guys like Sam, Cas and Crowley to want to be with someone like me. On the other hand, when I am with someone like them, you don't like it and make nasty remarks about the whole thing. Please tell me, Dean, where's the incentive to make me want to be anywhere but in my room by myself? Hmm?" you challenged.

Dean rose from the chair in the corner and strode over to the door where you were still standing. He stood close enough for you to detect his woodsy cologne, mixed with the mint of his mouthwash. He reached up and tenderly tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I understand how you feel. But, before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you," he said softly. The hand that had so recently fixed your hair slid around to the back of your head. It pulled you closer until your lips meshed with Dean's in a hungry, demanding kiss.

Dean swallowed the soft moan of pleasure that escaped your lips. His free arm snaked around your waist to bring you flush against his body. His kisses roamed everywhere, trying to leave no territory untouched. Your cheeks, your neck, collarbone and more was all fair game for Dean. "So beautiful," he murmured against your shoulder.

"Dean," you whispered. You reached up to cup Dean's face with your hands, stroking his cheek with your thumbs. You tangled your fingers into his spiky hair and gently tugged on it, earning a groan of appreciation.

Dean's hands roamed up and down your back, gripping and releasing the fabric of your shirt. When the need for air became too great, the kissing was broken, leaving you and Dean each trying to catch your breath. You put your foreheads together as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

Dean took your hands and guided you to sit next to him on the edge of your bed. "Baby, I'm so sorry for what I said to you before when that whole thing with the spell was going on. I guess it was because I was jealous of Sam, Cas and even Crowley," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, my love. There wasn't anything to be jealous of. It was kind of weird, all of a sudden having those guys chasing after me," you giggled. You brought your hand down to cup his cheek, running your thumb over his stubbled jawline. "It's always been you that I've been in love with for so long. But, I thought you'd only ever see me as a fellow hunter, or at most, a best friend. Never as the woman who loves you," you replied softly.

"Darlin', what I see before me is a woman who lights up a room whenever she walks into it. A woman with a kind and generous heart that tends to put the needs of others before her own. I see a woman with an exceptional sense of humor, who's smart and sexy as hell. And just as she has chosen me, I choose her. Every time," he finished.

"I love you, Dean," you said softly.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he replied as he leaned in to recapture your lips in a soft, sweet kiss.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @supernatural-jackles @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @magssteenkamp @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @hobby27 @jay-and-dean @waywardbaby

[beyondcanon]

fanfic: a family wedding

wow. what a wild ride. how much i missed writing and didn’t even realize.

wynonna earp/wayhaught. Waverly and Nicole’s wedding turns everyone into a bridezilla. Complete. Read on AO3.

Read Chapter One

ii.

Jeremy is wearing all black, with an earpiece and clippings, fussing over a gigantic ice swan being carried by four large men/demons.

The statue wobbles and he squirms. "Careful!"

"You are not going to ruin this marriage, people! C'mon!"

The same old, beat-up blue pickup truck arrives, boxes and more boxes perched on top. Wynonna opens the door, leather jacket glistening in the cold autumn sun.  The wind blows her hair like a L'oreal ad and she takes off her sunglasses in slow motion.

"Nothing can go wrong with this amount of booze, Jeremy." She smiles, licking her upper lip and tapping the pickup's ceiling three times. "Trust me."

"I'll believe it when I see it and complete a thorough inventory."

Wynonna rolls her eyes, but there's no bite to it, much like getting used to your family's quirks as a destiny. She sips from her flask. "As long as I get quality control duty."

-

The bright sun wakes Nicole, stretching over her skin. She grunts and turns to find the other side of the bed... empty? Cold?

"Waverly?" Eyes darting open and reaching for her gun under her bed, she sits up in a rush.

Her soon-to-be-wife is sitting on the armchair, painting her toenails. The sun creates a halo across her hair; she smiles, the corner of her eyes crinkling. "Morning, baby."

Nicole lets out a shaky breath and hides her gun again. "Sorry, I-" She scoots closer to the edge of the bed. "I got scared for a moment."

Waverly offers her a soft, soft look. The soft pink robe reaches the floor as she walks the few steps between them. "I woke at the crack of dawn and couldn't sleep, thinking about marrying my best girl."

Hands on Waverly's hips, Nicole pulls her closer to stand between her legs. "Excited?"

"I painted my nails and did my eyebrows and my hair was such a mess," Waverly straddles Nicole's lap, "I had to do something about it, and then I re-wrote my vows twice, first in my head and then on a piece of paper, which I hid it from your curious eyes." She chuckles when Nicole hides her face in the crook of her neck and takes a deep breath.

"And here I was, thinking someone would wake up with a hangover."

"Never." Waverly huffs, squeezing Nicole's shoulders. "Then I started thinking about you, pretty face and great butt, but I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. You looked so cute and I want to marry you already," she whines.

Nicole pulls back and takes a long moment to look at Waverly's face, hand placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What are you thinking?" Waverly tries to read her expression and fails. "Are you having second thoughts?" Her eyes widen and Nicole blinks three times. The words stalling falling from her mouth in quick succession, barely a shred of a second to think, "Because that's totally normal for the bride or groom to get really nervous with such a big decision, and we decided to spend the night together so there's no one to calm you down besides me, which isn't going to help much, because I'm the girl that got you stuck here with a big responsibility and a ring on your hand and I-"

She's so cute. Nicole smiles and kisses her, gentle and sweet, one hand cupping Waverly's cheek. It does get her to stop babbling.

"I love you." She joins their foreheads and Waverly takes a deep breath, still a pout on her lower lip. She licks and kisses the pout away, scratching the back of Waverly's neck until she lets out the little sigh Nicole knows so well. "Wherever you go, I go. This is it, baby. You and me."

A loud knock startles them both. "Are you decent?"

Nicole grunts and throws her body back on the bed.

"And Wynonna." Waverly laughs. "Come in!"

Bottle in hand and reeking of whiskey, Wynonna stumbles in.

Nicole raises an eyebrow. "It's 10 am."

Wynonna waves and scoff. "I have something important to say." She stops in the middle of the room and looks at Waverly and Nicole.

"I don't want you to move out." She takes a deep breath. "I like having both of you around. It's... better. Safer. We haven't talked about it, but I know you're probably planning to move to Nicole's-"

"Hey," Waverly answers like she's trying not to scare a kitten. She gets up and gets closer to her sister. "You're not losing me."

"Us." Nicole sits up on the bed.

Wynonna takes a gulp and winces. "We can fix the house, get you more room, better locks, soundproof the entire place, anything you want."

"Wynonna," Waverly whispers, a hand on her sister's arm and eyes watering.

"We built something good, baby girl." Wynonna sighs. "All of us. Together."

Nicole looks at Waverly and they have an entire conversation between them.

She gets up to stand in front of Wynonna. "We'll always fight by your side." She grabs the bottle as Wynonna tries to take another sip. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

Wynonna takes the bottle back and shrugs. "Whatever. Just... think about it. It's not like I'm charging you rent or anything."

Waverly goes in for a hug, but Wynona scurries away without closing the door.

"That was..." Nicole breathes out. "Unexpected."

Wynonna peaks her head on the door. "I'm dealing with a lot of shit." She drinks from her bottle and leaves again.

-

The kitchen is a mess of pans, pots, and seasonings.

Rachel points at the table. "I've made you breakfast. Doc said you both need a full stomach to start the day." She shrugs like she doesn't even care. "He also said he expects you for Best Cowboy duties in 30min."

Waverly claps and does a little jump. "What are we having?"

"Vegan chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled tofu, tea, and a green smoothie for you." She places on the table a procession of dishes. "Real eggs with bacon, a cappuccino, and french toast for Nicole because she doesn't need to suffer the indignity of eating vegan on her wedding day."

They take a seat. "It looks amazing." Nicole smiles. "Thank you, Rachel."

"Yeah." Rachel grunts, taking powdered sugar and finishing the pancakes. "I figured I was your best shot at eating something edible."

It tastes every bit as good as it looks.

-

Nicole pulls Waverly by the waist until they are flush against one another. "Good luck with the best ladies." She steals a kiss, and then another.

"Good luck with the Best Cowboy." Waverly smiles, coy, messing with the lapel of Nicole's jacket. "Don't do anything too crazy."

Nicole could kiss the daylights out of her. "Can't wait to see you in a wedding dress."

"Oh, you're going to love it." Waverly's voice drops two octaves too low and Nicole shivers. "Later, gator." She pushes Nicole out the door and enters the house giggling.

Nicole looks around the front yard filled with people coming and going. Doc arrives from a distance.

She jumps when Mercedes screeches, further terrorizing the catering crew. "Unacceptable! Don't you people know how to fold a cloth napkin properly?"

She demonstrates three times and makes them prepare and place each one to perfection. A young boy tires and folds the wrong way.

Mercedes hisses. "I will kill you and your whole family."

The boy gets it right the second time.

Nicole mouths an apologetic "She doesn't mean it," even though she knows Mercedes does very much mean it.

Doc arrives, thankfully. "Let me take you away from the madness, Sheriff." He opens Charlene's door for Nicole.

"Not a moment too soon." Nicole jumps in.

-

Nedley, clean-shaven and dressed in a handsome wool suit, is waiting for them at Shorty's. "I took the liberty of getting the first round started." He points to the drinks on the counter.

"You know how to please a man," Doc sighs and takes his hat off, downing his whiskey in one gulp.

If that man isn't Wynonna's soulmate, no one is.

"How are you feeling?" Nedley helps Nicole out of her coat. "Getting the jitters?"

"Not really." Nicole walks with him towards the booze. "I wish the wedding started already. I can't wait."

"Young love." Nedley gives her a knowing smile. "Just a couple more hours, darling."

Nicole smiles back and grabs her drink.

-

The phone rings across the room.

Nicole rushes to it. "Is everything okay?"

"No demon, Sheriff." Wynonna scoffs. "With Peacemaker and Rosita, we're more than covered. Your girl, however, is having a little freak-out."

Waverly can be heard in the background. "I am perfectly reasonable!"

"Could you tell your woman you still want to marry her?"

Nicole bites back a smile. "Sure."

A moment later: "Hi, sweetie."

"I heard my best girl is having a little freakout."

"Am not."

Nicole can hear the adorable pout in her voice. "I can't wait to be married to your beautiful face, you know." She hums. "Watching you walk down the aisle. Having that ring on your finger."

Waverly sniffs. "Really?"

She overhears Wynonna's fake puking and Waverly's whispered "stop it".

"Mhmm. Celebrating with our family. Carrying you inside the bedroom and having my way with my wife."

Waverly sighs. "It feels so good when you say that."

"Wife. Partner. Love of my life." Nicole's voice is pure honey. "My wife, and no one else's."

Waverly purrs. "I can't wait, too. I bet you look so sharp."

Nicole smiles because she does: brown pants and vest, crisp white shirt, hair down in delicate waves. "I bet you look drop-dead gorgeous."

"Can we get married already?"

"Just one more hour, baby."

-

No trace of chaos and confusion when Nicole arrives:

Decoration in place, flowers everywhere, ginormous ice swan, blue sky smiling at her.

Jeremy greets them in a dark grey suit, earpiece still in place. "Welcome to your wedding, Nicole."

Arms locked with Doc, she smiles and allows Jeremy to lead them.

The guests stand up — the whole town, in their best Sunday attire.

Doc's firm hand over hers keeps hers from trembling. "One foot in front of the other. That's all there is to it."

The music begins: it’s Ella and Louis' Tenderly.

They walk slow and sure, locking eyes with the crowd as they pass.

The altar they made themselves over two laborious weeks looks perfect.

Nicole takes her place, Doc right behind her.

Heart thumping, mouth dry, she has no idea how much time passes before the music changes to Cheek to Cheek.

Waverly and Wynonna appear, arm in arm.

Waverly waves with a nervous smile, and they lock eyes. This is it.

Yes, Louis, her heart beats so she can hardly speak.

Her dress is so pretty. She's everything Nicole has ever dreamed of.

She dries a stubborn tear or two, breath caught.

Wynonna clears her throat. "Make an honest woman out of my sister, will you?" They take their time in their hug; this time it's not awkward. "I will skin you alive if you do anything to her and I will enjoy it."

"Noted." Nicole chuckles, squeezing Wynonna one last time before stepping back.

She offers a hand to Waverly, who takes it to climb the one step to stand in front of Nicole. "Gorgeous," she mouthes.

Waverly's brown eyes sparkle. "You're here."

She takes Waverly's hands. "I am."

Nedley begins his speech. He talks about union, love, and dedication. All Nicole sees is how Waverly's hair catches the light, the smell of lavender and honey, and the cool autumn breeze against her skin.

-

The silence falls thick, the air pregnant with expectation.

"Nicole, you turned me inside out since I first met you. Thank God Shorty didn't fix that tap." She gives a bright smile, squeezing Nicole's hand. "I never thought someone so generous, so loving, could exist, and yet here you are, standing in front of me. You give me more than I could ever hope to get out of this life. You see me." She makes a long pause. "I love every part of you. I promise you everything I am."

"Waverly..." She takes a deep breath. "You have the most kind, beautiful soul I have ever met. I'd be crazy if I didn't fall for you, if I didn't fight for us. Every time you look at me, my heart flutters with how much love I carry for you in my whole body." Her voice trembles. "I'll follow you wherever you go. I'll choose you, again and again, and again, as long as you'll have me. You are my destiny."

She slides the ring on Waverly's finger with trembling hands.

Waverly draws a sharp breath before taking the other ring and doing the same.

Nedley declares them officially married.

"Finally," Nicole sighs. She pulls Waverly close, turning and bending her backward before giving her a deep kiss.

The crowd cheers, fireworks exploding in the sky.

-

The food looks amazing, but Nicole wouldn't know.

It's a flurry of movement: greeting guests, shaking hands, Jeremy taking hundreds of photos.

Wynonna grabs the microphone and announces: "Let's get this party started!"

Rachel presses play and I Put a Spell on You comes on.

With a mischievous look, Waverly rips her dress to reveal a cooler, shorter dress underneath.

Nicole takes off her vest, throws it on Wynonna's face, and opens three buttons on her white shirt.

Waverly takes a few steps back, hips moving to the beat and finger calling Nicole forward.

She pretends to be busy rolling her sleeves up, eyes never leaving her wife.

Shoulders moving, steps in quick succession, Nicole follows. They circle each other, smiles broad and malicious.

One, two, three slow steps. Nicole pulls Waverly flush against her.

Waverly pushes her away and turns, only to be pulled back again.

That perfect ass grinds against Nicole, hand reaching to the back of her neck, "Just wait until I'm alone with you," she whispers in Waverly's ear and feels her shiver.

She grabs the hand on her neck and uses it to turn Waverly back to her again, bodies moving together in perfect sync.

"When you do," Waverly tells her, hungry eyes and lips parted, "you'll find I'm not wearing any panties."

Nicole almost misses a step.

-

The party roars, booze flowing. Rachel's impeccable setlist keeps everyone high, horny, and in the mood.

Soaked in whiskey and sweat, Nicole dances with her wife. A hand holds her glass up, a firm palm spread on Waverly's lower back, hips moving together.

She's everything Nicole can see, smell, feel.

Foreheads together, Waverly mouths the music against Nicole's lips, breaths mingling. Arms around Nicole's neck, she leans back, exposing that sexy neck and a dirty smile.

Nicole wastes no time kissing her pulse point, teasing with her teeth. Waverly grabs her hair, pulling her closer, whimpering.

"Baby," Nicole soothes the skin with her tongue. "I need to have you."

She gets a breathy moan. "And how are we going to make that happen?"

In the middle of her haze, Nicole assesses their surroundings. The house is filled with people to the brim, the front yard is full of people making out...

-

The music thumps on, muffled in the background.

Waverly jumps on Nicole, who promptly grabs her thighs and pushes her against the barn door. "My wife," she groans over and over again between kisses, biting Waverly's lower lip.

Waverly wraps her legs even tighter around Nicole's waist, grabbing her hair. "Baby, please." They moan in each other's mouths when their tongues meet, and it's not enough. "I need you three fingers deep, right now."

Nicole grunts, throbbing with want, taking Waverly to a pile of hay and settling on top of her. "Anything my girl wants," she pulls the dress down to kiss those perfect breasts, "she will get it." Her mouth latches on a nipple, sucking and biting and pulling just how Waverly likes it.

Waverly whines, nails sinking on Nicole's back. She spreads her legs further, so willing, dress riding up her thighs.

"You're so wet." Nicole sighs, running a slow finger through Waverly's folds. "Is that all for me?"

Waverly gasps and pulls Nicole closer. "All for you, baby. Just for you."

Nicole can't deny her any longer, two fingers slipping inside.

"Yes yes yes-", Waverly moans, hips canting when Nicole picks up the pace. "More, baby, more."

Gasping for air, Nicole adds a third finger. "So good," she mumbles, "So tight." Her voice strained, watching Waverly biting her lower lip in pure bliss.

She gets faster, rougher, taking it almost all out before thrusting inside again, feeling her wife pulsing around her fingers.

"You fuck me so good, baby," Waverly gasps, holding on to Nicole's shirt for dear life. "Only you," she moans, again and again.

"All mine." Nicole curls her fingers, hard kisses on Waverly's neck, as her wife gets even tighter, wetter, more desperate.

Waves comes with a sharp cry, tears falling, back arching.

Nicole stays inside her, kissing her earlobe softly as she whimpers.

"So good." Waverly kisses her lazy and slow, whimpering when Nicole takes her fingers away. "So good." She sighs, taking Nicole's hands and dutifully licking her fingers.

Nicole groans when Waverly starts sucking. "Don't make me fuck you again."

Waverly smiles. "Counting on that, baby."

Nicole leans in for another kiss.

-

Wynonna barges into the barn with a big, big smile. "Told you so!"

Waverly and Nicole scramble to cover themselves, behind some wooden boxes.

"Couldn't get past midnight, could you lovebirds?" She wiggles her eyebrows before leaving. "Pay up, losers!"

"Man, couldn't they wait another hour?" She hears Rosita. "I was counting on the money."

"Tell me about it. Could have been one hour earlier." Is that Doc? "Take it."

Nicole rolls her eyes, a grin on the corner of her mouth.

Waverly bumps shoulders with Nicole. "That's the life you chose." She starts getting dressed.

Nicole watches, everything else fading to the background. "It's the life I chose," she agrees, admiring the lean back of her wife and how her tousled hair moves.

Waverly reads her eyes and giggles, offering her hand. "C'mon, there's a whole party waiting for us."

Nicole closes the buttons on her shirt and lets Waverly pull her up.

She cups her wife's face for a long moment, basking in how she leans into the touch and closes her eyes.

Waverly wraps her arms around her, their breaths in sync.

[catharrington]

@harringroveweekoflove Day 1: Bed sharing

Fighting in the summer breeze.

The job wasn’t done. There was cleaning up they had to do after the battle with the mind flayer. But it isn’t always an easy job picking up the scraps. Especially if the scraps fight back. Steve and Billy can fight as hard as they want but getting outnumbered will win every time.

(3.3 k words. Simple fic of hurt/comfort. Slight blood and gore. Steve does get hurt badly. Mostly boys talking about their feelings and mutual pining.)

***

“God, stop touching it!” Steve howled with pain, his voice cracking in a way it hadn’t since he was 12, as he was carried into the motel room.

Hopper just rolled his eyes as he followed into the bedroom. “You aren’t going to die, kid!” He growled, closing the door behind them. El watched with wide worried eyes as Steve was lead over to the mattress and laid down, whimpering the whole time. Billy was holding onto his arm and helping him down into the bed, his own body not unscathed.

They had just got away from a pack of demo dogs still loose and running in the woods around Hawkins. El and Hopper were sure they would be destroyed by the portal closing but they just kept showing up like roaches when the lights turn off. There must be something still open around Hawkins that had to be cleaned up. And Billy, even though he had already proven himself as a friend by being a human shield against the mind flayer, volunteered first for the portal closing hunt.

Steve was more drafted by Hopper and the kids. You don’t get much room to not be a hero when you’ve fought these things off with a nail covered baseball bat before.

They had tracked a sighting of a starved looking feral dog to an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods. All the evidence pointed to three, maybe two, demo dogs holding up and a small portal letting them come though for hunting, but when they got there it was more like ten. They were almost over run by the numbers. Hopper did his best with his police pistol, and El took care of most, but Billy and Steve caught the brunt of the surprise.

“Don’t talk down to him!” Billy hissed as he laid Steve down sloppily on the bed, “it’s your damn fault he got hurt!”

“Watch it!” Hopper warned. “We did the best with the intel that we had! No one saw that shit coming- even El didn’t see them!”

Billy had one leg crossed over the bed and the other leg dangling down to touch the floor. He was leaned over Steve in a protective hunch that he wasn’t even aware he was doing. “You should have gotten some fucking better intel then, Hop.” Billy pushed his curly hair back from his forehead, it turned red with blood.

Interrupting the tense showdown, Steve moaned loudly as he settled into the bed. His wounded arm laid limp next to him while his left arm griped white knuckled into the remains of his sweater ripped all the way down to his stomach.

El was quietly watching from the sidelines, her eyes going to the people talking for only a moment but mostly staying locked on Steve’s bloodied wound. He had 4 huge gashes dragged over his shoulder and down his pectoral, already bruised black and blue and still bleeding.

With Steve’s bat and Billy’s axe they had stayed to the sides of the formation to catch any straggler or finish off what Hoppers gun didn’t, but that was a perfect target for a group of demo dogs sneaking out of the woods. Steve fought off most of them, skillful with his bat, and nimble in his dodging- but as he crushed one into the ground another jumped on his back and dragged those demonic claws from his chest to his shoulder.

The scream he made is something the group won’t be getting out of their head for a while.

“We did the best we could,” El spoke softly.

Hopper continued to glare daggers into Billy but focused on taking out 2 water bottles from the motels mini fridge. Collecting towels from the bathroom, he placed some under Steve’s shoulder and whispered something heroic to the boy before he flushed out the wound.

Dumping the cold water right into the flayed flesh made Steve howl. He bent his head back into the pillow and let his voice carry until it simply cracked again into a whimpering cry. His face was covered in sweat, blood and something else much darker. His shaggy hair, equally as sweaty, clung to where ever it could catch. The famous volume was mostly lost in its wetness and that broke Billy’s heart.

He brushed a strand from Steve’s ghostly pale face in an attempt to be comforting.

When Hopper dumped the second bottle Steve cried again but only what his used throat could muster. Billy watched in horror as Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and his head fell limply onto the pillow.

“Hop,” Billy gasped, he held onto Steve’s cheek and examined the boys pale face.

“Chill out, kid, he’s just unconscious.” Hopper finished with the second bottle then threw them and the stained towels into a trash can. He took more towels and laid them softly over Steve’s shoulder. The motel owner isn’t going to be happy she’s out of four nice cotton towels but it made Billy happy to see the wound finally covered in something.

Hopper took Steve’s left hand and applied it as pressure to the wound. The room became way too quiet without Steve being awake groaning in pain. The rest of the group took a breath of silence between themselves before Hopper finally moved.

“You have to stay here, watch him! We will be back soon!” He scooped up his sheriffs hat and made for the door, El loyal on his heels.

“We need to go to a hospital now,” Billy sputtered out. “These cuts need stitches- I can tell!”

“Absolutely no hospitals. They can’t be trusted. And before anything else, we have to clean up the shit show of dead dogs all over that cabin so El can close that portal for good.” Hopper rested his hat on his head and sighed. “We gotta stop these bastards or this fight will be for nothing. Harrington is tough. He will last-,”

“That’s really not something you get to decide.” Billy stood up from the bed and marched to the door. He had gotten his share of black blood on his clothing and a few scratches here and there. Most notability across his forearm one demo dog's back leg caught him and left a nasty gash, but Billy hadn't started to feel it yet. “You can’t just expect him to go all these damn rounds for no one to be in his corner. You can’t just-“

Billy’s rant was cut off before it started by a sharp intake of breath. Steve’s soft hair shook as he came awake. “Billy,” he muttered out, fluttering his eyes as he came to terms with the burning irons on his shoulder once again. “...Billy?”

“Yeah, easy Stevie, right here,” Billy rushed back to his side, leaned over the bed a little less close than before, but he wanted to be so much closer.

Hopper took this as his time to leave. “Don’t let him out of your sight. We‘ll be only a minute!” And the door was slammed behind the two.

Billy didn’t have a moment to grumble any discourse before his attention was taken again by the injured boy.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve involuntarily flexed his good hand and shoulders as he tried to sit up only making him hurt more, “Mother fucking Mary!”

“Stop,” Billy pressed his open palm down into Steve’s chest. “Do not get up, it’s gonna hurt a Hell lot more if you keep moving.” From the touch he could feel the boy’s breaths quicken under his ribs, shallow and hard. “Just take it easy, Steve.”

Steve said nothing, but did as he was told.

Working intently on steadying out his breaths, he took a look around the room to try and steady his mind. The motel was familiar, the group used it to ready up before heading into the woods to find the abandoned house, but the spaces between that was a blur. All purple and blue like a bruised spot that wouldn’t stop hurting as Steve tried to remember it.

Billy had taken his hand back from Steve’s chest, carefully keeping his distance. He moved to the very edge of the bed hunched over with his messy blond hair covering as much of his face as he could. The streaks of blood in his hair made it seem a darker shade than it was.

Out of the corner of his eyes Steve watched Billy, half to have something to focus on, and half because he hasn’t seen this boy so far gone since he was drugged unconscious on Byers’ floor. But that time his eyes were not blown wide open. Looking at him now, Billy had a face like he was sitting in the middle of a mine field and couldn’t get out.

“Is that your blood... or mine?” Steve rasped out so weak it was easy to miss. But Billy was listening for it.

“You know, I don’t know.” He balled his hands into the sheets. “I think it’s yours. I’m not really bad off. Don’t think.” Billy knew he was distracted as he replied but couldn’t help it under Steve’s half lidded stare. The gash on Billy’s arm wasn’t bleeding or painful and the darkened blood looked like demo dog guts to him.

Steve hummed and it was pretty. “My blood,” he started, “I’m sorry I-,”

“Don’t you dare!” Billy turned his eyes sharply and dug a glare into Steve. “Nothing tonight was your damn fault.”

Steve kept watching him, kept him trained with those big brown eyes. “I was gonna say, jerk, that I’m sorry you had to actually fight while I was down...,” Steve trailed off to let out a groan, “instead of just getting creamed in the end like last time.” He laughed but it was painful sounding.

“Last time?” Billy was astounded that with his shoulder ripped out and losing so much blood Steve still had the gull to be a bratty little shit. He even had the nerve to let out a small smile. “Last time I single-handedly fought back a three story tall monster made of rat AND people bones? You mean that last time?” Billy enjoyed watching that little smile on Steve getting bigger.

“Yeah, single handed, but I do remember you getting creamed?” Steve’s words were so light and easy. They were a warm breeze in the summer time, kicking up flowers, and Billy could easily be in that breeze forever without wanting to leave.

Billy laughed. “Saving El, saving you too, by getting impaled... that’s not getting creamed, pretty boy.” Running his hand over his chest Billy could feel the scar from the mind flayer right there. Always a reminder of how he fought. And a badge that said he would do it again in a heart beat. 

“Hey maybe you’ll get a wicked scar then I can’t call you pretty boy anymore.” Billy said it as a joke but Steve’s smile fell into something else, even something sadder maybe.

Steve clutched the towels over his shoulder with his hand Hopper was kind enough to place over it. His other arm, the one that was holding on with just the bones of his shoulder and not so much the flesh, he only flexed those fingers just to make sure they still worked. But he kept his arm laying down like Billy ordered him to.

Wetting his lips and fixing the other boy with another locking stare, he whispered. “Hum. I don’t know if I would want that. Not really the scar type.”

“Not the type? But you know scars get all the chicks? You’ll be a magnet. I’ll have to use that bat to fend them off.” Billy laughed at his own joke. He lifted his hands and made a goofy swinging motion. Steve gave him a scoffing laugh and Billy felt comfortable enough to laugh with him. Dropping his hands Billy inched a little more towards Steve, trying to get more of that warm breeze on his face.

Steve shook his head in a no motion very lightly so he didn’t hurt himself. It made his wet hair fan out over the pillow. “First of all, don’t use my bat.” Billy raised his eye brows. “Second, don’t really care... about being a chick magnet.”

Billy wanted to ask so many questions. He might not be the King any more but Steve still has game, he still should want to add notches to his bed post. And now that he was out of school his game should be even better. But Billy didn’t ask.

In almost a defensive mode, Billy kept his head down and chewed his inner cheek like his thoughts were getting chewed over inside of his head. But he didn’t back away from how he was leaning towards the injured boy.

Thankfully, Steve’s breathing was as normal as one could get. He only moaned a few times between breaths. Billy had the painful realization that with the scratches across his upper chest it likely hurt to have the rising and falling motion. It made Billy angry that Hopper was taking so long to come back.

“Are you tired?” Steve’s summer breeze knocked Billy out of his thoughts. “You can...,” Steve swallowed hard, shifted a little as he spoke, “You can lay down. If you are tired.”

Billy watched Steve with a hesitant eye. Yeah- his body was screaming to lay down. Yeah- he was very, very tired from fighting off a hoard of demo dogs and then carrying Steve’s limp body to this motel. Shivers ghosted up his spine as he considered it, laying down in the same bed as Steve Harrington, but he was too tired to really pay attention to the reminder of self loathing.

“You don’t care?” He asked for permission.

“It’s a big enough bed,” Steve smiled.

Billy couldn’t help but groan as he let himself lean back into the mattress. His muscles were more tired than he thought. Adrenaline and maybe shock was to thank for that. Billy laid his head down on the pillow right next to Steve’s pillow. However, he kept his eyes trained on the ceiling.

There was a softness in the air, the rhythm of steady breathing slowly syncing up together, so close but looking away. Warmth from that closeness felt like laying in the summer sun.

Steve wanted to turn his head with every fiber of his being but he was scared it might hurt. He did it anyway, turning with a light moan to look at Billy’s direction. The others long blonde hair dark with blood crunched up against the pillow and his chiseled jaw muscles taught under tanned skin was worth all the pain to look at it. Even with his eyes drilling holes into the ceiling, he was an Adonis.

Billy kept his breathing quiet and tried not to make a big deal about laying in a shitty motel bed touching his shoulder against Steve’s shoulder. Sure it was a large bed but they were growing men, and Billy wasn’t going to punish himself with not at least trying to lay enough to the side where he could touch the other. Steve’s skin was flushed under Billy’s touch. In different circumstances Billy would have been flattered. Maybe even if it was different he would have let those questions about Steve and the notches in his bed post surface. But he couldn’t do that to him now.

Instead they just laid there and breathed.

“Hey,” Steve’s voice kept waking Billy from his thoughts. It was like the boy couldn’t keep quiet. Truthfully, he wanted something to distract him from the pain. 

Billy turned his head over on his pillow and their eyes met. Big and brown, red with tears, locked into Billy’s sharp and blue, almost glowing with a protectiveness he didn’t knew he had in himself. Those eyes meeting Steve’s felt like the best pain killer.

“Thank you.” Steve smiled.

“What the fuck for?” Billy played dumb.

“Everything,” then those big brown eyes rolled, it was positively endearing. “Saving my life twice. Being here. Being... you.”

Billy felt his breath catch. He had never once been under the lock of an emotion like this. Under the watch of those brown eyes Billy felt real, that his life mattered and his existence wasn’t a burden to anyone. Sure he sacrificed himself and was heralded as a hero, but this was on another level. And to top it off he was swimming in the high of those eyes, that melodious voice, and uniquely sweet summer winds.

“Yeah well...,” Billy’s voice caught for a second so he cleared his throat. He had to pull away from these feelings before his voice left completely. He looked back up to the ceiling and continued, “I’m just me.”

Steve laughed the same condescending laugh he pulled in the drive way of the Byers’ house. The laugh that was so superior and patronizing it would have made Billy crazy back when all he cared about was fighting the mighty King Steve. Back when he needed to pull Steve down to his level, to make him feel Billy’s pain with fists and blood. But now Billy could tell he hasn’t done the pulling, it was Steve who pulled him down. Within all this monster fighting and children helping, Steve showed him there were no levels.

Only here.

Only now.

Only saving those that he cares about. And Billy really did care about Steve. From the first moment he saw him in school he knew he cared so much for this brown haired, spoiled, smug, heroic, selfless hurricane named Steve Harrington.

To make it worse, that laugh was so beautiful.

“You are really a great guy, Billy. I want you to know that.” And just as the last word left Steve’s lips the door opened to a hurried Hopper and El.

The sheriff hesitated for a second as he noticed their closeness but Hopper was in a time crunch. He collected the few things they left around then a large duffel bag to put them in while he ordered everyone for the door. “No hospitals,” he reminded, finger pointed at Billy, “but I know someone from the department who can fix him up.”

Billy was already up moving to help Steve from the bed. Steve tried to stand by himself but he didn’t have the strength. Blood was soaking into the towel making it a strawberry pink, reminding them all that Steve has lost more than was safe by this point. More groans and slight whimpers filled the air as he stood up from the bed to attempt to walk.

El was tired herself, hanging back by the door to keep her jacket sleeve on her bloodied nose. Hopper joined her with full hands by the doorway and expectant eyes telling them to hurry.

Billy looked between them for a second before he lowered his head towards Steve’s ear to whisper, “Thanks for letting me rest up. I feel loads better.” Then in a quick movement Billy scooped the back of Steve’s knees with one arm and cradled the boy around his ribs with the other. On sure and strong legs Billy lifted him off the ground.

Steve’s one good arm kept holding the towels tightly to his shoulder while the other he could only let hang limply. Blood dripped down his pale skin and rolled off his finger tips. 

Another time, different circumstances, he would have loved to brace himself on Billy’s strong arms. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t think of anything. For once, his bratty comments caught in his throat. Instead Steve let his head drop and his forehead rest so very lightly against Billy’s neck.

“Don’t pass out on me, pretty boy.” Billy teased as he carried him out the door and started into the parking lot.

“Shut up, Hargrove.” Steve hissed but it held no venom.

Billy tucked Steve into the back seat of Hopper’s sheriff Jeep and stayed as close as he could while they rode back into town.

[unikornu]

Page 11, Exposure

-Good ol’ wild west, our next target, Boss. And judging by the map we are halfway through, dayum, i’m fucking impressed how much we did. Gage let out a long whistle while eyeballing her pipboy map, approaching together the next target, Dry Rock Gulch. The rocks around were massive and the scenery was very convincing into bringing some dusty cowboy memories. Even weather was fitting their excursion. 

*plop* Lucy was working her jaw on a pre-war gum drops, making Gage nerve vein show up on his face each time she blew a balloon. -Looking how they…*plop* could create pretty much anything, no wonder Nuka World is so tempting as a base *plop*. He took a chance while Lucy mouth was running and gave her pat on a back strong enough that the gum flew out of her mouth. 

- Khyy, what the hell Gage? She coughed repeatedly and shook a fist in his face. 

-You know it’s annoying as fuck and ruining your teeth with all that shit it still has, consider it me taking care of your sweet mouth and my calming therapy. He grinned and turned his head towards the park entrance. 

-----

The wind was pushing small clumps of dry grass around and nothing could be heard from inside the park other than rolling paper cups. At the gate they were welcomed by the warning sign “Danger, Bloodworms!”. Lucy stood behind the raider and eyeballed a sign. -Bloodworms… She froze in place and the blood slowly drained down from the face making her fairly pale, despite the warm rays that were hitting them. Gage was relaxed, even slightly happy. 

- Ha, just some stupid worms? That’s it? Nice change for once, ain’t it Boss? Hm? Gage turned around back to her after not receiving a single response. She was standing, looking at sign and then back at him spinning the knife in the shaking hands. - You okay Boss? Don’t ya tell me you are scared of some crawling dicks? He put a hand on her shoulder and shook it a bit to get at least a word out her. - Boss?

- I…i…just got hit by the sun too much and blacked out for….a second. Uhm…ye worms, let’s go. You first since you are so….eager to stomp them. She lied through her teeth and took a deep breath as they started moving. Going right behind, nervously scanning area around, she pulled out silently a dose of calmex in a hope of injecting just a little bit more but as Gage stopped abruptly walking into his back, she dropped it on the sandy ground and kicked it aside hiding her failed attempt.

-Shit, you sure you are okay? You act freaking weird since we entered. Raider turned around his head just enough to show his angry brow expression and moved back on. Lucy let out a silent sigh seeing her syringe getting lost in a sand as they walked away. 

The robot silhouette showed up behind a corner greeting them with a very stiff cowboy act “yiihaah-doggies-of-the-wild-west”. - Now, that’s interesting…there will be nice spare parts once i’m done kicking the shit out of you, sheriff. Raider cracked his fist preparing to give machine a solid hit through the glass but Lucy pulled his hand away. 

-Just wait a moment goddamit, information first, smash after, right? He hmphed but backed away lighting a cigarette, letting her do the all the wire work. Few sparks in the back and there it was, every information they needed served on a table. 

Sadly as the robot recording was going on about the worms and possible nest the her face was turning more and more into fear expression. Before Gage had a chance continue on his disturbed action as he strolled around with his smoke Lucy was already out of control kicking the robot down and swearing uncontrollably. The sound of metal smashing and thumping reached the ground under, waking up everything lying beneath their feet. They were coming and they were hungry. 

----

- Well, good fucking job Boss…He threw the smoke aside and stuffed a fresh magazine into the rifle. Lucy was feeling the nerves crawl upon her legs and clenching its boney fingers in her throat. She was shaky as fuck trying to defend herself from parasites jumping out of the sand but with each one joining them she was losing this battle, mostly with her mind. Gage noticed her unusual moves, lack of confidence, something was indeed off but there was no time to talk. One of the worms managed to reach under her metal armor with its round jaws filled with hundred needles, biting into her shoulder blade in the back. She dropped to her knees, a fearful scream leaving her mouth just pushed her right hand man to shove more bullets into the crawling filth of this park. As he fended off the last of them he ran right to her, pulled the worm out of her back, ripping some of skin in the process. 

-Argh! That was so slow and gentle ugh. She groaned.

-Fuck, what the hell was that? What the fuck is wrong with you?! He was angry, demanded answers but she couldn’t speak, panting heavily, as she looked up and saw the familiar shadow, standing in front of her. Same one, over and over again, shaping into the man that was giving her orders 200 years ago.

 -“So weak, Feit. I’m disappointed”. He kicked her in the face, sending into unconscious state.  

Now Gage was not just angry but also worried. He noticed some unusual curly smoky shapes slowly fading in the air but assumed they were just radiation doings.  He threw her over the shoulder and carried to nearest shack sighting deeply.  They went through so much already, much worse, be it gators or glowing mirelurks but he still felt like she was hiding something or refusing to open up all of her secrets. 

---

A spiky sensation in the wound woke her up. It took more than one stimpack to make the blood start clotting with this one. Gage threw the empty syringe to the side and awaited in silence for her to stand up. He was calm but certainly not in the cheerful mood. 

- I…think, i need to tell you something more about… She started but the big palm of his hand grabbed her by the throat and pushed to the wall, cutting her sentence. 

- You think?! I fucking thought we trust each other at this point and that includes no motherfucking shit behind the back. He released her shortly, seeing her eyes widening in fear, not wanting to cause any more pain by pushing her to the wall but he didn’t back off. - And what the fuck is that? Dozens of calmex? Are you a fucking addict of sort and missed it at our lovely introduction last time? He pulled a bunch of syringes from the pocket that he stumbled upon while patching her up and put them aside on the broken table. Lucy was ashamed and sad, it was coming to her at one point, deciding it wouldn’t be such a big deal not to tell him about her phobia since bloodworms were pretty rare occurrence. Not this time tho.

 - Okay, fine! I use calmex very often. Got addicted to it even before the war, helps me to calm down, focus on many matters and when phobia kicks in. I’m sorry but i felt like its not that important and would just make me look i dunno… weak, Christ. She slipped down the wall slowly down landing on her ass and hiding her face with a hand. She wasn’t sure if to tell him about the shadow that haunts her as it would sound completely ridiculous to the simple man like Gage.  

- You looked pretty weak back there trying to hide it. Boss, while beating eaten slowly alive. I ain’t like too some shiet out there, fuckin bugs for instance, you should have told me something. He pulled a chair and sat in front of her leaning a bit forward. 

- It ain’t like that Gage, it’s paralyzing me, bringing those flashes from back when….the court decided to teach me a lesson. He popped open a bottle of nuka cola and handed it to her. Whatever sugar it has left will help her to boost up some energy. 

- Go on Boss…nothin to be ashamed off, get it out.  Seeing his surprising willingness to listen she continued after taking a sip. 

- I thought i was doing something good, wanted to deliver justice at every corner. It didn’t matter to me that the man i was defending had a crime past. He found out the court was corrupted, cops too, making up their own evidences and shit. He got pulled up there and i did what felt right, defended him. The judge…didn’t like it…i ended up in a dirty cellar, pulled out of my office and tortured. Gage crouched by her side and put the hand on her shoulder. 

- You don’t have to continue if its too much, Boss. He slowly raised her head with his fingers to look at her. She swallowed hardly yet another sip of cola.

- They said i needed my righteous bitchy mouth cleaned and they brought them….leeches, fucking hell, the disgust and pain… even if time went ahead two hundred years, for me it still feels so recent. Lucy left out a deep sad sight and looked raider in the eye. 

 - After that my..boss found out that calmex would calm me and dull the unnecessary memories and feelings during my jobs, making me more efficient and..i got addicted, pretty badly. Sorry i didn’t tell you, it just felt…stupid to share something like this. She pulled herself up, worried about his response but started putting her gear together, herself too. He stopped her by putting the hands on her hips and turning her around to face him.

- Hey we are in this together, our plan, fight, hell even fears included i don’t care what crap else, we are partners Boss. If u have a problem, we will fucking solve it, okay? I’m sorry for what happened to you, i truly am, fuck, but just…stop hiding shit from me, no matter how dumb it might feel for ya. Alright? They nodded at each other as an agreement and to her surprise Gage handed her back all the calmex syringes. - You will still need them here, that ain’t something u solve in one evening Boss but…we will get to that okay? Now let’s exterminate that shithole.

They came back, dirty from dust and blood, with a few bites too to the Fizztop but again successful, in the favor of Operators. As the drugs cleared out of Lucy blood system she rushed to the bathroom, ignoring the Gage’s yelling behind, pushing the door after her but still leaving an open crack. She had a strong urge to just take off her armor and clothes and scratch everything down with water from her. To her luck there was already one filled bucket under the sink. She undressed to her underwear and without hesitation grabbed a handle and threw it all over herself throwing the empty bucket aside. Gage heard all those noises and curiously peeked through the door small opening. She looked so desperate, rushing and harshly rubbing hands against her skin. Even the black dust around her eyes looked more dramatic than ever, smeared downwards and to the sides. He respected the boss privacy more than ever but this time it was just an act of care, reason, maybe something more that made him cross the line of the door. 

-Hey, its over. Just, shit,  try to calm down Boss. She stopped and looked at him, a bit embarrassed but slightly angry of being disrupted like that in the state she was. 

- I am calming down, right now, can’t ya fucking see?! She groaned but realized shortly he deserved a better response -Shit…sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at ya, you helped me get through back there but…i would like to be alone now. She sighted, grabbed her dumped clothes from the floor and slowly walked past him but his lower arm grabbing her around the waist stopped her. The pile of clothes flew from her hands down as he turned her around and pulled towards him.  

- No…that ain’t an option, not before i get to see that face back to its usual shape. He said with a low voice, almost growling, putting his other hand under her cheek, brushing his fingers through her wet hair.

- What the fuck are y--  He leaned to kiss her before she could ask anything more or worse, punch him in the face. Lucy decided to leave those two options for another occasion as her mind drifted off from the anger and stress, surprised by the raider move but fully committed to these few seconds.

- Shit. As Gage pulled off he expected at least a slap but her hands instead landed around his neck. His confidence allowed him only to stand still, looking down at her as he wasn’t really a man of many words, especially in these kind of situations.

- I didn’t expect you have it in you. She bit her lower lip. -You can go on, if you feel like. She raised her eyebrow at him letting a slight smirk twitch on her face. 

- Fuck..i do feel like, Boss. He grabbed her by the ass and pushed up. She allowed it, wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him for another kiss, deeper and longer that round. Gage pushed her against the wall for better balance. 

They kept it for a while but raider didn’t cross the next line yet, didn’t want too and neither respect would allow him this time. He lowered her back as she pulled off. - You look better, Boss, especially with that blush of your face. He joked, trying to relax the atmosphere after, mostly for himself. 

- Thanks to you, i guess. She brushed her cheek and smiled, turning her head away.

They stood for a moment but Lucy decided to not ask any more questions, keeping these incidents as unprofessional as they can get and as much as he wanted to. Felt easier that way, not knowing what next day might bring.  

- You up for a small drink at patio before hitting the bed? She asked while gathering her clothes, scattered around the floor. 

- Actually, why the hell not, Boss. Business talk this time tho. He grinned and followed her to the patio. 

  The rest of the evening they indeed, drank and talked, sharing some more of their past and joking around. She felt good around him, safe even, slowly letting the thought of trust slip in and let her guard down at last. She drank down her last glass of booze before hitting him with last question. 

- Hey, can i sleep with you here, from now on? I still dislike open spaces like that but maybe with you around it will feel better. Gage paused, holding the glass at his lips putting it down slowly. 

- Do you mean fu...? 

- No, no. Just sleeping Gage, jezz. I will keep hands to myself too unless you feel like breaking some rules. She chuckled covering her smirk with a hand. 

- You better keep these hands away from my smokes. He joked back. - Okay, Boss, if you want to, i won’t kick you away, not on purpose at least.        

  It been hell of a time since they both slept with someone, sharing a pair of mattresses. Gage let her fall asleep first before he took down his eyepatch, wrapping it around his hand and turning his back to her. Lucy still kept her knife under the pillow but not for him this round.   

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @callofthemoon!

Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy the fic!

Read on AO3

*****

Lost and Found

"Focus on me, okay?"

A deep voice cuts through the haze of panic, like a light shining down into the well of despair his anxiety has thrown him into.

"Hey, you're safe."

Warmth. A hand on his. A warm chest under his palm, the heat filtered through a thin layer of soft fabric. He can feel a heartbeat, steady and strong.

"Breathe. Come on, breathe with me."

The voice—the male voice—might as well have asked Stiles to turn water to wine, breathing seemed just as impossible. He knows it isn't. He manages fine most days but most days he isn’t....

No. Don't think about it. Not yet. Not now. He's safe. The man said so and there's something about him that feels familiar, something about his soul that Stiles's magic recognizes.

He inhales on a gasp, exhales a shaky breath.

"That's it. That's good. Just like that. In again."

Stiles breathes in. He blinks and the world comes back into focus. He sees blue, brilliant blue eyes set in a handsome face framed by stubble. The man smiles, showing off a pair of bunny teeth that take nothing from how blindingly hot the stranger is.

"And out. Good."

Each breath shared with the stranger brings the rest of the world a little further back into focus. He's in a convenience store, the little shop three blocks from campus. It's night. Late night, if he remembers correctly, after midnight. He'd been studying at the library and he wanted midterm supplies before he went back to the dorms.

"Hi, there," the stranger says. He's wearing a blue police uniform. The name tag says 'Hale.' Stiles wonders if he's related to the Beacon Hills Hales. He wonders if this one is also a werewolf. "Back with us?"

Stiles nods. He pulls his hand away from the officer's chest with reluctance. He wants to curl into the safety of the stranger's arms, but most people would consider that rude, or at the very least, creepy and weird.

"S-Sorry." His voice comes out rough and reedy.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Hale says. He sits back on his heels, putting some distance between them. "Do you know where you are?"

He nods. "S-Store."

"Do you live nearby?"

Stiles nods again. He's feeling a little steadier. The uniform helps. It reminds him of his dad, even if it's the wrong color. He wants to call his dad but if he's not working then he's probably asleep and Stiles doesn't want to risk waking him if he is. He glances down at his turned-out pockets. He also doesn't have his phone to call with.

Stiles releases a long sigh and runs a hand through his hair. His chest hurts. The brief lack of oxygen is giving him a headache. "Yeah," he says. "At the dorms."

"Do you want a ride back? I can take your statement in the morning. We don't have to go through everything right now."

Officer Hale is being too nice. They need his statement now if they want to catch the robber. It'd be sharper in his memory, assuming he could remember anything past having a gun shoved in his face.

They probably don't intend to catch the guy. Most trivial robberies go unsolved. If Hale is a werewolf, maybe he's going to try tracking by scent? That seems unlikely.

Stiles slumps back against the ice cooler. His student ID was in his wallet, which he no longer has either, which means he can't get back to his room, assuming Scott would even wake up if Stiles knocked to let him in.

This really isn't his night.

"No, I need my wallet and keys to get in."

"Okay." Officer Hale nods easily. "Do you want to wait at the station? You can use the phone at my desk to call someone. I've been told our coffee isn't half bad."

He could call Lydia, she's probably awake, but he has one of Deaton's books in his backpack and three unfinished papers on his laptop that he hadn't backed up. He doesn't really want to wait and risk the robber selling off his stuff.

If he wants his belongings back, he's going to have to do it himself.

Stiles looks up at the shelves. There's not a whole lot to work with but he's the king of improvisation, though half the time he only does it to watch Deaton's face twitch.

Officer Hale offers him a hand up. His palm is warm. Stiles wants to hold on forever, but again, trying not to be a creeper. Hale doesn't pull away immediately either, so maybe it's not just him. He glances up at Hale and smiles when he catches Hale watching him.

Later. He can hit on the handsome police officer later.

Stiles reluctantly releases Hale's hand and peruses the shelves. He grabs a bottle of iced coffee, a container of salt, a lighter, and a travel map. He brings his haul to the counter where the clerk is watching him strangely.

"Want your money back?" The guy nods. "Then comp me this and let me borrow a knife."

Officer Hale raises a very judgmental eyebrow. "You have a license to practice magic?"

Stiles smirks at Hale. “I’m more than just a pretty face.” He holds out his hand. “Stiles Stilinski, Spark and Emissary to the McCall pack.”

Something hot and electric spreads from where Officer Hale’s hand grips his. “Derek Hale.” His eyes flash blue and Stiles bites his cheek to keep from drooling. “Beta of the Beacon Hills Pack.” Derek runs his eyes over Stiles and there’s a hunger in his gaze that lets Stiles know he’s not the only one with some instant attraction going on. “I’ve heard of you.”

Stiles smiles and looks at Derek through lowered lashes. “All good things, I hope?”

The clerk scans everything in, presses a few buttons, then pushes it back with a pointed cough.

“Right. Knife?”

Derek pulls a folded blade from his pocket and hands it to Stiles. “Here. Use mine.”

Stiles arches an eyebrow. His lips twitch into a wry smirk. “Don’t you have...?” He mimes claws.

Derek shrugs. “Sometimes you don’t want to get your hands dirty.”

“Fair.”

Stiles carries his goods out onto the sidewalk in front of the shop. He unfolds the map and holds it down with the lighter, salt, knife, and coffee, one in each corner. He pours a circle of salt around the map, then uses the lighter to sterilize the blade. Once the blade cools, he cuts his palm and makes a fist over the center of the map, squeezing his blood out over the map.

He closes his eyes and concentrates on his missing backpack. He’s used it to carry so many things that have been touched by his magic. There’s a durability charm sewn into the bottom and each strap. He’s got a lighter, candle, and mountain ash in one of the pockets. He’s got a woven protective charm on a keychain and a spelled coin in his wallet.

He opens his eyes as his magic gathers in the items before him. The salt swirls into a miniature hurricane, lifting the map up as his blood soaks into the paper. The map folds itself into an origami bird. The salt disappears into the folds.

The bird flits around Stiles’s head twice. Stiles points to Derek and the bird moves to flutter in the air in front of the officer.

Derek stares at the bird with wide eyes. He looks somewhat awed when Stiles hands him his knife back and picks up the rest of the supplies.

“What’s the coffee for?” One of the other officers—Boyd, according to his nametag—asks.

Stiles twists off the cap and takes a long chug. “I’ve been up since eight in the morning and magic uses a lot of energy.”

The bird flies a short distance away and hovers, waiting.

“Shall we?” Stiles asks.

“Get in the car.” Stiles doesn’t stifle his giggle well enough when Derek does the whole hand on the back of the head thing while helping Stiles into the back of their cruiser, judging from the look Boyd shoots him from the passenger seat.

The bird takes off and the cruiser follows. Stiles’s magic is sentient enough to know to pause for red lights and stop signs. They pull into an apartment complex.

“Stay here,” Derek says, his voice holding the warning growl of a territorial werewolf.

Stiles smiles and turns to lay down in the back seat. “Yeah, sure.” He waves his hand in a grand gesture. “Do your thing. I’m gonna take a nap. Please lock the doors on your way out.”

Derek snorts a half-suppressed laugh. He doesn’t ask why Stiles doesn’t want to come in with them, and Stiles kind of loves him for it. He’s not being arrogant when he says he’s an amazing magician, one of the strongest Deaton’s ever encountered.

He's strong. He's taken down Darach and wendigo and rogue Alpha werewolves with a laugh and a heavy dose of snark and sarcasm. But ever since one of his asshole classmates went crazy when he was in high school and shot up the Sheriff's Station while Stiles was visiting his dad, he's had a thing about guns. A very strong, very panicky thing about guns that sends him into an anxiety spiral like that one that Derek pulled him out. So he'll gladly stay in the car and letting the mostly bulletproof werewolf—werewolves?—deal with the asshole that stole his stuff.

He doesn't actually expect to fall asleep, but it's been a long day.

He wakes to someone tapping on the window above his head. Stiles blinks up at Derek. He flails, grabbing for something to help lever himself back upright. Once he's seated, Derek opens the door and sets Stiles's backpack on the seat next to him.

"Your phone, wallet, and keys are inside." Derek taps the front pocket. The paper bird is perched on Derek's shoulder. It nuzzles against Derek's stubble. Derek sighs in a way that suggests this isn't the first time the bird's done it and Stiles kind of loves him a little more. "Can I give you a ride back to the dorms?"

"Yes, please!"

Stiles pulls his phone out and unlocks it, checking his messages while Derek drives them back to campus. Stiles points him to the correct dorm. Derek gets out first to open the door for Stiles.

Stiles grabs Derek's arm before he can get back in the car. "Hey, can I ask you something weird?"

Derek raises an eyebrow but says nothing. The bird ruffles its wings and settles into a round, happy lump on Derek's shoulder.

Stiles holds out his phone with a new contact form open. "Feel free to tell me to fuck off if you're not interested, but would you like to go out sometime and if so, can I have your number?"

Derek's answering grin shows off those adorable bunny teeth. He ducks his head slightly as he takes Stiles's phone. "Yeah, that's... I'd like that."

As soon as Derek passes back the phone, Stiles shoots off a text so Derek has his number. "So, it's kind of midterms right now, but I'm free after Thursday and could really use something that doesn't involve studying or taking tests to kick off the weekend."

"I think I can manage that. I'm off on Friday."

"Cool." Stiles's grin is out of control. He bounces on his heels. "It's a date."

"Yeah," Derek grins back at him. "Looking forward to it."

Boyd raps on the window.

Derek jerks his thumb behind him. "I should go. Finish my shift."

Stiles gives in to impulse and raises up on his toes to drop a quick kiss on Derek's cheek. "My hero." He waves to Derek and the bird as he swipes to get into the dorm.

Despite his panic attack, he has some very good dreams that night featuring a blue-eyed officer.

[swanqueeneverafter]

What Dreams May Come, Pt.19

Storybrooke. Night. (Captain Hook, who seemingly has not stopped drinking since the morning, staggers through Storybrooke, a bottle of rum in his hand. Rounding a corner, he bumps into Will Scarlett.) Will: (Smelling the booze:) "Bloody hell." Hook: "Ah, young William. How goes it, lad?" Will: "Better than you it'd seem, Captain." Hook: (Laughs:) "No arguments there, my boy." Will: "You're drunk, mate. Time to go home." (When Will tries to take the bottle from him, Hook shrugs away from him.) Hook: "Get off me!"(Suddenly, Hook shoves Will backwards and punches him in the face.) Will: (Now lying on the ground, holding the bottle in one hand and his bloody nose in the other:) "What the hell, mate?" (Realising what he’s done, Hook staggers away into the night.) Henry's Dreamscape. Kingsley's Bed Chamber. (Henry and King Richard finally enter Kingsley's room.) Henry & Richard: ♪ We're off on a secret mission ♪ King Richard: ♪ To finally kill my sib ♪ Henry & Richard: ♪ And now that we're in his bedroom ♪ (Henry raises his sword over his head, ready to strike.) King Richard: “Hey, before we do this thing, I just want to say thanks for tonight. I really needed to get out.” Henry: “Shh. Just focus! You want to kill him in the head, or do you want to kill him in the neck?” King Richard: “Right. Here we go. Hey! Oh, and promise me you're not gonna say anything to anyone about that thing I said.” Henry: “What thing?” King Richard: “About me being a virgin.” Kingsley: (From behind a curtain:) “I think we've heard enough.” King Richard: “Oh, no.”

Kingsley: (Laughing:) “Oh! (Approaches along with several guards, and Gareth:) My dear, little, Dicky brother, untouched by war and women.” King Richard: (As the guards laugh:) “I mean, what I meant was virgin slayer.” (More laughter.) Kingsley: “You're doomed. Throw lover boy in a dungeon.” King Richard: “So mean.” Kingsley: (Taking the crown from Richard’s head:) “Oh, and you won't be needing this.” King Richard: (Gasps:) “My crown! He stole my crown.” Gareth: “Keep your chin up. Don't let them see you cry. Never let them see you cry.” (Richard is led away by guards.) Kingsley: “Gareth, I assume you like women. If you fight for me, I will give you land, a title, and as many women as you desire. What's your type?” Gareth: (Shrugging:) “Either really fat or really skinny, nothing in between.” Kingsley: “I'll give you fat and skinny.” Gareth: “I'll get back to you.” (He leaves.) Kingsley: (Placing the crown on his head:) “Awesome.” Enchanted Forest. Xanax's Laboratory. (Waving his wand around, Xanax chuckles as Hook sways on his feet watching the movements of his hand.) Xanax: "You have got to be the drunkest person I've had in here." Hook: (Suddenly grabbing Xanax's wrist:) "Drunk or not, I am Captain Hook. The greatest pirate who ever set sail, capable of very dark deeds. (Releasing him:) Now, I need to lie low for awhile." Xanax: "Lie down more like." Toad: "Ribbit." Hook: "Enough! Send me to a place where I can do no more harm to others, (Looking down at his reddened hand:) or myself." Xanax: "Just drink the potion and let yourself succumb to the motion of the ocean, my pirate friend." (Hook picks up the bubbling bowl in front of him, and drinks.)

Storybrooke. Sheriff's Department. (Emma is filing her last few reports while Regina places some personal items into a box.) Regina: "You sure you want to take all this stuff? You weren't fired, after all." Emma: "Oh you know how I am. I like to have everything within reach. If I'm gonna be gone for a few months, I don't want to have to keep coming back here every five minutes." Regina: (Smiles:) "Pack rat." Emma: (Smirks:) "No, I just like to be prepared. For anything." Lily: (From her desk:) "Yeah, well prepare to be kicked out of here in five minutes, cause I gotta get home." Emma: "Hey, I can-" Lily: "No, it's the Sheriff's job to close up every night. Lead by example, remember?" Emma: (Shaking her head, to Regina:) "Did you manage to remove the cloaking spell?" Regina: "Yes. Storybrooke's view of the neighboring realms has been restored. Although first thing in the morning I'll need your help tripling the protection spell around the town's borders." Lily: "Sounds like a fun way to spend your first day of freedom. Tick tock." Emma: (Sighs, to Regina:) "Just let me file these and we'll be out of here.” (Regina nods, then makes her way out of Emma's office. Passing Lily's desk, she pauses.) Regina: "Please thank Elsa again for hosting the ball. It was a magical night." Lily: "Yeah, my girl really went all out for it. Shame you two had to leave so early." Regina: (Confused:) "We didn't. I got a little light headed and needed some air, so I decided to show Emma around the palace. Away from the music and bright lights." Lily: "Hm. (Opening her desk drawer:) Are you sure that's all you showed her? (Placing a brown leather cuff on her desk. Enjoying Regina's shock, folds her arms and leans back in her chair:) You know, when I dusted my desk for prints to find out who had messed with it, I didn't find any." Regina: "N-no?" Lily: "Nope. (Reaching for another drawer:) Although I did find these bunched up on the floor by one of the cells." (Using her pen, Lily lifts out a pair of skimpy red underwear.) Emma: (Snatching them:) "O-kay. I'm ready. (Throws the panties into the box:) Let's go." Lily: (Smiling, very pleased with herself:) "Night, ladies. (As Emma and Regina hurry for the exit:) Hey, do you think it’s too early to ask the new Mayor for a raise?” (Chuckling to herself, Lily puts her feet up on her desk, tossing the leather cuff into the air before catching it.)

Hook's Dreamscape. (Hook awakens, laying on the floor of a darkened room. Pushing himself to his feet, Hook looks around confused until, starting at his ankles, the Darkness envelops him. As Hook screams, the Darkness makes him relive his worst memories.) Enchanted Forest. The Jolly Roger. Past. (Screaming, Hook is forced to watch as Milah's heart is crushed.) Hook: "Milah!" (Then, visions of Rumplestiltskin cutting of Hook's hand.) Hook: "You're no less a coward." Rumplestiltskin: "I want you to suffer." Storybrooke. Past. Apprentice's Mansion. Exterior. (Mr. Gold, taking Killian's heart while he is bound to the gate of the mansion, unable to save Emma, who unwittingly may get sucked into the Sorcerer's hat.) Hook: "Just do it." (Mr. Gold, beginning to crush Killian's heart in order to use the Sorcerer's hat.) Mr. Gold: "I promised you we'd have some fun first." Vault Of The Dark One. (Emerging from the vault, much like Emma did, Hook stands dressed in robes.) Darkness: (Waving:) “Hi.” Hook: (Lowering his hood:) “Bloody Crocodile.” Darkness: “Not exactly, but I understand the confusion.” (Hook yells and lunges at Rumplestiltskin.) Darkness: (Disappearing and reappearing behind Hook:) “That's not gonna work. I'm not out here. (Points to his head:) I'm in there. I am your guide... the voice in your head.” Hook: “Save your speech. I know who you are. But it doesn't matter, I won't listen to you.” Darkness: “What if I told you that together, I could get you the one thing you've wanted for hundreds of years? Your revenge. (Giggles:) That's right. I saw what you saw, dearie. I saw your pain. And I can ease it. Stick with me and you will finally do what you never could before.” Hook: “And what's that?” Darkness: “Why, kill me, of course.” Hook: (Hears music playing:) "Wait a minute. What is that?" Darkness: (Giggles:) "I believe that's your cue, dearie." (Hook frowns, and then...) Hook: ♪ I've savaged and pillaged and pilfered each village ♪ ♪ My conquests I'm justly proud of ♪ ♪ Each town that I plunder I leave torn asunder ♪ ♪ A pirate's life is one to love ♪ ♪ And yet, my heart's hardened as hard as a rock ♪ ♪ Won't rest till I've skinned me a Croc ♪ ♪ Sing a yo ho, you can beg, plead, and whine ♪ ♪ But yo ho, you are wasting your time ♪ ♪ That Croc got my hand, want to tear out his spine ♪ ♪ Revenge, revenge, revenge is gonna be mine ♪ ♪ Some say let it go ♪ ♪ But I say hell, no ♪ (Glancing back at the Darkness:) ♪ I'm finally on the right path ♪ ♪ Soon the Dark One will feel ♪ ♪ The fire of this pirate's wrath ♪ ♪ Sing a yo ho I'll slaughter the swine ♪ ♪ Yo ho, Must be fate's design ♪ ♪ At last our tales will again intertwine ♪ ♪ Revenge, revenge, revenge is gonna be mine ♪ ♪ Revenge, revenge - Oh, it's gonna be ♪ ♪ Oh, it's gonna be mine! ♪

Henry's Dreamscape. Kingdom of Valencia. Dungeons. (Gareth escorts Richard to his own cell as the guards bring in Henry.) Richard: “It was so rude! Who does that to my favorite crown? Did you know that? I got it for my birthday!" Ella: (As Henry is brought in:) "Henry." Henry: "Ella, you're so pretty." (Henry promptly collapses onto a pile of hay.) King Richard: "I failed in my mission, Gareth, and now it's our last night before we have to duel to the death. Come on, let's sing Pearl's song together, for old times' sake.” Gareth: “Shut up. I've told you your whole life to grow a pair, and you just won't listen, and now you're gonna die for it. Even though I'm the one who's gonna kill you, it's not my fault! It's not my fault! I warned you!” (Gareth leaves, locking the cell door behind him.) King Richard: “I know you did, my friend. (Begins to sing, regardless:) ♪ Lay by my side and we'll sail away ♪ ♪ Off to the shores of another day ♪ ♪ All set to go once I hear you say ♪ ♪ ‘Good night, my friend, until the morning’ ♪ (Richard’s singing carries up into Madelena’s bed chamber who is sandwiched between two possible ‘candidates’:) ♪ Up we will float as we close our eyes ♪ ♪ Stars all around us, like fireflies ♪ (The King’s singing can be heard in the tavern, pausing a fight in progress as they listen to him:) ♪ Just me and you, drifting through the skies ♪ ♪ Good night, my friend ♪ ♪ Not a thought ♪ ♪ Ah-ah ♪ ♪ Not a care ♪ ♪ Ah-ah ♪ ♪ Resting safe and sound ♪ ♪ With each other there ♪ (Richard’s singing brings comfort to the other prisoners, but is keeping Gareth awake, making him feel very guilty indeed:) ♪ And so we'll rock on our nighttime ride ♪ ♪ Cozy and warm on the rolling tide ♪ ♪ Till we arrive on the morning side ♪ ♪ At journey's end ♪ (Ella lays a blanket over Henry and places her head on his shoulder to sleep beside him:) ♪ Good night ♪ ♪ Sleep tight ♪ ♪ We're gonna be all right ♪ ♪ Good night, my friend ♪ Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. (Meanwhile, also tucked up in bed together, Regina and Emma read from ‘Dr. Spock’s Common Sense Book Of Baby & Child Care’. Chuckling as Regina points out all of the ‘errors’ in the book, Emma leans up and kisses her wife on the cheek before settling her head on her shoulder once more.)

Hook’s Dreamscape. Storybrooke. Mr. Gold's Shop. (Hook stands before the Gold’s as they take in what he’s just told them.) Belle: “You- You’re the Dark One?” Mr. Gold: “And now you've come for your revenge.” Hook: “The thought had crossed my mind. You see, believe it or not, in the real world we’ve actually made up. Pretty good friends actually nowadays. But, for my purposes in this dream world, I’m gonna go ahead and take my long sought after revenge anyway. So, (Holding up his hook:) for this lovely piece of hardware, I think I'll take your hand. For Milah, your heart. For everything else you put me through... hmm, I think your head will do quite nicely.” Mr. Gold: “So what are you waiting for? Get on with it.” Hook: “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. No. I've been waiting centuries for this moment. And I really want to... (Breathes deeply:) savor it. (Hook takes a sword from a shelf and slides it across the floor to Mr. Gold:) Get your affairs in order, dearie, for we duel at noon on my ship. Where it all began.” Mr. Gold: “How poetic. But we both know this weapon cannot kill you.” Hook: “Ah, true. That sword can't kill me. But this one... (Holds up a familiar sword:) can.” Mr. Gold: “Excalibur.” Belle: “You have it.” Hook: “Aye. As the Dark One, this is the only thing that can kill me. All you have to do is take it from me. So, what say you, Crocodile? Shall we finish what we started?” Mr. Gold: “Indeed.”

[badgerpride96]

A Wild West Experience Part 9

*Crawls out of Black Lagoon* I’m alive I promise. This took me so long to write and type, but it’s here now and I’ll be posting a snippet of Part 10 because I’ve been silent for so long!

Gio arrived at the office the next day, woke Jones up, and made coffee. The two men chatted, as always, but something was off, missing. Jones went on his way, Gilbert trotting ahead. Gio paced a bit, drank his coffee and read some claims.

It hit him. There was no noise above him. No rustling, pacing - nothing. It was too peculiar; the sheriff went to check at the door. He quietly mounted the stairs, and upon not hearing anything at all, knocked. The door swung open - the room was empty. 

The sheriff’s stomach dropped to his knees. He could only assume she’d run, that he’d been so very wrong. He clattered back down the stairs to the storage safe. All her weapons were still there. The sheriff spun on his heels and clutched his hands behind his head. Maybe he’d miscalculated, and the opposing sheriff had nabbed her. 

“Persephone,” he muttered to himself. There was no time to call Sam. Gio snatched his hat up. However, as he threw open the door, he nearly collided with Sam himself. 

“Lord, Sam!” Gio pulled the young man to his feet. 

“I’ve a message, sheriff, urgent!” 

“Sam, unless it’s about Miss Rose, I don’t have-”

“It is!” Sam gasped, rubbing his chest. “It is about Miss Rose.”

This actually surprised the sheriff. He checked, almost stumbling again. “Oh. Well let’s hear it then.”

“Sass was wantin to let you know that Miss Rose is currently sleepin at the Goose.”

“At the Goose?”

“Yes Sheriff. He sends his apologies if you were worryin, but he kept her there after they both had a bit too much t’drink, y’see,” Sam rattled off. 

Gio was trying to reconcile his mind to this significantly calmer turn of events. “At the Goose,” he muttered again. “Astounding.”

Any reply, Sheriff?” Sam sam asked, hopping from one foot to the other. 

“Ah, right. Sam, send back that I’ve gotten the message, and I’ll be droppin round bouts when Jones relieves me tonight. No need for Miss Rose to come here, she can stay at the Goose today.”

Sam took off again. Gio shook himself and looked out across General St. and Main. It had continued to be hot, but he sensed a wind today. A hot, dry wind that makes you anxious and afraid as it howls, that churns itself into dust devils, that leaves anger and dust in its wake. Such winds almost never entered Haven. There had been one that lasted a week, the week the War was declared. There had been one right before a prairie fire had decimated the outskirts of Haven. Gio felt one now, rustling its breezes, creeping along the streets. 

Gio took a deep breath, nodded once, and turned his back on the hot wind.

At just about 5:00, Jones arrived. Gio had been uneasy all morning, and thus was itching to leave. He had taken several turns of the town, meeting with people and receiving claims. But by 2:00, no one wanted to be outside, and he retreated to the office. 

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Jones asked as Gio hastily grabbed his hat and raised the horse screen. 

“The Goose,” was all he got in reply. 

“I don’t blame ye, it’s blisterin out there, and now there’s a wind!”

“Ye don’t say,” Gio thought as he pulled Gigi around and set off for the bar. He barely hitched Gigi before running up the stairs.

Kelly was behind the bar, laughing at something Owen was saying. She was back in her dungarees and a shirt, which looked strikingly like Sass’s favorite. Sass himself was pouring beer. Gio went to the end of the bar, leaning on the counter expectantly in the universal “we need to talk” stance. Elek nodded at him, slid the pint down the bar to its grateful customer, and came over.

“Late night?” Gio asked with a touch of irritation in his voice. 

Sass narrowed his eyes. “Yes. If you’re thinkin I should have sent a note late night, I was in no fit state to be contactin anyone. I’m sorry you were worried. But she was safe with me.”

“It’s not just her safety, Sass. She’s still an outlaw. She’s wearing your shirt, for God’s sake! Tell me you didn’t-”

“Gio,” Elek said, half angry and half amused. “Tell me you know me better than that. She’s wearin my shirt because she didn’t have one with her and didn’t wish to wear the same dress.”

Gio stared his best friend in the eye for several seconds, then sighed. “I do know you. Just, for God’s sake, send a note or wake Sam or ride your damn horse over next time. I was panicin.”

Sass gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re the boss.”

“Damn straight.” Gio leaned in, making sure Kelly was heartily engaged in telling Owen an adventure of hers. “What did happen?”

“Nothin. We had some drinks, which I admit were...exaggerated, we did some talkin; she fell asleep and I carried her upstairs. That’s all.” 

“That’s all?” Gio searched Elek’s face for any sign Elek was hiding something. Sass stared him down with a straight face.

Then, so small Gio almost missed it, Sass smiled. “That’s all. I wan’t unsavory.”

Gio let him go and settled in next to Owen. Kelly nodded to him, took a beer order, then came over. 

“I’m awfully sorry,” she said quietly. 

Gio waved away her apology, mostly for decorum’s sake. Owen was trustworthy, but people would ask why the sheriff couldn’t control the one outlaw in his custody, or they would gossip that Sass was colluding with her. No one would believe it, but everyone would say it. “No, it’s alright. Old Fashioned, if you would.” Kelly winced slightly, but made an excellent drink. “You alright?” Gio asked her.

“What? Oh! Yes! Just fine!” The doors of the bar opened, and she looked up smiling. “Admiral! Welcome!”

“Good afternoon, m’lady.” The admiral strolled to a seat on the other side of Owen. “I have a list of witnesses I want to call, I’ll have to write off to them. If you might provide the addresses, I can get them out with the 6:00 mail.” He pulled out a sheaf of paper, and handed it to her. 

“Naturally,” she glanced down, nodding. “Sass, can I use your writing desk?”

“Be quick,” Sass said, and she dashed off. She returned only a few minutes later, her tightly curled writing accompanying the admiral’s loopy scrawl. “Here you are, Admiral, I knew my hobby of memorizing lines would come in handy. Remembered them all.”

“Smashing! My dear bartender, may I now take advantage of said writing desk?”

“My office is gettin many attentions, is it?” Elek jerked his head to the office and the Admiral disappeared. “Well then, who wants sausage plates?” Several tables in the bar cheered back, “Right ‘ere!”

The next two hours passed pleasantly enough. This was the hottest day yet, and the wind Gio had noticed had broken cover. Folks came in dusty from hat to boots. 

“Is this a hot wind?” Elek muttered to Gio, leaning across the bar.

“‘Fraid so. Clocked it this morning.”

Elek grimaced.

“What’s that you two are whisperin about?” Kelly asked lightly, though she had the grace to ask quietly.

“Hush,” Elek said anyway, bumping her shoulder. Gio flicked his eyes to his friend’s face. The bar girl, having just started her drink at a table in the closest corner, smiled into her glass. 

“There’s a hot wind in Haven.” Gio said.

“What’s so secret about a wind?” 

“Hot winds bring trouble,” Gio told her quietly, Elek nodding in agreement. “Fires. Fights. Just trouble and always bad.”

Kelly glanced out the window at the sunset. “What’s this one blowin in?”

No sooner had she spoken the question than the doors of the Goose bashed open, hitting the wall and half swinging back again. Several people jumped. Gio and Owen whipped around. The bar girl darted behind the counter. Elek seized Kelly’s hand and pulled her behind him, to her annoyance. Yet when she saw what shadowed the doorway, she went white.

A tall, gaunt man stood in the middle of the doors, a few steps in. His appearance was both hulking and almost sickly. He was pale, but for his dark, sunken eyes. His lips seemed locked in a permanent sneer, just showing his teeth. He was covered in dust, from the soles of his boots to the Sheriff’s star on his chest. 

Three more men came in, standing behind him in a V. The farthest one looked at the bar girl and licked his lips. She shuddered, gripping the neck of an empty whiskey bottle behind her back.

Gio and Owen stood in front of Kelly as well, Sass glaring behind them, forming their own barrier. “Sheriff,” Gio said, nodding slightly.

“Sheriff,” Thomas replied, his voice deeply gravelled. He looked past Gio, straight into Kelly’s eyes. “Sister.” His sneer deepened. 

“Tom. So you finally caught up.”

“You finally realized you couldn’t run.” He turned back to Gio. “This is foolish, the whole charade of a trial. We all know she killed her husband, just release her to me. Justice will be swift in our dealin.”

Gio brushed his shirt back, and saw the sheriff’s eyes flick to the revolver on Gio’s hip. “All due respect, Sheriff Thomas, you’re in my town now, and this lady is in my custody. The trial will go ahead.”

Thomas stepped closer. “She got to you, didn’t she? You’re all protecting her, but I tell you, her own husband was murdered at the hands of this bloodthirsty bitch.”

At the insult, chairs screeched and every woman (and some of their braver male counterparts) stood up, some yelling objections. Every man, standing or not, made his weapon visible.

Before Gio could say anything, Kelly said loudly, “Call me whatever slurs you want, Tom. I’m not goin with you and they’re not lettin me go anyways. There will be a trial, and we’ll decide this there.”

The Sheriff moved as though to reach for her, but with so many hips glinting, he raised one hand. “Alright now, we’re in agreement. A trial it is, however much of a circus it may be.”

Gio addressed him cordially enough, but did not give any signal to stand down. “We can have rooms prepared for you and your men for the duration-”

“No, thank you, we’d not suppose the...hospitality of Haven. We’ll sleep out in the fields over yonder. Me and my men are well used to campin by now.” Thomas’s men looked as though they may not entirely concur, but they didn’t correct their leader. 

“Fine. Come into town for food or water. The trial will begin in two days, soonest the judge can do.” Gio stepped towards the other man, making it clear whatever welcome there had been, was overstayed. The bar girl finally relaxed; she had seen one too many bar fights for her liking. She glanced at Sass, and as he nodded to her, she saw that his hand still grasped Kelly’s. Kelly herself  began to come around the bar, following her accuser and releasing Elek’s hand. She and Gio escorted the sheriff and his men out to their horses. 

“By the way, Tom,” she said as he swung onto his horse, “you really ought to work on that act of yours.”

He curled his lip at her. “What’s the meaning of that?”

Gio and Sass, having come to the door, watched as she defiantly glared up at the man on the horse. 

“Because if you were a better man, a better sheriff, or just plain better at bullshittin, you would’ve remembered that he was not simply my husband. He was your brother, too.”

The smirk vanished and Thomas’s face darkened in anger. He jerked his reins, and galloped out of Haven, Kelly glaring after him.

–

Buy me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/badgerpride

-–

For more Content, check out @contentcreatorshaven or www.contentcreatorshaven.com! We are a creator collective dedicated to helping each other make it in this very crazy world.

[tarons-thighs-ad-infinitum]

How Little John Lived at the Sheriff's

(I tried not to change the songs too much but some of the lines were so confusing that I had to sacrifice a rhyme or two to make it clear.)

So Little John joined the Sheriff’s service and found life to be easy enough. The Sheriff made him his right hand man and he was his favorite employee. He always sat near the sheriff at dinner and ran beside his horse when he went hunting. With all the hunting and eating rich foods and drinking good wine, and sleeping until late mornings, he became fat as a stall-fed ox. So things were easy for him until one day the Sheriff went hunting and made things less smooth for him.

On this morning, the Sheriff and many of his men went out to meet some Lords and to go hunting. He looked around for his best man, Reynold Greenleaf but was angry when he couldn’t find him. He wanted to show Little Johns skill to his noble friends. But Little John was still in bed, snoring loudly until noon. He finally woke and opened his eyes but didn’t bother getting out of the bed yet. The sun shined bright in the window and the air was sweet with the smell of wall flowers since it was spring. Little John lay still, thinking about how nice everything was today. Just then he heard, faint and far away, a distant bugle note sounding thin and clear. The sound was small, but, like a little pebble dropped into a glassy fountain, it broke all the smooth surface of his thoughts, until his whole soul was filled with disturbance. His spirit seemed to awaken from its sluggishness, and his memory brought back to him all the merry greenwood life—how the birds were singing blithely there this bright morning, and how his loved companions and friends were feasting and making merry, or perhaps talking of him with sober speech; because when he first started working for the Sheriff, he was joking. But he got too comfortable and had pushed off going back to Sherwood for six whole months. But now he thought of his good master and of Will Stutely, whom he loved better than anyone in all the world, and of young David of Doncaster, whom he had trained so well in all manly sports, and he began to get homesick and lonely. He began to cry and he said aloud “I’m getting fat and all my manliness is gone and I’m a lazy stupid slug. I should get up and go back to my friends again and never leave them until I die.” and so he leaped from the bed, hating how slow he had become.

When he came downstairs he saw the Butler standing near the pantry door—a great, fat man, with a huge bundle of keys hanging off his belt. Then Little John said, "Whats up man? I’m a hungry dude cause I haven’t had breakfast yet. So you should make me something to eat.”

Then the butler looked grimly at him and rattled the keys in his belt, since he hated Little John because he had found favor with the Sheriff. "So, Master Reynold Greenleaf, you’re hungry, are ya?" he said. "But, fair youth, if you live long enough, you’ll find that if you get a lot of sleep, youll get an empty stomach. Whats that old saying, Master Greenleaf? Is it not 'The early bird catches the worm?"

“Excuse me, you giant fat gutted man!” cried Little John. “I didn’t ask you for an idiots cliche. I asked for bread and meat. Who do you think you are, tryna deny me food? By Saint Dustan, you’d better tell me where my breakfast is if you wanna save yourself from broken bones.”

"Your breakfast, Master Fireblaze, is in the pantry," answered the butler.

“Then go get it!” Yelled an angry Little John.

“Go get it yourself.” said the butler. “I’m not your slave.”

“I said, go get it and bring it to me!”

“I said, go get it yourself!”

“Fine. I will!” said Little John, raging. And he stomped off to the pantry and tried to open the door but it was locked. The Butler laughed and rattled his keys. Little John’s wrath boiled over and, with a clenched fist, he punched the pantry door and busted out three panels, making a hole large enough to step through.

He Butler went mad with rage at this. When Little John was crouched looking at the pantry, the butler grabbed him around the neck and pinched his face and knocked him over the head with his keys until Little John’s ears rang. Little John turned on the Butler and hit him so hard that the fat man fell to the floor and lay there like he was half dead. “There,” Said Little John, "think about this the next time you try to keep breakfast from a hungry man.”

He crept into the pantry and looked around to see if he could find something to appease his hunger. He saw a great venison pasty and two roasted chickens, and a platter of deviled eggs. But more importantly, there was a bottle of wine and one of beer. Which was a sweet score for a hungry dude. He took them down from the shelves and set them on the table, preparing to get drunk.

Now the Cook, in the kitchen across the courtyard, heard the loud talking between Little John and the butler, and also the blow that Little John struck the other, so he came running across the court and up the stairway to where the butler's pantry was,still carrying the spit with the roast still on it.

Meanwhile the butler had gathered his wits about him and risen to his feet, so that when the Cook came to the butler's pantry he saw him glowering through the broken door at Little John, who was getting ready for a good meal, as jealously as a dog glares at another that has a bone. When the butler saw the Cook, he came to him, and, putting one arm over his shoulder, "Look, friend!" he said—the Cook was a tall, stout man—"You see what that vile brat Reynold Greenleaf did? He broke in our master's goods, and knocked me out.  I thought I was dead. Good Cook, I love you, and I’ll give you a good bottle of our master's best wine every day, because youre an old and faithful servant. Also, good Cook, I have ten bucks that I mean to give you as a gift. But dont you just hate to see a vile loser like this Reynold Greenleaf taking it stuff so confidently?"

“Youre dang right I do!” Said the cook boldly. He liked the Butler after his talk of wine and money. “You go to your room and I’ll bring this kid out by his ears!” and so he put down the spit he still held and drew the sword that hung by his side. The Butler left as quickly as he could because he was afraid of swords.

The Cook walked to the broken door and saw Little John tucking a napkin under his chin and getting ready to eat and drink. ”What are you doing Reynold Greenleaf?” Asked the cook. “You’re nothing but a thief. Come out here or I’ll carve you like a roast.”

“Nah, man, you better be nicer to me. I’m normally as calm as a baby lamb but if you get between me and food: I’m a raging lion.”

"Lion or no lion," said the bold Cook, "come out now unless youre a coward AND a theif.”

“Ha!” cried Little John. “I’ve never been called a coward. So get ready dude, cause here comes the roaring Lion.”

Then he, too, drew his sword and came out of the pantry; then, putting themselves into position, they came slowly together, with grim and angry looks; but suddenly Little John lowered his sword. "Wait, good Cook!" he said. "Now, I think it would be dumb to fight  with good food so near, and its a feast as good as two big strong men like us deserve. So I think we should enjoy a feast before we fight. What do you think?”

The Cook looked up and down, scratching his head in doubt. He loved a good feast. Finally he drew a long breath and said to Little John. “Well I like your plan, pretty boy, lets have a feast like it was our last because one of us will die tonight.”

So each thrust his sword back into the scabbard and entered the pantry. Then, after they had seated themselves, Little John drew his dagger and thrust it into the pie. "A hungry man must be fed," he said, "so I’ll help myself.." But the Cook did not lag far behind, for straightway his hands also were deeply thrust within the goodly pasty. After this, neither of them spoke further, but used their teeth to better purpose. Though neither spoke, they looked at one another, each thinking to himself that he had never seen better fellow than the one across the table.

Finally, after a long time had passed, the cook sighed deeply and wiped his hands on his napkin. He couldn’t eat another bite. Little John had also eaten enough and pushed his plate away as if he were saying “I dont even want you near me” then he took his wine out and said "Now, good fellow, I swear by all that is bright, you’re the best meal partner I ever had. Cheers!" He clapped the flask to his lips and tipped his head back while the good wine flooded his throat. Then he passed the bottle to the Cook, who also said, "Cheers mate!" because he was just as good at drinking as Little John.

Little John said “you’ve got a round and sweet voice, dude. I bet you’re a good singer.”

“I have been known to sing a ballad now and then,” said the cook. “But I never sing alone.”

“Of course not!” said Little John. “It would be rude not to sing with you! You start us off, and I’ll sing one after you to match.”

“Yeah alright, Pretty boy.” said the cook. “Have you ever heard the song of The Deserted Shepherdess?”

“I dont!” answered Little John. “Sing it and let me hear!”

"Truly, I know not," answered Little John, "but sing thou and let me hear."

Then the Cook took another long drink from the bottle, and, clearing his throat, sang sweetly:

THE SONG OF THE DESERTED SHEPHERDESS

"In springtime, when leaves turn green,

And pretty birds begin to mate,

When lark birds sing, and thrush, I ween,

And stockdove coos soon and late,

Fair Phillis sat beside a stone,

And I heard her moan:

'O willow, willow, willow, willow!

I'll take for me from your branches fair

And twine a wreath to deck my hair.

"'The bird has taken himself a she,

The robin, too, and of course the dove;

My Robin has deserted me,

And left me for another love.

So here, by brookside, all alone,

I sit me down and make my moan.

O willow, willow, willow, willow!

I'll take for me from branches fair

And twine a wreath to deck my hair.'

But lke a fish from the sea

Walking in around the tide;

Young Corydon came over the lass,

And sat himself beside Phillis

So, quickly, she changed her tone,

And began to stop her moan,

'O willow, willow, willow, willow!

You can keep your garlands fair,

I dont want them to deck my hair.'"

"Now, My Word!," cried Little John, "that is a right good song, and has truth in it, also."

“I’m glad you like it, sweet boy!” said the cook. “Now you sing one! Because a man shouldn’t be happy alone. So shut up and sing.”

“I’ll sing you a song about a Knight of Arthur’s court and how he cured his heartache with a new love, like Phillis did! I bet she could cure one heartbreak by giving herself a new one. So listen while I sing:”

THE GOOD KNIGHT AND HIS LOVE

"When Arthur, King, did rule this land,

A goodly king was he,

And had he of stout knights a band

Of merry company.

"Among them all, both great and small,

A good strong knight was there,

A happy child, who was quite tall,

That loved a lady fair.

"But she would have nothing to do with him,

She turned her face away;

So he left the country with nothing,

And left that lady too.

"There all alone he made his moan,

And he did sob and sigh,

And weep till tears would move a stone,

And he wanted to die.

"But still his heart did feel the smart,

And also the dire distress,

And his pain grew rather sharp

As grew his body less.

"Then he went back where was good wine

And merry friends,

And soon did cease to cry and whine'

When happy and drunk was he.

"From which I hold and do say

To say, and even believe,

That if you drink your day away

The heart will cease to grieve."

"Now, by my faith," cried the Cook, as he rattled the bottle against the table, "I like that song hugely, and the moral of it, which hides like a nut in a ferrero rochet"

“My my my, youre a smart man,” Said Little John, “And I love you like a brother.”

“I love you too man. But its getting late in the day and I have to cook before the boss gets back; so lets go ahead and have this fight we planned.”

“Right.” Said Little John. “Lets get it over with quickly. I haven’t been so slow to fight than I was to eating and drinking. Lets go out into the hallway where there’s room to swing a sword and I’ll try to give you a fair fight.”

Then they both stepped into the broad passage that led to the butler's pantry. Each man drew his sword again and without more ado went at each other like they were going to tear each other limb from limb. Then their swords clashed noisily, and sparks flew from each blow in showers. They fought up and down the hall for an hour and more, neither striking the other a blow, though they did try to; but because both of them were good swordsman; neither of them won. Eventually they rested, panting; then, after getting their wind,they went at it again more fiercely than ever. At last Little John cried aloud, "Hold up!" and each rested against his sword, panting.

“I swear!” said little John. “You’re the best swordsman I ever did see! Honestly! I thought I’d have killed you by now.”

“I thought I’d do the same to you!” Said the cook. “But I have missed the mark somehow.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Said Little John, “What are we even fighting for? I cant remember.”

“I dont remember either.” Said the Cook. “I dont actually like the crabby Butler. But I thought since we promised to fight, then we had to.”

Little John said “It seems to me that instead of trying to cut each others heads off, it would make more sense to be friends. Whaddaya say mate? Wanna go with me to the Sherwood Forest and join with Robin Hood’s band? You’ll live a good life in the woods and 140 friends too! One of which is me of course. And you’d get three green outfits each year and 40 bucks a salary.”

"Now, youre a man after mine own heart!" cried the Cook right heartily, "and, as you describe it? It seems like the perfect job for me! I’ll gladly go with you! Shake my hand and I will be your companion from now on! Whats your name dude?”

“People call me Little John.”

"What!? Are you REALLY Little John, Robin Hood'sright-hand man? I’ve heard lots about you, but I never thought I’d meet you. You’re really the famous Little John!" And the Cook seemed lost in amazement, and looked at his companion with wide eyes.

"I am Little John, indeed, and today I will bring Robin Hood a right stout fellow to join his merry band. But before we go, good friend, it seems to me to be a shame, since we have had so much of the Sheriff's food anyway, we shouldn’t also carry off some of his silverware to Robin Hood, as a present from his worship."

“Good idea!” said the cook. And they began looking around and taking as much silver spoons and plates as they could find, shoving it into a bag. When the bag was filled, they started out for Sherwood Forest.

Walking into the woods, they came to the big greenwood tree where they found Robin Hood and 60 of his men laying in the grass. When Robin and his men recognized who had shown up, they leaped to their feet. “Welcome home!” cried Robin. “Welcome back Little John! Its been a long time since we’ve heard from you. We heard you joined the Sherrifs service. How have you been this whole time?”

“I lived well at the Sheriff’s” answered Little John. “And I came straight from there. See boss, I have brought back his cook and his silver.” Then he told Robin Hood and the men that were there all about what had happened to him since he left for the Fair. Everyone laughed. Except Robin Hood, who looked angry.

"Little John,"he said, "Youre a brave warrior and a trusty fellow. I am glad you brought yourself back to us, and with such a good companion as the Cook, whom we all welcome to Sherwood. But I dont like that youve stolen the Sheriff's plate like some petty thief. The Sheriff has been punished by us, and has lost three hundred bucks, even as he tried to con another man; but he didn’t do anything to warrant stealing his household plates from him."

Little John was annoyed by this and he tried to pass it off as a joke. “No boss,” he said “If you think the Sheriff didn’t give us his plates, then I’ll go get him and he can tell you with his own mouth that he gave it to us.” So he leaped to his feet and was gone before Robin Hood could stop him.

Little John ran for five miles till he came to where the Sheriff of Nottingham and company were hunting near the forest. When Little John came up to the Sheriff he tipped his cap and knelt before him. "God save you, good master," he said.

"Reynold Greenleaf!" cried the Sheriff, "Where’d you come from and where have you been?"

"I have been in the forest," answered Little John, speaking amazedly, "and I saw something no man has ever witnessed! I saw a young buck all in green from top to toe, and around him was a herd of 60 deer, and they, too, were all green from head to foot. I dared not shoot, good master, for fear they would kill me."

"What are you talking about, Reynold Greenleaf," cried the Sheriff, "are you crazy or are you high?"

"I’m not crazy or high," said Little John, "and if you’ll come with me, I will show you! I have seen it with mine own eyes. But you gotta come alone boss, in case the others frighten them and they get away."

So they all rode forward, and Little John led them down into the forest.

"Now, boss," he said at last, "we are near where I saw this herd."

Then the Sheriff got down from his horse and told them to wait for him until he gets back; and Little John led him forward through a path closed in with trees until suddenly they came to a great open field, at the end of which Robin Hood sat beneath the shade of the great oak tree, with his merry men all around him. "See, good Master Sheriff," said Little John, "There is the buck I told you about."

At this the Sheriff turned to Little John and said bitterly, "Long ago I thought I remembered your face, but now I know who you are. Shame on you, Little John, for betraying me today”

In the meantime Robin Hood had come to them. "Welcome, Master Sheriff," he said. "Have you come for another feast with me?"

“No, Heaven Forbid!” Said the sheriff earnestly, “I dont want a feast! I’m not hungry today!”

"Nevertheless," said Robin, "if youre not hungry, maybe youre thristy, and I know you will drink a glass of wine with me. But I am sorry that you wont feast with me, because you could have anything you want, anything you like, since your cook is standing right over there.”

Then he led the Sheriff, willy-nilly, to the seat he knew so well beneath the greenwood tree.

"Hey guys!" cried Robin, "fill our good friend the Sheriff a brimming glass of wine and bring it here, because he is too faint and weary to move."

Then one of the band brought the Sheriff a glass of wine, bowing low as he handed it to him; but the Sheriff could not touch the wine, because he saw it was served in one of his own silver flagons, on one of his own silver plates.

"Whats wrong?” asked Robin, "do you not like our new silverware? We have gotten a bag of it just today." So saying, he held up the sack of silver that Little John and the Cook had brought with them.

The Sheriff was bitter but dared not to say anything. He just looked at the ground. Robin looked at him keenly before he spoke again. “Now, Master Sheriff, the last time you came to Sherwood you did come looking to con a rich boy and you were conned yourself. But now, you didn’t come to do any harm. And I dont know that you’ve done any wrong to any man. I take my money from fat priests and rich knights, to help those that they’ve wronged and to elevate the people they trample on. But I don’t know of anyone you’ve wronged right now. So go ahead and take whats yours and I’ll let you leave without taking so much as one penny. Come on, I’ll lead you out of the forest and back to your friends.”

Then, slinging the bag over his shoulder, he turned away, the Sheriff following him, all too perplexed to speak. So they went forward until they came to within a hundred feet of the spot where the Sheriff's companions were waiting for him. Then Robin Hood gave the sack of silver back to the Sheriff. "Take whats yours," he said, "and listen to me, good Sheriff, take a piece of advice with it. Test your servants well before you hire them so quickly." Then, turning, he left the other standing bewildered, with the sack in his hands.

The company that waited for the Sheriff were all amazed to see him come out of the forest bearing a heavy sack upon his shoulders; but though they questioned him, he didn’t answer, acting dazed instead.. Without a word, he placed the bag across his horse's back and then, mounting, rode away. Everyone followed him. The whole time, the sheriff wrestled with his thoughts, over and over. And that’s the end of the story about Little John and how he once worked for the Sheriff.

[robinhoodrevisited]

Medicine & Retribution (pt.2)

Pitt Street Sarah: (Reaching through the barrier to the soldiers:) “Don’t do this! Don’t do this! My Jess needs help!” Robin: “Sarah!” (Makes his way to her.) Sarah: (Relieved:) “Robin! (Then realises he’s trapped, too.) Oh, no, no, you can’t be here. You’ll never get out!” (Djaq catches them up.) Robin: “I said I’d come and find you.” Djaq: “Take us to your daughter.” Sarah: (Gratefully:) “OK.” Robin: “Come on, let’s see what we can do. Come on.” (Nearby, Luke is trying hard not to cry. Will sits behind him with his arms around him and that angry, determined look.) Trip to Jerusalem Inn. Exterior. (Allan makes his mark on the post.)   Nottingham Town. Pitt Street. Sarah’s house. Interior. (The clamour of the trapped citizens can be heard as Djaq checks up on Jess. Sarah has eyes for no-one but her daughter. Robin watches,standing behind Djaq.) Djaq: “She needs water. Lots of water.” Robin: “Are there any other people affected?” Sarah: (Looks up at him.) “Half the houses in the street.” Exterior. (Robin sighs and steps outside where Much and Little John are waiting, Much with a scarf over his nose and mouth. Robin steps between them and turns to Little John.) Robin: “Right. I want beds and clean linens all in…(Robin turns to Much, sees his scarf and pulls it off)…. all in one place. Go. (Turns to go back inside. Calling after them:) And all the herbs and medicine from every house brought here to Djaq! (Robin sees Luke trembling and sobbing and goes to him.) Hey, hey, hey. (Puts a hand on Luke’s shoulder.) Luke. Luke, your dad wouldn’t want this.” (Luke throws off Robin’s hand.) Luke: “How do you know what he’d want? I should kill the Sheriff.” Robin: “You can’t just kill the Sheriff. Prince John would send an army to destroy Nottingham. It would create hell.” Will: “Robin… (stands…) I want to take him home… to Scarborough… our auntie Annie. (Luke sobs uncontrollably.) If you need us here—” Robin: (Interrupting:) “No, no. (Puts his hand on the back of his head, thinking.) No. Take him. And when you return we’ll honour your father.” (Puts his hand on Will’s shoulder.) Will: “Thank you.” (Robin goes back inside. Will stands in front of his brother and pulls his head into him. He stares out, thinking of a plan.)   Sherwood Forest. Commander's Camp. (A warrior is mending his armour as another warrior on horseback rides past. Indra, flanked by Octavia watches the man pass them and shakes her head.) Indra: "The last time I saw many of these men, we were at war with each other. Now the twelve clans fight together. Remember this day, you may never see one like it again. (Octavia nods.) You haven't heard a word I've said." Octavia: (Simply:) "Sorry. Are you sure this is wise, the union of the clans is barely holding together as it is. By gathering all the clan leaders into one room, the Commander is only asking for trouble." Indra: "That is not your concern." (Indra begins sharpening her sword.) Octavia: "Look, I've done everything you've asked me to do. And I will continue doing so. But if you're asking me to-" Indra: (Coldly:) "I'm not asking. As soon as Gisborne saw us, our war officially resumed. Go stand over with the other seconds. The Sheriff will have something planned for us and we need to be ready." (Indra walks away as Octavia nods, her expression grim.)

Nottingham Castle. Marian’s chamber. (Marian stands in her room, worrying about what is going on in the town as she listens to Isabella speak.) Isabella: “I’m afraid the Sheriff won’t budge on this one, Marian. Edward will have to stay where he is for now.” Marian: (Anxiously:) “He was in poor health before being sent to the dungeons, now that he’s-” Isabella: (Continuing, Reassuringly:) “I’m making sure he is as comfortable as possible. I’ve already convinced Vaisey to give him a private cell and despite what he says, Edward receives regular meals. (At Marian’s look.) Good ones too, I’m having the Sheriff’s private chef prepare them personally.” (The door opens. Marian turns towards it, expecting her regular servant, but it is a different Serving Girl, timidly stepping in and closing the door behind her.) Marian: “Where’s Sarah?” Serving Girl: “Don’t you know? She lives in Pitt Street.” Marian: “Is she affected?” Serving Girl: “Little Jess.” Marian: (Walks towards the Serving Girl, then stops and puts her hand on the bedpost.) “Right. We must get them medicine…and I need your clothes.” (Marian and Isabella exchange looks as, puzzled, the Serving Girl looks down at her dress.)

Nottingham Town. Pitt Street. (In an upstairs window, Little John throws open the shutters and pulls out the support bars. In the street below, Robin says goodbye to Will and Luke.) Robin: “I’m sorry, Will.” (The alarm bell is chiming dolefully in the background throughout.) Will: “Me too, Robin. (Robin and Will embrace.) Really sorry.” (Luke crawls out of the upstairs window onto a plank bridge to the next roof. Below, in the street, Much hands a carrot to Little John, who eats it quickly. Will and Luke jump to another roof and look down on the backs of two soldiers guarding a barrier to the alleyway. Much feeds Little John more food from a spoon. Will and Luke hop down to a lower-level at roof and then run and jump across to another roof. They extend a ladder across to yet another behind two sentries on the battlements and two more below them at the barricades, and wait for the planned distraction. Much nods to Little John, who pretends to look nauseous, and they head for the main barricades. One of the battlement guards taps his companion and they both watch Little John, who vomits through the barricade onto a soldier beyond. The distraction in place, Luke and Will quickly crawl across the ladder. Little John lets out a loud belch and one of the battlement sentries waves his hand in front of his face in disgust. Will and Luke leap onto another roof as more soldiers pass under. They look back and the guards pass them by. Much leads Little John back to the house, looking subtly up at Will and Luke on a “safe” roof over the market.)  

Nottingham Castle. Marian’s chamber. (Marian is wearing the Serving Girl’s dress, leaving the young lady in her sleeveless black shift. Marian collects some jars and bottles and puts them in her shoulder bag, which the Serving Girl is helping to pack.) Marian: “We’ll need to take food as well.” (Reaches up to take her hair-pins out.) Serving Girl: (Helping to pack:) “No need, miss. They’re all fed. The Nightwatchman visited last night. Pitt Street.” (Marian frowns in bewilderment as the Serving Girl continues to pack the bag.) Interior corridor outside Marian’s chamber. (Gisborne knocks on the door.) Marian’s chamber. Marian: (Panicked at being caught and pulling out another hairpin:) “Don’t come in!” Gisborne: (From outside the door:) “Marian?” (Marian rushes over to the door.) Marian: “You can’t come in.” (The Serving Girl watches anxiously as Marian latches the door and grabs the handle to keep Gisborne from turning it.) Interior corridor. (Gisborne tries the handle.) Gisborne: “I cannot talk to you through the door.” Marian’s chamber. Marian: “Well then, you cannot talk to me at all.” (Marian nods at the open bag. As Gisborne speaks, the Serving Girl puts one last item in and pulls the flap down.) Gisborne: (I just wanted to apologise… for what happened today,) Interior corridor. Gisborne: “the way the Sheriff treated you.” Marian: (Am I to perform like a monkey) Marian’s chamber. Marian: “whilst my father starves in the dungeon?” Interior corridor. Gisborne: “No. I will see to it that your father is properly fed.” Marian’s chamber. Marian: (Scoffs, Bitterly:) “Really? And what do you want in return?” Interior corridor. Gisborne: (Notices a small peephole in the door, but refrains from using it.) “Nothing. You have my word.” Marian’s chamber. Marian: (Gently:) “Then thank you.” Interior corridor. Gisborne: “Marian, please… let me in.” (Gisborne tries to turn the ring, but Marian keeps a rm grip on it. He gives up and leaves.) Marian’s chamber. (Marian nods at the Serving Girl, who then puts her cloak round Marian’s shoulders.) Marian: (Puzzled:) “The Nightwatchman went to Pitt Street?” Serving Girl: “Yes.”

Nottingham Town. Pitt Street. (Robin knocks on the door of another house.) Robin: “Hello? It’s Robin Hood. Do you have any medicine or herbs you could give me?” (The door opens and a man sticks his head out.) Man: “Robin, please, go away. We have the pestilence here. Save yourself.” (The man quickly closes the door. Robin walks away, flustered, and sees Joseph staring at him.) Joseph: (Annoyed:) “What are you doing?” Robin: (Surprised at his attitude:) “I’m helping the sick.” Joseph: “Leave them alone. (Robin frowns at him. Quickly changing his attitude to a congenial one:) I mean… you could die.” Robin: “Well, that’s a risk I take every day.” (Squeezes past Joseph.) Joseph: (Turns around.) “Know what? You’re right. Forgive me. Er, l-let me help.” Robin: (Scowls at Joseph:) “What’s your name?” Joseph: “Joseph. (Feigning innocence:) I’m here by mistake.” Robin: (Sizing him up:) “Yeah, you’re from Leicester, I heard.” Joseph: “Did you see the way those men treated me? (Shakes his head.) Godless.” Robin: (Looks aside, suppressing a chuckle.) “Well, welcome to Nottingham.” (Behind Joseph, Little John and Much carry out a bed with a sick person on it.) Little John: “Er, Robin?” (Points to Much’s end of the bed.) Robin: (Walking past Joseph towards Much:) “These men are with me. Can you help them?”  (Follows Much and Little John. Joseph stares after him.)     Sarah’s house. Exterior. (Robin carries Jess to their makeshift hospital alongside Sarah’s house. Sarah remains close and helps set Jess’s head on the pillow. Djaq is with a girl on the end bed; Joseph is kneeling over a patient on the floor next to Jess’s bed.) Djaq: (to Robin:) “These people are burning up.” Joseph: (Standing:) “You know, perhaps it would be a kindness just not to interfere, not prolong the pain.” (Robin, sitting at Jess’s bedside, looks up sideways and scowls at him. Much comes running in past Djaq, proudly holding aloft a large box.) Much: “This is a medicine chest! (Djaq turns around to face Much and he opens it to show her.) Every medicine known to man and some unknown. (Joseph looks unsettled and walks away as Djaq pulls out two bottles, squeals a bit and kisses Much on the cheek.) Oh, don’t do that.” Djaq: “Why not?” (Sniffs the contents of a bottle.) Much: “I’m a man, you’re a woman. I fall in love very easily.” Djaq: (Sniffs the bottles.) “Don’t worry. I don’t.” (Much chuckles once as Djaq quickly steps over to help a sick Old Man just brought in by his Wife.)   Nottingham Town. Battlements. (Will has strung a rope through a ring on a gibbet hanging over the wall. He lets the rope drop, then tries to grab it, but he can’t reach it. Luke hops up on the wall on the other side.) Will: “Let me go down first, make sure it’s safe. (Will flips out his hand axe to hook the rope and pull it towards him, then jerks on the rope to be sure it will hold.) I know what to look for better than you do.” (Luke snatches the rope from Will.) Luke: “Why do you always treat me like I’m a baby?” (Luke swings out beyond the wall and lets himself down to the ground below as Will puts his axe away, looking sadly down at his brother.) Will: (When Luke touches the ground, quietly:) “I loved you, Luke.” Luke: “See? Your turn! (Will pulls the rope back up.) Will?” Will: (Pulling up the rope:) “Run away, Luke! Run back to Scarborough! (Quietly:) This place is about to turn into [gives one final tug as the rope’s end slips out of the ring] hell.” Luke: “Will! (Cupping his hands round his mouth:) Will! Will!” (Will turns away, leaving Luke on his own outside the town.)  

[dougmeet]

Jerry Lee Lewis Elvis Assassination

For the first and only time, JERRY LEE LEWIS recounts the true, quixotic tale of his crepuscular, failed visit to a desperately lonely, strung-out Elvis Presley, explaining how the King's calls for an audience turned into a Graceland invasion, which turned into an assassination assignation, an arrest, a mugshot, and the untimely death of Elvis, the Golden Goose, who may have been saved from dilaudids and désuétude by one midnight visit from the only man who understood.

In this recently discovered interview, recounted for the first and only time by the Killer himself; hitherto romanticized by all who have dreamed its sartorial possibility, first Nick Tosches in his masterpiece "Hellfire," but formerly dismissed by its piano-pounding protagonist as tabloid fantasy, it is now confirmed by the only man who knows, as la superbe finale de Rock Star!

Discover the improbable cause of the jagged cicatrix decorating the nose of champagne-drunk, Jerry Lee Lewis!

Where truth meets apocrypha, its coruscating glory is real and everything is permitted (champagne défenestration, brandished pistols...and five Memphis Police cruisers are en route to Elvis Presley Boulevard to save the KING!

Due to inspire unbelievers, this is an out-of-control, rock 'n' roll telephone game between the King, the Killer, and the World!

Did he wish to kill the King?

It is for you to decide...at last!

mrjyn

...

In the early hours of November 22, 1976, Harold Loyd, Elvis', and the presiding guard on duty at Graceland, was greeted by an unexpected visitor, Jerry Lee Lewis. Jerry Lee, accompanied by his wife, pulled up to the mansion's front gate in his new Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow. He asked Loyd if he could see Elvis, but was told that the King was asleep. Lewis politely thanked Loyd and drove away without incident. Later that morning, at 9:30 a.m., Lewis flipped his Rolls while rounding the corner at Peterson Lake and Powell Road in Collierville.

The police report on the incident stated that the Breathalyzer test yielded negligible results, but that Lewis was obviously tanked on something and that he was charged with driving while intoxicated, reckless driving, and driving without a license. After the infraction Lewis most likely returned to his home to rest.

On November 23, 1976, less than 12 hours later, he was holding court at The Vapors, one of his favorite Memphis nightspots. For reasons that are still debated, Lewis decided to leave the Vapors at about 2:30 a.m.

Precisely 2:50 a.m., almost 24 hours later to the minute, he again pulled up to Graceland, this time in a new Lincoln Continental. The car wasn't the only thing that had changed from the night before. Lewis' manner was markedly different. He was armed, angry, and obviously inebriated -- a dangerous combination for a man mere mortals call 'Killer', He was outta his mind, man', recalls Loyd. 'He was screamin', hollerin', and cussin'.

'Get on the goddamn phone. I know you got an intercom system. Call up there and tell Elvis I wanna visit with him. Who the hell does he think he is? Tell him the Killer's here to see him'.

Loyd panicked. 'I just put my hands up in the air and said, 'Okay, okay, Jerry, just take it easy', Loyd retreated to the guard booth and picked up the house phone. One of 'the boys' answered and Loyd apprised him of the situation. Loyd was advised to call the cops and wasted no time in doing so.

Jerry Lee Lewis, Arrested at Gates of Graceland

Moments later Elvis himself rang down to the guard booth. Loyd recalls their conversation precisely. 'Elvis was on the line and he said, 'Wh-wh-what' -- see, he used to stutter a lot when he got upset -- 'Wh-wh-what the hell's goin' on down there, Harold?' 'I said, 'Well, Jerry Lee Lewis is sittin' in his car down here outside the gate, wavin' a derringer pistol and raisin' hell', 'Elvis said, 'Wh-wh-what's that goddamn guy want?' (I said) 'He's demanding to come up and see Elvis'. 'He said, 'Oh, I-I-I don't wanna talk to that crazy sonofabitch. Hell no, I don't wanna talk to him. I'll come down there and kill him! You call the cops, Harold', 'I told him I already did and he said, 'Good. When they get there tell 'em to lock his butt up and throw the goddamn key away. Okay? Thank you, Harold', (Elvis is said to have watched the 'whole drama on his closed-circuit monitors').

Officer Billy J. Kirkpatrick was the first to arrive on the scene. Though Lewis was still seated in his car, Kirkpatrick knew he was armed and approached with caution.

The Lincoln's sole occupant sat staring out the front window. When the police got to the open driver's side window, they found that the man was Jerry Lee Lewis, balanced on his knee was a chrome-plated, over- under style .38 caliber derringer pistol. Kirkpatrick ordered him out of the car, but Lewis would not comply', (Kirkpatrick) had to pull him outta the car', remembers Loyd.

'He told him to keep his hands on the steering wheel where he could see 'em. Jerry said he just wanted to see Elvis, but Kirkpatrick told him to shut up. Now, Jerry, he had tried to hide his pistol by puttin' it in between his knee and the door. But when Kirkpatrick opened the door, the damn gun fell out onto the floorboard (laughs).

Kirkpatrick picked up the gun, and it was cocked and loaded', Mr. Lewis was extremely unstable on his feet, his speech was slurred, and his breath smelled of alcohol. Mr. Lewis was apprised of his rights and was arrested for carrying a pistol and being drunk in a public place. The police report states that on closer inspection, Kirkpatrick noticed that the front passenger window of Lewis' car was smashed in. This accounts for the deep gash on the bridge of Lewis' nose, obvious from his mugshot. According to Kirkpatrick's report, the injury was sustained 'from broken glass resulting from attempting to jettison an empty champagne bottle thru (sic) the closed window of his '76 Lincoln', Kirkpatrick and four other officers took Lewis away immediately. But Loyd would receive another visitor before night's end. He explains', When the wrecker came down and towed Jerry's car away (at approximately 4 a.m.) they hadn't much more than gotten outta sight when another car comes flyin' up the driveway and two guys got out. I recognized one of 'em as Jerry Lee's dad.

'He was laughin', sayin', 'Ha, ha, ha, ain't this some crap, man? I just got word that they've taken my son to jail. This guy with me here, he just got me outta the Hernando jail. I just got out, and Jerry done gone ahead'. Sure enough, Elmo Lewis -- age 78, no less -- was arrested at 7:30 p.m. on the 21st for speeding and driving while intoxicated. He spent two nights in jail and failed to make his court appearance scheduled for the morning of 23rd. Like father, like son, indeed.

Here is Jerry Lee Lewis' own account of what happened, as related by Kay Martin: the president of Lewis' fan club .... 'Elvis called him and asked him to come out to the house to talk to him. Jerry was out on the town and by the time he got to Elvis' house, it was much past when Elvis had expected him and Elvis was asleep. Jerry had driven up after a sheriff from MS had given him a brand new handgun, but since Jerry did not have a permit for a concealed weapon, he had it on the dashboard of his car, as the sheriff had supposedly suggested. The guard at Graceland asked Jerry what he was doing with the gun, and sarcastically Jerry said he hadn't brought it to kill Elvis, so the guy should chill out. He didn't. He called the cops. Jerry was PO'ed, but the gun stayed on the dash the whole time. The situation blew over because it was a tempest in a teapot.

The sheriff who had given Jerry the gun cleared it up, too'.

Linda Gail (Jerry Lee's youngest sibling) interpretation of November 23rd also tells a similar story. 'Jerry Lee admitted to me that he had been partyin' and drinkin' and that he was a little bit out of it', Gail recalls', but he swore his intentions were good. He's very misunderstood, you see. It's a shame really', By Linda Gail's account, it was Presley who wanted to see Jerry Lee. (As told to her by her father and as he describes in the video below) He was depressed and called over to the Vapors hoping that Jerry Lee would come to Graceland and keep him company. She insists that Loyd never even informed Presley of Jerry Lee's arrival and that Jerry Lee grew belligerent only because he feared for what Presley might do if he didn't see him.

'I believe, really and truly, that the people who were associated with Elvis at that time were trying to manipulate him. He was supporting all of them financially, and it was in their best interest to keep him isolated', Linda Gail continues', Jerry really had no motive to lie. Why would he leave a place where he was having a perfectly good time to go down to Elvis' house and make a scene? It just doesn't make any sense. He had his whole entourage with him, and a couple of girlfriends and they were having a great time. There was no reason for him to go down there other than that he was concerned for his friend', Linda Gail's voice takes on a halcyon quality when she remembers Elvis and Jerry Lee's friendship. She speaks of their mutual respect for one another and tells stories of them riding motorcycles together and even going on double dates.

'Those two guys really did love each other', she says. 'I do believe my brother just wanted to check on Elvis. He went there to cheer him up and kinda bond with him again. I guess everybody over at Graceland didn't want the two of them to get together because Jerry was really havin' one big party at the time. If he and Elvis had started runnin' the roads together, can you imagine what that would have been like? It probably would have been more than Memphis could have stood'.

I called Lewis' production company hoping to get an account of that infamous evening from the Killer himself. I didn't get very far. 'We don't need all that bullshit from y'all', barked an anonymous voice at the end of the line. 'That's in the past. If you wanna write something, write something positive, okay? Thank you much'. Click.

By: Elvis Australia Source: www.elvis.com.au September 2, 2017

Twenty years later, in November 1976, Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis' encounter would be a very different affair!

Jerry Lee Lewis vs Elvis Presley 1976

According to Harold Loyd, first cousin to Elvis, and the presiding guard on duty at Presley's Graceland mansion -- in the early hours of November 22, 1976, he was greeted by an unexpected visitor. Jerry Lee Lewis, accompanied by his wife, pulled up to the mansion's front gate in his new Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow. He asked Loyd if he could see Elvis, but was told that the King was asleep. Lewis politely thanked Loyd and drove away without incident.

Later that morning, at 9:30 a.m., Lewis flipped his Rolls while rounding the corner at Peterson Lake and Powell Road in Collierville. The police report on the incident stated that the Breathanalyser test yielded negligible results, but that Lewis was obviously tanked on something and that he was charged with driving while intoxicated, reckless driving, and driving without a license.

After the infraction, says his sister Linda Gail, Lewis most likely repaired to his home to rest. Less than 12 hours later, he was holding court at The Vapors, one of his favorite Memphis nightspots. For reasons that are still debated, Lewis decided to leave the Vapors -- alone -- at about 2:30 a.m. At precisely 2:50 a.m., almost 24 hours later to the minute, he again pulled up to Graceland, this time in a new Lincoln Continental. The car wasn't the only thing that had changed from the night before. Lewis' manner on the 23rd was markedly different. He was armed, angry, and obviously inebriated -- a dangerous combination for a man mere mortals call "Killer."

"He was outta his mind, man," recalls Loyd. "He was screamin', hollerin', and cussin'. `Get on the goddamn phone. I know you got an intercom system. Call up there and tell Elvis I wanna visit with him. Who the hell does he think he is? Tell him the Killer's here to see him."

Loyd panicked. "I just put my hands up in the air and said, `Okay, okay, Jerry, just take it easy.'"

Loyd retreated to the guard booth and picked up the house phone. One of "the boys" answered and Loyd apprised him of the situation. Loyd was advised to call the cops, and wasted no time in doing so. Moments later Presley himself rang down to the guard booth.

Loyd recalls their conversation precisely. "Elvis was on the line and he said, `Wh-wh-what' -- see, he used to stutter a lot when he got upset -- `Wh-wh-what the hell's goin' on down there, Harold?'

"I said, `Well, Jerry Lee Lewis is sittin' in his car down here outside the gate, wavin' a derringer pistol and raisin' hell.'

"Elvis said, `Wh-wh-what's that goddamn guy want?'

"[I said] `He's demanding to come up and see Elvis’.”

"He said, `Oh, I-I-I don't wanna talk to that crazy sonofabitch. Hell no, I don't wanna talk to him. I'll come down there and kill him! You call the cops, Harold.'

"I told him I already did and he said, `Good. When they get there tell 'em to lock his butt up and throw the goddamn key away. Okay? Thank you, Harold.'"

Officer Billy J. Kirkpatrick was the first to arrive on the scene. Though Lewis was still seated in his car, Kirkpatrick knew he was armed and approached with caution. Kirkpatrick ordered him out of the car, but Lewis would not comply.

"[Kirkpatrick] had to pull him outta the car," remembers Loyd. "He told him to keep his hands on the steering wheel where he could see 'em. Jerry said he just wanted to see Elvis, but Kirkpatrick told him to shut up. Now Jerry, he had tried to hide his pistol by puttin' it in between his knee and the door. But when Kirkpatrick opened the door, the damn gun fell out onto the floorboard [laughs]. Kirkpatrick picked up the gun, and it was cocked and loaded."

The police report states that on closer inspection, Kirkpatrick noticed that the front passenger window of Lewis' car was smashed in. This accounts for the deep gash on the bridge of Lewis' nose, obvious from his mugshot. According to Kirkpatrick's report, the injury was sustained "from broken glass resulting from attempting to jettison an empty champagne bottle thru [sic] the closed window of his '76 Lincoln."

Kirkpatrick and four other officers took Lewis away immediately. But Loyd would receive another visitor before night's end. He explains, "When the wrecker came down and towed Jerry's car away [at approximately 4 a.m.] they hadn't much more than gotten outta sight when another car comes flyin' up the driveway and two guys got out. I recognized one of 'em as Jerry Lee's dad.

"He was laughin', sayin', `Ha, ha, ha, ain't this some crap, man? I just got word that they've taken my son to jail. This guy with me here, he just got me outta the Hernando jail. I just got out, and Jerry done gone ahead.'"

Sure enough, Elmo Lewis -- age 78, no less -- was arrested at 7:30 p.m. on the 21st for speeding and driving while intoxicated. He spent two nights in jail, and failed to make his court appearance scheduled for the morning of 23rd. Like father, like son, indeed.

However Linda Gail (Jerry Lee's youngest sibling) interpretation of November 23rd reads quite a bit differently.

"Jerry Lee admitted to me that he had been partyin' and drinkin' and that he was a little bit out of it," Gail recalls, "but he swore his intentions were good. He's very misunderstood, you see. It's a shame really."

By Linda Gail's account, it was Presley who wanted to see Jerry Lee. He was depressed and called over to the Vapors hoping that Jerry Lee would come to Graceland and keep him company. She insists that Loyd never even informed Presley of Jerry Lee's arrival, and that Jerry Lee grew belligerent only because he feared for what Presley might do if he didn't see him.

"I believe, really and truly, that the people who were associated with Elvis at that time were trying to manipulate him. He was supporting all of them financially, and it was in their best interest to keep him isolated."

Linda Gail continues, "Jerry really had no motive to lie. Why would he leave a place where he was havin' a perfectly good time to go down to Elvis' house and make a scene? It just doesn't make any sense. He had his whole entourage with him, and a couple of girlfriends, and they were havin' a great time. There was no reason for him to go down there other than that he was concerned for his friend."

Linda Gail's voice takes on a halcyon quality when she remembers Elvis and Jerry Lee's friendship. She speaks of their mutual respect for one another, and tells stories of them riding motorcycles together and even going on double dates.

"Those two guys really did love each other," she says. "I do believe my brother just wanted to check on Elvis. He went there to cheer him up and kinda bond with him again. I guess everybody over at Graceland didn't want the two of them to get together because Jerry was really havin' one big party at the time. If him and Elvis had started runnin' the roads together, can you imagine what that would have been like? It probably would have been more than Memphis could have stood."

** Story by Piers Beagley EIN and also taken from The Memphis Flyer **

Note - Elvis “mug-shot” from 1970 when he was presented with an honorary police badge.