#see: the way they were like 'oh yeah that hot dog store CLONED THE STORE OWNER SO HIS CLONE WOULD BE DOOMED TO MAKE HOT DOGS FOREVER'

[love-killed-the-superstar]

ugly crying i think i need to rewatch fast forward but take detailed notes this time

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S3 ep4

LEEEEETS GOOO!

Girl Stinky fighting Grandpa for Sal's honor 😍

So many Sams😲

Can the narrator pls shut up

"After they yanked it away they turned their attention on us." "actually I think they were more interested in me."

"Looks like it's time to boil the haggis" I love u Grandpa Stinky

"Need any help?" "No, I've been dreaming of this for years." *Continues to shoot Sam clones*

Skunkape loosing his mind

Oh geez, the dogglegangers kidnapped him

Girl Stinky still denying her obvious relationship with Sal

Oh hey I can make toast... Never mind then 😕

"Ah, I remember when I was a toaster."

Max and Grandpa are having a little too much fun shooting the clones

Why does Stinky have a picture of the DeSoto???

Well, the plan to turn into the DeSoto failed

I really didn't need to read minds to figure out how to get out, but I guess it was a good way to remind players of the tunnel

"Max is so powerful now... Soon he won't even need a partner."

Ew, Grandpa wants to sell clone meat 🤢

Sam struggling to not eat a fudgcicle is super relatable

Oh the tunnel is blocked. Knowing Girl she probably has a backup

I knew it.

"Happiness is a warm gun." "My gun is always warm... and a little bit moist." WHAT

*Gives clone a peanut butter ball* "Ew. It has peanut butter dog mouth. I hate when I do that."

Haha I made Sam eat a peanut butter ball now he's doing that dog lip smack thing

Oh hey, we can take a fudgcicle now. ...Oh, I know what to do!

Presidential Alert: The Stinky's are fighting!

Why does Girl Stinky's tunnel lead to a cloning facility?

The clone Sam approves of Sam's outfit

He stole Sam's hat!!!

"That's strange." yeah, you think!?

"--unholy army of sexually provocative Sam clones" What you just call them Max 👀

Cthulu tenticles!!!

They have spikes

"I'm thinking of a number between--" "Potato!" "That's uncanny."

Sam

"Momma sure does love a nicely turned Sam gam."

This episode is quickly turning into Max repeatedly saying how hot he thinks Sam is 👀

I guess let's explore the tunnels

Ooh the museum

Doctor Norrington? We get to meet him?

Nope :(

When they jumped back into the tunnels Max raised his hands up and Sam picked him up 😭😭😭🥰🥰🥰

Back through the tunnels

The shadow physics are all messed up

Boscotech!

Harry and Superball are trying to contact Momma. Can she not appear anymore?

Queen? Where are you?

"Keep your eyes peeled, Max." "Ugh, that's disgusting, Sam."

"What do you know about these scary--" "But dashing!" "--toy stealing Sam clones." oh max

"So you don't know where Momma Bosco is?" Sam says with a huge sad face

Superball my love

Max smokes Cuban cigars

"Yes sir, quite the coinkydink."

"I'm going to stand over here and try to shake off the memory of you saying balliwick." *,Literally stands in corner shaking his arms side to side* Max. I love you

*Harry insults Sam* *Max jumps to his defence*

"I'm afraid the contents on my mind is classified, sirs."

I'm going to find Sal

The hat thief stole the car!!!

Buster Blaster!!!

"Max." "that's what they call me at the manipedi." The boys get manicurs

I can't get to Sal or Buster Blaster because of the clones :(

Look a buster blaster's future and he's just floating through space shouting "This is totally awesome!"

Back to Stinky's

Flint Paper!!!

Flint's mind is just noir narrative... As it should be

Girl Stinky realized Max has been reading her mind

Sam and Max role-playing as Flint and Girl has me laughing

Girl tied Sam up into her lies

The fact that the boys don't realize who Mr. S is is astonishing

Great I have to find a cake. Back to Sal?

The clone Sam hugging the stuffed Bunny 🥰

Sam was doing the same to Max 😍

Love for legomorphs is stored in the dna

Oh hey I missed Charlie the first time

Max shares the creeped out feelings Charlie gives me. Good

Sal knows how to cook 💖

Sal is an artist 🥰

I love Sal

OMG is there actual blood on the cake

No! Don't eat Max!

Sam got a kiss from Stinky, lucky dog. I can't tell if he's surprised or grossed out 😂

Flint and Max are disgusted by the kiss

Oh to be kissed by Girl Stinky... or Sybil... Or Momma Bosco.

Sal doesn't want to kill. Good man

Girl and Sal are my new otp

Oh no, power het couple are possessed

Ok, I'm going back to boscotech for now to mess with Harry now that I have Charlie

Max really hamming it up

Oh hey, Max actually summoned Momma

Agent Superball just teleported?!

What is going on with him?

Also he has OTHER superiors

Momma are you hiding something?

"mmm-mm-mm, those shorts sure don't leave anything to the imagination, do they?"

Was Max right, does Momma have a thing for Sam?

Lol she was lying.

She seems to feel guilty about selling her cloning machines.

Max don't you dare mention the poppers in front of me!!!

It's pretty obvious it's Papierwaite

I like it when she spins

Oh, are we going to track down Bosco to get more DNA for her new body?

I'm going to take to Buster Blaster

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know anything about those Sam clones running around?" "THOSE ARE REAL?" "Yeah." "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!"

He gave us a letter to give to Momma from Bosco.

"See ya Buster." "I AM BECOME DEATH!"

Sam called Bosco "baby Bosco"

Oh hey, I probably should have tried reading Papierwaiite's mind already

Sam picked Max up so he could type in the code

Ew, Norrinton is a chest burster cthulu

Everyone keeps making fun of Sam's weight :(

Max's reaction to Norringron's grandson being named Junior is great

I used the destabilizer to look for the weapon and now Sam is crying profusely

That Romeo and Juliet reference tho

He's fine now

Well that was a lot of trial and error

Got the new toy and killed the tentacles

Time to get Momma a new body

Momma is bald. That's fine

Love that she's fully clothed even though that doesn't make any sense

Yay shooting things!

Oh no we made Sal fall

Momma is so excited to telport

Aw, she held Max's hand while Sam patted his head ❤️

She punched out Girl! Go Momma!

Ha, we made the clones dance.

Yay, we figured out where the toybox is.

AAAAH

I knew Charlie was going to be evil!

I hate evil dolls

The clones knocked the boys out

We're at the statue of liberty now???

Ew, she's got tenticles

Charlie wants to be reunited with Junior. Can't let that happen since it'll cause the apocalypse

Max is more concerned for Sam than the world

Charlie kidnapped Norrinton

Sam is still struggling against the thrall

Oh hey, got Charlie to let Sam talk

Let's mess with the sheet music

The liberty puzzel was fun

Oh shit, did Charlie just kill Norrington and Papierwaite

Ooooh, Max is all glowly

Ok, that last puzzel was kinda easy

Sam got his hat back!

Max, oh no he fell

Sam looked so scared

Oh Max, scared us for no reason

Oh God, he's scaring us for real now

OMG is this because he swallowed some demon yolk?

He's so big and Cthulu-y now!!!

Shut up narrator!

"Well, this is new." oh Sam

Wait the episode just ends there!?

Gaaahd now I have to stay up and play the next one or die from suspense.

After credits scene... Did we kill Sal!? Nooo!!!!

[michael-runs-hot-guerin]

Who's Really Lucky

Coda post 303

--

"Wait, stop at Alex's house," Michael said from the back of the jeep. He held the dog close to his body. "It's the turn after this one!"

"I'll lose the ambulance," Max said.

"Alex is his friend, he'll want to know and be there!"

He took the turn sharply. "Call him so it doesn't take long! Is is picking up Rosa, Rosa is calling Liz."

Michael dug his phone out. "Alex, Alex, pick up, Alex--"

"Guerin? Michael? Are you okay? What is it?"

"It's Kyle, we're almost to your house to pick you up, he's going to the hospital, A-Alex..."

"Fuck, okay, I'm-- I'll be out in a minute, I'm. It's-- it's bad?"

Michael took a shuddering breath; he hadn't gotten out, but even from the jeep it looked awful. God, he had seen him that morning. Told him to stay alive. "Yeah. Yeah, it was really bad. Max tried, but... He's been shotgunning nail polish remover the whole drive. We're here."

Alex was outside with his crutches, phone held to the grip as he headed for the jeep. Michael threw open the door and helped him up. They laid his crutches on the floor. "Wh-Why's there a dog?"

"Uh, long story, this is Lucky," Michael said. The dog stretched out over both their laps. "I'll tell you later."

"Okay, and what happened to Kyle?" Alex absently ran his fingers along the dog's back.

"Reckon he got in a fight outside the Police Station, not sure who with or how long ago, um, he lost a lot of blood, he-he was impaled on a thing," Max explained.

"Impaled on a thing?"

"I closed up the front hole, at least, and he was still breathing a bit before that, I think..."

"It was through and through? How big was the thing? Where was it?"

Max held up his hand to indicate a large circle, and Alex let out a pained gasp in response. Michael covered his hand shakily. Lucky twisted around to lick where they joined.

"It was, it was through his gut, on the right side."

Alex took a deep breath. In, out. Michael mimicked him subconsciously. "Cameras outside the station?"

"Yes."

"See you doing the alien thing?"

"Fuck," Michael said quietly.

Max shook his head as he pulled into a spot. "Using my powers makes everything blow out. There'll be a glitch in the video when I did that."

Alex squeezed Michael's hand. "Okay, good, but whoever he fought'll be on there. They won't get away with this."

All Michael could do was nod as Max frowned at his windows. "It shouldn't get to hot or too cold for him in here, right?"

"Huh?"

"Lucky," Max said. "We can't bring him in."

They looked down at the dog still stretched across their laps. "It's not ideal, but there's no other choice," Alex said. "Come on, boy, off."

The dog sighed but plodded over them and then jumped into the front seat.

"Good boy," said Max. "Stay."

Michael waited beside Alex's door as Max went ahead. "Has anyone called his mom?" Alex asked, foot firmly on the ground and crutches in hand.

"Uh, I don't think any of us have her number," Michael said.

Alex paused to get his phone from his pocket, then handed it to Michael so they could keep walking. "Valenti, Michelle."

"What-What do I tell her?" he asked as the line rang.

"That Kyle was hurt and he's at the hospital," he said calmly.

The line picked up. "Alex?"

Michael swallowed. "Michael Guerin on Alex's phone, Sheriff. It's about Kyle, he's in the hospital."

"I know, the paramedics called me, I'm on my way. Is there any news?"

"We just got here," Michael said. "Sorry."

"They won't tell us anyway," Alex said. "We're not immediate family. Max might be able to get something."

"How'd it happen?" Michelle asked.

"He got in a fight outside the Station," Michael said. "Max and I found him."

"Thank you," she said. "I am going to hang up and focus on driving now."

"Okay."

They caught up with Max at the counter. "She could only tell me he's in surgery and needed a massive transfusion. We can wait back through here."

Slowly, all of Kyle's friends and family were crowded into the waiting room, all trying to comfort each other, Rosa still trying to reach Liz on her phone.

Alex and Michael sat together, knees brushing. "He came to see me this morning," Michael said quietly.

"What for? Thought you didn't like him."

"I don't!" Michael sighed. "I can't just... let go of how he treated you. I know it was a long time ago, but so were-- But I know you care about him. He brought me a radio his dad wanted him to have, last night it turned on and played a song and his dad's voice, and we found some alien glass inside. His dad told him to get out."

"Get out of what?"

"The alien stuff. And I said he was right, he should stay alive rather than get involved in our bullshit," he said.

Alex squeezed Michael's shoulder. "We're all adults here, Michael. We make our own choices. And... Sorry, did Kyle say what song it was?"

"Um, some really old one I guess, like, I don't want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart," he said. He sniffed. "Is that important?"

"Kind of. But not at the moment," Alex said.

Rosa jumped up from where she was sitting on Alex's other side, phone to her ear. "Liz! You have to get back to Roswell. Liz? Ugh, Heath. What?"

She looked around the room and landed on Max, who was failing to eavesdrop subtly from in between Michelle Valenti and Isobel. Rosa narrowed her eyes. "Well you can tell her Max is fine, but Kyle isn't, and she needs to get her ass down here. Oh? I didn't hear you tell her it's Kyle. Uh-huh, that's what I thought. See you soon."

She put her phone away and stalked up to Max, whom she kicked in the shin. She hissed, "You marked her!"

Max blinked in confusion. "What?"

"She blew out all the lights at her place an hour ago and collapsed and thought you were dying!" She kicked him again. "Effing pendejo."

"What the hell," Michael said. "How could she do that..."

"Rosa, quit it!" Max whispered back. "Now's not the time, alright, I didn't do it on purpose, I didn't even realize I had! Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she was with her co-worker, he's driving her here."

Max nodded. "Okay. All we can do now is wait, then."

Rosa spun without another word and sat back down beside Alex. He gently pulled her over for a one-armed hug.

"Mrs. Valenti," a nurse called, and everyone in the room held their breath. "Your son is stable. He needs another transfusion, but you'll be able to see him within an hour."

The sigh of relief that went around the room was palpable. Alex rubbed Rosa's shoulder and said, "He's okay, he's gonna be okay."

Michael laced his fingers together with Alex's properly, then dropped his forehead to his shoulder. Max and Isobel hugged each other, then he comforted Mrs. Valenti as Isobel and Maria spoke in a low voice to each other about what this meant for her vision.

"I texted Liz that he's stable," Rosa said. "She's still on the way."

All they could do now is wait.

--

"So, is Lucky your dog, Max?" Alex asked hours later. They couldn't all stay at the hospital; Michelle promised to text him any updates.

"Lucky got accidentally shot and then healed today," Max said gruffly. "Well, yesterday."

"Why did you shoot a dog in the first place?" Alex said.

"I didn't. The alien I was cloned from did."

Alex stopped in the middle of the parking lot and leaned heavily on his crutches. "What."

"Long story, like I said." Michael offered, "I can fill you in on the way to your house?"

"Yes, please do. First tell me where Lucky is going to stay."

"Uh, with me, I guess," Max said. He reached through the window and patted the dog on the head. "I don't really have anything for him, though. What do they even eat?"

"Dog food," Michael said helpfully. Once they were all in the jeep, Lucky jumped into the back and stretched out on their laps again. "I used to help with Sanders' dog, maybe I should take him to the junkyard."

"Do you have dog food?" Alex asked.

"I have canned ravioli, dog food comes in cans, close enough."

"No. Okay. Well, I have some stuff, since I'd been wanting to get a dog, and they can eat plain cooked chicken, so until the stores open I have that."

"You wanna take him?" Max said.

"He seems like a good boy," Alex said, and Lucky's tail thumped against the door. "I love dogs."

"If you're sure," Michael said.

"Uh huh, now tell me about this clone thing."

It took much longer than the car ride to explain, so Alex invited the alien bros inside for tea. They helped him get Lucky set up, and then they explained everything about Jones.

--

[detroitbydark]

Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: when life (or Thire) gets him traffic duty, Hound makes the most of it.

Warnings: None

A/N: I shouldn’t be starting a new work. I really shouldn’t. I also shouldn’t have decided to write a oneshot, talked to @skdubbs and have four chapters plotted out.

This does take place in the Fox and Mouse verse (around chapter 6 if I remeber correctly).

————

“From Kessel to Kijimi, this is Nuna Skii flying you through the dark hours of the night. I’d like to give a shout to-.”

Hound hunches forward over the handle bars to the GAR issued speeder. Traffic Ops. Kriff.

It would teach him to make a bet with Thire. Then again, how was he to know that the Commander actually had it in him to bag the cute little secretary that took up guard duty outside of his office door.

Obviously not Hound.

The ARF Sargent sighs before turning the radio up. He’d rather be back in his barracks with his massiff at his feet than clocking for speeders and traffic violations. It wasn’t that it was below him it was just… well it was below him. He didn’t go through recon school to be looking for our of date tags.

At least he got to listen to his favorite radio show.

“-and more of that sweet jizz music coming from Dantooine as a special favor to my boys in the 332nd”

Nuna Skii’s show on Independent Republic Radio was a favorite of many a trooper. Overnights were osik but the sweet smoky sound of her voice and the frequent shoutouts - often laced with innuendo - were definitely one way to pass the time. And if her voice was stored in the spank banks of half the troopers in the GAR? Well, that was just an added bonus to her show.

“Just you, me and an empty sky lane tonight, eh Nuna?” He asks the radio.

“How about we take another deep dive into an absolutely delicious track, yeah?”

“You could sell me some ocean front property on Tatooine and I'd pay top dollar. Hit me with it, babygirl.”

He only does a handful of stops and doesn’t write a single ticket for the next six hours.

———

She was so karking tired. Like, tired was an understatement. Half-dead might be more correct. She needed atomic grade caf or a bed to pass out in immediately. Glancing at the near stalled traffic in front of her, Nuna can’t help but think she wasn’t going to get either anytime soon.

The joys of working nights.

She really did love her job. To be a young holoradio jockey and have a spot on any station on Coruscant was pretty damn amazing but to have it on IRR? probably the single coolest station in the core worlds? It was a dream come true. Most of the time.

A yawn escapes her lips and her speeder rattles ominously underneath her.

“Oh- no, no, no.” She mutters looking down at her gauges. Warning lights flash brightly. She’d just gotten the kriffing thing out of the shop last week. They were supposed to have fixed the thrusters. The bike leans to the right and Nuna feels the tell tale swoop in her stomach from a sudden drop in altitude. It wasn’t much more than a few feet but if it was anything like it was the week before she needed a landing platform. And fast.

The early morning light bounces off the transparisteel buildings around her as she tries to find the nearest safe bet. Her speeder bike coughs once and jerks again, jostling her helmeted head. She sucks in a sharp breath as it pulls hard, dragging her from the skylane and into open air. It’s a struggle to keep the thing upright as she tries to guide it in for a landing on the nearest platform. Lights flash in her rear view.

“Really? Really?!” She hisses to herself as her muscles strain to keep the bike on course.

She manages to land the malfunctioning speeder, the ungainly pile of scrap plopping down with all the grace of a pregnant nerf.

The Coruscant Guard bike, all sleek lines, gunmetal grey and cherry red accents lands feet behind her.

Hers makes one last wheeze and cuts off. The good thing is, she’s wide awake now. No caf needed.

“Ma’am?”

Nuna turns to see the visage of snarling maw cocking it’s head in her direction.

“You ok?”

She swallows hard. It was a known fact within her small circle of friends that Nuna Skii - the real Nuna Skii not the sex kitten holojockey- was absolute mush for a guys in uniform and the one stepping closer was definitely one that would make her heart pump harder if it weren’t already for the adrenaline of a near death experience. If there was a name for kink involving men in helmets Nuna had it.

“I- uh- yeah” she takes a deep breath because now was not the place and certainly not the time, “I’m good”

The trooper's head cocks the opposite direction as he points toward her handlebars. “You know you're ok to let those go now, right?”

A nervous laugh escapes her lips. Her hands feel stiff from the exertion of the landing and she wiggles her fingers, forcing the blood back into them as she pulls them back toward her. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem. Can I see your identichip and registration?”

Nuna gives him a blank stare for half a second, eyes moving almost comically from his outstretched hand and back up to his helmet. His free hand rests at his kama, index finger tapping idly. He’s got to be kidding, she nearly died and he was going to-

“You're going to give me a ticket?” She pulls her helmet off with little fanfare and hangs it from the handle bars. “Really? I nearly died and now I’m getting a ticket?!”

The trooper holds both hands up, “Easy there. No one said anything about a ticket. Just because you broke about three different traffic codes and at least two vehicular safety ones...” he lets the implication of what he’s said hang in the air.”

Nuna pulls the requested items out of her bag and hands them to the trooper with more aggression than needed but, damn it all, she was so tired she could cry and now she had to deal with a broke down speeder. Again.

She watches as the trooper looks down at the identichip and then back to her. Once, twice, three times.

“Is there a problem?”

“You’re Nuna Skii- I mean like the real Nuna Skii?” The tone of his voice has changed and he almost seems… excited?

“Uh yeah, guilty as charged. Listen, is this going to-“

“Say, ‘flying you through the night on IRR.’”

“Is this part of your usual traffic stops?” Nuna raises a brow at the trooper. Really? Did it ever get strange enough. She swings a leg over the seat and moves to stand. Her legs shake underneath her and tall, excitable and toothy holds out a gloved hand.

“Here, let me help you.”

She takes it because falling flat on her face really doesn’t seem like something she wanted to add to her laundry list of problems this morning. When she’s standing at her full height, which was substantially shorter than the solid wall of clone trooper in front her, she looks up.

His hand moves to the back of his helmet and rubs gently, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound demanding.” He says almost bashful. “It’s just that if-“

She takes pity on him. “From Corellia to Canto Bight, flying you through the night on Independent Republic Radio”

He stands frozen for a moment. Nuna squirms under the unflinching state of his visor until finally-

“Holy Fett! It’s really you! Listen! I- I mean we- the Guard- we’re like your biggest fans.”

The wind whips up through the levels ruffling the hair on her head, deep lilac colored wisps work their way into her mouth and she spits uselessly before reaching up and using her fingers to remove them. “That’s great really-“

Her hands go to her hips. Was this guy for real?

“Hey, I know a guy that does towing. He’s kind of a di’kut but he owes me a favor. I could get your ride towed where you need it. I mean, if you want?”

“Like, for free?” She clarifies.

The trooper looks down at her as if that was a given, “well, yeah.”

“And you want what in return?” Nuna fidgets. This is where the guy becomes a dirtbag and asks for something. He hands back her identichip and registration before reaching up and popping the seal on his bucket. He gives her a lopsided grin as he slips the helmet up his arm. Kriff. He was cute. His dark hair is cut into a floppy Mohawk. A stray curl of it dips down across his forehead and he offers her a lopsided grin. He is about as intimidating as a puppy.

“Can I get a shout out on your show tonight? I mean, the boys are NEVER going to believe this unless you do.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it” he seems to think for a moment and his smile becomes toothy, “unless you’d like to give me your number too?”

She can feel the hot rush of embarrassment to her cheeks and hopes he mistakes it for wind burn. She ignores his comment about her number because, this fine specimen was so far out of her league it was crazy.

“So What’s to stop me from saying yes and not doing it”

“Aww come on, please? You wouldn’t do one of your biggest fans like that would you?”

“What’s your name?” She can’t handle the soft puppy dog eyes he’s giving her. It should be illegal for any dude with shoulders that broad to look so cute.

“Sargent Hound of the Coruscant Guard at your service.”

She nearly chokes. Well, that explained the puppy dog eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, Sargent.” She says regaining her composure. She looks behind him to the GAR issued speeder. “If you can drop me at my building I’ll call it a deal.”

His smile makes her tummy flutter, “I think that can be arranged.”

——-

“You’re full of it” Rule barks “Osik up to your visor!”

Hound is lounging back on a couch that is not nearly large enough for both him and the massiff sprawled out on it. Grizzer lifts his head, licks his lips lazily and lays back down. Hound scratches around the creature's dorsal spikes and the massiff kicks his back foot happily.

“I told you man. It was her. Identichip verified and everything.

“El-Tee? You hear this?”

Lieutenant Thire looks up from his holopad and the boloball game he was watching, “what?”

Rule is grinning from ear to ear, “Hound here says he helped Nuna Skii out of a bind this morning.”

“I’m not just saying it. I did it.”

Hound explains lazily. He doesn’t tell them about giving her a ride home, pretty sure he broke about half a dozen regs just having her pressed up against his back and her arms around his waist and that was before he dropped her at her building. It was early enough in the day that he doubts anyone really noticed. If they did it was worth it to have her hands clutching at his armor.

Hound had pictured Nuna Skii so many times that the fact that she wasn’t a leggy blonde had come as a shock. What she was wasn’t a bad thing, just different. Short and soft with curves in places he wished he could run his hands all over.

“Prove it!” Ryk laughs as he ambles in, freshly showered and pulling his blacks over his head.

“Should we tell ‘Em Grizz, old man? Or should we just let them eat their buckets when it happens?”

Ryk rolls his eyes as the ARF Trooper chats with his massiff. “You know he’s never going to answer back, right?”

Grizzer looks over his shoulder at Ryk.

“Aww come on man” Hound fusses. One mearty hand moves to scratch under the massiff’s intimidating jaw. Grizzer turns into the touch, nearly purring with contentment. “Just because he can’t speak basic doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand it. Isn’t that right boy. We got our own language, Grizz and I. Smartest mas’ in the whole GAR, aren’t you?”

The creatures leathery tail thumps happily in agreement.

“Don’t know about that but he certainly smells a lot better than the bunch of you.” Thire mutters turning his attention back to boloball and cursing quietly. Ryk lifts an arm smelling.

“Not me! I’m squeaky clean!”

“We’re getting off track here” Rule announces in an attempt to refocus the gathered troopers. “What we need to know is how you're going to prove you met Nuna Skii.”

“Did she sign a ticket?” Thire asks, not looking up. When Hound doesn’t answer Thire looks up.

“She was having a really bad morning-“

“You do know when you work traffic you have to ticket people at least once in a while.”

“Apparently, not the pretty ones.” Ryk cackles.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, vod.”

Ryk rolls his eyes as Hound moves to turn the radio on. Nuna’s show was starting any minute. He hoped she’d come through.

———-

Around and around Nuna spins. The wheels on her roller chair are in desperate need of oil and squeak in protest. Nuna is undeterred as she waits for the next commercial to end. Her producer glances at her through the transparisteel divider and rolls her eyes. Yes, she was a child. No, she would not be apologizing. She grabs a cold protato from a greasy Dex’s bag as she makes another loop. If her fans could see her now. She’s got on an oversized tunic and a pair of dark pants that were probably a little too tight but were way too comfortable for her to care. When she woke her hair wasn’t about to do anything for her so now it sits piled high in a sloppy bun atop her head. She was about as far away from the character she portrayed as she could get.

“On in fifteen Nunz” Tully her producer says. Nuna hurries to swallow her food and takes a big gulp of water.

“And that was the Twi’Three with their latest and I’m Nuna Skii keeping you up all night.” She purrs into the mic. “I think we’re going to go to the comms and take a few calls. Whatcha wanna let the galaxy know?”

“Hi Nuna. Long time listener. I just wanted to say that I love the show but I’m getting really tired of your pandering to clones-“

Nuna mashes the end button with gusto before sighing deeply into the mic.

“Babies and Gentlemen. My lovelies. From 2100 til 0500 five nights a week this is a trooper positive show. If you don’t like it I’d suggest you find something else to listen too. Those yummy boys in white are giving the Republic their all. I don’t see a problem with a few minutes here and there dedicated to them, do you?” She asks sweetly. “It makes me happy making them happy. You know what else makes me happy? New stuff from that Mon Cal band, Ach’tu. Coming at you after this commercial break”

———-

“Maker, I love when she does that.” Ryk groans quietly. “She could put me in my place any day.”

Rule nods, “she could read me the repair manual to my deece and I would die a happy man.”

Thire snorts, “What about you Hound. Got something to say?”

“Yeah man” Ryk lifts his head from where he was resting it against the back of his chair. “What does she look like.”

Hound offers a sly grin, “like a million credits.”

“Long legs? Big tits? You're killing us man” Rule says raising a brow, “unless you don’t really know.”

Hound laughs, “I know vod, but I’m not telling.” His brothers roll their eyes.

“For all my blaster babes and bucket bunnies happily messing with republic property. I salute you.” Nuna’s voice grabs the gathered troopers attention. Thire snorts softly, pretending as if he wasn’t listening. “Along those lines I want to send a special thanks to my new favorite Hound dog out there patrolling the sky lanes of Coruscant. Keep being a good boy and next time we meet I’ll give you a scratch behind the ears.”

The room falls silent except for the low snore of a sleeping massiff. All eyes fall on Hound. His smile says I told you so.

A good boy. Yeah, he could be very happy with that.

[leiascully]

if you're taking fic requests (sorry if you're not) could you write a post-revival fic where william is staying with mulder and scully in the unremarkable house and mulder wakes up in the middle of the night hearing william wandering around downstairs having gotten up to let daggoo out and also he couldn't sleep and he and mulder talk

Timeline: Post Season 11Rating: PGCharacters: Jackson, Mulder, DaggooA/N:  Better late than never?

The floor creaks and Mulder is awake instantly.  Scully just mumbles and turns over as he eases out of bed.  He doesn’t know how she sleeps through these things.  Maybe she’s just more righteous than he is, or maybe it’s his lifetime of insomnia still nudging him out of his dreams.  Maybe it’s the pregnancy.  She has seemed exhausted lately.  He picks up his weapon from the bedside table and pulls a clip out of the drawer.  Better safe than sorry, he thinks as he slots it in.  They’ve had more than a few unwelcome visitors the past few years.  He slides his feet into his slippers and pads down the hallway.  At least he wasn’t sleeping in the nude tonight.

There’s definitely someone in the house.  There’s a light on in the kitchen and Mulder can see a shadow.  Daggoo is barking quietly, these little excited sounds.  He doesn’t sound upset.  Mulder creeps down the stairs one at a time, sliding the clip into his weapon.  

“It’s just me,” Jackson says as Mulder comes down the stairs.   Mulder knocks the clip back out of his weapon and tucks the weapon and the clip in separate pockets of his pajamas.  Jackson stands in the doorway to the kitchen, Daggoo’s leash in his hand.  Daggoo prances beside him, and Jackson stoops to pick up the little dog.  Daggoo licks at his face and whines.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Mulder tells him.  

Jackson shrugs.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, buddy,” Mulder says.  “But text next time.  Send a psychic message.  Postcard.  Skywriting.  Whatever.”

“I see why she likes you,” Jackson says.  “The dog needed to go out.”

“Daggoo,” Mulder says.

“Excuse me?” Jackson says.  It’s hard to think of him that way.  It’s hard not to call him William, especially when Mulder can see himself in that face.  Mulder wishes he could sling his arm around his boy, ruffle his hair, all that dad shit.  He didn’t know what he was giving up when he left.  

“Daggoo,” Mulder repeats.  “The dog.  Daggoo.  It’s a Moby Dick thing.”

“Call me Ishmael.”  Jackson nods.  “On an insane quest to reclaim your manhood.  I get it.”

“Scully named it,” Mulder says.  “Her dad - your grandfather - he was in the Navy.  It was their thing.  He called her Starbuck.”

“Like the coffee?” Jackson asks.

“Like the first mate in Moby Dick,” Mulder says.  “I take it you never actually read it.”

“Not even the Spark Notes,” Jackson says.  “I’m going to take this little guy outside.”

Mulder nods.  “I’m going to make some cocoa.  It helps me sleep.  I think it’s part of getting old.  You want some?”

“Okay,” Jackson says.  “It’s like eighty degrees outside, but why not.”

“That’s the spirit,” Mulder says.  He turns his back deliberately on Jackson as a sign of trust and gets the milk out of the fridge.  Instead of powdered packets, he reaches for a box of Abuelita and unwraps the tablet.  It clanks into the pan.  He’s learned to let it melt first, so he doesn’t aggravate his shoulder trying to whisk it into submission.  Growing older is ridiculous.  He expected he wouldn’t be able to fling himself after suspects the way he used to when he and Scully met, but he didn’t think making hot chocolate would potentially incapacitate him.  He pours in the milk and puts the carton back in the fridge.  Domestic life is much easier when all parties agree on where things are supposed to be.  At least the milk has never been a struggle.  Depending on how long Jackson stays, it might become one, but that’s a small price to pay for the opportunity to get to know his son.  Their son.  The Van de Kamps’ son.

He’s still whisking when Jackson returns, Daggoo panting beside him.

“If you’ve got any smoking to do,” Mulder says without turning, “keep it on the porch.  It’s been a dry summer.  Nobody wants any fires.”

Jackson unclips Daggoo’s leash.  “Noted.”  He settles into a chair.  Daggoo prances on his hind legs, trying to get into Jackson’s lap, and Jackson scratches behind his ears.  “That’s pretty chill for a professional narc.”

“You’re not in my jurisdiction,” Mulder says, whipping up a froth on the top of the cocoa.  He turns off the burner.  “I save my narc powers for breaking up global conspiracies that threaten all of humanity.”  

“Respect,” says Jackson.  Mulder pours the cocoa from the pan into two mugs and sets one in front of Jackson.  He puts the pan in the sink and runs water into it before he pulls up a chair for himself.   He thinks about telling Jackson that Scully used to smoke, just to shock him, but he’ll save that moment for her.  It would be easy to be overzealous, trying to catch up on all the years he’s missed.  His son isn’t a baby; he’s a young adult, and he’s been on his own.  He has to meet Jackson where he is, on Jackson’s terms, or he’ll probably vanish into the night like a heartbreaking vision.

“It seems like it’s a little late to pull the dad act anyway,” Mulder says.  “Look at you.  All grown up and manipulating minds.”

Jackson shrugs and sips at his cocoa.  He makes a face as it burns his tongue.  “It’s a living.”

“You know you’re going to have a sibling?” Mulder asks.  

“Yeah,” Jackson says.  “Congrats, I guess.”  

“We don’t have to do family stuff,” Mulder says.  He picks up his cocoa.  “You did show up here, though.  My psychology degree was a long time ago, but that seems to suggest you have some kind of interest.”

Jackson sighs.  “It’s not like this is easy, man.”

“I get it,” Mulder says.  “The last time I saw you, you were less than a week old.  I mean, the last time I saw you before your life of crime began.  I don’t have a lot of practice being a dad, and I was a shitty son myself.”  He takes a swallow of cocoa.  “Not that you’re a shitty son.”

“I am, though,” Jackson says.  “My parents are dead.”

“You didn’t kill them,” Mulder says.

“I didn’t save them,” Jackson counters.

“I know how that feels,” Mulder says.  “Believe it or not.”

“I can’t hear you,” Jackson says.  “Not like I can hear her.”

“My dad was shot by my former partner,” Mulder tells him.  “Not Scully.  A rat named Krycek, who was part of the whole global conspiracy that I kept pushing up against.  My mom killed herself.  I never called her back the last time she wanted to talk.  I don’t know if that would have changed anything.  Oh, and I shot my biological father for killing you, or so I thought at the time.  Glad I was wrong.  Also glad I shot him.”

“Fuck, man,” Jackson says, and pauses, as if he’s waiting for Mulder to scold him.  Mulder just gazes levelly at his son, trying to take in every detail.  

“You didn’t kill your parents,” he says. 

“Guess not,” Jackson says.  He wraps his hands around his mug even though it’s warmish in the kitchen.  “You gonna ask me why I’m here?”

“I figured you’d get to that,” Mulder says.

“You gonna wake her up?” Jackson asks.

“She doesn’t need to know you were here if you’re not planning on staying,” Mulder says, looking straight into Jackson’s eyes.  They’re shaped a little like his own.  It’s uncanny, after all those years of clones.

“You protect her,” Jackson says.

“We protect each other,” Mulder corrects.  “Twenty-five years and counting.  It goes both ways.”

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Jackson says.  “There wasn’t anywhere else to go.”

“We’ve got a spare room,” Mulder says.  “You’re always welcome.”

“Even if there’s a warrant out on me?” Jackson asks.

Mulder shrugs.  “I haven’t seen one.  It’s not like those DoD types haven’t come knocking before.”

“I guess,” Jackson says.

“I’m not trying to whip out my credentials here,” Mulder says, “but you ever seen one shot and faked your own death using his corpse?  And that was how far we were willing to go before we had kids.  I’m not gonna let anything happen to you if I can help it.”

“That’s hard core,” Jackson says.  

“You didn’t get it all from your momma,” Mulder says.  “Or your other parents.”

“If I stay, do I have to talk about it?” Jackson asks. 

“The fact we thought you were dead?” Mulder asks.  “Not yet.”

“That’s fair,” Jackson says after a moment.

“She’s going to be so happy to see you,” Mulder says.  “She cries at everything right now, by the way, so don’t take it personally.  I saw her get weepy at a commercial for paper towels the other day.”

“I’ll be happy to see her too,” Jackson says.  “Uh, thanks, I guess.  For not shooting me when I showed up at your house with no notice in the middle of the night, and, uh, picked your lock.”

“A skill every growing boy needs,” Mulder says.  “Trust me, kiddo, I’ve had a lifetime of stuff weirder than you to deal with.”

“That’s probably good,” Jackson says.  “I mean, you’re prepared, right?”

“As prepared as anyone can be for parenthood,” Mulder says with a wink.  He takes a long drink of cocoa.  It really is soothing.  “You ready for bed?  You got stuff?”

Jackson jerks his head toward a ratty backpack in the corner of the kitchen.  “Just that.  I might stay up for a while.  Not really tired.”

“TV remote’s in the basket,” Mulder says.  “Not too loud, okay?  Your mom needs her sleep, with the baby.”

“You sure you haven’t been practicing this dad stuff?” Jackson asks, with a lopsided grin Mulder recognizes.  

Mulder smiles.  “Only in my head,” he says.  He finishes his cocoa and puts his mug in the sink.  “Let me show you your room.”

They cleaned out his old study together, when Scully moved back in.  It’s a lot less cluttered now.  His clippings are in a filing cabinet and his books are on shelves.  There was enough room for a pull-out sofa bed, one of those IKEA creations that looks a little too modern for the space.  It’s pretty comfortable, though, or it was when they stretched out on it in the store.  Mulder pulls out the mattress and take the sheets out of the storage compartment.  He flips out the sheet, nodding to Jackson to take the other edge, and they make up the bed together.  

“Bathroom’s around the corner,” Mulder says.  “Extra pillows on the couch if you need ‘em.”

“Thanks,” Jackson says.      

“You’re welcome,” Mulder says.  “I mean it.  You’re welcome whenever.”  He turns.  “This old man is going back to bed.  See you in the morning.”

“Mulder?” Jackson says, and Mulder looks over his shoulder at him.  He can see the delicacy of Scully’s bone structure in Jackson’s face, and something of her graceful precision in the way Jackson moves.  “You’re not a shitty dad.”

“I’ll try to keep that streak going,” Mulder says.  “Good night, buddy.”

“Good night,” Jackson says.