#so i spent like 2-3 hours just commuting between my home & office

[lunaetis]

my muses at the back of my head : *poking and pulling at me to let them out so they can spend time with their loved ones on v-day* me : I AM WORKING AT LEAST WAIT UNTIL I CLOCK OUT GDI

[miseryinyou]

So it's been a snow day(s) for the past 48 hours in my neck of the woods. Not for me. But for most people.

We got about 2 feet of snow Tuesday overnight/Wednesday morning and the world shut down.

I currently live at home. Financially - it's a win. Rent is cheaper than what I could get elsewhere which makes it easier to pay off my student loans. In every other aspect it's a fucking nightmare.

I live with my mom (48) and my younger brother (24).

Because our family is dysfunctional af I have had MOST of the non-financial household responsibilities since the age of TEN. I mow the lawn 90% of the time. I do 90% of the dishes/taking out the garbage/vacuuming/kitchen cleaning etc.

When I complain about the unfair level of household work I do - I am told to "suck it up" OR "stop being so uptight".

Usually I just grit my teeth and think of the money I'm saving by living at home.

But yesterday it snowed. I still worked. I was able to work from home. But I worked.

My mom works for a school district so she had a snow day/day off. My brother works at a bank. They were closed due to snow - therefore he had the day off.

Me? I worked from 6:30am - 3:30pm.

I woke up at 3am. I usually work out for about 1h45min before work. I was convinced I was going into the office until about 6am. Therefore, I woke up an hour earlier than usual so I could shovel the driveway/dig out my car before work. At this point we had about 5 inches of snow. The shoveling took me about an hour (driveway/path to front door/sidewalk/dig out car).

All day. I worked. They were off. We got about 1.5 feet of snow between 7am and 1pm.

I came out of my room for lunch - the kitchen is a disaster. Crumbs all over the counter/dishes in the sink/food on the floor. I have 30 mins to eat so I quickly clean it and take my pre-prepped lunch into my room to eat.

I come out of my room after work. No one. Not ONE of the TWO able-bodied people WHO HAVE THE DAY OFF shoveled the driveway.

At this point it's going to be dark in about 1 hour. So I go outside after working 45 mins of overtime and shovel. It took me 2.5 hours. 1.5 hours ALONE was just digging out my car so I could drive to work the next morning. Also, it was garbage night. So guess who had to get the garbage together and pull it out to the curb? Me. Always me.

I'm annoyed. But whatever. It's not supposed to snow again. I'll deal with it. Tomorrow is a new day. It's not like I spent about 12 hours of my day working/shoveling. And another 2 working out. I'm not tired. It's fine.

But it's not fine. This morning I drove to work. The roads weren't great and my commute took me twice as long as usual.

My mom and brother? Still had the day off.

I come home after a stressful day and The HOLE I DUG FOR MY CAR. THE HOLE THAT TOOK ME 1.5 HOURS TO DIG is occupied by my brother's car. He didn't work. He had no reason to leave the house. He had no reason to get in his car in the FIRST PLACE.

So I had no choice but to park in the 2 FOOT SNOW BANK his car left behind.

Right there I started crying.

I drive a sedan. I have snow tires, sure. But the snowbank is the same height as my tires. I will have to work tomorrow. I was drifting and struggling for 10 minutes just to park after work. So back out to the road with my shovel I go. This time to dig ANOTHER hole for my car just so I can go to work tomorrow.

It's been such a bad week.

God. I'm like 10 minutes away from calling in sick tomorrow. But alas, my fucking family will probably be home (they're calling for freezing rain tonight) and frankly I'd rather work than be stuck at home with them tomorrow.

[rozinaaa]

Work Is A Place

This post was published yesterday, ironically, when I was at the office. To me, working from home is all well and good, but as of recently, I actually find it draining and exhausting to be on my own, especially as I've spent the past few months just cleansing my mind from music to be able to get some headspace. I completely agree with all of the points in that post, and yesterday was actually one of the best days in the office that I've had (after quite a few disappointing and depressing ones), since all of the right people (basically the ones that I get along with the most) were there, so to me, it was perfect. Although the commute can sometimes feel like a drag to me, having that one hour (in between my home and workplace) to get away with doing nothing whilst the train zips through rolling hills, tunnels, and towns definitely helps me get into work mode and unwind again, essentially acting as a buffer which I don't get when I shut down my laptop at the end of the day when I'm working from home. I think for my next job, I'd like to have a <1 hour commute (one way, on the train), where I can go to the office between 2-3 times a week, because getting a job that's decent and closer to where I live would make going to the office feel much easier for me. Another thing that I've realised is that physically going to work actually feels a lot better since I've known that I've actually gone to work, whereas working from home doesn't have that same feeling. Sure, working from home is easier since I don't have to get out of the house, but I've realised that it's made me lazy, not to mention that I've dealt with insane amounts of cabin fever. I think the main reason why my final year of university felt productive was because I kept a normal routine and because I physically went to a different building each day, even though my commute was literally just a five minute walk from my flat. However, the source behind that motivation to get out of the house pretty much everyday was due to fear itself (as the fire alarm in the student accommodation would randomly go off every other day, which meant that I was always on edge, and was always anticipating it in the back of my mind, to the point where the fear of loud, unexpected (and also traumatising) noises lead me to spend as little time in the flat as possible, since it was easier to not be in that building than to deal with that trauma and fear all the time), so although it was chaotic and basically consumed my soul at the time, I think it was actually a blessing in disguise, since it literally forced me to get out of my comfort zone, as well as encouraging me to work in a different place to the one where I stayed at night. I think having a designated space to spend the night (I would usually run down the flights of stairs of the anxiety inducing apartment complex at around 8 in the morning, and drag my feet back to it at around 7 in the evening) definitely did help me out, since I was able to clearly draw a line between my work and life, but ideally, I'd like to do this routine again without the psychological trauma, in which the commute is short, but long enough for me to be able to clearly distinguish work and leisure, so that physically going to a different place to work feels a lot more appealing. With that said, I've been learning to drive on and off for about 2 years now, to the point where it's getting ridiculous, since driving will definitely lower the barrier to entry for me, mainly because it will be easier to go anywhere at anytime instead of having to rely on public transport, since it isn't frequent enough for me to spontaneously decide that I want to work in a different place for once. Sure, I could just walk or ride a bike to places (I'd be able to consistently exercise, be outside, and reduce the need for a gym membership), but the UK (as I know it) tends to prioritise cars first, and the weather isn't that brilliant, because although walking and biking is doable in the spring and summer, it would be virtually impossible to do it in the winter.

[ofbuttsandbombs]

Back in 2016, Friends was the first sitcom I ever watched. It was funny and distracting and I had just begun college and my course was regarded as one of the toughest and my daily commute was over three hours total and I was little more than a tittering ball of stress and nerves.

I started watching Friends because, well, everybody was, and I needed to something to do on the train, bus and taxi that I had I to take to reach my uni.

Thus began my foray into the world of television.

I tore through the 'classics'. How I Met Your Mother and The Office and Scrubs and Parks and Rec and Modern Family and Community (interspersed between the rare non-sitcom like Once Upon A Time and Game of Thrones and The Americans) and then the newer ones too, Superstore and The Good Place and Schitt's Creek and of course, Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

I loved all of them. I still do. Something about the format of sitcoms is so comforting and entertaining to me. I loved them all equally, and I tore through each like I was getting paid for it.

An innocuous remark made by my best friend in the beginning of 2018 changed the course of my life.

"You've watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine, right? Rosa's bachelorette was so cool. If I ever get married, you better do something like that for me."

I couldn't remember Rosa's bachelorette. Watching nearly 50 shows over the past 2 years will jumble some stuff up for you.

"I'll keep that in mind," I told her, and when I went home, I typed in Rosa Diaz Bachelorette into the YouTube search bar.

That, my friends, was the beginning of the end.

I laughed through the bachelorette clip on YouTube. I laughed through the various compilations I saw next, as YouTube did its job of sucking me into a never ending video watching hell hole, the kind that ends with you watching Find Out How Many Cockroach Legs Are in a Bar of Chocolate at 3 AM.(in my case, it was something like Jake and Amy Turning Each Other On for 8 Minutes)

And for the very first time in my life, I decided to rewatch a show.

I've never rewatched any show. Not before then, and not now. Only one show has recieved that honour, and it is B99. I don't know what happened on this first rewatch. Suddenly, Noice became a part of my vocabulary, Title of your Sex Tape jokes were sprinkled into every conversation and Jake and Amy decided to march their way into my clown heart and brain and never left.

This random show hit me with an obsession so hard I couldn't think of anything else. If someone calculated how many hours I've spent daydreaming about Jake and Amy, my mother would probably burst into tears for "wasting my time and putting my future in jeopardy."

The last three years are a blur of studying, stressing and Brooklyn Nine Nine. I was at an internet-less nature camp during the Great Cancellation Saga of 2018, and came back home to the news that b99 had been cancelled and picked up again. I thanked my lucky stars I had missed it. I would not have dealt well with the cancellation news.

In the end of 2018, when multiple rewatches of Johnny and Dora and HalloVeen couldn't satisfy my brain's constant yearning for a hit of Peraltiago, I turned to fanfiction.

I've never looked back.

And now, after three seasons of watching live, after too much discourse about many things, after three years of drooling over Andy, after a gazillion months of hiatus- here we are.

The end of the end.

Obviously, I am sad and scared and angry and miserable and in denial and excited and on the edge of my seat and upset. I'd rather wait 10 years for a new season than have to deal with the fact that I'll never get to see a new episode. I'm just gonna wallow in my misery today. Because, yeah, we'll still have 8 seasons to re-watch, and so many fics to re-read but also, the series finale is upon us, and Brooklyn Nine-Nine is finally coming to an end.

It's hard to come to terms with this fact even when we all knew this day would come. But here it is at last, and we cannot do anything, except be sad and hurt and excited and also celebrate this funny little show that introduced us to a whole new world, to new people, to new friends. And though this chapter is now closing, it's always gonna be a part of my story.

I am so grateful to the various blogs on here that I could always count on for my daily dose of b99. The HCs and ficlets have really kept me going.

I will be incapacitated for today and for the better part of next week, if not longer. Off to wallow some more,

-A.

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 1-5

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 15k

chapter 1

It took Y/N longer than she had hoped to finally catch up to him. He seemed to go from the cute little boy with a bow tie who sat beside her in her kindergarten class to working for the FBI by the time she graduated high school. It wasn’t fair that he happened to be smarter than anyone on earth, causing him to test out of elementary school before she even got to know him.

Spencer Reid had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the sweetest personality to match. Y/N saw him around as he grew up, coming home to see his mom often and minding his business as he wandered around in his free time.

He liked to sit on the swings at the abandoned park across the street from her house, it was a place he would go to at the most random hours of the day for years on end. Every time he was in the area, he visited the swing. And She’d watch him from her window seat in her bedroom. Pretending to read, but really she was watching him read.

It was years of watching, from the ages of 13 to 18 when he was coming back and forth from working on his second Ph.D., and she was still trying to make it through high school.

But she never walked out there and talked to him, she knew nothing real about him other than his name and that he was smart. The town told rumours about him being an alien or a government experiment because there was no way a kid could be so smart, but she never believed them. She liked to keep to the idea that he was sweet, smart, and special.

He stopped coming to the swing for a while after they turned 18, her mother had said something about Spencer Reid’s mother being admitted to the nursing home she worked at and y/n drew the conclusion that he’d finally left the small Nevada town she was seemingly trapped in.

Y/N kept tabs with him online, as weird as it felt to her she had a strange sense of pride when it came to Spencer’s achievements. That was the kid she sat beside in kindergarten out there working for the FBI, saving lives and changing the world. It inspired her.

So sure enough, when she moved to Virginia to join the FBI academy it was the perfect opportunity to finally be on an even playing field with him. An excuse to reach out to him and catch up, get to know him. She was technically older than him, by 10 months, and yet somehow he seemed to feel unreachable, wiser and more of an adult than she ever would be.

At 28 she finally bumps into him again. She’s carrying boxes into her new apartment with help from a moving company when he leaves the apartment across the hall from her.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer Reid?” she said with the biggest smile spreading across her face.

“Hi?” he says, not having any clue who she is.

“You might not remember me, I’m Y/N Y/L/N we were in kindergarten together in Nevada?”

He takes a moment to think, she watches his eyes flutter as he recalls the memory to his mind. She is mesmerized by how his brain works, like a filing cabinet he can just pull memories out. “Oh, yes we sat together the first day and you got in trouble later that afternoon for adding water to the sand because I had said it was too dry to build a model of the Pyramid of Giza.”

Her smile gets even bigger, “yes! I hope this isn’t weird but I’ve kept up with you over the years, I’ve always thought it was so amazing that someone from my town was off doing incredible things! I can’t believe I’m moving in across from you that makes it look so much worse oh god, I promise I’m not stalking you!” She rambled anxiously.

He laughed, “it’s okay I believe you! I’m surprised honestly that you remember me, we were what? 5? That’s a good memory you must have?”

She walked over to him and out of the way of the men moving her boxes into her apartment, that’s what she was paying them for anyway. She set the box down on the floor beside herself to free her arms, “I think your first ever friend would leave an impact on your memory.”

“We did have a good bond before I was transferred out,” he recalls with a smile.

“Well,” she smiled right back, “I also work with the FBI if you want to get coffee before work on Monday and catch up? See if there’s a possibility of being friends once again?”

“Yeah!” he answers abruptly, “I leave around 7:15 normally and I always go to the little cafe down the road, what department are you in?”

“VICAP,” she said, “just a floor above the BAU, surprised I’m only running into you now”

“You sure you’re not stalking me?” he joked.

She shook her head lightly, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. “Promise, just inspired by you, that’s all.”

He chuckled to himself, almost shocked that such a lovely person would be inspired by him. “Well, thank you. I’ll let you get back to moving in and I will see you on Monday Y/N.” he said with a small wave and walked down the corridor.

She sighed to herself, this was going to be amazing.

---

Y/N had barely unpacked anything by the time Monday had rolled around. She spent most of her time working on her bedroom organization, leaving a mess of boxes everywhere else. Going through her closet to find the best outfit for her first-morning commute with Spencer.

Her job didn’t require as much fieldwork as he did, so she could wear anything she wanted to the office as long as it was professional. She settled on black flared dress pants, a nice white turtleneck, the watch her family gave her when she graduated from the academy and her cute healed wedge boots.

She grabbed her purse and wallet, ensuring she had her keys and badge in there before unlocking her safe and clipping her gun to her belt. She grabbed her go bag and coat and draped them over one arm, holding her purse in the other.

With everything she needed, she walked to her front door, turning off her alarm just to change the setting to protect her empty apartment. She closed and locked the door behind herself just as Spencer walked out into the hallway.

“Good morning Spencer,” she said, cheerful as ever.

“You’re awfully cheerful for this time of day,” he yawned after speaking.

“Late night?” she asked, joining him as he walked towards the building entrance.

“We had an emergency case this weekend that kicked my ass, I’ve only been home for 15 hours. Hopefully, today is just a desk day,” he yawned again. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re tired as well, from moving this weekend.”

“Oh I’m exhausted, normally I don’t leave till quarter to 8, living farther away now is going to suck a bit.”

“At least our building is nice,” he adds.

“It seems wonderful so far.” He held the door for her as they walked into the parking lot, he dug her keys from her bag, “do you want to take my car?”

“Sure, seeing as I don’t have a car, I normally take the subway,” he said softly, walking to the passenger side and opening the door as he heard the door unlock.

“Well if you want a ride every morning I don’t mind, even If you need rides to emergency cases,” she smiled softly.

Spencer insisted on buying her coffee, saying it was only fair for driving him. But really it was because he wanted to spoil her, ever since she said she was inspired by him his mind hasn’t been able to stop playing that sentence on loop. He’s completely enamoured by her, willing to do whatever it takes to get on her good graces. Not realizing she’s willing to do the same for him.

In no time she’s pulling up to the main building, both of them showing their badges before being allowed access into the parking structure of their building. Y/N parked close to the main elevator, having impeccable luck with getting that spot in the garage.

“We still have time before we’re officially on the clock, if you wanted to come meet my team?” He offered, hitting the button in the elevator for floor 3. His floor.

“I’d love to meet the legend that is Penelope Garcia,” she smiled.

“She is wonderful,” he agreed with a smile.

The elevator dinged and she felt her heart drop into her stomach thinking of how Spencer was going to introduce her. He walked with her towards the glass doors, holding them open for her as she walked into the bullpen.

All eyes were suddenly on Spencer and Y/N, so many faces she’s never seen before, and 2 she knows too well from her research on the BAU. She smiled lightly as she walked towards them all. Spencer not far behind her.

“Good morning,” Spencer smiled a small pressed-lipped smile. “This is agent Y/N Y/L/N, she works up in VICAP, she was one of my best friends in elementary school.”

She smiled, so that’s how. “Hello!” She waved, “It’s so nice to meet you all,”

“Derek Morgan,” the tall dark and handsome one reached his hand out for yours.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands sorry,” she said, grabbing her right middle finger with her left hand and smiling lightly.

He laughed, “wow pretty boy, how come you never told us you have a twin?”

“Do you not shake hands either?” She asked him, “we really do have a lot of catching up to do Spence.”

“Emily Prentiss, it’s lovely to see Spence bring in new friends.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve always admired the BAU, I’ve actually compiled a few of the cases you’ve worked on this year, I’m pretty good at finding patterns even the system overlooks.”

“Oh yes, Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve seen your name on all the emails, thank you you’ve sent some of the best-connected cases to us, you’ve brought justice to people who we would have never connected to cases,” JJ said enthusiastically, “I was actually just about to tell Hotch about the newest one you sent me.”

“It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’ve been carefully looking over this case for 2 years now I knew you’d all be able to help with it. It’s right up your ally,” she nervously laughed.

“You sent in the files on the family annihilator that was going after people he believed to be decedents of Cain from the bible right?” David Rossi asked.

She nodded her head and sighed, “yeah everyone told me it was a stretch to catch onto but when I noticed all the men were from the same online ancestry family tree I knew you guys needed to see it.”

“That was specifically interesting, the death of his own brother led him to seek revenge on the father of murder,” Spencer agreed.

“So what’s this new one you’ve brought us?” Derek asked.

“Oh, would you like to pitch it to us? We’re all here we can meet you in the briefing room before your shift starts upstairs?” JJ offered.

“Oh sure,” she smiled, finally it was her time to show off.

Soon enough, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia and Jenifer Jareau were all staring at you in the briefing room.

“In Wichita Kansas, there have been a string of murders over the last 6 years that have all been incredibly, creepily similar,” she started explaining as she handed out the case files to everyone.

“Each victim is female, 16 to 24, they’ve all been strangled with rope while completely naked, signs of brutal sexual assault, binding and torture. They’ve all been found wrapped in shower curtains and placed in various public locations. Clearly a sign of remorse with how he keeps them covered but still a taunt that we can’t find him even now that he’s 6 victims deep.”

“Clarise Richardson, victim number 1 was raped, strangled with rope and left by an underpass. She was found in 1998, the M.E said she was dead 16 hours when they found her, COD was asphyxiation. Her family reports she was last seen at least 73 hours before she was found. So he kept her for a while. There were fibres under her nails of green carpet, either she was held at someone's house or in a van with carpet like they had in the 70s and 80s.”

“Were there any fingerprints or DNA on the bodies?” Prentiss asked.

“Yes, there was a sperm sample retrieved on victim number 5, Sharon Flynn. Most likely he wore a condom for the rest of his rapes and he wasn’t in the system already. Either he never ejaculated in earlier rapes before he grew to murder or his victims never came forward before 1998.”

“which is highly likely, we saw in the EARs case in California how hard it was to get the men and women who were raped to even come forward. There were 4 confirmed cases in the news before more came forward with similar stories. It’s seen as a shameful thing when in reality it’s just giving them more power if they believe they’ll never be caught.” Spencer explained.

“Yes, it’s very hard to come forward when it happens to you,” she agreed before quickly hanging subject. “I’ve been searching for any rapes in the area with similar MO, choking, BDSM, ropes, vans with green carpet, and I’ve found 3 women who claimed to be raped by a man at festivals the late 70’s who had an orange van with green carpet who bonded them up in a very intricate form of bondage that tightened every time they squirmed to entice them not to move. And from my research, that's the same pattern of rope as the rope burn on the 6 bodies we have.”

“All 6 of them are fairly similar it’s just their dumpsites that sets them apart. He didn’t have one strict area that he stuck to, he seems to have no problem travelling to them.” Emily said, flipping through the files.

“I’m thinking he has a job the requires him to still use his van. Like a travelling plumber, a phone or computer tech, home surveillance or maybe even he’s with Jehovah's witness or the Mormon church. It would explain him being able to get into these women’s houses and neighbourhoods long enough to pick someone, learn their schedule and grab them.” Y/N explained.

“Garcia, can you look into those businesses, as well as independent contractors, satellite companies, mailmen, and anyone else who might have been on the job by the victim's houses on the dates and times they were last seen,” Hotch asked.

“Absolutely, I’ll also run the DNA samples in my other databases.”

“I was about to ask you to do that, I think he might have children. There is a very large gap between the rapes and the jump to rape and murder, if you could run the saliva sample from victim 3 that's on her neck with any foster system or genealogy company to see if he has a son or uncle we can trace his sample to?”

“That's a great idea, I’ve never thought to do that,” Garcia smiled. “I like you, you’re a smart cookie!”

“Looks like we’re headed to Wichita,” Hotch said. “Do you think VICAP would be mad if we stole you for a few days? You have more connections with the Wichita police than we do, they might cooperate more If they know a friendly face.”

“Absolutely, let me grab my go-bag from upstairs!” Y/N jumped up, “I’ll be right back down!”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, And with that, she was out the door.

“Reid if you don’t marry her I will,” Penelope said softly.

“Okay.” He blushed.

—

She took a seat beside Reid on the jet, the two of them chatting amongst themselves for a while before they were called for the second briefing.

“So local PD think they have a recent victim from this weekend they want us to check out,” Penelope said over video chat. “she’s a little different than the others. Katie Newton, 27 was found bound to her bed, already having passed and was being assaulted when her husband came home. He screamed at the guy who was only wearing a ski mask and “tight-y white-y’s” as the husband described. He grabbed his bag and clothes with him but he left her tied up with the little time he had to knock the husband out of the way and run out.”

“Did he get any other identification marks on the unsub?” Y/N asked.

“He said he was pasty white, 5’8 and he didn’t talk. He didn’t scream, nothing, he just grabbed his things and ran. He does however remember he had a very large brown birthmark on his chest covering the right nipple down to his stomach.”

“Okay that’s good to know, why do they think it’s our guy?” Rossi asked.

“Blood found on the rope she was tied up with can match back to 13 different women. 6 of the murders that Y/N brought to us, 1 of the rapes she found and 5 other break-in and rapes of other women in the area.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered to herself.

“Well done on finding this one Y/N, this one is going to be big.” Morgan complimented her with a smile.

“Thanks,” she smiled back, “I didn’t expect any of this when I connected the 6 of them originally. This is insane.”

“have you ever been in fieldwork like this?” Hotch asked.

“At the academy, I was combat trained, I have all my clearances and I’m a great shot. I’m good on my feet and I tested perfectly on hostage talk down.” She tried not to brag but this was almost as important as a job interview.

“Well damn,” Morgan nodded in approval. “We might just have to seal you full time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all!”

“Good,” hotch smiled, something he didn’t do often. “I’m going to send you and Reid to the M.E to see what else we can find out about these new break-in homicides. Prentiss and Rossi, I want you to travel to the last dumpsite and the latest crime scene to see what else could connect them. Morgan and JJ come with me to the station to set up communication with the local PD and media we don’t need them naming him like they did with BTK.”

“Garcia, would you also widen the search for anyone convicted of sexual misconduct, flashing, stalking, break-ins where underwear was stolen or and peeping toms? Go all the way back to the 70s. If any of them are now working for any businesses that have vans and require him to travel. This guy has to have a mistake somewhere that you will find.” Y/N asked one last time.

“Got it, genius girl, over and out.”

—-

The bureau had the funds for rooms for the main team, meaning Y/N had to double up with someone and she had to decide who once they landed and headed to the hotel.

“It wouldn’t be weird if we got a room with two queen beds right?” She asked Spencer, “it would give us a chance to catch up in our downtime like a sleepover we never had as kids.” She nervously rambled in the SUV as Reid drove.

“No I don’t mind, It would be fun if we get any sleep in this case. This one seems like it will be a bit of a brain rattler.” Reid agreed with a soft pressed-lipped smile.

They booked their rooms, dropped off their things and all headed their separate ways. The M.E’s office was close to the police station, the two of you in an SUV followed Hotch, JJ and Morgan in another down the road.

The bodies had all been cremated or buried shortly after being found, there wasn’t anything fresh enough to examine for them but they did have access to all the information on all the cases.

“I’ve been the medical examiner here for the last 30 years,” the nice old man said as he led them down the hall to the storage room. “These ones have all been some of the worst cases I’ve seen here. So much so that I keep them all in their own boxes just in case a day like today ever happens.”

“That is very helpful for us thank you so much!” She smiled at him as he held the storage door open.

“They’re all labelled by name and date. If you have any questions about tests or need me to run more with what we have left just give me a holler!” He said as he left the room.

Y/N sighed. “Why do I feel like this is going to take a million years?”

“I can read 20,000 words a minute, it will take me 3 hours to read everything in this room. Luckily we only need to read these few boxes.” Spencer pointed at the wall.

“Okay boy wonder, stop showing off,” she smiled, taking the Victim # 5 case box down first. “She was the first one I put into the system when I joined VICAP.”

“Is that why you sent this case to JJ?”

“Partly,” she sighed again. “There was the emotional attachment of this being my first case but there were just too many connections I knew you guys could bring justice to her family. She was so young.”

Spencer opened a box and she watched as his eyes darted across the pages as he flipped through them. She was mesmerized by how he could do that. But he was probably even smarter than god so it made sense.

“This is interesting. They found LSD in the system of the 3 rapes from back in the day which isn’t that uncommon for the time period or the places where they were abducted, but what’s strange is the amount. This is enough LSD to make someone go insane, no one in their right mind would willingly take this much LSD?” Spencer said.

“They were all found 2 days later dehydrated and alone in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way of knowing if more women didn’t have this happen and died where he left them.”

“He is probably in his 50’s now. How fit would he have to be to still be able to break into houses and rape and murder women?” Spencer asked.

“Well that might be just why he stopped dumping, he might have a bad back and can't lift the dead weight. He is more willing to get caught in someone's house so that he doesn’t have to do the dumping, he can just leave after. 5 of the 6 home invasions were with women who lived alone or husbands who worked night shifts. So they wouldn’t be home. He watched them long enough to know when he could successfully get away with this.” Y/N explained as she flipped through boxes.

“And the rope technique our last victim was found in is exactly the same as the rope burns as the others you’re correct,” Spencer complimented her. “He might have ex-girlfriends or even an ex-wife who he would have tried BDSM on and she didn’t like it, so now he feels like he has to do it this way. When we deliver the profile we should alarm the public about him to draw out any women who would have willingly tried something with our unsub.”

Y/N nodded as he spoke, agreeing with everything. “That could have even been the original stressor, all the women are pretty vanilla, I talked to the husbands over the phone and the original rape victims. They weren’t into trying anything like this in their free time. 2 of the rapes were also virgins. They all had good jobs and good grades, they were outstanding, low-risk members of the community. He might be getting revenge on the women who wouldn’t indulge in this fantasy.”

“He probably feels a lack of control in his personal life, maybe he even has a more dominating wife who he feels he can't stand up to so this is how he deals with it.” Spencer agreed.

“Let's go see Hotch, I think we should deliver the profile.”

—-

They walked into the police station, gliding through the doors like they owned the place. Emily and JJ watched as they walked over to hotch with the exact same energy. Both speaking with their hands and rambling about what they had found.

“So he’s a fit, early 50’s, white male. Married, probably with kids, works with or owns a van. He has a problem with authority in his own life, he feels like he is in a submissive role all day be it from a female boss who’s always on his ass or his wife. It’s possible he even has only daughters and no sons. He feels emasculated, surrounded by women, which is why he started taking these women originally to rape them with BDSM-like acts to finally have that control he lacks in his everyday life.” Y/N explained. “He wouldn’t be very handsome, he would have issues speaking with most women, he keeps to himself, he might have even failed out of jobs involving the police or security, he wants to be in a place of power but he has none of the social skills to accomplish what he wants. I would even look into local army cadets or boy scouts he could be a very old member or the father of someone in one of those groups. His affinity for binding them up and the types of ropes he used are very common BDSM ropes but the knots are reminiscent of ones my brothers would do in at Navy cadets.”

“You got all that from the M.E?” Derek said, shocked at how good she was at this.

“I’ve been staring at his work for 2 years, every time a case from this town came in I checked into it to tie it to this guy. I don’t know what it is but this one gets to me, like BTK or Ed Kemper, these men have specific vendettas against women, they need to dominate women because they have a strong mother or wife in their presence. I know the type of man he is and I want to see him rot in prison.”

Spencer walked over to another table, spreading out a map and beginning to look at the geographical profile. Making down the 3 rapes and their dumpsites, the 6 abducted women and their dumpsites as well as the 6 home invasion homicides. Narrowing down on the geographical profile to find his comfort zone.

Y/N stood beside him watching him draw perfect circles over the map, placing a dot right in the middle. “He either lives or works in this area. Everything is within 35 miles of this area.”

Hotch took out his phone and called Garcia, placing the phone on the table with the speaker on. “Hello my lovelies, what can I do for you?”

“Have you narrowed anything down?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, I have 117 orange vans originally bought in the late ’70s that are still registered to men in this area all between the ages of 45 and 60. 63 of them work in home security, 13 of those have a son in boy scouts and 4 of those have prior peeping tom allegations.” She explained.

“Any of the 4 look interesting?” Hotch asked.

“We have Travis Johnson, 55 he works for Acorn Security, he was doing service in each town that a murder took place the same week they went missing. He is married and has been since 1980 right when he stopped raping and his 5th and last daughter was born the same week that Clarice Richardson was murdered in 1998. They took in a foster child to give him a boy 3 years ago who is in boy scouts, and has all his badges in you guessed it, knot tying.”

“Do we have his home and work address?” Morgan asked.

“Yes of course I do chocolate thunder, they’ve been sent to you already. I’ve also sent a list of his appointments for today, he might be on the hunt.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan smiled at the phone.

“It's what they pay me the big bucks for.”

She hung up and hotch immediately started handing out bullet-proof vests. “Time to catch him.”

Spencer rested a hand on your back as he passed you, smiling as if to say 'good job'.

Y/n grabbed her vest and her go-bag and quickly changed into something more suited for chasing after a runner. It almost always came to that in her experience. She came back out in jeans and a white long sleeve shirt tucked in, her vest on and her hair up. She placed her earpiece in and straightened out her gun. Making sure the clip was full and adding an extra one to her vest.

“Ready?” She asked Spencer as he tightened his vest.

“Let’s do this.”

They split up, Prentiss Rossi and JJ went to his house while Reid, Morgan, Hotch and Y/L/N took a squad of local cops to where the unsub was supposedly doing his house calls.

They slowly drove through the neighbourhoods, lights off just paroling up and down the streets. They saw an orange van parked on the side of the street, they watched as the unsub got out of the driver's seat, grabbing a bag and walking up to a woman’s house. Slowly they all got out of the SUV, Morgan and Hotch taking the back while Reid and Y/L/N took the front door. They waited for confirmation that he wasn’t alone in this home, before going in.

They could hear a woman talking and then there was a scream, “I’m going in,” Y/L/N said, Kicking the door down before Reid took the lead, Y/N following behind him.

“Travis Johnson? FBI!” Spencer yelled.

The two of them cleared the main room, working their way to the hallway, Reid let her take the lead to the bedroom where they heard the struggle.

“Travis put down the rope and let her go,” Y/N said slowly as he walked into the room, gun pointed.

“And why should I?” He panicked, holding the woman against his chest, she was crying gripping onto the rope he was holding tightly around her throat.

“I’m a huge fan of your work!” Y/N said. “I work for VICAP, I’m the one who had to put each and every single one of your victims in the system. I know exactly how much you’re into control and BDSM, it’s honestly surprising that you have to force these women into it, why are women so against letting a big strong man control them anymore?” She said softly as she lowered the gun and her voice.

“You know, I’ve always thought BDSM was super sexy, I’d love to be tied up and taken control of, if you put down the rope how would you like to have a willing participant one day?” She teased him, getting closer and closer, she could see he was rock hard. He loosened the rope and pushed her to the side, stepping forward towards Y/N who quickly flipped him to the floor and cuffed him.

“Travis Johnson you are under arrest for the rape and murder of over 12 women. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one will be appointed for you. If you chose to share anything without a lawyer present you have the right to stop at any time. Is that clear?”

She single handily lifted him to his feet and dragged him out of the room as the men in the hall just watched with awe.

“You’re a little bitch you know that?” The unsub said as he struggled in her grasp.

She slammed him against the hallway wall, pressing right up against his back, whispering in his ear “oh so now you have a big mouth huh, finally feel like you can talk to a woman who isn’t tied down? I’m in control here, you’re my little bitch you hear me? Only good boys get to speak to me.” She said as she pulled him back off the wall and handed him off to local PD. “Have fun being a little bitch in prison Travis.”

She stood there with her arms crossed catching her breath as the adrenalin shook through her body.

“Well done Y/L/N,” Hotch and Morgan put their fists out to give her props.

“How would you like to join the team for good?” Hotch asked? “we’ve been looking for an extra hand.”

“Absolutely!”

—

They were going to spend the night in Wichita, all agreeing to spend the night getting drinks at the local bar suggested by the PD. Piling into the SUV all together with Spencer offering to DD.

“How much time have you put into Travis?” Prentiss asked in the back seat beside Y/N.

“Sharon Flynn was the first case I ever put into my system 2 years ago. Her case looked so gruesome and evil it never left my mind. So then when Alice Webster, number 6 came in I did some more digging and found the 4 before Sharon and the 3 rapes, I knew it was cold for a while but something about him always stuck with me. And for some reason last week when I emailed the info to JJ out of the blue I had a gut feeling he was at it again.” Y/N explained.

“It’s a special talent to just feel when something is wrong.” JJ smiled back at them.

“I’ve always been, not fascinated, by serial killers but more interested in the chase of justice.” She explained, “if that makes sense. I love puzzles and finding answers and at least this way the end result is families finding peace.”

They pulled into the parking lot, all of them finding their way into the bar before the ladies went to the bathroom to freshen up.

“So Y/N,” Prentiss said, taking her phone out and calling Penelope. “The ladies of the BAU are very close, so welcome to our little group.”

“exactly.” Penelope said over the phone, “welcome to the group you’re going to fit right in!” She cheered.

“Thank you, VICAP was not a tight-knit group like y’all are. I’m extremely excited to get to know you all more.” Y/N smiled as she straightened her shirt out in the mirror.

“So you and Spencer?” JJ asked.

“We were in the same kindergarten class,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I thought he was going to be my best friend and then he took some test and was bumped into 4th grade. By the time I was in high school he had already finished his second Ph.D.”

“So you never kept up with each other?” Prentiss asked.

She shook her head. “I knew of him, my mom is the Activities Organizer at the home his mom is at, he used to go to the park across from my house, he now lives across the hall from me and works with me. I think we were always supposed to be friends but it wasn’t the right time till now.”

“Sounds like you have a crush,” Penelope teased through the phone.

“I do.” She smiled to herself. “I think I always have.”

“If pretty boy was here he’d say that there is a statistical likelihood that because you’ve been interested in him for longer than 3 years you’re most likely in love with him and you'll never not be.” Prentiss explained, “I heard him say that to Hotch once.”

She nodded along, “I guess I just need to get him to fall in love with me now.”

“It won't be that difficult.” JJ placed her hand on Y/N’s back and they all made their way out of the bathroom smiling.

The men were all sitting together at a table with everybody’s drinks already waiting.

“We didn’t know what you liked,” Spencer said as Y/N sat beside him. “So I said I’d go get whatever you want.”

“Or we can go up to the bar together.” She smiled.

The two of them got up and walked to the bar, the rest of the team watched them.

She leaned against the bar, ordering her drinks and pressing in close to Spencer. “It’s been so nice getting to spend time with you.” He said softly.

She was handed her drinks before she could even respond. Taking her tequila shot there and bringing her margarita back to the table as Spencer followed swiftly behind her.

They all drank and exchanged case stories from within and beyond the BAU, Spencer was able to add a lot of input but he was always cut off. Y/N leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “you can tell me all your facts later I really want to hear them.” She smiled so softly Spencer felt his heart about to burst in his chest.

Emily left the group to go flirt with the bartender, JJ was on FaceTime in the SUV with Will, Rossi had disappeared with a local woman and Hotch and Morgan were exchanging childhood stories over a beer in the corner.

The bar was playing old, slow music, almost everyone had filtered out but there were still older local couples hanging out and dancing in the middle of the room.

“Do you dance?” Y/N asked Spencer.

“I can try.”

She took his hand and led him to the floor. Drunk on the alcohol and his touch as she slipped his hands around to her back, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head on his chest. She felt his cheek rest on the top of her head as the two of them just swayed in a circle together.

“Do you have any other memories of me?” Y/N asked him softly.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You lived across the street from the park, and your mom works at the nursing home. You have 2 younger brothers who have always looked older than you. They would come and go when I was sitting on the lone swing and I’d always see you in the window reading. I knew you were my age but it still never felt right for me to talk to you when I was in university.”

“I watched you every time you were on the swings, you looked so peaceful. You read at least a book a day every time you were out there and it became so special to me seeing you there every weekend.” She explained.

“The world works in mysterious ways.” He explained.

She held him as close as she could. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect her day to go like this. She expected coffee and a weird goodbye in the elevator and staring at a computer screen all day. Somehow she ended up in Spencer's arms in a different state after having caught the serial killer that's haunted her dreams for years.

He rubbed his thumb lightly over her back, “do you want to go back to the hotel? We have an early flight.” He whispered.

“Yeah,” she smiled pulling back but reaching down to hold his hand as they walked over to Hotch and Morgan.

They drove home quietly, everyone in the back was happily drunk and tired. They parked and wandered up to their rooms, saying goodbye at their doors and disappearing into their rooms.

Spencer let her take the bathroom first, changing into her PJ’s and then he did the same. She laid in her bed, facing his as he sat up and read.

“Can I come lie beside you?” She asked, knowing exactly how needy she sounded.

He nodded, pulling the sheet back so she could slip right in. She laid on her side and just looked up at him. Absolutely astounded that she was with him.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Spencer asked, putting his book down and sliding down the bed to be on her level.

“Yeah?” She said nervously.

“Today you said it’s hard for people to come forward after they are assaulted, it sounded like personal experience and I wanted you to know if you need anyone, I’m always available for you.” He explained.

“Oh,” her face dropped. “I was 12, he was 15. You were in high school at the same time as him. I don’t know if you’d remember him, his name was Christopher.”

Spencer nodded along as she spoke. “When my mom finally went back to work she didn’t trust me watching my brothers alone so her friend offered to babysit us during the days. Her foster son took advantage of me the whole summer and when my parents finally found out he went into Sophomore year and told everyone that the nerdy girl who looks like bugs bunny was obsessed with him, that I stalked him and that anything I said about him wasn’t real.”

“I’m so sorry.” He rubbed his hand over her shoulder to soothe her.

“It’s okay, they used to call me bugs bunny because of my overbite. I used to rest my front teeth on my front lip and they would throw carrots at me,” she explained further.

“It all makes sense now,” he said softly.

“What does?”

“When I was 13 the seniors had a cheerleader invite me onto the football field and convinced me to strip down to my underwear, she was about to kiss me when all the football guys ran out and beat me up, they tied me to the goal post and the one said ‘we should really hook you up with bugs bunny, you losers would be perfect together.’ And they left me there all night long.”

“Oh Spencer I am so sorry,” she cuddled in close to him, placing her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I think we went through our traumas separately all these years because something bigger than us knew we’d need each other one day.”

“When we get back to Virginia, would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked.

“I would want nothing more.” She hugged him a bit tighter.

They stayed like that for a while until Spencer felt Y/N slip into the night's slumber. He quietly reached for the lamp, turning it off and readjusting himself under Y/N’s grasp.

He fell asleep not so long after. Both sleeping soundly for the first time in a long time.

Chapter 2

They had 3 back to back cases once they arrived back at Quantico. They travelled from DC to California to North Carolina within 2 weeks of Y/N working with the BAU.

Meaning she had not yet gone on that date Spencer asked her out on.

“If we get another call as soon as I reach that elevator I am leaving and not coming back. I am exhausted,” Emily said as she packed her bag and all but sprinted for the door.

“I hope my car still runs, it’s been parked here for so long now,” Y/N added and she walked towards the door. “You coming Spence?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car,” he said with a smile as he waved her off.

Emily and Y/N waited for the elevator, Penelope and JJ quickly followed behind them with their bags in their hands. Penelope’s heels clicked as fast as they could against the floor as she tried to catch up.

“Girls night?” JJ asked, “Will said Henry is asleep and he’s about to go to bed too, so I’m free for a bit?”

“I have to go home, I’ve barely moved into my new apartment, I still have to unpack,” Y/N explained.

“How about we come have some wine and help you?” Emily offered.

“If I’m being honest, I kinda want some alone time with Spencer.” She blushed bright red.

“Oooooo,” Penelope and JJ teased.

“It’s about time someone gave Spencer the attention he deserves,” Emily laughed.

“Believe me he’s going to get too much attention now that I live across the hall from him, work with him and carpool with him,” she giggled right back. “Has he never had a girlfriend before?”

“Not that we know of,” JJ said, “he’s very quiet.”

“Have you?” Penelope asked, “dated before that is?”

“oh no, I’ve never dated anyone before, I haven’t even kissed anyone in years,” she said feeling bashful and embarrassed.

“I think that's what Spencer needs though,” Emily added, “He needs someone on the same level as him all ‘round, you two match in every sense it’s almost perfect.”

“He’s probably the only man who doesn’t make me feel scared like I want my first real love to be with someone I feel safe with, I don’t think I could do anything with like, Morgan or Hotch or any men like them. They’re nice, yeah but the aggressive authority side isn’t something I’m comfortable around outside of work.” She explained.

“Yeah, Spencer is a sweetheart. I think that’s why I didn’t end up with him honestly.” JJ said softly, “Gideon tried to hook us up years ago cause we were the youngest on the team, but I do crave that authority outside of work.”

“It’s probably because you’re in power here. You handle the media, you wear the pants and you get shit done,” Y/N said, “you want to go home and be taken care of by a man who knows how to run a household.”

“Exactly!” JJ laughed.

“I want to be taken care of, yes, but I rather be the caretaker at home. I just want someone who will do their own thing with me in the same room, to kiss me before we go to bed and make sure I know they love me.” Y/N said softly, only picturing a life with Spencer as she said it.

The elevator never moved the whole time they were in there, it dinged and opened to Spencer and Morgan waiting. “You guys are that tired you didn’t even make it to your cars?” Morgan teased.

“didn’t even push the button actually,” Y/N chimed in.

“We were having girl time,” Penelope smiled.

“well let’s go home finally,” Morgan and Spencer walked in, pressing the button to the garage and riding down in silence.

Spencer waited for Y/N to exit the elevator last before walking with her to her car. She unlocked it and got in, watching and waving as her new friends pulled out of the garage.

“Ready?” She asked, pulling out as soon as she saw Spencer nod his head with his cute little pressed-lip smile.

They drove home in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet for the first time in weeks. The drive was quick, 30 minutes in the cold, dark, Virginia wilderness.

She parked in their parking lot, yawning as she turned the car off. She grabbed her purse from the back seat and made her way inside with Spencer.

“You going to sleep?” She asked him when they reached her door.

“Probably not, my brain is still too caught up in the cases,” he said honestly.

“Would you like to come in for some tea? To calm down before bed?” She offered as she unlocked her door.

She stepped inside, unlocking the alarm with the 4 digit code. Spencer tried his best not to listen but he failed, he’ll remember the sound of the code forever now.

She flicked on the light and looked around at the mess she left in her living room. “God I forgot it’s a mess in here,” she groaned.

Spencer followed her inside, following her lead and dropping his bag on the floor. He watched as Y/N walked around the house with her hand on her gun, clearing each room to make sure it was still safe.

“Sorry, I live alone, I don’t take any chances,” she said as she came back into the room.

She unlocked her safe and placed her work gun inside, closing it and spinning the lock right after. She let out a deep sigh, stretching her arms out over her head. “It’s so nice to be back in this mess.”

“I can help you unpack this weekend?” Spencer offers.

“If you want to that would be nice, I’ll order us some take out too.”

She picked up the boxes on her couch and moved them to the floor, she cleared off her coffee table and took the lamps out of the box in the corner. She plugged them into the wall and set them on the end tables. Luckily her furniture was in place all she had to do was put out all her little trinkets, books and photos.

Spencer took a seat on her couch, opening a box with mugs and cups, taking them all out of their bubble wrapping and setting them on the coffee table.

Y/N managed to find her kettle, as well as the box of random food she brought from her old cupboard. She set out a variety of teas and digestive biscuits.

Spencer slowly brought the mugs over, placing them in the cupboard of Y/N’s choosing, making sure he left 2 mugs out for them.

“Can I have a green tea?” Spencer asked softly.

“Of course, is it your favourite?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I would like some caffeine but I’m not interested in having a coffee, so this is a good middle ground.”

“I’m not a fan of most hot drinks, that's why I drink ice coffee in the mornings,” Y/N poured the hot water into both cups, leaving room for milk in both mugs just in case. “But, Orange Pekoe is my favourite.”

She placed a tea bag in each mug and handed Spencers to him.

She watched him add a little sugar to his mug before picking it up and returning to the sofa. She followed him shortly after adding milk and sugar to her own, as well as a plate of cookies.

She sighed as she settled in to the couch. “Going to try my hardest to manifest a full weekend off, with no cases, if my spirit guides loved me they will listen.” She jokes.

“You’re spiritual?” He asks.

“A little?” She shrugs, “I’m very into natural medicine, lunar cycles, manifesting and affirmations. Basically what would be considered a witch back in the day.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I had a pretty invasive surgery when I was 17, and because of the body trauma, I developed fibromyalgia. And there really aren’t any answers or explanations for it so I had to turn to something to bring me peace and pain relief.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s okay, eating right, taking my supplements, sleeping and exercise help. Basically, if I take care of myself my body will thank me,” she huffed out a small laugh. “It’s annoying waking up in pain randomly for no reason. I rather wake up sore from taking down an unsub, at least then, the pain is more like a reward, you know?”

Spencer nodded along and smiled softly, “I’m glad you found something that helps you.”

“How about you? I’m guessing you’re a science-only man?”

He laughed, “yes.”

“So do you believe in soulmates?” She asked on a whim.

“In the scientific sense of the word yes. I believe when the big bang happened, all the atoms, electrons and particles that split to make the universe as we know it, still exist in us today. Who’s to say that they don’t pull back to each other, causing a cosmic connection,” Spencer explained softly, his voice low as he explained himself.

Y/N set her drink down, moving in closer to him on the couch. “And how do you know when you’ve met your other half?” She asked. Her voice was just as low.

Spencer set his mug down as well, he placed his warm hand on her cheek, “I think everything would just make sense with them. They’d orbit each other's lives for so long, observing and acknowledging one another and finally one day they’ll connect.”

He leaned in and pressed his perfectly soft lips against hers. She reached her hand around the back of his neck and held him into the kiss. Breathing in deeply through her nose, trying to keep the moment forever.

She pulled back, her breathing was deep as she opened her eyes to look into his. “If you weren’t just explaining the big bang to me, I’d think that was it.”

He laughed at her joke, making both of their hearts soar. She pressed him back against the sofa, adjusting themselves so that she was lying partially on top of him as they cuddled in her crowded living room.

They could hear the sound of the world going on around them. The subtle hum of the subway below them. The distant car horns, someone upstairs was walking around in their apartment.

They were completely quiet then, just cuddled up in their own world without any distractions. The two of them let their hands wander each other as they laid there.

Y/N slowly sat up, peeling herself out of Spencer's grip. “Do you want to spend the night here?”

“I’m just going to run across the hall and get ready for bed, I can lock up when I come back?” He said softly.

“Okay, the button with the person inside the house is the one you hold down on the alarm system after you lock both locks,” she explained before standing up and walking into her bedroom.

She changed into a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. She brushed her teeth and hair, throwing it up in a little bun. She took out her contacts, replacing them with her glasses. She washed her face, watered her plants and sat down in her bed finally.

She had her hand on her night side drawer, where she keeps her other gun, just in case the person coming into her house wasn’t Spencer. But then she heard the alarm system arm, both locks clicked, the sound of dishes being placed in the sink and finally the sound of a lamp being clicked off.

Spencer slipper clad feet against the hardwood floor is all she heard as he walked into her room. He took the right side of the bed, wearing his PJ bottoms and a regular t-shirt. It was really the first time she was him so dressed down.

She settled down into the bed, she put her glasses on her side table, plugged in her phones and turned out the light. Spencer spooned into her, cuddling in tight and holding her against his chest.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” She whispered.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

She didn’t fall asleep right away. She basked in the glory that was Spencer Reid’s warm embrace. The feeling of his breath against her neck and his hand on her stomach.

“I love you.” Was the last thing she thinks she heard before she finally fell asleep.

—

She woke up to her phone ringing. She reached over to the nightstand and clicked talk. “SSA Y/L/N,” she said.

“Hey, it’s Penelope.”

“What’s up?”

“Not a case don’t worry, I was just wondering if I could stop by with some iced coffee and breakfast sandwiches to help you unpack?” She asked way too cheerfully for whatever time it was.

“Uh yeah just give us a chance to wake up, can you come by in 30?” She said as she rubbed her eyes, waking up.

“Us?”

“Uh, yeah, Spencer came in for tea and slept on the couch,” she lied.

“No I didn’t,” he groggily chimed in from where he was cuddled into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Right okay, so I’ll bring Spencer some breakfast too then,” she said before hanging up.

Y/N placed the phone back on her night table, settling back into Spencer’s embrace.

“Why’d you lie?” He asked.

“Didn’t know if I had your consent to tell her about us yet,” she whispered into his hair as she placed kisses on his head.

“Morgan told me if I didn’t kiss you last night, he’d make me do another round of physical evaluations,” he smiled against her skin. “He wanted to win the bet everyone set to see who would kiss who first.”

“So you just helped the guys win?”

“Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch were betting for me to kiss you first,” he admitted.

“Well, that means Rossi, Garcia and JJ think I’m the one wearing the pants here. Good to know,” she giggled.

“You can wear the pants,” he said as he shifted his weight to look up at her, “as long as I get to take them off later.”

“Well, Dr. Reid, I never thought you’d have it in you,” she was pleasantly surprised.

“When I get comfortable around someone I’m a lot different than I am at work,” he explained, “I heard what you said about needing someone to take care of who still wants to take care of you.”

She blushed, “of course you did.”

He leaned down to kiss her jaw and down her neck. “I think we can work something out,” he whispered.

Her breathing hitched. She couldn’t believe the complete 180º his personality just took, and she wasn’t complaining. All the moisture left her mouth as she just nodded her head in agreement.

“We should get up before she gets here,” he said, kissing her one last time before crawling out of bed.

She laid there staring up at the ceiling, shocked, flabbergasted, enamoured, basically every single word that essentially meant ‘what the fuck just happened.'

She got up, turned off the alarm and waited to use the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and replaced her tank top with a sweater. Spencer slipped across the hall to change into jeans and a button-down shirt, almost like he couldn’t be in anything else around his friends.

Penelope was a hugger, she made sure to give Y/N a good squeeze as she walked into her apartment. “It’s literally the same as Reid’s just backwards,” was the first thing she said.

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been over there yet,” Y/N smiled, taking the coffees out of Penelope’s hands and setting them on the counter.

“JJ and Emily said they’d love to come help later too if you want them to, but it doesn’t look too bad for just the 3 of us,” she said looking around.

“Everything is labelled, my room is all done so you don’t need to worry about it, set up however you see fit, honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss figuring out how to make this place feel more like me with what I have.”

“Alright, well,” she started, looking for the box with the cleaning supplies. “First we clean the kitchen then we put everything where it has to go.”

So that's what they did, they spent a few hours wiping down every surface in the house, disinfecting the floors, the walls, door handles, nobs, everything. Then Penelope got out all her pots and pans, hanging them on the rack above the kitchen island.

Spencer took all the plates out, stacking them neatly in the cabinet. Y/N stacked her cups and glasses, placing them on the shelf with the glass door. They organized her utensils, baking equipment, cookbooks and aprons, asking all about how much she baked.

She offered to make cookies for the team soon, that was a Sunday night with Spencer activity for sure.

In the living space, there weren’t many things. Spencer unpacked the books and placed them on her shelves in library-coded order. While Penelope and Y/N unboxed all her albums and records, cheering and singing along to their favourites.

Y/N had never quite had friends like this before, people who just fit into her life so easily. This was really the best family in the FBI, they knew how to make someone feel completely and wholly loved.

“I need to get some art and stuff,” Y/N said staring at the one empty wall.

“What are you going to do on the fireplace mantle?” Spencer asked, noticing it was still empty.

“Probably some of my spiritual stuff, like my crystals and candles and incense,” she smiled.

“oh, I do that too!” Another thing they had in common.

The day blew past them. They finished unpacking and breaking down all the boxes by 2 pm, finally sitting down altogether, exhausted. Ready to order a few pizzas and chill for the rest of the afternoon.

—

“I really appreciate the help today,” she said as she hugged Penelope. Penelope’s hugs were more comforting than her own mother’s, she thought. Holding her tightly and taking it all in. “I’m so blessed I ran into Spencer and now I get to be your friend.”

“I will cry,” she joked as she hugged y/n tighter. “I’m very blessed to have met you as well.”

She hugged Spencer on her way out as well, forcing herself to leave or else she would have stayed and talked for hours.

As soon as Spencer closed the door behind her, he set the alarm the way Y/N liked it. She smiled at him, seeing him remember how she likes to feel completely safe.

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. “Would you like to make out with me on my bed?”

“Like horny teenagers?” He giggled, dropping his forehead to rest on hers.

“We never really got the horny teenage experience,” she said softly.

“Are you-?” He cut himself off before he could say the word.

She looked up at him, her eyes big and innocent, she nodded. “technically.”

“Technically?” He repeated softly.

“I don’t want to count my sexual assault as my first,” she whispered. “I’ve never let anyone touch me since.”

His arms wrapped tighter around her, pulling her in closer to be right against his chest. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, forehead, nose, and finally her lips. “I’m going to try my best to never hurt you.”

She kissed him deeper, her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting to part from him. But when she did, she whispered, out of breath. “Promise to only hurt me if I ask you to?”

He saw the way his breath hitched and the way his grip changed. His face went red as he nodded feverishly.

“Are you a virgin Dr. Reid?” She teased.

“No,” he whispered. “I uh had sex in college, just to get it out of the way.”

She broke out of his grasp, taking his hand and pulling him into her bedroom. She closed the door behind them flicking on her fairy lights and lighting a couple of candles. He sat patiently on her bed as he watched her nervously organize things that had no reason to be organized in that moment.

But he let her calm down until she was fully ready, or she changed her mind. Either way, he was going to hang out with her all night long, however she wanted him.

“Close your eyes,” she asked softly. “Lay back against the bed and don’t look at me yet.” She ordered him and he listened.

He pressed his eyes closed and scooted up the bed till his head was on a pillow, laying back with his hands over his eyes. He listened closely to the sound of her taking her clothes off. She tried to steady her breath as she pulled off her sweater and sports bra and replace it with something cute.

She put on her only pair of matching underwear, ones she got on sale at some department store that she only wore for herself so far. She crawled up the bed, sitting directly on Spencer's hips.

She took his hands off his eyes, noticing they were still closed, she smiled. She placed his hands on her bare hips. “Open them.”

He opened his eyes to the most stunning image he’s ever seen in his life. Blinking a few times as his mind burned the image into the back of his eyelids for the rest of time. “Fuck,” he whispered.

She smiled to herself, “thought you’d like it.”

She leaned down, arching her back and kissed his neck. His hands travelled from her thighs to her perched ass as she kissed up his jaw to his ear. He was nothing but breathy moans and thank you’s as she explored him.

She ground herself down on his growing erection, smirking against his skin. She sat back on his hips, wiggling as she undid each of his shirt buttons, way too slow.

She took her time, pulling the front of his shirt out of his jeans and finally spreading the shirt open. Her hands ran over his chest before she used her nails to scrape her way down to his jean buttons.

He reached for her hands then. Stopping her and looking up into her eyes. “Before we start, I need to know what will trigger you,” he said softly.

“Oh,” her face dropped a little, she was a little overwhelmed with the fact he was asking, but she knew he truly cared. “I can’t do blowjobs yet, I will probably have a panic attack.”

“I can live without them,” he smirked, “look at everything else you do, fuck you’re amazing.” His hands roamed her skin the whole time.

She tucked her ankles under his knees and in one swift moment flipped them from laying on his side of the bed to the middle. He was on top of her now, absolutely amazed that she could do that.

“Told you I was combat trained,” she giggled.

Spencer sat up on the bed, ripping his shirt off and pushing himself out of both his jeans and underwear at the same time. Her mouth couldn’t help but fall open and the sight of his perfect cock bouncing free.

He sat back, trying to tug his jeans off of his ankles when he fell back and landed on the hardwood floor, “Spencer!” She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her.

He huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she quickly bit her lip to try and stop laughing.

“When you said horny teenager phase I didn’t think you meant the awkward part too,” he smiled, standing completely naked in front of her.

“Get back here,” she giggled.

He got right back on top of her, between her legs that she wrapped immediately around him. Locking him in place. “How would you like it?” He asked.

“Well hypothetically,” she began with a smirk, “I think I would like to ride you, sitting up, tits in your face, the whole shebang.”

He forgot how to breathe, the most beautiful girl in the world just laid out how she wants to be fucked like it was a science experiment.

He was in love with her.

She flipped him again, “you have to stop doing that!” He gasped.

She laughed as she sat up, getting off him enough so he could sit up against the headboard. She shimmied out of her underwear before sitting down on him again, their most intimate parts just resting close to one another. She shivered at the feel of his hot skin against hers. She’d never been this close to another human before.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked, suddenly shy.

“If you want one yeah but I have an IUD in case I get,” she stopped herself, “you know, in the field.”

“Yeah that's smart,” he was so nervous.

She leaned in and kissed him. Holding his cheeks in her hands as his hands reached behind her back to undo her bra. She opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue as she felt the straps of her bra slip down her shoulders.

She let go of his face one hand at a time and peeled the bra from her skin. Flinging it across the room without looking and pressing her breasts against his chest.

She gets on her knees without breaking the kiss, reaching between them she grips the base of his cock. His breath hitches in his throat and she can feel his pulse in his shaft.

She drags the head through her folds, she breaks the kiss to breathe in his ear, “you know, you’re just a bit bigger than what I'm used to.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She lines him up with her and slowly pushes down on him, pulling up and back down again, each time getting his cock a little wetter on her juices so he can slip in easier. “I think it was called the emerald stud, he’s in a box over there,” she whispers in his ear as she bottoms out.

She sits back, her arms around his shoulders, she rocks on his cock. His eyes slip shut as he dips his head back against her crossed wrists. “Fuck,” he breathes.

She shifts again, bouncing more on him when she’s used to his size. His hands are on her ass again, helping her bounce as he moved to kiss her neck and collarbones.

He’s all noises, hot breath against her chest and sloppy kisses. She reaches between them to rub her clit before he pushes her hand out of the way to rub her himself. Feeling how swollen she is, he squeezes her clit lightly.

She moans out a high pitches squeak that she had no idea she could make, covering her mouth as she bounced a little harder on his cock. “Fuck Spencer,” she whispered into his hair.

He kissed her ear again, “you want me to cum in you?” He asks.

“God yeah, fill me up,” she replies without thinking, tossing her head back and grinding down ever so provocatively on him.

She presses her front against him more, causing the friction from his index finger on her clit to get more intense as she bucks her hips faster and faster against him.

He’s gone. Absolutely destroyed. He cants even worn her that he’s about to cum he just tips his head back and fucks up into her, gripping her ass so tight that he knows she’s going to have 5 deep, finger-shaped, purple bruises around each ass cheek.

Her orgasm rips through her, losing balance with her shaking thighs she gasps for air, falling into him with her face in the crook of his neck. She is breathing so hard as she comes down, she drools on his neck a little.

He pulls his hand out from between them, flicking her clit on last time. Sending a tremor through her body. She twitches against him, tensing up and tightening around the cock still inside her.

He moans once more, and she feels the tiniest trickle of cum slip out of her as he lifts her off him.

They don’t talk. They just hold onto one another, breathing and rubbing their hands over each other's skin.

“Wow,” Spencer finally says.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“Hypothetically,” he says with a smile, “I think the outcome we reached was the intended goal?” Only Spencer Reid would make a joke like that after sex.

She laughed and kissed his neck, “very successful, I would be willing to switch techniques next time to see if we can repeat this outcome.”

“Sounds like a date.”

chapter 3

They worked together perfectly. Every morning he’d head across the hall to his own apartment to get ready, coming back to a slice of toast and coffee in his travel mug ready to go.

She looked gorgeous every morning. She put time and effort into what she wore to work, just to chase psychopaths all day. He was in love with her, its the only thing he knew for sure when he looked at her. He was never going to recover from falling for her.

He’d hold all her things while she sets the alarm and locks the door. She would drive them to work each morning and even then he’d carry all her things up to the office.

Everyone noticed how Spencer changed around Y/N, he was always smiling, he was basically glowing from being in love, and having sex. Derek teased him constantly, but in all honesty, he was really proud of his little bro.

They had a slow day, which meant all the ladies filed into Penny’s office to shoot the shit when they were really supposed to be writing reports.

“So?” Penelope looked at Y/N with an arched eyebrow. “How is he?”

She shook her head and giggled to herself. “Really good.”

“Really?” Emily pried?

“He has this other personality that comes out when we, you know,” she was afraid to say fuck inside the walls of Penelope’s office. “I’m addicted, I was so afraid to have sex and now I’m like having an internal battle of is it really worth getting caught in the filing room for a quicky!”

They all burst into laughter, sharing stories of all the times each of them has fucked at work, “you won't get caught if you let us help you?” JJ said with a smirk.

“You’re kidding?” Y/N tilted her head, not believing her.

“I can ask Morgan and the team to lunch while you stay here, text Spencer saying to stay back to get work done but he can meet you in here.” Penelope planned the whole thing.

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable enough for that yet.” She was being completely honest.

“We need a code word for when you choose to use this plan,” Emily said. “Like you group text us the word ‘switch’ and we will keep everyone busy for you and Spence.”

“Why do you want me to fuck him here so bad?”

They all laughed, “because we’re not used to Spence getting this kind of love!” JJ said. “Emily and Penelope covered for me literally when me and Will made Henry.”

“having a hand in making my godson gave me a god complex,” Penelope joked.

They got along fabulously, laughing and working all afternoon before the boys came to get them.

“We got something.”

Y/N walked out first joining Spencer in the hall with a smile, standing close enough to him as they walked that their knuckles rubbed together. She sat beside him in the briefing room, opening the case file in front of her and flipping through the info.

“Wow,” she whispered to herself. “I know a few of the 13 women, I put them in the missing system.”

Spencer rubs his hand over her back softly, looking at the pages she’s flipping through.

Garcia wasn’t cheery anymore, she grabbed the remote for the tv and started her rundown.

“Over the last 6 days, police in Winnemucca Nevada have dug up 13 bodies of women who have gone missing in the last 10 years. He seems to kill sporadically without patterns. M.E has confirmed all 13 women, and de-comp shows they were all killed within 24 hours of going missing.”

“Cause?” Prentiss asked.

“All 13 were strangled with plastic shopping bags, that were left wrapped around their faces in the graves. They were all sexually assaulted antemortem, but not all of them died from asphyxiation. He also stabbed 9 of the 13 victims, 5 of which died from massive blood loss. But the real kicker was that all 13 of them had their wombs removed.” Penelope finished.

“Do we know if any of them were pregnant?” Y/N asked.

“Yes,” she said flipping through slides, “victim number 13, Traci Purcell was 17 and according to her autopsy, her HCG levels indicated she would have been 3 weeks along when she was murdered.”

“Are they able to see if the others were pregnant?” Hotch asked.

“They’re working on it, best bet will be for me to pull medical records and to ask the family.”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch nodded towards the door.

Slowly but surely they all filed into the plane, Y/N took a window seat, quickly burying her head in the file, looking at each and every victim carefully.

“Spence, would you help me place the geographical profile?” Y/N asked him softly as he got comfortable in the seat across from her.

“Once we take off we can spread out the map,” he smiled softly back at her. Even when dealing with the hard cases they managed to get caught up in each other's eyes.

“Okay love birds, can I sit here too or will I get more than air sickness?” Morgan said, pretending to feel sick as he sat beside Y/N.

She smacked his arm lightly.

“Speaking of,” Spencer said, stopping to swallow nervously. “Hotch I’m going to need 2 of the workplace fraternization forms when we get back.”

Everyone on the plane cheered at him, he got 3 high-fives and all the congratulations in the world. Y/N immediately felt her face warm up.

“Don’t worry, Garcia filed them for you that night she helped you unpack,” Hotch smiled into his paperwork.

“How did she even know?” Y/N’s voice went up 3 octaves as she panicked.

“At least we know when pretty boy lost his V card now,” Morgan smirked.

“No, just me.” Y/N corrected him. To which Spencer was given yet another high five.

Just then Spencer was handed $20 from Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan. Y/N raised an eyebrow, “why?”

“I bet them $20, years ago, that I am in fact not a virgin and they said they would and I quote ‘only pay me if a woman who has fucked me confirms it.�� So who’s going to tell Gideon to pay up?” He explains.

The team carried on like normal after all the excitement died down. Having side conversations, working on the case, sleeping. The trip from Quantico to Winnemucca was fairly quick.

Y/N sat with Spencer at the table, spreading out the map and watching him place where all 13 victims disappeared from as well as where they were found. They were spread over 3 subdivisions, all 35 miles at least away from the burial sites.

“The park,” Spencer said softly.

“Is that the middle ground?”

“Yeah there’s something significant with the park,” Spencer confirms.

—

Spencer and Y/N went to the M.E together, all 13 women were labelled and displayed under white sheets. They took their time looking over each skeleton and the bodies.

“Clean cuts on the stomach, I wonder why he didn’t stab her?” Spencer said as he looked at the 13th victim.

“She might have cooperated better, or and I hate to say it but, seeing as she was Asian there is a high chance she didn’t bear resemblance to the source of the unsubs rage meaning she got to go out a little easier,” Y/N suggested with a disgusted look on her face.

“The 5 who died of blood loss were all white, brown hair, green eyes. 3 were 26, 2 were 29. They might be exactly his type,” Spencer confirmed the theory.

“They were also murdered,” she flipped her notebook open to show a chart with 5 columns. “June, February, June, November, November. Could also mean something to him.”

“What is that?” Spencer asks.

“It’s a chart that has the name, their age, the missing date and last scene location, the estimated date of death, and the cause. So that I can easily refer to the most important info when making a connection,” She explained. “My brain works better if I can see everything, so I also have my own little hand-drawn map of the area on his page as well as all my ideas in case I don’t get a turn to speak.”

“That’s really smart,” he smiled.

“So June, November and February might be significant to him.”

“Let’s go tell Hotch.”

Spencer drove for once, Y/N sat in the passenger seat in the SUV, doodling into her notebook.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Spencer asked.

“I wrote down the first letter of each month,” she explained, showing him the notebook. “And I circled each of the 3 months that repeat, February, June and November.”

“Okay?” He followed along.

“From February to November it’s 10 months or 40 weeks which is the typical length of a pregnancy,” She explained further. “This whole thing is clearly about pregnancy seeing as he is taking wombs. It’s clearly not a woman seeking revenge because of the sexual assault so it has something to do with him seeking revenge for a pregnancy in his life.”

“Could even be his own, like he’s punishing women who look like his mother because he wishes he was never born,” Spencer ponders.

They pulled into the police station, she got out and walked in all with her head still in the notebook. “Find anything?” Hotch asked.

“Of course she did,” Spencer bragged about her.

—

They all took a break, going back to their hotels to get some rest. All agreeing that since the media hasn’t released anything about this case yet the killed has no idea. They take it in faith that he will stick to his 2 to 4 month waiting period.

They all returned the next morning, refreshed and ready to resume their findings. JJ and Emily spent most of the morning interviewing families of the victims, specifically asking if they knew the vic was pregnant as well as what significance the park played in or around their pregnancies.

Y/N sat in silence with a coffee, flipping through her notebook. Hotch and Morgan were running over ideas they all had with Garcia on the phone.

“Hey, Spence?” Y/N called boy wonder over from the map he had been staring at.

“Yes, my love?” He says softly.

“I think I have an idea, can you go over it with me before we tell the team?” She asked.

“Of course,” he took a seat beside her.

“Why do I have an IUD?” She asks him in a whisper.

“In case you get raped in the field,” he whispered back.

“More specifically.”

“So you don’t get pregnant as a result of a rape in the field.”

“The sexual assaults in his mind, are him getting these victims pregnant. But they’re already pregnant when he picks them right?” She explains, “So that when he removes the uterus postmortem it's his way of aborting the child.”

“So this is all about abortion?” Spencer confirms.

“More specifically to do with how you said he regrets being born,” she corrects.

“Do you think he’s the product of a failed abortion?”

She nodded her head, “yeah and that by taking the whole uterus, and the strangling, and the stabbing, both mother and baby are for sure dead.”

“Hotch!” Spencer called across the room. “Y/N figured it out.”

They waited for JJ and Prentiss to finish an interview before they all piled into an office to discuss Y/N’s idea.

“Is there even any way to know if someone is the product of a failed abortion?” Prentiss asked after Spencer and Y/N took turns explaining how they came to their conclusion.

“Probably the best way would be to search for babies born with the common disabilities that occur in babies of failed abortions, but make sure they were born in November,” Y/N explained.

“Why November?” Penelope asked over the phone.

Y/N took a whiteout marker and started writing on the whiteboard.

“The 5 victims that died from loss of blood were all exactly the same, they were murdered in June, February, June. November and November.” She explained.

Writing “J F M A M J J A S O N D” on the whiteboard. Circling February, June and November.

“February, conception. 10 months later, or 40 weeks, is November. June is 4 months along meaning that would be when the mother either had the abortion, be it medical or homemade,” Y/N explained.

“Last year alone 146 of the 164,045 abortions resulted as a failure. When this happens most women choose to have the second procedure, or a D and C. Or they can carry the baby the rest of the way to term,” Spencer explained. “Children brought to term from a first-trimester medical abortion failure often have limb or digit abnormalities while infants born from non-medical approved abortions are more likely to have congenital problems.”

“However someone without a limb would not be able to do what our unsub is capable of. Digging graves, abducting, dragging dead bodies, it’s a lot of effort,” JJ added.

“Exactly, which is why I think our unsub probably has a mental disability.”

“Non-medical abortions, most often referred to as the poor person’s method, is taking a non-FDA approved ulcer treatment drug called Misoprostol, which is causing an epidemic of birth defects all along South America and parts of Asia,” Spencer added. “It induces contractions, causing women to deliver babies far too early to survive outside of the womb. If taken after the first trimester, and unsuccessful it can cut off oxygen to the brain long enough to permanently damage development in the frontal lobe.”

“Did the families mention anything about the park?” Y/N asked Prentiss and JJ.

“So far 4 of the victim's husbands say their wives announced they were pregnant on park benches, near the children swinging. They said it was the typical, ‘that could be us one day, that day came sooner than you thought’ moments from movies.” JJ confirmed.

“Let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced, following them all into the precinct.

—

They spent the next few hours looking for anyone with birth defects or mental disabilities that could be a potential suspect. Asking the other officers as well as anyone around the park about the type of man they were looking for.

Morgan and JJ patrolled the park while Rossi and Prentiss asked around on the street.

“Lynette Hayward,” Y/N whispered to herself, standing up and rushing through all the papers on the table in front of her.

“She was the only one who wasn’t pregnant, she was the only one who wasn’t reported missing, she was the oldest and in her youth, she had brown hair and green eyes. What if she’s his mother?” Y/N expressed to Spencer and Hotch who were watching her scramble around.

She pulled her phone out and called Garcia, “what’s cooking good lookin’?” Penelope answered.

“Can you help unscramble my egg brain?” She joked right back.

“Sure thing, whatcha got?”

“Lynette Hayward, does she have children, was she ever pregnant, or put someone up for adoption?”

“Let me check into it and I will call you right back!” Garcia said, hanging up and going right to work.

“Is there anyone here who knew Lynette Hayward about 30 years ago? She would have been 26 to 29, my height, brown hair, and green eyes?” Y/N announced to the whole Police Department.

“I did,” an officer said, standing up from the desk on the other side of the room.

She waved him over, pulling out a chair and asking him to sit.

“Was Lynette ever pregnant?” Y/N asked.

He thought for a moment, licking his lips and harkening all the way back to his 20’s. “There was a summer that no one saw her."

"When was this?" Spencer asked.

"From June to November, not a single person saw her. We thought maybe she was doing summer classes somewhere,” he explained.

“Were there any children dropped off at a fire hall or a hospital that November?” Spencer asked.

“There was a baby left in the park, poor little guy had been left out there in the cold,” he said.

Hotch, Spencer and Y/N all took a deep breath and looked at each other. “That’s him.”

Garcia called back then, “I found 1 baby left abandoned in the park in November of 1979, he was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate, seizures, and later on he was diagnosed with diabetes, Crohn’s disease and Asperger's syndrome.”

“Name and address?” Spencer asked.

“That's the difficult part, he was born, operated on and handed over to the state and cared for by a foster family that named him Jake Alexander Ingrid. At the age of 6, he was adopted by them fully. When he was 12 he dropped out of the public school system due to bullying that left him in the hospital with a broken arm. After that, his trail goes cold.”

“How cold?” Y/N asked.

“If I didn't know better I'd say he was the one missing not Lynette,” Garcia confirmed.

“Does anyone live in Lynette’s house?” Hotch asked.

The sound of Garcia’s typing was all they heard over the phone, “her bills are being paid on time, someone is in her trailer. I’ve sent the address to your phones.”

“Let’s go.”

Hotch kicked the trailer door in, “FBI!”

He was asleep, startled awake in the bed that used to belong to his birth mother. He cried, overwhelmed with the 3 guns pointed in his face. Hotch sighed, cuffing him and reading him his rights.

“Why are the worst ones always the sadist?” Y/N asked Spencer as they watched forensics tore apart the trailer.

“Sad in what context?”

“His whole life was so fucked up, it sucks. All those women crossed paths with him and he took his fucked up life and ended theirs, as well as their babies,” Y/N couldn’t stop shaking her head as she spoke, disgusted with the whole situation.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, “if we spend all our time wondering why the world is like this we won't have enough time to bring justice to the victims.”

“which is the best outcome we can ask for,” Y/N agreed.

“Dr, Reid, agent Y/L/N?” An officer interrupted their hug and watched them awkwardly pull away from each other quickly.

“Yes?” Spencer answered.

“We found the wombs.”

The worst fucking sentence she had ever heard. “I can’t look at that.” She said, walking away to join JJ and Prentiss standing by the SUV.

“Good job kid,” Morgan said, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re almost as smart as boy wonder over there.”

“Just call me Mrs, boy wonder then,” she joked.

“Don’t tempt him!” Prentiss joked.

Y/N turned back to see Spencer walking out of the trailer, a shade of green spreading across his skin. “Excuse me,” she said walking towards the ambulance that was on standby.

“Dr. Reid looks like he might be sick,” she said, taking an EMT with her towards him.

Sure enough, Spencer leaned over the bushes and hurled before passing out into the EMT’s arms. Morgan and Hotch came running over to him, helping get him into an ambulance.

“What happened?” Morgan asked.

“He took a look at the recovered womb’s the forensic team found,” Y/N explained.

“That would do it,” Hotch agreed.

Y/N rubbed her hand along Spencer’s shoulder, “good catch,” the EMT complimented her as he took Spencer's vitals.

“I know him well.”

“Too well,” Morgan agreed. “You’d think you were cut from the same cloth.”

“No,” she said softly, gripping Spencer’s hand in her own as he started to stir a little. “We’re cosmically connected, made from the same space rock that split during the big bang.”

“I love you,” he whispered, awake the whole time she was speaking.

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased him, “I know, save your strength, you’re still all pasty white.”

“Gross,” Morgan smiled, turning away from the ambulance

chapter 4

Prentiss convinced Y/N and Spencer to take the weekend off in Nevada to go visit their parents. They agreed that it would be nice, seeing as neither of them thought to tell their moms that they met again let alone that they were together.

Y/N walked into the Nursing home first, looking for her mom in her office as Spencer walked in quickly to go find his mother.

“Hey mom,” Y/N smiled as she knocked on her mother's office door.

“Y/N!” She yelled, shocked to see her eldest baby standing in front of her for the first time since last Christmas. “What are you doing here?”

“Remember how I moved?” She started there.

“Yes?”

“Well, my new neighbour ended up being Spencer Reid, and he introduced me to the BAU and I helped them with a case, so they hired me, and now I work for them and we just finished a case in Winnemucca and me and Spencer are dating. He’s here too and we’re taking the weekend off to tell you and Diana,” she had never rambled so fast to her mother before in her life.

“Holy shit?” Her mother was shocked, “this all happened in the last 3 weeks? Is that why you’ve been too busy to text me?”

“I’ve been on 5 cases in the last 3 weeks, I was swamped,” she smiled, her eyes welling with tears.

Her mom walked over to her and wrapped her up in her arms, holding her close. “My baby, this is everything you wanted why are you crying?”

“I haven’t taken a moment to actually understand that this is all real,” she whispered.

Her mother pulled back, looking in her eyes with a stern look. “Is he good to you?”

She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He’s wonderful.”

“Diana is in the game room, let’s go see them,” she tucked her arm under Y/N’s and the two of them walked arm in arm towards the game room.

Diana stood up as she saw them walk in, “Debbie’s daughter?” She asked.

Spencer nodded with a large smile on his face. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, my partner.”

“I know you,” Diana said softly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. “You would read to me on Thursdays after Spencer left for CalTech.”

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“I knew you were here as often as you could be, and I felt bad she didn’t have any other children to come see her,” Y/N explained. “I know if my mom was here and my brother couldn’t visit I’d fill in.”

“It was lovely, I still have the book you gave me before you left for the academy,” Diana’s smile was as big and bright as Spencer’s.

They all sat together, sharing stories with each other. It seemed like their mothers enjoyed sharing embarrassing kid stories to make Spencer and Y/N blush back and forth.

Before they knew it, it was 3 pm and visiting hours were coming to an end and Debbie’s shift was about to end as well. “Where are you both staying?” She asked.

“At a hotel downtown,” Y/N explained.

“Nonsense, stay with me and your father!” Debbie insisted.

Y/N shook her head, “we can come to visit for dinner tomorrow, but we need some space.”

“You know how it feels to be in love especially this young Deb, I’m sure you understand,” Diana patted her on the shoulder.

“Go on, have fun. But tomorrow dinner starts at 6:15, Levi and Lizzie also home this weekend,” Debbie smiled, hugging both Spencer and Y/N before Diana.

“Would Diana be able to come to dinner at our place?” Y/N asked.

“I think I can pull some strings,” Debbie agreed, “have a good night tonight guys.”

“We will,” Spencer smiled, taking Y/N’s hand and walking with her to the parking lot.

They both sighed as they sat in their rental car. “That went well,” Y/N said softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you visited my mom?” Spencer asked, holding her hand again.

“I was going to, there’s so much I want to tell you but we haven’t had enough personal time to get through it all, every time we talk lately it’s about murder,” she replied.

“Let's go get a table at a nice restaurant and tell each other everything.”

“I have something to do first, can I drop you off at the hotel and meet you there?” She asked.

“absolutely.”

-—

She drove to her parent's place as fast as she could, they were all just sitting down in the living room when she walked in the door. “Hi sorry I can’t stay I just want to grab a dress from my closet.”

She kicked her shoes off and ran up the stairs to her bedroom just like she would have after school. Her room hadn’t changed much. Her desk was still in the corner, her bed was made, and her mom now used it for storage. There were boxes, lamps, pillows and a million folded blankets all resting on her bed and scattered along the floor.

She shuffled some things out of the way of her closet door and quickly looked through all the bagged dresses she had left here. Minoring in political science and volunteering with government organizations in college meant she had a dress for every occasion, times the 4 years she was there.

“Cocktail, dinner, black tie, prom, homecoming,” she flicked through them all, “funeral,” she said as she stopped. “Why is this here?”

She pulled out a black dress she wore to a democratic representatives fundraiser, it was an off-the-shoulder, 3/4 length sleeve, plunging neckline, skin-tight dress with a slit to show some leg. It was perfect.

She placed it on the edge of her bed and dug out the black heels that she originally bought to go with the dress. She found a strapless bra in her dresser, and a cute pair of underwear buried at the back of her drawer.

She closed her door and quickly changed, walking across the hall in her heels to fluff her hair in the mirror and figure out how the fuck she was going to do her makeup here.

Just then her brother's wife came walking up the stairs, “Y/N?” She knocked on the bathroom door before coming in.

“Hey Lizzie,” she smiled. “Do I look okay?” She asked.

Lizzie looked her up and down with a shocked look on her face, “yeah what’s the occasion? I didn’t even know you were home?”

“It’s a long story, my boyfriend and I were here on a case and we’re staying for the weekend, you get to meet him tomorrow!” She filled her in as she searched the bathroom drawers for makeup.

“What do you need?” She asked.

“Do you have your makeup kit here? We’re like the same shade right?”

Before she knew it, Lizzie was making her sit on the edge of the tub while she did Y/N’s makeup for her. “Remember when you did my prom makeup?” Lizzie asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You and Levi looked so good together that night.”

“Not as good as you look right now, he’s going to eat you alive,” she hyped Y/N up.

“You think so?” Y/N asked, standing up to take a look in the mirror.

“Absolutely!!!”

She took a deep breath and shook the nerves out, “okay I have to go,” she said running back to her room for her phones, wallet and badge.

“Go get him, SSA Y/L/N,” Lizzie smiled as she watched y/n steadily run down the stairs in heels, clicking on the hardwood as she ran.

“Wait!” Her dad yelled from the table, “don’t I get to see you before you leave?”

She ran into the table room, quickly hugging her father at the head of the table and kissing him on his bald head. “I’m late for my date, I love you, I’ll be home tomorrow,” she said running back towards the front door and to her car.

She was like a mad chicken running around with her head cut off. She took a breather in the car before starting the engine and making her way back downtown.

--

She left her car out front with the valet, saying she would be back in a minute. She dug her phone out of her wallet and called Spencer. “I’m in the lobby.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She waited by the elevator, she pulled her boobs up into her bra and wiggled the wire till they looked okay, then she straightened her dress out. She never felt this nervous when she wore this dress the last time, she’s never felt this nervous period, actually.

Spencer Reid did something to her that she couldn’t quite describe. But if she had to, she’d say he makes her feel alive.

The elevator dinged and Spencer walked out in one of his best suits. He was looking down at his button as he stepped out not seeing her at first.

She smiled at him, waiting for him to look up. When he did his eyes grew three times their normal size and his mouth dropped. He stopped right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lightly running his hands down her arms. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Could say the same thing about you Dr. Reid,” Y/N teased as she pulled on his tie.

She pulled him down by his tie and pressed her lips against his. Never before had either of them been a big fan of PDA, but this was an exception.

She pulled back from him and tucked his tie back into his jacket. Smoothing out his sleeves before taking a step back and handing him the keys. “Lead the way doctor.”

He extended his arm to which she wrapped her arm around. He walked her to the front of the lobby, watching as the bellhop held the door for them.

Their car was still there, waiting with the valet who opened the door when he saw her return. She sat on the passenger side, fixing the slit of her dress to not show too much just yet.

Spencer joined her, sitting in the driver's seat he started the car and drove off.

He reached his hand over to place it on her thigh, where it belonged. He gripped her leg and felt down to where her holster was. She saw his eyebrow raise as he looked down, moving the side of her dress to see her gun strapped to her leg.

“Gonna shoot me if I’m not on my best behaviour tonight, agent?” He laughed.

“Nevada is a concealed carry state, and I don’t trust anyone,” she said. “Plus I look like this tonight, do you know what the crime rate is in Los Vegas-? Don’t answer that, of course, you do,” she teased him.

“It’s pretty hot,” he complimented her.

“What? The gun or my attitude?”

“The fact that you don’t take shit from anyone, you’re a badass and I never have to worry about you.”

“What if I want you to worry?”

“I’m always going to worry, I just mean you’re not a damsel in distress. I can go into every situation knowing you’re smarter on your feet than anyone on the team, and as long as you’re there we’re coming out alive,” he explained better.

“That’s the best compliment,” she felt bashful all of a sudden. She put her hand on his and squeezed it. “I love you, Spencer,” she finally told him.

“I love you too,” he smiled.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t said it back yet.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant they were going to, returning his focus fully to driving. He pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park.

“I knew you’d say it when you were ready, I’m in no rush to hear it,” he leaned over the centre console and kissed her on the lips.

He got out of the car and walked around to open her door, helping her out before extending an arm out for her once more.

He made a reservation while he was alone at the hotel, getting a table in the back away from everyone else. It was a round table with a booth stretching all the way around the table. The back of the chair tall enough to enclose them in their own little world for the time being.

They were at a cute little stake house, one where you got to pick the exact piece of meat you wanted and they did it however you asked. They ordered drinks and enough bread to make the waiter look at them differently.

“Tell me the most random fact about you,” Y/N asked as soon as the waiter left to tell the kitchen their order.

“When my mom’s schizophrenia started getting bad, she thought that the government used dryers to take our socks for DNA and clone us, so whenever one of my socks went missing she freaked out. After that, I started wearing mismatched socks all the time so that that way she would never notice which of the pairs were missing since I never wore them that way anyway.”

She smiled the whole time he talked, absolutely in love with him. He was her everything. “So that’s why I’ve got so many random socks around my house.”

“It’s worse at my apartment,” he smiled again. “Your turn.”

“The first time I ever rode a bike without training wheels was because I stole my neighbour's bike and took off with it down the road,” she laughed.

“Why?���

“I think my mom said I couldn’t take my own training wheels off yet, so I took matters into my own hands.”

“See?” He shook his head lightly. “Badass.”

“When was the last time you were in Vegas?” She asked.

“Earlier this year when we reopened the Riley Jenkins case,” he said softly.

“oh, my mom was telling me about that one! Your mom went off her meds to help remember if your dad was involved right?” Y/N recalled.

He nodded, “do you know what really happened?”

“I have the gist, Lou killed Gary in revenge for Riley.”

“That's not all of it,” he said lightly. “Gary was watching me, and my mom told Lou that the way he looked at me, he might have been the one who hurt Riley. And then she witnessed Lou kill Gary.”

“Holy shit Spence, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Did you know Gary was my neighbour?” ,

“No?”

“Yeah we were 4, my brother was 2 and my mom was pregnant again, and Gary kept taking photos of my brother through the fence. My dad threatened to kill him a few times and then we finally moved across town,” she explained.

“How is it that our lives were so intertwined, and yet it took 20 years for us to actually connect again?” He asked.

“The same thing happened to my parents.”

“What’s their story?” He asked.

She moved around the table to sit closer to him, taking his hand in hers. “My dad is 8 years older than my mom, they met when she was 17 and he was 26 and they became good friends like he was her older brother. They realized years later that my dad delivered newspapers to the town my mom lived in, and he saw her basically grow up playing in the yard. Then his best friend always invited him to his cabin and when he finally went, the lot across from them was my mom's family cabin. They were always so close but never knew each other till they were meant to. And now they’ve been happily married for 30 years.”

“There's an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer explained.

“It took 500 years of coincidences to bring us together,” she said softly. “Which kinda makes the 20 years of admiring you from afar not seem so long.”

“From here on out let’s make every moment count then,” Spencer suggested, “we’ve been barely dating for 3 weeks I’m not going to ask you to marry me right this instant, but I do intend to spend the rest of my life with you in whatever capacity I can. Because I think you’re it for me.”

She could bask in the feeling of her heart fluttering like this for the rest of her life, it was like butterflies but completely calm. True happiness at its finest.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said softly, “in 1 year we come back here, and if we feel the exact same way as we do right now, you can propose to me.”

He put his pinky out for her, she wrapped hers around his, before kissing each other's knuckles. “Promise.” Spencer and Y/N said at the same time.

—

Back in the hotel room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash before slamming Spencer against the door. She slid her thigh between both his legs and boxed him in.

She undid the single button of his suit jacket, shushing Spencer. She pushed it off his arms, knocking it to the floor. She loosened his tie, tossing it to the side, still around his neck, while she unbuttoned his shirt.

He was completely silent and still. She was in control.

She tossed his shirt to the ground next. Holding onto his tie as she pulled him down into a heated kiss.

“Take my dress off,” she breathed into his mouth, feeling his hands reach around her back for the zipper.

He pushed the sleeves down her arms, watching the dress gather at her ankles before she stepped out and kicked the fabric out of the way. She tugged him by his tie towards the bed.

“Strip,” she instructed him. “Not the tie.”

“Underwear too?” He asked as she dug through his suitcase.

“yes.”

She returned with 2 more ties. Looking at him, butt naked on the bed. She stepped out of her underwear and the uncomfortable strapless bra. She set her gun in the hotel safe with her badge and returned to the bed.

“Would you be willing to try something?” She asked.

“anything,” he said, overly eager.

“Would you tie my hands to the bedpost and blindfold me and just do whatever you want?”

“Hold on,” he got off the bed and opened his go-bag side pocket. “I have a blindfold for the plane.”

“So you want to?”

Actions speak louder than words, he would always say.

He dimmed the lights down, got on the bed and roughly picked her up laying her back against the pillows. He tied her left hand first, and then her right hand. He took a hair elastic off the bedside table and put her hair back as best he could before he rested the blindfold against her forehead.

He hovered over her. “Anything I want?” Spencer confirmed.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Ground rules?”

“Yellow for slow down, red for stop?” She shrugged.

“You really mean anything?”

“I trust you, Spencer Reid, make me feel good,” she smiled.

He kissed her on the nose before coving her eyes with the blindfold.

She had always wanted to try this, it was a kink she had always been determined to try. She took a deep breath and tried her best to listen to him as he moved to sit between her spread legs.

He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips before following the curve to her waist. He gripped her waist tightly and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, breathing her in as he kissed.

She wasn’t embarrassed about her tummy, for the first time in her life she loved her body. She felt him kiss all over her chest, dragging his bottom lip along her skin. He licked a stripe between her breasts, dropping his chin to her chest then to blow lightly over the wet trail.

She felt her nipples harden, she could physically hear the smirk that spread across his face.

He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands as he groped her lightly. She squirmed, trying her best to grind her hips against his.

He pushed her hips against the bed, “be patient.”

He disappeared then. She felt his weight shift and get off the bed. She let out a deep breath, knowing she told him he could do anything and that included punishing her. She literally asked for it.

“I picked something up after you dropped me off,” she heard him say from the other side of the room.

He walked around for a minute, taking something out of a hard plastic container. He struggled with ripping it, she heard papers fall the floor and something hard hit the floor. “Shit.”

She heard him walk towards the bathroom, she crossed her ankles and just waited.

He came back to the bed, moving her legs apart like they were when he left. “stay.”

He crawled between her legs once more, his hand brushed her thigh and it was cold and wet like he washed his hands.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head feverishly.

She heard a small buzzing, an all too failure sound. The first place she feels the vibration is in her belly button. Causing her to let out a shocked little giggle.

“Shhh,” he smiled.

He dragged the little bullet vibrator down her stomach, over her pelvis and finally, finally, against her clit. She let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh of relief.

All she wanted was for someone else to control her pleasure, surprise her, set the rhythm, the speed, everything. She spent so long pleasuring herself, she was so ready to sit back and just take it.

Spencer felt the same. He took his time, feeling every inch of her skin, kissing every single place he wanted to. He spent so much time just looking. Finding freckles and scars and kissing them. He was mesmerized by the fact she was real, that a beautiful woman would lay down in front of him, spread open like this and just let him explore. It felt like the best wet dream his brain could ever conjure.

She could feel him getting closer to her. His weight shifted and she felt his breath on her leg. She took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach in the anticipation of feeling a tongue on her for the first time ever.

He turned off the vibrator. Setting it to the side as he looped his arms around her thighs. Just admiring the view. Just then her whole body shivered as she anticipated the heat of his tongue.

He pressed a kiss to her clit first before flattening his tongue against her. “Sweet fucking Jesus Christ,” she gasped.

“I’ve never done this before,” he breathed against her.

“Explore away, sir,” she whispered.

He clearly did research, if he didn’t just say this was his first time eating someone out, she would think he was an expert. She regretted having her hands tied up at that moment. She squirmed, he held her hips down. She gripped the ties around her wrists wishing it was Spencer's hair.

She was never big into overstimulation or denial, never having the willpower to keep going after making herself cum once. Spencer, however, had the ability to bring her to the edge again and again without ever letting her spillover.

She didn’t beg, she didn’t complain, she sat there in the blissful feeling and waited. It was heavenly.

“Spence,” her breathing was heavy.

He hummed, letting her know he was listening. His tongue still wiggling back and forth on her clit.

“Can you please just fuck me now?”

He kissed his way back to her mouth. All up her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and jaw. She could taste herself on his lips, “untie me?” She asked softly.

He let one hand free, which she immediately used to grip his hair. The second hand was freed and she pushed the blindfold up and worked her way into a sitting position while he kneeled in front of her.

“Anything else you want to try?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes once again. She pushed his hair out of his face and just looked at him.

“Lie back and roll over,” he instructed.

He pulled her into a face-down, ass-up position and aligned himself with her. Pushing in little by little till he bottomed out. He reached around the bed for the vibrator and placed it in her one hand.

“You decide when you cum,” was all he said before he started fucking her.

She white-knuckled the pillow as he rammed into her, she was arched in the most perfect way for him to hit her g spot every time he rammed into her.

“My hair,” she gasped, wanting him to grab her by her ponytail as he fucked her.

With one hand on her hip to steady her and the other in her hair, he fucked into her like his life depended on it. Her legs were quaking, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t cum soon.

She flicked on the vibrator and pressed it against her own clit, feeling the familiar heat bubble in her stomach. “Fuck me, oh god,” she chanted.

Cuming with a shout, she dug her face into the pillow and all but screamed. Pushing back against Spencer as he bucked into her one last time and erupted inside of her.

His hips shook as he emptied his load before slowly pulling out and dropping down beside her.

She turned her head to look at him, eyeliner and mascara all smudged around her eyes, makeup all over the pillow. She was trying her hardest to catch her breath, staring at him with a smile on her face.

“If sex was an Olympic sport, I think we’d win,” she complimented him.

“you think?” He asked, his breath just as shaky as hers.

She rolled onto her back, letting him cuddle into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. “Everyone told me that the first time I have sex it’ll be underwhelming and uneventful, and yet every time we fuck I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I should invest in a wheelchair.”

He laughed, “would you put that in writing and send it to everyone from our high school?”

She smacked his arm. “and then I’d have to swat women off you with a bat if I wanted any alone time, you’re mine now.” She wrapped her whole body around him and held him there.

“I love you,” Spencer smiled.

“I love you, more.”

chapter 5

They packed everything into their car just to go to her parents house. There was something in Y/N’s gut that told her there was a case coming.

Her parents lived 30 minutes out of the city, on the edge of a cul-de-sac that faced a park. They had lived there since she was 5, it was her mom’s dream home. It was the only place in the town she had good memories in.

Y/N’s mother brought Diana home with her after work. They were waiting in the kitchen for Spencer and Y/N when they arrived. Tonights guests included not just them but Y/N’s youngest brother Levi, his wife Lizzie and their 2 year-old Chloe.

“There’s my girl!” Her dad cheered, standing up and rushing to give her a real hug. “Did you get taller?”

“it’s the boots,” she laughed, holding onto him tightly.

“You look great! The FBI is treating you well,” her dad was always one to compliment her. He pulled back and looked at Spencer. More like glared at him.

“Nice to meet you Sir, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid,” he said, shockingly extending his hand to shake her father's.

The profiler in her knew he was breaking his comfort zone to appease her baby boomer, ex-cop, father.

Her dad always did this thing when he met new men where he squeezed their hands to see how much they could take. “Harrison Y/L/N Sr.” She watched Spencers hand shake as he squeezed right back.

“Strong shake.” Her father complimented him. “She must have warned you.”

“No, he just knows how to read people,” Y/N laughed.

“Well come sit down Doctor Spencer Reid,” he teased him. “Let me interrogate the profiler.”

“Here we go,” Y/N laughed, placing a hand on Spencer's back as she led him into the kitchen.

They sat down together, Spencers mom, Diana, just across from him at the table. They smiled and nodded at each other in a quiet little hello.

“I would ask you to tell me a bit about yourself, but Y/N has kept me all caught up with you over the years,” her dad said. “You went to CalTech at 13, somewhere in there you got a degree from MIT, she idolized you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she blushed.

“It’s very flattering, but if anything I’m now huge fan of her’s. In the last 3 weeks she has been the one to find the major break in 3 of our cases. She is amazing at what she does, you raised an incredible woman,” Spencer replied, praising her in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Go on then, tell us about these cases then,” her dad asked.

And with that they got lost in all things horrific. Spencer explained, verbatim, how each case went down and exactly what Y/N came up with to solve them. She answered little questions here and there but mostly it was Spencer showing off how much he loved his girlfriend.

Her mom passed out dinner plates in the middle of the talk, some how all of them were able to discuss cases and eat at the same time. Her mom made burgers and potato salad for dinner, just something simple for them all.

“Did you really offer to fuck a serial killer?” Her brother asked, disgusted.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I knew in his sick twisted mind he wouldn’t be able to refuse a woman willing to let him do what he wanted and as soon as the weapon was down, so was he.”

“I always told you she’d be able to kick your ass, Levi,” her dad said. “Ever since she was a kid I knew she had it in her to wrestle someone to the ground.”

“Yeah, Spence didn’t believe me that I’m combat trained.”

“No,” Spencer interjected, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t ever think you’d be able to take me down.”

“And did you?” Her mom asked.

Her face turned bright red. “Yeah, I showed one of my combat maneuvers on him, we were all horsing around and I showed them how to go from being pinned to the ground to being the one on top.”

“How?” Her brother’s wife asked.

“Yeah demonstrate!” Her mom innocently cheered them on not knowing she was mid sex with him when she showed him how to do it.

“Um okay, Lizzie come with me,” she said, saving Spencer the awkwardness of having to straddle her in the middle of her family home.

She laid down on the floor, “you basically have to just pin me down how ever you see fit.”

Lizzie, sat on her, holding her shoulders down with one forearm. Y/N, quickly flipped her onto her back, making sure to catch her head as she did so. Not wanting her to smack it off the hardwood floor.

“Like that,” Y/N stood up and helped Lizzie to her feet. “Made sure all the girls knew how to do that.” She lied.

“As you should!” Her dad cheered, “nice to know your team all has each others backs.”

“How do they all feel about you two?” Diana asked. She had been mostly quiet all night, just enjoying time outside of where she was used to.

“They love it, they’ve been placing bets about us,” Y/N laughed.

“Like what?” Her dad asked.

“If he would kiss me first, if we’d tell the team ever, they even had one about who is most likely to say I love you first, they’re insufferable,” Y/N ranted.

“So what team one?” Her brother teased, just trying the embarrass her.

“He kissed me first, he told the team that we were together after like 10 hours and he was the first to say I love you,” Y/N blushed.

“Does she still have the I love you problem?” Her mom asked innocently but received a death glare from Y/N.

“Uh no, she says it to me too.” Spencer noticed the awkwardness.

“Any plans for baby number two?” Y/N asked Levi, changing the subject faster than ever.

She’d be lying if she said she was listening to the answer, her ears were ringing and all she cold focus on was Spencer’s hand on her back. Her mom was about to pass out cake when she excused herself to the bathroom, and ended up in her old bedroom.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing the words her mother said over and over in her mind. “Does she still have the I love you problem?”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes and just breathed. She didn’t want him to know about that yet.

Spencer knocked on her door, opening it softly and peaking his head in. “Do you want company?”

She nodded.

He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, running his hands along her thighs. “Are you okay?”

“I told you about Christopher?” She said softly.

“yes.”

“In order to get me to do what he did, he would always say I had to because he loved me,” she explained. A tear dripped down her cheek and landed on his hand. “And so for 7 years after I never told anyone I knew that I loved them.”

“That’s okay, you went through trauma. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he soothed her.

“I want to though because, before you, I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand love, I thought it was weird and forceful and something dependent on coercion,” her voice was so tiny, she didn’t want anyone else hearing her. “Loving you is light and fluffy and special and safe, I didn’t want you to think just now that I said it this weekend to get it over with or something because I truly do love you.

He pulled her into a kiss, “I love you, more.”

She laughed, “we’ll see about that.”

—

Y/N and Diana were doing the dishes as her mom packed the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Debbie was just about to ask who wanted coffee when Y/N’s phone started to ring.

She sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel before answering the phone. “SSA Y/N Y/L/N.”

“There’s been an explosion at a mall in Los Angeles and reports of 4 more planned, how fast can you and Reid get to LA?” Hotch asked.

“Um, we’re about 45 minutes from the airport.”

“We’re 4 hours out, we want you and Reid there ASAP. Is there any way we could send a helicopter to get you?”

“Yes, there’s a soccer field across the street from my parent's house, Garcia knows the address she can direct them where to go, we’ll be ready.”

“Debrief has already been sent to your phones, I need you and Reid to go to the LA field office and start communication with Garcia on victimology.”

“Got it.” She said as she hung up. “Spence we have to go!”

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“We have an emergency in LA, they need us there immediately. There’s a helicopter coming to get us,” Y/N explained as she walked around the room towards her go-bag.

She unzipped it, unfolding her bullet-proof vest and putting it on. She adjusted her gun and made sure she had everything she needed. Spencer did the same at the table beside her.

“You are a badass,” her dad complimented her, filming her getting her gear on. “This is my daughter! FBI superhero! Kickass tonight kid!” He had an affinity for embarrassing her, but an even bigger obsession with showing her off.

He was like that with all of his children, first with her brother Harrison in the army, then with her other brother Levi and his swat training. Now his daughter was catching serial killers like it was nothing.

“Okay, we gotta go, the helicopter will be landing in that field in 3 minutes. Dad are you okay to take the car back to the dealership if this takes a while? We will be back for our suitcases after the case, I love you guys.” She said. handing her father the car keys and moving to put her shoes on.

“Got everything?” Spencer asked.

“Yep,” she smiled.

They walked out the door and across the street. Most of the neighbourhood watched a helicopter land in the soccer field as the sun was setting. They ducked as they ran getting in the chopper and strapping in.

“Agent Valdez, Nevada PD!” the officer in the pilot seat introduced herself. “We have just over an hour till we land, use the headsets to communicate with me if you need to!”

And they were off. She looked down to see her family waving up at them from their houses as the neighbours she grew up around took photos and videos of them leaving.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.

Y/N took out her phone and read over the debrief, “tonight at The Grove in Los Angeles, a small bomb went off killing 6 people and injuring 31.”

“Where did it go off?” Reid asked.

“Inside a small dress store that has been renting the space for the last 7 years,” Y/N confirmed. “I’m sure Garcia is looking into everyone who was injured or killed as well as the current and former employees.”

“It says here that the person who called 911 before the bomb went off warned of 3 bombs to come. Saying; ‘4 bombs in total the first in clear, the next is where her checks would clear.’” Reid read from the phone.

“So we need to find a connection between the dress store and a bank in the area,” Y/N said. “We need to go over that call more, have Garcia look into every aspect of the sound.”

“Where did Hotch say he wants us?” Reid asked.

“At the LA field office, he wants us working behind the scenes in correspondence with Garcia.”

Spencer sighed, “well, our weekend was fun while it lasted.

9:42pm PST

By the time the rest of the team landed and Hotch and JJ arrived at the field office, another 2 bombs had gone off at a Liberty Bank downtown LA.

“Garcia, do we have any connection from the dress shop to the bank yet?” Hotch asked.

“Nothing Sir, I have dug and dug and there isn’t a single person with a connection to both the bank and the dress shop within the last few months, I'm widening back 2-5 years but still nothing,” Garcia panicked over the phone.

“Is there any possibility our unsub is female? This to me feels like a scorned lover, maybe her husband is paying someone under the table who is cashing checks at that exact ATM that exploded and then went and bought a dress,” Y/N suggests.

“Garcia run with that as far as you can and call us back,” Hotch ordered.

“On it!” She cheered before hanging up.

Spencer looked around at all the info he and Y/N brainstormed while waiting for the team. “a female unsub would make the most sense.”

“Did we get any more clues for where the next bomb will be?” JJ asked.

Agent Cunningham from the LA field office shook his head, “nothing at the scene or over 911, we’re on the lookout for any suspicious calls and tips currently.”

“If you were cheating on your wife, after going to the bank and the dress shop where does she go with you next?” Y/N asked Hotch.

“Uh,” he shook his head, clearly faithful to his wife. “Dinner and a hotel?”

“So those are possibly the next two targets,” Y/N said, “but finding out what restaurant and hotel in the entirety of LA is like finding a needle in a needle stack.”

“I hate to say it,” JJ sighed, “but we might need one more explosion before we get a breakthrough.”

“All we can do is hope for minimal damage,” Y/N shot a soft smile over to her, “till then, what kind of woman in the area could make the type of bombs that are being used?”

“Almost anyone,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “I was just looking at the debris and shrapnel, it’s a fairly simple bomb that anyone with basic knowledge or internet access could make.”

Hotch called Garcia once more. “Can you start a search for women 35-55 who are married, ask the NSA if we can search through any women in the LA area googling how to make bombs in the last month.”

“Of course, I’ve also been looking at the past transactions of the specific ATMs that were targeted, 13 of the people depositing cash and cheques there, recently bought dresses from the store at The Grove.”

“Any of them look like they are partaking in an affair?” Y/N asked.

“2 of them are lesbian women, 3 are drag queens and the other 8 are girls in high school depositing birthday money,” Garcia explained.

“Well thanks for looking, hopefully, the NSA has some hits for us,” Hotch said as he hung up. “I guess we wait.”

11:56pm

“We’ve got reports of an explosion in an all-female dorm at UCLA,” one of the LA agents said as he burst through the door.

“Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi,” Hotch said, “go to the scene and find out everything.”

Y/N called Garcia, “as soon as we know what room the explosion was in I need you to go back 10 years of women who lived in that dorm room and their connections to older men. Sugar daddies, teachers, anyone.”

“The 911 call shortly after the bomb say it was heard on the first floor, possibly room 119 as that's where the blast was heard. Luckily the girl who was supposed to be in that room was with her friend down the hall so we currently have no casualties here,” Garcia explained.

“Thank god,” JJ exclaimed, placing her hand over her eyes.

“In the last 10 years, 6 different women have all had that room,” Garcia said as she narrowed down her search. “Okay, here we go this is the juicy stuff!”

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“From 2000 to 2002 Maggie Burton was working on a science degree at UCLA. She was working part-time, both years, as the main Chemistry professor's teaching assistant, she was depositing money from him bi-weekly to Liberty Bank.”

“Okay, who was the professor?” Spencer asked.

“Michael Thompson, 56, but that would be too simple now wouldn’t it?” Penelope teased. “Thompson is gay and has been in a domestic partnership since 1998, his Partner Adam Pearson, however, is bisexual according to the sugar daddy website he’s on,” she explained further. “Whether Maggie knows it or not, she had been getting paid to be Thompson's TA, as well as his boyfriend sugar baby.”

“So our unsub is Michael Thompson?” Hotch confirmed.

“By the looks of it, yes. Maggie stopped being a TA when she graduated and now she works with a cosmetics developer downtown. Every week she deposits 500 cash to the ATM, which is the exact amount of cash Adam has been withdrawing for the last 7 years,” she kept explaining, they could hear her keyboard clicking as she kept digging. “Look’s like Adam is filing to remove the domestic partnership and he bought a ring last week.”

“There’s the trigger,” Spencer confirmed. “Do we have a home and work address as well as where the next bomb would be?”

“Adam checked into a Hilton hotel downtown, suite 613 which he has been booking once a month for the last 7 years,” Garcia confirmed. “Sending the locations now.”

“I need a bomb squad sent to the Hilton hotel, evacuations should be done floor by floor saving floor 6 for last, I need agents on floor 6 to evacuate all rooms, except for 613, quietly without making a scene.”

“Sir, suit 612 was booked only for tonight by Michael Thompson, using cash,” Garcia cut him off.

“All rooms but 612 and 613 are to be evacuated, I need a direct line on the scene to room 612 when we arrive,” Hotch ordered as they all hurried towards the elevator.

—

On the scene, Reid, Y/L/N and JJ were sent up with the bomb squad to floor 6. Red lights in the stairwell were flashing to alert that there was an evacuation taking place, but the building was silent.

There were 14 rooms on floor 6, 4 of them being rented that night. Rooms 601 and 608 were the only two they had to focus on to evacuate.

JJ quietly knocked on room 601, “Hi sir,” she whispered. “My name is Jennifer, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your necessities and any other guests in the room, an officer will escort you down the stairs. In the parking lot across the street, there are people issuing refunds and information about relocations for the night.”

The man nodded, he quickly grabbed his things and followed an officer down the hall.

Y/N knocked on 608 next, a young woman answered. “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor-“

“I have 2 kids with me,” she whispered.

“Okay, are they awake?” JJ asked.

“My daughter, she’s 2, she’s out cold. My son is watching TV, oh my god my husband isn’t here,” she quietly panicked.

“Ma’am it’s fine, we have officers here to assist you down the stairs and across the street, there are relocation preparations being made. If you don’t mind, I can help you carry your daughter down the stairs?” Spencer said softly.

“Yes, absolutely.” She said, running into the room to gather all her things.

Spencer lifted the little girl up softly, not waking her at all in the process. He held her against his chest softly while the mother grabbed their necessities and her 6-year-old son before followed Spencer down the stairs.

JJ and Y/N stood in the stairwell, Y/N picked up her radio and called down to Hotch. “All civilians on the 6th floor have been evacuated.”

“Any movement in 612?”

“Yes sir,” one of the bomb squad members said. “With our tech, we can see 2 bodies in 613 and 1 in 612, all alive.”

“Any idea how many bombs were talking about?” Hotch asked.

“Not yet, we need a clear look inside the room. Snipers on the building across the street say the blinds are closed,” he explained.

“Hotch, have you gotten in contact with him at all?” JJ asked.

“No, he won't pick up,” hotch confirmed.

“Would you like one of us to knock?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet, I want you both to come down. If we’re knocking on his door we need to have a full plan in place,” Hotch ordered.

“Over,” Y/N said. Following JJ back down the 6 flights of stairs.

Down at the base of operations, Spencer was still holding onto the 2-year-old as the mother called her husband. He shushed her and held her close with a blanket over her back as she slept.

“Hotch,” JJ got his attention. “I noticed each room has vents on the connected walls, is there any way to get into 611 and snake in a camera to see what we’re dealing with?”

“That was my next suggestion,” a SWAT office said as he shook her hand. “We’re prepping the equipment now.”

“Can we also spray a sleeping agent through the vents? If we knock out the unsub we can just drag him out and see what’s going on?” Y/N suggested.

“Yeah that would work,” the SWAT officer said, “we have a sleeping agent in a compressed gas form that we can spray through the vents.”

“Okay, just in 612,” Hotch confirmed. Y/N I want you and Morgan up there to assist in making sure Maggie and Adam are evacuated safely while the bomb squad looks at what we have going on.”

“On it,” she and Morgan said at the same time.

One of the SWAT officers pulled them aside, handing them protective gear for the gas that will erupt into the hallway. She waved to Spencer in the lot as she headed across the street with the SWAT team. They ran up the stairs, it was exhausting but Y/N pushed through, up the six flights. They quietly unlocked room 611 and filled the room with officers.

First, they snaked a small camera through the vent, the image showing on the screen right away, “you seeing this Hotch?” Morgan asked over the radio.

“Crystal.”

“It’s a wall of C4,” one of the Bomb Squad officers quietly confirmed. “Fairly simple to dismantle, it looks like it’s a manual switch. Wait till he crosses the room, and then spray the gas. We need officers to be in the room as it’s sprayed. He needs to hit the floor nowhere close to the detonator.”

Morgan quietly opened the door and assembled the team in the hall, making movements with his hands as he instructed the men. The door kicker was in place, the officers were ready to file in.

The swat agent deployed the gas, they watched on the monitor as the unsub turned to look at the hissing sound, inspecting it before hitting the ground.

“NOW!” Morgan yelled. The door was knocked in and the unsub was in handcuffs.

Y/N ran to 613, knocking on the door as hard as she could. “FBI OPEN UP!” She yelled.

A half-naked man opened the door, “what?” He yelled.

“We need to evacuate the building right now, cover-up and follow me.” She ordered as the two victims covered themselves and followed her down the stairs.

Halfway down, she got a call over the radio. “Bomb has been defused, all clear on floor 6.”

“Bomb?” The man questioned.

“Yes sir,” Y/N confirmed. “your partner, and your science teacher, Michael Thompson, has been bombing places around the city that you two have been to, and was planning to blow you up tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Maggie asked.

“He’s under arrest, you’ll have your chance to ask him questions in court,” Y/N confirmed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

She held the door for them and watched as they were whisked away by EMTs. She waited for another set for the unsub before turning around and running all the way back up the 6 flights to Morgan.

Morgan was standing over the cuffed, unconscious, unsub in the hallway. “Good job pretty girl!” Morgan high-fived her.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “let's get this bastard down into the ambulance. The elevators should go back up in a minute.”

“What? No more stairs?” Morgan teased.

“I might not be able to feel my legs tomorrow, I’ve been up and down those too many times tonight!” She smacked him.

“Sure that’s why,” he laughed as they waited for the elevator.

—

Spencer and Y/N packed up that night and took a short trip back to Los Vegas. By the time they arrived back on her parent's doorstep it was 5:32 am. 12 hours since they were last there.

She sighed at the front door and called her parent's home phone. “Hello?” Her father's sleep-ridden voice answered.

“Hey dad, it’s Y/N can you come open the front door for me? Please.” She asked nicely.

“Yep.” He hung up.

She watched the hall light come on from the front door. Waiting for him to slowly make his way down the stairs to the front hallway. He unlocked the door and welcomed them in.

“Your mom cleaned off your bed in case this happened,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“5:30, go back up to bed, we’ll lock back up, thank you,” she hugged him and sent him on his way.

She sighed and sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She tugged her boots off and left them in the hallway. Spencer picked them up and moved them to be in order with the rest of the shoes. He locked her parent's front door and turned off the entryway light.

“You need water or anything before bed?” Y/N asked.

“No, come on,” he took her hand and walked with up the stairs to her bedroom.

She closed the door behind him, peeling out of her clothes and climbing into bed first. She got under the covers and moved the pillows around to make sure they were how she liked them.

Spencer crawled in beside her, wearing just his socks and underwear. He laid flat on his back while she cuddled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath as he settled into relaxation finally.

“I love you,” she reminded him.

“I love you, more.”

[nctyhoney]

a helping hand (m)

Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader 

Genre: smut, fluff, office worker!mark, friends to lovers, office!au

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), car sex, dry humping, praise kink

Playlist:  pickled ginger - mac ayres, fill my holes - YESEO, wait for it - H.E.R.

Summary: You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

A/N: Mark in a suit is just too damn cute. This is my first fic on here so thank you for reading! There will be another part to this at some point.

————————————————————————— 

It’s just gone 8 am and you're on your morning commute to work. You have a car but the traffic in Seoul made it almost impossible to drive during rush hour. Your eyes still feel puffy from sleep, and you hope your mascara has masked their appearance somewhat. As you and a mass of other office workers spill out of the subway station, you're greeted by an autumnal wind. Although it felt mild for the time of year, you couldn't get used to the early morning darkness that the promise of winter brought.

In just 2 years, you'd progressed to head of the marketing team at Hyphen, Korea's biggest publishing house. You were proud to have landed a job at such a reputable company straight out of university, but with each pay rise came more responsibilities.

The elevator reached your floor, 39. Going through to the kitchen area, you put two iced Americano cans in the refrigerator. You weren't a fan of coffee but it got you through the day. As you were organising the refrigerator, you felt someone behind you and turned around quickly - it was your manager. He had a weird way of creeping up on his workers and you found him somewhat seedy. You always made sure to be polite to him, though.

"Morning manager Kim," you stand up, adjusting your pencil skirt slightly.

"Morning y/n! Here bright and early I see. Did you get my email last night?" He asks, his eyes flicking between your body and your face.

"Sorry, what email?" You ask, feeling slightly panicked.

"This year's interns start today. I sent it last night so you probably didn't get a chance to read it."

Crap. Interns. You didn't know if it was your imposter syndrome talking but something about being observed by interns made you feel underqualified. Perhaps you just got a bad batch of interns the first time around. You remembered Kyungsoo and Minhee from last year. Kyungsoo's uncle was CEO of Hyphen and he wouldn't let you forget it. He refused to work and you'd find him and Minhee coming back from their lunch breaks an hour late, often out of the unused stock cupboard.

"No sorry I didn't read it," you apologise, "when are they coming?"

"The receptionist said there are four downstairs waiting. They'll be up in a minute," manager Kim says checking his watch.

You nod, "How many will I be working with this year?"

"You'll each have one intern this year. You'll be working with Mark Lee, he's Canadian. A good kid. I think you'll like him."

Just then, the sound of the elevator reaching the 39th floor alerted you. Four of the interns shuffled out of the elevator.

"Welcome to Hyphen, I'm manager Kim, you might remember me from your interview," he said looking between his sheet with their faces and names and up at them.

"So we have Mark, Haechan, Jeno and Sooji. I hope you enjoy this year working in marketing. This is y/n, she's head of this department."

You exchange handshakes and bobs of the head, feeling relieved that these interns at least look shy rather than cocky rich kids.

"Mark you'll be giving y/n a helping hand this year. Y/n, I know you'll make him feel welcome. The rest of you, let's find the workers you'll be shadowing," manager Kim says before they're off out of the kitchen to one of the conference rooms.

Mark is staring at you from a distance, awkward and tense. His black hair falls into his eyes despite styling it neatly for work; he brushes it out of his eye nervously.

"Tea?" you ask him, grabbing your two favourite mugs out of the cupboard.

"Oh, yeah, please - if that's not too much trouble," Mark says hesitantly.

"Of course it's not. You can sit down, we don't start work for another 20 minutes."

He does as he's told, opting for one of the chairs closest to the kitchen worktop.

"Do you take sugar?" You call over to him.

"Two," he replies, fiddling slightly with his wristwatch. This boy is endearing you think, definitely an upgrade from arrogant Kyungsoo.

"How are you feeling about interning here?" You ask, stirring his tea, before coming to sit at the chair next to his.

He takes the mug, "Oh, thank you. I'm kinda nervous I'm not gonna lie, but thankful to be here."

You laugh, his casual tone is refreshing but he catches on and apologizes quickly.

"There's no need to apologize, you can be informal with me. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," you say, catching his eye over the rim of your mug. He's blushing slightly, and you wonder why you are too.

♡

It's been 3 months since the interns came. December comes and with it is an endless rain.

In those 3 months, it didn't take long for you and Mark to grow close. Sure, he still had his occasional shy tendencies but you spent all your working hours together. Rather than a forced relationship between a senior and their junior, this was something you both saw as natural.

You're just not sure if the feelings you've developed are natural, too. His eyes hold onto yours for longer at company dinners, his hands linger at your waist when he reaches to get a file from the shelf in front of you. And it sets something off in you. You crave the contact. Mark Lee is driving you crazy.

You certainly weren't imagining these moments. You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

When you first started at Hyphen, Johnny used to be heavy on the flirting with you, and being from America, he was confident with it. He’d make you cups of hot, sweet tea each morning. He gave you those flirtatious touches on your arms while complimenting you, and he’d always make sure you got home safe after a company dinner. But he also had a long-term girlfriend and you knew nothing could come of it. Johnny still flirts with you, but that’s just him. And when you first began working at the company, you fell for it...almost. It happened a second time, with Jaehyun but then you learnt that these were just the ways of the office.

Today was a Friday, which meant your division would have drinks with the manager. You weren't keen on drinking, especially not with your manager but your coworkers made it bearable. And since the CEO was attending this week, the manager wouldn't be bothering you, Yerin and Mina for the entire night.

You lean over Mark, reading through the document on his laptop. He's edited the press release you wrote for a new book launch.

He shifts around in his seat. You can't tell if he's nervous about you reading his work or nervous about being sat underneath you. You hope it’s the latter option, though. 

"As expected from our Markie. You're really helping me by editing these documents, it's great - thanks," you smile, moving away slightly.

He's blushing a violent shade of pink and touching the back of his neck. He couldn't get any cuter.

"It's not fair that y/n gets such a helpful intern. Sooji left early when she promised to help with my reports, that's the second time this week," Mina huffs, folding her arms.

"It's compensation for the hell I went through with the interns last year," you laugh.

Johnny walks up to you and nudges you playfully.

"Nah it's not compensation. Y/n is just so hard-working, that's why they gave you the most hard-working intern," he says winking.

Mark looks between you and Johnny, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, thanks for that Johnny but that's definitely not true. Not the part about Mark not being hard-working...or me, I mean, I am hard-working, just not the most," you stutter, suddenly feeling foolish.

Luckily it hits 5 pm before anyone can dwell on your tongue-tied speech. You're all tidying away, turning off your monitors and getting ready for a night of drinking.

You catch eyes with Yerin and go to the bathroom to touch up your makeup.

You're reapplying a dab of lipstick and Yerin brushes her face lightly with powder. She stops for a moment, glancing at you.

"You don't still like Johnny do you?" Yerin asks.

"Johnny?! No way, I'm not going back there," you laugh.

"You seem nervous around him," Yerin points out.

"Come on Yerin, that was awkward. It's weird when someone hypes you up like that. It's bad enough being marketing lead now, it's like I'm expected to be some bigshot when I still feel like a uni student," you admit.

"Yeah, I understand, but you're totally capable. Could it be that you’re feeling shy around a handsome, new worker, I wonder?" Yerin winks.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've noticed that you've been spending a lot of time with Mark recently. I'm left to take lunch with Doyoung. I mean I'm not complaining but you know, Mark does look kinda smitten."

You look over at your friend and catch her looking back at you, expectantly.

"We have to look after our interns, Yerin. And it's not every day that you get such a hard-working one like Mark. Remember the hell I went through with Kyungsoo? Let's just say I'm relieved I've got a good worker."

"Right...so you don't think he's even a little bit cute?"  

Hell yes, you did. But you couldn't admit that, could you?

"He's cute but like, in a little bro way. He's too goofy for me to see him romantically," you bluff but you know Yerin can see right through you.

"He's an intern, what's the harm? As long as Kim doesn't find out," Yerin says.

"Yerin! You're talking nonsense."

"I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you," she laughs.

"The way he looks at me?" You blurt out, "The way I look at him? We're just good coworkers."

"Girl, you're such a bad liar."

♡

Yerin's words stay in your head for the entire night. Suddenly you're thinking about what Mark's lips would feel like against yours. Wondering what it would feel like for him to touch you, more than the light touches in the office. You've thought about it before, of course. But mostly while touching yourself in bed.

Mark is sat at the low table opposite you, Yerin and Mina at either side of you. Mark is laughing, taking a shot of soju as Johnny pats him on the back. He clearly can't handle his alcohol because he's giggling like a school kid and his face is already flushed. He looks stupidly cute and you realize how much you want to hold him, feel his flushed cheeks underneath your palms. But you peel your eyes away, tuning in to a conversation Yuta and Mina are having about Christmas holidays in Japan.

Manager Kim announces that him and the CEO will be moving to drink somewhere else, stumbling from the long table and telling you to enjoy your night. You all know where that 'somewhere else' is, but you don't bother questioning it. Corporate culture can be parasitic.

Even so, you're relieved that they've left, the atmosphere less stuffy now. Things feel playful and flirtatious. Jaemin is whispering in Jeno's ear and Jeno is laughing. Yerin's hand is dangerously placed on Doyoung's thigh. 

You can't snatch glances at Mark anymore because he's looking right at you, his eyes filled with something you haven't seen before..lust? Maybe your tipsiness is altering the situation but you like it.

“Shall we play truth or dare?” Lucas grins, clapping his hands.

“Let’s just do truths, we’re in public,” Jaehyun points out.

“I second that! But this stays between us, company oath,” Mina says, taking an empty soju bottle and spinning it on the table.

The bottle lands on Jungwoo first and Jaehyun and Mark nudge him on either side, laughing.

“Jungwoo! Who would you date out of everyone here?” Mina asks.

Jungwoo’s eyes are playful and he throws his head back laughing.

“You want me to be completely honest? I’d probably say Lucas,” he says without hesitating.

Everyone is laughing and teasing the pair, except for Mina who nudges Lucas in the ribs to stop him from smirking.

“Moving on, where is the riskiest place you’ve ever had sex?” Jaehyun asks, spinning the bottle as it lands on Mark. 

Mark rubs at his nose, looking at you momentarily. You pretend to focus on your soju shot but you’re listening carefully. 

“I mean…a car I guess?” Mark chuckles, he’s bright red now and you feel jealousy rising inside of you.

Why were you jealous? He wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Johnny is ruffling his hair but Mark looks up at you, looking slightly shifty. Maybe you understand how Mina feels now. You can’t look at him.

“Okay, moving on,” Mark says taking the bottle, “Do you like anyone here?”

It lands on Jaemin and he reclines back in his seat. He raises an eyebrow, “Sure, they like me too.”

Everyone laughs at that and Jeno just shakes his head cutely, everyone knowing they’re practically an item at this point.

“Who would you make out with right now if we were doing dares?” Jaemin asks.

The bottle lands on Johnny. It’s Mark’s turn to pat Johnny on the back now and Johnny just smiles to himself.

“Aren’t you gonna answer, Johnny?” Yuta laughs.

“I’d make out with y/n” Johnny shrugs.

There are collective gasps, and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. That wasn’t what he was supposed to answer, surely? He had a girlfriend; he could’ve passed on the answer. You look up at Johnny and as if reading your thoughts, he shrugs.

“I had to answer,” he says, putting his hands up defensively.

You laugh then, typical Johnny.

There’s a playful glint in Mark’s eye. Was he that unaffected? You suddenly felt annoyed, foolish for feeling jealous about Mark’s confession.

“If you could have a threesome with two people here, who would they be?” Johnny asks.

It lands on Yerin then, who is already flushed with embarrassment at the question.

“Doyoung, and hmm..” she pauses looking around, “Probably y/n, because we’ve seen each other naked.”

“What?!” Mark, Lucas and Jaehyun say simultaneously. Mark just about chokes on his soju.

“Calm down Mark, looks like someone’s getting a bit turned on,” Yuta winks but Mark’s eyes are still wide, shocked by Yerin’s statement.

Yerin was your best friend, all best friends had seen each other naked. It was perfectly normal. At least it was for you two. 

“It’s a girl thing,” Yerin says simply, taking another shot.

“Oh! I have a good one,” Yuta says grabbing the bottle, “Have you masturbated thinking about anyone around this table?”

Of course it lands on you. To be honest, you had touched yourself thinking about 3 separate people at the table but no one needed to know that. Everyone’s silent and you don’t know where to look. You could lie, it would save your reputation but where would the fun be in that? You were all as tipsy as each other. So you reply with a small “yes” instead.

“Who was it?” Jaehyun asks. 

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you laugh.

You try not to blush but you can’t help it and cover your face with your hands momentarily.

“She’s thinking about them again!” Yerin nudges your shoulder.

You didn’t want to look, you didn’t want to see if Mark was staring at you so you take the bottle to ask the next question quickly.

“How many people have you slept with in total?” you ask, spinning again.

It lands on Doyoung, his eyes are wide and he looks confused, you can’t help but laugh at his cute expression.

Yerin is smirking, expectant.

“Hmm...maybe fifteen?” Doyoung says, tilting his head.

“Fifteen! No way,” Johnny laughs but Doyoung just nods.

“You said you wanted the truth.”

Yerin looks slightly pissed as she pours another shot of soju. It’s only when Doyoung whispers in her ear that her frown softens into a slight smile. She’s got it bad, you thought.

“Let’s stop the game now, I don’t want to hear all these details,” Mina says, side-eyeing Lucas.

 “Yeah I didn’t even get picked,” Haechan huffs, “Let’s just drink a bit more!”

"Hey," Yerin murmurs in your ear over the noise a few moments later, "I'm going home with Doyoung, I'll see you on Monday."

"You naughty girl! Have fun," you laugh. She blows you a flirtatious kiss as she leaves, her arm in Doyoung's.

It's gone midnight when you and your remaining coworkers spill out onto the street. 

"To the next bar, let's go!" Haechan shouts, stumbling as Johnny props him up.

"Dude, you've had way too much to drink. I'm getting you in a taxi," Johnny says. 

Sooji and Jaehyun also opt for getting taxis, following Johnny down the street.

"Are you coming y/n? Mark?" Jaehyun calls.

"I think I'm going to get some food first, I'll see you guys on Monday," you say before you realize. You're not even hungry.

"Yeah me too, see you later!" Mark waves.

You say your goodbyes, leaving you and Mark to walk the opposite way. Mark follows your step, but he's taking his tie off, undoing his top button because he's hot from drinking even though it's the middle of December. The sight of him makes your stomach flip.

"You don't think they'll suspect anything, about you coming home with me?" you ask suddenly.

Mark raises an eyebrow and looks at you, "Who said I'm coming home with you? I thought you wanted food."

"Yeah...yeah, just they might think something else."

Mark shrugs, "Do you care what they think?"

"No, and I guess everyone's fucking each other anyway," you say emphatically.  

"Exactly. Everyone in the office knows we're friends, let them think what they want," Mark says.

"I guess you're right."

"So where are we going?"

"McDonald's?" you ask.

"I don't really feel like food, to be honest," Mark chuckles.

You turn to Mark, "You're seriously just gonna watch me eat?"

He shrugs, "Why not?"

His eyes are glazed over and shiny from the alcohol, his lips formed into a little pout. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right there and then on the street. 

"You're so weird when you're drunk," you say instead, "Seriously, where do you want to go? If you're not going to eat, we might as well go home. I mean...you go to yours and I go to mine."

Mark pulls at his ear, thinking for a moment. But it doesn't really look like he's thinking, more like pretending to think. You can see the trace of a smirk hiding on his lips. This whole conversation feels weirdly contrived. You want him and you're pretty sure he feels the same way.

"I could come with you? Just, you know, to make sure you get home safe," Mark blurts out.

You can't take it anymore. You want Mark Lee so bad it hurts. "Right, okay...well, shall we go now?"

Mark nods and you haul a taxi, just as it starts raining.

♡

Mark is stood in your bedroom doorway, looking as awkward as when you first met him. Now you're not so sure if it was a good idea to invite him in.

"I'll sleep on the sofa if you want," he insists but both of you know it means nothing.

You laugh, "Mark, you can sleep in my bed, it's alright. You can sleep on the left side, I'll sleep on the right if you want."

He smiles in response but doesn't move.

"Seriously Mark, I'm not going to bite," you say patting at the bed.

He sits down gingerly then.

"Your apartment is decorated so nicely," he says looking around your room.

You can see the moon outside of your window, already on its descent for another night.

When you turn back to look at Mark, his eyes are on you. You don't know what to say, but you know what you want to do.

"Can I kiss you ?" he asks, confirming your thoughts. He looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes again.

You nod your head, you can't talk but it doesn't matter because Mark is already leaning in and then his lips are moving against yours. His lips taste faintly of soju, but you don't care. You want to taste him and you slide your tongue against his, suddenly feeling desperate. He takes the hint because you're both taking off each other's clothes then until you're both just in your underwear.

"Wait," Mark says, his hands faltering, "Do you think we should be doing this?"

It's dark, only a street lamp and the moon partially illuminating the room. The raindrops are highlighted and cling to the windowpane. You feel melancholic and you realize now more than ever that you want to be held by Mark. You can make out Mark's expression, a mix of flustered and horny rolled into one. You know he wants this too, this dorky, shy intern who was barely able to make eye contact with you is now in your bed.

"Why not? There's nothing wrong  with what we're doing."

That's all the confirmation he needs because he starts to plant kisses on your neck. You stroke his hair as he makes his way down to your boobs.

"You're so hot" he murmurs, taking off your bra.

He nuzzles his face into your chest, breathing heavily before taking one of your boobs in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your nipple first and then sucks again. His tongue feels warm and wet against your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy.

"God that feels so good -  keep doing that," you breathe.

He hums in response against your boob and you shiver. You want to keep hearing him, that voice that you've dreamt about for nights on end.

Mark lifts you to sit on his lap and you can feel his hardness pressing against you.You guide Mark's head back up to meet yours and you're both kissing again. You grind down on him, both knowing you need this. You want to feel him against you and you can't control it. Your movements are instinctual. Mark understands because he's bucking his hips up to meet yours, despite still having his boxers on. You can hear him grunt into the kiss.

"Do you have a condom?" you sigh.

"Shit, no."

You break apart briefly, Mark's eyes are hooded and his lips are swollen. You're almost certain that you look the same.

"It's okay," you say, getting off his lap to sit next to him.

"Wait - what are you doing then?" he asks, a trace of disappointment in his voice.

"What does it look like I'm doing," you say, pushing him lightly so he's lying down on the bed.

You pull off his trousers and he helps by kicking them at the ankles. He's eager now, his eyes hungry.

You pull down his boxers next until he's lying there, his beautiful, fully naked body exposed. You can see the shadowed contours of his lean body, the smoothness of his skin.

You kiss on his thighs, his skin is so soft and you hear his breath hitch as you do it. He's completely turned on now, you're satisfied knowing you've done this to him. So satisfied that you begin rubbing your clit in slow motions as your face hovers over Mark's crotch.

You take his dick with your free hand and pump it in your hand a couple of times. The tip is wet already and you kiss it, the precum on your lips. He whimpers then and you circle your clit quicker, feeling yourself growing wetter. As you lick Mark's tip, his hips raise to meet your mouth.

"I can't show my face when I'm like this," he murmurs, putting your bed pillow over his face.

"No, I want to see you," you say, climbing up to take the pillow.

Mark just turns his face to the side in response, too horny to argue.

You take him fully in your mouth, bobbing up and down slowly before finding a steady rhythm. He groans in time to your sucking motion.

"Fuck y/n, I'm gonna cum soon," he moans.

You hum against his dick, "You taste so good, Markie. Please cum for me."

He holds your head, pushing it down to reach his raised hips and you can feel yourself choking as his tip touches the back of your throat.

"I'm so...close,  fuck" he moans, thrusting into your mouth.

He whimpers and wriggles beneath you, before jerking violently in large strokes as he cums in your mouth.

You swallow it up, but continue sucking, feeling yourself reach your own climax.

"Shit," Mark hisses.

"Oh my god, Mark -" you cry as you orgasm, your center pulsating.

You come to lie next to Mark, kissing him, open-mouthed and hungry. He can taste himself on you and he likes it.

"You were so damn good at that, y/n," Mark whispers.

"You were so good," you mirror, taking his now sweaty cheek in your hand.

"But I didn't get to do anything," Mark mumbles, placing soft, small kisses on your face.

"I came too. It was so hot seeing you like that."

"No seriously - I wanna make you cum, like for real though," he murmurs into your hair.

"Mm?"

"I know you're sleepy now but would you let me some other time?" he says in the darkness.

Mark's dark hair is plastered to his forehead now. He's hot and flushed, it makes your heart want to burst.

"Do you want to see me again? Like...outside of work I mean," you ask, brushing the hair from his eyes to look at him.

He nods, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing, are you asking me out?" you giggle, pinching his cheek a little then.

He smiles and you know he's blushing.  

"I guess you could say that, yeah," he laughs.

"I'm free then," you say, giving him a small peck on his lips.

Mark pulls you in for a hug. It seems like he wants to say something, whisper to you but you find yourself drifting in and out of sleep quickly. The sound of rain mixes with Mark's rhythmic breathing and lulls you to sleep.

♡

Mark had told you to wait on a nearby street by Apgujeong station. So you're surprised when he pulls up in front of you in his car. It's an old model, just about affordable for a student but it suits him well.

"I never knew you had a car," you point out, climbing into the passenger seat.

"What can I say, I'm a man full of surprises," he winks, laughing because he knew that was as cheesy as it sounded.

"Is where we're going a surprise too?" you ask.

"It might be," he says tapping at the steering wheel with his thumb to the beat of the music. It's a Lucky Daye song.

"You look so pretty by the way," he says, rubbing his nose slightly. You can tell he does that when he's shy.

"You don't look bad yourself," you reply. That would be an understatement, Mark looks like a full course meal right now. Skimming your eyes over his casual clothes, you remember that this was the first time you were meeting Mark outside of work.

You feel good. Despite how cold the late morning feels, the low winter sun is shining, the sky a soft blue.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask when you eventually realize that you're leaving Seoul.

Mark just taps his nose and tells you it won't be a long journey.

And he's right, in the next half an hour, you're driving on Incheon bridge, next to a stretch of blue sea.

♡

It turns out that Mark brought you to Incheon to eat.

You're sat on the floor at a low table of a seafood restaurant. Both of you know how good Incheon seafood is. There's what seems like a hundred different side dishes on the table, and despite both being big eaters, you're not sure if you'll be able to clear even half of it.

"Have the spicy seafood stew, it's delicious," Mark says, pouring you a bowl and putting it in front of you.  

You take a mouthful and he's right, it is delicious. It’s warm and spicy, exactly what you need on a cold day. Mark is looking at you intently, his eyes shining like an eager puppy. He seems happy to see you enjoying your food and that warms your heart. You want to kiss him again.

“The stew is really good for a hangover too, it’s probably what you need,” he says, smiling. 

“Hangover? I’m not hungover, do I look it?” You say self-consciously. 

“No, no, I just meant we both drunk quite a lot last night,” he says, laughing nervously. 

You blush remembering last night and then your thoughts flick back to truth or dare, and how jealous you were. 

Mark must be thinking about it too. "Have you dated any of the guys at Hyphen?" he asks.

You just about choke on your stew, "No, why do you ask that?"

Mark shrugs, "I just wondered. They all speak really well of you, especially Johnny. And you're pretty, why wouldn't they want to date you?"

You laugh then, "Do they?"

Mark frowns a little, "You don't like Johnny, do you?"

"God no, we barely interact these days. No, I haven't dated any of them."

"Did you interact a lot before?" Mark asks.

"Me and Johnny? No, has Johnny said something?"

"Nah, apart from saying he’d date you last night. He just looks like he likes you," Mark says, rubbing his cheek.

You laugh a little then, "No, Johnny has a girlfriend and I wouldn't date him now even if he didn't have one."

Mark relaxes a little then.

"Is there a rule about dating coworkers then or do you just decide not to do it?"

"There's no rule, people just like to keep their personal and work lives private and often separate," you point out.

Mark thinks for a moment, toying with the noodles on his plate.

"What do you like to do, keep things private?" he asks.

"Private or public, I don't care, they can choose," you say quietly.

"Okay...that's good then," Mark says, smirking slightly.

He always has a roundabout way of saying things.

♡

It's 5 pm when the wintry sun sets in Incheon. You and Mark are walking along the beach. It's not perfect weather for it, since it's cold and you shiver in your coat but you're happy to be here with him.

"You need to dress warmer, y/n!" Mark says as he turns to you to retie your scarf properly.

He rubs his hands over your arms to warm you up.

"I'm okay - feel," you say, reaching your hand up to his cheek.

Mark searches your eyes and so it doesn't come as a surprise when he leans in and kisses you. His lips are warm and soft against yours and you feel as though you're melting. The kiss is a light, sweet one and you have to break apart because you feel giddy.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he says.

"No, I like it."

You look into the fading light and see figures at the busy part of the beach in the distance. It wouldn't matter if you were publicly affectionate, no one would care. But you know if you start kissing him again, you won't want to stop.

You hear the sea breeze and then the first rainfall before you see it. It's soft and gentle but you know if you stand here for much longer that you'll catch a cold.

"Shall I take you home?" Mark asks.

You nod, feeling dazed and slightly lightheaded.

As you get into the car, Mark puts his Spotify on. 'Wait for it' by H.E.R. is first to play.

You peer over at his phone screen, it reads 'sex playlist'.

"There's no way you have a sex playlist," you laugh, pushing his arm playfully.

"Nah, it's just random," Mark bluffs, rubbing his nose in the cute way that he did.

"Well, whoever created this playlist has good taste."

"Yeah, alright, it is mine. But it doesn't mean anything," he says.

You raise an eyebrow then.

"Why doesn't it mean anything?" you ask. You don't know why you're probing but you enjoy teasing Mark, hearing him search for words to form an acceptable answer.

Mark just shrugs though, "I just like this mood...being here with you, I like it. This playlist just represents the mood."

"You're so good at bullshitting, Mark," you laugh but Mark is looking at you seriously now.

I know you on the way, but now I want it I can't take it I'm merely tryna chill, but I'm impatient Stay on my mind Can't sleep at night

“I’m being for real though. Like yesterday, I didn’t tell you but it was the first time someone’s given me head before,” he says, playing with his hoodie drawstrings.  

“What? You’ve never had a blowjob before?” you ask, eyes wide.

“I’ve only dated one girl and she straight up didn’t want anything in her mouth so nah, it was the first time and it was amazing” Mark says. 

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” you smile, feeling happy that you got to share that moment with Mark. 

You look at each other in silence again. It’s a comfortable silence but it’s heavy with intent. You both know what’s coming. 

"Y/n, you know I'm not good with words," Mark says and then he pulls you to him so that you're kissing again.

The kiss is different this time, it's slow and intense as if you're something he craves. It's the type of kiss that expresses he needs you now. His lips on yours feel so good and you kiss him back, mirroring his eagerness. Your hands are in his hair and then he bites at your bottom lip. He's gentle but it drives you crazy. His hands are travelling into your bra now.

"Mark," you whisper against his lips, "Mark we're in public."

"It's crazy, I keep wanting to kiss you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I want to kiss you too, all the time," you admit.

"No one's here to see and it's dark now anyway."

You look around and Mark is right, it is dark. The rain is lashing hard against the window now, the H.E.R. track barely audible. Your breath and body heat is already steaming up the windows of the car.

"Can I touch you? I want to touch you," Mark whispers, kissing your neck.

There's no use in trying to stop, you feel your willpower disintegrating by the second. There's a desperation in Mark's voice. He's wanted this for so long, and so have you.

Before long you're a tangle of arms and legs in the backseat. Someone might find you but that prospect turns you on more than you initially thought. Your stockings and panties are pulled off and your skirt is hitched up now.

Mark hovers over you.

"Can I touch you?" he murmurs, his half-lidded eyes flick over your body.

You try to close your legs, embarrassed about being observed like this. But Mark just parts your legs with a hand, "You're so beautiful. Can I?"

You nod, you're so wet and you want to feel Mark inside you, you've needed it for so long.

Mark finds your clit easily, rubbing at it slowly but it's enough to make you wriggle underneath him.

Mark leans down to kiss you hungrily. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he continues circling your clit, faster now. You moan into the kiss and Mark bites your lip gently again. That habit he had which drove you crazy.

He breaks the kiss, still touching you and looking at you intently.

"You're so wet, do you want me that bad?" Mark teases.

You bite your lip, bucking your hips up to meet his fingers.

Mark massages you in quick circular motions. You can only focus on the sensation now, coming closer to your orgasm. Nothing matters anymore, not Mark observing your body, not the possibility of being caught by someone, nothing at all.

"Mark, Mark - please," you moan.

"Mmm?" he asks, smirking slightly.

"I want you to fuck me," you murmur, suddenly losing all inhibitions.

"But we're in public," Mark's eyes widen and you realize he's teasing you.

"Please, please fuck me, Mark."

You've never seen Mark like this before, so in control of the situation and you feel disorientated because of it.

Mark takes a condom out of his pocket then and tears it open with his mouth.

He pulls his jeans and boxers down, rolling the condom over his length. As he touches himself to adjust the condom, he suddenly looks more like his nervous, boyish self. He concentrates when he's horny and you realize how cute it is.

"I need you now, please," you whisper, feeling increasingly needy.

Mark is so soft for you, you can tell by the sudden redness of his cheeks, the begging turns him on.

"Please, Mark," you mewl, scratching lightly at his left arm propping him up over you.

Mark positions the tip against your center and you whimper at the sudden contact.

"What would the others say if they saw us like this?" Mark says.

"I don't care," you whisper, feeling even more turned on by the thought. You're not doing anything inherently bad but Mark is still your intern. Why did bad things always feel so good?

Mark’s pupils are dilated as he leans over to kiss you again, and then he slips into you without warning. You feel yourself tighten around his dick and he feels it too because he's groaning.

"Oh my god, y/n, you feel so fucking good," he moans into your mouth.

“Better than the last person you fucked in here?” you murmur.

Mark is taken aback but he clearly likes the jealous tone. He bites his lip and nods “Much better, you’re so hot, y/n.”

Mark fucks you gently, moving inside you with slow movements. His breathing hitches and he closes his eyes momentarily. 

"Mark faster," you plead, your voice filled with innocence.

Mark puts a hand on your thigh and the other grabs at your boob as he starts thrusting into you harder.

"Mm fuck," you moan, feeling him hit your sweet spot.

"D-Do you like that?" Mark whispers and you can't even nod in response. You just know he feels so good.

“Who do you think of when you touch yourself?” Mark pants between groans. So he’s thinking two can play at that game. 

“Ah - it’s you, I think of you Mark,” you moan.

He licks his fingers before placing them on your clit and rubbing once more. The combination makes you a moaning mess and you can't think of anything but your approaching orgasm.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks.

“My god, Mark” is all you can manage. 

Mark's strokes get sloppy and he has to grip at your waist with one of his hands to keep steady. Your bodies are both damp with sweat, the leather seats of Mark's car underneath you are wet. You want to melt into Mark, you want to feel like this forever.

It doesn't take you long to orgasm. With a few more slow strokes and a rub of your clit, you pulsate around Mark's dick.

"Mark, I'm  - fuck" you moan, shuddering violently with every pulse.

"You feel so fucking good," Mark grunts and his praise is enough for you to tighten around him once more. He thrusts again, groaning in your ear before he empties himself into the condom. You feel his dick twitch inside of you and pull his neck down for another kiss.

It's sloppy and needy, your tongues against each others in desperation. When Mark breaks the kiss, he collapses on top of you breathing heavily. You both lie there, trying to catch your breath. Mark's dick is still inside of you though and you can feel the warmth of it and the now filled condom.

"Shouldn't we throw the condom out?" you whisper, stroking the back of his neck.

"I like this feeling, though. Can't we just stay like this for a while?" he says and you feel shy knowing he's still inside of you, that he likes the feeling of you.

"I don't think I can keep away from you," Mark whispers into your hair.

"Me neither," you say as he props his head up to look in your eyes.

"You know yesterday I asked if you cared if people at work knew about us - did you really mean that? That you don't care?" he asks, his eyes are wide like a puppy’s and you know you're too far gone, you want Mark to be yours.

"I don't care at all, Mark", you say, stroking his hair and then his cheek.

"I'm gonna pull out now," Mark chuckles, pulling himself out of you and taking the condom off.

He pulls his boxers and jeans up and you do the same, adjusting yourself into a sitting position.

Mark opens the car to dispose of the condom. Luckily it isn't as busy as you thought outside thanks to the uninviting winter cold and darkness.

As you both get back into the front seats, you look in the mirror, fixing your hair but not bothering with your makeup, which has sweated off completely.

Mark turns to look at you, "You look beautiful, y/n. Seriously."

"Anyway why did you ask me if I care or not?" you ask, trying to change the subject because you're blushing too hard now.

Mark drives away from the parking lot and back towards Incheon bridge.

His eyes are focused on the road but you know he's thinking of what to say next. 

"I was just wondering, well, if I can see you again tomorrow. For a proper date?" Mark asks.

"We did go on a proper date, Mark, we ate seafood and walked on the beach. I loved it," you say.

Mark bites at his lip. He looks nervous as if everything he's done with you so far has lead up to this moment.

"I can't lie, I really like you. Like to the point where I want to be around you all the time," Mark murmurs and his face is going bright red again.

Your stomach is fluttering from the sudden confession and you're can't look at his face anymore. You press for him to go on, though.

"Mmm?"

"Being able to talk about normal shit, do normal things, it's made me realize how much I enjoy spending time with you. I don't even want to drop you off tonight."

He clears his throat, "I think I've fallen for you, y/n. I know I sound stupid but you wanted to hear it. I like you and you don't have to accept it, we can go back to work and forget this ever happened, go back to norm-"

"Mark," you cut him off, "I like you too. I've liked you for ages, I just didn't want to be the first to admit it."

"Why?" Mark chuckles, his eyes wide. He looks genuinely taken aback.  

"You're my intern! Why would I confess first? That wouldn't be professional," you laugh.

"Well we're past professional now," Mark admits, "But if anyone asks, I can just say I've been giving you a helping hand." He winks then and you can’t believe how easily you’ve fallen for this dork.

As you drive across Incheon bridge back to Seoul, you look out of the window and see the same stretch of sea that you saw on the way there. Except this time, the sea is not a glittering blue, it's black, barely noticeable against the wintry evening sky. The passage of time in Mark's company comforted you, it reaffirmed how much you wanted to see each subtle change of the world with him.

"And to be honest, I don't care if anyone at work knows. It's better if they do know we like each other," Mark says quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke yours instinctually.

"Yeah, they've probably guessed already. I don't mind though, half of them are fucking anyway."

Mark laughs at your candidness. "For real though, the number of times I've seen Jaemin and Jeno come out of the unused toilet together is crazy."

"Don't forget Lucas and Mina in the stock cupboard," you point out, giggling.

"We're going to have to find our own spot before they're all taken up," Mark says, his tongue poking at his cheek. He was such a tease.

You could see the first few stars sprinkled across the sky through the car windscreen. The rain had cleared and it was one of those beautiful, chilly winter nights. Still, the stars made you feel solitary.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," you admit to Mark quietly. 

Mark nods "I'll stay. So the cinema and aquarium tomorrow, how does it sound?" 

"It sounds lovely," you smile.

You see the city skyline in the distance, nothing more than a cluster of twinkling dots. You're excited, the night is young and filled heavy with promise.

[lacharcutiere]

still [sawamura daichi]

1,6k words

previous | masterlist | next ➪

part eight of i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone miniseries. you can only put these things off for so long.

JST: japanese standard time (GMT +9). EST: eastern standard time (GMT -5). EDT: eastern daylight time (GMT -4).

tings // fluff, a little bit of angst, kinda suggestive at the end ?? // i swear this søng is abøut eating øut my best friend's pussy - cøzybøy // dm, ask or comment to be added to taglist ! minors dni.

☾𓆙𓂻

— JAPAN, SUMMER 2024.

the summer passes like this: you and daichi laughing too loudly in busy restaurants and train cars; having arms around each other in the back of taxis on the way home from clubs; making instant udon at three a.m.; walking up and down the neighborhood a hundred times; laying silently side by side and not needing to say anything. it's a routine, it's familiar—it's home.

a couple weeks before you're set to head back to new york, daichi asks you a question as you lay next to him on a blanket in your driveway, staring up at the stars.

"have you decided what your plans are after college?"

"i'm gonna come back here."

"i thought you wanted to go to grad school? you can do way better in the states, especially with a degree from columbia."

you roll onto your side so you can look at him better. "i know. but i've been away too long already. i miss you."

he gives you a little smile. "but i'm right here."

"right here is pretty fucking far from america."

"hm."

"hm."

that's the end of the conversation.

— 2 AUGUST 2024. 23:09 JST.

everything happens the exact same way it has for the past three years: he takes you to the airport. you try hard not to cry; you say your goodbyes. check-in, security, buy some candy to eat at the gate. board the plane. sixteen hours later, you're in america.

one thing was different, though.

when he said goodbye, his lips touched yours.

you don't stop thinking about it for weeks.

☾𓆙𓂻

— AUGUST TO NOVEMBER 2024.

slightly relieving is the fact that amid thesis writing and too many classes and working an internship under one of your professors (that one's nice, it even earns you enough to get a small apartment a few blocks from campus), there proves to be little time to be spent missing daichi.

you finesse your schedule to fit weekly facetimes on friday evenings (new york time) and shoot random texts back and forth about your day between classes and during meals, and without much space for anything else, it's enough. good things are worth waiting for, anyway.

— DECEMBER 2024.

but then winter sem break rolls around and there's no school so it's back to having too much lonely alone time with your thoughts. you write daichi a christmas card and drop it off at the post office. it's early this year, but oh, well.

☾𓆙𓂻

a week before christmas you receive a call from an unknown number. the phone speaker crackles when you accept the call.

“hello?”

“hey.” the voice on the other end is bright, smiley, accented. it’s tōru.

“tōru? what’s up?”

“i’m outside,” he says, “come down and meet me?”

you’re a little confused, but you decide to humor him. “uh, okay, give me a minute… do i need anything?”

“bring a coat, it’s cold out. i’ll be waiting down here.” the call ends.

a few minutes later you push through the doors of the building to be met with a brisk wind and tōru standing by a payphone, grinning.

“do you have your subway pass?”

you feel inside your pocket for it and nod.

“good,” he says. “come on, we’re in a hurry.”

“where are we going?”

“downtown.”

“ohhkay?”

he laughs. “‘s not anything you won’t like, promise.”

you follow him into the nearest subway entrance, lost in thought as you push through the barrier and step onto the train. it's only when he nudges you and says, "this is our stop," that you realize you've been looking at the ground the whole time.

tōru notices how absent you seem to be and asks, "are you okay?"

"i would be if i knew what was going on," you respond.

"yeah," he says, leading you up the stairs and into the terminal, "yeah, i think you will be."

you're in grand central. tōru asks if he can borrow your phone for a second. when he hands it back to you, he doesn't say anything, just takes you by the arm smiling widely and leads you into the fray of commuters that fill the station.

"tōru!" you groan, "can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"magnolia," he replies simply.

"we came all the way here just for coffee?"

"mhm."

"tōru!" he stops walking and turns back to you, trying and failing miserably to stop grinning for a second. "what the fuck?"

"come on," he says, "you'll like it."

"we've been here before! what's so special about—"

"you'll see."

☾𓆙𓂻

coffee in grand central is surprisingly good. it's also surprisingly expensive. ah, well, it's new york. new york has much more to offer than just overpriced cafés.

such as... this. such as a laughing man that leads a remarkably pissed-off looking girl by the arm, towards this stupidly good, stupidly overpriced café.

the pair are weaving through a stream of people, almost there, and then they're there, and the girl is looking much less agitated now. she looks somewhere between crying and wanting to run in the opposite direction. thank god, she chooses the former.

he loves you. so much.

☾𓆙𓂻

"daichi?" you mean it to be a scream but your voice cracks a little and it comes out airy.

he has the exact same look on his face that tōru's had this whole time. "hi."

"oh my god, what the fuck?"

"you said it was lonely, tōru told me maybe it would be nice for you to have a date for new year's, i had some extra money saved up. so i came."

"you— what?" you look back at tōru. "you planned this? just? last minute?"

"nah," daichi laughs, "no, i meant to come visit you for christmas a while ago. i already had tickets and everything, i was gonna tell you but then i got your card and figured it might be more fun if it were a surprise."

"oh my god." that's all you can think to say.

— CHRISTMAS 2024.

you can't even explain how good it feels to wake up and walk into the living room to find daichi asleep on your couch on christmas morning, how good it feels for it to not just be you. the whole time he's been here, though, you've forced yourself not to think about the fact that he's going back home in a week and a half, forced yourself not to do anything just yet. soon, though. just a few more months.

☾𓆙𓂻

when he wakes up, you're making coffee for the two of you.

"merry christmas," he says, wrapping one arm around your shoulders. he places a card on the counter in front of you. "open it."

its message is simple.

you do as it says.

"i, uh, haven't gotten you anything yet, but—"

"daichi," you laugh, "it's okay. and um, i may have also not been able to get you anything. also because i didn't know you'd be here."

"wait, wait, i'm not finished."

"okay?"

"what do you want to do after you're done this year of school?"

"i already told you," you say, "i'll move back home."

"no, what do you want to do? you want to go to grad school, right? continue studying here?"

"no, i just want to stop waiting." you sigh, a little frustrated. "i don't wanna have to keep putting this off, it's been—"

he cuts you off. "i'll be here."

"huh?"

"i'll be here. or wherever."

"i don't get it?"

you've always loved the way daichi's nose scrunches up when he smiles. "you're the one planning on studying more, not me. not immediately, anyway. i'll go with you."

"daichi."

"what?"

"you're fucking joking."

he laughs; you look so confused right now. "i'm not. promise."

"i don't even—"

"hey."

"hm?"

"think you can handle long-distance for five months?"

"uh—" you inhale sharply. "yeah."

"good," he says, "then we don't have to keep putting this off."

it's been five months since you last let your lips touch his. it still feels just like the first time it happened.

— 31 DECEMBER, 2023. 19:36 EST.

he tries not to let you pay for dinner, but in the end, you slip the waiter your card while daichi's in the bathroom. it's his birthday; it's your treat.

and after dinner, there's that new year's eve party that tōru's been going on about. it feels good, so good, not to be there alone. it feels good to watch the broadcast from downtown and count the seconds to midnight as daichi's arms are wrapped around you from behind. the clock reaches zero; daichi kisses you hard. you're both drunk on champagne.

you watch him smile across the room at tōru, who's got his girl on his arm. the two of them look happy, too. everything is warm.

— DEPARTURE: 3 JANUARY 2025. 08:15 EST.

daichi's asleep next to you when the alarm on his phone goes off. you'll miss not waking up next to him for the next five months, but at least that's all it will be.

he makes faces at you in the mirror as you both brush your teeth; keeps trying to tug your sweater off when you get dressed. you spend these thirty minutes laughing with him until it hurts. the two of you take the subway back to grand central; make out in a corner of the terminal while he waits for his train to jfk international to arrive.

"see you in may."

— 21 JANUARY 2025.

taglist: @sakruisin-thru @softetsurou @oligbia

[notbecauseofvictories]

i just got a new admin job working from home and...what is the protocol now? what do people expect when you're working from home? im sorry i have no experience with this and all my orientation is going to be online and ???

Congrats on the new job! I’m sure you’re going to knock it out of the park.

To me, there hasn’t been a lot of difference between working in the office and working from home. (Well, except for the changed dress code and lack of commute.) And the good news is that because you’re just starting you can actually ask questions like “what hours am I expected to be online/available?” and “how would you like me to demonstrate my progress?” and “what is the best way to reach out to you if I have questions?”

However, I think there are three things that can be helpful to think about when living the WFH life:

(1) Your day will have the structure you give it. In a traditional office, you’d show up in the morning, work until lunch, go home in the evening---and in between would be emails, calls, meetings and tasks of varying urgency, which you’d work on with/around other people who are also at work, working. WFH lacks a lot of that clear structure and direction. You have to really put thought into how to arrange your day to be successful and get done what you need to, whether that means starting your day early (witness me, logging on at 7am) or taking a deliberate lunch break to recharge, or investing in a day planner to keep track of your timelines.

There’s a lot of freedom and flexibility in WFH, which is great! But if you’re someone who appreciated the accountability of the work day, it can be a challenge to recreate that by yourself. So get ahead of that feeling, and be intentional about setting yourself up for success.

(2) Try to be on camera, especially when you’re starting out. On camera/off camera standards vary by organization, department and role, so you may not have control over this one. I definitely encourage you to follow other people’s lead. But if given the choice, I’d recommend showing your face however much you can/feel comfortable doing so. A little smudge face on a laptop screen isn’t much, but you want your boss and coworkers to see you as a person---so they should see you. 

Unfortunately, this will require an actual shirt and shower. My apologies.

(3) Communicate as much as you can, however is appropriate. In a traditional office setup, you would spend a month or two standing in your friendliest new coworker’s office and barraging them with questions until you sort of knew what you were doing. (This is an essential part of the new hire process, along with figuring out the closest coffee shop.) In the absence of that setup, you are going to have to recreate that experience with other forms of communication.

You can’t go wrong shooting someone an email, even if they call you back or reply in some other way. (Personally, I think it’s polite to email first rather than calling someone out of the blue, but that’s very much my own preference.) With the rise of slack/jabber/webex/microsoft teams and other professional chat functions, you have yet another way to reach out and ask questions---particularly if the request is more informal, coworker to coworker. 

Use all of them. (Caveat: as long as you’re polite and it’s appropriate within the scope of your work.) But I mean it! Send emails and messages and call people, schedule a meeting so Debra can share her screen and take you through the process that’s confusing you. This is another one of those things where you have to be intentional to make sure you’re successful. You should be asking all these questions, they’re essential, so ask---even if it feels strange to email the woman who theoretically sits in the next cubicle over.

Good luck!

.....also, as a postscript, you do not need a swanky home office (I work at my kitchen table) but do invest in some sort of orthotic support. My lower back is still punishing me for the 9 months I spent sitting on a bare wooden chair.

[utterlyinevitable]

Please can you continue the angst and do Bryce and MC breaking up after OHSY?

OK but... why would anyone break up with Bryce Lahela????? 

Bryce and MC (Becca) OHSY/OH3 Breakup 

Bryce and Becca’s relationship has always been easy. Everything flowed - their bodies fit together divinely. It was natural. 

So natural that they didn’t need to verbally define anything. They didn’t need to. 

Now that Keiki was at boarding school Becca could stay over more freely and more often. Nothing could have been better than evenings curled up on his couch with the duvet and a bucket of kettle popcorn.

As soon as they got the official letter that Edenbrook would not be operating any longer, Bryce put in for a transfer at Mass Kenmore. He’d applied to other places but Boston is where he needed to be. He has his apartment and needed to be close to Keiki. 

He was happy and a weight lifted off his shoulders when he got his acceptance letter. 

He kept the news mostly to himself, only casually dropping the info one night when he was grilled about his plans by the gang. 

He was attacked with a hug. Everyone was so happy for him. They celebrated with shots and then the afterparty in Becca’s room was slow and sweet. Savoring. 

For purely selfish reasons Becca would not apply to MK. She did not fit in with the likes of Tobias, June and Landry and really couldn’t trust a hospital that did. The idea of working beside them made her skin crawl.

But she didn’t want to be too far away from the life she built in Boston. 

So she applied everywhere within a 3-hour drive.

Nothing. 

No responses from anywhere, or bland rejections to try again next term. 

So she threw caution to the wind and applied to other cities: LA, Miami, Dallas, San Fran, Phoenix, New York.

Still, she hadn’t heard back from a single one.

In the office one night, while reassigning paperwork, she spoke of the issues with Ethan. 

He considered things and offered to reach out to Chief Fredricks at Weill in NYC.

She wasn’t thrilled about moving back home, but she accepted the gesture nonetheless.

The next week, she had a truly competitive offer from Weill.

The salary package and benefits were astounding. She couldn’t believe it. This opportunity was too good to be true.

She called Bryce immediately. “No way! That’s awesome, Becks!” “I know! And it’s not too far either, we can still spend long weekends together” “Totally. Look at us getting our lives together!”

Then, unexpectedly, Edenbrook was saved and Ethan offered her her position back.

She wanted to accept. Oh, man, did she want to stay. But the Weill gig was too good. Edenbrook could never match that. She’d be a fool to throw this opportunity away.

She declined and Ethan told her the position will still be available whenever she wants it. “You’re one hell of a doctor, Lao. When you’re ready, we’ll be here.” 

She thanked him and promised to revert back after her final year. “We’ll be on the same level then, you ready for that?” “No,” he huffed with a smirk. “You’ll always be a rookie in comparison.”

Later that evening, Bryce was waiting for Becca at her apartment. Every staff member at Edenbrook got the same email about their jobs being reinstated should they want them back. 

He was miffed she didn’t take the Edenbrook job. 

He understands her issue with the MK internal team but... her old job was safe. Nothing has to change for her.

That was the start of the longest goodbye.

They still made the best of their moments together.

He packed up all her things and they took a road trip down to move her in. She stayed in a family-owned apartment in Brooklyn and was lucky enough to save money that way.

It was a cute one bedroom. They christened it immediately.

As they settled further into their residencies and the weeks turned into months. The weekend meetings became less and less. 

Becca made a whole new group of friends and even ran into a few from her youth. She had a new local bar and 24/7 eatery. New parks and food trucks and cocky colleagues to help her destress after an egregious shift. 

Bryce couldn’t stand some of the MK doctors - they were arrogant and cocky, and not in the wholesome way he is. He tried to see the gang as much as possible. But Donahue’s was a bit farther now.

He spent most nights commuting home and leaving Becca video messages about his day when she’s unable to pick up his call.

Bryce never really noticed how lonely he was before Becca and Keiki made his apartment a home.

They’ve spent 4 weekends together before the distancing feelings started settling in. 

They were growing apart.

For their 5th weekend, Becca had to cut it short one day because of a case and then two hours before leaving Bryce was called into emergency surgery. Besides Tanaka, he was the only one available that knew the procedure forwards and backwards. 

Instead, they had a video chat date. They got in their pajamas and snuggled on their respective beds with a snack, some beer and started watching Deadpool 2 together.  

“I was thinking of coming back to Edenbrook next year,” she said randomly during the movie. That week was one of the toughest she’s ever had and all she wanted was the comfort she found in Boston. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in months!” “Better than when that hair product company sent you a free gift basket?” “100%. Without a doubt. I can’t cuddle my hair gel every night and leave kisses all over it’s body. I mean... I could but it’d be weird as hell.”

They talked about what that would be like and how fun living together for real would be.

Everything seemed good. 

They seemed happy. 

They seemed like they were planning a forever. 

Well, one of them was. 

Three months later Bryce finally made it down to see her. Their last few trips had been rescheduled again and again and again and it was finally here. 

He ran out of MK so fast no one dared to stop him. 

Becca planned a very lowkey date night for them in Williamsburg. They had Tacos at a pop up and drinks at an improv studio. Nothing seemed to be different. They held hands over the table at dinner, she rested her head in the crook of his neck perfectly carved to fit her. They joked and laughed as they walked arm in arm back to her place. 

Then why did they feel so distance? 

Why was she having trouble look him in the eye? 

Why did the edges of her lips curl down when she smiled now? 

He held her in his arms, folded her around him as they snuggled on her couch. 

That’s when she told him. A mumble into the heat of his skin. 

“I thought you were coming to Boston when you’re done?” Bryce was stunned. 

He thought they had settled on a plan weeks ago that she’d be back in Boston and they’d share his apartment and they’d start their lives together. 

“I was. But they offered me an opportunity of a lifetime, B. And it’s kinda nice being close to my family... I didn’t realize how much I was missing out on..”

He said the next words so quickly and full of honest intentions: “Do you want me to move?” 

She didn’t expect him to offer that. He knows how important his career is to him. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” “Sure you could. I still have three years left of residency. Could transfer nearby.” “Another transfer? Don’t you think that’ll put you behind?” “I’m the top resident at MK and was at Edenbrook. Didn’t you know?” 

He tried to joke but the way she wouldn’t look him in eye has his chest constricting.

“Do.. do you not want me to move?”

Tbh she hadn’t given much thought to her relationship or goals in months. It was all just wishful thinking when she spoke of things with Bryce. 

She had her eyes on the prize and that was becoming the best doctor of her generation. She’d been much too busy fabricating her new life.

“I don’t know.”

Bryce sat back. He thought she was the one. “What are we doing, Rebecca?”

She gave a confused furrow of her brows.

“Are we end game?” he clarified, trying to keep his calm. 

Her jaw opened and closed, trying and failing to find all the words she needed him to hear; “I don’t know.” “Okay. I’ll tell you what I DO know. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life making you snort and smile. I can transfer residency and move here for you. All I’m asking, is if you feel the same way.”

There was a wall of silence between them towering so high. 

“I love you so much, Bryce.” 

It was said so softly he might’ve missed it if he kept talking.

The sadness etched on her face and the light reflecting off the glistening in her eyes told him she wasn’t ready to commit.

She wasn’t going to commit. 

Bryce grabbed his bag, snatched his keys and wallet from the table, and walked out the door.

[anonsally]

Transitions

As much as I had looked forward to the relaxing of pandemic restrictions as vaccination coverage increases (it is pretty high in my county, with over 70% of the population aged 12+ fully vaccinated, and an additional 12% who’ve had only one dose of a 2-dose vaccine), it’s a bumpy road, and of course now with the variants and the number of cases increasing, there’s additional anxiety.

We are back to dancing in the studio (albeit with masks, open windows, and slightly limited capacity), which has been great. It feels like a real return to normalcy and a reunion, with joyful hugs and getting to dance together and be in the same space. I am getting to see people I didn’t see during the pandemic, and reconnecting with some loose ties I had missed. It is absolutely feeding my soul.

However, the return to the office is a different story. From March 2020 until a couple of months ago, I was very eager to return to the office as soon as it was safe to do so. I have adjusted to working from home, and can acknowledge that there are some advantages, but I prefer having a better boundary between work and the rest of my life. Most importantly, though, the social aspect of working in the office is something I miss very badly. I feel isolated at home. My life has shrunk more than I want it to. As a shy extrovert, I need more social interaction than I have been getting, but I am not very good at actively seeking it out/making it happen; having friends I saw at work every day used to be an important part of my social life. Furthermore, working on campus gave me a sense of being part of a larger community, a sense that is hard to maintain when working in my own living room. 

However, when the dates for returning to the office were finally announced, I was blindsided by learning that my work friends were not in a hurry to return to the office--even the one whose kids (who are old enough to know better) didn’t hesitate to interrupt her while she was giving a virtual seminar lecture. In fact, my work best friend said she wasn’t sure she would be coming back to work on campus at all. She pointed out all the advantages for her of working from home. She is an outgoing introvert, so she used to socialise a lot at work, but apparently it felt like a burden. She concentrates better at home and likes that she doesn’t have to waste any time getting to and from the office (though her commute was only about 10 minutes by bike). 

I suddenly realised that returning to the office will not be what I had assumed it would be and had looked forward to. There were repeated conversations about it over our group text, most of which consisted of me pointing out the advantages of working in the office and Work Best Friend pointing out the disadvantages. I thought I communicated pretty clearly that seeing these friends was one of the main reasons I had been looking forward to going back to the office, and that I would really miss them.  

It’s already a month since I had the option to return to the office, and I still hadn’t done it because there didn’t seem to be much point in going back if I was the only one. I’m not good at transitions, and the uncertainty and anxiety was starting to get to me; so I figured I should just do it and at least get rid of the uncertainty, which would presumably reduce my anxiety.

So I brought my desktop computer (with 2 monitors, mouse, keyboard, and all the cables) back into the office on Monday. But... it was really depressing. The building was a ghost town. I could practically see the tumbleweeds rolling past. It was exactly what I had feared. I saw only 3 people, one of whom has the desk next to mine--I was glad to see her, but she told me she will be working remotely a lot of the time (and she works much earlier hours than I do so there isn’t much overlap in our day). Work Best Friend kept sending texts about the possibly inadequate covid-safety protocols and policies, which increased my anxiety about a transition I was already struggling with, and I ended up crying while doing my grocery shopping on the way home. Bizarrely, she then texted a little while later saying something like “Are you excited to be back in the office? (I can be happy for you even if it isn’t what I want for myself!)” So... apparently I had not really communicated to her how devastated I’d been by her resistance to returning to the office, and by the emptiness of the office that day. We cleared it up that evening, but... I was still really down.

Tuesday I didn’t even go back in--I had an appointment and a meeting (and I needed to be home for the virtual meeting), and then spent the rest of the afternoon getting through some emails and reading, so I didn’t need my work computer. 

Wednesday, I brought my office chair back in, and luckily, the office wasn’t so deserted. There were several more people in, including one of our new faculty hires, and I got some social interaction in the office. Thursday, I had lunch with the two aforementioned coworkers (Work Best Friend and the one whose kids interrupt her at home all the time), and the latter came into the office to transfer her things from her desk (which was opposite mine) to her new office down the hall. [She’s been promoted to a faculty job title that entitles her to an office with a door that closes, as opposed to the open floor plan workspaces the non-faculty academic employees like me get. I’m happy for her, though of course a bit sad that she’ll be further away from me.] Again, there were more people working on site. 

Friday, there were only a few of us--I think a lot of people will work from home on Mondays and Fridays maybe--but I still feel reassured by how the office felt on Wednesday and Thursday. Several people who were there commented on being glad to be back, and also, more people will definitely be around once the semester starts.

On the other hand, one floor of the next building over is currently having a covid-19 outbreak (8 cases reported in just 3 days), so I am a little anxious that we shouldn’t be back yet. Campus is implementing a vaccine mandate (people can apply for medical or religious exemptions, but then they will have to be tested every week), but not until the 4th of August. I think over 70% of employees have provided proof of vaccination, and it’s possible that some of the others are actually vaccinated but haven’t documented it yet, or that most of the unvaccinated people are working remotely, but... it’s still a little scary.

tl;dr: Transitions are hard, even when you want the change.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

baby you’re like lightning in a bottle (chapter three)

Sorry it’s been so long since I updated! Teaching during cover times doesn’t leave much time for fic writing. Thanks as always to my amazing betas who keep me motivated @spiky-lesbian​ and @minky-for-short​

Please reblog and leave a comment on Ao3 if you’d like to support my writing!

---

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Peter Nureyev is stuck undercover in Oldtown High for a week longer than planned. Another week of boring lessons, feeling the pressure of an entire panel’s freedom on his shoulders and having to deal with his growing attraction to one Juno Steel...

---

After one lesson of Earth History, Peter found himself glad that he wouldn’t be taking any real examinations at this school. How a teacher could make the home planet of their entire species, the epicentre of their system spanning civilisation, now half ravaged by millenia of pollution and half the playground of the galaxy’s richest trillionaires, sound painfully dull, he didn’t know. But between a teacher that napped in between paragraphs of his monotone lectures and textbooks that were illegible behind layers of graffiti older than the students, they had managed it. Mag’s lessons had been nothing like this.

And it didn’t help that someone up there had decided to really screw with him. In between taking long sips from a coffee cup that definitely didn’t have coffee in it, the teacher sat this new kid in the only available empty chair. Right next to Juno Steel.

If the look on his face was anything to go by, Peter’s new friend wasn’t happy about it either. He was scowling so hard throughout the whole lesson, it was a wonder he didn’t have wrinkles at eighteen. Peter felt every blistering wave of hostility, whenever he dared do so much as breathe, shift his pen, edge his elbow even a centimeter closer to Juno’s.

And the cherry on the top of this almost unbearably painful hour of mind numbing, pointless fact retention and being stared down by a set of suspicious, angry eyes was the part of Peter’s mind still just stuck on how attractive Juno was.

Sometimes Peter wished he could reach into his own body, stuff his hormones into a very cramped box, lock it in chains and throw away the key.

But finally an ear splitting bell rang out and the students lurched to their feet with a communal groan of relief, not waiting for any kind of dismissal. Peter sweeped his notebook and pen into his rucksack, grateful to finally be able to get his mission over with and get off this planet with it’s suffocating schools and confusingly hot kids his age who hated him. Then he could remind himself that he was a thief with a cause and no other concerns beyond that cause.

Certainly not soft golden brown eyes and painted pink lips that still had dried blood smudged on them and hands that he bet would be soft underneath the split knuckles and calluses.

Peter stamped down hard on that thought, reminding himself of one of Mag’s more joking rules that he hadn’t taken seriously until now.

First rule of thieving, a pretty face is the most dangerous thing in the whole damn universe.

Nureyev made as swift an exit as he could manage, made easier by the fact that the hundreds of other kids in Oldtown High were as eager to get to the doors as he was. As he lost himself in the crowd filing down the stairways, he went over the plan.

He would go to the apartment Mag had acquired for him under the name of Peter Ransom’s non-existent father, go over his tools until dark fell and then come back to the school once the coast was clear. From there it would be easy. Break into the principal’s office, find the incriminating files on his computer, the ones that proved the school was being used to launder money by corrupt government officials, upload the malware that would snatch the files and carry them back to Mag on Brahma. Then call him and hear the pride in his voice after Peter announced his first off planet, solo mission had been a complete and total success.

Then leave and never feel the ever present dust of this damn planet on his skin ever again.

Peter’s imagined elation at the thought of it lasted until he walked out of the doors. At first the bright sun, unfiltered by any atmosphere, was all he could see but once he adjusted, he saw the line of vans parked on the front courtyard of the school. The ones with a large, garish cartoon of a giant bug on its back with crosses for eyes all plastered on the sides.

And the second he took to stop and consider this was all it took.

“Ransom! There you are!”

Peter jumped and turned to see Ben just skidding to a halt next to him, his face still split into the wide grin that was starting to seem like his trademark. And, of course, slouching and scowling behind him, his brother.

Dredging up Ransom’s innocent, grateful smile at seeing his friends was hard in that moment but he managed, “Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be looking for me…”

“Just wanted to say bye!” Ben grinned, bouncing slightly even as he stood in place like he just couldn’t help it, “Unless you walk our way? We’re going over in that direction.” He pointed hopefully, off towards where most of the cheap housing was in this part of the city, apparently immune to the exasperated glare from his twin.

Mercifully, Nureyev didn’t have to lie, “No, sorry. I live above one of the stores off main street. Other end of Oldtown.”

“Aw,” Ben’s disappointment was disarmingly genuine, so much that Nureyev felt a genuine pinch of regret, “We’ll see you tomorrow though!”

“Yeah!” now that lie felt strangely uncomfortable on his tongue, the regret not shifting, “Um...what are those vans, sorry? Just wondering.”

Ben looked over at them, “Oh! Right, you missed morning announcements. The school’s got a hell of a bad rat problem, they’re all in the walls. So the exterminators are locking the school down overnight, flooding the place with gas and trying to get them under control. Must be a hell of a job, they’re gonna be doing it for the rest of the week. ”

Nureyev’s stomach sank to the bottom of his shoes, “Wait...overnight? You mean all night? Every night? For a week?”

“Yeah,” Ben cocked his head, a little confused at his reaction, “Don’t worry, the rats don’t come out during the day. Good thing too, with those six eyes and teeth the length of your arm, they’d pick off the freshmen for lunch.”

Nureyev shook himself, realising he was behaving like an ameture, “They, ah...they don’t get that big on Brahma…”

“Welcome to Mars,” Juno grunted, scuffing the toe of his boot against the step.

Nureyev sleep walked through their goodbyes, letting his feet trace the already memorised route between the school and the apartment, not knowing what else to do. He couldn’t get into the school for a week without choking on rat poison.

So he was stranded. With nothing to do but attend high school. He could have screamed.

Remember the first rule.

Peter carried those words as he walked to school the next morning, feeling them the way a necklace that was just a little too big would rest lightly against his chest. Not a weight but noticeable. Enough that he couldn’t put it from his mind.

It was all the reply he’d gotten from Mag after he’d made his first nightly report, updating him on the disappointing turn of events last afternoon. The only way he could message his mentor without any kind of traceable risk was through the burner comms he’d been sent to Mars with, an old, clunky model that could only send the most basic text signals, no more detail than was absolutely necessary. Short messages were harder to track, especially across so much empty space.

He knew that but, still, it hadn’t been an awful lot of comfort, only getting a handful of words printed in eye aching green on the too small screen as he’d sat alone in the barren apartment on his thin fold out bed. He’d tried to read them with Mag’s gruff, friendly voice in his mind but it wasn’t the same and Peter had fallen asleep with the same bitter, disappointed hollow in his chest that had opened up when he’d realised he wouldn’t be going home for far longer than he’d imagined.

But this morning he’d called himself a childish fool and reminded himself why he was here. No matter what it took, Peter Nureyev would do the job he’d been sent to do. Would his father have spent an unprofitable evening sulking because the cause had asked for a few more days? Would Mag?

So he’d shouldered his bag, checked his disguise twice over in the mirror and set off for Oldtown High with those words carried in his heart. He hadn’t needed to ask which rule the message had been talking about, it was the one Mag had repeated the most, the one Peter struggled with more than any other.

First rule of thieving, be patient.

Hyperion City never seemed to slow down. It was the same in Brahma’s capital but there was still something staggering about seeing the same busyness, the relentlessness, the noise played out with hundreds, maybe even thousands more people than could even fit on the whole of his tiny home planet. The air was already thick with sharp tastes of smoke, the roads crammed with cars, raised voices echoing on the streets from open apartment windows and shop doors as Peter walked to school at only eight in the morning. Past the slight shimmer of the dome miles above his head, the sun was already baking the city, red dust moving past his legs with every gust of wind. It was going to be a cloudless day, one that smelled of hot sand and the reek of a city.

Before long, his glasses were smudged, his shirt was stuck to his back and he had a headache. Clearly the main streets weren’t the best way to get to school, even if they were the most direct route. Consulting the map of Oldtown firmly embedded in his memory, Peter cut down one side street and then another to reach the network of back alleyways, wanting at least a few buildings between himself and the relentless honking, smog and cursing that was apparently a feature of the early morning Hyperion commute. He’d take any scrap of peace he could get right now, even if it meant hopping fences and skirting piles of choking garbage to get it.

Be patient. Be patient. Be patient.

He repeated it to himself again and again, making it a command. It absorbed his thoughts so completely, the way things tended to do when he focused all his attention on them, that he didn’t see the figure walking through the alleyway just in front of the one he was in now until he’d been about to jump the chain link fence between them drop right onto their heads. Fortunately, at the very last second, he was able to stop his momentum and instead roll soundlessly behind a pile of full to bursting trash bags, hand clamped over his mouth and silently thanking his lucky stars that he moved so silently.

There was a heart stopping moment of waiting but no pursuit or angry shout followed him into his hiding place. The other person mustn't have seen him. Peter risked a glance, sure it was just some employee of the cafe next door or just a random passerby, someone wrapped up in their own inconsequential morning routine and that he’d soon be feeling very silly for his over reaction. It was just so hard to shake off the instincts of a hungry orphan who’d had to survive in a place where just around every corner could be a guard who’d kick him in the ribs for fun.

And where death could come from the sky above his head.

But, as he leaned out and looked, Peter realised he was very glad that he’d hidden. Because it wasn’t just some nameless citizen of Hyperion. It was Juno Steel.

He was different today, in jeans that were probably ripped both for aesthetics and with wear and a hooded sweater cut just under his ribs so his stomach showed. The combat boots were the same, as were the scabs and bruises from his fight yesterday. In fact they looked worse now they’d had a day to settle in, the one over his eye an especially nasty kind of deep purple. A smudge of eyeshadow in the exact same shade sat on the other, unmarred eye, as if Juno was deliberately trying to make a joke of his injuries. As if he was daring anyone to care.

Even after only knowing them a day, it was strange to see him without Ben. Peter actually found himself waiting, certain the other Steel twin would appear soon, perhaps out of the store Juno was loitering behind. But he didn’t. Juno was only waiting until the coast was clear before continuing on, moving in pretty much the same direction Peter had been about to head himself.

Peter waited, breathing shallowly into his palm. Well...he’d been going that way anyway? It wasn’t as if he was deliberately following Juno?

He used all the skills of moving unseen that had been drilled into him by Mag and, before that, the simple need to survive. He made sure to let Juno always be a building’s span ahead of him, using the muffled noises of cars passing on the street beyond to hide the rattling of fences and the thump of his feet on the ground, his eyes never leaving the back of the other kid’s head.

Before too long, Juno stopped, ducking though a hole in some railings into a narrow alleyway. It appeared to be empty, just steam from an overhead grate and a strong, sour metallic smell. But Juno had the look of someone who’d found exactly what he was looking for. Curious, Peter found another hiding spot behind some very optimistic, scrubby plant, managing somehow to grow in between the railings on goodness knew what. It was easy to disappear into the long, thick shadows of the morning.

After all, he couldn’t pass until Juno moved on, could he? And if he just so happened to see what he was doing then it was an unintended consequence of simply keeping his distance.

The scraping of metal took his attention away from his justifications. Juno had hunkered down in the alleyway and was prying up a sewer grate of all things. Like everything else in this part of the city, it must have been old and poorly maintained, Juno barely needed to strain to get the heavy steel disc standing upright.

Was he going down into the sewers? Peter wrinkled his nose at the smell coming up from that grate, heavier in the warmth of the sunny morning. What could be down there that he’d want?

After a moment, a small pink nose poked up from the circle of reeking darkness. Peter saw Juno smile and reach into the backpack he’d been wearing, bringing out a small parcel wrapped in a paper towel. Peter’s sharp eyes saw the leftovers of a breakfast, toast crusts and the rind of bacon, a little bit of apple. Smiling wider than ever and murmuring gentle hellos that sounded so jarring coming from the young lady who’d been so harsh to him, Juno began to feed whatever creature could make it’s home in sewers that must have been near toxic given the state of this city. Peter could see a set of tall ears sticking out now, notched and matted with filth.

Rats in the walls and rabbits in the sewers. What kind of planet had he landed on?

Peter could have moved on, gone back to the main street now his curiosity had been satisfied or over the roofs even. But something made him stay. Something about how Juno’s eyes looked when he smiled, a sight he’d never seen before. How it softened their colour to almost a gold, how they crinkled in the corners in a way not too unlike when he scowled. They just looked so gentle, a kindness in them that didn’t look out of place on his face, the way it should have. It seemed to have always been there, just hidden until now.

Suddenly, Peter felt a stab of guilt. He didn’t want to be stealing a sight like this, taking it without permission like a thief.

The irony of that unexpected feeling was something he’d have to file away for now and deal with later. For now, he would slip away silently, braving the noise and stink of the main streets, and try and remember what Mag had told him. Though it seemed to be sitting less heavily in his chest than it was before.

Same as yesterday, Ben came looking for Peter and found him sitting on the school steps, pretending to read a book on his comms to mask the fact that he was casing the front of the building and trying to decide if the drain pipes would take his weight in a pinch. Effortlessly, with no effort from him, he was folded back into their little group of four, being pulled over to the bench they’d claimed to laze and smoke on and deliberately turn up late for first period.

Juno seemed as surly and scowly as ever though it was hard to take it as personally, after seeing him spare what had looked like more than half his breakfast for hungry baby rabbits in the sewer.

Peter found himself stealing glances at him all the way through the day, in the lessons they shared, walking through the corridors with Ben or Mick chatting away between them, back in their little hideaway for another long lunch. Whenever it happened, he’d admonish himself and turn his attention back to something useful like memorising the rotation of the guards outside or seeing which classroom doors had broken locks. First rules of thieving ran through his head, trying to tug him back to his mission with Mag’s fondly stern tone.

And it would work, for a time. But then there would always be Juno’s earrings catching the light or a wry smile softening his face when Benzaiten made a joke or Mick’s story took a particularly absurd turn or Sasha made a particularly cutting sarcastic comment, his focus as they escaped the school again like he took his task as seriously as Peter had ever taken one of his own. And Peter would find his mind wandering.

It was like having a puzzle box he couldn’t solve. Peter was so used to reading people at a glance, in being able to arm himself with their insecurities and weak points, weaving his shield out of the strings he could pull to bring them down. Even if they were people calling themselves his friends or strangers who’d never give him a second glance, it made him feel better to have that knowledge just in case. He’d learned a long time ago that people could lie, that danger could come from clear skies.

But Juno was the only person who’d ever insisted on surprising him. On being more that Peter could tease out of his clothes and mannerisms, everything plain on his face and everything hidden underneath. He was a problem he’d been unable to solve at first glance, a lock that was refusing to open under his clever fingers.

Peter told himself that was why, when Benzaiten threw an arm around his skinny shoulders as they were walking back to the school after another long lunch and reminded him about the party he’d talked about yesterday, reminding Peter he’d promised to come and jokingly warning him there was no backing out, he only smiled, nodded and said, “Sure. I’d love to come.”

He told himself it was because he wasn’t leaving Mars while there was a puzzle on it that he couldn’t solve. He told himself it was because he was stuck here for a week anyway and he needed something to occupy his brain while he waited, Juno Steel was as good an exercise as any, like the tasks Mag used to give him when he was younger.

That was what Peter told himself. But it was the look Juno gave him over his shoulder when he heard him say those words, the look that could have been sour and exasperated, could have been surprised and maybe impressed and could have been all of those things at once, that Peter would be thinking about for the rest of the afternoon.

After less than an hour at his first party, Peter realised that Mag had prepared him to survive so many dangerous, almost apocalyptic situations, how to save his own skin at the very last moment, how to save a planet, how to play the parts of a hundred different people he wasn’t, down to the bone.

But he hadn’t taught him the first thing about how to be the kid he was.

At first, Peter had felt a little foolish when Ben had offered to meet him halfway to the kid’s house so they could all walk in together. He knew he was supposed to be playing the shell shocked, anxious new kid and should be gratified that it was clearly convincing but still, something about someone assuming he needed his hand held rankled him. It always had.

But from the moment they’d stepped over the threshold of the tiny apartment halfway up a rather badly slanting block, into a world of throbbing music, bodies pressed close together, the heady smell of sweat, sweet smoke and spilled alcohol and next to no light, Peter was glad he had some familiar faces to cling to. It was immediately overwhelming, the sheer wall of noise he couldn’t pick apart into useable information, the way people kept bumping into him like he was too insignificant to be worth noticing, how it was too dark for him to get a clear idea of where the exits were or get any handle on what sort of people were currently surrounding him like a tide.

And it was even worse when, inevitably, the constantly shifting gravitational pull of the drinks table, the small space that had been cleared as a sort of dance floor and the loose knot of kids smoking something that gave off a distinct sickly smell dragged all of his temporary friends away from Peter, leaving him hugging one of the far walls like it was a raft adrift in a choppy sea. Completely alone.

He told himself he was being foolish. He knew Mag had attended all kinds of balls, galas and events in a hundred different stolen tuxedos and stolen names. Peter knew how to charm people, he knew how to move through social circles effortlessly, he even knew which fork to use first if he ever found himself dining with Venusian royalty. But this kind of party was a different beast entirely, something he wasn’t even sure Mag would have been able to navigate. It was loud and oppressive, the outfits were sparing and caught the moonlight in distracting ways, people were shouting and moving in ways he didn’t understand. And it felt like everyone was looking at him with judgement in their eyes. Not that he cared.  

Peter looked around for Benzaiten and Mick with their reassuring way of putting their arms around him, for Sasha’s comforting, unflappable presence. But Ben and Mick were clearly very preoccupied, apparently drunk without even needing a drop of the many varieties of mind altering substances laid out on the far side of the room, dancing together in a way that Peter definitely didn’t want to interrupt and wasn’t even sure he should be looking at. Sasha had been pulled into a game of spin the bottle with her debate team friends, another thing Peter didn’t want to even approach.

He stifled a groan, pretending to check his comms just for something to do with his hands and to try and put off the strangers who kept coming up and yelling in his ear to offer him beers he didn’t want. But all that gave him was a depressing look at the time on his screen. Just past eleven pm, they’d been here for no more than five minutes. Clearly coming here had been a disastrous idea; he hadn’t planned for it, he’d let his mind stray off the task at hand yet again and he was paying the price.

You let Juno distract you, a chagrined voice murmured in his mind, somehow making itself heard over the music rattling the floorboards.

Mouth twisting, Peter shoved his comms back in his pocket and made for the door before any more thoughts could arise. He definitely wasn’t going to be putting tonight in his report to Mag, that was for sure.

Why this particular voice stood out when everything else was just a wall of incomprehensible, pulsing noise, Peter couldn’t say. Why it made him stop, when he was just a few steps from the door, a few steps away from peace and distance from the humiliation settling heavily in his chest, he couldn’t say either. But it did.

“Hey Steel, looking for someone you haven’t hooked up with yet? That’s got to be like, what, two people?”

Peter stilled, his eyes drawn over to the drinks table where a kid their age was leaning, a taunting smirk visible on their face even with what little light there was. And their eyes, sharp and mocking, were fixed on Juno.

Juno had been the first one of their little group Peter had lost track of in the chaos, something he’d been a little relieved about. The other three had been wearing slightly nicer, skimpier versions of their usual clothes, it wasn’t like any kid who went to Oldtown High could afford anything of ridiculously high quality. Peter himself had just exchanged his thrift store t-shirt for one that fit him slightly better, still with the same faded jeans and oversize trainers, something that wasn’t making him feel any less out of place.

But something about Juno’s outfit had been particularly...distracting. The same fishnets and combat boots as the first day they’d met, the same excessive jewellery and make up but now paired with a black miniskirt dress in some material that shone with a kind of iridescence, cut so the hem of it barely skated the upper third of his thigh. Looking at him dressed like that had brought a blush to his cheeks it had been very hard to keep at bay. So seeing him disappear into the crush of bodies, an expression like this was his element on his face, had been something of a relief.

But here he was now, looking just as distracting even with a dangerous look on his face aimed directly at the person who’d spoken.

“What’s wrong, Jones, sore I’ve never come to ask you?” he shot back, taking a long drink from the bottle of beer he’d just picked up, “Sorry, I just didn’t think we’d have a lot of chemistry what with you being a raging asshole and all.”

Something clicked in Nureyev’s mind, a memory slotting into place. This was who Juno had been fighting with on the day he’d come to Oldtown High, the person who’d blackened his eye and split his lip.

Something similar looked like it was brewing, from the way the kid stalked closer to Juno, until they were toe to toe. They were bigger than Juno by a good few inches, most people were even with the thick soles of his boots, but something flashing in Juno’s eyes made it not matter.

“I think I should finish what I started the other day,” Jones snarled, “Your face isn’t looking busted up enough for my liking.”

“You’re really welcome to try,” Juno’s lip curled, “See what happens.”

Peter’s eye caught movement at the kid’s side, just another shadow in amongst a room made up of them. They had a bottle too, hanging in a loose grip, Juno mustn’t have seen it and, nose to nose with them, he also didn’t see how it was rising, how their grip was tightening around the neck, how they were about to swing it’s full weight into the side of Juno’s head.

Again, Peter moved on instinct, seeing danger rising and snapping to attention with no thought other than to act. He surged forward, gripping the back of Juno’s dress and yanking him away, so the bottle missed his face by an inch. Carrying forward with the same momentum, taking advantage of the split second where they were trying to redress their balance, Peter palm struck them right in the nose. He had no muscle to speak of so everything Mag had taught him had been focused on using his opponents movements against them, turning their strength back on them when he couldn’t provide his own. So as Jones reeled back, blood flying from their nose in an arc that caught Peter across the face, he swept their feet out from under them, sending them crashing back so their head thudded heavily on the floor, dizzying them.

For a long, drawn out second, the whole party had their eyes fixed on Peter, completely stunned, Juno, Ben, Mick and Sasha included. If the music hadn’t still been pounding through every surface, it would have been deadly silent, the whole world shrunk down to this one kid, panting heavily with blood hot on his face.

What broke it was Juno, reaching forward and seizing Peter’s hand, murmuring, “Run.”

So they did.

Sheer adrenaline carried them forward as they fled down the stairs, out onto the street and away. Peter’s pulse was a racket in his ears, like the beat of the music was still following them even as they put blocks between them and the party. All he could do was follow Juno, their joined hands as unbreakable as an iron chain, as he pulled him along. The streetlights, the faces of pedestrians, the store fronts around them blurred into insignificance as they ran, he was only aware of the salty taste of blood on his lips and the heat of Juno’s skin against his own. He seemed to know where they were going and Peter was content to follow.

Finally they burst through some iron gates and were suddenly surrounded by trees, shoes pounding over pathways covered in leaves, the smell of rich earth and damp wood around them, so different from the smoke and stink of the city. When they skidded to a halt, it was in the dead centre of this park, beside a dry fountain, it’s grand curves and sweeping spouts looking strangely sad and barren in the night.

Peter’s lungs were burning in his chest and he spent some time doubled over, hands braced on his knees, painfully pulling in air. He could hear Juno doing the same beside him though, after a while, his gasping turned into rough, wild laughter.

Peter straightened up, frowning uncertainly. It sounded like Juno was losing his mind, laughing so hard he couldn’t stand up, sinking down with his back against the basin of the fountain. But after a moment, he found himself grinning too, thin shoulders shaking with his own manic giggles as the mad rush of their escape ebbed away and left them only able to cackle at the absurdity of it all.

“Did you see their face?” Juno finally managed to gasp out, voice raw, tears actually in his eyes, “You must have broke their fucking nose!”

Peter winced ruefully, sitting down on the gravelled ground beside Juno, “They’re going to be out for my blood tomorrow, aren’t they?”

“Doubt it, it’s me Jones really hates. Sad thing is, it is actually because I wouldn’t fuck them which is pretty damn ironic. Besides, if they do, you can just pull more of that ninja shit out of absolutely nowhere,” Juno snorted, “Where the hell did you even learn to do that? It was like the fence thing all over again, you keep doing the strangest, coolest shit with no warning...”

Peter swallowed, not sure what to say that wasn’t going to affirm Juno’s suspicions about him or reveal more about himself than was ever going to be a good idea, “I just...I just know how to take care of myself.”

Juno coughed roughly into his fist, finally getting control over himself, “Clearly. Jones was about to brain me with that bottle before you swept in and saved the day…” his expression changed then, something in it tightening, “Why did you even do that? Why not just let me get a face full of glass? I’ve been enough of a dick to you to deserve it.”

Peter dropped his eyes, “You have. But that could have seriously hurt you, they were going right for your eyes. And, well, Jones seemed like slightly more of a dick than you.”

“Slightly?” Juno chuckled roughly, his face softening again, “Well...thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was a moment of awkward pause before Juno leaned over and rubbed some of the blood off Peter’s cheek with a thumb, “Hey, uh...I do kind of owe you an apology. For...being the way I am. Ben and Sasha, hell even Mick, they’ve been giving me shit about it.”

Peter had to force himself to listen, so much of his brain was laser focused on that tumb against his skin, that touch, “I...I think I get it. You have a really good thing going with your friends and I just showed up out of the blue and changed things.”

Juno looked taken aback and suddenly the blush on his cheeks could have been his make up or it could have been something else, “Uh...okay. Fair. That’s pretty close to the mark.”

Peter cleared his throat quickly, realising he’d shown a little more of his hand than he’d meant to. He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol back at the party, or ever for that matter, and he hadn’t smoked anything beyond what already hung on the air but something about the split second fight, the running and something about being sat here with Juno now was giving him a similar buzz in his blood and lightheadedness he’d always assumed came along with that sort of thing.

First rule of thieving, always keep a clear head he thought and felt guilty. He was trying.

“But Ben basically adopted you, it’s not your fault,” Juno frowned, picking at his nail polish, “It’s not an excuse for me being a dick. Yeah, you’re strange and you know how to do weird stuff and there’s things you’re not telling us...but hell, that’s basically everyone.”

“Thanks?” Peter said with an unsure smile, making Juno laugh again. The lightheadedness got worse then.

Juno shrugged, leaning far back enough so he was looking up at the stars. They reflected back in his dark eyes, pinpoint sparks in what looked like nothingness but was so much more. For the first time since he’d met Mag, Peter got the sense that someone understood him. That if he told them everything about himself, his fears and hopes, the planets he wanted to walk on some day, the world he wanted to make for himself and why, Juno would understand. Maybe even in a way Mag didn’t.

And he couldn’t say a word to him. He didn’t even know his real last name.

At that moment, Peter Nureyev could have cried.

“Bet Benten’s already texted me a million times,” Juno sighed, “Worrying about where I am’s probably really cutting into his making out with Mick time.”

Peter forced a smile, “We could go back.”

Juno paused then shook his head, voice softer and quieter than before, “Nah. Not yet. Five more minutes.”

Relief poured through Peter’s chest, even with the sadness still smouldering like embers in his stomach that wouldn’t go out. He wasn’t ready to go back either.

“Hey, huddle in, would ya, it’s freezing,” Juno grunted, suddenly drawing right up close until his side was flush against Peter’s, even going as far as to rest his head on Peter’s shoulder.

Despite what he’d said, his skin was so warm and he smelled of pot smoke, cheap beer and some flowery perfume. His head was heavy on Peter’s thin shoulder and his curls tickled his nose. But Peter couldn’t have moved away if his life depended on it.

Because even if he couldn’t have that understanding, even if he couldn’t let Juno really see him, he could have this. He could have these bitterly cold five minutes in a darkened park by a broken fountain with uncomfortable gravel under his ass, blood drying on his cheek and another boy’s head on his shoulder.

And if that was all he’d ever get, then Peter Nureyev was grabbing it with both hands and never letting go.

[prorevenge]

I end up working for the scammer who conned my parents.

So, this tale starts twelve years ago in 2007. Both my parents had retired at the same time and had received a large cash lump sum and would have a decent pension income for the rest of their lives. Dad was ex-Army, doing his national service and staying for another 8 years before travelling the world. He served with the Royal Engineers and moved into an engineering/maintenance role when he returned to the civillian life. Mum was a teacher, and with careful savings and multiple pensions they had more money coming in individually than I did in a salary.

The first thing they did was to renovate their house. They got several quotes for new windows, some minor building work, a new kitchen and a block-paved driveway. I helped them with researching the companies involved and with all the information at hand, they settled on a local company that we'll call Bad Company. Bad Company had membership of all the relevant professional bodies, had some good feedback and importantly was not the cheapest but their sales guy explained to my parents why a cheaper quote wasn't always better. They agreed on the £35k work and paid a 10% deposit. Work started, and they weren't asked for a single penny more until it had been completed. There were a couple of minor snags which were easily corrected, and it went £500 over budget due to the bad drainage of the house (something that had been mentioned before) but it looked satisfactory.

As it turned out, the windows had massive gaps in them that leaked water when it rained and you could actually hear the wind whistling through. Heating became expensive. Within a month, weeds and grass started poking through the block paved driveway and the electical work that was done in the new kitchen caused blown fuses if both ovens and the hob were turned on together. If you touched the plate around the light switch, you'd get an electric shock. After three months, water burst through the newly laid kitchen floor and the "Secured By Design" doors could simply be lifted out of their frame even when locked. We also noticed that they keys to the new doors were not the originals, and they were extremely difficult to lock especially as both parents had arthritis. The icing on the cake was that most of the windows were supposed to be argon filled, but the seals had already blown allowing air inside and condensation on the inside was apparent.

Dad asked a friend, Bob, to estimate the extra cost of fixing it. Bob said that to correct the now evident defects would cost nearly £20k as almost everything would have to be ripped out and re-done. Dad immediately contacted Bad Company, and the guy they sent round was rude, arrogant and blamed everything on the builders who had originally constructed the house doing a bad job. He wrote a report stating that none of the defects were down to the work carried out as the work had been done according to current best practices. That evening, one of the window frames fell out.

Dad spent a month after that trying to get Bad Company back to fix the issues, then he called all the regulatory bodies to find that Bad Company wasn't a member but just used the membership logos on their documentation. Around a year after the work was originally completed, Bad Company simply vanished. Phone numbers were disconnected emails bounced back and their office was now a conservatory showroom. Dad had already paid a well estabished window company £3k to fix the immediate window and door issues, and was left to pay another (much better) company £22k to fix the issues. This time we checked everything and made sure they were registered. We even got a warranty.

Cut to 2018, and I'm looking for a new job. Dad passed away quite unexpectedly in 2015 and Mum wasn't too good either (although she's a lot better now) so I needed a job closer to her house than the 2 hour commute to the next city that I currently had. As luck would have it, a local kitchen manufacturing company (lets call them Local Kitchens) was looking to expand and wanted an IT technician/developer. The pay was about £1k more a year than I was currently making, but I didn't have to spend £500 a month travelling to and from work (busses and trains are expensive). I interviewed, liked what I heard, and was accepted for the role. All the time, I thought that I somehow knew the boss of Local Kitchens.

Having worked in factory environments before, I arrived in a hi-viz vest, toecapped boots and with my own ear defenders. No-one else wore any P.P.E. - not even masks and goggles. When all the machinery ran, the factory floor hummed and buzzed along at a noise level of 105dB, well over the required minimum for wearing ear defenders or plugs. The boss, who we'll call John, also attempted to cut corners everywhere. My workstation was barely powerful enough to run the development software let alone the CAD/CAM software required. When the CPU fan died, he said that he couldn't afford to replace the fan. A new computer keyboard took 3 weeks to arrive and although we were paid on the 28th of each month, the pay was often not in the bank until 9pm, well after he had chased people who owed him money.

There were more lies that I uncovered, and bad business practices. It was like John had read a book on running a business then did the exact opposite. I spent the first six months between designing kitchens - something that I knew nothing about but suddenly fell under the remit of IT technician - maintaining the factory machines, driving the forklift (something that requires a specialist license that I don't hold) and doing IT work on his personal home computer equipment and mobile phones of him, his trophy wife, his kids and his parents. I also wrote several small computer programs, wired up the factory network, ensured that machinery could connect to the office computers and re-wrote most of the configuration for the industry specific software he used - which was not only unlicensed but also used on five separate machines despite the single (lapsed) license.

Also working at the company was Dad's friend Bob. Bob was a decade and a half older than me and had served his time "working the tools" making and fitting kitchens, bedrooms, and had spent a good fifteen years as a shopfitter on some very prestigious contracts. Bob was hired originally to do my job but he moved back to the manufacturing side when the expansion started as it was easier to employ an IT tech than it was a shopfitter. Bob had read an eulogy at Dad's funeral and was often round helping mum with bits around the house, so I knew Bob well and he looked after me at work. We got talking one day and I found out that Bob was earning less than me, even though he had a highly skilled and experienced role, and that despite being given more responsibility, John refused to pay Bob what Bob was worth.

Honestly, if Bob wasn't there, most of the knowledge was lost. Bob and I had frequently told John better ways to do key tasks, but John refused simply because there would be a small cash outlay. I should have seen the writing on the wall at that point, but no.

Running up to Christmas, John tells us all that he's giving us all a bonus, and will pay us early for the christmas to new year shutdown period. We soon discover though that the bonus was a £5 tub of sweets - which Bob can't eat because he has type 1 diabeties, and I can't eat because I have this really strange sugar allergy. I was going to mention it to John, but Bob tells me not to as it's Christmas and it will be something for my kids to enjoy. I actually ended up with three boxes of sweets because he over-ordered.

That day, despite being an IT technician, I had to chase an order with a company, order some materials from a supplier, and supervise a fitter as he attempted to install some new showroom units. John is nowhere to be found until just as we're about to leave. He asked Bob for a moment of his time and I go home.

The next day, Bob tells me that he and John talked until 7pm (an extra 3 hours) about the business. Bob was asked to invest £10k for a quick capital injection as winter is always a bad time for people buying kitchens, so income is slow but there are a number of large orders in the pipeline. Bob told him what he thought of the shady business practices and the poor management, and he said that he could walk out of this job today and be earning double before the year is out. He refused to invest. Other things were said, and Bob dropped the first bombshell, explaining that every job they did for a new client was actually making a loss. The new client had been Local Kitchens only revenue stream since mid October. Apparently John was genuinely shocked and didn't realise that it cost him £200 per hour just to run his business, jumping to £300 if the machinery is running.

The day before we're due to finish for Christmas, I get called into the nearly complete new showroom. I thought John was going to show me what needs finishing and which units need designing, but no. He's worked out the finances and states that there's only enough money to keep me on for another couple of months. He even tries to turn it around by saying that he's sorry and that I'm a good employee but the income isn't there, and he wanted to give me enough time to find something else. I felt my entire world crumble. The rest of the day was a daze, but just before I left, I overhear him ordering some materials from a supplier. His exact words were: Yes, it's John from Local Kitchens. You might have us down as Bad Company.

That's when all the pieces fell into place. It finally clicked why I knew his face. He was the one who scammed my parents.

The last day of work before Christmas arrives, and John had taken his family away over the christmas / new year period. We had to ensure that the factory was powered down, locked off and secure. No-one else wanted the responsibility so I volunteered. With only Bob and myself still left in the factory, I set about gathering evidence and investigating his finances. I already know about the losses, but digging deeper I find that the company actually has no cash flow. Everything is done on credit. His house, his wife's Range Rover, his Jaguar and several other assets are registered as company assets but they're all on finance through Local Kitchens. He owed at least £750k in credit, loans and mortgages.

Bob advised me against doing anything rash as it would only come back to me and agreed that John needed to be taught a lesson not just for the way he treated his empolyees, but for conning my parents and several others out of their life savings. Bob had found a set of files from 2005 to 2008 with customer complaints for shoddy work in the name of Bad Company. It was far too late to legally do anything about the complaints, but we could bring down John and his smug attitude. Bob suggested I read up on health and safety over christmas, and perform some observations in the new year.

January and February I spent making notes, taking photographs and researching legislation. By the time the end of February rolled around, I had a thick folder full of breaches of health and safety, environmental issues, data protection (or lack thereof) and the lack of software licensing. John was well aware of the software issue, but he said that "as long as the software keeps running, it'll be ok". I had emals from him to back this up, and requests for purchases of software and hardware that were turned down so he could dine out at fancy restaurants or stay in 4 star hotels.

My last day rolls around. I have a much better development job lined up thanks to some recruiter contacts I have, and as the current day was a Thursday and I didn't start my new job until Monday, I planned on sleeping in on Friday. John is strangely absent all day but arrives just as we're all leaving for the day. HE SAYS NOTHING as he watches me leave. I got the impression immediately that he wanted me to stay until Friday, but he said that my last day was "the end of the month" and not "Friday". Unsuprisingly, the pay is late. It's 10pm before it appears in the account.

I went to see my mum that evening and told her who my boss was, the way he simply cast me aside when he was done with me, and that I wanted to break him as revenge for the bad work and what we have always considered as a scam. Now, my mum is the sweetest lady you could ever meet, and I was completely shocked when she actually said "bury the bastard". She even let me use her garden incinerator to destroy the personal hand-written instructions that Bob and myself had created since I started. The knowledge of how to fix issues with the specialist software now only existed in our memories.

Friday rolls around, and I have no reason to get up early. My phone is ringing constantly becuase John is trying to get hold of me and it's soon evident that things are going south, rapidly. Bob sent me a text telling me that he gave John a final invoice at 8AM and walked out. Now, had this been petty revenge then the tale would have ended here with him not being able to use his business-critical unlicensed software, and hiring new people, but this is Pro revenge and my mother did tell me to "bury the bastard" so despite feeling sorry for the one other genuine employee that I had a lot of respect for, I enacted my totally legal if not a little underhanded plan.

I reported Local Kitchens and John to the Federation against Software Theft for illegal use of licensed software, giving them information regarding which software was illegally used and how. Just to be safe, I also reported them directly to those software companies too. I supplied the emails as evidence where I had explained to John that he was breaking the law by not having the correct and valid licenses.

I then called a friend at the local government Health and Safety team, reporting no fewer than thirty rule breaches, sending him the supporting images and video. One of Local Kitchens professional memberships had lapsed, but John was still using the logo on paperwork, email signatures, website and the company van, in addition to the signage on the building. I reported that to the professional body in question. I honesly considered reporting GDPR breaches, but I don't think that he had done anything that could be considered a breach.

A week later, John sent me a message stating that If I was still looking for work, he would pay me £50 per day to do "IT work" for him. It came across as if he was trying to do me a favour. I told him that I was previously on £90 per day, but as I was now a freelance contractor, the going rate was closer to £200 per day. He didn't send me another message.

Three weeks later, and the showroom saleswoman - who we'll call Jane (the one remaining staff member I respected) called me to tell me that John had closed Local Kitchens and declared bankruptcy owing nearly a million pounds. I asked about fines, and she said that Health and Safety were behind a building closure which stopped production causing the bankruptcy. In the same week, he had legal notices for illegal software.

As this unfolded, I kept Bob in the loop and Jane kept me informed. As of the start of July, the final figure for fines was levied. £932k debts to the business, £876k fines too. On that same day, purely by chance I was helping a friend deliver pizza and John placed an order My friend was driving and doing the shop work, and I was going to the door to hand the food over, so I actually got to deliver his food. He was nice enough to me when he opened the door, and stated that if I had done the extra "IT Work" for him then I wouldn't have to deliver pizza. I told him that it was what it was, and questioned the fact that there was only enough for 1 meal - didn't his wife like pizza? He told me that she'd left him and taken the kids back to her parents, and that he wasn't OK with that but he had no choice. I agreed, an then decided to twist the knife even more.

I told him that it was a good job he got rid of me when he did, because I now had a fantastic well-paid job that I'm good at, and that if I had stayed, then I would have brought myself down as well as him. That's when he realised that I had called in all the agencies that had eventually shut him down. He demanded to know why, as he had "given me everything" and "taught me how to work in the kitchen industry". I simply replied with my parents address and the year 2007. I saw the colour drain from his face as he realised that his past had caught up with him. Then I told him how much he had to pay on his pizza, and he threw £40 at me and snatched the food out of my hands, slamming the door in my face. His food was only £21.50, so I got a nice £18.50 tip from him that night.

(source) story by (/u/tac-21a)

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

Lady of the Lake

Pairing: Ginger Ale/Elizabeth x Merlin/Hamish

Warnings: None

A/N:  I’m back and this time continuing the world I started with some Ginger Ale/Merlin.  This series starts a year before the modern-day events of California and will run concurrent with that timeline by Part 6.  However, you can read this one just fine without having read California, although you should because apparently people around here liked it?  Anyway, enjoy!

Reminder: I haven’t seen Kingsman: The Golden Circle, so I’m just using the Wikia, IMDB.com, some gifs, and my own weird ass brain to make up this whole ass story.

Tag List:  @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @tarrevizslas , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder, @lavenderl3mons , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale [please message me to be added or subtracted if you were just here for some Jack Daniels goodness!  I don’t want people being tagged in something they don’t want]

[PART 1] [PART 2]  [PART 3]

Part 1

 M'eudail

A Year Ago

Ginger Ale sat back in her chair while closing her eyes and rolling her neck, making a weak attempt to work out the kinks that were ruining her concentration.  She glanced at the date on the calendar and realized it was her seventh working day in a row, and the long hours were taking their toll.  For the last year, Ginger and her staff had been working to support the ever-growing caseload of the Statesman while lending their knowledge and labs to rebuild Kingsman after their destruction.

Few of the recruits coming through training wanted to work in tech, so the workload fell on her small staff and as many admins as she could beg, borrow, and steal.  Sometimes Ginger found herself conscripting Shirley Temple’s small research team and sometimes even Shirley herself to help track active agents and even build or repair weapons.

Champagne agreed the load was getting to be too much, but the focus on recruitment had been new agents for Kingsman and so here she was on her seventh workday and she could feel it.  Shirley keep talking about taking some time off, just the two of them.  Shirley hadn’t really left HQ in the last four years, so it was a big deal for her to making some noise about going on vacation.  Maybe she’s not wrong, thought Ginger.

Nothing on her plate was changing and Chai, her second-in-command, could handle the workload with no problem.  And Champ would gladly let them have their time off; he claimed to never play favorites, but if you just so happened to ask him, he might just so happen to tell you that Ginger and Shirley were right up there in staff he trusted implicitly.  He recruited both women and along with two agents, Whiskey and Tequila, they had made a formidable team for nearly a decade.

But, the support program with Kingsman meant they needed everyone available and until they were at a reasonable capacity, Statesman needed Ginger to stay put.  It was only fair given that Merlin, her Kingsman counterpart, was working just as much as her with virtually no staff at all.  No, no vacation for you, Miss Ginger, she chastised herself.  She had responsibilities to Statesman and to Merlin.

As she sat there lost in thought, Shirley walked up behind her and placed her hands on Ginger’s shoulders.  She could feel the stress like a rock under her fingertips and she frowned at the sensation. Her best friend was working entirely too hard.  She rubbed a little, trying to make it better.

“Ging, why are you still here? You need to take some time away from this computer, your neck and shoulders feel like a solid block of concrete.  Let’s do a girl’s night tonight, you need it.” Ginger tensed up again, but this time with guilt.

“That sounds amazing, Shirl.  But I got to finish these blueprints and get them off to Merlin so he can build the prototype.  I promised him I get them to him in the next few hours.”  Shirley rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath when Ginger stopped speaking.

“Like hell you can’t.”  She leaned over and punched a few buttons on the computer screen and before Ginger could react, Merlin’s face appeared in the video call.  She noted he looked just as worn and tired as she felt and wondered if she looked that way to him.  Without so much as a hello, Shirley started to talk.

“Merlin, will you please tell Ginger that she can have a girls’ night tonight and that the blueprints for whatever do-hickey you’re working on can wait a day or so?  Besides, you look absolutely terrible and I’m going to say that you need to go home and get some sleep, too.”

“Ever the charmer, Shirley.” Merlin’s laugh was weak, and he hung his head. “You’re right, we’re pushing ourselves too hard, it’s not the end of the world anymore.  We both need to relax for a night, m’eudail.  Go have fun with Shirley and I’ll go home and sleep.”

Shirley and Merlin continued to chat a few more minutes, but Ginger didn’t hear anything.  Instead, she blushed and lowered her eyes.  M’eudail he called her, my dear.  He has never called her that in front of someone before and she hoped that Shirley didn’t catch on.  Not that she was embarrassed for Shirley to know about her and Merlin, but Ginger just wanted something that was hers and hers alone.  

---***---

The touch of his hand on her lower back sent sparks across her skin and she drew in a small breath.  She wasn’t sure why she was reacting to him this way.  They were colleagues, two sides of the same coin.  But his eyes were kind and he had a big heart.  And then there was his smile and that brogue and . . .

“Ginger, this way.”  He nodded at her, his hazel eyes sparkling at her from behind his glasses.  She nodded and walked down the hallway to the door, his hand never leaving her back.  And for each step that his hand remained, another spark was added until it felt like her spine was shivering.  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.  He didn’t seem effected at all.

But exterior appearances, especially from a trained agent, are deceiving and internally Merlin was clawing at some sort of stoicism to hide the desire he had for his American counterpart.  When they first chatted face to face some months ago in Louisville, he found himself staring at her mouth, wondering if it was as a soft as it looked and what it looked like when she sighed in pleasure.  He forced himself to pay attention to her words, but it was hard and so was he.

And now?  Here she was in his domain, walking the halls he always walked, about to sit in the chairs he sat in.  How could he keep up this facade when all he wanted to do was push her against the wall they just passed and let his hands feel her skin beneath his fingertips.  Hamish, you idiot, stop this thinking, he told himself.

Now if only he would listen.

---***---

Shirley ended the call with a cheery good-bye and spun Ginger around her chair.  They looked at each other and Ginger realized that for once it wasn’t her giving the Stare of Care, as they called it.  It was a hard look that came from a source of love.  Instead, it was her friend, who loved her as a sister, throwing the Stare at her.  A curt nod followed, and Shirley turned her head towards the only other specialist in the lab at the moment.

“Kefir, Ginger is leaving for the rest of the day and if she sneaks back in here, I want you to call me so I can come get her.”  He smiled and nodded at the two women.  “And you let Chai know when she comes on duty in an hour.  This woman is gonna get some damn sleep for once.”

The latter part of her comment came out as a mutter and at that Ginger began to laugh.  There was a point in time when it had been Ginger in that motherly place, working to support her friend through a tough time.  I guess the tables are turned now, she thought.  But she would be lying to herself if she wasn’t touched that she had people like Shirley that loved and cared for her so much.

But Shirley was right, and Ginger wasn’t going to feel guilty about relaxing a bit, even if it was only a Tuesday.  Even Merlin told her to go home.  She bounced up from her desk and moved to shut her station down for the night. It’ll all be here tomorrow when she came in – there isn’t an imposing deadline and Kingsman wasn’t going to be rebuilt overnight.

Shirley looped her arm through Ginger’s and they ambled down the hallway to the bank of elevators.  Both women live in on-site apartments, which made the commute to work all the easier. As they entered the elevator, Shirley spoke up.

“My place?”

“Whiskey’s not home?”

“Naw, he’s out somewhere in New Mexico on an assignment with Brandy.”

“How’s that going?  It’s been a while since Brandy was in the field.  I’m surprised Champ sent her along on the case.”

“She needed the break, if she spent another month training the new recruits, I’m sure she would have snapped.  You know she installed a punching bag in her office, right?”

“No!  Is it that bad?”

“Probably not, but you know Brandy, she’s overly dramatic when she’s stressed.”

The two women continued gossiping about their co-workers and friends before the elevator dropped them off on the eighth floor.  Shirley took her keys out and unlocked her apartment door, pulling Ginger in behind her, as if she didn’t trust the woman to just run back to the office. But Ginger had no plans to leave.

The homey feeling of Jack and Shirley’s apartment immediately enveloped Ginger and it seemed she dropped thirty pounds of stress just walking through the door.  Shirl pushed Ginger towards the soft leather couch while she went and dug around for some drinks and food, knowing full well that Ginger probably hadn’t eaten in hours.

In no time, Shirley had whipped up a meal worthy of girl’s night while Ginger cued up their favorite films to watch.  She hemmed and hawed between Practical Magic and The American President for a bit before choosing the former.  She felt in this moment she needed a little magical fluff in her life and, with Merlin in her thoughts, a little magical love, too.

When Shirley came into the living room, everything was ready, and the two friends snuggled deep under the blankets and just vegged out.  Through out the night, they oscillated between chatter and quiet before they both fell asleep to the sounds of Robin Tunney kicking Fairuza Balk’s ass.

In the wee hours of the morning, Jack came home and after hanging up his hat, he saw the two women lightly snoring on the couch.  He smiled at the picture before walking over.  He dropped a kiss on each head before heading to the bedroom to change and slip into bed himself.   Just another night in the Daniels homestead.

[huilianwrites]

Seven Things I Learned in the First Seven Weeks of Uni

I wanted to post this after six weeks of university, because it marks exactly one half of my first semester here, but things happen, and so enjoy seven things I learn in my first seven weeks of uni. Because apparently university is full of deadlines and stress. But isn’t that all life, anyway. 

1. Getting to know new people is exhausting, but it’s worth it

Meeting new people can be exhausting. Going to uni with no friends going to the same uni? Doubly exhausting. Practically every single person I met in the last seven weeks are new people to me. It’s exhausting trying to juggle all the names and faces and where I met all of them. It’s exhausting having to spend mental energy to introduce myself to someone, and waiting for the dreaded judgement that would definitely come. It’s not just exhausting, but also frustrating, to be left out of certain groups. But as time went on (seven weeks of it), I realized that those people who left me out from their group, I didn’t really want to hang out with anyway. The people that I want to hang out with, that I want to actually spend my time with, is there with me, and making that new connection to people has been more than worth it. Most of the people here are also like me, going from knowing no one to hopefully knowing enough people to form a friend group practically by the end of the week. It’s just a matter of finding the right people whom you can connect with. Besides, now I get more than enough materials for stories for my friends and family back home, so it’s going to be very entertaining to tell these stories.

2. Bureaucracy can be frustrating

I’m pretty sure that everyone knows this, but really, bureaucracy is extremely frustrating. I kept getting shuffled from one office to another whenever I want to ask for something, or get something done. Getting my midterms rescheduled because I have a class conflict is a pain to handle, and I hope I do not have to do that again, but I definitely will have to do it again. I went from emailing my professor, to reading the syllabus (It’s in the syllabus. Not really!!), to going to the course administrator who is, it turns out, different than the course coordinator! It’s just a pain to go through that bureaucracy, and wasting time going from one office to another, only to get reshuffled to another office. I get why they would do that, because they need people concentrating on just one thing, but by god this is frustrating. And don’t think this is just the school bureaucracy. The student government bureaucracy can be hell to manage too, until I can’t even understand which student body represented whom. Practice for the ‘real world’ I guess, because apparently now my government forgot who they’re supposed to be representing! (Ignore this, this is just a part of my rant on my government. Moving on.) 

3. Crying is okay. 

Whoever suddenly decided that crying is not okay need to try it, because crying pretty much every week helped me go through this six weeks at uni. My biology teacher at high school once told my class that crying regularly helped clean out the basal tears in your eyes, and it needed cleaning, otherwise it’ll just stay there and do nothing. Besides, crying really helped get out my emotions, which is ranging from exhaustion of meeting new people, exhaustion of things to do, fear that this whole uni thing is not going to go well, and longing for home. It just released it all, and so by the end of my crying session, I could put all those emotions aside and actually do some work, instead of trying to hold all that emotions and end up doing no work at all. I now have a playlist of songs I could almost always cry to, and a bunch of stories that I could read and then cry, because sometimes just letting myself feel all that emotions wasn’t enough to cry (it has been repressed for too long). So yeah, cry your heart out. Cry alone in your room before bed, like I almost always do, or find someone you can cry to while they listen. It’s up to you whether you want to cry alone or in front of people you trust enough to cry in front of, but you need to cry sometimes instead of just bottling it in. 

4. Grasp opportunities

There is a LOT of opportunities around campus, that sometimes I have no idea whether or not I’ll have enough time to do all of them. And sometimes to do them you need to audition or register, and maybe you won’t be able to get it. Sometimes it’ll be open to all. Sometimes there are two opportunities at the same time and you just have to choose between them. Sometimes you have class at the time that event happen. It doesn’t matter. There will be more events eventually. There is always something happening in my campus that if I want to, I can walk around campus, find one, and just join in. There are the residences events, there are the student unions’ events, there are the programs’ events, there are clubs’ events, and there are events that are just there for the heck of it. Try to go to as much as you can, because you won’t regret it. Most of the best experiences I have in this six weeks (it’s only been six weeks, who am I to tell? But seriously) are from joining events that I have no idea what it is and are only there for the free food (there is a lot of free food on my campus. You just have to know where to find it). Go to events you never thought you’ll be interested it. If you don’t like it, at least you’ve tried it. If you do like it, hey, even better! Try classes (drop in classes are the best because they require virtually no comitment at all!). Try going to meetings you don’t feel like going to, because maybe you’ll find it interesting enough to go to regularly. Just try things. Uni is for trying things, right? 

5. Make your voice heard

I joined my first major strike in uni, and that is the climate strike happening across the world right now. I’ve always been an outspoken girl, but in university, with a class of over four, five hundred people, you can easily get lost. Make your voice heard, whether in class, or in issues you care about. (Climate change is a good one, if you’re looking for an issue to fight for). Ask for things. The worst thing they can do is say no. Advocate for yourself, because no one else is going to do it for you. Claim your needs and wants, and shout them to people (maybe not literally). Be, not just exist, because existing requires no input from you, and do you really want to spend the rest of your life like that? Make your voice heard in the middle of hundreds of other voices, and stand for them.

6. You will miss the ‘good old days’

When I was doing high school, I can’t wait for it to end. I count the days until I graduate. Now I actually miss it. Not the work nor the stress, but I miss the people and the familiarity of my school. I’ve spent six years in it, and it has become a safe space for me, even through all the stress. I know what awaits for me in high school, and I know how to handle that. University is all new. I go to university abroad, so literally everything is new. New friends, as mentioned above, new language to learn in, new surroundings, and even new weather that I had to get used to pretty quick. I knew all of this going in, and I deliberately chose this university because I want to go out of my comfort zone. I like doing that, but at the same time, I do miss the good old days when I know perfectly clear what is going on on a daily basis. Knowing that, I would probably miss these days too when I’m done with my undergrad, and so I will try to savour this experience as much as I can. 

7. Take the time to rest

You need the time to rest. I try to get a solid 7 hours of sleep each night, and honestly, I still feel sleep deprived. I think it’s because at high school, I spent a lot of time commuting and I could easily take a nap in the car, and now I either walk or take the train everywhere, so no napping for me anymore. But more than just sleep, you need to rest. Take the time to do things really unrelated to your program. Go out with your friends. I’ll admit I’m quite bad at this, because, once again, every friend I have here is new and I don’t want the mental effort to do that, but you have to let loose once in a while. You’ll come back refreshed, and if you’re refreshed, you’ll be able to do things much more efficiently than if you’re just trying to power through it anyway. Go get some rest! 

[paleorecipecookbook]

Why You Need to Move Every Day to Get the Benefits of Exercise

Did I just describe you? If so, I applaud you for making time on your days off for physical activity. Unfortunately, such sporadic bursts aren’t enough to counteract the harmful effects prolonged sitting has on the mind and body. To get the benefits of exercise, you need to move much more often—every single day—by sitting much less. In other words, you have to swap your sedentary lifestyle for an active one.

Don’t panic: That doesn’t mean you have to find an extra hour in your busy day to get to the gym or a fitness class. By doing simple things like taking standing and walking breaks during work, plus occasionally engaging in brief but higher-intensity exercise, you’ll be moving like our active hunter–gatherer ancestors did and be well on your way to enjoying better health.

Think about your typical work day. Do you sit at a desk for eight hours, commute home in a car, and sit in front of the TV until bed? If so, you’re not getting the full benefits of exercise—even if your weekends are full of workouts. Find out why. #healthylifestyle #chriskresser

Six Reasons Why Sitting Is So Bad for Your Health

A sedentary lifestyle, comprising prolonged sitting and minimal physical activity, has a negative effect on nearly every aspect of human health. As a result, it increases your risk of developing serious chronic diseases and even early death. Although we’re not 100 percent sure why sitting raises these risks, thanks to the emergent field of sedentary physiology, we have some pretty good ideas. (1) For example, we know that sitting is associated with decreased calorie expenditure and poorer metabolic functioning, including reduced insulin sensitivity. (2) As I’ve discussed before, sitting too much can lead to weight gain over time—even if you’re exercising when you step away from your desk.

Avoiding the additional pounds isn’t the only reason to start moving. Here are six more evidence-backed reasons why you need to stop spending so much of your day sitting.

Reason #1: It’s Hazardous to Your Heart

Studies have linked being sedentary with cardiovascular disease (CVD), including coronary heart disease, stroke, heart attack, and CVD-related death. (3, 4) It appears that sitting decreases activity of the enzyme lipoprotein lipase (LPL), which leads to higher levels of triglycerides (a type of fat that moves through your bloodstream and is sometimes an indicator for CVD) and lower levels of HDL (“good” cholesterol). (5) Sitting too much has also been found to increase blood pressure and decrease the diameter of arteries, making heart disease more likely.

Reason #2: It Impairs Insulin Sensitivity, Putting You in the Diabetes Danger Zone

Sitting has been linked to insulin resistance, a risk factor for diabetes. In one investigation, on the day participants sat for five consecutive hours after consuming a high-calorie drink, their plasma insulin and glucose levels were more than 20 percent higher than on days when they interrupted sitting with short breaks. Other research suggests that sitting for just two hours after a meal could increase your blood sugar levels. Over time, that sets the stage for insulin resistance and diabetes. (6, 7)

Reason #3: You Set the Stage for Osteoporosis in Your Lifetime

Researchers now associate sitting with lower bone mineral density and osteoporosis in both men and women. (8, 9) The lower your bone mineral density—think calcium and phosphorus—the weaker your bones. Some of the latest studies have looked at adolescents and the amount of time they spend at a computer, watching television, or playing video games, finding a negative association between sitting and bone mineral content and density, particularly in teenage boys. (10, 11, 12)

Reason #4: You Boost Your Chance of Cancer ...

… by up to 66 percent, according to one study. (13) Researchers found sedentary behavior to be associated with a:

24 percent higher risk of developing colon cancer

32 percent greater chance of endometrial cancer

21 percent increased risk of lung cancer

Watching TV, in particular, was associated with a 54 percent higher likelihood of colon cancer and 66 percent greater chance of endometrial cancer. These links remained strong even in people who worked out regularly. A large study also linked sitting to a higher risk of breast cancer, ovarian cancer, and multiple myeloma. (14)

Reason #5: You Lose Your Mind—Literally

One recent study from UCLA reported that participants who sat for long stretches of time had thinning in regions of the brain involved in memory formation. This decreased thickness can serve as a precursor to cognitive decline and dementia. (15)

Reason #6: Ultimately, It Can Kill You

Multiple studies from around the globe have found an association between increased sedentary time and the risk of early death. In the summer of 2018, results of a survey of more than 125,000 adults were released that found that those who sat for six or more hours a day were 19 percent more likely to die over the next two decades than those who spent less time sitting once their workday was over. And the higher risk of death remained even in people who exercised. (16)

Think Exercise Is the Only Answer? Think Again

Notice something about many of the studies shared above? Several found the same negative health outcomes in people who were completely sedentary and “weekend warriors,” those who worked out but still spent the majority of each day seated. And there are many other studies that confirm those conclusions.

It’s clear: Exercise alone—including bursts of moderate to vigorous activity—can’t undo the damage caused by sitting.

Some research even suggests that people who exercise intensely, like marathon runners, are more likely to be sedentary when they’re not exercising, falsely assuming their training offers them the full benefits of exercise and protects them from the harmful effects of sitting. (17) What’s more, in some cases marathons, triathlons, and long-distance bicycle rides can result in overtraining, and studies have linked these activities with heart, muscle, and joint damage. (18, 19)

In industrialized societies, this “active couch potato” phenomenon has unfortunately become the norm rather than the exception. If you work in an office, commute by car, and watch a few hours of TV each night, it’s not hard to see how you could spend the vast majority of your waking life (up to 15 hours a day) sitting on your butt. This is far outside of the evolutionary norm for humans, and it has serious consequences for our health.

How to Get the Benefits of Exercise: Stop Being Sedentary and Move Like Your Ancestors

What is the evolutionary norm? Our hunter–gatherer ancestors didn’t work out; they just lived. They naturally spent a lot of time outdoors in the sun—walking, hunting, and gathering. They had to exert themselves, and often quite strenuously, to survive. Our ancestors sprinted, jogged, climbed, carried, and jumped intermittently throughout the day, on top of walking and running. They also alternated strenuous and demanding days with days of rest, an instinctual response that protected them from injury and fatigue.

You can mimic their approach today by becoming what I call an “organic mover,” a person who engages in lots of low-intensity physical activity along with distinct periods of higher-intensity exercise. SWAP your way to ancestral health: stand, walk, and push.

Stand

One of the easiest ways to undo the harmful effects of sitting is simply to stand up! Standing engages muscles that boost LPL activity and boosts your metabolism. (20) In general, I recommend standing or walking for at least 50 percent of your day.

Try this:

Use a standing desk. There are several types of standing desks on the market, ranging from stationary to adjustable models, or you can make one yourself. (A few low-tech ideas: Try putting your laptop on a sturdy box or crate, an old speaker stand, or even some stacked books.) Many employers permit them and even provide them for their employees.

Take standing breaks. If you’re unable to work at a standing desk, be sure to stand up for at least two minutes every 30 to 45 minutes, and either stretch or take a quick walk (do this when you’re sitting at home, too). Even short breaks like this can make a huge difference. Set a timer on your phone or look for an app that will remind you to move on a regular basis. Also try standing for part or all of your meetings.

Walk

Again, let’s keep it simple: Walk more and sit less. (Other light exercise such as gardening and household cleaning is also beneficial.) Research has shown that even low to moderate physical activity like walking lowers post-meal blood sugar, insulin, and triglyceride levels. (21)

Try this:

Walk while you work with a treadmill desk. I use a treadmill desk myself and average between 15,000 and 18,000 steps a day. As with standing desks, there are several options for configuration. You can buy a treadmill for an existing standing desk or buy a desk that fits above your existing treadmill.

Hold walking meetings. Who says meetings have to sit around a boardroom table?

Walk or bicycle to work. If you live too far away to walk or ride exclusively, consider driving part of the way and commuting on foot or bike for the remainder.

Use the stairs whenever possible, and rack up steps.

Find a hobby that moves you. Ballroom dancing, bowling, gardening, and cooking are fun choices that get you walking around. Pick something that’s fun and that fits your lifestyle—that’s the key to sticking with it.

Push

In addition to standing and walking more, you need to occasionally push yourself as our ancestors did with bouts of more intense exercise; just don’t overdo it. I recommend following the guidelines established by my friend and colleague Dan Pardi.

Try this:

Aim for 150 minutes of moderate-intensity exercise per week (jogging, yoga, or dancing), which requires 50 to 70 percent of your maximum effort to perform; OR

Get 75 minutes of vigorous-intensity activity a week (running, Zumba, or sports), which takes 70 to 90 percent of your maximum effort; OR

Complete 30 sets (roughly 30 minutes) of highest-intensity exercise per week (sprinting, jumping rope, or resistance training), which needs greater than 90 percent of your maximum effort; OR

Do some combination of the above.

A note about your maximum effort: I use percentages here because your “maximum effort” will differ from someone else’s based on a number of factors. Someone who’s living a sedentary lifestyle, for example, might consider a light jog to be a vigorous-intensity workout, while a runner might call it moderate. The key is to pay attention to your body and push yourself.

The third bullet refers to a type of exercise often called high-intensity interval training (HIIT), which involves performing movements at very high intensity for very short periods of time, usually between 30 seconds and two minutes. If you’ve been taught that “chronic cardio” (as Mark Sisson calls it) is the way to go, this approach may seem too good to be true, yet studies have found HIIT superior on nearly every level. It’s a great option to help you move like your ancestors.

I hope you now see that truly active living is key to optimal well-being, and that as long as you sit for the bulk of your day, you run the health risks of a sedentary life. If you want to get the full benefits of exercise, it’s time to SWAP things up.

Now, I’d like to hear from you. What’s your exercise routine? How long do you sit in a typical day? Let me know below in the comments!

The post Why You Need to Move Every Day to Get the Benefits of Exercise appeared first on Chris Kresser.

Source: http://chriskresser.com November 17, 2018 at 06:01PM

[thewritingpanda]

A Different Perspective

"in everything you do, always be kind"

It was the 14th of the holy month, Ramadan came in hot days that year. I had a package to deliver across the city from my dad to my uncle, perks of having a son I guess. A cup of coffee sat on the table in front of the TV, I was putting my shoes on and listening to the news. It was a terrible time to be alive, terrorists were spreading like a plague, people were not thinking straight, if they are different then they are not worthy, that is what they said. It didn't matter what religion you followed as long as you didn't follow and heed their radical ideology. I turned off the TV and took the last sip of my coffee, it was cold and bitter, a lovely start to a long commute I thought. I always choose public transportation over the car when it is a long distance, I don't like traffic, the sound of the car horns and people fighting to break fast is nerve wrecking, so I choose to put my headphones in my ears and forget everything around me, hoping I would reach my destination fast before I suffocate in the zombie like crowd. It is a 2 kilometers walk to the bus that would take me to the subway station, from there it would be a 45 mins ride to my destination. The sun was blistering, I looked at the distance and I could see heat waves dancing from the asphalt, it was only but 5 minutes until I started feeling sweaty. Halfway to the bus, I realized that I had forgotten my headphones, however, there was no way I would go back for them so I kept moving. There isn't really much to do when you walk in an empty street so I had my gaze down, following the road, and to my surprise I found 100 pounds lying there on the ground. I looked around me, thought of calling out if someone lost this, but decided that it would be to no avail so I put it in my front pocket away from my wallet; it wasn't mine after all. The bus ride to the station was sticky to say the least, the concept of personal space flies out the window when everyone is in a hurry, no one waits for the next bus, they just pile up over each other like a basket of apples, sweaty angry apples that is. Despite being very crowded, the bus was completely silent, no one was talking, there was an old man fiddling a sebha with his fingers and murmuring prayers. His hands were wrinkled, but not out of age only, I could tell that he was a craftsman of some sorts. My observations were soon interrupted by the bus coming to a sudden stop, we were there already. I wasn't in a hurry to get out and squeeze myself through the crowd like the rest of the people, neither was the old man it seemed. I headed for the stairs when I heard a voice "come on dad, let's get you home", I hadn't noticed the woman who said this before, maybe because she was sitting. "yes dear, by all means let's go". The woman was carrying a large bag over her head, it was mesmerizing how she moved naturally with such grace. She took the old man's right hand and brought him down the stairs, I thought it was touching how she kissed his forehead afterwards. It wasn't just a regular kiss, it was a kiss that showed her gratitude and appreciation to all the things he had done for her, and now it was her time to take care of him; it was a kiss of pure kindness and selflessnness. I looked at them as they walked away not noticing that it had been 5 mins already since I left the bus and started watching them.

The metro station was a mess to say the least, I couldn't take a breath without someone else sharing the air with me. After a long 10 mins I managed to get my ticket, deep down I knew this was not gonna be fun. On the platform, people had no respect for rules, once the door opened it was war. Those coming out of the train would try to shove those going in on the sides so they could get out, and those going in would do the opposite to get in. Me, I stood there watching, knowing that there is a split second at the end that would be my opportunity to get in, sure enough it came and I was in. A few stations later, the train was now semi empty. I rested my head on the pole behind me taking a deep breath as a sigh of relief. "hey mister, do you know what time it is?" I let the breath out, it was the sound of a little boy. I looked at him with a smile and extended my arm for him to see the clock clearly "how about you tell me", the kid paused as he looked at my cheap watch, he kept shifting his eyes between me and the watch. "you can't tell what time it is?" the kid looked down on the ground, I made him feel bad unintentionally. "I still have 6 stations to go, I can teach you if you want" "really?" the kid looked at me, his face lit up, I nooded. The next five to ten minutes I taught the kid everything there is to learn how to read a clock, I have never seen such an enthusiastic kid eager to learn something this simple, I remembered mogli and was thinking of telling the kid, but I shook the idea off, I didn't want to talk about something else he may not know. "and that is how you tell what time it is" I said with a smile "that is so cool, can you please ask me what time it is in a bit mister" I nodded. The train stopped at the station I have been waiting for "well, that's my stop kiddo" I patted the kid on the shoulder gently "me too!", what are the odds.

It had been a long while since I last came to shoubra, the place hasn't really changed that much, the same old buildings, the crowded streets, well they were more crowded now but it looked the same to me. "so which way are you going mister?" I really didn't know so I decided to ask the kid, he looked like he knew his way around here "I have no idea, I am looking for the big square" I looked around looking lost, I really wanted the kid to feel good about helping "oh I know where that is, this way!". I started following the kid as he started small conversation "you know mister, I really love shoubra, it is full of good people" I agreed, I spent alot of my childhood here so I know a thing or two about shoubra. The kid continued "the only problem is that they are mostly Christians" well that was unexpected. I didn't reply and I waited for him to continue "father told me they are bad" I had to ask "why is that?" the kid looked at me with all the innocence in the world "because they are different". Look at what the world has come to, we teach our kids that different means bad. I could 't bear to think what this kid would grow up into, would he bully others? Would he live his life hating those who are "different"? "we are here mister!". He did know his way around, it was a large square with towering buildings that stood tall like a concrete jungle. Each building had tons of air Conditioners and office signs; finding the right building was like finding a needle in a haystack." so, which one is it mister?" I looked down at the kid with a smile then up at the buildings again "I honestly have no idea kiddo". "well I can't read, call someone if you can". I pulled my phone out and called my uncle, he told me to look for a big red sign. "we are looking for a big red sign on the fifth floor kiddo" the kid looked around then pointed behind me "right there mister!". I was impressed by the kids wit and how fast he scanned the area "thank you kiddo, well I guess I have to go". "yeah me too, I need to pray to break my fast, I am probably going to eat koshary, it is all I can afford". That last sentence made me frown, he has a pure soul yet he is being raised in harsh conditions. The kid waved at me goodbye and started to walk away, I was looking for a way to make him happy so I called out "hey kiddo! You forgot to tell me what time it is". The kid turned back and ran towards me, he looked at my hand watch "according to this it is 6:15". "clever boy" I put my phone in my pocket to shake his hand properly, then I felt a piece of paper.... The 100 pounds! There was no better timing than this!. I got down on my knees so I can see the kid eye to eye, put one hand on his shoulder. "listen kiddo, I know that life can be harsh sometimes. I know you have hopes and dreams that you want to achieve. You want to read, you want to live healthy and happy. I know" the kid's eyes started tearing, he wiped them off "I want to be a pilot so I can fly and see the world" I frowned sadly "I can tell you'd make a great pilot with your fast paced wits. I want you to know that you are different, and that doesn't mean you are bad. It just means you are unique, the same goes to everyone." I pulled the 100 pounds out of my pocket "here I want you to have this" the kid looked at me with gleamy eyes "really?" I nodded "go home and buy something to eat for your family and don't you ever give up on your dreams" the kid hugged me crying "thank you mister" I looked at him "Andrew, my name is Andrew" the kid looked at me "that is a different name, a unique one" he laughed. "remember this kid, whatever God you believe in, we all come from the same one". I looked at my watch, breaking fast was 20 mins away "oh hey, look at the time, you better get going" the kid looked at me with a smile and said "thank you". I stood up as I watched the kid run, he would 't get lost, he' s a clever kid.

One hour later, I came down the stairs of the building. My mission was complete, it was time to head home. The streets looked nothing like they were on my way there. They were now empty, no cars, just kids playing everywhere. The metro station had no one but me. I bought my ticket with no hassle at all and waited on the empty platform. Soon enough the metro arrived and I was glad to be on my way home. It had been ages since I last sat in the metro train, there was only 3 people around; an old man, his son, and his wife. I sat down tired, exhausted from the heat, and I had forgotten to buy water. I heard a familiar crackle of plastic, it was the sound of a water bottle. "I know you want to drink son, but remember what we said about kindness?" I opened my eye and so the little boy walk up to me "do you want some water sir?" I looked at the boy smiling, I was not ready to drink a fasting boy's water "no thank you, I'll be fine, you go on and drink" the boy stood there looking at his father. "come on, don't be shy have a sip you look exhausted" the man said to me. "I didn't fast sir, I am Christian I am sure your son is thirsty" the old man gave out a tumbling laugh "so Christians don't get thirsty? You are human, you are thirsty, just have a drink" I admit, I didn't expect such kindness from a stranger, kiddo must have thought the same about me. I took the bottle from the son and took a sip of water, I felt refreshed as if this sip brought me back to life. I gave the bottle back to the little boy, he ran towards his parents. "how did it feel son? Are you happy you helped this man?" the boy nodded with a smile "now you can drink, and remember always be kind to everyone". The next station the family left after saying goodbye. I sat there in an empty Train thinking how my act of kindness was repaid. Perhaps everything happens for a reason, the old man's lesson to his son was a lesson for me too. As the metro came to a stop, I told myself to remember that regardless of our differences and beliefs, our way of life, and our hopes and dreams, we are all human who come from the same place. My final thought leaving the train was that in everything I do, I will always be kind.