#so it's a little unfair to them EXCEPT my former assistant there (who's still there) asked me in like his second week working there

[random2908]

So the funniest thing happened today. We interviewed a woman for an entry-level scientist position, and I was one of the interviewers who was assigned to get half an hour with her.

Aside from the fact that she had a PhD in, generally speaking, the correct subfield, she was entirely unqualified for the job. But, having that PhD counts for a lot, and we all thought she seemed like a really tenacious person who could learn the ropes of what we were doing.

You know what she was extremely qualified for, though? An entry-level scientist position at my previous company. Like, they would kill to get someone with her exact background--someone who'd done a PhD under her PhD advisor and a postdoc under her postdoc advisor (completely unrelated work, both relevant to my previous company's work in entirely different ways).

But she wasn't applying there, she told me, because she'd looked at their linkdin page and they didn't have any women on the tech staff.

[spencerspecifics]

Okay yes hi hello this is me gracing y’all with my writing Bc I’ve had this idea forever!! This is going to be multiple chapters, here is chapter two. Enjoy :)

~

Technical Analyst (ch.1)

~

Short description: Spencer works as a technical analyst alongside Garcia and Kevin, though he hasn’t ever really worked directly with the BAU team, he works more in filing and researching. But when Garcia goes on vacation leave, and Kevin is busy with his own work, Spencer steps up to help- and that’s when he meets Derek Morgan.

———————————————————————

Spencer hated technology. He hated computers, tablets, cell phones, he hated it all. He hated everything and anything that isn’t on printed onto paper. So how the fuck did he end up as a technical analyst- whose entire job was based around proficient use of technology? In very short, budget cuts.

He originally worked in domestic terrorism, though he never fit in well there. He was a good worker, fast and able to do a lot. But his coworkers never let him feel included. He would hear them make plans without him, ignore him in conversations, only reaching out to him for his great memory to help solve a case. It was dehumanizing. He was just a brain for them, nothing more.

Then, the budget cuts came. And he got removed from the team, as he had the least amount of hours in the field- which wasn’t his fault. The rest of his team always forced him into the research position, so while they were off chasing the bad guys, he was stuck researching with a computer he doesn’t trust.

So yeah, he wasn’t an asset to them. But the bureau knew a mind like his in general was an asset, a fountain they’d like to keep a tap on. So they made work for him. It was mostly menial. He would assist with intense cases when necessary, but even then it was just research. No one knew what he would be like in the field, because they never gave him the chance.

Spencer tried not to think about how unfair this was, how stupid and purely tedious it was. He would rather be working as a T.A. at this point- which wouldn’t even be that bad. At least he gets heard and seen then.

~

Spencer’s normal day consists of going from his apartment to the bureau building, to directly into his cramped little office that was about the size of a jumbo walk in closet. A nice size to store clothes, but not so nice when you have to have a person, a desk, a chair, three computer monitors, two filing cabinents, a trash can, a fax machine, and a printer all crammed in there.

Yeah, his workplace was entirely too small. Thankfully it didn’t impact his ability to work, though, most the time Spencer finished his work quickly; and would end up reading. Spencer didn’t venture out from his office that much at all, (he always brought his own coffee so he didn’t have to worry about bugging the field agents.) the exception to leaving his office was to go across the hall to Penelope Garcia, his only sort of friend that he had at work. She was always so bubbly, it was a breath of relief for him to go see her- she reminded him of all the positive things, he definitely couldn’t do the job without her.

Not to mention, she had to train him from starting point zero. Spencer hated technology, after all. So he never made an effort to learn coding, hacking, how to re-route and track things. He knew nothing like that, hell, he struggles with his cellphone turning on sometimes.

Thankfully, she was able to get some sense into him, and he was pretty good at what he could do. Though he was still working out python coding, he was enjoying the learning process of using technology.

That being said- he still despises technology, and he hopes that once he leaves the job, he can throw away his very unnecessary but work mandated laptop.

~

Spencer made his way into the bureau building, messenger bag slung over his shoulder awkwardly as a thermos of coffee was held tightly in his right hand, while the left one reached for the door handle to enter. He got in no problem, security didn’t stop him anymore, thankfully. Though in the beginning, they did check him constantly, verifying that he belonged there. After all, he looked young, and he definitely didn’t belong in the bureau building. But then again, Garcia didn’t look like she belonged there either.

Security just made presumptions about people, he shrugged that thought off as he made his way to the elevator. Thankfully no one else was in there, he pressed the button for floor six, and the elevator doors shut.

The elevator whirred to life, taking him up to the sixth floor slowly. Thankfully today was a slow day, there wasn’t really any important case he had to work on. (Not like he ever really got given cases to work on, anyways.) So Spencer was hoping he would be able to finish his work quickly, as he had some books he brought with him that he wanted to read and re-read before the day was finished.

The elevator dinged, a signal it had reached its necessary location, before the doors finally slid back. He stepped out, taking his usual left down the hallway immediately. Forward through the glass doors was the bullpen with the agents who worked in the BAU. And god, what he wouldn’t give to be a field agent, working as a profiler. That’s why he wanted to join the bureau, and yet he was so close- his office only down the hall. But he was simultaneously so far, not being trusted by all the bureaucratic bosses, who didn’t know if he would be a good agent to warrant being put out into the field.

He hated it, but he tried not to think about it as he reached his office, Garcia’s door was shut, she was on vacation, or so he had heard. Spencer pulled on his office door, entering with ease as he moved into the cramped workspace.

Spencer sat his messenger bag down onto his desk, sitting himself down in his office chair and taking a minute to breathe in and out before continuing. Spencer hated this job. It was mind numbingly boring, he was so close to quitting. He knew the bureau would fight tooth and nail to keep him, however, but if that was the case, why not give him a better job- he didn’t want a nicer office, he wanted to help people.

He sighed, today was just one of those days where he was extra mad about not being treated right, he tried to ignore this thought process as he got ready to work; setting his coffee down by his computer mouse to his right, setting his messenger bag onto the floor next to him, pulling off the scarf that was wrapped loosely around his neck and hanging it over the back of his chair. Now he was ready for the day.

~

Penelope didn’t mean to forget to tell the team that she was going to be gone- she assumed they knew. At least Hotch did, all the rest of them knew was that she was going to take a week off to relax, they just didn’t know when (she had too many vacation days saved up, so she had to use them or lose them. She chose the former.) It was just a total brain fart moment on her part, so while she decided to hit up her favorite stores, spas, and websites; the team had no idea, they assumed she was holed up in her office, hacking away at whatever she normally does.

This would only show itself when Derek needed her, calling her office number and it going to voicemail “Hi, this is Penelope Garcia with the FBI and I’m too awesome to come to the phone right now, if it’s an urgent matter please call Aaron Hotchner-“ yeah, Derek hung up his phone by then, deciding to call her personal cell.

“Hi, hot chocolate!” She answered cheerfully, the sounds of people talking and laughing could be heard in the background, which Derek took note of. “Babygirl- your work phone sent me to voicemail, where are you?” Garcia was quiet for a second, before practically blowing Morgan’s eardrums out; “Oh- damnit! I knew I was forgetting something!” “Care to fill me in?” He asked her curiously, “Yes-“ Garcia sighed before continuing on, “Sorry. I’m taking those vacation days Hotch told me I had to use or else I’d lose.”

“So you’re not at the office.” He stated, “That I am not, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you! But my pal Spencer Reid should be covering for me.” “Spencer Reid?” Derek asked, unfamiliar with that person, “Why not kevin?” “Ugh, I don’t know- he’s doing that thing where he’s actually busy with other work for once. But Spencer is good, I taught him everything he knows- and I’m pretty sure he’s got three PhDs, so yeah, you replaced one genius with another- so don’t worry!” “Okay, well...” Derek took a second, “You sure I can ask Spencer about everything I’d ask you?” He meant work related, within being able to hack and get everything that Garcia would be able to get. Because Morgan knew that her talents were very special, and having someone else replicate them seemed near impossible, so he was a bit hesitant to trust someone new.

“Oh yeah- he’ll find everything easy peasy lemon squeezy. Don’t worry yourself, sugar.” “Okay, thank you mama. Have a good week of rest.” “I will! I have an appointment for a spa, and oh my god Derek- they do a seaweed wrap thing, isn’t that crazy?” “So you’re gonna get rolled up like sushi?” “No! Ew! Don’t compare me to raw fish!”

The phone call continued for a bit after that, as Derek wasn’t in an urgent matter. It was just a filing day at the office, before he hung up he asked where Spencer was, though; “Oh, he’s in the office next to mine, across the hall!” Garcia told him happily. Derek had thought that was a storage closet, but he didn’t tell her- instead thanking her and hanging up.

Now to pay this mystery computer whiz a visit.

~

Spencer was in the middle of re-routing a bunch of information that Garcia needed to send to her boss, Aaron Hotchner. Spencer didn’t share the same boss, since he was technically working in a more basic division of the bureau, he instead answered to Strauss- which was a royal pain in the ass, but he always turned his work in on time, came in when needed, he had never had to face her wrath yet, thankfully.

Spencer typed away, trying to get all the data to get to Hotchner as quickly as possible so he didn’t have to wait, though it wasn’t crucial the work did get completed right now. Spencer just liked to get things done.

A knock sounded Spencer out of his methodical typing, it wasn’t Garcia, obviously. And he knew Kevin was in a meeting right now with some IT people over his keyboard acting funky (Kevin could fix it by himself, but office administration forced him into talking to IT.)

“Yes?” Spencer asked curiously, turning around in his office chair, because he had no clue who it was that could be interrupting his work. The door pushed open, revealing a tall, classically handsome, muscular man carrying some files in his hands. Fuck, that would be Spencer’s luck. An attractive guy swooping in and making his IQ of one hundred and eighty seven go down to sixty in two second flat

“Hi- you Spencer?” The man asked, stepping forward into the cramped office. Spencer stood up instinctively, “Yes, I am. How can I help you?” The man handed the files over awkwardly, “I’m sorry, I usually ask Penelope Garcia for this but she’s on vacation and she referred me to you- I just need these put through VICAP, I’m not too familiar with the system as a whole, ‘cause Garcia usually handles it.”

Spencer nodded, taking the files and looking through them briefly, there were nine of them. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a lot of work to do... I’m sure I can figure it out myself-“ Derek started, doing his best to apologize. Little did he know Spencer could get this done within an hour or so.

“Oh no- not a problem at all, this should only take me about an hour, two at most, but that’s a generous estimate.” Derek raised his eyebrows, “An hour or two? Garcia usually finishes up this many files within three or four. How are you able to get this done faster than her?”

“I have an eidetic memory, which helps me recall anything that I read. I can read these files once and put all the information into VICAP knowing it’s accuracy is one hundred percent without having to double check, that cuts down my speed by half per case file.”

Derek looked confused and shocked. Yeah, Spencer could understand why. “Sorry, um. That’s a weird explanation, but it shouldn’t take me as long. I’m assuming you’re out in the bullpen?” Spencer asked him, putting the files down atop his keyboard.

“Yeah, I’m Derek Morgan with the BAU.” Derek finally introduced himself, reaching his hand out. Shit, this was Derek Morgan? Garcia has mentioned him a few times to Spencer, saying he’d love him “oh he’s so handsome, but so sweet and loving, like the hottest man on earth- I’d marry him in a heartbeat, but we don’t roll like that, Y’know?” That’s how she described him once, and of course Spencer remembered that word for word. Spencer felt like it was just his luck, that his only work colleague was best friends with a man so attractive that his mind isn’t working fully.

Not to mention he was in the BAU, Spencer guessed he was, since Garcia was their technical analyst. But still, it would be just his luck to know this insanely attractive man was part of the team he wanted to belong to so bad. Spencer wasn’t sure how to respond as he kept his composure. After all, yeah, Derek was attractive. But they probably wouldn’t speak again after this exchange. It wasn’t worth Spencer thinking about him, or how Garcia described him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t shake. But it’s nice to meet you, I’ll find you once I’m done. If you need anymore help, feel free to let me know.” Spencer told him, looking back at the files on his desk as a distraction away from this hot guy that was just standing so calmly in his office, as if Spencer ever had any visitors into the cramped space besides Garcia and Kevin.

By the time spencer looked back up, Derek’s arm was back down by his side. “Okay, thank you.”

~

Derek was surprised by their exchange, to say the least. How did he not know about this genius before? How was he not more well known, a memory thing, three PhD’s- that would be a useful asset? How come he was hidden away in a closet sized office? He had to know more. Even if it was nosy and stupid.

Normally, he’d call Garcia and ask her if it was about an employee. But in this case, he couldn’t. And he couldn’t go to Spencer, that would be weird.

So, he did the next best thing. He asked Hotch.

~

He knocked slowly on Hotchner’s door, hoping he wasn’t going to tell him to mind his business and not ask about employee facts when they definitely were irrelevant.

Derek was smart though, he figured out a foolproof way to play this. So when Hotch said, “Yes?” He came in, starting his plan into motion.

“Hotch, where’s Garcia?” He asked him, as if Derek hadn’t immediately checked up on his babygirl when he couldn’t find her. “Oh,” Hotch started, setting a file down that he had been looking over, “She took some vacation time.”

“So, who am I supposed to go to for computer help?” Derek asked, “Well,” Hotchner started, matter of factly, while he reached for a thin, unopened file on his desk. “We have a new guy helping us. Kevin’s busy with helping the child abduction unit reset their computers, as well as he’s in an IT meeting right now, so we have..” Hotch stopped, looking down to read the name off the file; “Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m sure he’ll be just as good.”

“Hotch. No ones as good as Garcia.” Derek pointed out, Hotch shrugged. “Maybe not. But this guy has a glowing personal history- and Garcia told me she taught him everything he knows.”

“What’s his personal history?” Derek asked curiously, stepping a bit closer but still trying to play nonchalance. “You know I’m not able to disclose that. You can go ask him for yourself.” Derek sighed. Of course Hotch wasn’t gonna tell him shit. He should’ve expected this. But sue him, call him hopeful. He was hoping he could’ve gotten some information on this mysterious doctor.

~

Derek made his defeated way back to his desk in the bullpen. And Emily, whose desk was directly across from his, immediately noticed his slight annoyance at Hotch. So she asked in a hushed voice as soon as he sat down;

“Did you get yelled at by Hotch?” Because in her mind, that was the most logical explanation that made the most sense. Derek just shook his head as a response, “No,” he clarified, “I was asking about our Garcia fill-in, and Hotch wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Garcia fill-in? She’s gone?” Emily asked confusedly looking back to the hallway that led to Penelope’s office, as if she’d magically appear. “Yeah, but just for the week.” Derek explained, “She’s using those vacation days she had saved up. And Kevin isn’t our standby, ‘cause he’s busy. Instead it’s some new guy.”

“Who?” Prentiss asked, this time she was curious. And as if on cue, Dr. Spencer Reid came through the glass doors, and into the bullpen, carrying Morgan’s stack of files.

“Him.” Morgan pointed back simply as a response as he waved Spencer over.

~

To say Spencer felt out of his element by being in the BAU bullpen was an understatement, he felt like a fish out of water. Like he was suffocating and everything around him was too much.

He purposely avoided the bullpen, first reason being because he didn’t have any work with the BAU. But the second reason was he knew if he stepped in, he’d be more upset that he couldn’t be on the team. And the last thing he wanted to do was make his job worse for himself.

But, this experience was an outlier. And though Spencer can remember almost anything and everything, he planned on doing his best to purposely forget all of this. Every last detail.

He wasn’t going to let himself remember how there were field agents with real life guns holstered at their sides, how they were all sitting casually, looking over cases and drinking coffee, how they had the title of SSA (he only had SA, which he still was bitter about.), and then how at a moments notice they could fly away in a jet. How astonishing their work is, how jealous he is.

But Spencer entered through the glass doors nonetheless, looking around quickly before seeing Derek wave him over. Derek was sat at his desk, talking to a woman whose head was turned away from Spencer, all he could see was that she was his desk mate, and that she had black hair.

Spencer made his way over at a brisk pace, he just needed to get in and out. If he stayed for too long, he’d let himself remember to much.

“Hey, I- I got these into VICAP no problem,“ Spencer started as he handed Derek the case files, “But I noticed some errors on the date stamping on when you found the unsub so I corrected it myself, I hope you don’t mind.”

Derek shook his head casually, “Not a problem at all, I have a habit of messing that up. Thanks doc.” Fuck, ‘doc’? Spencer hadn’t been called ‘doctor’ in months, let alone ‘doc’. This was turning into a tailspin moment for him as he smiled awkwardly, feeling a blush rising to his face, he wasn’t sure what else to do. But he wanted to get out of there.

Thankfully, the woman with black hair introduced herself, as once he had rounded the corner to see Derek, he also saw her face. She was pretty, and had bangs. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Emily Prentiss.” She reached her hand over to shake Reid’s expectantly, “Oh I-“ Reid started, hands down at his sides, he wasn’t going to move them.

“He doesn’t shake, Prentiss.” Derek explained casually, “Oh,” Emily said, dropping her hand down, “Sorry! It’s still good to meet you, though. So I hear you’re covering for Garcia?” She asked Spencer, who nodded as he pushed a piece of hair back behind his ear.

“Yeah she’s taking vacation time, and Kevin is currently busy with helping the child abduction unit. So I’ll be you technical analyst for the next week or so.”

“I’m sorry, but how long have you been with the bureau? You look really young. I don’t mean to be rude I’m just-“ “You’re really asking him the rudest possible question, though, huh?” Derek joked to her, and she just smacked him on the arm lightly before turning her attention back to Spencer.

“No you’re fine to ask I- um, I’ve been with the bureau a year and a half, but originally I was on the domestic terrorism field unit.” He explained shortly, he didn’t wanna go into how he got on the bureau to begin with, or how he left the domestic terrorism unit. All he wanted to do was have this conversation end, or else it would just be that much harder to forget.

“Domestic terrorism? So how do you end up doing technical analyst work?” Derek butted in curiously, up until now it has been Prentiss asking all the questions.

Spencer stayed quiet for a moment, before finally responding, “If you need anything else, my office is next to Garcia’s. It’s been nice meeting you, Emily.” All he gave to Derek was a curt nod before walking out at the brisk pace he had entered with.

~

“Wow, well you fucked that up.” Prentiss spoke to Derek once she saw Spencer exiting through the glass doors, and turning down the hallway.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her, “I’m just curious about him, can you blame me?” Emily just chuckled softly in return, shaking her head as she turned her chair around to face him more head on.

“Are you curious about him because he’s cute, or because he’s replacing Garcia for the week?” Derek blinked at her in surprise; “I never said he was cute.” He protested, more confused than anything else.

“You didn’t say it, but your body language did. You think he’s cute. You called him ‘doc’ and he almost blushed, and I have a feeling you’re gonna try and call him ‘doc’ again to see that same result- and you watched him the entire time, even if I was talking.”

“You think random bureau agents are cute all the time, what’s it matter?” Derek rebutted, trying to deflect and ignore, because Prentiss wasn’t making sense. Derek wasn’t attracted to Spencer, he didn’t think he was cute. Spencer’s level of attractiveness had nothing to do with his curiosity.

Derek did have a right to be curious for other reasons, anyways. This guy was replacing Garcia for a bit. It made sense Derek would wanna know more about the guy, even if he was or wasn’t attractive.

“Yeah, I find agents cute. But I don’t go asking Hotch about them.” Prentiss said with a smirk, Derek just shot her a glare. “I asked Hotch because he’s replacing Garcia. And I’ve not heard of the guy before.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Was all Emily replied with as she turned back to her work, Derek just rolled his eyes at her again before turning to his own computer.

Okay, so he knew Spencer was in domestic terrorism. It couldn’t hurt to just search it up, right? It wasn’t anything classified, he’d be able to see it, Derek hoped. He wasn’t meaning to be nosy, but he was just so curious and confused. He just had to know more.

———————————————————————

[kabira]

09 | scientific inspiration

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 3.6k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none.

note — so here it is, the big Science Dump that will form the basis for one of the major arcs of the story. now, i don’t pretend to know too much of what i’m talking about, but hopefully all the hours of scrolling through obscure genetics articles will hold up. hell, they probably won’t, but this is superhero fiction about a sixteen-year-old man-spider vigilante, so please excuse it !!! a lot of this is borrowed from the ultimate spider-man comics lore by brian michael bendis.

Vernon was still thinking about Luce’s offer when he got to work later that day.

Normally, he would have tried to keep his head clear during his work, but since all he had to do that day was log data entries, it didn’t really matter. Doc hadn’t come back to the lab yet, so it was just him and the janitor, but from the open holograph display on his table, Vernon figured he’d be back pretty soon. Despite the state of his office, the doctor didn’t like messes, especially not in his workplace.

He hadn’t expected Luce to even consider inviting the others, even though she had been friendly with them. Movie night was something that belonged to just the four—three—of them, something sacred and untouched by outsiders. The thing that had surprised him even more was his own willingness. For someone who had been so acutely ticked off by their unannounced arrival, he sure had warmed up to his new teammates quickly.

Vernon was only a few entries in when Dr. Connors entered the lab, holding a cup of steaming coffee from the cafeteria. He smiled at Vernon when he came in, not bothering to glance at the screen to check what he was doing before making his way over to the work table. One of the things Vernon liked the most about this place was that despite being nothing more than a research assistant, he was still allowed to help out in more impactful ways than simply entering and saving data.

“You’re here early,” Dr. Connors said, setting down the Styrofoam cup on his table. He looked tired, Vernon noticed, probably why he had bought that cafeteria coffee despite it being a thick, dark color and tasting like tar. There were dark circles under his blue eyes, and his usually neatly combed brown hair was slightly disheveled.

“I came here directly after school was over,” Vernon said. “Figured I’d save a lot more time that way, and I don’t really have much left to do.”

“Hm?” The scientist faced the holographic model, hitting a few keys on the pad below it. His movements were listless, but his shoulders were still tense. Reminds me of seniors before finals, Vernon thought. It wasn’t exhaustion like he had assumed, but stress. “Then perhaps you’d like to help me out here.”

“Really?” Vernon tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, but failed. Probably for the better, because it sparked a small smile on Dr. Connors’s face. “What are you working on right now?”

He didn’t get an answer for a long moment. Vernon spun in his chair and pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the remains of exhaustion weighing his body down as he made his way over to the doctor’s table.

“It’s something your father and I were working on before…before this project was abandoned, almost a decade ago,” Dr. Connors said. He was looking at the display with a different kind of intensity in his eyes, like it was something to be defeated rather than discovered. “When I lost your father, I gave up all hope of ever getting back to it, but after all my recent failures, I think I need to revisit my roots.”

Vernon pursed his lips at failures, but said nothing. The hologram looked like a DNA strand—a double helix blown to the size of a poster tube. It shone with a dull blue light, lighting up Dr. Connor’s features, illuminating the creases around his mouth and eyes that Vernon wasn’t sure had been there before. Standing next to him made his own tiredness feel like a minor inconvenience.

“This was your father’s brainchild, after all,” the man said, still staring at the display. “A completely independent protoplasmic model based on the body’s own genetic edifice built to fortify the weaker structure of a sick body.”

“A protoplasmic model?” Vernon’s eyes widened. “I thought it was supposed to be controlled AI, like nanobots or something.”

“Imagine that, except a sentient being with the ability to detect and eradicate weaknesses in the body on its own, without any direction,” Dr. Connors said. “Something to cure everything—the right combinations of proteins able to use the body’s own natural resources to fight any infection, overcoming the problem of grafting and able to treat everything from neural atrophy to genetic diseases to cancer, contained in a small tubule.” His eyes shone. “The perfect cure.”

The perfect cure. Vernon glanced back at the holographic model, now seeing the inconsistencies in its structure when compared to normal human DNA. The idea was intoxicating and exhilarating, made even more amazing by the fact that it had been proposed by his father. It made his chest ache with longing, thinking of the possibilities of fulfillment if his father had been alive still—not just for the experiment, but for Vernon himself.

“He was way ahead of his time, Richard Parker—in that sense, you are a lot like him,” Dr. Connors murmured in a low, wistful voice, as if speaking to himself. “It had become almost impossible for us to receive any support or funding for our project, because of how wildly imaginative it was. We were ridiculed, discredited, called mad for our ideas before we finally got the deal with Oscorp. We had worked on the cure for so long, and just a couple of days before the deal’s signing, your father called me one night, sounding excited about a fresh prospect.” He shook his head. “But then…”

He didn’t need to complete his sentence. Vernon caught the drift of it, and turned away to hide the pained expression brought onto his face by the flood of emotions. He didn’t know if he felt good about being so close to his father’s work, or bad about being so far away from his father himself. Even the mere presence of his old colleague, still alive while he wasn’t, seemed to taunt Vernon.

Snap out of it, he told himself firmly. His father’s death hadn’t been Dr. Connors’s fault—he knew that, but still had to avoid even thinking of that idea, because once the seeds had been planted in his brain, Vernon knew he wouldn’t be able to work with Dr. Connors in harmony. Plus, watching him talk about the work he and his dad had done together, no one could say that the scientist didn’t care about his former partner.

“What did he discover?” Vernon prompted.

Dr. Connors’s eyes turned sad. “I never did get to find out,” he said. “Just two days after the call, he was finally going to come back to the state to share his discoveries with me, so we could compare notes and build on what was lacking. The first step to phase two, he called it.” His jaw tightened. “And just when we thought something was going to go right for once…”

Vernon hung his head. Maybe knowing his father had been on the verge of a breakthrough should have made him feel better about his achievements, but he only thing that Vernon could think about was what all the world had lost when he had lost his dad. A revolution in medicine. A father. He was almost a little uneasy thinking about which kind of loss affected him more. The world could have been a much better place, but all Vernon wanted was his dad back.

“I’ve been unfair to you, Vernon,” Dr. Connors said, breaking him out of his reverie. He straightened while keeping his eyes fixed on the DNA hologram, then faced Vernon with a sad look. “You should have had someone to help you come to terms with your father’s death, someone who could have told you about his great ideas and even greater work. I shouldn’t have left you alone to deal with everything, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to…”

His voice had lowered with every syllable until he trailed off, making Vernon think that his voice had finally become too small for anyone to hear. Vernon swallowed, unable to think of anything to say. He was usually good at talking to people, even heart-to-hearts, but when the subject touched his obscure past, words failed him.

“I understand,” he said, the first words that came to his blank mind. He tried for a reassuring smile, unsure of what the result actually looked like. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for it. And anyway, I am here now.”

Dr. Connors smiled a little. “That, you are,” he said. “I feel like I’ve been doing your genius intellect a great injustice by assigning you all these menial tasks.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta do the menial tasks, right?” He smiled back. “My experience with research is next to nothing compared to that of the other people in this lab, so I’m fine with where I am. And not all the tasks are exactly menial.”

“Still.” The man sighed. “Since it was your father’s genius that came up with this idea, it feels only right to have you develop it further—or at least play a role in its creation.”

“I’m here whenever you need me,” Vernon said, glad about the lightening of the atmosphere. He wasn’t sure how much more of that weight he could have taken. He cocked his head, studying the listed proteins. “What made you want to work on this ‘cure’ again after so long?”

“A lot of different reasons,” the scientist said. “I think I had been avoiding this project for so long because I couldn’t bear to continue it without Richard by my side, but meeting you, his son, and having you take up a position in my lab felt like a sign.” He gave the boy a sideways smile. “And from a scientific viewpoint—before this, I’d been working on a different kind of cure, a serum with a principle based in cross-species genetics. It was supposed to be give a person the ability to regenerate lost limbs like a lizard, but the premature human trials went off the rails.”

Vernon nodded, keeping his mouth clamped shut. “I see,” he said, not wanting to bring up the Lizard incident unless he was sure Dr. Connors was ready to address it.

“However, after someone helped…fix the problem by making an anti-serum, the new formula for it gave me an idea,” the man continued. “Scientific inspiration, I guess you could call it. There’s a lot to be done, but I still have the anti-serum here in the lab, and have been studying it for over a month now.”

The gears had already begun turning in Vernon’s head. He had been the one to create the anti-serum as Spider-Man, and no one knew the methodology better than the original creator. Most of it had stemmed from the original Lizard formula, and with a bit of recalibration and measured reversal, the formula had worked. That makes me wonder…

“Hey, doc,” he murmured, brow pinched into a thoughtful frown, “if you had a sample of perfectly bonded human and non-human cell structure, do you think you would be able to mimic it and engineer a matching structure for the cure?”

The man frowned. “How do you mean?”

“I mean…” Vernon hesitated. Because of the OZ formula transferred into his blood by the spider bite, his DNA was perfectly bonded to spider DNA, which gave him what they called in post-human-speak a ‘healing factor’. It wasn’t as effective as Wolverine’s, but it was still something—and it was based on the same principle as the cure. Like the OZ formula helped his body develop a natural cure for anything he could be hit by—be it a paper cut or a head wound—by using its own resources.

The only difference was that it heightened his facilities by combining human abilities with spider abilities, which gave him things like his spider sense. However, if Vernon could use his own blood to develop a kind of skeletal structure for the cure. If it did work, it would only work on enhanced spider/human DNA, but at least then he’d have a start. The possibilities after that were endless.

“If there already existed a perfect sample of blood which had an in-built system like the cure,” Vernon said, trying not to give away too many details.

“Like mutant DNA?” Dr. Connors asked. “They have a completely different genetic structure in place, though, Vernon. They have the X-Gene. Their nucleotide sequence itself is mutated.”

“No, not like that,” Vernon said. “Like human DNA, just…enhanced. Bonded with something like the cure, just not—not living.”

Dr. Connors raised his eyebrows. “Well, having a perfect sample would reduce the needed brainwork to a tenth,” he said. “But you couldn’t acquire a sample like that, because, well, it exists only in theory.”

“Right,” Vernon muttered, but already the beginnings of a smile had started to curve his lips. “Only in theory.”

Vernon’s mind was buzzing with so much excitement from his idea for the cure that even web-slinging hadn’t been able to distract him from it.

He and the rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D. team had spent the evening scouring the city for any signs of something that could substantiate Vernon’s theory, but had come up with nothing except a few petty criminals, who had been easily stopped. The other three had left early, telling him to use their new communication devices (which looked an awful lot like kitschy wrist bands, except for the fact that they could turn invisible) if anything came up.

Nothing did.

It was nine p.m. and Vernon had still not changed out of his Spidey suit, spending the free hour to swing around the city and try and clear his head. Too much had happened in one day, and his mood was seesawing between elation at his new project and trepidation because of the dreaded return of movie night. Funny that a high school hangout was a source of more nervousness for him than trying to imitate his own radioactive blood sample to finish his dad’s decades old design.

When I put it like that, it sounds even more absurd, he thought, scrolling through the usual evening homework-help texts on his phone as he waited in line to buy eggs and a carton of milk at the not-so-local grocery store. Even Spider-Man had to obey queues when he was out doing chores for Aunt May.

He paid for the eggs and milk without the tattooed cashier giving him a second glance, and stepped out into the street with the bags. Aunt May wouldn’t be back until ten; he had about an hour to kill until curfew, but he wanted to get home early to talk to her about movie night (yet another reaction to dread) and hopefully study his spidery OZ-bonded radioactive blood under the lens of his old microscope that Uncle Ben had gotten him over a year ago.

“Yo, Spidey!”

Vernon looked up to see a chubby, tanned guy in his late twenties beaming at him like an old friend as he jogged up to meet him. “Hey, I remember you,” he said, pointing at the guy. “You’re uhhh…” He squinted at him, trying to remember when he’d last seen him. “That pizza delivery guy who almost got abducted by aliens!”

“That’s me! Paulo!” the guy exclaimed, his wide smile widening even more upon being recognized. “You saved me from those killer robot aliens last month, remember? And I promised you free pizza in case you ever needed it,” he added. “How’s it going?”

“As usual.” He raised the bag containing the groceries he’d just bought.

“Running errands when you get a break from crime-fighting, eh?” Paulo asked, giving his thick dark curls a shake. His smile refused to dim even a bit, like someone had switched on a light bulb with a permanent power source. “Keeps the superheroes humble.”

“Tell that to Captain America.” Vernon checked the comm device on his wrist, almost groaning out loud when he saw it was almost half past nine already. “Great. Uh, Paulo, I’ll have to catch you later. It’s late, and I gotta get back well before curfew in case there are delays on the way.”

“Of course! Go do your Spider-Man thing.” Paulo lifted his hands, mimicking the thwip-thwip gesture of shooting webs, and grinned. “See you later, Spidey!” he called out from behind him as Vernon swung himself up to a lamppost before launching himself into the air. “Remember the offer with the free pizzas still stands!”

“I will!” Vernon yelled back as he swung away. And he wasn’t just saying that, either—free pizzas were free pizzas.

He had to change in an alleyway again, but thankfully this time it didn’t have an open dumpster or smell like someone had thrown out a decayed cheese slab in the trash. By the time he got back home, Aunt May was already back, as indicated by the lights in the kitchen. Just perfect, he thought miserably, as he unlocked the front door with his spare key and trudged into the hallway.

“Vernon! You’re back early,” a voice yelled from the kitchen when she heard the door shut behind him. A woman with short silver hair, clad in a comfortable t-shirt and yoga pants came out into the living room as he entered it, wiping her hands with a hand towel. “Did you get the milk and eggs like I asked you to?” Aunt May asked.

For an older lady, she sure has great hearing. “Yep,” he said, swinging his bag off his shoulders and unzipping it, internally praying he hadn’t squashed the milk carton from all his swinging like last time. Thankfully, they were undamaged. “Did you come back from yoga classes early?”

“Oh, Denise pulled a muscle in her back, poor thing,” May said. “I offered to bring her back home, but she refused to let me ice it for her, saying she’d get Mac to do it instead.” She disappeared into the kitchen once again, coming out without the hand towel this time. “Put the groceries in the fridge, won’t you?”

For an older lady, Aunt May also had a lot of things going for her. Yoga classes on Monday-alternating weekdays, squash sessions over the weekend, classes for baking and music and whatnot—she might even have been busier than Vernon himself.

“Will do,” he said, obeying. His mind was still swimming with all the older thoughts, but now that he was standing right in front of Aunt May, the worry about movie night had pushed itself to the forefront, demanding all of his nervous attention.

He stood at the fridge even after closing the door, chewing his lip and wondering how to bring it up. Words really had failed him today. “Aunt May?” he ventured, unable to keep the hint of nerves from his voice. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What is it, honey?” she asked, poking her head out of the kitchen. Around her waist was an apron that said Don’t Kiss the Cook. “Vernon?”

He kissed his teeth, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet. “It’s about movie night.”

She stilled. “What about movie night?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, Vernon thought, pursing his lips. Aunt May hadn’t exactly been close with the Osborns, but he knew she had cared about Harry in her own way, the same way she cared about any neglected kid that Vernon brought home like an abandoned cat. She gave them as much comfort as she could, tried to give them the family they never really had, even if she knew she couldn’t completely replace them. It had happened before: Harry, and Luce—and now, Vernon thought with a little sigh, maybe even the team.

“Luce asked me to ask you if you were okay with us doing movie night this weekend,” he said slowly. “And there are these new kids, and she told me to ask them too, but if you’re busy we can always—”

“Vernon!” Aunt May smiled widely, coming out of the kitchen to rest her hands on his shoulders and give them a big squeeze. “Of course I’m okay with it! Oh, you don’t know how I wished you kids would do one of those again, I’m sure that’s what Harry would have wanted too.” She gave him a motherly smile, one that was soft and sad at the same time. “I’ll leave the house to you kids that day.”

“Oh, no, Aunt May, that’s not necessary—” he started, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t be so formal with me, kiddo,” she said. “I know movie night means a lot to you, and if you have new friends coming over, I’m sure you don’t want a chaperone around.” She raised her eyebrows. “Although I would like to meet them before I go out.”

Vernon sighed, but there was a tiny smile on his face. “God, you’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She winked. “Besides, even an old woman like me needs to go out with her friends every once in a while, too. This might just turn out to be a good break for both of us.”

He nodded, feeling a welling of emotion in his chest that wouldn’t go down no matter how much he tried to push it away. One less thing to worry about, he thought half-heartedly, trying not to think about how Aunt May’s agreement meant movie night was on, which had the potential to be an even more worrying prospect. “I hope so.”

[yicruz48]

Teen Titans Review #43

July/14/2020.

This issue is the continuation of the Teen Titans (Emiko, Wallace, Roundhouse and Crush) investigating the murder of Brother Blood. 

The issue begins with Damian fighting crime in Gotham City  and collecting data on KG Beast that I believe he uses later in the issue to find him. He is again sputtering insults at Batman’s way of handling things which seems to be his default inner monologue under Robbie Thompson. 

And while I agree Batman methods aren’t the best, it makes Damian seem like a know-it-all that somehow knows more about fighting crime than his father who has spent longer fighting against it. For me personally, this makes Damian to be foolishly ignorant.  

As Damian starts to struggle against his opponents Jon suddenly swoops in to assist him.   

Although I admit I was pleasantly surprised to see Jon appear again in Teen Titans (even if it was aged-up Jon) there is apart of me that felt like this essentially useless to the story. 

Jon expresses his concern for Damian’s future, he confesses that he has heard and seen things while with the Legion that has made him worry about Damian. I’m not sure if this implies Jon knows about what has been going on in the batfamiy or with Teen Titans although it surely confirms Jon is concerned.  

Although not concerned enough to further question if Damian is really okay. What really frustrates me is that a correctly-written Jon would not just settle with, “I am fine, Jonathan,” especially if Damian turned his back on him as he answered (clearly indicating that he wasn’t okay). The real Jon would most likely continue to annoy Damian about what's going on until he confesses. The real Jon would possibly drop everything with the Legion to watch over Damian. 

Unless, (and I hate to say this) this is an indication that Damian and Jon’s friendship is wavering and drifting apart. In other words, what we may be witnessing is the end of their friendship. 

We are then taken back to Mercy Hall where Emiko (Mainly Emiko) and Wallace are analyzing dirt from Brother Blood’s lair to determine the murderer. Before cutting off to Crush and Roundhouse we are told the murderer intentionally left evidence behind to leave a message to the team. This tells us the suspect is connected to the team. 

 While Crush and Roundhouse take down more Blood Cult safe houses they discover new information about Brother Blood’s plans before dying. 

What we find out:

-> Brother Blood wanted to control the whole city with his toxic chemicals. 

-> First on Brother Blood’s hit list was the Teen Titans. Which isn’t surprising since essentially Brother Blood and Black Mask were in Damian’s prison the longest. Its only natural he would want to get revenge on the Teen Titans so much they were first on his list. 

I guess this also highlights that Damian is actually afraid, if he wasn’t fearful that Brother Blood would kill his former team members then he would’ve let Brother Blood let them have it. I guess...thank you for the little compassion Robbie?

The Teen Titans (Emiko, Wallace, Roundhouse and Crush) then regroup to share what information they’ve found. 

As Crush and Roundhouse reveal their findings Emiko reveals the culprit: Damian (surprise, surprise...not really). 

I have to point this out, but one of the things that annoyed me the most of  this issue was that Roundhouse was somehow surprised that Damian killed Brother Blood. Like out all of the Teen Titans Roundhouse should be the least surprised, I mean he was the who literally wanted to pin the team against Damian a few issues (specifically Issue 35 for those wondering):

So I don’t understand why the heck Roundhouse caught off guard by this revelation. I understand Crush, but Roundhouse? I don’t know if this was intentional or not but it made Roundhouse come off as fake and playing the emotion up in his favor. And this ended up making me hate Roundhouse even more than I already did. 

But as much as hate him, I guess he was really saying the truth in issue 35:

“Robin’s got us all thinking that we’ve ‘solved crime. ’But really we’re all just pawns in his creepy obsession with showing up his old man.” 

Because looking at the all the issues Robbie Thompson has collectively written, that is essentially what it seems like. 

 As the Teen Titans rush to get to Damian we see Damian still in Gotham city stalking his next prey; KG Beast. 

 Before we move on, I want to bring attention something that really disturbs me about these panels: 

“But my path was determined by fate. By blood. By Batman himself.” 

Damian is essentially saying here that he was destined to be a killer since birth, because of his legacies, because of his father. This literally goes against everything Gleason wrote in Robin: Son of Batman. Which literally proved that Damian’s upbringings and legacies don’t define him. They are apart of what he is but don’t make him...well him. 

Honestly its devastating how much this trashes Gleason’s and Tomasi’s development.

Also, I am speculating that, “I know the future,” is referring to when Djinn showed Damian what his dream future held. You know the one he shed tears about because it was so beautiful or something? Yea, that one.

Moving on, as Damian is getting closer to make a move on KG Beast (for what essentially happened several months ago) the rest of the Teen Titan’s gang up on Damian. The fight against Damian begins with Roundhouse throwing the first punch. 

Unsurprisingly, Damian manages to avoid anything the Titans throw at him (I say this because if you don’t remember, the Teen Titans haven’t had a chance to train with Damian except Emiko. Although even Emiko can’t take him down).

And motivated by pure blood-thirst and revenge Damian jumps on KG Beast and immediately starts attacking him in order to prove to the Teen Titans what real justice looks like. After again flawlessly moving past the Teen Titans the issue ends with Damian slicing one of KG Beast’s arms. 

Conclusions: 

-> Wouldn’t be surprised if that bit of dirt that Bruce found in Damian’s room was planted there by Damian intentionally in order to lead Bruce to him. Like why not? If we are shitting on Damian’s development might as will pull all the stops. PS: Surprised Bruce called Damian his son . 

-> I hate Roundhouse, I really do. I need Robbie Thompson to at least do me a favor and make Roundhouse go poof like Djinn.

-> At the beginning of the Issue we are told Damian is “at crossroads” between deciding what path he will take. Toward the end of the issue, Emiko tells Damian he’s “crossed the line.” So I am taking a quick guess and assuming Damian has now made his decision which is essentially becoming an anti-hero.

-> I really hate that Damian is essentially pushing his murder agenda on the Teen Titans. As much as I despise Glass at least he wrote Damian as giving the Teen Titans a chance to work with him or not.  

-> Don’t know if you noticed but most of this issue occurred in Gotham City, in other words: Batman’s city. Damian is really looking stupid by attacking KG Beast in Gotham City where Batman could easily bump into him as he makes the final blow. 

-> I truly hate that Damian is wielding his sword. I saw his sword as a symbol as of a ‘new life’ and ‘redemption’ now it seems like a symbol for his regression.

-> A little confused as to how Damian plans to carry out this plan of “eliminating crime”, like with the help of who? He can’t achieve this on his own. And as skilled as Damian is, he’s  not superhuman-enough  for me to believe it could happen. 

-> I’ve been seeing some people on twitter and tumblr claim that Damian didn’t really admit to murder but I personally took it as he did. I can see their side but I don’t know what to think of it besides, ‘I hope that is what it means and I am reading it wrong.” 

-> Like to mention some theories I’ve seen:

- Damian didn’t really say he killed Bother Blood, so him killing is still not confirmed. 

-This Issue mentions Fear a lot,  it might be connected to the fear toxin.

- Djinn is behind Damian’s odd behavior.

-> Something I want to point out that I did not know if it was intentional or not by the artist:

Damian has this original rounded unity belt at the beginning of the issue: 

And then brands a different rectangle utility belt for the rest of the issue:

I don’t know if this was Damian switching belts in order to not be tracked by Bruce or something else...

Also! Please do not move on just yet! Time to stand on my soap box again!

-> This is something I, @wesavegotham​ and @joejimmyjon​ have been discussing:

If you are buying TT issues you need to stop. Please don’t waste your precious money on this comic (plus *cough cough* there is literally websites for you read them for free. Its a bit of wait, spanning about 7-12 hours to be uploaded but this is a way to avoid giving this comic money). Save up your money for Deceased and Gotham Nights. Put your money where it deserves to be spent. Use your money to show DC the comics what your wiling to spend your money for.  

-> Shout out to my fellow twitter Super Son accounts. Continue voicing your frustrations with DC under their posts (constructively of course). It was brought to my attention that my comment, along with some of my mutuals comments were feature in article. Some of them criticizing the unfair treatment of Damian. 

If you don’t have a twitter account, I suggest you get one and join us in voicing our frustrations. 

Okay, I am done now! If you haven't read Gotham Nights #12-13 and Hope at Worlds End GO READ IT NOW!! 

Also I heard Patrick Gleason uploaded some livestreams on Instagram conveniently while we are mourning Damian’s regression.

Really good stories with Damian to cheer you up. All of them one dollar each on comixology.  

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse: Epilogue

Note: Wooo boy, it’s over. Now I know not many people may have read this, it may not have the best editing and some parts are a bit vague and not the best. In fact I’ll probably revise some parts at a later date or if I ever decide to post on A03, but I am still super proud of it. I think I did some great character parts and there are some sections that I’m just super proud of. I’m also happy that I actually finished it. It’s my longest fic to date and I actually completed it! 30 chapters. Well 32 if you include the prologue and epilogue. So cool! Plus I wrote what I really wanted, which I’ll admit was not the plot. The plot was a bit wonky and maybe I had too many characters that I didn’t juggle well and didn’t give them all equal exploration. Also action scenes were hard for me to write so those were not the best. But still- getting to explore these characters and their relationships and include several of my favorite Disney characters. Very fun. Also thanks to @edream93 for encouraging me when this was just a little idea, looking over some sections and offering advice and for overall being an amazing person. Check out her WLTF and other descendants fics like London Fog Nightcaps. And for the final time, hope y’all enjoy reading.

Flash forward to summer break in Agrabah

Jordan stretched, cracking her back after sitting hunched at her desk for the past hour editing her latest video How to Date a Djinn Episode 3. She had finally convinced the tech-averse Calix to join her in making satire videos of all the most terrible dates she had been on. Initially, she had planned for it to be a serious thing where she reminded her viewers of genie autonomy and the idea they had feelings behind their wishing powers, but Calix was never good at playing emotional PSAs.

Besides it was more fun that way to spoof how terrible, and sometimes ridiculous her romantic suitors were. Plus the hilarity kept her from thinking too much about the bitterness of the memories.

She cracked her neck and poofed outside to Aziz’s room where her lamp laid on its usual perch. Outside she could hear the thump of running feet and the screech of confused peacocks.

“Malik! No riding the peacocks!” A servant shouted

“Yes, riding peacocks!”

“No, Noor, Fahran, that’s not allowed. Get off of them!”

Jordan shook her head in amusement at the kids' antics.

Noor and Fahran were having a blast hanging out with their new “little” brother as they called the 5 year old. Though they were family in a way. Jade was the half sister to Aladdin’s half brother, Mozonroth. And Malik was their nephew. Even though the family tree was a bit tangled and confusing to visualize in your head.

And where Jade and Malik were concerned, Jay was also included as Aladdin had originally planned in inviting the former thief to Agrabah so they could get to know each other, and Jay, to get in touch with the more savory side of his heritage. Jay and Aladdin had especially hit off as they compared lives on the streets and bragged about some of their more daring heists so any concern of whether the Jafar connection would sour things was gone. All together, Jay, Jade and Malik were new, though unofficial members of the family. Aladdin, and Jasmine decided to hold off any official adoption in respect to Jay and Jade’s feelings.

Though, having three new members meant triple the chaos, the running in the halls and inevitable breaking of antique objects. It was still triple the fun.

Razoul, predictably, despised the decision. But hey, he wasn’t the sultan.

Jordan peeked out to the hall, no sign of peacock racing or frazzled servants anywhere. Since she’d been inside so long she decided to go outside to the backyard.

Passing the living room, she saw Jay playing some sort of Wii-fit game against Carlos, Lonnie and Gil whose scores were also reflected on the screen even as they played millions of miles away in their own living rooms. Jordan checked the time, ah it was 2’o clock on the doubt. Jay always called his friends at this time since it was when the time zones converged suitably for all of them to chat.

Jade was lounging on the couch, facetiming her girlfriend, Yzla. Jordan waved, and Jade waved in return, focusing mainly on their conversation which involved some llama prank with Empress Malina. Yzla was staying with Emperor Kuzco and his family. A arrangement Kuzco had initially been against but his wife and son overruled him. Which was for the best because apparently Yzla and him were hitting it off like two peas in a pod, scaring Malina, by tricking her into thinking Kuzco had changed into a llama again.

Huh, that reminded her, she hadn’t checked social media in a few hours. So she scrolled through, looking at Ben’s new post that there was to be a new class in the fall. Magic 101 with Flora, Fauna and Merrywhether and many surprise guest lecturers.

The Magic 101 class had been one of Uma’s many ideas for the new and improved Auradon. She told Ben of Alexandria’s reasoning for the revolt, explaining that the pressure for magic creatures to deny their magic was a strong reason for resentment, and most importantly, unfair. And Ben, who had been present at several meetings where mermaids, fairies and others stated their petitions of complaints, agreed. King Ben had removed the magic ban and decided to institute the Magic 101 class. Contrary to the name, the class wasn’t for magical beings, they already knew how to deal with their powers and not use them to affect others or supposedly cheat at life. The class was a requirement for Auradonians to learn about their fellow beings, how it was a vital part of them and the greater natural world.

Ben had actually suggested that she’d be the magical liaison and teacher assistant for the new Magic 101 classes but she had politely declined. She did accept going as a demonstrator whenever it was time for her Dad’s guest lecture.

But a fulltime TA? It sounded like too much work, her powers were not applicable to the greater magical population, and most importantly, she really wanted to get back to doing her auratube show. Especially now that she was bound to have so many new subscribers thanks to her newfound fame for helping to defeat the Coven.

Jordan had considered doing a series about the Isle mission against the Coven in order to get the story straight and not create too wild legends regarding their month and a half there. And okay, there was also the fact that she wanted to renew her hits after losing subscribers after not posting for a month.

But she ultimately decided not to. It was their mission, only they’d get what happened in that wild untamed place of evil and poverty. Besides, it was very personal and she didn’t want to have to go into her fights with Aziz and Jay on Auratube. Or her encounter with Antiquam.

No she’d rather not think about the latter for a very long time.

Dismissing those thoughts she scrolled through several more posted announcements like the newly formed Minority Kingdom Council made up of representatives from Atlantis, Atlantica, Arrendelle, Kuzcoropia, and Pydrian, who were overrun by environmental and tourism concerns as Alexandria brought up. There was also a new class of Vks that were coming in. Basically the teen population of the Isle.

The orphans and kids from the Isle were sent to boarding elementary schools around Auradon as well as foster care with professional trained therapists for the abused youngsters.

Ben’s decision to bring the whole teen population in had been a controversial one. But he had stood by it, stating that he was taking the advice of his people, the ones from his generation who were to make up the future generation and a schoolwide vote had agreed that the Vks should be let in.

Granted it had taken a two month lobbying campaign led by Mal and Evie with Lonnie, Carlos, Jane and Jay’s help. But they did, they persuaded lots of royal kids that it was better to bring Vks over. It also helped that Mal, Jay, Evie, Carlos and Uma had been pronounced Auradon’s saviors thrice in a row so…

Though it wouldn’t be until August that all the Vks, with a few exceptions like the resolutely bad CJ Hook and Prince Lars, and Antiquam, would be able to get to Auradon. But they would, Uma was making sure of it. Even Zevon and Ginny were coming despite their actions in proudly helping the Coven, Ben believed they just needed to be removed from the negative influences of their mothers.

Some Vks had already come over like Carlos’ cousin. Diego had refused to enter the VK program through school, but through the work progrm. Now he and his band, Rotten Apples, could introduce Isle grunge rock to Auradon’s farmer populations and inspire them to use music to express themselves. Carlos informed them that Diego wasn’t too into that inspiration and empowerment stuff, but he was loving the popularity. And he often crashed to the Radcliff house to catch up with Carlos and get a break from his adoring fans.

Harriet Hook, also in the work program, was working in Neverland, serving as guard for docks and a pretty mean one too, Jordan heard. Any tourist that tried to sneak

Not that everyone was residing in the homes of their parents’ enemies. Celia Facilier was living with her sister Freddie, and Freddie’s girlfriend, Ally at the Mad for Tea Shop. Also as a student by day and helping her sister as the evening entertainment at night. Singing only. FG was still wary of introducing such sketchy magic as card readings. Celia did choose to be a TA to her sister’s class, Goodness 101. Freddie was taking over for FG to make it a revamped, less patronizing seminar of how to act in Auradon with Ally popping in for politeness lessons and Carlos with therapy dogs. Though FG still stayed in the room to supervise and make sure the class stayed on track and not turn into “Everything that’s wrong about sappy sweet Auradon.”

Dizzy was reunited with her mother, her aunt Anastasia, her uncle, the Baker and Anthony Tremine and they lived in the faculty building of Auradon Prep. Easy for Anthony and Dizzy to get to school and for the Baker to go to his new job as school cook.

His baguettes were to die for, so flaky and crispy. Even Chad reluctantly agreed to their goodness when she interviewed him for student reactions to the new cook. Anastasia and Drizella were the new cosmeticians in training at the school’s day spa even though the two still argued over what was a better color and such.

Also working in Auradon’s kitchen were Gil, and Cosette’s mothers who had taken in their other’s sister’s sons, Gaston Jr, Gaston the Third and Gaston (IV) the Great. Their mother had been deemed just as abusive as Gaston and was to stay on the Isle with him. Gil had been nervous about living with his brothers again but he had Cosette by his side and Harry and Uma just a street away. Harry was just as fiercely loyal as ever to his crew and to Uma, who he’d wait for outside of Ben’s office, waiting for their meetings to end.

Gil also had Jay on his side. And though Jordan had absolutely no proof, she just felt something between them, and she was planning to use this summer to sniff out just what it was.

It had been more controversial to bring back some adult villains like Anastasia and Circe, but Ben had explained that he was not in the business of tearing families apart and adults were able to change too. Smee, for instance, wanted to retire from swabbing desks and wanted his second act in life to follow his lifelong dream. Be a clockmaker, ironically enough considering his boss’ fear of the ticking. Same with other low level henchmen like Jace and Harry, and Hun soldiers that had been following the battle orders and propaganda Shan Yu had fed them.

Ben had promised not all adults would come over, especially not ones that had abused their children, and that he, Mal and Uma were designing a careful vetting process for this program.

As for the Auradonian bred villains. Morgana and Morgaine hadn’t stayed in the dungeon for long. One day the guards had come down to give their food and they were just gone. No one knew where they went and no magic had been able to locate them. Merlin said it was no use trying. The Le Feys were tricky and wouldn’t reappear again unless they wanted to.

Kyro, Victoria and Alexandria were in therapy now in a new building away from the dorms and those who would shun them for their actions like the media that had reviled them when the news leaked out. It was a bit of a depressing building Jordan thought since one could see it if they leaned far out their windows. The outside of it looked like an insane asylum but Evie enthused about how open- aired and peaceful it was inside. The point of it was to clear the outside world, and focus on healing. What’s more, since Uma learned of FG’s somewhat oblivious and condescending advice from Alexandria, they hired a new counselor. A Dr. Mickey Mouse.

So yeah, things seemed to wrapping out into a happily ever after for all.

Jordan walked into a door, rubbing her head of the bruise and cursing herself for not looking up. Tucking the phone in her pocket, she was about to open the door when Aziz opened it for her, heading inside from hanging out on the hammock.

He didn’t even look at her as he entered, he was busy chatting on the phone with who else, his new girlfriend.

Aziz had stayed true to his word that he and Lala were just friends, and remained just friends for three months. It had irritated Jordan to no end to watch them sneak discreet looks, study together since Lala only knew the Atlantean alphabet and not the English, and dance around their feelings as if the obvious wasn’t there. And it took all her self control to honor her vow to not meddle and send a flying carpet in to speed things up.

At least Aziz did not shut her out completely and still went to her advice for what to do when he asked her to be his girlfriend.

“What if she says no? Or doesn’t know what that is. Jay did say it was only gang activity. Or maybe she’ll just say no because she thinks she’ll go crazy like her mom. But I really want her to say yes. Oh Allah, what if I mess it up instead by acting like an idiot. Or she already thinks that. I walked into a wall yesterday.”

“Aziz, she likes you,” Jordan reassured him, “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Like a leopard with dinner, she totally wants to eat you. In a sexy, hungry with desire way. Not cannibal way. And really, walking into a wall? That’s not a dealbreaker or even embarrassing. If you want to talk about embarrassing, nothing can top the time you popped in front of that yoga instructor you were trying to impress.” “I had food poisoning from the oysters!” Aziz yelled indiginantly.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you shitted during downward dog,” Jordan smirked at Aziz’s flustered angry face, “Nor was it like that time when you tried to impress Anxlin with a butterfly knife and ended up-”

“Will you stop bringing up the past?” Jordan decided to change tactics and be the serious, comforting big sister that he wanted, “Just speak from the heart. You’re on the same page with so many things, and you talk so much. Sooo much, it’s kinda annoying. Especially when you’re yapping in my room when I’m trying to watch a movie. But anyway, I think when the time comes your heart will guide you to say the right thing. And if not… your lips can speak for you.”

So with that fabulous advice if Jordan said so herself, on the last day of school, before they went their separate ways for vacation. Aziz went to her room and asked her.

And while she said she wouldn’t meddle, Jordan totally turned into a bee to go through the keyhole and eavesdrop on their conversation. For moral support. Just Aziz didn’t know about it.

It was endearingly awkward as Aziz stammered through some rambling monologue of how he liked her a lot, and only if she was okay with it, but he really thought they had something so woud she maybe consider being his girlfriend.

Aziz should probably have gotten some lessons from Jay on the art of smooth, but Lala seemed to get it. “So if we’re in a relationship we do what we do now… but with kissing?” she clarified.

“Yes!” Aziz agreed eagerly, then tried to dial down his excitement, “I mean sure, if you want.”

“I would really like that,” Lala bit her lip nervously but her expression was hopefully as Aziz leaned in.

Their kiss was short, two seconds at the most. Jordan would have given it a three out of five. It was unsure and the two seemed to be surprised they even did it. But it was clear from the look in their eyes, that they only saw each other and the rest of the world was already fading away for them, that that small kiss was perfect to them.

So they kissed again. Much more purposefully this time. Oh Allah, Jordan was so proud when Aziz added some passion and slipped tongue first. He was really growing up.

And they kissed again, and again and soon they were making out on Lala’s bed, which was starting to get kinda gross and Jordan was feeling weird about watching them. So she took that as her cue to leave.

But now she had plenty of new things to annoy Aziz about so she took it as a plus.

Grabbing him by the arm to stop, Jordan grabbed his camera.

“Hi, Lala, how are you?” Jordan waved, mugging for the camera as Aziz grabbed it back, and tried to push her out of the frame. The white-haired girl was dressed up in Evie’s new line of summer clothes with her hair up in a bun, and most startingly, her brown eyes were human.

It was silly that Jordan was surprised by Lala’s human eyes, she had been the one to change them when in a burst of good will offered all their allies on the adventure a wish. Lala hadn’t used the offered three wishes, just one, which was to remove the leopard spell Queen La had put on her. She lost her cat eyes and the habit of walking on all fours, but she still had her cat-like grace which Jordan chalked up to natural ability. It had been three months since that wish, but she had been so used to Lala’s cat-like slits with the dilated pupils. It had been a unique marker like the scar that everyone could see on Lala’s leg when she wore shorts.

“I’m well. Aziz sent me your new vlog about Odiferous, it was very interesting.” Lala nodded curtly. Jordan knew Lala was usually guarded against everyone so the coldness didn’t bother her as much as it used to. Thanks to hanging out with Aziz and Jade, she was starting to slowly warm up to people she wasn’t close to even though her tone didn’t reflect it.

“How are the Porters?” Jordan asked, cutting off whatever Aziz was about to say next. He glared at her, but she ignored. Hey, she said she’d stop mothering him. So now it was back to  annoying big sister privileges.

“They’re well. Kerchak and I are going tree surfing tomorrow.” Lala answered. When Ben put up the invitation of Vks in need of foster homes or adoptive families, the Porters offered to take in Clay Clayton, and Lala. Clay refused and went with his Aunt, Lady Waltham who was thrilled to meet her surly nephew for the first time. Lala joined the Porters where she was helping their gorilla reserve, connecting with animals instead of hunting them for food and survival.

It was bound to be awkward considering their daughter’s actions, but Auradon seemed to consider it part of their penance even though they hadn’t known what Victoria had planned to wrought. But according to Lala, they did their best to skirt around that sensitive issue and treat her like a guest, and she was starting to befriend Kerchak. He even gave her a leopard of her own which she named Euware II though the pet made Tarzan a bit wary. Still, Lala had to stay in her room on weekends when Victoria visited from therapy.

“That’s great. When are you coming to visit? I know Jade is just dying for you to visit. It’d be fun. We can go sand surfing, oh and explore some of the caves under the citadel. Oh, oh and I just know Aziz wants to show you some of the secret alcoves in the palace. They’re great for making out and-” “Go away!” Aziz waved her off

“You want me to leave? But who will chaperon you two? Who will tell Lala all the embarrassing stories from your childhood? I’ve been holding onto blackmail for a reason, Aziz. I must tell her,” Jordan turned to the screen, “But seriously, come visit. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you!” Aziz sighed in exasperation, “Give me 5 minutes, I’ll join you to go to the bazaar later, Jord.”

“See ya!” Jordan called over the shoulder as she headed to the palace kitchen, still hearing some snippets of Aziz’s conversation about his summer psychology classes. His new passion since Jordan had suggested that since he liked overanalyzing and counselling other people's problems, he could research into being a psychologist.

Upon reaching the outside, Jordan took a big breath of the sweet summer air with a hint of jasmine and the coconut and sighed.

Life was good.

Of course, life was always good when it was summer vacation but it was more than that. She had really committed to what she had learned on the Isle. She lived in the present now, and tried not to wallow in the anger and resentment that extended to almost every human she met.

Did that kind of positive mindset always work? Hell no, sometimes, someone would grab her arm, requesting for a wish, rubbing her jacket as if that was the lamp and not her. Yeah, that stupid event would irritate her all morning but she didn’t go into her spiral of how all humans were greedy monsters, her life sucked that she had to walk among them and so on and so forth. She learned to vent to Aziz and let it go.

She would always meet bad people in her life, when that happened, if the situation was appropriate, she would blow a mini sandstorm in their face and move on.

She’d also gotten more sensitive about complaining about humanity in front of Aziz. She tried to complain of an individual person and not make broad generalizations about the mortal race, and repeat that Aziz and his family were the exception.

Well Aladdin’s family, and Uma, and Jay, and Lonnie, and Calix and Ben, and she was starting to realize her circle of those she trusted was expanding.

It felt good to have that knowledge.

Even if Aziz might not always be there, though she’d kill him if he wasn’t, she still had others who cared about her.

Then again, she, Calix, Aziz, Jay and Uma had been through a harrowing adventure that nearly destroyed the world they knew, and had to face their greatest fears and insecurities to do so. If that didn’t make you trust a person, what would?

There were also her parents. Her parents always had her back.

That was another thing she’d been committed to doing since she got back from the Isle and saved Auradon.

Her parents had been the first ones to get there, magical teleportation after all and were laying out the blue carpet and making plans for the greatest party in all of Agrabah for their daughter, the hero. Instead of getting annoyed by their zany antics as usual, and annoyed at how they ignored the fact she faced possibly life-ending danger against their enemies, she just hugged them.

The act had clearly surprised them because both of their jaws broke off and fell to the floor before snapping back up like a ball. But they loved the change in her nonetheless.

Ever since then, she’d been going out with them every other weekend, be it ice skating on Saturn’s rings or clubbing or going out to drink in celebration of the banning of the Magic Ban.

She had thought for so long that if she let herself act even a little bit like them, she’d be signing herself to a fate of servitude, never being taken seriously, and becoming a negligent oblivious person who only wanted to focus on fun.

She had worried that if these things didn’t come naturally to her, she’d have to fake it in order to fit in and be palatable to her own parents. So they wouldn’t become bored with her. She hadn’t liked thinking about it, but she always felt that was the underlying reason they left her.

But she lived in the present now and shoved all those thoughts away. She did what she wanted without thinking of the implications. And she found that actively listening to what they were saying, how they constantly suggested ideas for their next adventure, how it was too bad she had school and couldn’t come with them to their trip. They didn’t think she was a damper on their party style, they wanted her to be with them. And she usually said to each invitation.

YOLO, right. Well more like YOLFSMAWEI.

(You Only Live Forever So Might As Well Enjoy It. Not as catchy but infinitely more accurate)

Family time was a lot more enjoyable that way instead of brooding that once it was over, they were going to forget about her and go about their lives as if they didn’t have a daughter.

Although, Jordan still did crave for a meaningful talk where she got to tell them about some of her issues with their lack of parenting oversight, and maybe delve into how abandoned she felt when they wouldn’t discuss such issues like her rape, they still weren’t ready for that.

Though Aladdin was talking to her dad on her behalf, and it seemed he was starting to soften to it.

Until then, she had two sets of parents. Aladdin and Jasmine, probably the first humans who she trusted, and respected. The first ones who saw her as a child and not a being for wishes. They gave her the love and attention she had craved when she needed it. They stood by treating her like everyone else, as she wished, even when it meant disregarding her excuses that her genie-ness exempted her from getting in trouble. They were always present her lives and were the ones that reminded her that her supposed fate was not a fate, that no one could shackle her, not unless they went through them. They encouraged that there other sides to her besides being a genie. That she should work hard, be kind, be honest and be independent.

Her mom and dad, who loved her with all their hearts and thought of her as their best friend. It wasn’t the most parental relationship but she had started to accept that it would never be. They were genie parents, not human ones, and it was finally sinking in that the rules would always be different from them. No matter that Jordan looked human and was raised by them. But that’s what made them special. No one else in the world would get her quite like her mom and dad.

Aziz opened the door, knocking her in the back and she moved over so he could wait beside her.

She checked her phone. Her parents were supposed to come here five minutes ago so they culd go to the bazaar together.

They probably weren’t going to come for another twenty minutes.

Ah genies, Jordan sighed, they were never going to be punctual. She wondered how many years it would be before she started viewing time as an unimportant mortal construct.

She was about to pose that question to Aziz, whether it would occur in his lifetime or in her 5,000s when a green and blue poof popped up in front of them.

“We’re here!” The two blew the smoke away to reveal the pair in matching red and white striped tuxedos with a blinking “Genie and Eden” sign hanging behind them.

“It’s Genie and Eden!” Eden announced

“Eden and Genie!” Genie intoned.

Then with a snap of a finger, the props and costumes disappeared, and Genie sat thoughtfully in the air, “We can’t quite choose which sounds better.”

Eden went back to a form-fitting black leotard with a black bowler hat, smoking a cigar in her best Liza Minelli voice, “Whaddya think, daughter dear, whaddya think?”

“I think we should go to the bazaar and have the people decide which is better.” Jordan suggested, knowing that if they did it here, they wouldn’t leave.

“By george, she’s right!” Genie exclaimed transforming into a nerdy account, “Statistically, it is always better to test things with a test audience, and according to my calculations that the Agrabah bazaar has the best cross-pool of audience with 10% bearded, 40% kids..” He transformed into his usually big blue self, “Aaand let’s get outta here!”

“Wait up!” Jay yelled, nearly running into the four of them with Jade at his side, “I wanna go to the bazaar too, there was that awesome scimir I wanted to buy.” “Yeah me too, I want to steal things too… I-I mean buy. Buy with money. That I did not steal from the mean guard.” “His name is Razoul, and you really shouldn’t. He already doesn’t like you.” Aziz shook his head.

“I don’t like him, and that’s what makes it so tempting.” Jade defended.

“Yeah, he kinda has it coming,” Jay agreed.

“Now, now, we won’t say anything about it. But you must stop,” Eden warned in a prim British accent, poofing into a blue serge suit like a certain famous nanny, “Now spit spot, hurry up, we don’t want to be late to the bazaar.”

Genie transformed into a Bert to his wife’s Mary Poppins, adding, “Come ‘ere ye kiddos and ‘urry it ‘up.”

Jay and Jade stared at each in the classic “What the hell?” expression that bystanders always had whereas her parents were concerned. Aziz and Jordan just shrugged and smiled.

And so they went off to the bazaar and as the sun beated down on them, and Jordan whipped up a hijab from air to keep off the heat, she hummed a familiar tune which Aziz and her dad easily picked up.

“As you wind through the streets at the fabled bazaars with the cardamom-cluttered stalls. You can smell every spice while you haggle the price of the silks and the satin shawls. Oh, the music that plays as you move through a maze in the haze of your pure delight. You are caught in a dance. You are lost in the trance of another Arabian night…”

[ikesenhell]

A Family Tree

Bloodline, Chapter 3. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTE: Ayana is @jindalraekarkki’s lovely OC! Thank you so much!

Masamune and Mitsuhide nicknamed the archivist ‘Princess’. It was their idea of a joke, prompted unbidden by a remark Nobunaga made at the office. Something about Ieyasu ‘rescuing a Princess in distress’. 

“Very funny,” he snapped irritably. It wasn’t as if he needed a reminder on how he’d endangered the poor woman. The whole situation was his fault. “Back to the important things. Do we have some kind of a lead on this?”

“As it so happens? We do.” Mitsuhide set down some paperwork. “The accelerant used for the fire is actually quite similar to the products we found in the office Masamune cracked into. It appears that someone in our current investigations to the mob has not only figured out that Ieyasu is involved on our team, but is taking an interest in obscuring how his family plays into their organization.”

“So let me see if I understand.” Nobunaga twirled a pen idly over his desk. “The Mob not only was in possession of photos of the Tokugawa family, a pair of former CIA agents deceased over a decade and a half, but figures out that their son is also in connection with the CIA, and that he is investigating on his own into this?”

Masamune frowned deep, his blue eye glittering. “That sounds like a mole to me.”

The men fell silent.

“I’ll certainly be branching my investigations into that possibility,” Mitsuhide remarked lightly. “Don’t you worry about that. In the meantime, we need to move the Princess into protective custody.”

Ieyasu grimaced. How unfair was this? The poor woman would have to completely uproot her whole life, disrupt everything she knew--and it was all because of him. He clenched his fist tight. 

“Have some opinion on the matter?” Nobunaga cocked a brow at him. “You appear tense.”

“No opinion.” He replied brusquely. It wasn’t as if that train of thought mattered. But Mitsuhide kept staring, a knowing look emerging on those snaky lips. Of course Mitsuhide could tell what was wrong.

“How about this?” Mitsuhide suggested. “Our dearest Princess is likely a valuable resource in our investigations. She’s already played a part, after all. We could move her into Ieyasu’s custody.”

“Intriguing. Do tell.” Nobunaga folded his fingers together, resting his chin on the lattice of his knuckles. 

“As excellent as Mitsunari is at his job, it’s known that we’re stretched a touch thin. I already took the liberty of looking into her background, and she is squeaky clean. We could employ her as a civilian contractor for this particular case. It would free up our process and provide Ieyasu with a bit of needed interpersonal interaction.”

“I don’t need interpersonal interaction,” Ieyasu snapped. The idea of having someone in his personal space was almost offensive. Granted, he did owe her that much, and Mitsuhide was right--but still. “And I don’t need a random woman living in my house.”

“No? Not even with all the benefits of someone assisting you on your case? We all know of your aversion to working with Mitsunari.”

Damnit. Ieyasu ground his teeth tight together. He was up against a rock and a hard place, and everyone knew it. “Fine.”

Apparently she didn’t have much. Maybe she just hadn’t brought much. Either way, when he picked her up from her apartment, she only had two large suitcases and a confused expression.

“What’s with that face?” He snapped harder than he meant. “Come on. Is this all you have?”

“It’s all I need. I didn’t think it would be polite of me to load up your space with my things.”

Well that was downright considerate. He felt bad for being rude already, but an apology wouldn’t unstick from his throat. Opting for silence, he placed her things in the back seat and drove them both to his place. 

He had a three bedroom apartment and frankly no reason for all the space. If he were honest with himself, he’d gotten the extra rooms partially for if Masamune decided to come over and crash, partially for space for his own collection of books, partially for an office. Converting the spare room he’d meant for Masamune wasn’t a stretch at all--he’d just gotten some new sheets and towels. Quiet as a mouse, she slipped into the room and looked around. 

“Thank you so much,” she murmured. “I’m sorry to be in your way.”

What was he supposed to say to that? It was his fault she was there. Ieyasu reached for words and finally settled for, “It wasn’t that much trouble.”

Clearly he’d missed the mark. She didn’t look assuaged at all. Desperately trying to wriggle his way from the situation, Ieyasu added, “The office is free for use. Mitsuhide sent you some clearance. I’ll put the folders and files you can use in there, and the payment processing is going through. Questions?”

“No, not really. Thank you.”

She was quiet for certain. Ieyasu half-forgot she was there some days. All that ever reminded him was the soft hum of some song or another, the gentle clink of mugs in the morning and the scent of food cooking. As far as roommates went, she was courteous and clean. As for the rest? He wasn’t expecting much. How useful could someone entirely outside the CIA training regimen be? It wasn’t that she was a subpar researcher (not that he knew if she was or wasn’t), but he just didn’t have hope. 

But Mitsuhide kept presenting him with dossiers, so he kept bringing them to the office, stacking them with the others. She neatly cataloged and read and took notes, but Ieyasu wasn’t expecting much. 

And then one morning she walked into the kitchen as he was brewing coffee, holding a file in her hand. 

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Mmm?” Yes, he thought, but he just looked at her expectantly. 

“I’m sorry. It’s a little invasive.” But then she paused. “You were raised by an uncle, weren’t you?”

That was a weird question. He lowered the mug. “Yes?”

“I--” The Princess paused, thinking about her words before finally coming out with it. “Are you sure you’re related?”

Ieyasu stopped short, staring at her. “What kind of a question is that?”

“I know that sounds weird,” she rushed out. “I know it does. But I did a little looking into your familial background, and something isn’t adding up. So I went through your uncle’s history. He supposedly graduated from Princeton, same as your father, but--well, just take a look.”

She fished through the folder and produced several pictures, laying them out for him. That pang of familiarity rushed through him once more. It was him--that mystery man in the newspaper clipping from ‘93. Except now it was a smiling, younger man on the Princeton Yard, baseball bat slung over one shoulder and a slight caption underneath. I. Tokugawa, first baseman. 

“What the fuck,” he blurted out. The whole world tilted under his feet; he sat heavily on the floor, struggling to make sense of it. That was his uncle. That was his uncle. So much now swirled into focus. His ‘Uncle’s aversion to talking about his parents--how they didn’t have a resemblance--how he’d never met anyone else in the family--it wasn’t even his family. Who the fuck was that man? Who was that stranger?

The cold press of a cup into his hand jerked him from his reverie. The Princess stared into his eyes, concern etched in every line of her face. His first instinct was to withdraw. He didn’t need her pity. Familiar irritation rose hot in his throat; no doubt she saw him as a poor orphan, a pitiful thing abandoned by his own blood. But as his fingertips closed around the ice water, he came back to himself. She wasn’t pitying him. She was genuinely worried. 

“That’s a lot to process,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you, but I couldn’t think of any other way to tell you.”

For a single second, he appreciated the hell out of her. He’d undersold her on every respect, and here she was, shining in every conceivable way. What an ass he’d been to her. How was he supposed to right that? He gulped down the ice water, looking for anything else to do aside from answer. At last, he found his voice. “I told my Uncle--or whoever that was--about the photo in the paper I’d gotten. He’s the mole.”

She paused. “Are you certain? How did he figure out you were part of the CIA? The link between which specific place and the paper?”

“Not a clue.” He struggled to his feet, screwing down his resolve. “Not a damn clue. But I’m going to find out.”