#sorry for posting rage bait. sometimes it just grips you in the neck.

[angel-derangement]

genuinely explain the connection between you not wanting to do an exam and you being a girl in a way that doesn’t sound extremely sexist challenge. no one can do this challenge. and she has clearly been deleting the comments that are telling her that this is an insanely sexist thing to say. what the fuck is going on on the internet right now. fight this bullshit with everything you have I am not kidding.

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

What do YOU know about love?

Alright, here’s the second Song-fic! I’ve learned that some of these are going to be mini series things within the overall world. I’m thinking Steve’s will have two more parts and this one will definitely be a three parter. I already have songs for Tony, Loki, and Bucky around the corner so keep a look out for those! And the sequels to this and Steve’s. :)

Summary: Various Avenger x Reader one-shots with songs from musicals. In this one — Sam is in utter disbelief at the hope you have in your blind date, but in the end is it really his place to say otherwise? Sam X Reader (eventually), OC X Reader (<- that part ain’t gonna last long, just be patient!) (Song is “What do you know about love” from the Frozen Soundtrack.)

Warnings: Bit of fluff and teasing from our beloved Sammy boy, lotta arguing because you, the reader, are stubborn as shit, and there’s cussing. Sam really does love being right and proving you wrong.

Word Count: 4275 words

Please don’t post my work anywhere without my permission. :)

Never would he ever listen to Barton about working with a new partner. New partners required adjusting, patience, and Bucky had taught him that those particular traits were something he personally lacked in. That was okay. Eventually their rivalry developed a level of trust and respect that he could work with. Not every one was Steve Rogers.

But then Clint went and requested that he partner with someone else for a mission. Her. She made working with Bucky feel like a ride in the park. He’d gladly lose a thousand steering wheels to the Winter Soldier if it meant never having to go on another mission with this agent. She was stubborn, rarely listened to his instructions, hotheaded, so focused that she sometimes focused on the wrong thing — And oh yeah.

She was a fucking badass.

That detail just made it more infuriating because she had earned her arrogance. Back in the day, she would reprogram Tony’s suits for the hell of it and even helped with Rhodey’s design after the accident. She’d been on missions with Clint and Natasha. She’d been one of those to survive the snap and during that time she had spent time keeping Clint alive while he was blinded by his rage. Since Thanos was defeated, she’d spent most of her time on vacation in Wakanda, saying she’d earned it.

Until Clint called her in. She’d always answer Clint. They had some weird bond he couldn’t understand. Maybe it was some brother/sister thing? Because he really didn’t like the idea of it being more.  

Not that he was thinking about you in relationships or liking anyone or anything.

“Are you even listening, Wilson?”

He looked up, finally focusing on Y/N who had been rambling on about the mission. Oh yeah, that��s what had gotten him on that whole rant in his head. She was telling him about details of the mission that he already knew. Why did she have to treat him like an idiot? Why did she always insist on calling him by his last name? Why was he the only one she called by his last name? 

“I know the mission, Y/N. Had it memorized long before Clint asked you to help me out.”

You snorted, smirking as you tucked your gun into the strap on your thigh. “Well, sorry, but staring off into space with googley eyes doesn’t exactly scream confidence in regards to a mission.”

“I did not have,” he grimaced. “Googley eyes.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes, the corner of your lips tugged into that knowing smile that he really wanted to wipe off. What was it with the people he kept meeting and their arrogance? Why couldn’t he be working with Bucky? “Look, you don’t have to like working with me. Bucky will be back from Wakanda before you know it.”

“I never thought I’d see the day I missed working with that pain in the ass.”

You laughed and, though he hated to admit it, he liked that he got that reaction out of you. When you relaxed like that, your eyes sparkled. You seemed at ease and those lines on your face, holding years of stress, actually vanished. “No one ever expects to warm up to people like Clint and Bucky. We just kinda do.” 

He chuckled, adjusting the straps to his wings. “Ain’t that right?”

You watched as the hangar to the jet opened, parachute securely strapped to your back. You tightened your grip on the plane as your hair whipped around your face. He stepped just behind you, the building, their target, looking extremely small from their spot in the air. “Now, come on,” you told him, stepping forward. “I got a hot date tonight.” 

He tensed as you ran off the plane, practically doing a swan dive just to show off while he gaped at your form. You had a what?

—

When they finally breached the building, slipping inside undetected, the questions started. He tried telling himself he was looking out for you. Clint would want that and, speaking of, did the arrow-shooting Avenger even know about your date? Was a background check done? What if the guy was HYDRA? What if they were some villain taking advantage and trying to gain access to records that SHIELD hadn’t lost during Natasha’s public release? What if —

What if the guy wasn’t good enough for you?

“Are you seriously going to keep badgering me with these questions?” The clear annoyance in your voice was enough to make him smirk. He liked that he got under your skin. It meant he had some sort of effect on you. Albeit, a little less positive than he would like.

Make that a couple thousand steering wheels lost to the Winter Soldier.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he had to ask all these questions. You were attractive, he admitted that. Your H/C made your E/C stand out all the more, fathomless with emotions and secrets he wouldn’t mind spending a few decades figuring out. Your skillset and determination to finish a mission had earned his respect. It wasn’t just that you were attractive. You were interesting.

“Come on, humor me,” he said as you took quick strides to the computer. He glanced back at the door, playing lookout while you stole and wiped information from their target’s computers. It was a personal request from Fury.

“He’s not a stranger. My friend just wanted to set me up on a blind date. He promised the guy was hot and who was I to turn down a meal and a decent conversation?”

“You, an agent, are going on a blind date?” He smirked. That was rich. “So what’s his last name?”

You rolled your eyes, fingers lying along the keys before you plugged in your flash-drive. “None of your business.” You were struggling not to take the bait. After all, you two hadn’t known each other outside a few rocky missions and Thanos.

His smirk turned into a grin as he leaned against the wall. “That’s not a last name.”

Huffing, you spun around and placed a hand on your hip. That fire in your eyes was back. “You have opinions on my life and my relations, but let me tell you what —“

“Okay.” He shrugged. “Enlighten me.” You faltered, biting your tongue. How could you tell the Sam Wilson, the Falcon, an Avenger and  ex-partner of Captain America that you believed in fairytales? Mockingly, he asked, “Love is the one thing that has zero complications?”

Your frustration immediately molded itself into a glare. “And I can trust my gut.”

Sam outright laughed, holding up his hands. “Okay, you frighten me.”

You took a slow breath, trying to visibly relax as you turned your attention back to the computer. “Some people know their hearts the minute true love starts.”

“Some people read a lot of books,” he mocked, pushing himself off the wall. You seemed dead set on having faith that this date would turn out better than okay.

“I like books.” Running a hand through your hair, you added, “Some people simply know when true love says hello.” Wasn’t that what happened with Clint and his girl? Wasn’t that at least a possibility for you? Just some random bit of happiness? 

Sam walked towards you, amused because he never would have expected you to like fairytales. He never would have thought you hoped for that. Not with your line of work. “Some folks are taken in by curly locks and princely looks,” he reminded, tugging on a strand of your hair. 

You swatted his hand away, straightening and turning to face him. You wanted to make a dig, tell him something that would actually put him in his place. “He does have princely looks! We agree on that one.”

He snorted, twirling your hair around his finger as he asked, “Didn’t you say it was a blind date?”

Oops. You clenched your fist, not wanting to back down from his arrogance. “So I did a bit of digging. Doesn’t matter.”

“By the way,” he asked as you turned back to the computer. He leaned forward, his breath brushing the back of your neck and ear as he asked, “What color eyes does he have?”

You glanced up, gaze shifting just above the computer and to the wall of windows revealing the snowy mountains just outside. You jerked your elbow back, colliding with a couple ribs. He grunted, finally taking a step back as you smirked. One word. “Dreamy.”

“All I’m saying is when you go to climb a mountain, you don’t just jump to the top.” His voice was winded, weak as he tried to dull the ache in his gut. You had a pointy elbow.

“If it’s true love you can.”

Great. His partner wasn’t just hopeful. You were delusional. “There’s scalin’ and scramblin’ and too many steps for countin’. And the work doesn’t stop.” He was right. You both knew it. Eventually the honeymoon phase ended and everything in a relationship required work to last. You weren’t in denial about that detail, but with everything else in your life requiring so much work, it was nice to at least hope that a relationship might not be so chaotic.

Plus, you really just wanted to prove him wrong. “Maybe for you. Aren’t you the guy whose partners were and are the Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes? You have your own chaos and work to focus on. Stay out of mine.” 

“Love’s not an easy climb, Y/N. You have to take your time.” Was that concern you heard? From Wilson of all people?

“We get a whole life.” You unplugged the flash-drive, pocketing it before getting to work on completely wiping the system. “That’s the plan.”

“That’s not a plan!” He laughed, partially from disbelief and partially because he hoped you couldn’t be completely serious. You really couldn’t be, right? “Love’s not a thing you get. It’s work and tears and sweat.”

“So says a sweaty, smelly, Avenger…man.”

“Nice insult.” He smirked before asking, “What do you know about love?”

“What do you know about love,” you snapped right back. He wasn’t just under your skin. He was burying himself, making a new home in your nerves. “Have you even kissed a girl?” He opened his mouth to answer and you smirked, looking at him as you added, “I mean a human girl.”

“Ouch.”

“Done.” The computer glitched, flashing once before becoming a blank screen of nothing. Success. “What do you know about anything?”

“Anything?” Voices down the hall made you both look behind you. Someone was coming. Your lookout had gotten a little too distracted. 

“Come on.” He grabbed your arm, leading you to another door. Opening it, a gust of wind and flurry of snow collided with you both. Instantly your nose turned red and you sniffled. You hated the cold. “Anyone with half a brain would have worn some winter gear.” 

You glanced back, the sound of incoming footsteps making you tense. Pushing him out the door, you followed and slammed the door shut. In front of you was a long bridge of sorts, thin railing caging you in that did next to nothing to protect from the steep drop on either side. Perhaps a quarter of a mile to your left was a similar set up, the two sides connecting with towers and bridges that seemed to create a medieval sort of square. Just inside? Soldiers training. From this height? There was no way they could see you. Not with the snow. “Anyone with half a life would have one friend who’s not a super.”

“I do!” His voice was indignant, carried by the wind as you pushed him towards the opposite side. A tall tower that gave them the opportunity to scale down and get to safety. That was their destination. That was their escape. Looking over your shoulder, he pulled out his gun and aimed it behind as you aimed it across the way. Both of you had each others backs as you crept along. “Any fool who jumps headlong is gonna bang their head,” he told you, smirking at the idea of one of those idiots trying to attack them. 

But there was always one idiot.

From across the way, it seemed you had been spotted. The person had to have been enhanced. Both of you were in camouflage that would have kept you hidden from the naked eye. A siren flooded your ears, causing you to wince as you spotted them. You took your shot, your own abilities making it possible to see the snitch. 

One bullet.

You pulled the trigger, your silencer muting the weapon before hearing the familiar sound of blunt force against metal. You barely had time to register that your aim was perfect. The Enhanced fell. Looking at the door you two had escaped from, you knew they were trying to get through. The problem was, their alarms had sent a trigger to bolt the door shut. It was supposed to keep Sam and you within the confines of the room. 

But even the enemy’s plans could backfire.

“Any fool who doesn’t jump right now is gonna probably end up dead,” you warned, looking over the edge. Sam’s wings would be enough. At least to get to safety. 

“Are you serious? You’re asking me to fly in this weather?” he asked, reading your mind.

“Not asking. Telling.” You grabbed his arm, flipping him over the rail and away from those who saw you as a target.

“Agent!” His voice was angry, indignant. Fine, lecture you later. You knew what you were doing.  You leaned back against the railing, shooting the door twice. You heard metal slide, reinforcing the door because the computers thought you were attempting to escape from the inside. Sometimes tech simply couldn’t substitute for the real thing, the real eye. A person wouldn’t make that mistake.

“Time to go,” you murmur, leaning back and flipping over the icy metal. It was only a brief moment of cold air rushing against your skin before you felt a pair of hands wrap around you, catching you and pulling you into a warm chest. 

Sam. 

For once you were grateful for the soldier, knowing fully well that if it had been Bucky, your whole body would be freezing because of his arm. Natasha? You’d have to use a grappling hook. Same with Clint. Tony’s idea would be to have you contained in a metal suit of armor. No, Sam Wilson was, for once, a much better option than any of the other Avengers.

Well, maybe not for once.

“You okay there?” he asked, voice muffled against the wind. Or was it because your ear was pinned against his chest and his voice was more of a rumble than a muffle? He flew up and out, gaining distance. 

Icy needles seemed to poke at your skin from the rush of wind and you found yourself burying your face in his chest. Not seeking his warmth, but rather protection from the elements. “I’ve been better.”

He chuckled, but you felt it more so than actually hearing it. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“Told you to listen to me.” You looked up at him, cocky smirk in place. Oh, how he wished he could wipe that smirk off your face. “I know danger when I see it. Just like I know love when I see — Whoa!”

Sam grunted as something tore through his right wing. He jerked forward, arms slipping from around you as you fell from his grip. “Y/N!” His voice was lost in the wind as you fell, faster and faster as the wind flew around you, ramming into and knocking the wind out of you. There was no way you could avoid frostbite in conditions like this. Looking down, you squeezed your eyes shut and waited to collide with the icy rocks beneath you.

But it never came.

Instead Sam dove, flying underneath and catching you bridal style. The wind was knocked out of both of you as the force of the collision knocked you two into the snow. Sam broke your fall. Groaning, he shifted underneath you, your stomach stretched across his and his wings buried in the fluffy abomination that was the cause of your chill. Yup, snow sucked. “That’s not quite how I thought we’d end up,” you murmured, arrogance gone as you rolled off of him.

He chuckled, running a hand over his face and tearing his goggles off. “You’ve got to think things through in life.” He blinked wearily and it was then you saw how the snow had caused a sort of burn around the goggles. It must have been from the reflection coming from the sun. Everything, but the portion of his eyes that had been protected was a few shades darker. “And love.”

You laughed, moving to sit up. That was fair. You deserved that. “Touche.” You turned to face him, helping dig his wings out of the snow before you were actually able to pull him up. “Think you can fly?”

Glancing at the wings, the look on his face showed he wasn’t entirely sure. Whether you two should risk it or call for backup, he didn’t know. If they took out one wing, it was safe to say that you were stranded. After all, he couldn’t carry the both of you on a barely functioning jet pack. But you didn’t want him to feel guilty. He did his best and it was your reckless idea that had gotten his suit damaged. And he went out of his way to… 

You shook your head, standing up. He followed suit and you looked around. He had managed to fly you out a couple miles before they clipped his wings. The building, similar to something like a castle, loomed through the mountains and it wouldn’t be too long before they sent scouts out looking for you. “Come on. We need to find shelter.”

“In this weather?”

“I don’t think we have a choice.”

“What about your date?”

You smiled. “I’ll reschedule.”

Walking through the snow wasn’t easy. You two had spent years in New York City, but the snow there wasn’t exactly thigh high and in the middle of a mountain. It was different, a terrain that neither of you had been entirely accustomed to. If it weren’t for Tony’s updating his jet pack, you were pretty sure it would have frozen in the temperature. Even beyond the grave that ridiculous man managed to make a difference. He was the reason you and Sam weren’t prisoners. Yet.

“Hey, we’ll get out of here,” he told you, as if hearing your thoughts.

“I know. Just a matter of actually getting help here in time.”

He followed a couple steps behind, knowing better than to argue with the concerns roaming around in your head. It was something you were positive Clint had warned him about. Sam was too much of an infuriating chatterbox to just let you deal. Your concerns were what led to solutions. You thought of possible outcomes, the good and the bad, and eventually it led to a plan that had little margin for error. All you had to do was think, allow yourself to worry and be concerned, and the plan would lay itself out for you.

After a couple hours of roaming the mountainside, you finally found a cave. Some place to rest and hopefully send out a signal for the agent flying your ride to come find you. Sam seemed to have the same idea because he ran ahead, clicking the straps of his jetpack as the two of you stepped into the damp dwelling. It was dark, a stark contrast to the overwhelming white behind you two, but neither of you complained. It allowed your eyes to rest, readjust and simple take a much needed break. Snow was too blinding, too overwhelming. Slipping the heavy contraption off his back, he  set it against the wall while you shook the snow out of your hair and off your arms. Some of it had taken the time to ice over and the same went for Sam. Time had to be taken to warm both of you up or you wouldn’t last the night.

Kicking the excess snow off your shoes and knocking them against the rocky wall, you let out a small huff. You needed food, water, and a fire. This was supposed to be an in and out mission. Not something that required such necessities. Looking at the opening of the cavern, your haven of the night, you wondered how the both of you could warm up without a fire. You didn’t need the smoke.

“I’d like to point out that we’ve come a good long way here,” he told you, cutting through the wind and your thoughts. He was right. You two barely knew each other and yet here you had infiltrated the enemy with ease, not fully aware of each other’s weaknesses and strengths, survived the possibility of death, and had managed to find somewhere to at least rest for the time being.

You chuckled, telling him, “And you’re…wow, you’re really strong. It surprised me that you caught me both times.”

Feigning surprise, he clutched his chest. “And see? You’re nice.” When you rolled your eyes, he smiled. Same old Wilson. No, you caught yourself, corrected yourself, same old Sam. “That jump was really brave,” he added, surprising you. He was actually complimenting your suicidal dive? 

Joking, you told him, “Your catch was quite a save.”

“Oh, I know.” Again, he was as cocky as you. Silence fell as you two stood back to back, trying to figure out your next step. He shook the snow off his boots and shoulders, wanting to keep talking. It wasn’t an argument and it wasn’t a mission. It was something else and it felt easy. “You’ve got some guts.”

You looked surprised. Another compliment? Did the snow get to his head? Did he have a concussion or something? “Thanks. You’ve got some…” What could she tell him? Lamely, she finally muttered, “Brains.”

He laughed, nodding because he understood it was weird for you. It was just as weird for him. No one liked learning about their partner on the go. “Come on, we’re soaked. Get out of the jacket before you freeze to death.” You didn’t really get to argue because he was already following his own instructions. As he did, he took long, slow strides to the back of the cave. The farther from the wind, the warmer it got. It was never actually anything other than cold, but it was better than the chilling wind that kissed the entrance of the cave over and over again.

So, you decided he might have a good idea this time around. Taking off the jacket, you unzipped one of the many pockets it had and pulled out a small blanket. Now that it wasn’t in a confined space, the nanotech within the fabric allowed the creation to expand. It wasn’t thick, but it was something dry and usable. He was already sitting at the very back, leaning against the wall. You crouched next to him and he instinctively raised a hand, wrapping it around your shoulders as you laid the material over four shivering legs. Nothing about this screamed sexual or romantic, but rather a need to rely on each other’s body warmth. You curled into his side, resting your head on his chest, just above his heartbeat while he absentmindedly traced your arm. Goosebumps followed in his wake, but you weren’t cold. It was actually relaxing instead. 

“With miles and miles to go,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of your head. You could hear it in his voice, he was tired. He was trying to find the words before sleep took over. “I guess it’s nice to know —“

You seemed to read his mind, voicing with him, “That I can trust you.”

He chuckled, liking that you understood him so well. “Though the question still remains.” Oh, here it comes. Another insult cooked up in that wild imagination of his. “What do you know about love?” You laughed, shaking your head as he shifted so that his cheek was resting on your head. It was more comfortable for both of you. Like your elbow, his chin was rather bony. “Just be careful on that date.”

You snorted, crossing your legs over his as your eyes slowly closed. “Have a little faith, hm?” Voice soft, barely above a murmur, “At least we know one thing.”

He nudged you with the arm that seemed to provide a blanket for your shoulders. “What’s that?” Whether he was actually able to listen or not, you didn’t know. He sounded more asleep than awake, but interest still peaked his voice. 

“This trip was interesting.”

Silence. No chuckle, no nudge, and you found yourself worried. That is, until you heard the snore that rumbled through his chest and out his nose. Biting your lip to stifle a laugh, you shook your head. It was definitely interesting indeed. Leaning back, you allowed your aching limbs to relax against him. Both of you needed to sleep and the confines of the cave proved safe enough. When you woke again, then you’d focus on help, but for know? Just one thought drifted through your mind as sleep tugged at your subconscious. 

What do you really know about love?

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Hey All! This segment happens in the Drums of Autumn story line and definitely contains spoilers to that story. Sometimes I feel like knowing what happens before it happens (aka SPOILERS) is part of what makes Outlander great, because even when you think you know what happens, you often don’t know why or how it happens and that context/information makes it new again once you read/watch it. That being said, I’m going to post this one below the cut. BUT CLICK IT YOU ARE NOT GOING TO WANT TO MISS THE FIRST FRASER SISTERS FALL OUT.

Mid November, 1769 Fraser’s Ridge, North Carolina, USA Brianna.

Julia whooshed past me in a speeding mass of skirts and curls as I stepped out of the stable. She had been in a funk all week and this was the last straw. I grabbed a fistful of brown homespun and pulled.

“Nice try,” I said as she came to a sudden and complete halt.

If looks could kill, I’d be stone cold dead and in the morgue. I watched as her face and neck slowly turned red. In fact, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see smoke coming out of her ears.

“Lemme go,” she said thru clenched teeth.

I took a firmer grip of her skirt, ready to take anything she dished out. “No. What’s wrong?”

She tried to pry my fingers apart, “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“And I’m the King George the third! You’re avoiding me.” I tried again, growing frustrated.

“So?” she asked, one brow raised in defiance.

“So, something’s bothering you. What is it?”

She tilted her head to shout the six inches up at me, “Nothing!”

“Nothing? You haven’t spoken four words to anybody in two days and nothing is wrong?” This was going nowhere fast.

Julia stomped her foot, “Leave me alone!”

“I won’t!” I shouted back, resisting the urge to stamp my own foot. “Something is bothering you and you’re not going anywhere until you tell me what it is!”

“Then we’ll be standing here forever because I’m not telling you.” She huffed.

It was quickly becoming obvious that she meant exactly that. At this rate, we would be here forever. I wracked my brain to think of something that I could do to get her talking.

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’ll…I’ll…” I faltered, coming up threat-less.

The brow was back up, complete with a smug smile. “You’ll what? You’ve got nothing on me.”

“I’m bigger than you.” I retorted, glad to finally think of something.

“What are you going to do? Sit on me?” She taunted.

Not a bad idea.

In a sudden stroke of genius, I remembered the watering trough standing right behind Julia. A quick glance told me it was nearly full. If dousing an angry person with cold water could get them to calm down, what would it do to a calm person? Definitely make them angry and angry people talk. Maybe I could make her slip up, say something she wouldn’t when she was calm. Not that the icy stare she was giving me could be considered calm.

Deciding to act while I still had the chance, I awkwardly picked her up and unceremoniously dropped her into the water.

It worked.

Julia screamed with rage and water flew everywhere as she exited the murky trough. I quickly backed up, knowing I could escape her reach if I wanted to. But did I? Should I let her catch me or not? Deciding on flight rather than fight, I readied myself to flee in any direction. The first move was hers.

Julia shoved the hair out of her eyes and stood glaring at me.  A tangled mess of English, French, and Gaelic shot out of her mouth as fast as her lips could form the words. I let her spew until she seemed to come up for air.

“I have no idea what you just said.” I commented dryly.

Claire.

An angry squeal of teenage rage interrupted the conversation I was having with Jamie. Giving him a questioning look, I stepped into the doorway of the cabin just in time to see Julia climb out of the animal’s water barrel.

“What’s she saying?” I asked, unable to translate Julia’s trilingual tirade.

Jamie chuckled, “I dinna think I’ll be telling, Sassenach.”

“Afraid of your daughter’s wrath?” I couldn’t help but smile myself as Julia charged forward and started to chase Brianna around the yard.

“Which one?” He grinned as Brianna taunted Julia with her handkerchief, earning her a Gaelic reprimand.

“I wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of either, to be honest. They’re just like you, you know, stubborn as the day is long.”

“Oh, aye?” He crossed his arms in mock disapproval. “And they’ve your way with words, to be sure, Sassenach. Julia jest told Brianna in perfect Gaelic, might I add, exactly what she could do wi’ that wee cloth of hers.”

I shook my head in amusement, “I wonder what she said to get herself a bath in the horse trough.”

“More likely what she didna say.”

It was my turn for the eyebrow lift.

“Ye ken she’s no’ one to spill her thoughts jest by being asked, Sassenach.”

“No,” I grumbled, having tried that method without success a few too many times myself. “She isn’t. But do you don’t really think Bree dumped her in there just to get her talking, do you?”

“Aye, I’ve thought about doing it myself a time or two,” he said, almost proud.

“You wouldn’t!” I elbowed him.

With a grin of satisfaction, he patted my arm. “Now that I ken it works, Sassenach? Aye, I jest might, if need be.”

Brianna.

“I’m not stupid!” Julia bellowed

“Never said you were,” I said, ducking around the corner of mama’s herb shed.

“Nobody thinks I know what’s going on,” she continued as soon as she could see me again, “but I do! I know what’s going on, Bree!”

This was working splendidly. I hoped that if I stayed just barely outside her reach and kept taunting, she’d keep talking.

“Do you?” I baited, testing my luck. We were circling each other now, almost as if we were determining who was the alpha sister.

“You can’t just pretend that I’m not here, that I don’t exist. I do exist!” she shouted as she threw herself at me.

Neatly evading her attack, I laughed. Not at her, but at the irony of her chasing me while exclaiming that she wasn’t imaginary.

“I’m not going to break when something bad happens!” She got close enough to get in a good shove, making me stumble slightly. I regained my balance and darted around a tree at the edge of the clearing. “Mim and Da think I’m this fragile butterfly or something, but I’m not. I can handle the truth! I’m not a kid anymore! I don’t need sugar-coated facts and Santa Clause!”

I had to admit she had a point there. I’d watched them baby her on several occasions. While it was well within the realm of normal parent behavior, Julia was not a normal preteen. She had the wisdom of a grandmother yet still gave off an aura of fragile innocence.

“What happens if you can’t go back and you’re stuck here like me? What happens then?” Her voice cracked with emotion as she came to a sudden halt in her pursuit.

“I know how it works, Bree! I’ve been with Mim on house calls; I’ve been there when babies were born, its no walk in the park! You’re going to be in pain and I won’t be able to do anything to stop it! What happens when something goes wrong and Mim can’t save you because we’re in the age of the dinosaurs?”

Julia reached down and hurled a pine cone at my head with remarkable accuracy. I winced as it bounced off and landed with a thud behind me.

“What if you die, Bree? What happens to me? You’re the only person who knows what its like to live your whole life and then find out its all one big lie! That you aren’t who your parents say you are, and, oh, guess what, they’re not really you’re parents! Surprise, you’re adopted! Not only that, but your birth parents are living in a completely different century!

So now you’ll go back to the future or die and I’ll be stuck here singing Yankee Doodle and no one will tell me anything and I won’t even get to say goodbye!”

I stood staring at Julia for a long time, just trying to absorb everything she had just said. She stared right back at me, arms crossed, ready for a fight.

But I didn’t want to fight; I wanted this to end.

“You really think I would just up and leave and not tell you?” I said, feeling like she had punched me hard in the gut.

She threw up her arms in exasperation, “Like you told me you were pregnant?”

“That’s different,” I defended. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground with Julia sitting squarely on top of me.

“How? How is it different? Tell me,” she demanded, shaking me. “Its always the same! You leave the hard conversations for someone else to deal with, but no one wants to have them, so they never happen! And then once again, I’m left in the dark trying to figure out which way is up!”

“Well,” I groaned, “currently, you’re up and I’m down.”

“Gee, thanks, sis,” she said sarcastically and socked me in the ribs.

“I thought Mama had told you.” I wheezed as I tried to breathe with a soaking wet little sister on my abdomen.

A small, Gaelic sound of negation escaped Julia’s lips, “She didn’t.”

I wasn’t sure if the dampness on my face was from tears, hers or my own, or her dripping hair. “I should have told you.”

“Yes. You should have.” Her voice was low. The fire and gleaming spark had gone from her eyes and was replaced with a hollow look of pain.

Suddenly, she looked a great deal older than fourteen.

I put my hand on her arm and squeezed, “I’m sorry. Forgive me?”