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ilovemesomekillianjones · 4 years ago

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Navigating the Storm (1/4)

Summary: Emma Swan navigates the aftermath of Neverland by trying to deal with everything the way she always has, by locking all her feelings away. Between having to share Henry with two other people now, her parents confession in the Echo Caves, her parents pushing her towards a man she has no interest in, and feelings for another man that she never expected to feel, Emma is at the end of her rope. *Post Neverland - No Curse*

Author’s Note: Thank you to my friend @hollyethecurious for beta reading this story for me! I have had this written for about three months now and have finally put on the finishing touches. This is part 1 of 4 - I will post a chapter a week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Rated M 4.5K ao3 ffnet Under the cut, promise

It had been exactly two weeks since they’d stepped foot back in Storybrooke, since bringing Henry home safely from Neverland. Two weeks in which Emma Swan had had very few chances to just be, to just breathe. Each breath felt like it was choked by the need to scream or cry. Two weeks of restless nights and emotionally fraught days; parents urging her toward a man she did not want, her mom wanting a new baby, another mom wanting her baby, not that she held anything against Regina. Henry was as much Regina’s as he was hers, she knew that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t weigh heavily on her soul. And of course there was Neal, who had been an ever-present thorn in her side during the last two weeks.

Emma wanted to blame everything on Neal, it would be so easy, but she couldn’t do that, there was rarely only one person to blame. She had to take some responsibility, too. He’d been bugging her about giving their relationship another shot, about putting aside the past to make a better future for Henry. Each time, Neal’s words would hit the solid mass of her thick skull and bounce right off, while simultaneously invoking a silent wrath in her being. What the everloving fuck was he thinking? How could the two of them being together be good for anyone? It didn’t help that her parents both still thought Neal was a saint. It didn’t help that each time they unwittingly made little comments about her giving him a chance, it felt like a little more of the world weighed on her shoulders.

Each morning she dragged her feet getting out of bed, if only to delay dealing with the barrage of shit she didn’t want to hear about or deal with. Of course, if she was honest with herself, she’d admit the reason she was feeling like this was because she was effectively not dealing with any of it. But why choose now to be honest with herself, she’d been content to ignore every other issue she’d dodged in life, abandonment, intimacy, self-worth, why stop now?

Emma hadn’t felt emotional sadness like this since the days between finding out she was pregnant in prison and knowing she would have to give her baby up. Her body felt heavy, her mind felt clouded, and her soul was just… sad, there wasn’t a better word for it. She hated this feeling, and when the sadness became too overwhelming, anger often surged in, and no one needed an angry Emma Swan around. She loved her family and her family-by-extension, but she needed a break.

As she walked toward Granny’s at a molasses slow pace, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, head down, where she was meeting her parents, Neal, Henry, and Regina for a late dinner, her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to inhale air past the lump forming in her throat. A deep anger rose within her, mostly because she was pissed at herself for wanting to cry. She didn’t know how to make everyone understand what she was feeling and why she was feeling it. No one had ever taught her the healing power of communication, while growing up in foster care. As the anger finally defeated the desire to cry, Emma Swan did what all responsible folks do and locked that shit up, deep inside where no one would see it.

“I saved you a seat, Ems,” Neal offered as she entered the diner.

“Yeah, look mom, right between me and dad,” Henry piped in.

Emma glanced at the six of them, one seat between Neal and Henry, no doubt by design and one seat at the other end of the table by her dad. “Uh, I have to discuss a case with David,” she lied. And boy did that make her feel like Shittiest Mom of the Year. “I’ll come back in a few.”

Taking off her jacket, she sat next to her dad and began speaking with him about the new project they were working on to make Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department digital. There was truly nothing she needed to discuss with him right this instant, but she could not handle another manipulation by Neal, especially in front of Henry, about getting back together.

“Why don’t you go sit with Henry and Neal,” David whispered, “we can discuss this tomorrow at work.”

Sucking in a deep breath to tamp down the edge of anger that started to creep up on her, Emma realized there was a silver lining here. At least he had whispered.

“I’m perfectly fine where I’m at,” she quietly replied, affecting a sense of calm she didn’t really feel.

“Oh, honey,” her mother began in what was not a whisper, “go sit down there, let me get a picture of the three of you.”

And just like that, there was another brick piled on her shoulders. She understood that her parents really did want what was best for her. Why couldn’t they just magically understand that Neal wasn’t it? She could hear Neal trying to coax her over and her head started to spin. She really did need that break.

As she choked on the sob that wanted to escape, the bell above the entrance rang, and if she’d never experienced what being saved by the bell meant, she was right now. “Hook,” she murmured, just a little more breathlessly than strictly necessary.

“What?” Snow asked.

“Hook’s here,” Emma said. “Why don’t you join us for dinner, Hook?” Emma called over to him. He was just the buffer she needed tonight. She didn’t miss the intrigue in his eyes, which he quickly masked with a conciliatory smile that didn’t quite reach those pretty blue eyes.

“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t wish to intrude,” he answered graciously.

“You’re not intruding, we were just sitting down to eat a meal. Everyone has to eat.”

“Well, if all of their Royal Highnesses don’t mind,” he acquiesced.

“Everyone scoot one seat to their right,” Emma instructed, she didn’t expect him to sit next to Neal, not with the current state of affairs.

Snow stared at her daughter wide eyed and Emma just stared back through narrowed eyes, hoping that her expression conveyed, he did save your husband’s life.

“Ems, I thought you were going to sit with me and Henry,” Neal asked, failing to mask the irritation in his voice.

And I thought I was meeting you with the bag of watches, not the cops, Emma thought bitterly. If Neal was going to use Henry against her, he was going to be sorry. She wasn’t going to stoop to the level of using a child to get what she wanted, but she was also not going to be bulldozed by her ex.

“That’s okay, dad,” Henry intervened. “Mom can sit with her friend. How’s the fastest ship in all the realms, Captain?”

Emma beamed at her son’s cherubic nature. He was truly good. He was innocent and perfect, and she felt like she might cry again as her young son saved her again.

“She’s jolly good, m’boy,” Hook answered merrily, obviously tickled that Henry had asked about his pride and joy. Or maybe it was simply because this boy treated him with common courtesy. Hook had vowed to himself to turn over a new leaf when he’d turned his ship around to help Emma save her son, and although he knew that, most people still treated him like the pirate they’d known him to be.

“You okay, Swan?” Hook asked her quietly, as conversation started up around the table.

“I- yeah,” she said, slapping on a smile, and even though it was an effort to smile, she found that she wanted to smile for Hook. She also found that he knew she was lying.

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’ve a never ending supply of rum aboard the Jolly.”

“I might just take you up on that,” she laughed. And it felt really good to laugh.

“I thought you said you’d back off,” Neal seethed as he walked over to their end of the table.

Emma looked between the two men before quietly sounding a warning. “We do not need another pissing contest here,” she hissed.

“Contest,” Neal fumed. “There is no contest, I’m Henry’s father, he’s a home-wrecking pirate.”

Emma’s head began to swim again as she listened to Neal berate Hook, as she read between the lines of what he’d said. He felt like he deserved her because they bore a child together.

“Is everything okay?” David asked.

Emma closed her eyes and weakly shook her head no. She would lose it if her parents got involved.

“Here Neal, why don’t you take my seat,” Snow offered.

Emma shook her head no again, but apparently no one was looking at her.

“Haven’t you destroyed enough lives?” Neal asked.

Emma’s eyes shot open and she’d hit just about her limit. Her throat felt like it was almost swollen shut as that urge to scream or cry or both, came raging back.

“Haven’t you done enough damage, Hook?”

“Bae-” Hook started

“Stop calling me that!”

“Neal,” Hook corrected, “it is not my intent to come between you and Emma. I was merely accepting the invitation she offered. I did say I would back off, I didn’t say I would ignore Emma if she requested my company.”

“Back off from what?” Emma asked, feeling a little annoyed that they’d been discussing her like a - she didn’t know what.

“Swan, I merely told Ba- Neal that I would not interfere if you two decided to pursue a chance at a family with Henry.”

“I think that is very noble, Hook,” Snow inserted.

“Not now, mom.”

“Well Emma, it’s only fair that you two have a real shot, now that you’ve been reunited,” Snow argued, “and I was just saying that I think it’s noble of Hook to put his feelings for you aside to give you and Neal that chance.”

That was it, that was her limit. Chances? Reunited? FAIR? The lights flickered twice before pitching Granny’s in darkness. Emma stood up and placed both her palms flat down on the table.

“Regina,” Emma said in a ragged voice, barely containing her emotions, which she desperately wanted to contain with Henry present. “Take him home, please.”

“Come on, Henry. I have lasagna at home,” Regina said, without having to be asked again. She could feel the energy of the situation sizzling about, and she knew only too well the magical properties of raw emotion. Of course Henry instinctively knew to listen as well. “Granny’s is closed,” Regina announced, “Mayor’s orders.”

The several patrons around had the good sense to slap some money on the counter and head out.

“I love you, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Henry said as he and Regina readied to leave. He came to her end of the table and gave her a hug.

“I love you too, kid,” Emma responded as she ruffled Henry’s hair, and the lights flickered back to life.

Once Henry and Regina were gone, Emma eyed her parents. She tried breathing in and out slowly. She didn’t want to fight, she didn’t want to hurt them, she didn’t want to cry. But something had to give.

“Mom, Dad,” she whispered, as she knew her voice would crack if she attempted to speak in a normal voice. “I’ve been having a really-” a broken sob overtook Emma, halting her words. Her face crumbled, tears filling her eyes and falling to her cheeks, as the full weight of what she’d been dealing with overwhelmed her.

“Oh honey,” Snow cried as she stood up to try and comfort her daughter.

Emma held up a hand and shook her head no at her mother. “Please… don’t. I have to do this.”

Snow’s face fell as her daughter rejected her, but she sat back down to comply with her daughter’s wishes.

“Go on, Emma,” her father said quietly.

Nodding her head, she took another big breath. “I’ve been having a really hard time since we came back from Neverland. I’m happy that you want a new baby, I am, but it also hurt to hear that you wanted to have a chance to experience everything we never got to, and I know that’s not your fault, but it still hurts. And I am happy that Henry has Regina, because no matter what, she really does love him. But it hurts to have to share him with her when we have a third person to share him with now, it’s less time, when I’ve already missed so much.”

“It wouldn’t be if you spent time with me and Henry,” Neal muttered.

“Goddammit, Neal!” Emma yelled, pounding her fists on the table. “You have got to stop that. I’m struggling with my parents wanting a new baby and I am struggling with sharing Henry with you. But my biggest problem, the one that eats away at me every day, is you! I can’t stand the way you try to manipulate me in front of my son, making it seem like I’m the only reason we can’t be a family. You showed up to Storybrooke with a fiancée, don’t act like you came back here to win me over or some other noble bullshit. And I can’t stand that my parents think you should be my happy ending.” Another sob choked her words and she paused to catch her breath. “You will never be my happy ending,” she yelled before leaving the diner.

Emma jogged down the walkway, unsure of where to go, but knowing she couldn’t remain in there one second longer. She didn’t want to see the looks she’d put on her parents’ faces anymore and she didn’t want to deal with Neal. After an hour of wandering, she found herself down by the icy cold shoreline. She sat down in the freezing sand and folded her arms around her legs. Resting her chin on her knees, she lamented the fool she’d made of herself and the mess she’d made of things.

“Awfully cold for camping at the beach,” Hook said.

Emma jumped so hard, it hurt her butt when she landed back in the unforgiving sand. “Jesus Christ, you scared me. Are you following me?”

“Sorry, love,” Hook apologized, holding hand and hook in the air as he always did when she went on the offensive. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. And no, I am not following you. I was up on the deck of my ship and saw your golden hair in the moonlight; wanted to make sure you don’t catch your death out here.” He handed her a blanket.

“Thank you,” she said through chattering teeth, only now realizing just how cold it was. “You probably need to invest in some warmer clothes if you’re planning to stay in Storybrooke for the winter.”

“Is that an invitation, Swan?”

She just rolled her eyes as she held her hand out to him to help her up.

“Don’t worry your heart, I am plenty hot,” he flirted, extending his hand and pulling her up.

“You are plenty full of yourself is what you are,” she laughed. “I don’t know why I ended up here. I just… I cannot go home. I should probably see if Granny has a room available. Paying her some rent is the least I could do after clearing out her customers.”

Hook scratched behind his ear, his nervous habit that always made Emma chuckle inside, because how did The Captain Hook have a nervous tic?

“You could stay on the Jolly, if you like. You know, instead of walking back to Granny’s.”

“Is that an invitation, Hook?” Emma countered.

“Actually, it is,” he said as he bowed deeply, holding his right hand out in the direction of his ship.

She decided it was probably her best option for the night. She didn’t want to see her parents at the loft, she definitely didn’t want to risk running into Neal at Granny’s, and she was far too proud to ask Regina for a crash pad. So, she followed the direction of Hook’s extended hand and headed to the Jolly.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as they headed down into the Captain’s Quarters. It was only slightly warmer below deck, and she wondered how cold he got at night.

“Perhaps a little gratitude is in order,” he smirked, pointing his finger to his lips as he had done several weeks ago.

Emma didn’t even have to think about it this time. She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and backing him up against the wall. She kissed him just as passionately as she had back on that Hell Island, but this time, she had no intent of limiting their activities to just a kiss.

“Swan,” he moaned against her mouth.

“Hmmm?” she hummed as she continued to learn his mouth and his tongue which had come out to play.

She loved the way his hook felt pressed at her back and the way his hand cupped her cheek before sliding into her hair. She took the opportunity to quickly run her hands up through his chest hair before shifting them up under his jacket to divest him of it.

“Swan, stop,” he whispered between kisses. “Stop, darling.”

Emma immediately pulled back. Like, what? “What’s the problem,” she asked defensively.

“I apologize lass, it was a poorly timed Neverland reference.”

“A… joke?” Emma’s head began spinning again. One million thoughts ran through her head as her brows furrowed and panic hit her eyes. Her mouth turned down as a strangle hold settled over her... rejection. She’d had one melt down and now she was damaged goods in his eyes. A one time thing, she’d said, and he was the one who was going to enforce it. “I have to go,” she muttered, mind already on auto pilot to the lovely land of orphans-aren’t-worthy-of-love.

Killian quickly blocked her path to the door. Bad move.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she seethed. “You don- don’t want me...” Oh fuck, she panicked, the tears were going to start again. When would this roller coaster come crashing to a halt? Emma Swan, Dumpster Fire, she mused, it had a truer ring than Emma Swan, Savior.

“Don’t you tell me what I want or do not want,” Hook reprimanded. “I want you, I have wanted you, far more and far longer than you know.” He stepped into her space and lifted her chin with his hook, until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Make no mistake about that, love.” A fire burned between them, something palpable, and only by sheer force of will, was Hook denying himself the pleasure she’d been looking to bring him mere moments before.

Truth. Truth is what she saw in Hook’s eyes. “Then why are you pushing me away,” she asked, lips still quivering with the threat of tears.

“Because I won’t exploit your emotions, that would be the pinnacle of bad form.”

“What?”

Hook took her hand and led her to sit on his bed. “Emma, you just confessed major hurt and heartache to your parents. You obviously have unresolved issues with Bae, and you’re harboring a sadness that is ruling your emotions. Despite Neverland and everything that happened there, I have never seen you this close to the brink of despair.”

A tear slipped down as Hook brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Look at me, Emma.”

She sniffled, but complied, as she realized he was not going to continue until she looked at him.

“You are strong, and you will get through this, but a quick romp in the sack is not part of the solution. I cannot in good conscience let you lead us down a path that you will undoubtedly regret. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

“If I don’t get to tell you what you do or don’t want, then you shouldn’t get to tell me what I will or won’t regret,” she huffed.

Hook smiled at the fire that lit his Swan, and continued on, “I did promise Bae that I would back off, I thought it was best for Henry, if it was what you wanted as well.”

“I don’t want that,” Emma interrupted.

“I know you don’t want that. Tonight made that clear,” he assured her. “But tonight also showed that you have some things to work out. I am here for you, Emma, and no matter what our future holds, I will stand by your side and help you traverse all of it. But where matters of our hearts are concerned, I cannot be your port in this storm if you only plan to pack up and set sail when the tide calms and the tempest parts.”

Tears surged forth once more as she lunged at Hook again, but this time just to throw herself into his embrace. She didn’t even know why she was crying, but she knew that this, him, everything he’d just said, this was what she needed. Someone to stand by her side, someone to accept her for her, someone who knew that she had shitty baggage but was okay with it and wanted to help her lighten her load. “I just want to forget, I want five minutes where I don’t feel like everything is closing around me like a vice.”

“That’s it lass, everything is going to be okay, I promise,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. “Let it out, crying can be quite cathartic when you let it.”

Emma cried a little harder as she listened to his soothing voice. She sat up many moments later when she’d cried herself out. Wiping away her tears, she looked at the man next to her. “How did you get so wise,” she asked in a nasally, I’ve-been-crying voice.

“How’s that?”

“About crying being cathartic.”

“Ah,” Hook chuckled as he blushed a bit. “You pick up some things as the centuries pass. I may have learned that sometimes letting out pent up emotion is better than harbouring it until it blows up.”

“Thank you, Killian,” she whispered, before leaning in and tenderly placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You called me Killian.”

The bit of awe in his eyes made Emma giggle. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Aye, but you know what I mean, love,” he chuckled with her.

She laughed again until she was caught in a yawn that wracked her whole body.

“Let me get you something to sleep in.” Hook went to an antique armoire and pulled out one of his shirts and a pair of long johns. “These should keep you warm.” After handing them to her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll let you get some rest, no doubt your day has been taxing.” Then he turned to leave.

Before he could make it to the door, Emma reached out to grab his hook. He turned around to see what she needed.

“Will you stay with me?”

His eyes pleaded with her not to tempt him into breaking his word. His good form.

“I promise I won’t jump your bones, sailor.” She rolled her eyes playfully, but then she glanced away and folded her arms around herself, a vulnerability encasing her whole form before she spoke again. “I just want you to hold me,” she whispered.

His chest ached for her, for this tender side of Emma Swan that he’d never been privy to. Why would he ever deny her something as simple as holding her? “Of course, love.” After changing into something passable for sleep attire, he joined Emma in his bed.

“I know this is going to sound sappy, but today, at Granny’s, when you showed up, I was on the brink of losing my mind,” Emma confessed as she lay snuggled against his side, his right arm wrapped around her, making her feel safe. “But when I saw you, I felt like… like I might be able to get through it, like everything would be okay, if only you were with me. That’s why I asked you to stay.”

“And did it help, having me there?”

“All I know is, even though I didn’t say everything I need to get off my chest, I did get through part of it, and I am glad you were there.”

“Happy to oblige, darling.” Hook craned his neck forward to place a kiss to the crown of her head.

Pulling the blankets up to her neck, Emma shivered. “Give me your other arm, you’re warmer than these blankets.”

“My hook,” he said, holding up the shiny version of his moniker. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally harm you.”

“Then take it off,” Emma responded as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“I don’t think so, love.”

“Why not?” she asked, sitting up to look at him.

Hook took advantage of his freed arm and scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s not a sight I wish you to see, it’s actually quite revolting.”

“I don’t believe for a second that any part of Killian Jones is revolting,” Emma said, gently pulling his left arm toward her.

“Swan,” he groaned.

“Killian, you saw me at my most vulnerable today, and you didn’t run for the hills. I won’t either,” she promised softly. “I don’t think you understand that what I like about you is this,” she placed her hand over his heart, “the man you are.”

Killian placed his hand over hers, where it rested on his chest and brought it to his brace. “Okay then, go ahead.”

Carefully unfastening the buckles, Emma pulled the entire brace away from his arm. She held his forearm in one hand and ran the fingers of her other hand over the scarred flesh, inspecting the damage. Although Hook was right, it wasn’t a “pretty” sight, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have had her believe. “Does it still hurt?”

“Aye, sometimes.”

She delicately massaged in a downward motion, from his forearm to the end of his wrist, and watched his face. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but rather, watching her ministrations. He looked half panic stricken, like he might bolt, and half enchanted by her touch. She followed the pattern several times until he’d fully relaxed to her touch. “See, was that so bad?”

Hook’s face was a deep shade of red and his entire body had broken out in goosebumps. He didn’t know how to answer her question. He had never willingly let another person see his mutilated arm, let alone touch it. On one hand, it was that bad, he felt laid bare before her and he was still dressed. On the other hand, or hook, as it were, he felt something akin to what she had explained earlier, like he would be okay, because she was there. “I suppose not,” he murmured, all the more enamored by this enchanting woman.

“Good.” Laying back down, she wrapped both his arms around her and snuggled into him. “Much better.” Emma slept better that night than she had since they’d come home from Neverland.

Tagging some lovelies - please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells

#cs ff #cs fan fic #captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fan fiction

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years ago

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The Recruit (5/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings: Probably some incorrect fight-speak.

Notes: Yikes, I’m sorry for the wait on this. The holidays thoroughly kicked by ass, but now that they’re over, I should be back to regularly updating! Enjoy. x

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Training begins the day the cast comes off your wrist. An exact two weeks later, and Bucky’s pounding on your door at four AM, hair tied back and biceps - both flesh and gleaming black metal - on full display in his compression tank. Coupled with your sleepiness and just how unfairly attractive he is, your brain short-circuits for a minute when you first open the door.

“Up and at ‘em,” he orders, every bit the Sergeant you’d read about.

“Huh?” you reply dumbly, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Time for training, rookie.” The gleam in his eye lets you know he’s teasing, but still his face remains stoic. You glance over your shoulder.

“Bucky, it’s four AM.” Your voice is a little rough, still riddled by sleep, but Bucky pays it no mind.

“You wanted me to train you, so I am.” He pushes into your room, tamps down a flush at being in your personal space, and waits with his hands behind his back.

You stare for a few moments, realize he isn’t going anywhere, so you sigh, scuttle slowly to your dresser to pull out a sports bra, some leggings and a tank top. You step into the en suite bathroom and change quickly. A glance at Julie’s closed door confirms she hasn’t been woken by Bucky’s early visit, and you breathe a quick sigh of relief.

The gym is empty, lighting kept low. It smells clean, despite its purpose, and Bucky begins your training with warm-ups: a few laps, some crunches, a few rounds on the punching bag to get your blood flowing.

Then, the real work begins.

Bucky doesn’t go easy - he comes at you like an enemy would, throwing his weight into each kick and punch. Each move calculated and thought out before the previous one is even finished. You can’t keep up, block his attacks as best as you can, but he barely lets you get an attack of your own in. He never tires - damn super serum.

He downs you embarrassingly fast, knee pressed into your chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get his point across. He holds out his left hand, metal warm against your palm, and hoists you to your feet, but in the next second, he’s at you again.

You’re a little more ready this time - only just - and manage to parry more of his attacks. Even get in a kick that he blocks, but it’s the first time he’s given you an opening. He throws his metal fist and the whirring is loud next to your ear as you just barely dodge it. You’re a little surprised Bucky would even go for your face with the metal appendage, and it’s that shock that is your downfall.

Your split-second falter results in you face-down on the mat, feet swept out from under you with your arms pinned behind your back. Wind knocked out of you, nose throbbing where it’s hit the mat. You groan a little, grunting when his weight disappears from you, and you roll onto your back.

“Sheesh, you don’t fuck around, do you?” you ask, coughing as you catch your breath. He’s barely sweating above you, feet planted on either side of your hips. The only sign he’s exerted himself - a few strands of dark hair have fallen out of the bun at the back of his head.

“Not fair,” you mumble low under your breath, reminded only after a moment of his super soldier hearing. Face warming, you avert your eyes up and back as a smirk curls his mouth.

“Just needed to get a feel for you, sweetheart.” The pet name rolls over you like a warm bath, makes your skin prickle with goosebumps as he extends a hand and hauls you to your feet with all the effort it takes to lift a feather. Damn that super serum.

“Okay, first of all,” he starts once you’re back on your feet, steps forward and presses down on your shoulders, “you are way too tense. You’re going to hurt yourself, and you’re going to tire yourself out. So relax.”

You take a deep breath in and let it out slowly, try to push the tension coiled tight in your body away. It works, kind of, until a different kind of tension arises when Bucky circles you, brings his hands to your shoulders and digs his thumbs in.

“Relax,” he orders softly. “More.”

As his thumbs rub hard circles into the muscles of your shoulders, you feel your body melting against his touch, lower regions clenching. Jesus, what he does to you.

“Better.” His voice slides over you like a warm bath, soothing and comforting, until he lowers his hands and steps away. You almost lean back, chasing his touch. A low chuckle, and then he stands before you again. “Let’s try this again. Remember, keep yourself loose.”

It’s difficult to do what he says, to keep your body pliant and flexible when every time he swings for you, you yearn to tense up. You have to train your body, he says, train it to fight for you, not against you.

“You hesitate too much,” he says next. “You give your opponent too much time to suss out a weak spot. Don’t hesitate. Think. Stay a step ahead. When you make one move you should immediately be thinking of the next.”

You grit your teeth, quicken your movements and try to use the size difference against him. He grins, a little proudly, when he catches on, seems to struggle in keeping track of your hits.

“Good,” he encourages, following it up with a grunt as your elbow meets his lower belly.

You barely give him a second to recover, and then you move again, turning your moves into a game - a deception. Make him watch your right side as you attack from the left. It takes him minutes to recover, to figure out your game, and he’s grinning again. It both makes you preen and makes you push harder until you finally, finally pin him to the mat.

Sweat pours down your face, soaking your hair and your tank top, drips off your chin onto his chest where you sit, knees on his shoulders. He could easily toss you off, yet he remains where he is - again, barely panting though his skin glimmers with sweat.

He’s solid beneath you, hot like a furnace, wide barrel chest lightly heaving, mouth parted. You swallow thickly, all too warm now and not from the exertion. His eyes have gone dark, crystalline blue almost completely swallowed by black. Abdominal muscles clenching under you, he sits up, slow, almost hesitant. Hands, one metal and the other flesh, both molten as they glide up your spandex-clad legs, raising shivers as he goes.

Heat pools in your lower belly, breath laboring as his hands anchor on your hips, thumbs brushing circles. They’re distracting - his hands, his eyes as they peer up at yours under dark curtain lashes. You’ve never seen them so close, glittering silver under the fluorescent lighting. Breath hot against your cheeks. Everything so warm.

“Good,” he murmurs, low and smooth like honey, hands drifting higher. Yours settle on his biceps, flexing and twitching under your touch. Both unyielding.

Unsure who moves first, you’re surrounded by his scent as his lips touch yours, a tentative caress that steals your breath. You gasp, and Bucky presses forward, kisses you harder and slides his hands up to your face, holding you to him.

A whimper in the back of your throat, fingertips buzzing, mind cloudy as he kisses the breath out of your lungs. Your fingers curl into his hair, loosen it from the bun he’s tied it into. It’s silky soft as you rake your fingers through it, shudder as Bucky sighs into your mouth.

Then, like a cold bucket of ice, your eyes fly open and you jerk away from him, scramble out of his lap onto the mat. Hand over your mouth, you watch wide-eyed as his gently flutter open, lips red and kiss-swollen.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you gasp, and before you can rethink it, or ponder the confusion-hurt on his face, you flee the gym.

Face burning, you rub your cheeks, try to quell the heat - both from shame and from the effect of Bucky’s kiss. How could you let that happen? Exuded such a loss of control? What would Hill say if she found out? Your comrades? Taking advantage of an Avenger - that, or using him to boost yourself to the top. The rumors would fly, twist, convolute into things so far from the actual truth.

Which was that you’d taken advantage of a goddamn Avenger. Your reputation would be ruined, all the hard work you’ve put in - gone, hidden, erased by horrible rumors that you were nothing but a promiscuous ladder-climber.

Grumbling under your breath at your stupidity, you lean back against the elevator wall, give FRIDAY your floor number. The metal wall is cool against your flushed skin, helps to ground you and bring your mind back. Heaving a deep breath, you straighten as the elevator slides gracefully to a stop.

The doors slide open and you make to step out until you catch sight of an all-too-familiar figure leaning against the wall across from your door.

“Captain?”

Chapter Six

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve x you #steve x reader #steve x reader x bucky #steve x you x bucky #bucky x reader x steve #bucky x you x steve

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tfc2211 · 6 years ago

Audio

01 - Available Space 02 - Married Man's A Fool 03 - I Got Mine 04 - Alimony 05 - Jesus On The Mainline 06 - Maria Elena 07 - Feelin' Bad Blues 08 - The Long Riders 09 - Tamp 'Em Up Solid 10 - Poor Man's Shangri-La 11 - Goodnight Irene 12 - Chinito Chinito 13 - Down In Hollywood 14 - How Can You Keep Moving (Unless You Migrate Too) 15 - My Old Kentucky Home (Turpentine & Dandelion Wine) 16 - Smack Dab In The Middle 17 - Blue Suede Shoes 18 - I Need A Women 19 - Kool Aid 20 - Big Bad Bill Is Sweet William Now 21 - Happy Meeting In Glory 22 - Face To Face That I Shall Meet Him 23 - Glory

#Ry Cooder #compilation

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dontshootmespence · 7 years ago

Text

Natural

A/N: An anon request for a Jemily fic where Emily has had an awful day and JJ comes over with the boys to help cheer her up. They all watch movies and eat junk food and JJ finally realizes how much she loves Emily.

----

JJ: What’s up?

Em: Shitty day. Broke up with the ex again. About to drown myself in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.

JJ: Want me to bring the boys over? They’d love to see you. After Will and I separated, it’s been difficult for them.

Em: I can always, always see you and the boys.

JJ: Sweet, we’ll be over in a little bit. And I’ll bring more ice cream.

Emily plopped down on the couch faster than she did for the premiere of Game of Thrones. She and her ex had been on and off and on and off so many times that it was a wonder it took them this long to call things off for good. Her ex was fed up with her schedule and Emily hadn’t been fully in the relationship ever since JJ and Will broke up. Seeing JJ single brought back all those feelings that she’d long since tamped down.

Every time they were together, Emily’s thoughts drifted off, so she hadn’t been present in the relationship since, and frankly they’d called things off so many times that it was easier to do it this time and do it for good.

A knock at the door startled her. When she looked at the time, she couldn’t believe she’d been off in dreamland for nearly a half hour; it felt like five minutes. But when she looked through the peephole of her apartment, she saw JJ and the boys, both bouncing happily up and down. “Emily!”

“Who’s that?” She asked facetiously. “Who could be standing outside my door?”

“It’s me! Henry! And Michael and mom are here too!”

Emily’s saddened smile turned into a genuine one as she opened the door to bear hugs from some of her favorite boys in the whole world. “Mom has ice cream,” Henry said. “And we brought movies!”

Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a couple of movies: Moana, Captain America: Winter Solider and Civil War, Big Hero 6, and Zootopia. “Which one do you want to watch first?” He asked her.

“How about Big Hero 6? I think I need Baymax and my boys to cheer me up.”

JJ smiled when the boys ran toward the couch. Henry took the initiative and placed the movie in the DVD player while JJ and Emily portioned out some ice cream for the boys and took a separate pint to split. “Everything okay? Was it at least easier this time?” JJ asked. Emily and her ex had seemed so good for each other for such a long time, but recently (and by recently she meant like the past two years) things just weren’t working out; it was hard to let a relationship go - she knew that from experience.

“Yea,” Emily replied, hip-checking JJ as they made their way back to the couch to sit on either side of the boys. “It was time. Still tough though.”

“Well, movies and ice cream will make it better.”

“And you three,” she said, smiling.

Big Hero 6 was exactly what she needed. As soon as the movie started, she and JJ noted how similar the brother Tadashi sounded to their new co-worker Matt, and from there on out, they couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces. “Zootopia?” Michael asked, waddling over to the stack of movies. “Zootopia.”

Emily kissed him on the top of the head and put the movie in the DVD player. As her back was turned, JJ found herself confronting the feelings she’d been having for some months now. With Emily in and out of a relationship, she hadn’t wanted to muddle things further by confessing that she’d started to have romantic feelings for her, but now that she was out of the relationship (for good this time), she found her mind wondering again.

She started to get nervous. Should she say something? At all? In front of the boys? She didn’t know how to go about any of this. She and Will had been together for so long that she’d forgotten how to go about these kinds of things. Thankfully, she didn’t have too long to think about it because the boys started fawning over Zootopia the moment it came on. Halfway through the movie, Michael fell asleep against Emily’s side. Henry was going to follow suit soon; JJ could tell by the way his eyelids drooped and then popped back open. Sure enough, by the end of the movie, he was fast asleep. “I think we’re stuck,” she whispered, giggling to herself at how immovable they were.

“It could be worse,” Emily replied. “Way worse.” She ran her fingers gently through Michael’s hair and felt much more at ease than she had before. Smiling, she turned towards JJ. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Anytime,” she said. “Feel better.”

“Much.”

A slightly awkward silence hung in the air. “Em?”

Something in her best friend’s voice said that small sound had much more behind the simple syllable. “Yea.”

“After I broke it off with Will, I started realizing something...”

The corner of Emily’s lip twitched upward. “Me too. I’ve been so on and off in my relationship, and I only recently figured out why that was.”

Recognition dawned on JJ’s face. “Really?” The words hadn’t even been spoken, but with them it didn’t have to be. “I don’t know where you are in the whole wanting a relationship or wanting some space thing, but I did want to let you know that...I’m...interested.”

Gently, Emily moved her hip out from under Michael’s head, which fell softly to the couch. JJ took her lead, carefully placing Henry’s head on the opposing end. Making sure they were still asleep, Emily reached out her hand for JJ, taking her fingers and tugging her into the kitchen and into her embrace. “I am too. I don’t want to take things to quickly, but that’s only because I don’t want the boys to feel like I’m stepping in on Will’s territory. That’s the last thing I want. But at least you know that with me, you won’t have to worry about whether your S/O will love your kids.”

JJ blushed and leaned her head into Emily, reveling in the feel of her lips grazing her forehead. “Thank god,” she laughed.

As she picked her head up, Emily couldn’t hep but feel that this was right. Her last relationship hadn’t felt right for years, it’s just that they’d had such history that it had been hard to let go. With JJ though, not only did they have history, but they already wanted the best for each other. Both already knew the hectic nature of their schedule. Emily ran her hand up JJ’s back and up alongside her neck, bringing her finger underneath her chin to tilt her face toward her lips. When their lips connected, JJ melted into her. “Mmm, this is nice. How did we go so long without doing this?”

“I have no idea,” JJ replied dreamily. “But I guess we don’t have to wait any longer.” Turning around, she and Emily looked at the boys, breaths still rising and falling steadily against the couch. Emily had been afraid that if anything ever did happen with JJ, it would’ve felt weird, but standing here in this moment felt as natural as breathing.

@coveofmemories @jamiemelyn @sexualemobitch @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @rmmalta @lukeassmanalvez @the-slytherin-ice-queen @marvelfanlife @amarislestrange @obsessed5sosfreak @sonhadoraativa @1enchantedfantasy1 @ace-and-rosey @tarciau @twelveyearoldchildprodigy @offbrandcursewords @entelechysymphony @milkandcookies528 @pugs-cats-bb-8 @davidr0ssi @sarahkay-19 @obsessedwithbadasswomen

#jennifer jareau x emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily #dontshootmespence #natural

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songsforthearmchair · 5 years ago

Text

Dog Bed Blues

Jean Ritchie - Let The Sun Shine Down On Me.

Muddy Waters - You're Gonna Miss Me

Precious Bryant - Don't Jump My Pony

Abe McNeil - Drink Drink Drink

Mississippi John Hurt - Make Me A Pallet On Your Floor

Elizabeth Cotton - Fox Chase

Willie Nelson - I Just Destroyed The World

Michael Hurley - Jocko's Lament

Peggy Seeger - Leatherwing Bat

Jimmy Lee Williams - Have You Ever Seen Peaches

Jessie Mae Hemphill - I Want To Be Ready

Ry Cooder - Tamp' Em Up Solid

John Lee Ziegler - Whose Gonna Be Your Man

Jesse Fuller - Stagolee

Junior Kimbrough - Meet Me in the City

Rev. Lonnie Farris - Peace in the Valley

Captain Luke - Chokin' Kind Mix by RSG

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bungitonthen · 7 years ago

Text

5/10/17

how can you keep moving unless you migrate too ... billy the kid ... money honey ... FDR in trinidad ... teardrops will fall ... denomination blues ... on a monday ... hey porter ... great dream from heaven ... taxes on the farmer feeds us all - ry cooder (into the purple valley)

tamp ‘em up solid ... tattler ... a married man’s a fool ... jesus on the mainline ... it’s all over now ... medley: fool for a cigarette/feelin’ good ... if walls could talk ... mexican divorce ... ditty wah ditty - ry cooder (paradise and lunch)

big bad bill is sweet william now ... face to face that I shall meet him ... the pearls/tia juana ... the dream ... happy meeting in glory ... in a mist ... flashes ... davenport blues ... shine ... nobody ... we shall be happy - ry cooder (jazz)

#ry cooder

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solotheloso · 8 years ago

Text

A Rash Decision - Ch. 2

This one feels a little short. Might fold more into it or continue into a new chapter. Depends on how it flows. Additionally, pasting text into Tumblr’s text editor screws it up to high hell and I have to make fixes manually. If you spot what looks like a formatting error, feel free to let me know.

Roruvi’s day began like most others, save for the fact that he rose well past noon. The sky was cloudless and the sun hung high to the west, sending a blazing pane of light through his window to illuminate the whole room in a soft glow. He trudged sleepily through his study– past shelves stacked high with documents and books and practically groaning under the weight of it– and into what served as his bathroom, a small space with a rudimentary toilet and a copper basin full of water for washing. Folly’s plumbing system was primitive but it was heads and shoulders above what most smaller villages had to work with. He had taken pains to maintain his washroom, as he was a stickler for hygiene when possible. He made it a point to thoroughly scrub himself every rising, a habit that some of his peers found quite amusing.

The first sight he was greeted with on descending the stairs from his living quarters was the haggard face of his niece, Tovana. The girl had handled the bar admirably in his absence, but he still ended up having to tend the fungus in the greenhouse before collapsing into bed, a task she rarely seemed to remember. He had applied the usual punishment, having her rise at dawn to open the tavern and serve the morning crowd. Consequently, she seemed about ready to collapse into the nearest chair– or perhaps the floor. The place was empty now, but he imagined he would be able to hear the clumping of departing boots if he listened hard enough. He chuckled quietly to himself as he watched her sweep the last of the dirty mugs and plates onto a bussing tray. “Such a beautiful morning, is it not?”

Tovana glared fire at him for a brief moment before remembering herself, tamping it down to a dull simmer. “Uncle. It’s well past mid-day.”

“Ah, that it is!” He sauntered around the back of the bar and filled two small wooden mugs with a light wine. “Then I suppose I should begin my day. How did you fare last night?”

She snatched the second mug with a huff and knocked it back before he had even taken his first sip. “Last night wasn’t the problem. I don’t know what happened between then and this morning, but I must have served a battalion of humans in the last six hours, all wanting a full plate breakfast.”

“Then you should have remembered to tend the shrooms! I swear, it’s as if you try to forget your duties.” He sipped delicately at the wine, savoring its mild sweetness. “And they were here because it’s the first day of spring. Any sailor or longshoreman worth his salt knows that now’s the best time to find honest work down at the docks, since the weather’s at its kindest. I’d considered lending a hand, but you need to be able to handle these crowds yourself.”

She blinked at him deliberately, in a way that implied deep boredom. He knew that her sour mood would make her deny her interest, but she often professed that she hoped to own a tavern herself some day. She would soak this fact up like a sponge, just like every other bit of wisdom he spouted. “Your ranger friend is unconscious at the corner table.”

Ruvi barked out a short laugh. “Of course she is!” He left his niece to her work and walked over to the corner of the main floor, where Lika was passed out with her upper body sprawled over the table surface. Golden sunlight poured through an adjacent window, spilling over her and making her short shock of black hair glow at the fringes like a wreath of flame. He stopped for a moment, absorbing the sight. In his younger days, during training with their master, he had entered a brief fit of infatuation with his partner. He had pined for weeks in uncomfortable silence before propositioning her for a relationship, only to be utterly shot down. She had little interest in romance so far– either physically or emotionally– but it had pained her to reject him like that. Their friendship eventually recovered, but some small part of Ruvi had never healed and he occasionally found himself confronted with momentary pangs.

“Lika,” he said, gently. He didn’t touch her in his attempts to wake her. It would be foolish to do such a thing with any ranger. “Lika!” She only groaned in response, mashing her face into her arm. “Wake up. We’re out of cheeses and I could use your company in the market.”

She shot up suddenly, blinking rapidly with bleary eyes. “Huh? Oh, yes! Cheese.” Ruvi smirked at that. He had his ways after all these years. “How’s Tovana doing?” she asked, stifling an enormous yawn. “I offered to lend a hand when I came in, but she was weirdly insistent on doing everything by herself.”

“Uh, she’s fine,” he replied. “Nothing she couldn’t handle.” Despite Lika’s skill as a ranger, when it came to more domestic activities she was utterly hopeless, somewhat resembling a natural disaster. Tovana was wise to refuse her “assistance”.

“Alright, then. Shall we go? You’ve gotten me hungry, and you know I don’t like being hungry.” They left the tavern together in high spirits.

–

Folly’s market was arguably its biggest draw. Its position as a hub for shipping and importing goods ensured that a vast medley of artisans and merchants passed through every year while seeking their fortune, whether from sea or further inland. With them they brought a higher variety of goods than most people could ever claim to see, let alone indulge in.

Luckily for Lika, this afforded her the opportunity to satiate her seemingly bottomless appetite with something new almost every day. She and Ruvi walked through the market at a leisurely pace, passing fishmongers, jewelers, spice dealers and every other sort of stall or booth one could think of. The crowds parted around burro-drawn carts hauling goods by the ton. Merchants crowed and crooned at passersby, each of them assuring that their prices were the best and only a fool would pass them up. The odors of smoke, fish, cooking food, spices, musty textiles and animal dung mixed together in a chaotic storm that felt almost intoxicating with every breath. Lika found that she often missed the sensation when she was away, as it had come to represent the comforts of civilization that she so enjoyed– and, in no small part, her friendship with Ruvi.

The dwarf stared at her in fascination as she munched on a wax paper-wrapped ball of brined cheese with a steady pace he could barely muster for his favorite foods. She didn’t seem to notice, her eyes already busy scanning the stalls for her next prey. “Are you even enjoying that?” he asked, slowly.

“Huh? Affaloofly!” She swallowed and cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?” He shook his head in exasperation and changed the subject.

“So… I went through the archive last night.” Some years ago, Ruvi had come to inherit their master’s small collection of books. Composed of various tomes and documents detailing encounters with beasts, monsters and unidentifiable creatures, the collection had come to be his most prized possession, and he had taken care to expand it as much as possible while still maintaining what credibility its contents had.

“And?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He took care to step around a group of silk-robed merchants locked in a shouting match. “Or rather, no complete matches. There’s no creature I’ve heard or read of that has the strength to inflict that kind of damage and can move unhindered in this terrain.”

She shook her head, exasperated. “Nothing. It’s not often you’re stumped, Ruvi.” He waved a hand dismissively, grumbling to himself.

“I’m thinking we might need to pay a visit to Eland after our errands,” he said. Lika groaned in response, an almost instinctive reaction on her part.

“Please, no. I know she means well, but I just– I can’t.”

“I still have no idea why you have such a visceral reaction to her.”

She shrugged and sighed. “Neither do I. She just… something about her rubs me the wrong way. She’s so positive!”

Ruvi laughed. “One might think you were allergic to positivity!” he exclaimed. She merely scowled at him in response. Lika had never thought of herself as a particularly dour person, but she had to admit that excessive cheeriness left a bad taste in her mouth. A dark thought occurred to her: was this her inheritance, as the books were Roruvi’s? She couldn’t help but let a wry smile creep onto her face.

They reached their destination, a large set of stalls set into the wall of a seaside warehouse. The row was sheltered from the sun by half a dozen massive tarpaulins, their corners elevated on narrow wooden beams anchored crudely to the boardwalk posts beneath by heavy iron nails. Cheese of every shape and size was stacked and packed on the stall counters in large quantities, shielded from the elements and errant insects by thin layers of wax paper. The aggressive stench of the market proper was well behind them at this point, leaving only the soft pungency of herbs and dairy to mix with the fresh salt breeze of the ocean. In a strange way, it was calming. This was only complemented by the presence of the rotund man sitting placidly on a stool at the end of the row. He was known to the pair only as Severo. An experienced and charismatic man with a thriving career, he was well-liked by the locals and most sailors alike. Officially speaking his business was cheese and dairy, but the rangers had an inkling that he dealt in something else besides. Every so often, rumors reached them of Severo’s involvement in less-than-legal affairs such as smuggling and forging, but they never reached any solid conclusions and thus decided to do little but keep a close eye on him. The city wasn’t within their jurisdiction, anyway.

Severo looked up as they approached, his face immediately adopting a beaming smile. “Lika! Roruvi! How good it is to see you today!” He stood with a grace that belied his size, his flowing white and gray robe rustling gently in the breeze. His body still bore the remnants of what may have been an athletic build, his forearms especially; lined with pale scars and corded muscle, they betrayed a past of either heavy labor or consistent violence.

“Ho, Severus,” Ruvi replied. Lika nodded politely and approached the booths, her eyes roving over the selection. Her companion was the one who had business with Severo. She was just here for the view. “How’s the cheese trade?”

The man barked out a short laugh, as if Ruvi had just told a passably funny joke. “Just this morning I wrote a sales note for sixty-five pounds of mountain rock bleu, so I suppose I can say I’m doing quite well! What brings you here today?”

The two haggled over prices for the next twenty minutes while Lika browsed and made mental notes of things to try in the future. When the deal was done, Severo was a pouch of silver richer and Ruvi gained ownership of an entire barrow of cheeses, to be delivered to the tavern later that evening.

Just before they were about to leave, Ruvi turned back to the merchant, one finger in the air as if he had just remembered something. “Oh, Severo… “ he said in an offhanded manner. “Have you heard tell of any land-bound shipments being disrupted recently? Animal attacks, perhaps?”

Severo shrugged. “None that I can think of. Aside from that silk trader two days past, but I imagine you already know about that. Ranger business, as always.” Lika frowned and turned away, gazing out over the water. Was Severo having her followed? Or did he have sources in the Guild? The possibilities troubled her.

“Yes, it is,” said Ruvi. The ranger huffed out through his nose, slowly rubbing his scalp.“But we still don’t know what did it, which makes us quite uncomfortable. Considering the target, the possibility of a repeat occurrence should make you uncomfortable as well.”

Severo grimaced for a moment, then tilted his head in a small nod. “I suppose that’s true enough. But I’m not sure how you expect me to help.”

“We’re not looking for financing, Severo. Just information. Keep your ear to the ground.” Ruvi stared at him pointedly. “I know you have your ways.” Lika forced herself to suppress a chuckle. A part of her enjoyed needling the merchant now and then, making him sweat a little. From all indications he wasn’t a bad man, but she found his less legitimate business to be distasteful, and reminding him that they could investigate at any time kept him honest… or at least honest enough for their purposes. She wasn’t worried about ruining their professional relationship. Severo was a businessman first and foremost, and much of their dialogue in the past had been respectful sparring, little games of cat and mouse.

The merchant feigned an innocent expression, raising his eyebrows and stroking at the scruff of his goatee. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about. But I’ll keep you in mind if I hear anything.”

“That’s all we can ask,” Lika replied. The pair left the merchant to his own devices and headed deeper into the city. As little as she liked it, they had a scholar to see.

#writing

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