#the man where’s glasses and I’m ready to pop out a brood of children for him

[nateezfics]

need him in my bed and in me actually. and i’m so serious you guys.

[phykios]

Ain’t No Sunshine, modern royalty, 1970s au [read on ao3] thank you as always to my darling @darkmagyk for taking a true story off the rails

May 3rd, 1979. The date seemed to jump off the page, the loud, bold text almost mocking her. 

Not that she was keeping track, but it was just about four years to the day.

She’d woken up this morning, feeling kind of off, wandering around her apartment in a daze as she hustled her children out the door for daycare, losing time on her bus commute to work. It wasn’t until lunch, as she took the time to go through her day planner, that she realized: four years ago was when she had last seen Percy Jackson.

Though why Annabeth was thinking about him right this second was anyone’s guess.

Oh, sure, she’d thought about him a lot all throughout her pregnancy--thought about him, cursed his name, dreamed of strangling him for leaving her alone with these two absolute terrors--but as the years had gone by, and she had lost all hope of ever making contact with him again, he’d sort of fallen by the wayside of her thoughts. Something must have been going on with the navy mail system, because absolutely none of the letters or postcards she’d sent had ever been received, and she couldn’t reach out to Sally, since Annabeth had lost her address as well. 

There was always the possibility that he… well, that he wasn’t around to receive letters anymore. But she tried not to think about it. 

She tried her best not to think about him at all, these days.

Today, however, her childhood best friend turned US navy midshipman had popped up on her internal radar, and had just decided to take up residence in her brain. Her normally mind-numbing job couldn’t even properly distract her, and she spent all afternoon daydreaming about his messy, perpetually windswept hair, and his toothy, contagious smile, and his gorgeous green eyes like she was some kind of pathetic, lovestruck teenager, obsessing over her rockstar crush. Taking calls, scheduling appointments, and dodging the creepy advances of the assistant CFO were slightly more palatable if she had something pleasant to think about. 

Old-fashioned romance was for suckers, anyway. Who needed it? 

At least it was Friday. Fridays were KFC days, and she really did not need to accidentally burn dinner today. Again.

She hated it, but her kids loved it. God knows they could barely stomach whatever she usually attempted.

She sent them to bed early-ish, and settled down in front of the TV with a glass of wine. She didn’t usually indulge, but she had had such a weird day, she felt she deserved it. 

Taking a long, long sip, she could no longer deny it: she really fucking missed Percy.

She missed him like she’d miss a missing limb, and it was all the more cruel because she’d lost him once, and miraculously found him again, on that fateful trip home from Athens. A military brat stuck at the American naval base in Spain to save money, waiting for a spare seat to open up on a plane so she could go home, by the sheer force of luck, she’d practically tripped and fallen into the lap of her childhood best friend. 

And then she did trip into his lap. And then into his bed. And stupid, stupid, Annabeth, she’d always been so bad with her birth control.

Her little boy, he had blond hair, but sometimes he would look at her, or laugh at something, or drool in his sleep just like his daddy, and Annabeth thought she might just fucking die from it.

She loved her children, of course, how could she not? But she wasn’t about to deny it--sometimes, alone in parenthood, juggling dishes and laundry and schoolwork and life, she felt like she was drowning.

Sharp, piercing, the doorbell rang, knocking her out of her reverie. A little tipsy, still in her rumpled work clothes, she set the glass aside, and made her way to the door. “Mr. D,” she said, opening it, prepared speech all ready to go, “I told you, I’d have the rent for you by--”

She stopped, blinking, speechless. It was not Mr. D.

“Hey,” said the man outside her door. The ghost from another world that she had, apparently, conjured with her thoughts.

“...Hey.”

He smiled, a little strained, the light of the streetlamps casting harsh shadows on his face. “It’s good to see you.” 

“How did you know where I lived?” It was, perhaps, not the most elegant thing to say, but she hadn’t exactly planned for what would happen when Percy Jackson, love of her life, father of her children, long-lost best friend wandered back into her life.

“Can I come in? Maybe for a Coke or something?” he asked, not answering her question. 

She almost wanted to say no. For every letter never returned, for every month gone by without a word, for every day spent raising their children without him, not knowing if he was alive or dead--she almost said no. 

But this was Percy. She could spare him a Coca Cola at least. “Sure,” she said, leaning away, “come on.”

“Great,” he said, and this time, his smile was all real. 

So focused had she been on him, she hadn’t even clocked the older man who stood behind him. “Sir,” said the other man, with the air of a beleaguered secretary--and Annabeth would know, “I really must advise--”

“I’ll just be a minute,” said Percy, not even bothering to look back at him, pushing past Annabeth’s half-extended arm.

“But, sir, your father--”

Percy let the door shut in his face.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Harsh.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well… I’ll make it up to him later.”

“Who is he?”

But Percy didn’t answer. “Nice place you got here.”

He was being nice, of course. It was a craphole apartment in a craphole side of town--but the rent was cheap and the bus was convenient, and she only felt the slightest bit of shame as she led him to the craphole couch, handing him a coke from her craphole fridge. Christ, his suit looked like it cost more than her TV.

“Is your… husband home?” he asked, delicate.

“My what?”

“Your husband. I saw, um…” Embarrassed, he flicked his eyes to the ring on her left hand. 

“Oh, this? It’s--it’s not--” Hastily, clumsily, she fumbles it off, pulling around the knuckle. “I’m not--I’m not.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I just--it’s to ward off creepy guys, right? Like, they won’t take no for an answer unless they think they’ll have to deal with an angry husband, so I just…” 

In her more pathetic moments, she pretended that it had been given to her by the man before her. She had picked something small and simple, something that she thought he might have gone with, and pretended he had slipped it into her pocket the day she left the naval base. 

“That’s--cool. That’s great, I mean. I mean, that’s--”

“What do you want, Percy?”

Not at all bothered by the shortness of her tone, he sighed, closing his eyes. “I have a… personal question I need to ask you. And I’m sorry to bother you with this, I just--I have to ask.”

Ominous. “Okay?”

“Did we…” He sighed again, mouth twisting. “Did you, as a result of our repeated sexual encounters four years ago, happen to have any children by me?”

He just rattled it off, as if it was something he’d said over and over and over again, tired of receiving the same answer, but never expecting anything different.

“Excuse me?”

“I know, I know, it’s an extremely rude question, and I know I have no right to ask you, especially since it’s been so long, but I swear, there’s a reason I--”

“Did you never get any of the letters I sent you?”

At that, his head shot up. The look in his eyes could only be described as ‘terror.’ “What?”

“I must have sent you half a dozen,” she said, crossing to the kitchen, the wine making her a little bit short. She had, in fact, sent him eight letters, with pictures, and never received a single response, but since he seemed genuinely lost, she decided not to tell him. Plucking the most recent photo down from the fridge, she returned to the man in her living room, his knuckles white around the can. 

Standing before him, she handed him the photograph. He took it, fingers shaking. “We… you…” 

“Percy Jackson,” she said, like she was introducing him to someone at a party, “meet your children.”

Even after they had just been born, Annabeth had seen how obviously they were his. Only their daughter had the same messy black hair, both both had the same long, straight nose, the same intense, brooding brow as their father--and when her son smiled, or her daughter laughed, it was hard not to see the shades of Percy so strongly in them. It was hard to see them, too. 

Percy’s mouth was trembling. His eyes were wide, glassy, fixed on the photo. “My--” he swallowed. “What--what are their names?”

“Alexander,” she said, softly, “and Anne--”

“Annemarie,” he breathed. “Alexander and Annemarie.” He looked up at her, his eyes shining. “You remembered?”

Of course she remembered. Two lonely kids, she and Percy had spent so much of their childhood together, playing house, building their perfect family, even if only in their imagination. Alexander for his mother’s cousin, and Annemarie because he had wanted to name their  daughter Annabeth, and she wouldn’t let him. Twenty years later, alone and in pain, holding her newborn children and alternately cursing the man who made them and desperately wishing he were with her, Annabeth had known that they could only have one set of names, even if their father might never meet them. 

His face crumpled. He dropped his head into his hand, and groaned, like someone had pressed on an open wound. 

“Percy!” Annabeth sat down next to him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his leg. Four years later and it still felt so natural to touch him like this. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, he grunted. “Yeah,” he croaked, voice hoarse, “I’m okay. I’m fine. I just--” And then he shuddered, a hand coming up to scrub at his eyes. 

He was crying, she realized suddenly. Annabeth used to be the one that cried. She could count on one hand how many times she’d seen him cry. He hadn’t even cried when she had finally left the naval base. 

Taking a shaking breath, he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his expensive suit. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, shattered. “I didn’t--I never--if I had known, I swear, I would have left the navy. I would have come home.”

The silent, unspoken “to you” echoed in the dead air of her apartment. “Why didn’t you?” she asked, quietly.

They held each other’s eyes, an eternity passing in a heartbeat. Neither wanted to break the sacred silence, to bring words into the crystalline moment that hung in the balance between them. 

“I never got your letters,” he said, tears in his eyes. “I… after you--left, I…” he sighed, aching. “I… got hurt. Bad.” 

Annabeth couldn’t breathe. 

“And,” he huffed a laugh, wet and messy, “and then I met my father. Can you believe it?”

Her eyes bugged out of her head. “You what?”

He nodded.

“He’s alive?” 

Sally rarely spoke of him, and Percy had always refused to. Annabeth had just assumed he had died, years and years and years ago. 

Percy laughed again, humorless. “He’s the king of Thera.”

Her jaw dropped. “He…”

“Yeah.”

“Are you shitting me?”

Shaking his head, he smiled, rueful. “I wish.”

Words from a half-remembered newscast floated through her mind. Alexander and Annemarie had been right terrors that night, and she had only been half-listening as the reporter informed the world that Triton, hereditary prince of Thera, had died, killed in military action. “He… found you?”

Percy nodded, miserable. “He told me--asked--told me to--to find anyone I might have…” And then he swallowed, tears in his eyes again, real, glistening tears. “And I am so, so sorry, I know--I know your job is here, and your whole life, and the children, but I--”

She took his hand in hers, squeezing gently so he didn’t fly away. “It’s okay,” she said. “Just say it.”

“I’m supposed to--I’m supposed to… if you would… come with me,” he trailed off, suddenly shy. 

For the second time tonight, she felt like she’d been hit with a sledgehammer. “...What?”

“He… my father… the king wants--needs heirs. He… he asked for a list of women, and I… gave him your name.” Stomach hot, Annabeth wished she had the courage to know about the other women on that list. Or to ask  why Percy, young and handsome as he’d been at both twelve and twenty, wasn’t out there making some new ones himself. Why was he chasing down old leads? Why was he chasing down Chase bastards? “You’d--you’d live in the castle,” he said, like he was trying to sell her on it, though she could tell his heart wasn’t really in it, “and we, well, we’d technically have to get married, but that doesn’t need to be a big deal. You’d get your own rooms. You can set them up however you want. And you’d have a personal staff, a stipend, and the kids would get private teachers, and--”

“Staff?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Yes?”

Staff. Someone to do the laundry and clean the dishes. Someone to cook dinner and look after the house. Someone to help. Someone to do all the parental things that she just could not do, not by herself. Not without him. 

“I know I have no right to ask this of you,” he said, squeezing her hand. His hand was just as big as she remembered, and just as warm. “And I would never, ever force you to do anything that you wouldn’t want to--”

“Yes,” she said, interrupting him. 

He blinked, dumbly. “What?”

“Yes. I’ll come with you. We all will.”

“...Oh. Uh, great. That’s--that’s good. Are you sure?” He looked like a lost little dolphin, eyes huge and uncertain, and then, Annabeth did the one thing that she’d been desperately wanting to do for the last four years. 

She pulled his face to hers, and she kissed him. Shocked, he stiffened, almost pulling away--before relaxing into her, cupping her face in his big, warm hand. Eyes closed, they leaned their heads against each other, sharing air once more for the first time in years. She had lost him twice already: once as a child, when her father had decided to move her across the country, and once as a lovestruck college girl, when she had to leave the naval base, four years ago. She wasn’t about to lose him for a third time. 

And for the first time in forever, she no longer felt like she was drowning.

[thedragonsden]

Broken Glass - Chapter 7

     As the final hours of wedding preparation ended, a romantic sun had started to rise, the big day had truly arrived. Emilia, Jessica, and Natalie were all in their bath robes giggling and helping Maria into her wedding gown. They had about an hour before guests started to arrive and roughly forty-five minutes from then until Maria was Mrs. Frank Castle. The four of them were recounting memories long past, toasting to Eric and wishing he were with them, thinking about how life had changed around them, but they always had one another. Their laughs and tears died down when Emilia’s phone buzzed.      “That would be our queue to get ready ladies! Let’s get you married Maria.” They all cheered, embracing in one last group hug before each going to their dresses and finishing their make-up. Before Emilia could slip away, Maria grabbed her wrist.       “Do you really think I’m ready to get married?” Maria whispered nervously.       A soft smile reached Emilia’s lips and she nodded, “Maria, the entire time that I’ve known you, you have always been the one that was prepared for this life. Married to a good man, children that you love like no other mother has, and surrounded by people who love you.”      Maria’s eyes softened, the last of her worry dissipating, though she was careful not to let any tears fall and ruin her makeup. She gave Emilia’s hand a soft squeeze, “Thank you Eve. From the beginning, long before we were friends, you were there for me. Supported me, had my back. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”      “Darling you wouldn’t be getting married without me, I introduced you, remember?” Emilia said cheekily.       The two of them burst into laughter, “This is the only time I’ll ever say that I’m glad you saw him first.”      Emilia rolled her eyes, “He’s not my type, too brooding.”      Maria gasped and smacked Emilia’s shoulder, “Eve! Just because you like them pretty.”      “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Emilia stuttered.       Maria rolled her eyes, “I asked you and Billy to help with wedding preparation, not start planning your own.”      Emilia felt her stomach knot but pretended to gag, “Maria, B-Billy Russo, is far from my type.”      She nodded, a look of teasing disbelief across her face, “Whatever you say Emilia. Just be careful.”       As Maria walked away, Emilia stood there lost in thought for a moment. Did she? There was no way, no one had told Maria about what had happened yesterday at the jewelers, only that she and Bill had gotten drinks afterwards to “celebrate”. Emilia didn’t have time to think about Billy, she needed to get dressed and focus on keeping Maria happy. Thankfully a majority of her morning sickness had subsided, but Emilia had made sure to set aside a few club sodas for her just in case.       The groomsmen were all men that Frank served with, so they would be wearing their dress blues, thankfully they went well with the off-white and periwinkle theme that Maria had decided on. The bridesmaid’s dresses were long, off-shoulder and grey with periwinkle ribbon around the waist. They each had on a white necklace with a white and blue bouquet to match, Maria’s was the only one with a splash of yellow in it. While they looked relatively similar, Maria had insisted that as maid of honour Emilia add a dash of lavender. In order to fulfill her wishes, Emilia had asked that instead of a grey dress, the bodice of her dress be made lavender and she wore a grey slip underneath. The colour combination really popped amidst the rest of the neutral setting. Maria had been overjoyed when she’d seen it complete.       Natalie and Jessica finished dressing and went to meet with groomsmen they’d be walking the procession with, while Emilia lingered to check on Maria.       “Nan should be in any moment. She was saying hello to the Castles.” Emilia smiled.      Maria nodded, “This is it.” 

     “How do you feel?”

     “Nervous,” she said bluntly. 

     “Frank loves you Maria, and you’re about to have a real family. If your child is anything like you, there’s nothing left for you to worry about.” Emilia smiled. 

      “I love you, Emilia. You’re my sister. Blood or not,” Nan entered the room with a huge grin on her face. Kissing both of Emilia’s cheeks before hugging Maria. She had whispered something to her in Italian that made her giggle then nodded.      “I’ll see you soon,” Emilia said before grabbing her bouquet and going to meet Billy. She didn’t have to search far, as the music from the chapel began, he was waiting outside of the procession with a smirk on his face.       “Well well, I’m surprised you’re not hung over from the shots we had last night.”      “Good to see you too Bill,” Emilia rolled her eyes before taking his arm.       Billy chuckled, “You drank me under the table, I just want to know how your head isn’t pounding like mine.”      “Women are just better at holding their liquor.”     “Or maybe,” Billy insisted, “you’re keeping secrets from me.”     Emilia laughed, “I would hope that after yesterdays events you would know that I’m full of surprises and secrets.”      “Hey, I saved your life,” he snapped.      “To which I’m eternally grateful.”      Billy scoffed, “You know because of that I didn’t have time to get a date.”      “Poor you,” Emilia said pitifully.      Billy crinkled his nose, she couldn’t tell if it was out of anger, spite, or something deeper but it made her laugh.      “I was thinking,” he started to say as the doors opened.       “Oh boy,” Emilia announced. “Look out everyone Lieutenant Russo is thinking.”      Billy chose to ignore her, “Since I didn’t have time to find a date, which technically is your fault.”      “Hardly.”      “You owe me a dance,” it wasn’t a question.      Emilia almost stopped in her tracks, halting the procession. It was only the slight pull from Billy’s arm that kept her from falling.       “I beg your pardon,” she whispered rather confused.       Billy exhaled, “I couldn’t find a date and I would naturally assume that that means you didn’t have time to either. So, we already have to be here as maid of honour and best man, what say we take it a step further and you save me a dance later?”      Emilia didn’t answer right away, she was mechanically smiling and nodding to the familiar faces she saw as they entered the chapel. But before they reached the altar and separated, she looked to Billy.       “What I do in my spare time is my business,” She hissed, “I could have had a date planned for weeks and you’ve just been incredibly inconsiderate to them.”      “Well, do you?” He asked with a raised brow.      She let out a guilty sigh, “Fine, one dance. But you’re buying my drink.”      “Done,” he said cheerfully. Just in time for them to split up.       There was a moment of silence before everyone stood to face the door that Maria was going to come through. As she and Nan entered everyone stood and Frank’s jaw dropped, Emilia could’ve sworn she’d seen a tear in his eye. She hoped one day to find a love like theirs. It reminded her of her parents. The ceremony went by in a haze as Emilia was trying to process her interaction with Billy in the procession. She felt bad for keeping him from finding a date, not that it was purposeful, but she still had a twinge of guilt. Aside from the moment Billy had given Frank the rings, his eyes were on her the entire time. It had been like the two of them had held a conversation without ever saying a word.       Before she knew it, the priest named them man and wife, the reception began, and Frank and Maria were having their first dance. As Paul Weller’s ‘You do something to me’, started to play Frank and Maria had a spotlight on them and close friends and family in the reception hall were cheering every time they spun and shared a kiss.      Bellies full of food, hearty laughs echoing from drunken lips and the clinking of silverware exploded after the cake had been cut. Billy stood up and whistled to get everyone’s attention.      “Alright everyone, what say we toast to the happy couple huh?” He lifted his glass and winked at Frank who flashed him the bird and rolled his eyes. “Frankie, congratulations. You’re my best friend, my brother, my comrade in arms, and the baddest son of a bitch in the Marine Corps.” A sea of applause and cheers from the brothers in their platoon followed. Billy chuckled, “I remember the first time you brought Maria to our house and introduced us. I honestly never thought you were the type to like Catholic girls, but here you sit.”      “Fuck you Bill,” Frank laughed. Maria and Emilia shared a look before rolling their eyes.       Billy waved his comment away and continued, “All that aside, I see how happy Maria makes you. I see the light she’s brought to your life, and how you would do anything to keep her and your found family safe. You’re my brother Frankie and that makes you my sister Maria.”      The crowd ‘awed’, Maria clutched her chest.       “I love you both, you’ve always been there for me and you introduced me to a side of life I never would’ve thought possible where I grew up. Congratulations brother. To Frank and Maria!”      “To Frank and Maria,” everyone raised their glasses and drank.       Emilia smiled at Maria, taking a swig of her champagne and then stood, “Thank you for your words of affirmation Bill. I think that’s the most eloquent I’ve ever heard you speak.”      Everyone laughed, Billy just stuck out his tongue.      “Like Billy, I lost my family at an early age,” Emilia said slowly. “Growing up on my own until one day when a girl running late for her morning lecture caused me to be late for a morning rehearsal.”     Natalie, Jessica and Maria giggled.    “Little did I know that a few short hours later, that same girl would quickly become my best friend, but also my sister.”      Tears welled in Maria’s eyes.      “Maria, I’ve known you and Nan a long time. From all of our ups and downs as a family, to that summer’s day when Frankie came into our lives. You ever finish learning that song mate?”       Frank blushed and waved her away, the crowd chuckled.       Emilia took in a deep breath, “You and Frank are two of the most important people in my life and everyone’s life in this room today. We celebrate your love, because in some way, you’ve shown that love to all of us. I have no idea where either of us would be if I hadn’t asked you to join us that night at the bar.”      “Or punched that guy in the nose!” Jessica yelled.       “Jessica!” Natalie hissed.      Everyone laughed once more.         “Maria, you and Frank deserve every happiness. I am blessed to bare witness to your story, as are we all. I wish you and Frankie every dream, every beautiful moment that life can offer you both. You are my family and your love, is something we should all hope to find one day.”      Maria, Mrs. Castle, and a few other women in the room started tearing up as Emilia raised her glass.       “To Frank and Maria!” Everyone shouted.       Emilia took her seat and downed her champagne, not knowing why she started to feel tense. As the night went on and people started to leave or dance with their dates, Maria and Frank had slipped off to be alone and talk about the baby. Jessica and Natalie were each in some corner making out with their dates and getting a little too handsy. It was only after the third time he called to her that Emilia registered Billy’s voice.       “What?” She asked looking up at him confused.       He chuckled and shook his head. “You still owe me a dance,” he repeated.       “Oh, right. Sorry.” Emilia stood. Billy held out his hand and led her to the floor. The DJ had changed it to something a little slower and more romantic once they’d stepped onto the floor, but Emilia was far to occupied by her thoughts to notice. As Billy placed his arms around her waist, she jumped slightly.        “You’re a bit scattered tonight, what’s the matter?” He asked looking her over.       Shaking herself out of it, Emilia shrugged. “I’m fine.”      Raising a brow Billy disagreed, “We don’t have to talk about it, but could you at least try to have a little fun?”       “You see Bill, you only asked me to dance. If you wanted me to have fun you should’ve put in a request with my assistant yesterday.”      “You mean while I was busy saving your life from the mob?” He teased.       She shuddered.      “I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate. Are you alright?” His tone soft and concerned.       She nodded, “They can’t do anything to me now can they?”      Billy shook his head and smiled.       “Then I’ll be okay, just trying to shake what happened I guess.”      “Have you told Maria yet?”      Her face went white and she started shaking her head violently, “Absolutely not. I probably won’t tell her until after the baby is born.”      “She’s not going to like that,” he admitted.       Emilia sighed, “I know, but she’ll have to understand.”      The song finished but they didn’t separate.      “When did you become such a poet?” Billy asked.      “What do you mean?” Emilia asked, her arms still laced behind his neck.      He motioned his chin to the head of the table where they saw Frank and Maria return.        “Your speech, I didn’t know you were such a poet.”       She chuckled, “Oh, that. I was just telling the truth.”       “Well, I like it.” He smiled.       “No more ideas from you Bill. I can only take so much,” She exhaled exhaustively.       Billy laughed, “So you are willing to take things from me.”      “Thin ice.”      Billy sighed in defeat, “Fine.”      As the songs ended and people had said their goodbyes, Billy offered to walk Emilia to her car. After some time in silence he spoke up again.       “Thank you, Emilia,” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “You know, for tonight. I enjoy your company.”      “You know Billy, I hate to admit it, but I had fun. You’re not as lousy a dance partner as I assumed you’d be.” She laughed.        Billy clutched his chest in shock, “Hurtful.”      “You can call me Eve by the way,” she said blankly.       He raised a brow, “Oh yeah?”      Emilia nodded, “I guess we’re friends now.”      They both laughed, he cupped her hand in his and kissed it. Emilia blushed but couldn’t find the strength to pull her hand away.       “Planning this wedding really got to you didn’t it, Eve.” He smirked.       “Goodnight Bill,” she hissed. As she got into her car and closed the door, she could still hear the faint sound of his laughter. The last 48 hours had been horrifically eventful. Emilia needed at least twelve to herself to recover and then she remembered that Maria needed her help to plan their going away party.       “Fuck!” she cried, hitting the steering wheel.       More time with Billy. Great.      Her thoughts betrayed her. Maria told her the very same when Frank had proposed. They were a family now not just her and Frank, but Billy also. She was going to be seeing him a lot more and she needed to accept that quickly. As she lost herself in thought once more about the wedding and the week of planning to come, she could still feel the tickle of his beard on the back of her hand. Throwing her keys into the bowl by the door and making her way up to her bedroom, Emilia didn’t realize that she’d been caressing the spot the entire way up the stairs.       It was just so neither of you had to be alone tonight. That’s all it was. He’s practically your brother. It was nothing.      But the thought that kept her up that night disagreed. Billy wasn’t her brother, not in the slightest. The knot in her stomach growled like a wounded animal, she tossed and turned into an uneasy sleep. Billy’s touch being the last thing on her mind. 

[seraphiixa]

Send me drabble prompts. @jituri​ said: what about a drabble for the moment lyra said/realized she wanted to be a Marine?

     “Orion, pay attention!”  barked Lyra’s father, Atlas, scolding his eldest son. The Rear Admiral was an imposing older man, a rugged long-time Marine with two huge and uneven scars across the left side of his face. Four of his children were lined up in a neat row, standing at attention after a long day of training from sun up to sun down.

     Arranged from oldest to youngest in a height line, Orion, Asterios, Hektor, and tiny little Lyra stood expertly still and sported mean mugs, trying to appear as tough as possible for their father while he issued critiques and warned them of what was to come tomorrow. Their deathly serious expressions were ruined a tad by all the fresh bumps, bruises, and cuts from the day’s activities. Lyra was the youngest, the smallest, and with the meanest expression. At six years old, she was dwarfed by her burly and heavily-browed older brother, Orion, who was a full ten years older than her. Despite age difference across the siblings, all were expected to complete the same trials and evolutions set up by their father. Swimming, running, climbing, swordsmanship, wrestling and brawling --- Rear Admiral Atlas was dedicated to ensuring that his brood joined the Navy and that they were ready when they did. 

     Each child in the Calimeras family was expected to become a Marine. What else could they possibly be, with parents like theirs? This was all they knew, so it never seemed strange at all to them. You wake up, you train, you eat, you sleep --- and then you do it all over again the next day. It was especially important for Orion, now that he was only a year away from finally going off to the Navy. Lyra had plenty more time; she might be slower and weaker than her brothers now, but give her ten more years! She’ll beat the snot outta all of them!

     Rear Admiral Atlas finished reading his critiques and notes off of his clipboard and snapped to attention himself, shouting that they were dismissed. The children snapped to attention and saluted; when the salute was returned by their father, they were free to go. 

     Asterios, 14 years old and with a slighter frame than his brothers, adjusted his glasses and lightly pushed his older brother with his elbow. “Orion, better pay attention at muster next time. He’s going to pound you into the ground. You’re getting less disciplined as time goes on; you’ll be a shitty Marine.”

     Orion swiftly shoved him back, knocking Asterios clean off his feet and into a tree.  “Shut up. I’m going to beat his ass one day. Old man never even put on Vice Admiral. That’s why he’s such a hardass, you know. Tch... That’s all I want, to beat him. Well, that and kill pirates. The seas’ll tide red with blood when I’m running wild, I’ll tell you that. I’ll put more away than he ever did.”

     Lyra stuck close to Hektor, ten years old, the pair walking behind their older siblings. All four were headed to the river to splash the sweat off before going inside their house --- per their mother’s rules. Hektor attempted to offer sound advice as he pulled his shoes off at the riverside. “He’s going to hear you, bro... ... ... besides, it’s more than just killing pirates. Marines are supposed to protect people; shouldn’t it be the people you should focus on?”

     Orion raised an eyebrow, pulling his shirt over his head. “Nah... I’ll focus on the scummy pirates, thanks. Looking forward to seeing how far up the ranks you advance, focusing on people and not the mission.”

     Hektor continued, a big grin on his round face surrounded by white curls, “The people are the mission, man! You’ll see. ... I just wanna be a Marine already! It’s going to be such an adventure! I just want to do my part and have a good time!”

     Lyra chirped from beside her brother, “Yeah!” 

     Orion and Asterios both snickered at Lyra. Orion chose to start in on her,  “What are you even doing here? You’re not a boy and you’re not gonna be a man. Real Marines are men, and they’re going to laugh at you when you show up; the pirate scum, too. You’re gonna get picked apart by pirates. The Pirate King would use you as a tooth-pick, kid,” he said with an evil smirk, throwing a small rock at her with quite a bit more force than an older brother should --- which conked her on the forehead and knocked her into the water.

     Lyra immediately popped up out of the water as soon as she fell in, bleeding and furious and throwing a fish at her brother. “I want to be a Marine, too!”

     Asterios rolled his eyes, “You don’t even know the first thing about Marines, or---”

     “I’M GOING TO BE THE FLEET ADMIRAL!”  screamed Lyra, standing up out of the water with her fists to the sky, shutting up all her older brothers, and causing Hektor to giggle at his little sister’s audacity. She looked ridiculous making such a claim, a small girl soaking wet in all her clothes and blood running down her forehead, but Lyra didn’t know that. She felt ten feet tall whenever she bounced back from her brothers bullying her. She felt like an Admiral.

     “I’M GOING TO BE THE FLEET ADMIRAL! And when I’m the Fleet Admiral, you’re all going to have to salute me! And we’ll do the Navy MY way!”  she screamed. “The RIGHT way!”

     She held that pose for a few seconds longer, up until Orion picked up another rock out of the riverbed, giving a sneer and throwing it with more force at her, knocking her into the water again. He walked over to where his sister was, picking her up out of the water by her neck and looming over her as he growled into her face. “You’ll never be the Fleet Admiral. That’s stupid. They’d never pick a stupid little girl like you for the job,”  he said, pushing her back down into the water and holding her there. Lyra was holding her breath, but she still kicked and squirmed under the current of the river. “And if you do become a Marine, if you get in the way of my advancement to the top, I’ll kill you myself.”

     He let up on her and let go, walking away --- but he didn’t get far. Lyra popped up out of the water again, this time with TWO fish in her hands, and leaped roaring onto his back, beating the back of his head with the fish. Hektor doubled over laughing and Asterios fervently tried to pull Lyra off of Orion.

     Honestly... this was a regular afternoon in the Calimeras household.

[thedeviltohisangel]

How The Night Changes//5//Don’t Wish It Away

Olivia overhears something she shouldn’t have (or it’s Olivia’s birthday & Duncan spoils her)

Warnings: smut, mention of past eating disorder

thank you to @kellysimagines for the request!

my URL/duncanshepherd to catch up!

send any requests for these two my way!

“I’m still mad that you wouldn’t let me see you on your actual birthday,” Duncan muttered as he focused on stirring the minestrone soup he had bubbling on the stove.

“It’s the day after my birthday, that’s not too far away from the actual event. Besides, I had to be with my mom for the photo op, you know that.” Olivia walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to the spot between his shoulder blades. “Don’t be mad at me, Donut, I love you too much to handle it.” He turned around in her embrace.

“Could never be mad at you when you have that bow in your hair,” he chuckled before he kissed her. Olivia had shown up to his home with a pink silk ribbon holding her ponytail. It might’ve been the most adorable thing he had ever seen and it also might’ve been the sexiest.

She playfully hit his arm as she hummed against his lips, pulling away from him with a satisfying pop.

“Today is already going better than yesterday. You’re here and you’re making me this soup you’ve been hiding from me.” Duncan lived by himself and on the rare occasion he wasn’t busy with work and having something delivered, he liked to try out new recipes. This soup was one he had made over and over on cold DC nights and thought Olivia, queen of coziness, would enjoy it.

“Did your mom get you anything nice?” He knew it would be nothing compared to the pile of gifts he had in the back of his closet to give to her, wanting to spoil her like he knew she deserved, but he was asking to be polite.

“Actually, yes. She got me one of those Cartier bracelets everyone is walking around with. It was really sweet.” Olivia walked over to the wall of wine Duncan kept in his dining room and picked a bottle of Cabernet for their meal. He carried over two bowls and set them on the table, pulling out Olivia’s chair and motioning for her to take a seat.

“Why do you always pick my most expensive bottles?” he inquired as he poured some wine into her glass.

“So that way, the next girl you have in your life can’t enjoy them.”

“I don’t think there is going to be a next girl,” he whispered as he paused his movements.

“That’s the right answer,” she replied with a smirk as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip. He kissed the top of her head and went to take his seat across from her, raising his glass in a toast.

“To my love as she embarks on a new year and to our love as we take the journey together.” They tapped their glasses lightly, took a sip and then began to dig into their meals. “You know, I wish I could’ve taken you out for your birthday. Really show you the kind of romantic I can be.”

“This is all I need! You, warm bread and fuzzy socks. The soup is wonderful by the way. You said I’d like it and I love it.” He smiled as she reached for another piece of crusty bread that sat in the middle of table, happy to be enjoying a meal with a woman who actually ate for a change. His last fling had been with a girl who drank her calories.

“What’s your goal for this year?” Olivia had recently quit doing ballet professionally, an ankle injury not healing in the right way that would require in order for her to have been able to dance the same.

“You’ll think it’s funny and that I’m stupid if I tell you.”

“I could never think that, my love.” Duncan leaned over the table to grab her hand and place kisses in quick succession to her knuckles.

“I want to start teaching dance. A studio downtown has a spot open for toddler ballet. I haven’t asked my mom yet but I think I want to do it.”

“That sounds absolutely amazing,” Duncan replied.

“You’re the only person so far who hasn’t criticized me for quitting dance, you know.” He furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean? You got hurt and it wasn’t safe for you to dance again. What’s there to criticize?” Duncan had been there the night she’d injured herself on stage. If it wasn’t for the Secret Service keeping him from running backstage to check on, they would’ve been public by now.

“Apparently, it’s the only thing I’m good at. Without it I’m just another girl walking down the street with a nice handbag.” Her teeth scraped against her spoon as she angrily took another bit of food.

“Your mother and the White House PR team,” Duncan said with a sigh as it clicked within him. “Don’t listen to them. They suck at their jobs and are pointless. Children love you and you will be the best instructor they will ever have.”

“How do children feel about you?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. For as long as she had known Duncan, she couldn’t  remember ever seeing him around children.

“They’re like little elves that operate behind the scenes. I don’t really see them or interact with them,” he said, pouring himself another glass of wine.

“Do you like kids?” Duncan knew Olivia, he knew her very well, but not well enough to understand where this line of questioning was going.

“I don’t particularly like them but I don’t particularly hate them either.”

“Do you want kids?” And there it was. Olivia had decided that since Duncan and her openly expressed their love for one another, she could start asking him the tough questions.

“Don’t most women start with marriage first?”

“What’s the point in asking you to marry me if you don’t want kids?”

“First of all, I’m the one who is going to ask you. I’ve given a lot of thought to the proposal-”

“Duncan. Answer my question.” He couldn’t deflect by informing her he had thought about marrying her, no matter how many butterflies had just been released into her stomach.

“I’ll have kids if you want them.” It was an answer but it wasn’t really the answer she had been looking for. Olivia should have guessed he wasn’t the type of man to dream about being a father or raising a brood. Duncan had a singular focus and anything that could detract from that required a lot of thought and vetting before he allowed them in. Olivia had first kissed him when they were in the second grade and only now had he decided she could be welcome into his inner sanctum. “They’re just something I’ve never really thought of. I don’t have a biological clock that makes me think of things like that like you do.”

“I want kids. And I want like five of them,” she said. He grabbed her hand again and stroked his fingers over her knuckles.

“Then we’ll have five kids. More if we want more.”

“That sounds amazing.” Olivia wanted to have a little girl and raise her to always know she was more than good enough. Being who she was was exactly what she was supposed to be doing. She wanted to right all the wrongs she felt her mother had made towards her. “I’m happy we were able to settle that,” she said matter-of-factly before she returned to her meal.

“Why do you have such an effect on me? Why do you make me feel like I’m ready to stop working so hard and settle down with you? Move out of DC.”

“Because you love me. The deepest part of you knows it and wants you to stop fighting it.”

“Let’s go away. From the city. Let’s go back to South Carolina. Go to that farm where I caught you kissing Finn in the hay bales that one summer. I want to spend time with you in a place where you can’t see the Washington Monument.” She could see it now. Duncan in jeans. Her and her leather boots that she had brought with her to DC for sentimental reasons. She could smell it. The horses and the hay. The barbecue from the town center. And then there was a glimpse of the future, little feet laughing as they scurried across the wood floors. Duncan in a rocking chair with a bundle on blankets tucked against his chest. Olivia teaching a little girl how to braid her hair the way she liked. But she couldn’t have that. She had to stop dreaming about it.

“I’m afraid, Duncan, that if I leave I won’t ever want to come back. And until my mother is no longer in the White House...I’ll always have to come back.” His chest ached not just at the loss of his perfect vision for the two of them but of how meek she sounded when she told him it could never happen.

“One day, Olivia, you will no longer feel as though she owns you. I promise.”

Later that night he had her sitting by the fireplace as he grabbed her presents from his closet.

“Duncan! You look like Santa!” she laughed as he dragged a bag into the living room.

“This is nothing compared to what I have planned for Christmas.” She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t help herself from clapping like a child when he finally reached her with her haul.

“Is there an order you want me to open these in?” she asked as she began to pull them out and place them around her.

“Go in size order from biggest to smallest. The best gifts come in the smallest packages.”

“Besides your package?” she asked with a smirk as she opened the biggest one to reveal an embroidered blanket. “Oh, Duncan...this is beautiful!”

“You like it? I picked it up when I was in Spain last month. Made me think of you.”

“I love it.” She leaned over to kiss him, slipping her tongue between his lips with a moan.

“Baby, if you react like this to a blanket it then we might be here awhile by the time you get to the end.”

Olivia, begrudgingly, tried to not let herself be too overcome with emotion on each gift that she opened from Duncan. Among other things there was a silk kimono she had been eyeing for a while, plane tickets to Malibu for their anniversary that was coming up and a gold compact mirror with their initials engraved ever so tiny on the bottom.

Duncan snatched the last box from the floor before she could and held in his hands tightly. “It’s not...opulent like you may be expecting but it’s meaningful. I don’t want you to feel pressured by it I just thought...I should just let you open it.” She tore the paper carefully to reveal a square velvet box which, when she opened it, displayed a key.

“Is this to your apartment?” she asked shyly as she grasped it tightly in her hands.

“Yeah. I was just thinking how I want to see you more. See you all the time, actually.”

“I can’t fully move in with you, Duncan. Not yet at least. But I’ll be here every night that I can. I’ll start leaving my toothbrush here!”

“I just...I have this feeling that I’m meant to build a life with you, Olivia. This is the first step. I know I can be a dick sometimes or don’t always put work on the back burner but I want to. I want to never go on a first date again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she echoed back as she crawled into his lap. His hands settled on her waist naturally and she leaned into him for a kiss. His fingers wandered under the hem of her sweater and traced patterns over her soft skin. Their lips moved together lazily, nowhere to be and in no rush to find somewhere to go.

“Bed?” he whispered as her hands began to tug at his hair.

“No, want you know. Here.” She pulled the ribbon from her hair before connecting their lips once again, Duncan sliding his hands up her sides until her sweater was removed and tossed to the edge of the carpet. “Surprised you didn’t get me lingerie for my birthday,” she mused as they shifted so she was lying on her back. He looked up from where he had been sucking a hickey onto the swell of her breast.

“I knew I forgot something!” Her laugh quickly turned into a moan as his tongue leveled itself along the waistband of her leggings.

“Taste so good, you know that?” She lifted her hips obligingly as he shimmed her pants and lace thing down her legs, her own hand coming to tweak one her nipples as she watched his eyes devour her. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this,” he whispered. His hands pushed her thighs further apart and he placed gentle kisses to her soft skin. He started by kissing her clit like he would her forehead, a short and gentle peck, and her fingers came to stroke through his hair in encouragement.

His tongue came next. Mapping out her folds from memory, his eyes closed as he danced across her petal soft skin and lingered in the places that made her moan the loudest. Fingers followed. Circling the entrance to her. Making her soul tingle with anticipation of his increasing touch. When his first finger entered her, her thighs tried to clamp shut, her control weak over the pleasure that pulsed throughout her body in waves. “Impatient girls don’t get to come,” he chastised as his finger returned to circling her. He had to earn it inside of her.

“Sorry, Daddy. You’re making me feel so good,” she moaned as she tried to buck her hips up towards him, desperately seeking more. Always more. He groaned as the name slipped out of her mouth, slipping two fingers into her as a reward. Her chest lifted off the ground as she curled with his knuckles, her hips remaining in place as his hand kept her down. “Fuck, Duncan, right there.” He slowly and purposefully pumped his fingers in and out of her, the tip of his tongue tickling her pearly clit in unison.

“You gonna scream for me, baby?” he hummed, “Let everyone know what a slut you are for Daddy.”

“Fuck, yeah. Oh god, oh god,” she cried out as her toes curled and a third finger of his joined the effort in putting her over the edge. He put his hand underneath the small of her back, desperately trying to hold her against him so she could take all that he was giving her. “Don’t stop,” she whined as she felt the pressure building inside of her nearing its climax. Her mouth fell open but no noises came out as her orgasm crashed over her, her hands digging into his hair to hold him against her and he licked and touched her through it.

As she lay there panting, Duncan kissed up her body and offered his slick fingers for her to take into her mouth.

“You squirted, kitten. So proud of my good little girl,” he murmured as she wrapped her tongue around his fingers and sucked in the way she knew he liked.

“Want your cock, Daddy,” she whimpered as her hands tugged at his pants in frustration. He was already straining against the zipper, her mouth watering at the treasure held behind the denim.

“Where do you want it, kitten?”

“In my mouth.” She licked at his throat for emphasis and didn’t miss the way his hips stuttered forward when she did. Duncan straightened his upper body while he remained on his knees so she could undo his belt and pants and help him rid his body of them with glee. Olivia wasted no time in taking him into her mouth. She maintained eye contact with him as she licked the underside of his cock from bottom to top, returning to suck at the root of him in the way that made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“So good, baby,” he said breathlessly as he held her hand in his hand, “Want you to choke on it.” Happily, she took him until his soft tip hit the back of her throat, the sound she made almost having him cum on the spot. “Such a dirty slut, taking Daddy’s cock like this.” His hips thrusted forward rhythmically, her tongue flattened against him and looking up at him obediently as he used her to near his hand.

“Please come inside me, Daddy.” He nodded once in approval of her request, Olivia smiled as she lied back down and dropped her knees to either side. His hands landed on either side of her head as he lined himself up with her entrance. Duncan stuttered his hips forwards just enough that his tip tapped against her clit, fingers already curling into the carpet in anticipation. She did her best to keep her mewling at bay and to keep her hips from twitching forward because she knew if she misbehaved then she would not go any of what she was asking for.

Without warning, he finally settled himself inside of her and she sighed in contentment at the sense of completion that was now upon her. “Oh, Duncan,” she whimpered as he found the perfect rhythm and leaned down so their chests were flush against each other. He kissed her softly, the dominance replaced by an overwhelming softness for this moment in time.

“I love you so much, Olivia,” he sighed into her mouth, “Keep your eyes open. Want to come together.” It took all of her willpower to keep her eyes locked onto his when every thrust made her want to close them in concentration to reach her end.

Their moans picked up in unison as his hips got quicker and sloppier, the pleasure breaking his steel focus. Duncan hadn’t realized how much better sex was with someone you truly loved and he was happy that he had wanted until he meant Olivia to figure that out. She was his person. Always had been and always would be. “Mine, mime, mine,” he chanted with each thrust as they both reached the edge, Duncan holding her close against him as they fell over it together. For the rest of the lives, every plunge they hoped would be taken together.

Olivia awoke the next morning alone in bed. The smell of bacon and sound of something be whisked alerted her that Duncan was already up and preparing their breakfast. She stumbled out into his kitchen wrapped in her new kimono and approached him with bleary eyes that were squinting against the sunlight. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he mused as he paused flipping pancakes to greet her with a kiss.

“How long have you been up?” she asked with a yawn. Coffee had already been made, some bacon and pancakes were already on a platter and there was two place settings complete at his breakfast nook.

“An hour or so,” he said with a shrug as he scratched gently at the trail of hair that led to his boxers. “Thought it’d be nice for you to wake up to breakfast. Continue my pampering treatment of you.” Olivia bit into a piece of bacon, nearly burnt just the way she liked it, and moaned at how delicious it tasted as it landed in her empty stomach.

“How do you have any energy after last night?” she asked as she set about pouring them each a mug of coffee, almond milk creamer and sugar for her and a splash of half and half for Duncan.

“Sex with you reinvigorates me. Gives me more energy.” She laughed as he began to cheekily sway his hips as a way to illustrate the energy inside him.

“Well, you are good with your hips,” she mused. They about to lean in for another kiss when there was a knock at his door. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No. Which means it’s probably my mother. Hide in the bathroom.” Olivia didn’t have to be told twice, slipping quietly into the bathroom and locking the door so no one could open it and be surprised to see her in there.

She heard Duncan pad over to the door and clear his throat as though he was getting into character before opening it.

“Did I wake you?” It was the voice of Annette Shepherd and Olivia hit her head against her hand repeatedly. It was moments like these where she felt so utterly stupid for engaging in a secret relationship.

“Sorry. I had to throw a shirt on to get the door.”

“This is quite a bit of food for just you, Duncan,” she said with a questioning tone.

“Trying to use up some stuff in my fridge before it goes bad,” he answered as he moved to try and block the second coffee mug that sat on his counter.

“Ever since you were born, you’ve been difficult to understand.” He threw his hands up as if to say there was nothing he could do about that. “I came to talk to you about something important.” Annette pulled a folder from her bag and handed it to Duncan. With a furrowed brow he opened it and was greeted with a picture of Olivia on the first page.

“Olivia? What about her?”

“Keep reading.” She heard her name and pressed her ear closer to the door in the hopes of trying to hear whatever it was Annette was there to talk to him about.

“You want...you want to release that she spent time at Hope Canyon?” Olivia felt her heart plummet as the words came out of his mouth. There was no way the Shepherds should have been able to found out about her stint at a rehabilitation facility for eating disorders. It had been done under the most top secret of manners. She hadn’t even told Duncan about that part of her past and now his mother was telling him for her.

“Clare went through the deepest of troubles to keep this a secret from the world. One of the only times she seemed like a doting mother in my opinion. Clearly if it were to get out, it would hit her right where it hurt.” Clare had been ashamed that her daughter had used food as a way to control at least one aspect of her life. Ashamed that she had needed help and couldn’t find it within herself. It wasn’t that she was caring for Olivia and her privacy. It was that Clare Underwood cared about keeping her image of a strong woman, raising a strong woman, intact.

“You don’t think this is a little too far? Olivia has nothing to do with this.” Bile was rising in Duncan’s throat. If Olivia hadn’t broached the experience with him, even though she was not obligated to, meant that it wasn’t one she ever wanted to dredge up again.

“Don’t go soft on me, Duncan. In order to stand at the top of the mountain we have to knock some people off.” His mother stood up, apparently done with this conversation, and ran her hands up and down her sons arms. “I trust in your vision of our future, Duncan, and your ability to see that this is the right way to get there.” If only his mother knew that his vision for the future no longer involved her or his uncle standing with him at the top of the mountain. It was only him and Olivia.

He remained rooted in place until he heard the door shut to his apartment the roar of her car roll down the street. The folder felt like it weighed many tons as he held it in his hands. The weight of questions unasked and secrets unknown.

“She’s gone,” he called out. It was a few minutes before he heard the bathroom door actually open and Olivia step out. By the look on her face, the dried tears on her cheeks, he knew that she had heard most if not all of what had transpired between him and his mother. “You heard what she had to say?” Olivia nodded.

“I’m sorry you had to hear about it from her. I was going to tell you, Duncan, I promise.” He shook his head and step towards her.

“You aren’t obligated to tell me anything about your past, my love.”

“Are you going to publish it?” her voice was small as she asked. There was no way she would ever be able to look at him again if he weaponized the file his mother had given him. Love of her life be damned. Their future children be damned. Olivia had to put herself and her happiness and health first for her own sake. If that meant shedding herself of Duncan then so be it.

Duncan grabbed the file and walked over to the fireplace and threw it into the flames, watching it turn into ash.

“I’m not. No one is as long as I can stop it. You’re the other half of me. They can’t hurt you without hurting me.” Olivia smiled and walked towards him to step into his arms and squeeze him as tight as she could. “You and mean, Livvy. We’ll make it out of this city alive and together. I promise.” There was no one else either of them would rather stand at the top of the mountain with.

[captainkirkmccoy]

Two friends from childhood vow to always be friends, but they grow apart when one of them moves away. Fast forward couple decades where one is successful and the other has fallen on harsh times and is homeless. The successful one takes in their old best friend and falls in love, but doesn't act on it because it would be taking advantage of them. The homeless friend gets back onto their feet, moves out and after getting a job and places of their own, asks out their friend on a date.

"Always and forever, you promised." Jimmy Kirk whispered from his sleeping bag just feet away from Leo's. They were sleeping in a pop-up tent behind the farmhouse, close enough that they could run inside if something spooked them and far enough away that they couldn't quite see Leo's mom and dad peeking at them from the wide kitchen windows. "Yeah, but only if you let me go to sleep, brat." Leo grumbled, rolling over so that he can get a glimpse of the lively fire that was still blazing from their s'mores attempt earlier. They ended up eating more marshmallows and chocolate than an actual put together s'more but the fire was still comfortable and he knew his parents would make sure it was out completely before they went to bed. Jim sat up, face lit up by the fire and freckles standing out against an otherwise pale face. He got so white in the winter that Leo's mama fed him extra servings of everything. "You can't promise something in exchange for something else. That won't count."Leo sighed. Jim was four-years-younger and his best friend regardless. They had shuffled together out of boredom and desperation--Leo's mama volunteering to babysit Jim when Winona first came to Madison, Georgia, with nothing to her name except a five-year-old shadow named Sam and a wailing baby. The town gossip said that Winona's husband had died on the day baby James was born and that she had fled Iowa as fast and as far as she could go."I meant it, okay? You'll be my best friend always and forever, no matter what."That seemed to appeal Jim, who snuggled back into his sleeping bag and fell asleep minutes later. Leo tried not to think what always and forever looked like and if that was a promise he would keep--even if he already knew he would do everything and anything to try. ***Leo was starting to hate the townhouse he had bought the year of his big promotion to head of surgery at Atlanta General. It was draftier than it seemed, too big and took too long to make it look presentable for when his mother came over. She had a penchant for announcing a visit a day before she would arrive, about to drop a bomb that would upset his fragile staus quo for months after she went back to Madison, leaving him untethered in Atlanta. Two years ago, it was that she was selling the farmhouse and relocating to the new over 50 community (more luxury than comfort). Last year it was that she was remarrying--fifteen years after David McCoy had passed away and twelve after she started vehemently protesting (and unfriending) anyone who tried to set her up. Her new beau, as she called him, was named Christopher Pike and he had moved to Georgia from San Francisco, where he spent years before retirement teaching at some prepatory for rich service brats. Two days ago, she had called and annouced that her and Chris were coming for the weekend--she was desperate to see her son before their Christmas vacation to England and Scotland and had decided to stage a Christmas brunch, lunch and dinner into the three days she would be invading his home. It wasn't as if he didn't have any room, it was just that he had finally gotten used to the quiet that three oversized stories afforded and had enjoyed being a confirmed bachelor, no matter his mother's protestations that he find someone after the divorce. But five-years post-marriage had made him comfortable with living alone, no one to balk at his long nights at the hospital, no one to nag him about not spending enough time being together. ***He was prepared for his mother and Christopher Pike. He was not prepared for Jimmy Kirk. "Hey," Jim said, a tad sheepishly, ducking his head as Leo stared, open-mouthed at the new arrival at his front door. "Leo, you remember, Jim, right?" Eleanora McCoy unwrapped her rather long multicolored scarf and set it on a hook provided by a sturdy wooden hall tree. Chris Pike still kept every stitch of winter clothing on, as if he was ready to bolt the first moment of trouble. Leo, still lost for words, nodded. 

"Well, he's been staying with us for a bit and we couldn't leave him alone for Agnes Carlton and her harpies to devour him. And we knew you wouldn't mind--what with all the space you have! It'll be wonderful to catch up again, I'm sure."

Leo hadn't seen Jim in almost twenty-years. If his mama hadn't said something he wouldn't have believed that the scruffy, skinny guy in front of him was Jim Kirk--the same shit-stirring little brat that had been his best friend during childhood. Whenever he pictured Jim Kirk grown up, he pictured him somewhere cold--chopping wood in layers of flannel with a gorgeous wife and brood of equally adorable and raucous children. What he saw instead. despite the obvious gap in years and fact that he had indeed grew up, was an emaciated, rough looking kid. Unable to stop himself he shuffled forward and hugged him. The other man smelled of fresh air, salt and the lingering cologne that he knew Chris Pike wore, telling him that this jacket was a hand-me-down from the other man's closet. "Sorry," Jim whispered in his ear as they broke the hug but Leo was unsure of whatever the man could be sorry about. ***

"Before you start--" his mama said in the kitchen as she started unpacking vegetables from her trusty old farmer's market bag that must have been as old as Leo himself. "What were you thinking, mama? And did you hunt him down just to torture me?" He's sorting through the rest of her groceries with a purpose, desperate to let his hands do something as his mind races."He's homeless, Leo."The wrapped baguette that he was holding nearly drops to his hardwood floor. Before he can say anything else, Eleanora rushes on. "He contacted Chris," at Leo's confused look his mother said, "Old friend of the family, if you believe it or not. So he contacted Chris a few weeks ago about work. He came back to Georgia with nothing, Leo. And we haven't been able to find out what happened. God only knows where Winona is. bless her heart."

"And your solution is to leave him with me?"

"Well, I know you were close and you would still have been if --"If that bastard didn't insist on taking the Kirks away, left unsaid. The bastard being Winona's new husband, a brute of a man who everyone in town called "Gaston." He and Winona met at the factory that she worked at and he insisted on whisking the family away to greener pastures. Jim (like Leo) had been devastated. Madison was the only town he knew.  The McCoys had even volunteered to keep Jim for a bit, to finish out the end of the year of seventh grade but Gaston had charmed Winona into packing up the clapboard house they lived in and moving to California, where he insisted they could become something more. Last he heard, Gaston had been forced out of the house after leaving the Kirks in shambles. Sam had run away, Jim had done a brief stint in a juvenile detention center and Winona had buried herself in work (she was the best engineer Madison had ever seen and apparently that went for Mountain View too)."Jimmy just needs to get on his feet, Leo. Chris is going to get him a job at the community college as soon as we get back and see about signing him up for some classes. He's apparently a genius, did you know?" Eleanora's eyes twinkled with pride. ***

It took four days of awkward side-stepping for Jim and Leo to get to know each other again. Once they did, they fell into the same banter and inside-jokes that had dominated most of their adolescent and pre-teen conversations. It took two weeks for Leo, now dubbed Bones as soon as Jim learned he was an old sawbones like his dad, to fall in love with his best friend. Once it happened, it felt inevitable. He couldn't imagine a time when he wasn't in love with Jim.But damn if the timing wasn't right. Jim's face still held that gaunt look that months of living in homeless shelters and on the streets did to a guy. He eventually got out the story from Jim: he had a good job at startup in Palo Alto. But when he walked in on his boss "harassing" one of their young interns, Jim got into an "altercation" and was fired (Jim was as vague as possible, probably in part for having told the story too many times and the rest because the vague terms made it easier to deal with). Because it was a startup, Jim had been living in the co-op that most of the engineers had shared and with that he had nothing but his car and the few belongings a sympathetic co-worker got for him. He stayed around the area in the hopes that he could get the rest of his things and maybe someone else would report the asshole to the cops so that Jim could at least get a reference and move on. In the end, he sold his car and bought a one-way plane ticket to the last place he felt home: Madison. "I'll make this up to you," Jim said, one night, pinks flush with the whisky they had shared from the highball glasses Leo inherited from his father. "Nah. That's what best friends do, kid. Always and forever, remember?"

***

A week later, Jim was gone. His bed was tidy and a note lay on a pillow, ripped out from the pad of DR. DAVID MCCOY that Leo realized the brat must have had after all these years. Thanks. It read. For Everything. His mother called him. "We're back. Is Jim ready to come to Madison?  We can pick him up tomorrow."

Leo took a deep breath. "Jim's not here, Ma."

"What?" Her voice took on a shrill quality that she usually used when the dogs had accidents on her rugs. "What do you mean?" Her voice was far away and muffled as she said, "Chris! Leo says Jim's not there."

“He left.”

His mother let out a string of swear words that would have made Jim proud. “I’ll call you back, Leo. Chris is going to go looking.”

***

Months passed with Leo, Chris and Eleanora dividing their time between Atlanta, it’s suburbs, and Madison. They combed through every homeless shelter in the tri-state area, prowled the streets and alleys for Jim. 

With every passing dead end brought Leo back to those few years after Jim left the first time and his father getting sick. He felt the deep pull of despair and melancholy as winter gave way to spring and spring gave way to a fucking horribly warm Summer.

He spent most of his weekends at the soup kitchen with his mother’s husband, who he realized he liked more for the way he never gave up on Jim, calling in favors, flying back to San Francisco, exhausting lead after lead until Leo wasn’t sure who was more miserable: him or Chris. 

A year passed by the only way it could in this instance, slow and without much of anything to look forward to. Leo found himself talking to a real estate agent about selling the townhouse which was feeling less big and more like a prison without Jim in it. 

***

“Ma, I just want a quiet Christmas.” He insisted on the phone, as he shoved some garland and lights into the closet. His mother had shipped them over in the hopes that it would inspire some holiday spirit but Leo wanted nothing to do with anything holiday or cheer. 

He took the phone away from his ear to protect from her shrill response. His mother and her husband were staying home this Christmas and were insisting that he come back to Madison. He could think of nothing he’d rather do less. 

“Ma, Jesus Ma, hold on.”  He set the phone between his shoulder and cheek, hoping that the Chinese delivery was early and it wasn’t some carolers or something equally unpleasant. 

He swung the door open and dropped his phone. 

Jim Kirk, completely transformed from the last time he saw him, was standing at his front door. Jim Kirk who he had imagined showing up hundreds of times before, except real. 

“Hey Bones,” The completely transformed Jim Kirk said, a smirk lighting up his face with mischief and purpose. 

“Hey Jim.” Leo managed to get out, taking in his perfectly trimmed hair, the dark jacket that framed broad muscled shoulders, the healthy bright glean to his face. 

“I’m sorry about...well, everything.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Jim nodded, swallowing hard. “I am.”

“Good, though my mama and Chris might demand some explanations.”

Jim looked away, the same sheepish expression that he’d seen just a year ago playing on his face. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“Do you want to come in?”

Jim shook his head. “No, Bones.”

Leo couldn’t help but let his shoulders sink at that. He could hear his mother’s high voice from the floor, demanding to know if Leo was still there. 

“I want you to come out with me.”

“What?”

“You. Me. Like a date?”

Leo blinked. 

“I’m here to cash in on my promise, Bones.”

“Promise?” Leo’s voice was a rasp as his mouth got drier and drier by the second. 

“You know,” Jim’s grin widened. “Always and forever.”

[bleep-blop-lizard-hop]

Femslash February 2018 #1

Well here you go, my first entry for Femslash February of twentyGAYteen! Technically this was a last minute Christmas story idea that I had loooong after Christmas is over, but better late than never I guess. Enjoy!

@idemandaspinoff Especially written with you in mind, my friend =)

Jenny’s first Christmas in 13 Paternoster Row was significantly different compared to her previous experiences as a child.  Instead of being with her family in their small dingy tenement flat, she was now co-inhabiting a large luxurious townhouse with an ancient lizard  woman from the dawn of time. Ever since her parents threw her out into the streets after they discovered her “preferences in companionship”, Jenny had spent several Christmases desperately huddling inside a hovel to protect herself from the severe winter weather, while fighting hunger and disease. Fortunately, things eventually changed when a fateful series of events led to her being rescued from the squalor of homelessness by a Silurian called Madame Vastra, who begrudgingly hired Jenny to be her resident maid at the urgings of a strange man known as the Doctor. Jenny was utmost grateful to have a roof over her head once again, but it was difficult to adjust in the beginning due to the fact that her new reptilian housemate was the equivalent of a raging racist, towards humans at least, and would always treat her like an inferior animal. The Silurian had also loudly expressed her intense disdain regarding the human holiday of Christmas, which was the reason why Jenny had opted to celebrate it privately in her own room with a miniature Christmas tree, some tinsel, candles, and cookies that she bought from the local bakery. This year, however, it was the complete opposite as the rocky relationship between Jenny and Vastra gradually became smoother to the point where Vastra finally granted Jenny her permission to openly practice the traditions of Christmas. So with the entire house freely at her disposal, it was with great gusto that Jenny dedicated all of her time and energy to setting up the necessary decorations on Christmas Eve. Firstly, she erected a real genuine Norwegian Spruce tree in the middle of the sitting room before strewning it with abundant ornaments and tinsel. Secondly, she then got to work hanging intricately woven wreaths on the walls of the house, attaching stockings to the fireplace, and lining the whole length of the stairway banister with shiny glittering garland. Next, she went into the kitchen to mix batter from scratch for cookies, and popped them into the oven before heading off to another task. The last remaining thing on her list was to hang a piece of mistletoe at the very top of the living room doorway, which she was able to accomplish using a wooden ladder and a hammer. Jenny smiled triumphantly as she looked around at everything she did to successfully create a proper festive and joyous atmosphere in their usually drab home. Fully satisfied, Jenny then figured that she deserved  a reward and walked back into the kitchen for a glass of delicious, refreshing eggnog.

It was close to noon when Madame Vastra herself emerged from her bedroom, adorned in her typical attire consisting of a sumptuous dark purple taffeta gown with black lace trimmings that was well suited for a lady of her stature, and began to make her way downstairs to the ground floor.  Moving down along the stairway, the keen-eyed detective’s  attention soon got caught on the vast array of jubilant decorations that was displayed throughout the house; Bright tinsel, green wreaths, golden bells, red bows and holly, it was unlike anything that the culturally unaware Silurian had ever seen before. Truth be told, Vastra had no idea what to expect when she gave Jenny her consent to beautify the house for Christmas, but was nonetheless delightfully curious at what she found that morning. She was also greatly pleased by all the visual evidence of her young maid’s stellar work ethic, as she was most certain that Jenny had been awake since the crack of dawn to get everything in correct ready order. Vastra then reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to spot Jenny as she was leaving the kitchen, and immediately proceeded to approach her.

“I see that you’ve been awfully busy this morning, Miss Flint,” said Vastra genially, which was a marked improvement from her earlier hostility toward the human girl. “I must say that I’m rather impressed.”

Jenny was quick to greet her mistress with a warm smile, and replied, “Aye, and good morning to you, ma’am! I’ve already put the kettle on in the kitchen and tea should be ready any minute now.” Suddenly, for a brief moment, the girl’s cheerful demeanor faltered as she nervously bit her lip and fiddled with her fingers as if contemplating something. There was a note of reserved hopefulness in her tone when she said, “If you don’t mind me asking, ma’am…..what do you think of the Christmas tree I brought?”

Vastra merely responded by slightly tilting her head aside and raising a hairless eyeridge in puzzlement at her maid’s question, before following Jenny into the sitting room where the fully bedecked Christmas tree was standing in all its splendid glory.

After soaking in the dazzling sight, Vastra then turned to Jenny and regretfully spoke,“Hmm, well, I must admit that I really don’t have the first clue as to what dictates a proper, or improper Christmas tree.” The Silurian could see the acute desire for her validation clearly written on Jenny’s face, and decided to try her best anyway. “However, from what I can observe of it, this particular tree is of the ideal height, with proportional symmetry throughout its body, and possesses a faintly pleasant aroma of spruce. I will also add that you, Miss Flint, have a very keen eye when it comes to decorating and the strategic placement of ornaments for maximum aesthetic beauty,” concluded Vastra while giving Jenny a broad, indulgent smile.

“Thank you….I’m so glad you like it, ma’am,” proclaimed Jenny who was practically beaming with pure joy at receiving her mistress’s approval. She had prided her haggling abilities in order to get the tree for a good bargain at the market. “ This would’ve never happened if you didn’t allow me to…..I’ve missed this, Christmas and everything.”

A wistful expression flitted across Jenny’s face as she found herself reminiscing  about old memories of long gone Christmases from her distant childhood past. Jenny’s parents were deeply religious, god-fearing people who raised their brood of children with a strict and disciplinary hand. Christmas was the sole exception, however, as it was always the one time of year where her parents became more lenient and affectionate with their children in the spirit of the holidays.  Jenny and her siblings would spend an entire day crafting makeshift ornaments with various spare materials that they scavenged from around the house, which they then hung on the modest sized Christmas tree that their father would bring home. They also had to improvise by using their own dirty tattered socks as stockings, but it never failed to excite them when jumping out of bed on Christmas morning to discover that their socks had been stuffed with treats of tangerine and peppermint candy. Soon, the real fun began with the arrival of numerous different relatives who would come bearing gifts, food, and interesting stories. All packed tightly in the Flint’s small tenement apartment, Jenny’s family feasted and drank the night away while uniting their collective voices into loudly singing Christmas carols, with varying degrees of pitch quality. Although her family didn’t possess much wealth, it was Christmas that provided them with an opportunity to simply forget about their worries and celebrate the positive things in their lives. A painful aching sensation occured within Jenny’s heart as she remembered the simpler, happier times of her former life before losing everything that she knew and loved. It was too late to change the past, and the scars will remain forever permanent.

Expertly sensing her young maid’s somber mood, Vastra reached over to gently hold her hand and said, “Oh my dear girl, who am I to play the….”, the Silurian momentarily paused to search for the right term before continuing with, “.... Scrooge, and prevent you from celebrating your own sacred holiday? I will apologize for my misguided and prejudicial remarks about your human customs of Christmas in the past.” Vastra’s gaze never left Jenny with every word that she spoke, as she was genuinely remorseful and willing to make amends. “ I’ve learned the error of my ways, and only want you to be happy in your festivities.”

Visibly touched by her mistress’s kind words of reassurance, Jenny was able to produce a watery smile as she replied,“Thank you, ma’am, you have no idea how much this means to me! Let me go to the kitchen and pour you a cup of tea with breakfast, eh.”

Before Jenny could step foot outside the sitting room, Vastra commanded her stop after noticing something peculiar on the doorway.

“Not so fast, Miss Flint….,” exclaimed Vastra, who then moved forward and craned her neck to get a better view of the doorway. “That is mistletoe, if I’m not mistaken?”

Jenny’s eyes subsequently followed Vastra’s line of sight before she answered,“Umm….er, y-yes it is, ma’am.”

“Mmm, how very interesting…..the Doctor once told me about your people’s strange tradition of engaging in romantic physical contact under these mistletoe,” remarked a newly intrigued Vastra, whose curiosity prompted her to ask Jenny, “Why is that exactly?”

“I-I don't really know, ma’am, that’s just how things have always been done,” responded Jenny to the best of her ability, being not quite sure of it herself. Suddenly realizing what the presence of mistletoe entailed,  Jenny hastily scrambled to explain her mistake. “ I….God, that was bloody stupid of me to put that up there…..It’s not as if anybody in this house is going to walk underneath it….Except for us, you and me, I reckon,”acknowledged Jenny in a quiet tone, her mouth becoming surprisingly dry.

Confused by her maid’s strange behavior, Vastra tilted her head at an angle and inquired, “Miss Flint, are you trying to say that this rule doesn’t apply to two women standing under  the mistletoe?”

A part of Jenny knew that the liberally inclined Silurian would ask that question, coming from an exceptionally more tolerant and open-minded society that held none of the Victorian stigma against same-sex relationships. Ever since Jenny had confessed to Vastra about her “preferences in companionship”, the lizard woman would often express her frustration at how backwards and foolish the rest of humanity was to be offended by something as trivial as homosexual love. Although Vastra had already proven herself to be a trustworthy ally, homosexuality was still a highly sensitive subject that Jenny would prefer to avoid discussing with her employer.

“I...um...that...Aye, ma’am, it’s simply unheard of, I’m afraid,” Jenny haltingly uttered.

“Ah, I should have guessed! You primitive humans and your equally limited definition of love,”Vastra hissed indignantly before boldly declaring,  “Poppycock….I suppose that we have no choice, but to start our own tradition and tear down that wholly unnecessary gender barrier!”

“W-What?”

Jenny could hardly believe her ears at what her mistress was suggesting! Here was this ridiculously eccentric lizard woman, who had the absolute gall to demolish centuries of formally established societal conventions in the name of what….sexual equality? Furthermore, what really worried Jenny about this whole scenario, was the fact that Vastra had just basically implied the idea that the two of them should kiss under the mistletoe. Jenny hadn’t forget how much trouble that got her in, the last time she  did that with another girl; She had been forced to carry that heavy burden of shame and self-loathing everywhere she went, but she couldn’t stop her relentlessly unnatural attraction to the fairer sex of her species, no matter how hard she tried. Then Madame Vastra came along, and despite her shockingly alien appearance, Jenny had considered her to be extraordinarily beautiful. Indeed, Jenny could feel herself being inexplicably drawn to the mysterious Silurian from the very first moment that they met. The memory of a green, sword-wielding reptilian humanoid charging into an alleyway, and slicing through a gang of violent thugs to rescue Jenny was like something straight out of a fairytale. Jenny’s admiration for Vastra continued to grow with each passing day as she got to learn more about her elusive employer, being able to witness the strength, intelligence, and honesty of her character firsthand. Although Vastra eventually dispelled her anti-mammal prejudices to truly respect Jenny as a human, and accepted her queer identity as a “Tom”, the realist within Jenny was convinced that there was absolutely no chance of Vastra ever reciprocating the same feelings for her. However, now that she know Vastra wouldn’t be opposed to the prospect of kissing her, that caused a small yet precious sliver of hope to form in Jenny’s mind. On the other hand, Jenny was also certain that she wouldn’t be able to handle it if Vastra actually kissed her, and the mere thought of it was enough to make her face blush crimson with embarrassment.

Picking up on her maid’s apparent bewilderment, Vastra acquired a benevolent smile as she moved closer to Jenny’s side, and held onto both her hands.“I want to share this holiday with you, Miss Flint, and it would please me immensely if you could bestow a kiss upon me.,” clarified Vastra in a smoothly earnest tone.“It wouldn’t do us well to defy the bidding of the mistletoe, don’t you agree?”

The Silurian’s superior height enabled her to effectively crowd Jenny within the doorway, whose body  was becoming increasingly hot and bothered in her flustered state.

Realizing that she had been trapped between the advances of a lizard woman and a hard place, Jenny had no choice, but to comply with her mistress’s request. “Err, yes, of course….if you’re really sure about this, ma’am,”said Jenny, which earned her an affirmative nod from Vastra who then closed her eyes. Lavishing her parched lips with her tounge, it took Jenny several minutes to muster the courage that allowed her to lean over and plant a quick, chaste kiss onto Vastra’s scaly cheek.“There, was that good enough for you, ma'am?”

“It would seem that you’ve missed your mark, dear girl,”spoke Vastra cryptically with a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes.

“P-Pardon, ma’am?”

Vastra didn’t say a word, but gently raised her hand to the back of Jenny’s neck before suddenly pulling her into a sensuous kiss that could be described as a firm press of their lips. As soon as their mouths made contact, Jenny could’ve sworn  that the entire world had abruptly stopped rotating on its axis, along with her heart.The young girl herself was equally as frozen, a wide-eyed expression of pure shock on her face while her muddled brain struggled to register her reptilian mistress’s brazen action. In truth, Jenny had often dreamed about this exact situation during those especially restless nights where her longing for the Silurian would manifest into visual fantasies within her subconscious. They were supposed to only be hopeless fabrications of her imagination, and Jenny would’ve been a fool to label them as more than that. Never in a million years did Jenny expect that Vastra would make such a bold move towards her when she was just a human, seemingly unworthy of the proud Silurian’s attentions; Surely this didn’t mean anything other than a platonically enthusiastic gesture of goodwill for the Christmas holiday. The fog that clouded Jenny’s mind eventually disappeared within minutes, thus allowing her to actually feel how cool and smooth Vastra’s lips were against her own. The wet tip of Vastra’s forked tongue slipped out to briefly tease the entrance of Jenny’s mouth, which resulted in a pleasurable sensation of heat spreading across Jenny’s chest as her eyes fluttered shut, and she began to simply enjoy the moment for what it was. The two women remained in that blissfully intimate position for a little while longer, before Vastra withdrew her head and they became separated.

“That was a rather….enlightening experience,” Vastra surmised, sounding most delighted as she observed her young maid’s countenance. Wearing a charming grin, she then extended her hand to tuck a loose strand of dark hair behind Jenny’s ear, and lightly spoke, “This tradition of kissing under the mistletoe, I think I actually quite like it. We should certainly partake in it again next year, if it’s alright with you, Miss Flint?”

Still considerably lightheaded from the kiss, Jenny could only respond with a vigorous nod of her head, secretly craving to repeat the gratifying experiment with her mistress.

Pleased with that answer, Vastra’s eyes twinkled as she exclaimed,“Excellent! I’ll be looking most forward to that.”

That said, Vastra then exited the sitting room to embark in the direction of the kitchen, leaving a stunned and speechless Jenny standing there in her wake. Slowly, the girl brought up her hand to graze her fingers over her tingling lips, while the warmth of a fire continued to linger within her belly. Realization soon dawned upon her that celebrating Christmas with the lizard woman of Paternoster Row was going to involve one hell of a twist that she never saw coming…..not that she’s complaining, of course.