#the poor girl saying the make shift cardboard was the best home she ever had had me like 💔

[duoduotian]

ch. 369

[shes-an-oddbird]

Christmas at River’s End Mall

Summary -  A Christmas AU in which everyone navigates their seasonal jobs, relationships and Christmas spirit, or lack there of, through woven together tales inspired by holiday prompts.

Chapter 2 - Silver Bells

Fitz, a self proclaimed Grinch, finds a bright spot in his retail hell in the form of the new gift wrap girl who works across from him and always wears a silver bell.

Prompt - Silver Bell Relationship - FitzSimmons POV - Fitz  

It’s just seasonal work. Fitz tells himself as he explains the purpose of the air fryer to a little old lady.

It’s just to make the extra cash he needs for the flight home. He encourages himself as he listens to a customer tell him about why one home security system is better than another.

It’s not the customers’ fault that they’re all complete morons. Fitz reminds himself as he waves goodbye to the family he had just helped purchase a remote control car that their kid was probably going to drive off the roof of their house.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he understood this tech stuff, as the manger so eloquently put it, he’d have been fired the first day. But when you can fly the demo drones as well as he can and repair the ones that have dropped over the side of the balcony, they let perpetual grumpiness slide. Still, it went without saying that he was not built for retail work.

Not every customer was awful. A couple of times now he’d helped a father and daughter duo who asked about the drones. Though it wasn’t with the usually onslaught of questions that made him painfully roll his eyes. No the little girl, Hope, he thinks her father had called her, was brilliant and her dad was dead set on not buying her a piece of junk. Fitz was able to give his honest and expert opinion and the father promised to be back once he’d done some research of his own.

If all his customers were like them, he wouldn’t mind the job so much.

But they weren’t, they were pushy and obnoxious. Fitz longed for the quiet hours of the day, after the mall walkers and stay at home parents left and before school and work let out.

That was when he heard it the first time.

The slightest jingle of a silver bell.

Just across from the store’s prime corner lot location a gift-wrapping station had been set up. Equip with rolls upon rolls of paper in ever color and pattern imaginable and a workspace that made him envious. The gift station was new, the one located downstairs no longer sufficient for the mall’s growing number of customers. May, the mall’s event coordinator, who interviewed pretty much everyone who came in for seasonal work, was escorting a beautiful girl about his age to the kiosk. She was wearing a festive dark green sweater and hanging around her neck on a long blue ribbon is a bell.

With every move she makes the bell rings. She steps behind the table and May gives her an empty cardboard box to wrap. She does so with the biggest smile on her face. In just minutes she hands May a stunning gold package with a shimmering silver bow. May looks impressed, which is saying something. He still remembers his interview. Because he’d be demoing the electronics and interacting with the mall patrons May had wanted to meet him. She had praised his skills but called him out on his lack of Christmas spirit.

“If you’re going to be doing this job Fitz you’re going to have to find some Holiday joy.”

May hands the woman a smaller item to wrap this time. It kind of looks like a tool from where he is. This one gives the gift wrapper only a moments pause before she slices off a length of sparkling red paper and begins to carefully fold it all while the gadget sits aside. He watches, unsure her plan, until a perfect sized gift bag begins to take shape. With just a minimal amount of tape it stands and she is able to slide the gift inside. She flips the top closed, hits it with the stapler and strategically attaches a shiny white bow to cover the sliver of metal.

May is pleased. She gives the woman a handshake and leaves.

Still with a smile on her face and chiming at every turn the woman turns and admires her new work station. She than turns her eyes up and scans the stores around her, likely to see what she might spend her time wrapping. When she catches his eyes he flinches.

He shouldn’t have been watching her this whole time. It was probably creepy. But she doesn’t notice or hadn’t because she gives him a cheery wave before returning her attention to her work. It isn’t long before she had a customer.

And then many more.

Word of her skill spreads fast and soon has even less down time than himself.

She has many guests too. Daisy, a volunteer and May’s adopted daughter who makes trips around the mall ensuring that Christmas cheer was well spread, visited often. Clearly the pair was close as he typically heard laughter coming from the station. He had been joyfully reprimanded by Daisy on more than one occasion for frowning, although it was all in good nature. She’d do her best to make him smile and he’d stubbornly keep up his Grinch persona.

A persona that was getting harder and harder to keep up. He still didn’t know her name, to nervous to get close enough to read her name tag without feeling creepy, but whoever she was, she was always in a good mood and it was annoyingly infectious.

That damn bell around her neck. She wore it every day and the noise should have driven him crazy like the Christmas music did but instead he looked forward to it. Now when the quiet of midafternoon rolled around it was an oddly pleasant reminder that he wasn’t the only one stuck in retail Christmas hell and something about that put him in a good mood.

“Look at you, Daisy been on your case today Mate?”

“What are you talkin about?” He asks around a bite of his lunch.

Hunter scoffs in disbelief. “That dumb grin that's been on your face since we went on break.”

“Its nothing."

He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious. Just earlier he’d had potentially the worst customer of the season. A woman who couldn’t understand why the price of the smart home system she wanted wasn’t the same as the price in their advertisement. When he tried to explain to her that that was a basic model and the one she selected was upgraded she whined that they looked exactly the same. At that point he had called over a manager who informed her it was a software upgrade and it wouldn’t look any different.

Still unsatisfied, she complained that for the price it should have all the features and stormed out.

The manager had applauded his ability to keep his cool and immediately let him go back to demos. As he was setting up one of his favorite drones when he caught sight of the gift wrapping girl looking at him. She smiled at him sympathetically before looking in the direction that the woman had stomped off in and then turned back to him making a fake gagging expression.

She understood.

“Nothing is awfully pretty, mate." Hunter says, pulling him back to the present.

“What?”

“The elf that’s working at the gift wrap kiosk.”

“How do you – “

“Bobbi can see you from the coffee shop.”

Of course she can.

“I don’t even know her, she waves hello to me in the morning that’s it.”

“Well I have a thought to remedy that.” Fitz was starting to regret taking his break with Hunter.

“And what's that?”

“Why don’t you just go talk to her?”

Fitz immediately shakes his head. “I can’t, she’s the embodiment of Christmas spirit and I’m – “

“The Grinch.”

Fitz frowns at him.

“Why don’t you take something over there to get it gift wrapped, it’ll give you an excuse to talk to her.”

“I haven’t got anything to have wrapped.”

“You’ve been pulling double shifts and don't have anything to show for it?”

“You know I’m trying to get home to see my mum.” If that meant his friends didn't get any gifts this year they'd just have to deal with it.

“Whatever, if you don’t talk to her by the end of the week, you’re taking my gifts over there and having them wrapped.”

Not its his turn to scoff. “What gifts, you blew all your money on the exhibition ticket.” Fitz won’t admit to being jealous that Hunter had a ticket to the football match. It wasn’t till the spring but their teams weren’t exactly stateside often so the tickets went fast.

“Don’t be bitter, I’ve got a buddy who can still hook you up with a decent seat.”

“Don’t you have to get back to your tree lot.”

***

“Fitz," he jumps at the manager's shout, "I need you flying the camera drone.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ve got stock, now get on it please, show it off, do some of that trick flying.”

Fitz rolls his eyes and sets up the camera drone for demo. Its not his favorite. The flight controls are temperamental and the camera was fuzzy, but they were cheap and on the top of every gift guide so they had about a hundred of them in the back. Even with the poor controls he does manage to pull a crowd. Saturday meant there were kids and they were dragging their parents over wide eyed and ready to beg. Amongst the crowd he spots Hope and her father. He presses a button that syncs the drone to the big screen they have mounted just inside the store's entrance and hovers the drone in front of them. They wave at the screen and Hope beams when she catches herself on the TV.

His manager was ecstatic.

He does an impressive spin with the drone, flying it over the balcony and up towards the third floor. There is a round of applause and the distant sound of a bell. He glances over at the gift wrap kiosk and to his shock he sees her clapping as well. She gives him a little wave and he quickly waves back, the drone dips drastically, sending the crowd scattering as it veers towards them.

“SORRY!”

He swoops it back upwards, hovering it well above the patrons heads as he apologizes to them and they disperse. He looks back at the controls, preparing to land it and check it over for damage when he catches a glimpse of something on the camera screen. The drone had been hovering over the gift wrap station, the camera angled towards the girl whose holding up a scrape of gift wrap with words scrawled across it.

Nice flying.

He looks up to find her smiling back. Suddenly he’s thankful for the kitschy features of the cheap drones. He quickly brings up the keyboard and sends a message to the drone.

Thanks.

She holds up the scrap of paper, more words added to the bottom.

What’s your name?

Fitz types back quickly. This wasn’t exactly how he thought meeting her would go but he wasn’t complaining.

Fitz. What’s yours?

Jemma.

[wordlessbabbling]

Gun Metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 23

Hypocrisy isn’t pretty

Masterlist

You drink a little too much

And try a little too hard.

And you go home

To a cold bed and think,

That was fine.

And your life

Is a long line of fine.

The new found friendship between Dorothy Monroe and Thomas Shelby had the whole of Small Heath talking.

Two parties, unanimously known, polar opposites.

People couldn't wrap their heads around it.

Some looked at Dorothy with a disapproving glare. It's not because they were jealous of her, but rather that she even gave the time of day to Thomas.

She spent most of her days preaching kindness and never tolerating the evil.

And understandably, people didn't see Thomas Shelby as an exactly nice man.

"Hypocrisy isn't pretty." They'd snarl.

To which Dorothy'd probably answer, "we all break our rules for someone."

Her answer wouldn't justify her actions, but maybe she just didn't care.

Maybe some thought she was trying to change and tame him.

Those who admired Thomas hated her for that. Those who hated Thomas thought it impossible.

Some, mostly the more romantic young girls, liked the pair. They thought about the romance novels they read and saw the same kind of pairings walking the streets.

Many who visited and talked with Dorothy on days she worked at the counter in her bakery, all loved her and thought her the sweetest girl to ever be.

Some thought that Thomas would taint her.

Those who liked her worried for her.

Those who didn't bid her good riddance.

Despite all the speculation, their friendship was nothing like the public suspected.

Thomas was at his best when he was with her. He was a Thomas even he himself forgot about.

Dorothy was accepting of who her best friend was. She had no desire to change anything about him. She took him the way he was.

——

It was a Tuesday and Dorothy was at the counter talking with a customer who came in regularly.

Mrs. Gold-wing, the customer, usually came in to complain about her sons choice of wife or her husbands drinking habits; but this time, she ventured in with a goal in mind.

She was one of the many who were concerned for Dorothy's well-being as she spent time with the very dangerous Shelby man. She trotted in with the hopes that by the time the conversation was over, Dorothy would be fully convinced that she wanted nothing to do with Thomas Shelby.

Mrs. Gold-wing was very naïve.

Mrs. Gold-wing entered the shop and quite loudly announced her presence while at the same time motioning Dorothy to come chat with her.

It's not like she didn't like Mrs. Gold-wing, It's just that she had work to do and these chats were never short.

Dorothy ambled over, "Morning, Mrs. Gold-wing!" She politely smiled.

"Hello love, take a seat." Mrs. Gold-wing adjusted her purse in her lap, "I need to speak with you about your new acquaintance, Shelby, isn't it?"

Dorothy internally groaned. Straight to the point, but she really didn't want to have this conversation.

"What about him?"

"I'm just concerned dear. He's a dangerous man to be around and I'm worried you'll get hurt. Being with him can't possibly be good for your health." Mrs. Gold-wing tried to be tactful.

"I can assure you, Mrs. Gold-wing, I am certainly not 'with' him. He's a good friend of mine, so don't you worry." She patted Mrs. Gold-wings hand that was resting on the table, trying to finish the conversation as her lunch break was soon and she just wanted Bubs to get there quicker.

"But that doesn't make a difference! I cannot allow you to go running around with a man like that! He'll hurt you, dear! What would your poor mother say? Does she know?"

Mrs. Gold-wing was putting a toe over the line and Dorothy was getting rather sick of it. She didn't appreciate people talking about her situation like they knew her.

"Now don't you worry about my friends and mother. I'll be alright, we're good friends, he treats me very well." She shifted slightly in her seat, trying to stay composed, "Now, what loaf would you like to take this week? I must say, Ms. P did very well this week."

"Miss. Dotty-Anne, I'd very much appreciate it is you sat down! You cannot be near that man! He's so very dangerous and is no good for kind soul like you!" Mrs. Gold-wing slammed her purse on the table which the other customers did not take very kindly to.

"We all have stories we never tell, Mrs. Gold-wing. He has his own and judging him for what you don't know and cannot prove is not fair to him or me. With all due respect." Dorothy added on at the end like it was an after thought.

"Miss. Dotty-Anne, I have half the mind to go find your mother and tell her of you gallivanting with Thomas Shelby! It's hardly appropriate for someone like you, to be seen with someone-."

"Someone like me?" A new voice entered the conversation, "someone like me, Mrs. Gold-wing? That's very derogatory, don't you think? I don't appreciate being spoken about like that."

Thomas had seemingly appeared from nowhere, leaving Dorothy's heart to leap out of her chest, from fright or happiness, she didn't know.

Mrs. Gold-wing also didn't take to kindly to the newcomer in their conversation. She pursed her lips and took a trembling hand to her purse.

Thomas continued, "I don't think it's very kind to go talking about other people's mothers like that. It's not kind to pretend to know someone, y'know?"

"That's what I wanted to say!" Dorothy's internal monologue screamed. She coughed into her hand, trying to conceal a laugh.

Mrs. Gold-wing didn't say anything as she stood up with shaking legs and manoeuvred around Thomas who stayed stock-still where he stood, watching her scuttle out of the door.

"I've never been so happy to see you, Bubs." Dorothy put a hand on her heart and sighed deeply.

"Really? I woulda' thought you'd always been the happiest what when that one time I stuck a gun to your head?" Thomas smirked slightly, offering a hand for Dorothy to take to pull her up.

She took the hand and with a swift motion, Thomas pulled her up into a welcoming hug. Assuming his normal position of resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"Shuddup" she mumbled into his chest.

Dorothy pulled back after a moment, and leaned back to look up at him, "let's get out of here, eh Bubs? I need a break from all this."

Thomas offered just arm and the two walked on.

Thomas kept his promise of trying at least one food from every shop, down in the food quarter. Today, they were having cheese toasties. Thomas was never crazy about them, but he ate them nonetheless.

As the two made their way back to the crate-filled alley, they talked quietly among themselves.

Thomas noticed Dorothy smelling the air and her eyes darted to the cardboard box that held the cheese toastie. Thomas only smirked a little and moved it slightly away from her hands which were twitching slightly. He could have sworn that he heard a small whine come from her as he adjusted the position of the steaming box of cheesy deliciousness.

They were midway through their conversation when Dorothy gasped and let go of a Thomas' arm. She crouched down and opened her arms wide. Thomas stared at her for a moment, his brain trying to catch up with the present, but he was surely interrupted by a small "oomph" coming from Dorothy as she was knocked back a little.

Thomas instinctively jutted out his knee which he stabled her against. Thomas looked down at the little bundle Dorothy held in her arms, whatever it was, it was crying, a lot, and very loudly.

"Sh, sh, shhh. Calm down Theo. Sh, sh, sh. What's wrong love?" She held the crying child close to her chest. When the child seemed to calm down a bit, she pulled him back so she could get a look at his face, trying to see if she could magically tell what's wrong.

"It's Tilda!" The boy cried out.

By now, there was a small crowd forming as people watched the scene. Thomas too, watched on. Unsure what to do.

Those words alone seemed to be enough for Dorothy to take Theo's hand, "where's Tilda? Take me to her."

She held her hand up a bit, as a silent plea for Thomas to help her up because she had no way of getting up with the slightest grace if she pushed off his knee.

Without a moment to spare, Theo spurred off and Thomas found himself following.

They shortly arrived at a cramped, narrow and dirty walkway that was seemingly abandoned.

Though as the group got further in, the two adults heard whispering and hushed chatter.

Soon they came across a huddle of the five kids but one was missing and that scared Dorothy the most.

Dorothy observed the scene and they saw Matilda on the ground with Charlie hunched over her, his hand on her forehead.

Leah stood to the side, shifting from foot to foot. Leah and Theo were the most tightly knit in the group, they spent a year together roaming the streets before they found Matilda and Charlie separately. Leah was seven and Theo and was eight.

Immediately, Dorothy sprang into action.

"Right. Leah and Theo, I need you to take these," she rifled through her dress pocket and pulled out a few coins, "go and find Mr. Whites corner shop bakery. Not mine though. Look around the stall and find a loaf of bread that has mould on it. He always has them at the front of the stall."

The two scuttled off down the walkway, nudging past her.

Dorothy turned to Thomas, "You and Charlie need to go find me a towel and a bowl of cold water. Ms. P always has a basin in the back."

Dorothy turned back to Matilda, and Thomas saw that as his cue to leave. Charlie was already darting ahead of him.

Dorothy wiped Matilda's forehead with her sleeve as it had a sheen of sweat covering it.

Dorothy took off her coat and wrapped it around the shaking girl.

The winter was harsh here, Dorothy didn't have a good, thick winter coat but it was the best she could provide.

The girl was shaking and was semi conscious. Dorothy figured that it was at first a cold which has probably now turned into flu.

"Ok. You're going to be alright Tilda. I'll sort you out." Dorothy nodded to her, trying to keep her emotions at bay.

"Where's Tammy, Tilda?" Dorothy looked around a bit, trying not to sound too panicked.

Matilda croaked our, "in her box, we wrapped her up. But-." She coughed a bit, "-but we decided it was good to keep 'er 'way from me. Don' want her ill."

Dorothy nodded as she looked to the side trying to find the box, but in the end resolved to looking for it later.

Before she knew it, Thomas and Charlie were back with a bowl of cold water, a towel and a glass. She forgot to get a glass, good thinking on Thomas' behalf probably.

Without a word she took the bowl of water, she soaked the towel and laid it on Matilda's forehead. It was times like these, that she was very glad she read those med books she was given.

Next came the mouldy bread. It was only a speculation that she'd read about a few times in books, but apparently mouldy bread worked as a medicine of sorts to combat illness.

The paper was very interesting, it was by a very young man called Alexander Flemming; she'd heard it worked a few times, but she'd never done it herself.

"Okay Tilda, I'm going to sit you up, and I'm going to need you to eat this. It may not taste that nice, but it'll help, I promise." She shifted herself so Matilda's shoulders were resting on her thigh, she also supported her head within the crook of her elbow.

"What are you doing Bonny? We can't give her that!" Thomas, for the first time spoke I up.

She glared up at him, "just trust me, Bubs."

Soon enough, Matilda had eaten two pieces of the bread. The children now sat around Matilda, not getting too close, but just observing her. Every five minutes, Dorothy would re-soak the towel on Tilda's head, muttering softly as she stroked the girls sweat drenched hair. The girl of whom was now deep asleep.

Thomas stood off to the side feeling utterly useless. He didn't know how to deal with these kinds of illnesses. Sure, he could stitch up a bullet would, but he hadn't a clue on how to deal with colds or flu.

It was now late afternoon, no one had moved a muscle and soon enough, Tammy had woken up and had started to cry.

Theo ran off to get the crying child. He brought her back, forgetting the situation slightly as he tried to calm the baby.

"Theo, sweetheart, make sure the baby stays over there, we can't risk Tammy getting sick."

For the first time that day, Thomas thought he could try and make himself useful, he wandered over to the boy with the crying child in his arms, "c'mon, give her here." Thomas gestured for the baby, and took the girl in his warm embrace, "sh, sh. C'mon now. Shh." The girl stopped crying as Thomas bounced her lightly in his arms.

A realisation came over Dorothy, "okay, we've got to get you guys some food.

"We couldn't get any coin today cause we was looking after Tilda, all we've got is one last bun." Leah sounded distressed, of course.

Dorothy was silent for a moment, she didn't have any money left, she was unsure of what to do. Thomas moved to another crate, he shifted the baby so he was only holding her in one arm, he shuffled to the cardboard box on the crate and gave it to Leah.

"Ah! Good thinking, Bubs. Glad we got a large slice! There should be four slices in there." The toastie was most definitely cold by now, but it didn't seem like the children cared.

She gave the bun to Tilda who had momentarily woken up.

But then a bigger problem occurred when Tammy started crying. She was hungry.

"Okay. Uhm. There's milk in the bakery. The key is in the usual place."Dorothy waved her hand, trying to stay calm for the children's sake.

Thomas took that as his command to get going.

"Charlie, mind helping me? I'll need help getting in." Thomas gestured with his head to the side, trying to keep the baby comfortable as it cried in random spouts.

—— (can't stop, won't stop.)

So that's how Thomas found himself wandering the streets of Small Heath with a crying baby and a boy, trying his best to keep up.

After the two had tried to be discrete about breaking in to the bakery Thomas gave what he hoped were correct directions to the glasses and milk in the larder.

He sat down in one of the chairs in the main part of the bakery and kept bouncing the baby every now and again, trying to calm it down the best he could.

Soon enough, Charlie came back with a with warm milk in a glass. Thomas took the glass and surveyed the best way of doing the job. He'd seen Bonny do it several times now, but he wasn't really sure.

He tried his best, but after a while, he just couldn't get the technique.

"I could give it a try, if you want?" Charlie offered. Thomas sighed and figured the boy had more experience with babies, which was rather sad, than he did.

Charlie got it first time and soon enough the baby was right as rain again.

Thomas sighed and put his head in his hands. He didn't expect that this was how his day was going to go. His family's hopefully used to his weird disappearances by now, but he was never  sure.

"You're a lot better with that baby, than I am." Thomas chuckled dryly.

Charlie only shrugged, "I don't know about that. Just practice innit?"

"You usually talking care of 'er?"

Charlie sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, "Tilda's usually better with 'er than I am. Did 'ave a younger baby brother a few years ago though."

"Oh yeah? I've got two younger brothers myself. One's a twat and the other is the same age as you." Thomas thought about Finn and thought maybe him and Charlie would be friends.

"What about your brother, where's he now?" Thomas didn't know why he asked or why he cared.

"Dead." Why'd he ask? "Died when 'e was only one 'n a half. I tried my best to look after 'im, but after a few months out here, I woke up one morning to him stone cold." Charlie was stoic. Not shedding a tear of anything.

Time did that to people when they'd gone through trauma. If you repeat a feat multiple times, you become numb to the feeling. It's just how human emotions work. Thomas understood the numbness that came with this sort of thing.

He nodded, "'am sorry to hear about that. My mum died when I was small. I understand what it's like to loose someone you're close to." Thomas had no clue why he was opening up to this person, a CHILD no less.

Thomas assumed it was Dorothy's influence. She made him soft. Thomas found himself looking at Charlie like a brother now. He'd spent a long while with the boy on Saturday evenings when the children visited and he'd grown fond of him.

He saw Charlie as someone who got it. Someone who grew up too fast. Someone who saw pain all too early.

Charlie got it. He got it better than his brothers. Better than his Aunt Polly.

The two carried on talking for a little while longer, just bonding and joking with boyish grins on their faces

Thomas checked his pocket watch, "aye, we better head back. Make sure they're all still okay. I can't have Bonny stressing more."

The two walked back in silence as Thomas took the baby in his arms again.

"So do you and Miss. Dotty-Anne live together or somthin'? I figured you two weren't married cause she didn' 'ave a ring." Charlie stared up curiously.

Thomas' eyes widened slightly, "uh no. We don't live together or none of that. We're just good friends, that's all." Thomas unintentionally sounded saddened which made Charlie crack a smile.

"Ah, but you want to be more?" Charlie smiles cheekily.

"Oi. Don't go poking your nose where it don't belong." Thomas barked a bit.

Charlie held up his hands in mock surrender, sniggering to himself a bit but he dropped the subject.

The moment that the two males had shared was cut short by a frantic Leah coming screeching to a halt in front of them, "it's Tilda! She's shaking! She's shaking real bad!"

——

>:D cliff hangers!!!!

Thanks for the love.

Feedback and comments are wanted.

See ya next time!

[marleysrambles]

How have you bean? (A coffee shop AU)

So I have decided to write a bunch of coffee shop aus for this month, enjoy some Adrienette fluff!

It was a Tuesday, about 2:30 in the afternoon, which meant that there were few people sitting in The Unlucky Cat Cafe. 

Marinette sighed as she wiped down the counter. God she just wanted her shift to be over. She and her best friend from high school had met up for their monthly night out the night before, and she just wanted to go home and sleep. 

Or at the very least have some customers other than the usual mom and kids in here to grab a quick snack before heading out again and the occasional student looking for a nice place to study or just chill out. 

Marinette felt pity for those poor, poor students. While college had not been as stressful as high school had, she wasn’t juggling class president, designing, and studying, finals still haunted her dreams. College had also given her so many new opportunities to meet people and now she was doing what she loved. 

Well, what she loved doing was not making over priced coffees and wiping down tables wrecked by sticky little kids, but surprisingly enough, she had to pick up another job to help pay rent. The only other option was to go back and live with her parents, and while she loved them more than anything, they could be a little...invasive.

Marinette looked up at the slight jingle of the door opening. 

Putting on her best customer service smile, Marinette stuffed the rag under the counter and called out, in what Alya called her ‘dead inside voice’, “Hi there! Welcome to the Unlucky Cat, how can I help you?”

The person shook the rain droplets off of their coat and wiped their feet on the little mat just inside the door, something Marinette always appreciated considering she also had to mop up anything that was tracked inside. She decided she automatically liked this person based on their manners alone. 

As he (or at least she thought they identified in that way) approached the counter, Marinette saw his face and decided that he was one of the most attractive people she had ever seen. Tall and slender with slightly tousled hair pushed out of his face, revealing sparkling green eyes. The face underneath the blond mop was almost familiar, but she pushed that feeling away as she greeted her new customer and took their order.

He returned her smile with a somewhat tired smile of his own and quietly ordered a Chai tea latte. It was when Marinette asked the cute patron his name, to which he responded, “Adrien.” That she felt an all to familiar flutter in her chest as everything clicked in her racing mind.

She managed to make it through him paying and watched as he sat down at a nearby table before ducking under the counter to try and get herself under control. She had been in love with Adrien Agreste for the better part of high school, and he just so happened to walk into the coffee shop she worked in, while she had a shift? Fate was very cruel indeed. 

Marinette gave herself a few moments to breathe before she started to make the drink. Old crushes walking into your place of work was no excuse to be unprofessional. A Chai tea latte wasn’t hard to make and soon enough she was done and ready to call out his name and be done with whole thing. Just a brush of fate, but honestly she would rather forget the cringe fest that was high school for her. Or at least when it came to Adrien at least. 

She did almost write something on the hot sleeve, maybe a hi or even her number, but lost the courage just as she put the sharpie on the cardboard. Shaking those types of thoughts from her head, Marinette instead scribbled out a “Thank You!” and shoved the cup into it. Her shift was so close to being done, she just had to finish this drink and she could go home, curl up with some well deserved ice cream and watch a stupid romcom.

“Adrien,” Marinette called out setting the cup on the pickup counter and giving him a quick smile before turning and making herself look busy with something else. 

“Thank you,” Adrien said as he grabbed his cup and Marinette nodded in acknowledgment as she fiddled with some cups.

She had thought he would leave as soon as he got his drink, choosing to drink it as he walked but instead, he sat there, reading a book. Of course he would decide to just sit and sip his drink quietly while Marinette was dying inside. It wasn’t like she disliked Adrien, in fact, he seemed just as sweet as he was in school, but she looked like trash, and while she had gotten over the adorable blond, something in her still didn’t want him to see her like that.

Three finally rolled around and Adrien was still there, but Marinette couldn’t care less as her shift was done and she was going to get out of there. Waving a goodbye to the girl she was working the shift with, she hurried to the door and threw her coat on before going out the door only to halt under the awning at the down pour just beyond.

When had it started raining? Maybe she hadn’t noticed, being too caught up with Adrien and all. Of course she hadn’t thought to bring her umbrella, even when the forecast had said possible rain that afternoon. Cursing, she had just decided to run with her bag above her head when the sound of an umbrella being opened came from behind her and one appeared above her head.

In a scene all too familiar to turn and see none other than Adrien Agreste standing there, holding out an umbrella. Marinette was taken back to that time in front of the school so many years ago and felt the same blush creep over her cheeks as she looked at the guy in front of her.

The guy in question smiled, “It’s been a while, Marinette.”

Marinette could feel the blush creeping over her face as a bit of that old nervousness she felt whenever Adrien was around caused her stomach to flutter slightly. She quickly shoved that feeling deep, deep down. She was over Adrien, this wasn’t high school. Her voice hadn’t realized this apparently, as she couldn’t keep the slight stutter from her voice.

“H-hi Adrien, yeah, it has.” 

Adrien glanced up at the umbrella and stepped closer so it was covering both of them, “I seem to remember this happening before, freshmen year right?”

Marinette’s blush deepened at how close he was and studied her sneakers. 

“Yeah I-i think so, gosh that was such a long time ago.” 

Marinettte looked up at him from her shoes and nearly squeaked at the fond expression he wore as he stared at her. 

“You cut your hair,” he remarked simply, and Marinette’s hand flew up subconsciously to fiddle with her pixiecut, a more recent change in her appearance. Gone were the pigtails and ribbons replaced by a style almost similar to her mother’s, held back by clips to keep it out of her face. She had done it shortly after college and had continued to cut it short since then.

She smiled at Adrien and nodded her head towards his own hair, “I see you let yours grow out.”

Adrien reached up and ran a hand through his blond hair that hung just above his shoulders. On anyone else it might have looked messy, but on Adrien it was cute with a little braid going through it. 

He asked her if she was still designing and she asked if he was still modeling and soon enough they were walking and catching up. Marinette hadn’t even realized they’d reached the door to her apartment until they stopped and Adrien smiled before saying his goodbyes. 

“It was so nice to see you,” He seemed almost sad but maybe that was her imagination, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, maybe.” 

As Adrien started to walk away and Marinette turned to unlock her door, something seized her. Call it fate nudging her in the right direction, or even just her younger self, refusing to let go of feelings she still had. Whatever it was, she turned again and yelled after the blond.

“Adrien, wait!”

He stopped and turned, surprise on his face as he walked back over to her.

“Come in for a cup of coffee?”     

[morewritingforourcharacters]

Expensive brown leather loafers beat against the rain soaked pavement as Pierre ran down the city streets with a small box tucked tenderly under his arm. His eyes were full of purpose, even as the sleeting rain pelted his body and soaked him through to the bone.

Pierre knew she was the only one person who could help him. There was only one person with the ability to change the present. “Ophelia.” He muttered to himself in his thick french accent. “Where are you?” as soon as the quiet question left his lips, a buzz from his phone made Pierre stop dead- seeking eaves under which he could take out his phone.

‘Can’t you see me?’ it read, and Pierres brow furrowed. He frowned and looked down from where he had come. It took him a moment, but then he let out a sound as if he solved a particularly difficult puzzle, then walked briskly into the dark alleyway he just passed. His eyes shifted suspiciously from side to side, the alleyway only filled with the usual sort of things alleyways were filled with. “Ophelia?” He called out again more loudly. No answer. The man frowned and continued down the alley.

It was when he turned around the back of the building it ran alongside that he gasped and staggered back, eyes wide at the sight. In front of him sat stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes- so high it reached the second floor fire escapes. More curious was that… they didn’t appear wet. An indignant huff proceeded before the man slipped off his jacket to wrap around the small box he was so cautiously carrying, then set it atop one of the nearby trashcans so he could begin rummaging. He wasn’t sure what sort of game Ophelia was playing, or why she was so keen on being so obnoxiously difficult to find- but he supposed that was her prerogative when she was the self proclaimed Master of time. Box after box he opened, each one yielding something different. Sickers, staples, cupcake, stuffed animal, sushi, nothing (only one of them actually contained nothing). Minutes passed into dozens as he tore through the stack of boxes, trying to figure out the next clue… or at least appease the enigmatic woman and her whims. Was she going to be in one of these boxes? Or was this just some cruel joke in his time of need? With much annoyance, Pierre finally reached the last box- the soggy remains of the other cardboard boxes and their strange gifts lay about like fallen soldiers. It was shoebox sized- and he was beginning to think he wasted his time entirely. He picked up the container and lifted the lid- then a bright smile split across his face.

He ran back to his jacket, gingerly unfolding his jacket- but found the box he brought was no longer there. “Merci beaucoup, Où que tu sois!” He shouted into the alleyway, then threw his jacket across his shoulder and started the long way home.

--- Inside the ship Joe and Pierre called home, there was an eruption of muted panic radiating off the girl like heat off the sun. She had made the worst possible mistake- and it wasn’t even something she could secretly blame on someone else. She was still clutching the paper decorations she had made days prior, bright colors with pink and blue and white cutout mice all marching in a row tied to a string. She had been trying for a while now to pin the decoration up on the wall, but every time she tried she felt her heart squeeze unpleasantly under the rigors of stress.

Everyone was coming over today- to celebrate a baby shower for a baby that didn’t even exist. She hadn’t even known until yesterday that there was no baby- and when she did, she spent the rest of the night trying to figure out if she could cancel the get together.

But everyone had already bought presents! Flam had already baked a three tiered cake! She couldn’t cancel it now! Her and Pierre had stayed up all night trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation- intermixed with comforting kisses and long cuddling sessions where she really didn’t think about anything at all. But it was this morning when Pierre ran through the house with his usual energy, shouting as he pulled on his coat that he knew someone who could help them. Someone who could change the future. She really wished he had been more descriptive… But he always did that sort of thing- probably to frustrate her. Deliberately.

Oh… if only she hadn’t opened her mouth. If only she hadn’t tried to have any friend. If only she didn’t have to want to maintain relationships with the people she cared about. Maybe she should just fly off into space, alone, and float around the black starry lagoon she loved so much- forever.

Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. She made to get up off her seat of misery and pain, but just as swiftly she rolled back down on the cushions, immediately covered in a half-dozen animals. It was hopeless. Joe would have gladly kept wallowing in near tears for the rest of her life, but the doorbell chimed to indicate that the world had different plans for poor Joscelyn. She winced when it cracked through the air, signalling the end of her life as she knew it. With a look of being both deeply put upon and exceedingly devastated, the small woman struggled up from the animal pile and called out ‘I’m coming’ in a voice no greater than a spirited whisper. “Oh- heh… Whooo is it?” She asked through the closed door, hoping that she had just been hearing things and that maybe… just maybe... everyone had forgotten that there was a party at her home. On purpose or otherwise.

“Oh, well, I suppose it’s Floyd!” A deep, amused voice back through the door. Joe let out a long sigh and put on a strained smile.

“Ohhh gooood.” “I’m here too, skirt! And Bala too.” Travis lazy tone followed shortly after and joe let her head fall forward against the door. “Uhm- are you sure you’re all uhm… I mean-” She pressed the wall with her finger deliberately, hard enough that she hoped they could hear her finger thud against it. “Oh no, I think the door is stuck- heh… You all might just wanna go home!” Joe said, feeling only slightly bad about lying to her friends- it was a desperate time afterall. There was a moment of silence where Joe though that that was it- that for once in her life she could make a mistake and it wouldn’t be the end of the world… “Ah, don’t worry Joscelyn, I can get it open. I used to have trouble with this door myself.” Flam said as something scraped in the crack of the door. “It might do a little damage though!” Some horrible straining noise proceeded from the door, and Joe practically thrust her whole body on the door button panel in the attempt to get it open. O-ohh ha- heh- ha… Oh, I guess i just pressed the wrong button….” Joe said with exasperation, smiling stiffly at the familiar stranger at the door. Flam was, of course, disguised- this time as a middle aged bus driver, holding a large box that was filled- presumably- with the three tiered cake he baked for the occasion. Bala was in the back heaving a huge pile of presents- and Travis… Brought himself.

“Heh… mmm You guys really went all out on this… It kinda feels like your trying to one up me and make it impossible for me ever to do anything better…” She said through her saddish smile, which got her a concerned look from Floyd. “Just kidding, heh…”

Flam smiled uncomfortably in his disguise and stepped in first, smoothly transitioning into his usual form. “Well, its nothing, really! It’s a celebration of life, isn’t it? I can think of no better occasion to go all out than this one.” he said in that sort of imperious way that would make anyone with the smallest shred of self-doubt feel small and condescended to. Unfortunately she was the only one in her group with any shred of any kind of doubt. “Totally! I mean, there's nothing more important in life than life itself, right? Need any help with that stuff, skirt?” He directed back at Bala, who could barely see behind the stack of presents. “Fine. Am’a fine.” She shot back, sounding as aggressive and blunt as usual.

Joscelyn felt herself shrink more and more every second they were here, and tried her best not to make a fool of herself while they traversed the dog flooded house and into the kitchen. Flam set down the cake as soon as he reached the counter and started working to unveil it from its box. “Ah- what lovely decorations. Pink and blue, hm?” He said with raised eyebrows. Travis piped in. “Twins? Rad. I’ll give them all my blessing, man.” Bala just dropped the presents where she stood, which made Joe jump like a frightened rodent and skitter away slightly.

“Mmhmm- Oh- yeaaah…” She breathed, feeling herself start to feel faint as her heart pounded out of her chest. Where was Pierre? What was he doing? “Where is Pierre?” Flam said, which made Joe stare at him in slight terror. Could shapeshifters read minds? But the questioning look on his face eventually made her realize that it was actually a legitimate question.

“Oh, well… heh… uhm…” “And where are the little scamps?” Travis added with his languid smile, shuffling around to root through their fridge without asking. Joe started to back away, feeling all the eyes on her as if she was a juicy piglet in a den of hungry wolves. “Heh- well- heh… So…” She stammered so much that Flam paused in lifting the top off the cake box to stare at her. “... Is something the matter?” Flam prodded. Oh- oh the room was closing in on her. What would she say? What would she tell them? Why wasn’t pierre here? Did he give up on her and decide to let her suffer for her actions alone? Well, she supposed that was fair, even though she stuck with him through the whole Francis ordeal without complaint. “Heh- actually- there… Hm… So, it wasn’t on purpose, but-”

Right on time, just like a time traveler should be, Pierre burst into the room like a triumphant warrior. “AH! You all arrived!” He said, as if he weren’t the last to get there. He was trying to keep his panting from showing, but his red face and tousled hair- and the fact that he was soaked head to toe in rain- was indication enough that he had been in a hurry. Everyone swiveled around to look at him, and Joe felt like she was about to cry for relief. Now she wouldn’t have to tell them the bad news, Pierre could! “Nephew! Why- you are in quite a state…” He said with concern. Travis follow it up with his usual Hail and Bala crossed her arms over her chest waiting with critical eyes for an explanation for this strange behavior. “Well. That happens when you run for a couple miles. Here- the guest of honor.” He said, pulling the shoebox he had gotten from the alley out of his pocket. There was a noise of scrambling within, then, when Pierre opened the box- a rat with five little rat babies sat on a bed of cheese crackers. Everyone had a look inside, all giving various signs of cooing at the new mother and children- Joe most of all. She was practically in tears as she came over next to Pierre and looked into the box. She gathered up the little creatures and leaned affectionately against her husband, hardily caring that he was dripping with rain. The question was why they weren’t in the house this whole time- but these questions were evaded as Pierre artfully herded everyone into the livingroom to open presents of little mouse clothes and rat toys. When they were all chattering and fawning in the living room, the lid of the cake box jostled slightly, only a pair of dark sunglasses and a single strand of hair popping out from the gap. “Good work, mark. Good work.”

[rebelheartsmustbefree]

So this is Christmas...PT1

*I sat there in the lobby of the hotel, staring down at his halo. Once a symbol of great power and standing in the heavenly realms, now devoid of all that power and held within my fingers. Levi had made good on his word and taken out Ezekiel, calling me here to meet him so he could give me this proof. The power within him was undeniable. Between my grace still present from our healing session and the fact that he held the high angel inside him now, the shift was palpable. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I wasn’t blinded to the change in him. Levi was all powered up and I had practically handed it all to him, bow and all. If ever he had a desire to end me, this night would be his best chance. Thankfully he had never taken his eyes off the big prize at the end of all this. When the time came, he was counting on me giving him my soul for the eternity by his side in the Pit. But that would be many many years from now and I had a lifetime to prepare for that moment. I shivered at the thought of him taking my soul. The power that would come with that. At least I could take solace in the knowledge that I would be in his good graces at that point. I never let Levi know this, but his existence kept me awake most nights, knowing he indeed was counting down the moments until I gave into him.

I finally got up and left that hotel lobby, forgoing the taxi and deciding to take the long walk back. With the halo in hand I headed back towards home, ironically enough also in the town named Halo. Those angel’s setting up this town, making sure my mother settled and died right here in this place that they wanted me to eventually find. Clever little assholes. It worked though, so had to give them some credit...I guess. For better or worse, this was my home now. I had been blessed to been able to spend those last few months of my mother’s life with her. Though just a drop in the proverbial bucket compared to the life she had already lived without me, nonetheless it was time I would cherish for all of my days. Time that no one could take away from us. Now here I was, living in her home and living my life, living the life I choose for myself. I’m sure I would get some sort of static from this whole Levi thing, working with the Hellmouth to alleviate the obstacle otherwise known as Ezekiel. But they would have to live with my choice because I was promised that I would be left alone to live in peace. The angel broke his promise and went rogue from the Garrison. This was the price that he had to pay and the others needed to know that this was the consequence of that betrayal.

An angel has to do, what an angel has to do. So I did it.

Along my walk, I spotted an abandoned factory. Steel works and such by the lingering smell of metal and copper in the air. Seems to be a good place as any to lose a chunk of metal. I made my way around to the back of the building, finding a door that I could see was already jimmied open, a brick keeping it from reclosing. Weird. I went ahead and entered the building warily, not sure if this was such a good idea now or not. But upon first impression I couldn’t smell the presence of another being, human or otherwise. This could be a great spot for squatters, the winter chill rapidly settling in left the poor and downtrodden scrambling for shelter. Maybe they are the ones who left the door propped open like that for when the return. I looked around for somewhere to stash this halo, not wanting it to be in my home in case of future inquiries. The traitorous higher angel will not be needing this anytime soon if ever again for that matter.

I made my way around the factory, finding a good spot to tuck this hunk of junk away and hopefully never to be seen again. I had just turned to find my way back to the exit when I heard something from behind me, a soft crying if I wasn’t mistaken. Did I even want to look? But then I hear that same sound again, only this time I got a full on whiff of human. One just an hour shy of a day passed on and the other one was still alive but I could feel that heartbeat struggling to sound out that beacon to me. I stepped to the right and found this makeshift shelter, made of blankets and cardboard boxes. I took a deep breath and pulled the sheet aside, the ghastly scene shaking me to the core. Amidst the pile of filthy blankets and pillows, soaked in the blood of their mother, lay a newborn. The infant almost blue in color, eyes not even opened yet with an ever weakening cry. The mother I’m guessing having died during childbirth. It looked as though she had bled to death by the way everything was saturated in blood. From what I could tell she took her last few breaths by wrapping up the baby as best she could before her life slipped away from her.

The baby lay there, now barely clinging to its new found life, all but uncovered and exposed to the chilly air. I leaned over and gathered up the child in its blanket and plucked it up in my arms. Its skin was tacky and covered in the blood and fluids from the birthing process. Hair all matted with dried up blood, but I could tell they were breathing well enough on their own. I had to get the baby to the hospital, right? I frowned at the thought. Taking the infant and giving it up to strangers. I get that I am a stranger too. But I feel like I was a much better option than the baby going into the system to be passed around from home to home until he or she found a good fit with a family. Obviously this girl had no other viable options, having to give birth in an abandoned factory like this. I was faced with two choices. I looked down upon the child’s face, seeing them fighting, trying to get those eyes opened. That was probably what helped me make that choice.

I knelt down and placed my hand on the female’s face, saying a soft prayer before sending her into ascension. Her soul was a little tarnished from a bout of hard living out here on the streets but no real sins to keep her from entering heaven. I held the baby close to my chest, keeping it warm between me and the blankets as I watched the rapture before my eyes. I had never done this before. Aside from personally seeing to my mother’s entrance into heaven, I had not sent anyone by my own hand. I was sure this woman’s soul would be welcomed. Once she was gone, I got out of there, giving a second thought against this long walk home now. I made sure I had a good hold on the child, wings expanding behind my back, looking upward towards the starry night sky as I let my wings carry us home. This was no way for a baby to begin it's life.. but hopefully fate, otherwise known as me, intervening would make a difference in the path this child would now take. I had to believe in something bigger than me. And this baby was the beginning of that.*

#TBC