#the way you can see matt smiling in the back when miles points to alex singing something beautiful... he knows

[perfectly-clear-from-here]

we just gonna ignore the cheeky waist grab hmm?? im not okay... they make it so obvious-

Arctic Monkeys & Miles Kane - Little Illusion Machine (Live in Melbourne) - [x]

[slothgiirl]

the trash pile: alex turner x reader

The cybernetic augmentation juts out from her temple, leading down to her chin, the metal a dull grey. Nothing says belter more than slap job augmentations, Alex thinks as she smiles at him, reaching out with her hand to him.

He takes it.

She's pretty from what he can see from the dim yellow lights in the club. The augmentation somehow complementing her already well formed cheekbones. A mess of bleached blonde hair falling down her shoulders.

And she's already offered, dragging him out onto the floor shamelessly. He'd rather dance with a beautiful woman than stand around drinking and having to listen to all his friends talk about people, things, he's unfamiliar with.

They've moved on.

The floor flashes bright blue to the beat of the music. Too loud to carry a conversation. Too loud to think. Alex can finally stop overthinking, what he's done since he landed on Tranquility base six hours ago.

Her touch is solid and confident, hands on his shoulders as she laughs, one hundred percent in the moment. He doesn't think he's ever been like that. Her ease is as natural as Alexa's charm.

His gaze flickers back to the table they'd been sharing, but they've dispersed into the club. He can't see a trace of any of his friends. Matt had long since left, having a ceremony to wake up for. "Tomorrow," he'd grinned, promising a night of debauchery.

"Hey," Taylor calls into his ear, bringing his attention back to her, blue eyes like the sky back on earth. None of the gaudy recreations of sky broadcasted through the colonies. Mars was said to not even bother, letting it's people grow up with an orange sky.

She smiles, tilting her head, before leaning in.

And wow, Alex really has been alone for too long, as her lips on his send his heart beat into a frenzy. Blood rushing in his ears like a teenage boy all over again. It isn't real, but he thinks in that second he loves her.

Alex always has been a romantic.

They leave the club together. The corridors are still red for the night. The one thing he hadn't missed. Even Ceres had better artificial lighting mods.

"I've got to go to work," Taylor tells him bluntly, "but you should give me your number. I think we could have a lot of fun together." She looks at him with hopeful eyes, biting her lower lip. He wants to kiss her again.

But, he'll be gone the day after tomorrow. The entire base holds too many ghosts for him to feel entirely comfortable. It makes him keep looking over his shoulder, expecting Josh or Julian. Two people he's long since lost touch with.

"I'm actually not staying that long," he admits as she leads them through the corridors. Alex can still recognize the alcoves he and Matt would take smoke breaks in. Which turn would lead them back to the lifts. Another life.

"That's a shame."

He chuckles. Before his mind catches up with his tongue, "wait, did you say you're going to work now?"

"Yeah. Its so fucking boring," Taylor says, stopping besides the lifts. "Coms graveyard shift." She rolls her eyes.

"I don't blame ya," he admits. Alexa had worked the coms. She'd always complained about having to go thirty seven floors below, bundled up in jackets. Since it was less populated, the government enacted more energy saving features.

"Maybe we'll see each other again in the drift," she grins suggestively, right as she steps into the lift.

Alex watches the doors closed, before he turns around, deciding to go find an open store. He could go for some more coffee while he's here. Maybe even stock up on it. It shouldn't be hard. The Base wasn't a residential area. Tourists were coming and going as well as SFN members.

There was the launchpad.

He lets himself wander. Too buzzed to be as tired despite the early call time he has in the morning. It would be just his luck to miss Matt's big promotion because he'd overslept after having traveled a month to be here.

It's not hard to find an open bodega. The open sign flashing green in the dim of the night.

Maybe he should've gotten the night vision implants after all. Miles never shut up about it. How easy it was to make his way about different colonies even during night cycles. And you could only tell if you were looking for the little silver ring around the iris.

Alex slips inside, making a bee line for the food. It's been hours since he last ate. At this point a cup of noodles and instant coffee sound like a dream. He gets the little powdered donuts as well. Then goes for the liquid milk creamer.

Who knows when he'll next have that option. No one had yet to figure out how to increase cows milk production in space. And powdered never tasted the same.

He looks at the fruit. Incredibly overpriced since it's a bodega. But apples and oranges. . .Alex could still remember the taste of fresh squeezed orange juice his mother would make. She'd cut them all open, let him squeeze the juice out before sucking on the pulp.

Alex grabs the smallest oranges.

There's no reason not to splurge. He has the money for it. And work is never hard to come by with his skill set. There's a large market for the skills SFN ensigns have, but most of those ensigns just stay with the navy.

He turns to go pay for his small haul, but the sight of a woman staring out of a faux porthole stops him in his tracks.

Her profile could not hide how beautiful she was, her gaze caught by the live feed of the earth on the other side of the moon. Romantic dark eyes gazing into the side of the bodega, her questionable egg salad sandwich forgotten in her hand. The bump in her prominent nose only served to make her profile more striking.

"That's not actually the earth," Alex starts gently, catching her attention. "Ya know." She turns to him, trying to hide the fact that she'd jumped, startled by his presence. And doing a damn good job at brushing off the surprise.

He was right. She's beautiful. Well formed full lips. Her dark hair tucked a braid, looking better in trousers and patched up hoodie than most people could dressed to the nines. Her shoes stick out from the casual ensemble, patent red leather with a split toe. There's the hint of dark circles under her eyes, probably from a missed nights sleep.

And a scattering of light scars like stars by her left cheekbone.

"I know," she responds, "I just never thought I'd ever be this close to the earth."

"You could take a trip to the other side and see the real thing," he muses, unable to hide the longing in his voice. Alex knew in his bones he'd never step foot on earth again. Never walk the streets in Sheffield or London again. But he couldn't help but wish for a miracle.

She shakes her head, the warmth in her eyes receding as she closes herself off. "Can't. Have to meet with a friend and then go back."

"Must be a good friend if you've come all this way."

She shrugs noncommittally, "He's more of an acquaintance of a friend. I've never actually met the man. But things being as they are," she explains, "it's best done in person."

Alex is now intrigued, a red flag raised in the back of his mind that still flies away information happening in the corner of his eye just in case. It makes him a damn good private investigator. "Mysterious."

"Forgive me for not spilling all my secrets to a stranger," she notes, arching a brow.

He can't help but chuckle. "Ya got me there love. Let's try something else."

"Like what," she asks, the corners of his lips turning up.

"How are you finding our moon?" The moon might not think it was the earth's, and the government sure wasn't, but the moon still spun around the earth the way it had for millions of years.

"Disappointing," she admits, frowning, "Ceres is livelier. And would it kill them to use brighter lighting?"

"Austerity measures," Alex shrugs. It had been the answer for as long as he'd been alive.

"From what," she asks, tilting her head, a smirk forming on her lips, "there's no war or reason for shortages."

"Just repeating the party line," he admits.

"Well," she raises her sandwich like a sad little white flag, "I've got to get going. It was nice meeting you."

"Can I get your number?"

Surprising him, she shakes her head, "No. I doubt we'll ever meet again. I don't plan to stay on the moon for long."

"Lucky for you," he counters, following her to the sales woman, built like a rugby player, "I'm not from the moon. So there's hope yet for our paths to cross."

She snorts, digging around her pockets for money, slowly building up a pile of change to pay with. "Let me guess," she says knowingly, as her eyes look him over, taking in his hair now curling past his ears, the navy blue sweater and white shirt combo that had felt smart earlier but had wrinkled in the course of the night. "you're from earth."

Alex answers bashfully, "born there." He always felt like apologizing for having been born on Earth. For having spent his childhood breathing in air without a care. For not knowing how precious an atmosphere was.

"Well I don't plan to go to earth," she trails off, waving her receipt away.

"Neither do I." He hands the lady a bill too large for what he's bought and follows her out the door, not bothering for his change. "But I take it there's no way I can convince you to give me a number?"

"None."

"How about a name," he offers. Alex had not seen one person that he'd bothered to chase in years. And here she was, indulging him as though he was a stray puppy she had fed once and now followed her around in hopes of more scraps.

"Yours first," she snipes back, not missing a beat.

"Alex." He doesn't ever bring up his last name. Too much weight. A famous family. And an infamous past. Being just Alex was a luxury.

"Tisiphone."

A name fitting for someone born in the jovian system. Maybe even Dione. But Dione, while a newer colony, wasn't bloody awful for someone to want to leave. It had to be-"Titian," he guesses. The wild west of space. SFN cadets hated getting assigned there. Johanna had said the worst part was the perpetual twilight.

Too many crevices to hide in.

"Yes," she responds, "and hopefully never again."

"If we ever meet again," the romantic in him already imagining them crossing paths in a Callisto settlement, planting trees for the rest of their lives and learning to work wood, "can I take you out for a cuppa?"

Tisiphone laughs, smiling tight lipped, "If it happens then I'll say yes earth boy."

** ** ch 2

The ceremony drags on.

They all sit, gathered around the Kennedy Hab, the first large permanent building on the dark side of the moon. The benches are as uncomfortable as ever, as Alex gazes down at a sea of navy uniforms all with various ranks on their right shoulders. He's seated right next to Alexa. The boys down there somewhere with Matt.

It's an SFN event so Alex's paranoia is right for once. The second glances the captains and commanders threw his way were knowing. They recognized him.

It sets his teeth on edge.

Alexa pats his knee, comfortable around him despite their shared history. Johanna besides him with her fiancé. They both keep glancing at each other, infinite in their whispering. He wants that.

"I'll throw hands at anyone who says anything," Alexa reassured him. Looking especially nice in a long red dress. She's not single. But it clearly isn't serious enough if she didn't bring him along to celebrate her friends.

"That would make it worse," Alex responds, keeping his gaze forward, careful to keep his face neutral. It usually wasn't a problem. That being his default expression. But this was bringing up events from his past he's long since buried.

"Derek was supposed to be here," Alexa says to try to distract him, "you would've liked him. Life of the party. Miles and him had a one night stand and now we're all friends."

"Well that's not saying much considering Miles will sleep with anything."

She laughs, "True. But even Nick gets jazzed to hang out with him and you know how hard it is to get close to Nick."

"He's just careful about who his friends are," Alex acknowledges. Unlike Nick, Alex was just terribly bad at opening up.

Nick was just picky. "That says something good about little old me." Alexa twirls her hands over her head. Sticking her nose in the air. "Not such a mess after all."

"You've never been a mess," he tells her, watching as they begin to call up all the newly minted commanders. Matt shouldn't take long. H being closer to the front of the alphabet.

"Yeah but I've never been particularly good at anything but charming my way into things," she shrugs shamelessly. Alexa wasn't the type to lose sleep over her insecurities.

The Admiral present at the ceremony, Marcus Kapoor, speaks clearly over the microphone, "Commander Matthew Helders."

Alexa and Johanna both stand up, yelling, "congrats!" Alex claps as loud as he can for a beat longer than the rest of the room as Matt shakes hands with the Admiral.

Alex remembers his own ceremony seven years ago now. It had been a smaller affair. His entire career accelerated by his talent.

He swallows back the bitter lump that forms in his throat. There's no reason to cry over spilled milk, his father had often told him back on earth.

Try telling that to anyone who doesn't live on earth: most milk is powdered in space.

He finally lets his eyes search through the crowd, trying to spy the man who'd once been his great mentor and friend. But if Julian is present, Alex doesn't see him among the uniforms. He's sure that he'd know Julian anywhere. His hair perpetually sticking out wildly like he'd just woken from a nap, streaks of color running through.

It was a welcome sight from the mandated navy and neutral colors the SFN preferred. Everything was done to keep the SFN neutral, trying to avoid any conflicts between the colonies. And especially between Mars and Earth.

Unable to wait, Alex asks Alexa, "did Julian come?" Julian and Matt had never been as close as Alex had been to the older man, one of the rare people to turn down a promotion. But Alex thinks Julian still would've come and cheered Matt on.

Drinking at bars until morning talking about life and chatting about their mutual obsession with vintage terran music cemented friendship like nothing else.

She frowns, lines forming between her brows. "Captain Casablancas?"

"Yeah," Alex nods, a nervousness creeping into the lining of his stomach. Julian had also been the only person present during the incident that had chosen not to testify. If he had, Alex had agonized long hours over that large IF, he'd probably have been given a far harsher sentence.

And it looked like the man had finally accepted the rank of Captain.

Alexa places her hand on his arm, doe eyes settling on his, before gently attempting to break the news, which given what she was saying, was impossible to break gently. "You haven't heard?"

"No."

"Julian's dead Alex," Alexa explains, her hand anchoring him to reality, even as his world lurches, "some accident with a faulty seal."

Fuck.

What the bloody hell!

Alex clenches his jaw. Julian deserved more than dying in a preventable accident. He was, and remained the only person to have jumped tracks at the SFN, going from maintenance to exploration.

"I'm sorry," she tries, patting his arm with her hand. "I know you two were close. This is sort of the worst way to hear the news isn't it?"

"How long ago," Alex asks in lieu of responding to her. Julian. Alex could hardly call him a friend anymore.

By the time he'd worked up the courage to message the man, Julian hadn't bothered responding at all. A cold message that Alex could understand.

He hadn't tried to contact him again.

"Three weeks."

Alex nods, fixing his gaze on the stage. The names being spoken, called up on stage, meaningless now that Matt had gone.

He'd been traveling to the Base.

No one had bothered to tell him.

They make their way down to Matt, navigating the crowd who are also here to celebrate their relatives and friends. Alexa led the way, cutting through the crowd like a knife through butter.

Jo and her fiancé hold hands. His eyes never leave her form as she leads on.

Alex frowns.

He'd thought. . .he'd thought, when Matt had first met him upon arrival at the base's landing pad, that he could slide back into his old life. Pick up where he'd left off. Maybe get a job here permanently.

Alex hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until he'd sat around and watched all his friends eat and drink. Easily communicating with each other they way only tightly knit groups of friends could. Finishing each other's sentences.

They had once been like that with Alex. But years in between meetings left him out of the loop. It didn't help that he had chosen to self isolate. Choosing to take jobs that left him without a permanent home, spending his free time tucked into various hotel rooms.

"Alexander Turner," a voice calls out.

He turns, faced with a black woman in a sleek khaki green suit, a moon police officer uniform. Her hair is as sleek as the press of her suit. Dark curls dusted with grey hairs.

"Yes," he asks, halting with great hesitation. The last time he'd dealt with the moon police, they were ensuring he was under house arrest during his trial. For his safety they'd told him over and over.

"I'm Major Gabriela Moss," she tells him, sticking her hand out with great formality. "If you'd please come with me," she continues, as he shakes her hand. "There's a job I'd like to discuss with you."

Swallowing any nervousness he has, he nods. How bad could it be? Probably some white collar crime that the police don't want to deal with. Alex could stock up on lots of coffee with the money. "Lead the way."

She takes him to the precinct, located next to the base. Tranquility Base fell under SFN jurisdiction. But the residential areas ringing the building were left to the MP 505 precinct.

Her office is just like every other police office. Bright disorienting lights. Cream walls, with no decor. A desk bolted down to the floor, in case the artificial gravity malfunctions. And a photo of her wife and kids tilted just out of his view.

"What's the job?" Alex wonders if some idiot tried to rob the casino that was right within the base’s building. Trying to steal from SFN was asking for it.

"A man was found murdered in residential bloc 571 this morning," she explains, lighting up her monitor. A photo of an older man with a walrus mustache came up on the screen.

"Isn't homicide your department," Alex asks, twisting his ring around his finger.

"Usually," Major Moss admits, back straight, hands on the desk. "But this man had a false identification bracelet. According to our records he was born on the Moon. But when my officers requested his file from the Bloc listed, nothing appeared."

"You think he was hiding?" Only criminals bothered to falsify ID bands. But why the moon? He could see why a fugitive from the law or a crime boss would come to the moon, but to stay here this long?

Even earth was easier to get lost in, among billions.

"Yes," she surmises, "and for quite a few months. How he's gone undetected this long is a mystery."

"So you'd like to save your skin and sweep this all under the cover." Alex can see a coverup as it happens. The MPs would be humiliated at having let a fugitive run wild for this long.

But, he probably wasn't a criminal if he spent this long without so much as a word. Probably fleeing loan sharks back on some asteroid. Maybe from Titan.

The murder must have landed yesterday. Within the week at most.

"Will you take the job on," Major Moss asks, "there's more information I have if you agree to take on the case."

Alex sighs. He's intrigued. But taking on this case would mean spending more time on the moon which is both a good and bad thing. He hasn't had a proper chat with any of the lads since he last saw Matt on Vesta nearly two years ago now.

But he isn't exactly at ease this close to SFN. At least in the belt, there's lots of stations with little to no navy presence. Callisto's base was generally isolated from the rest of the population due to the way in which the colony on Callisto had developed.

A man's dead.

And from what he can tell, Major Moss would be more than happy for the case to go cold and never have to explain to her superiors how a man went undetected for so long.

But why bother?

Alex can't understand why the man needed to falsify his identity only to sit around. Unless he wasn't a criminal but innocently caught up with the wrong crowd.

It happened easily enough.

"Why me," Alex asked, still considering how suspicious it looked that the MP were giving away a case just because of the implications the man's murder had. The IDB read Sidney Trojan which made Alex laugh a little inside. Whoever had made the ID had a certain sense of humor. "I'm sure you've read my record by now."

Major Moss nods, leaning back in her metal chair, "Mutiny and treason are certainly high charges. But Mr. Turner, If I am being frank, I am more concerned right now with keeping the peace in my precinct. The last thing I want is any belter extremist to start making baseless accusations about how someone who is more than likely one of their own was treated."

"I'm not a belter." Alex had spent enough time among belters to know, no matter how much time he spent on Vesta or Pallas, he'd never be one of them. Being born and raised there was what made you a belter for the rest of your life. Johanna never bothered to hide the augments along her spine, jutting out like filled out ports. Held her chin up proudly despite the harassment she got, and proceeded to destroy them all in combat training.

"But you have spent time among them," the woman argues, revealing how little she knows and understands about belters. Major Moss had probably never left the moon. Never spent time amongst people in the belt, in the places the SFN never went. "My men are mostly from here or earth. You're my best option."

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. It didn't seem like a trap to lock him up after all these years. Just a very ignorant MP major trying to do her job. "Alright," Alex nods. "Show me the surveillance tapes."

The older woman smiles, but no warmth reaches her eyes, a picture of cold professionalism, as she ignites the screen. The tapes start playing almost immediately. The night vision casting everything into grayscale in the corridors. The older residential buildings hadn't anticipated the amount of people that would live on the moon, the walkways connected the blocs only fitting three people at a time, a nightmare in an emergency. They were colorless concrete slabs, the metal having long gone dull.

Time stamped to 05:46 am.

A single figure appears, walking into bloc 571, looking like any person would after a long shift. In jeans and a loose hoodie, holding a very sad convenience store sandwich. A profile he wouldn't soon forget, complete with split toe boots.

Tisiphone.

Alex tries to justify her appearance. The death hadn't happened until 7 am. She must've been meeting her friend in one of the habs in the bloc. But he'd never been one to discount a coincidence.

It seemed that they would be having a chat sooner than anticipated under less than favorable circumstances. He just had to track her down.

His eyes watch the screen as the time ticks by, creeping closer to the time of death.

She claimed to be here to visit a friend which could very easily have been a lie to cover up meeting her potential victim. Tisiphone hadn't been here for very long, no one would willingly choose to eat convenience store sandwiches if they'd spent time here to get other food. Alex wasn't discounting the possibility of her commitment to looking inconspicuous at 5 in the morning, but then, if Sidney Trojan had feared for his life there would've been a struggle.

Someone would have heard in those older habs.

The time stamp reads 6:24am.

Tisiphone leaves the bloc, taking the passageway leading back to Tranquility. Mr Trojan would still be alive. Did she have an accomplice? Or is Alex making the wrong connection.

The time stamp reads 7:46 am. Mr Trojan would've been dead by now.

7 am was hardly the time for a murder to be committed. People going to work. So many witnesses. They must have been desperate. But the tapes proved useless to narrow down any suspects. Too many people, a perfect crowd to hide in. So there was that advantage. As well as, "I need all the records of the passenger manifests arriving for the last three days on the dark side of the moon and today's departures."

"Alright," she replies, holding out her hand.

Alex hands over his com. Letting her synch it up to her system and sending the files over.

"Good luck Mr. Turner."

This time, Alex does roll his eyes as he leaves her office.

Tisiphone had claimed to be from Titan, so that's the first thing he checks. Three days sound about right. He also highlights any belter arrivals. But apart from one family two days before, no one has come from the belt.

He finds the name he's looking for. Tisiphone Velazques, arriving from Hygiea the same night he had. Born on Titian twenty two years ago according to her IDB. It said a lot about how pathetic Alex was that he was currently finding a potential date on a suspect list.

She might still be innocent. But she was the only lead.

If she's a criminal, she'll be staying off grid, not wanting to leave her IDB just anywhere. But, being through, Alex checks Tranquility Hotel anyways, sending a message.

Want to surprise my girlfriend T. Velazques. It's our anniversary and I got back from a trip into Tethys four sols early. Has she checked in yet?

People were really stupid and easily fooled. Alex had learned that in the last few years.

Then he checks his messages. Twenty seven texts from his friends. Two missed calls from Matt. Shit. He'd forgotten all about Matt.

** *** ch 3

Matt clasps an arm over his shoulders, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about Julian. I thought you knew and didn't want to talk about it."

Alex considers coming clean, but decides letting Matt think this is about Julian is easier. "No one tells me anything anymore."

The taller man sighs, "you must think I'm a wanker for not even telling you. Julian always asked me how you were doing you know."

Alex shakes his head. "I tried-It doesn't matter anymore. I just think it's bloody awful to have died so young in an accident of all things."

"The idiot engineers better have been court martialed," Matt comments, as they follow behind their friends to a bar in the casino. They've all been casting looks towards Alex when they think he's not looking, like he's a bomb about to go off.

Things can never go back to the way they were.

They get a few pitchers of beer. Singing Matts praises at every sip, taking the piss about how he's going to be the worst commander ever. Alexa's boyfriend, looking tall, dark and handsome, slips into the conversation with ease while Alex, drinks and checks his phone for a response.

"Alexa's boy toy," Johanna mutters under her breath to Alex. "Does the books for one of the gambling halls."

Alex nods. But finds he doesn't care. All that earlier anxiety about his leftover feelings for Alexa, his first love, gone when he realizes there's no sting as she turns to kiss her boyfriend.

He looks down at his com, refusing a refill of beer when he realizes the hotel's written him back. With a digital key and their congratulations. There goes the supposed privacy and protections hotels were supposed to offer their clients.

But this meant he was now leaning to Tisiphone being innocent. But he could tell she was connected to Mr. Trojan somehow. A gut feeling that t9ld him he was barking up the right tree. She might be able to tell him who would want the old man dead and why.

Alex excuses himself from the celebration, pointedly ignoring Nick's suspicious gaze as he leaves.

He stops and picks up a bottle of wine and a quart of strawberries, each the size of his smallest nail with a hint of red at the tip, just in case anyone in the hotel decides to verify any of his information. He can play the part.

Alex presses the elevator up to floor 10, brings up the key on his com, when the machine asks for verification.

The doors slide shut and Alex tries to formulate a plan.

He can't frighten his only suspect-link to the crime. A man was murdered and if he doesn't solve it, justice will never be served. It's his good conscience that's going to get him in trouble all over again.

The hallway is empty.

A tacky red coat of paint that's made worse by the orange lighting. The crimson hue edging towards black. Hardly a happy atmosphere.

Alex runs his hand over the rail, a vestige from the days before antigravity, as he makes his way to room 1004.

Unlike the lobby, the floor is still metal plates welded together. Shiny compared to the rest of the place.

The casino had seen better days.

And more occupied days.

Hesitating outside the door, he places an ear near the seal, hoping that Tisiphone isn't there. It would give her the advantage if she turns out to be the murder.

Better for her to be out. Gives him a chance to look around.

He takes a deep breath and unlocks the door with the key. It slides open smoothly, revealing mustard walls and a plush navy carpet flecked with gold. There's a small bed on one side of the wall, a black backpack laying carelessly on it.

The small cabinet looks untouched, but Alex still goes through every drawer, making sure he misses nothing, peaking into the bathroom and combing the medicine cupboard.

There's a needle and dental floss. A complimentary bottle of toothbrush tabs laying in its side.

Needle and floss.

For an injury, Alex surmises. Perhaps a fresh one that Mr Trojan had managed to inflict while defending himself? It wasn't the easiest way to treat an injury, but it was the way to go if you didn't want to draw any attention.

He slips back into the small main room, and begins to go through the backpack. It looks standard issue, the fabric a vegetable leather nylon mixture that wouldn't be out of place in an SFN pack. But he doesn't recognize it from any planetary police force.

Inside there's a plasma gun with two full charges. Shrapnel in a jar. An extra shirt along with a lined jacket, also black. And a small copper data box.

He checks the jackets pockets, finding two extra IDBs. Both blank.

It's all very incriminating.

And he didn't think to bring a gun along himself.

Alex removes the charge from the plasma gun, using the pillowcase to ensure he doesn't wipe away any fingerprints, tossing both of the charges into the bottom drawer of the cabinet. And leaves the gun on top of the blanket.

Then he takes a seat and waits.

No one would leave a gun with no plans to come back and get it. Plasma guns were hard to come by. Especially for civilians on the right side of the law.

It was just his luck that the first woman he feels any connection with, ends up tied up in criminal activity.

The whoosh of a door sliding open jolts him out of his thoughts.

Alex sits up straight, deciding he looks less confrontational if he's sitting down. Besides, years of training haven't left. His body still remembers combat maneuvers. He still wakes up at 0600 and goes through basic training like clockwork.

Even when he goes back to sleep right after.

A red boot steps inside.

Tisiphone holds a brand new pair of ear pods, still in their case. The moment she spots him sitting casually in her bed, her almond eyes narrowing in suspicion. Her grip tightens on the case, before she schools her features carefully blank.

In better lighting, the scars marring her cheekbones are more prominent. Flecks of silver against honeyed skin.

"'ello again," Alex says, giving a small wave, strands of his hair falling into his eyes with the movement.

She frowns, crossing her arms defensively in front of her. "Why are you here? Who even let you in?"

"I asked nicely," he explains, "terrible hotel service if you ask me. But as for why I'm here, you wouldn't happen to know who Sidney Trojan is?"

Tisphones lips form a tight line, her stance edging dangerously close to someone expecting a fight. Weight distributed well between her legs. "He's dead isn't he. Someone killed him."

" 'fraid so," Alex nods.

"Who do you work for?" Her eyes scrutinize him, as if waiting for him to strike.

Alex raises both his hands up in the air. "No one. The MP of the precinct where Mr. Trojan lived asked me to take the case on."

She doesn't move. "Earth then? Or some secret division of the SFN?"

It was a popular belief that the SFN held a secret military division. Especially among belters and martians.

"You don't seem surprised to hear he's been murdered," Alex observes, not missing a thing, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"Lots of people wanted him dead."

Tisiphone must have decided he wasn't a threat. She takes a step closer, waking into the bathroom and grabbing the meager supplies, tossing them into her bag, unbothered by Alex's presence right next to her. He's incredibly aware of the small distance between them as her hands make quick work of packing, ignoring the wine and fruit he'd brought: the small distance between her hands and his thigh.

But he doubts that there's a chance in hell she'll go out with him after today. She has the same determined look on her face Johanna had right as she'd punched him day 1 of hand to hand combat. A woman who doesn't take anyone's shit.

Alex snorts, "mind telling me who wanted him dead?"

"SFN. Earth. Mars. The Children of Prometheus. Park Vader's cronies back on Titan. Maybe even Park himself. Take your pick."

"Why," Alex can't help but ask, standing up as she slings her bag over her shoulder. If he lets her walk out now, he'll likely never set eyes on her again. And she has become his only connection to this man's murder.

He can't just let her go.

"He knew too much," Tisiphone shrugs.

"I can't just let you disappear," Alex tells her, sliding between her and the door. It was a dangerous position to be in. He keeps his hands up, trying to reassure her.

"Whoever killed Ivan is going to be after me too," she states, weighing her options.

"Let me help you."

She laughs humorlessly, "I'm long past help. I’ll only drag you down. And you seem like a nice enough man despite everything."

"Despite being born on earth," Alex guesses. War hadn't touched the system in a hundred years, yet there was a lot of bitterness from the colonies over earth. Over the imagined bountiful resources. The air, breathable unlike in so many other places.

He'd lived in enough places in the system to know that it was hard living in every corner of the solarium federation.

"Good bye Alex." Her dark eyes hold his gaze, waiting for Alex to step aside. He isn't sure how long her patience will last.

"If you leave the moon now," Alex threatens, "I'll have no choice but to find you suspect under the circumstances."

Tisiphone glares at him, "are you an officer? Am I under arrest?"

"No."

"Then you have no jurisdiction," she counters.

"But I was able to find you. I'm the only person who could've made that connection." Her shoes had given her away. Too distinctive for anyone trying to hide out, Alex notes. "Everyone else would've written you off. You played the part of a tired commuter perfectly. Your face isn't visible enough for facial recognition. And the timing is wrong."

"So you have to know I didn't kill him," Tisiphone observes.

"I do." Alex nods. "And I also know that you came here for a reason. I'm willing to bet it's why Ivan is dead now. Help me catch his killer and get some people off your back."

“Why do you care so much about him? He’s just another nameless belter to you people.”

He shakes his head, “because a man’s dead. He deserves justice.”

"How do I know I can trust you," Tisiphone asks, her knuckles relaxing their grip on her bag.

"I could've arrived here with the MP," Alex states, "but I'm here all on my own. Because I believe you're innocent."

She sighs. "Alright. I'll stay. But only for another twenty four hours. That's all I can give you."

He can work with that.

"Okay now let's get out of here. If I can waltz right in so can whoever killed Trojan."

"Ivan," Tisiphone corrects. "His name was Ivan Schlossberg."

"And is Tisiphone your real name," Alex asks.

She doesn't meet his eyes.

** ** ch 4

His hotel room is on the top floor. A half circle window looks out into the expanse. The grey panorama, flattened by robots, is broken up by the tops of other bloc, jutting out of the landscape like hills. The sun is the only recognizable feature in the sky. All the other stars and planets are too distant to be visible.

But Alex has the map of the system imprinted into the backs of his eyes. He could tell where earth and mars fall, navigating by stars like explorers of old, even with the slight changes that arise depending on where you were in the system.

Tisiphone looks out into space, eyes full of stars, as Alex interrogates her.

"Why would the UN or Mars be after Ivan?"

"I already told you," she responds evenly, her gaze still fixed on outer space, a melancholic quality that held none of the wonder people usually had when staring into the stars, "he knew too much."

"About what," Alex presses. Earlier she had named all the major players in politics. That which all SFN members despised because it made doing their job a nightmare of red tape.

Tisiphone looks over at him, turning her whole head towards him. "He was involved with the children of prometheus. Selling information. And Park doesn't like when his people decide to leave him."

It didn't take a genius to know what kind of information would be of value to the children of prometheus. "And your mutual friend."

She swallows thickly before answering. "Told me to find Ivan. That he could help me. I don't know anything more than that. Ivan was going to leave the moon with me and explain this later."

Alex doesn't believe that for a second. Tisiphone wouldn't have left so easily that morning if Ivan hadn't given her something. But he also knows when to let things go. "And why would they also be after you?" The usual targets for the children of prometheus were high ranking UN members or members of the Martian Presidium: the operating companies on the belt that treated their workers as expendable.

Tisiphone was none of those.

She takes a seat on Alex's current bed, her knuckles white as she grips the covers, studying the much more pleasant purple carpet. Not as matted or stained as the one in her room.

Her now shoeless feet revealing mismatched socks.

"I saw something I shouldn't have seen." She bites her lip as her eyes water. Alex forces himself not to look away, wanting to give her privacy. "Someone killed my friend and covered it up. And now they want to kill me."

He takes a step towards her, kneeling down in front of her seated figure, "I'm going to help you."

"You can't help me." Tisiphone shakes her head, looking straight at him, "you can only buy me time."

She flips through the stations as Alex combs through the flight records once more. He's isn't looking for random thugs. If this is a high profiled cover up the way she is alleging, then he needs to find a slicker cover.

He checks for any terrans that've landed here in the last few days. Any native mooners with no permanent address on record: the types of people that would easily fly under the recons. The least likely to be scrutinized.

Alex finds three profiles that fit the description. Two had arrived together under the IDBs Gemma and Nick Ryan. Siblings on vacation from earth.

They were passingly related, the same brown coloring. But Alex's searching gaze found no similar features. The bone structure was all wrong. Gemma's strong, squared. While Nick had a delicateness to his features that was absent in Gemma's.

They had the look of UN division operatives. A learned blankness that helped them slip from memory.

The third was on a flight from Ceres. An older asian man: Hugh Shen. There was no way he was born on the moon and had no records of living here. Alex knew most people born on the moon didn't chance leaving.

Opening for new immigrants were few and far between.

Then there was an oily quality that reminded him of many UN cogs that surrounded his mother like gnats.

In order to be sure that they are division members, Alex'll have to go to the scene of the crime. He knows the UN’s playbook. The methods that division uses. Growing up around his mother, he couldn't not have learned something.

Though Penelope Turner was an idealist, she was willing to do what was necessary to get the job done. It's why she was such an effective politician.

He coms Major Moss, letting her know he'll need access to Ivan's hab.

"Stay here," he tells Tisiphone. "Help yourself to anything I've got."

"Anything," she asks archly, "because I could run a bath. Never had one of those."

"Then by all means," he shrugs. The water bill was bound to burn a hole in his pocket, but going through life without knowing the laziness that baths inspired was no life at all.

She rolls her eyes, shamelessly combing through Alex's meager possessions As meager as hers really. Though he didn't have the excuse of being in hiding.

Alex takes the plasma charges with him.

Major Moss, along with another woman of medium build and asian descent, meets him at the entrance to bloc 571, the white paint having long since peeled off the metal walls. The orange lights flickered, needing replacement, as he walks beside her into bloc 571. He can hear the pressure seals around the door, as it slides open, letting them inside.

While the oldest blocs on this side of the moon, their shortcomings in cramped corridors were nothing compared to the space of the older habs.

Unlike Tranquility base, and the rest of the blocs on the moon, the lights inside bloc 571 were LED and white, the costliest to maintain. A knot of tension eased up in Alex's shoulders. His mind, despite the years in space, always unconsciously yearned for earth's natural light.

"This is officer Cong Xi," Major Moss says blandly, "she'll be taking you through all our available evidence. We're receiving pressure to wrap things up as quickly as possible. There are lots of people who want to move into a hub as spacious as this."

Alex snorts. That's what they cared about.

Cong nods, smiling warmly at him as she drinks coffee from her hot pink tumbler. "Nice to meet you Alex Turner."

Which meant she'd been briefed and knew all about him. There was probably a non-SFN version of his file on her com as they spoke.

Alex had never gotten the chance to read his file after the trail. His dishonorable discharge had left him without any credentials to ask for his file without heavy redaction if he got any response at all. He'd have asked his parents if he hadn't been a coward and taken the first ship to Vesta, hell bent on drinking himself to death.

"Likewise," he responds, realizing he's waited a beat too long to respond.

With that said, the Major turns on her heel, and leaves.

"Shall we," Cong asks him, waiting for him to follow. How did such a pleasant person end up working for the MP? Had to be an idealist. Or hadn't been working for long.

He nods.

Alex takes in the bloc.

The floors dull from nearly four centuries of feet walking over it. Not a scrap of white paint left. But the walls are covered with green plexiglass, an attempt to make up for the lack of actual greenery that hadn't been planned for in old models. Even Pallas had some weeds growing among the tangle of wires.

Each door is painted a different color, giving the neighborhood character. Ivan's hab is red, with a pattern of florals overlaid.

Officer Cong hands him shoe covers and a pair of gloves, "standard procedure," she tells him with a tinge of apologies interwoven in her voice, before she unlocks the door, letting them both inside.

Like most crime scenes, the place is covered with tape and plastic to preserve the integrity. But Alex can see the coziness that Ivan Schlossberg had built inside his hab. A glass top table with mismatched but colorful plastic chairs. Books covering a side table ranging from subjects like "Bloom: a guide to space plant maintenance," to "Catching Fire."

His desk is covered with bits of computer parts. Motherboards and processor chips. Different size screens, some with cracks.

This was the picture of a man who believed himself to be safe. He wasn't planning on running at the drop of a dime. So how had they found him?

Tisiphone had entered first.

Why not kill them both at once?

Or had they believed them both to be inside and cursed themselves when they realized the girl had gotten away?

As Alex looks about the room, noting no signs of struggle, Officer Cong studies him. Her gaze curious.

The mess of computer equipment makes Alex guess that Ivan tinkered with it to communicate with whatever group he was working with, likely using it to hack information from earth and mars. The rudimentary nature of his devices would have confused the much more advanced systems Earth relied on, massive data banks in the tundra chugging along. Ivan would've also had the flexibility of pulling the system apart and rebuilding it with different bits of code each time.

A waste of time, unless you were an old man with lots of time on your hands.

His collection of parts would've been written off as eccentricity.

"You can ask," Alex finally says, when he gets tired of the awkward silence.

"Are you really the mutineer?"

It was much better than being asked if he was that traitor. Particularly bitter belters had taken the liberty of making his days hell in the beginning, knowing he wasn't about to go get help from the SFN.

He nods, looking back at the door. Division wasn't above using chemical weapons. The seals on older habs built with the care of spaceships, no one outside this hab would've noticed. "The one and only," he finally says.

While there were lots of people who had problems with the SFN, it generally wasn't seen among rank and file members.

Cong hums, slurping her coffee.

Alex peels back the plastic over a particularly large pile of electronics, his eyes searching for something small, like a computer chip or drive that would be overlooked to the untrained eye. Toxic gases needn't be in large doses to pack a punch.

"I remember the trial on the net," she comments, "it was all my parents could talk about. My whole family really . . ."

A glint of copper catches his eye. Alex keeps his face neutral, letting Cong ramble on as he plays at looking at the body outline on the couch, as if he could magically find a guilty dust bunny, slipping the casing into his hand for later.

"-guess I was too young to care about that. Too caught up with boys and the latest hairstyles."

Alex nods, trying to pay attention. But with that casing, he's sure it was division. Certain mixtures created the same symptoms in the body as a heart attack. Given his age, it created the perfect cover.

But why come in and stab him after?

Who were they trying to frame-

They were after Tisiphone.

She had led them to Ivan, Alex's thoughts come together, each piece falling into place. They had watched her since she arrived. Which meant they knew she was headed to the moon, hence the two early dispatched division agents, purposely waiting for her to leave before killing Ivan, making sure she'd be the only suspect.

But their plan had gone to the pits.

They hadn't planned on Major Moss trying to burry the case. Or that Alex would be called on.

Instead of an easy frame job, it was a cold case waiting to happen. An MP officer would've just taken Tisiphone in. Assumed that the time of death was off due to some lab error and closed the case. But their plan had gone sideways.

"Find anything," Cong asks him suddenly, having given up trying to chat when it became obvious he wasn't listening. Though why he would make small talk about the event that had sliced his life into two distinct parts, he didn't have the foggiest idea.

Alex shakes his head, "thought the scene might hold a clue." He stands up straight, faking the appearance of disappointment channeling his mother's face when he'd come home with an F. "Whatever crime boss hired the hit must've hired a couple of top notch lads."

"Oh well them," Cong continues, holding up her com for him to read, "Major Moss needs us to come in. Apparently there's been a new development in the homicide."

Alex's chest tightens. God he hopes they haven't found Tisiphone dead. Or arrested her.

No. There's no way. He'd already be under arrest for harboring a criminal. No amount of goodwill would keep him out of prison this time.

Alex had to continue under the impression that she was fine. Because no one else had linked her to this case. No one had any reason to suspect her of anything at all. "Led the way then love."

Cong, like most girls (and some boys) since Alex had turned sixteen, blushes pink, before stepping around him and leading him back to the precinct--and to Major Moss's office.

The division agents who had landed on Tranquility base as siblings named Gemma and Nick, introduce themselves as, "Agents Barnes and Khan." They're already seated in front of Major Moss, only confirming Alex's conclusion.

The capsule in his pocket feels like a block of lead, weighing him down.

There's no way they know he knows.

Except they've been tailing Tisiphone since she landed. They might already know she's sitting in his room.

He needs to get off the moon. Alex had promised Tisiphone he'd keep her safe. And this case had just gotten much bigger than a homicide.

It was the type of cover up that required a neutral party to uncover. A High ranking SFN member that would do the right thing. Unfortunately Alex had learned the hard way that organizations were never as impartial and righteous as they claimed to be.

Bloody hell.

In between two impossible choices, giving Tisiphone up or calling his old mentor Vice Admiral Homme, he wasn't sure which was worse. Would Josh Homme even care?

Or was the UN's influence great enough to buy Homme's cooperation?

"I understand that Major Moss has made the mistake of handing a homicide to a private investigator," Agent Barnes says, smiling brightly as if she hadn't just flung shit at Major Moss, who to her credit, didn't even flinch.

"I'm the private investigator," Alex responds evenly.

"They've just finished informing me," Major Moss interrupts, smoothing down the lapels of her pants suit, "that they've identified the culprit."

Agent Barnes nods, then proceeds to do the very Earth thing of pulling out an actual paper file from a jacket and displaying it on the desk. "A career criminal from Titan named Tisiphone Velasquez. We believe her employer to be some drug lord that Mr Trojan was a long time customer of. When he got clean and moved to the moon, well. . ." Barnes trails off leaving a dramatic pause before clearing his throat, "Titian didn't forget his debts."

Ivan's hab was not the home of a drug user. Or a recovering drug user. He'd never been to Titan, to the city under the ocean, but he knew enough about drug lords to know that they had more to deal with than a customer with lots of debts on a colony as secure as the moon.

But Alex can see Major Moss eat up the story, her eyes gazing over as there's one less problem for her to deal with.

"Well Mr. Turner," Major Moss turns to him, "It looks like your services are no longer needed. I'll wire you the payment promptly. Meanwhile I'll circulate the perpetrators photo and have my officers be on the lookout."

"We will be taking custody of Miss Velasquez," Agent Barnes interrupts, "she has insider knowledge of a crime ring we have been monitoring for years."

"Of course," Major Moss responds, already typing out the paperwork.

He has to get off the base. He has to take Tisiphone far from here.

Alex turns to leave, reaching the door before he hears Agent Barnes mutter pointedly under her breath, "It's a wonder Ambassador Turner hasn't resigned out of shame. No clue how he can show his face in public."

Agent Khan coughs to hide a snigger.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. It's bait. And an obvious one at that. He has more than a few scars to prove how stupid responding to it would be, but they did just insult his mother.

"What did you just say," Alex asks through clenched teeth, not turning back to look at them, robbing them of the satisfaction. Mentally, he counts to ten.

He's not going to give them an excuse to place him under arrest.

Tisiphone is counting on him.

The fact that they're baiting him instead of just following him back to the hotel room is a good sign they don't know he's hiding Tisiphone. He tries to concentrate on the and not the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

Tisiphone.

Her petite figure sitting on his bed, scrutinizing everything with an arched brow. The look in her eyes as she'd stared with a refugee's longing for their ancestral home at the image of earth, the green returning to the land after hundreds of long reclamation projects initiated by the UN.

"Nothing to trouble yourself with Alexander Turner," Agent Barnes replies patronizingly, "There is no further use for your services here."

Alex clenches his jaw, and walks out the door.

He lights a cigarette as he makes his way through the dim corridors, the orange fading into scarlet, stopping only to pick up supplies he imagines needing as they travel to space together. Not all at the same store.

Alex will have to get everything out of her, if he's going to throw in his lot with her and hope they get to the bottom of the conspiracy before they're arrested and killed. Or just killed.

What could be bad enough that the UN felt it necessary to send division agents after a woman?

The problem is the IDB has been made.

He's going to have to hope she can get another one quickly. Tisiphone, whose name is more than likely not Tisiphone as all, wouldn't have survived this long is she was stupid.

Fuck.

He really should just turn her in. Or give her a heads up and be on his way. Alex could be on Pallas in four weeks, having the most questionable weed in the system, laced with the hell knows what. Take a case every now and then. Finally make his way out to Titan.

Logan had been his favorite western growing up. Right after The magnificent Seven. He'd made Matt have stand offs against him for days after seeing it, pretending he could manipulate metal. And Titan was the new wild west of space. And still people flocked out to carve their little piece of real estate.

Humanity is ever expanding.

Alex has to press the lift button twice, cursing and lighting another cigarette when the lift's lighting system dies as he ascends up, connecting with Tranquility's passageways.

More than once, he has to stop himself from glancing over his shoulder, sure he'll see an Agent following him. Hugh Shen had been absent from their little meeting. But that didn't mean he wasn't still skulking about.

Even the air changes from the corridors to the base. It's drastic compared to Ceres where the air quality is shit everywhere you go. The base has crisp clean air that didn't leave you all cotton mouthed for the wrong reasons.

From there it's easy enough to head to his room. Alex is already flicking through the net, looking for tickets to the belt. Or maybe they should go to Callisto. It was famous for being a no extradition zone: refusing to acknowledge any authority other than theirs and SFN's by extension. The relative safety was tempting, but he couldn't plan until Tisiphone told him everything she knew.

Alex wasn't stupid enough to think she wasn't holding something back. Her earlier explanation had been as vague as she could manage given the circumstances. He had no clue who her friend was. What she had seen other than a wrongful death.

There had to be a reason behind the coverup after all.

No government went around coverup murder for no reason. It just wasn't economical.

"You have to tell me everything you know," Alex tells Tisiphone in what he hopes is a commanding voice, as he tosses his bags on the bed, plopping down. His only shortcoming as a commander had been the complete and utter lack of confidence he had when giving orders. "Division has just shown up and thrown you under the bus."

Tisiphone's hair hangs down, damp as she listlessly scrolls through the catalogue of music offered by the hotel. She flinches at his words. "I should've left when I had the chance," she tells him harshly, uncurling from the settee and moving to grab her things. She jams her feet into her boots in one swift motion, clearly having been ready to make a run for it at a moment's notice.

"You're right," Alex tries, taking out the gas casing, ensuring the glint of metal catches her eyes. "It's a coverup."

"Obviously," Tisiphone scowls.

"I'm sure they've circulated your IDB by now," he continues, "they wanted to frame you for Ivan's death. I want to know what you saw so I can help you."

"Why so they can kill you as well," Tisiphone shakes her head, "No. . .no."

"What's so important that Division would risk breaking the treaty of Schiaparelli for," Alex asks, rubbing his temples. He wasn't a politician. The inner workings of government fell to the wayside of his thoughts.

There had been no major battles fought in a hundred years but relations between colonies were always fraught with tension over resources. Those skirmishes were usually fought in the Solarium Federations regulatory body, but Alex wasn't naive enough to discount the darker talk of division--their tendency to enhanced interrogation.

"Why do you want to help me so badly," Tisiphone counters, hands on her hip, glaring down at him as if he was the reason that Division had found her at all.

"Someone should," Alex shrugs, peering up at her. The line of her body fell naturally into a defensive stance, something that could only be so natural if she'd started training when she was very young. Tisiphone wasn't an innocent civilian, but she still didn't deserve to be disposed of. "And if I don't, they'll probably kill you and throw your body in some incinerator."

"Or they'll kill us both," Tisiphone replies archly.

"I'm offering you my help if you want it."

She peers down her nose at him, her lips pressed into a flat line, the slim line of her jaw fitting in perfectly with her feline features: a cat deciding if batting the toy was worth it. Turning on her heel, stepping into the bathroom, Tisiphone orders him to, "strip."

Smart girl.

It doesn't keep the burn from making its way up his neck as she turns the refresher, the low static drowning out any background noise as she takes a seat inside the fogged glass.

Alex kicks off his boots, gratefully that he'd actually kept up with his fitness all these years as he pulls his shirt off. There's still bruising in the crook of his elbow. He doubts she misses it as she stares up at him. It's a rush of relief when he notices the scarlet on her cheeks. This is embarrassing for both of them then, as he unbuttons his trousers, before taking a seat in front of her.

"Division blew up my crew." She starts with, staring at a spot behind him, her eyes welling up with tears. "They launched a missile and it tore their ship apart." She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, shaking her head, "I'm sorry I just. . .let me start over."

"It's okay."

"Shut up Alex and let me tell this in a way that makes sense." She swallows thickly. Taking a deep breathe during which she closes her eyes before continuing. "My name is Vera Albaicin. I'm an agent of the Guoanbu. Sixty eight sols ago my crew was handpicked to participate in an interplanetary task force with the UN. It was supposed to be an easy retrieval mission. We met up with the other crew. Everything was normal."

T-Vera closes her eyes, her hands closed tightly by her sides, trying to suppress the shiver that runs down her spine. Alex wants to offer comfort, but he isn't sure there is anything he can do to make things better in this situation.

"I took an EMU suit to-it was a strange ship. More like a capsule or probe. I had just made contact when my ship was hit." She shakes her head, a desperation in her eyes at the helplessness she must keep on feeling. Not having been able to do anything to save her crew. "Space. They died in seconds. The thing is. . .the only people who would've known about the mission were the UN and MPC. Earth and mars."

Alex nods, trying to probe her as gently as possible because there is still one unanswered question, "how did you know to find Ivan."

The UN and MPC must have decided that the knowledge was better off lost after having sent a retrieval team. Something they didn't want anyone to know about it. That fact that mars and earth had cooperated at all was throwing Alex off. Weapons would make sense if it was just mars or earth. But together?

Vera shakes her head slowly, her gaze meeting his, an intense anger to their depth he had not seen before. She was digging because she was fucking mad. This was a woman seeking justice. "I can't."

"Vera," Alex utters, unable to look away, trying her real name out on his tongue. "My name is Alexander Turner. I'm kind of famous for breaking the law," he finished with a self deprecating smile.

Usually, the last thing he wanted a potential date to know was his past.

Her eyes widen, her whole body freezing up as she takes in the new information, pursing her lips in an attempt to suppress a telling gasp. But instead of recoiling in disgust as he expects her to, Vera reaches for her neck, revealing a necklace obscured by her hoodie. It's a cheap metal thing that must be of sentimental value.

She doesn't stop there, thumbing the ring at the end of the chain before meeting his gaze once more. This time there's no hard glint to her cognac eyes, but a woman at last having caught on to a life preserver. "Julian-Captain Casablancas told me to find Ivan. Trust no one-trust no one but Alex Turner," Vera admits, unable to hold his gaze. "He must have known what was coming."

It's a ring he recognizes well, a twin to his own commander ring. The classic exploration insignia: the atom. Every detail identical for Julian and Alex had received their rank at the same ceremony, only Julian had been eight years older. Already the man Alex wanted to be: wanted to be with. The man had inspired camaraderie the way a good leader should, and clearly he had managed it in a martian girl as well if she had come all this way on his word alone.

"Can I," he motions, aware of the closing distance between them. Between him and Vera. Vera. He had to get his head around that one. Same woman, different name.

No. Not the same woman.

This woman was a martian secret intelligence agent. Not some naive little girl.

She nods, closing her fist around the ring before yanking the chain in a quick motion. It snaps off. The sound like the hull of a ship nearing the end of its lifetime, creaking. Then drops the ring into his outstretched palm.

Without Alex having to prompt this time, still caught up in seeing Julian's ring, still warm from Vera's body heat, in his hand. Julian hadn't responded to Alex's messages. He'd assumed it was because of Alex's past, but now he was left to wonder if Julian had wanted to protect him by keeping away from him. Keeping whatever he'd gotten caught up in that had killed him away from Alex. Vera adds, "I was confused why he'd told me that, given me his ring as I got into the EMU suit but. . .Ivan told me that he was just the messenger. He'd worked for so many sides not asking questions. Earth, Solarium, Mars. They were all the same to him. So he decided that the children of prometheus had a point and got in contact with them. Relaid information. Ivan-he was going to tell me more."

But he'd died.

Vera looks at him meaningfully, "but he did manage to give me the coordinates that he was given by his CoP contact. In case he ever needed a safe house or extraction."

"He never-," Alex begins to ask, not taking his eyes off the ring. In his hand was proof that Julian had been killed.

"He never met his contact," Vera confirms. "But they're on Callisto. Some hippie hub." She rolls her eyes and what a martian thing to do. Look down on every colony not hell bent on terraforming.

Alex turns his gaze on her once more, seeing her in a different light for the first time. Trying to spot what made her a martian. As if he could spot in vitro augmentation just by looking her over.

But all he saw was a petite woman with a hollowness under her eyes. Her full lips pressed into a grim line. Hair slowly drying into waves, catching the light like oil on water. Despite Alex's new information about Vera, he was no less drawn to her.

There was no sadistic edge that spoke of oprichnik operatives who the Martian People's council refused to acknowledge existed despite all the mounting evidence about their methods.

His gut was telling him that Vera was telling the truth.

"One thing though," Alex points out, taking off his own ring for the first time since he'd first received command rank, a command long since stripped from him, and sliding Julian's ring on his finger in its place as he stands up. His mind was made up. He was going to help Vera uncover this conspiracy. Clear Julian and Vera's name. And maybe, just maybe, reclaim some respect on his name.

"What?"

"You said earth and mars sent you," he says gently, having encountered enough martians to know how loyal to their colony they were otherwise known as having bought into the propaganda, "but Division killed your crew.. ."

"Yes," Vera nods, tapping her foot on the floor.

"Then wouldn't both earth and mars have sent the missile that killed your crew? Or wouldn't have mars already used this as an excuse to advance their agenda?"

"No," she supplies, refusing to even contemplate the idea that Mars would've been complicit in such an act. "The Guoanbu wouldn't have killed their own. We're-they're not like that."

“Vera," he sighs, "there's nastiness under every corner, no matter how nice everything is on top you know."

She shakes her head again, averting her gaze, There wasn't much to look at on the walls, but she was making due.

"Let's just find ya another IDB and get to Callisto-"

There's a knock at the door.

Alex and Vera trade wide eyed looks, having taken the plunge off the same cliff with nothing but a string of brand new fucking trust between them. A dead man's word to go on.

Fucking hell.

Matt and Nick flank each side of the room's door. Nick's stone face offsets the mixture of parental concern Matt's features contain, sighing at Alex's appearance, sticking his head out the door. Vera hiding next to the door, alert to every word.

He has to wonder how good her hearing is. Martian's always messed with embryos biology, designing the next generation to be fitter. Could she hear down the hall? What the people in the next room were saying?

Matt steps forward, "jesus fuck mate," he shakes his head. "Can't respond to a bloody com now Alex."

"I told you I got a job," he protests, trying to remember if that was true. His friends had fallen to the bottom of his priorities quickly. Alex had a habit of self absorption with whatever obsession came his way. It had made him a terrific ensign, practicing the same maneuver for hours until he could do it with his eyes closed.

"No," Nick corrects, not bothering to move the curls out of his face, watching him carefully, "you didn't."

Alex sighs, but doesn't budge. They mustn't see Vera. Soon her face will be plastered all over the net as a manhunt begins. Her IDB must already be flagged for travel.

He had to make his rightfully concerned friends go away and quickly.

"Al," Matt levels with him, "I asked you to be here because you might as well be my brother. I knew when I did that it would mean coming back to the moon. That it would bring up a load of shit for you."

"We're worried about you mate," Nick explains. "You're still here. You won't talk to any of us."

" 'm fine," Alex mumbles, unable to hold eye contact with either of his friends. He looks at his shoes as he realizes how unfair he's been to them both in the last two days.

This trip was supposed to be about Matt.

He shouldn't be here worried that Alex finally went off the rails.

"Alex," Matt utters, placing his hand on the door frame, leaning in close to Alex. "You know you can talk to me. I don't care what you did or why."

"Really," Alex tries, because as much as he'd like to have this long overdue discussion, finally get to explain why--no one had ever asked him why, they'd just condemned his actions as w r o n g--he has to get Vera off the moon. "I'm fine. Just been in me head."

"That's what I'm worried about," Matt responds, eyes locked onto his, as if Alex could disappear at any moment. "You've always been in your head too much Al. And it didn't matter when I knew you were looking after yourself. Had me and the lads with you but-Alex you looked like utter shit back in Vesta last time I saw you, hopped up on who knows what."

Alex swears internally. They really knew when to pick the worst moments. He was actually doing good. "I know. . .," he tries to find the words that don't require him to have an emotional breakdown in Tranquility Hotel, aware Vera's listening in, "it's been rough. Some days worse than others but Matthew," he whines, "I really am good."

"For how long though," Nick counters, crossing his arms against his chest. It was a good point but Alex really hadn't been in the dark lonely place in months. Maybe closer to a year now. Progress.

Something about waking up missing shoes and jammed into the seediest by corners of an asteroid had lit a fire under his arse about moving on.

He hadn't even hit the agents earlier. They would've deserved it but who gives a shit. Alex will always be a mutineer but at least his hands were clean. His conscience is a white pearl like a meditating bodhisattva.

"Can we just go inside and talk man," Matt pleads, his shoulder resting against the door, clearly seconds away from shoving his way in.

Guilt wells up in his mouth. Despite having every reason to say no, Alex wants to say yes, the word making its way to the tip of his tongue at Matt's insistence.

It was Matt and he was Alex and he couldn't just deny him like this after everything.

Terrans were only allowed one child.

The law didn't keep Matt from being his brother any less.

"I can't," Alex sighs. "I just-you've given me a lot to think about."

Matt rolls his eyes, hurt flashing through his features as he takes a step back, "bullshit."

"Just open up the damn door Alexander," Nick tries, clearly having had it with trying to do things the nice way, realizing Alex wasn't going to budge on his own. "We're ya friends."

"It's been six years Alex," Matt added. "I thought you'd want to talk by now."

Alex shakes his head, "it's not always a straight line."

"Let's have this conversation inside," Nick insists, "who knows when you'll be around next Al. And now Matt has a command. . ."

Matt shoves his way in.

Alex had forgotten how hot headed he could be. The foil to his cool and calm temperament: translating Alex's lit to others. Not that Alex had much trouble verbalizing, necessity being the mother invention. He no longer took hours to get a sentence out of his mouth.

"Matt!"

"Don't Matt me Al," Matt retorts spying Vera in seconds, who's already fallen into a defensive stance.

Matt brings a hand to his face, pinching his nose bridge, before heavily sighing, "You've got to be kidding me Al. You're hiding a murderer now."

"She's no-"

"I didn't kill anyone," she tries, folding into herself, trying to appear smaller and innocent than she actually is. Vera tries to play at being Tisiphone once more. "It's all a misunderstanding!"

"Then turn yourself in," Nick challenges, closing the door behind him.

"Al," Matt says, placing his hands on Alex's shoulders, "what the hell are you thinking mate! They're going to lock you up for this and not even-"

"Matt," he interrupts, "trust me. I'd love to have a nice long chat but things have gotten. . .complicated and-it's safer if ya don't know. Just. . .trust me."

Matt stares back at him, mouth drawn. An entire childhood together on earth, their toes digging into the soil, tracking mud all over the floors. Later a shared adolescence, their accents charming the girls and boys at school, Matt doing all the talking and never leaving a painfully shy Alex behind.

He nods. "You better come back because we're having this talk even if I have to go visit you in prison."

"There are things far worse than prison," Vera unhelpfully points out, tugging on her jacket over her hoodie, the collar lined with actual animal fur. Given the martian rationing system, it was an untold luxury for Vera to own a leather jacket with fur at all. "I'd even take death over enhanced interrogation."

She pretends to tremble with fear, "anything but gravity."

Alex snorts in spite of the dark subject matter. "Not helping."

Ignoring the other two men in the room, Vera hands Alex one of the spare IDB's he'd seen in her bag earlier. Had it really been only hours ago? "Here's your IDB now. Alexander Collins. Born on Pallas. Married to Morgana Collins," she points at herself, already dispatching the old IDB off her wrist and throwing it in her bag. "Came to the moon to get married. Off to Callisto to make a living," she explains calmly.

"Short and sweet," Alex notes, looking down at his own wrist, the IDB a second skin. He hadn't taken it off since he'd left earth. Many colonies like Callisto chose to implant the ID chip.

It was the key to getting on any ship. His passport and last link to earth. His last hope at ever stepping foot on the big blue planet again, however slim.

Visas for foreigners pretty much nonexistent.

Nick hands him a swiss army laser, "I implanted mine." It's news to Alex who hadn't even noticed, Nick having always been a bit chilly, wearing long sleeves year round. " 's nice actually."

Matt dramatically covers his eyes.

Alex slices through the metal, leaving a band of unblemished creamy skin.

It doesn't last long, as Vera easily replaces it.

"You should keep it," she tells him, patting his arm like a parent half heartedly consoling their child after a pet fish dies. "We are planning on fixing things."

"Yeah," Alex answers, running his fingers over the band. He already felt less confident without it.

[bastillewolf]

Midnight In Sheffield (III)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician whilst on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: Took a bit longer to edit this chapter, and made it longer. Hope you enjoy!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

@alexbandguy86​​​​​ @bettyschwallocksyee​​​​​ @fookingsummertime​​​​​ @juicebox-baby​​​@darksydork7​​​​ @edgythought​​​ @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo​

Song recommendation: ‘Bistro Fada’ by Stephane Wrembel

Chapter III - No. 1 Party Anthem

It couldn’t be.

Surely, she hadn’t been that drunk.

If so, she would’ve felt more than embarrassed.

She was standing in the very street she had wandered through the night before, yet nothing seemed familiar. There were no vintage sales, or shops for that matter, or Ford Roadsters that were illuminated by the antique streetlights perched on cobblestone roads.

Instead, she was faced with boring old Sheffield; cracked and bruised asphalt. A few clothing stores and a newspaper office. There was one pub, but not the one she’d been looking for.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Mark said.

“I- Uh, yeah. I could’ve- I could’ve sworn it was here,” she stuttered in response.

“The pub you went to?”

She nodded silently.

“Maybe you went in a different direction. You were tired, happens to the best of us.”

She shot him a look. “I grew up here, Mark. I know my way around this place like the back of my hand, yet that street I went into… I’d never seen it before in my entire life.”

“Hm, strange,” he noted. She knew he was mostly humouring her, and couldn’t shake off the feeling he had been judging her ever since they talked over what happened. It must look crazy, she realized, but to her that was no excuse to not be understanding. He was to be her husband, after all, and weren’t those things most important in a healthy relationship?

“Call me crazy if you want, but I’m telling you; I went to a different pub last night.”

“I know, I believe you.”

She gave a slight sigh of relief.

“Now, come on, let’s go find a restaurant, because we’re not going to that pub on an empty stomach.”

 They had searched all over town, with Mark generously tipping the cabby to take them everywhere they wanted. Not necessarily an odd request, but when she started to ask the driver about an old pub with the exact descriptions, - not failing to mention that smoking had been allowed - he gave her a strange look and told her he’d never heard of such a place before.

He must know, as he’d worked as a cabby for ages.

And so, she was currently sat at a random local bar Mark picked out, slumped in her seat, while her fiancée chatted on with Rachel and James. She couldn’t even bring herself to be annoyed with the pair, her mind too clouded to think of anything other than that very clear night.

She touched Mark’s shoulder, and muttered in his ear that she was going back to the hotel.

He nodded, “I’ll text you when I’m coming back. Don’t stay up too late.”

She smiled lightly, and kissed him on the cheek, before slipping out of the door, and leaving the musky scene behind her.

She didn’t really pay attention to where she was going. She was staring down at her feet, which kept their leisure pace on the tiled sidewalk.

She didn’t even bother giving the man in a tracksuit she nearly bumped into a second glance, or the dog that barked at her.

She walked up the few steps, through an alley, until she rounded a corner and was back at what appeared to be the main street. Only then did she actually bump into someone.

“You just keep appearing out of nowhere, don’t you?”

“Miles?”

She rubbed her tired eyes, until the flickering had disappeared, and she could look around again.

A cobblestone street, antique metal streetlights and shop windows filled with antique wear. The man that stood in front of her wore the same suit as yesterday, but without the tie and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

She couldn’t help but throw her arms around his neck in relief.

He huffed in surprise, “Good to see you again too, love. Hope that man of yours hasn’t been treating you poorly again, has he?”

“I’m just relieved to see you again,” she replied, avoiding his question, “I can’t believe I didn’t find this street earlier this afternoon! I went looking all over the place for it! Even asked a cabby, but he didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m so glad I found you.”

A mysterious glint flashed across his eyes. “Look for me, did ya? Worry not, love. You can always find me prancing about in the AM. I’ll most likely still be in bed in the afternoons. Best stay away from me then.”

She snorted as he linked her arm with hers and followed his lead into the pub, missing the way he’d given her a worried glance as she tried to memorize the name of the residence, which was painted in a neat cursive on the sign above it.

Mardy Bum.

 “Taken that bird with you again, Miles?” Alex asked from his seat at the wooden table, his foot sliding a chair out for each of them from underneath the table.

“Couldn’t help myself, Al. I just keep running into her. It’s like fate.”

“Call it fate or whatever you want, mate, but there’s no hiding you’ve always fancied the married girls.”

“Sorry, could you repeat that for me?” Miles held a hand to his ear facetiously. “I couldn’t hear you over the tune of ‘The Bad Thing’.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Are you playing cards with us, or what?”

Miles looked back at her, waiting for her answer. She shrugged, “As long as it’s not strip poker.”

“Shame,” one of the other men at the table muttered, who she recognized from the previous night as Alex’s drummer.

“This is Matt, by the way,” Miles pointed at him, before turning to the other two band members. “And that’s Jamie, and Nick. You remember them from yesterday, no?”

“Of course, you put up a great show.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere in a game of cards, love,” Matt teased, as he shuffled the deck of cards like he’d do every evening.

 And so, the night went on, filled with light and pleasant conversation, and a few more antsy rounds of cards. The beer gradually switched to something stronger, which she identified as a very fine whiskey. Not wanting to think about their tab yet which was bound to arrive at the end of the night, she enjoyed the smooth liquid burning her throat, and beat Jamie once again at his own game.

“I don’t like her,” he grumbled.

“Don’t be petty, Jamie. It’s not her fault you’re shit at cards,” Matt said.

“I’m not shit! I won last time!”

“Last time we let you win because it was your birthday,” Alex smoothly chimed in.

“What?!”

Matt burst out laughing at the guitarist’s aghast facial expression, and she noted even Alex himself smirked along with the merriment. She had only known him for two evenings, but from the lack of lines around his mouth, he didn’t seem like he smiled often, so it was nice to be graced with one.

What she did want to be able to unsee was the way he kept looking at her over the deck in his hands with those dark brown eyes. It made her squirm a bit in her seat.

“So, if we asked you to write an autobiography on the band, would you do it?” Nick asked. She’d told them about her career path, and how she hadn’t been able to write anything for a long while.

“I mean, if that’s what you’d want.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Matt quickly intervened.

“Well, why not?”

“She’d never believe us,” Alex drawled.

She met his eyes once more, and they looked awfully calm.

“No offence, but unless you’re going to tell me you go to Hogwarts and practice magic, I’m afraid you can’t say much that makes me find the story of a band who plays in pubs unrealistic.”

“A band who plays in pubs?! You must be joking,” the bartender suddenly intervened, setting the glass down which he had been drying with a towel for the past half hour. “They’re the most famous band in England! Even have their records played in America, they do. I’m lucky they still play in here, or it wouldn’t be so packed every Friday night.”

“We’d never abandon this place, John. This is where we became men and had our first beverages as adults,” Jamie said, raising his glass.

“Don’t play the fool with me, Jamie. You’d had too many pints before you got drunk to be a first-time drinker, and I’ve seen you sneak through the back when you were younger.”

“I didn’t know there was a certain age you’re supposed to be,” Alex quipped.

“Cause nobody told me!” Miles suddenly shouted, rising from his chair and humming a tune to himself as he cradled his drink closer to his chest.

“For the last time, Miles, if you’re going to dance, please find yourself a partner that isn’t the alcohol.”

The man in question pursed his lips thoughtfully at Alex. “Great idea, mate. I’m gunna take a piss and when I get back, I’ll have found my partner.”

He stumbled off in the direction of the restroom, and the group shared a look, for the hour was growing late and they were the only ones left in the pub.

“Sorry about Miles. He gets awfully vague when he’s drunk,” Nick told her.

She smiled. “Don’t worry about it, I’m having a laugh. I wish I could spend the whole night here. Haven’t had this much fun in a while.”

She noticed Matt trying to subtly glance down at his watch, which was close to striking 3 AM. “Probably not the best idea, love. I think it’s time to go home.”

Alex gave him a look. “Why? She could stay a bit longer, wouldn’t hurt anyone,” he slurred.

“You know why.”

“My fair lady!”

Their heads turned towards the back of the bar, where Miles had gotten down on one knee in front of a mop perched in a dirty bucket. “Please, grace me with a dance.”

The silence that followed seemed to be the cue for Miles to think the mop had accepted his offer, and for Matt to definitely call it a night.

Nick and Jamie helped Miles across the street – after managing to pry the ‘fair lady’ from his arms –  while Matt chatted away with John as he was closing the bar, and she was suddenly left alone with the singer himself.

“May I walk you home?” He asked her. “No funny business, I promise.” Though he’d held his hands up in surrender, the action was contradicted by the mischievous glint in his orbs.

“Sure,” she replied, and a very small part of her wished she had just said ‘no’.

 “So, since you’re famous and all,” she started, her gaze trained upon the way her feet carefully stepped on the individual stones cemented into the street’s dirt. “Have I heard any of your songs before? What were you guys called again?”

“I don’t think you would have. And we’re called the Arctic Monkeys.”

She raised her brow, the name sounding vaguely familiar.

“Stupid name, I know.”

“No,” she quickly said, “Not at all, actually. It’s somehow… Very fitting.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 She smiled at him, until her eyes turned up to the sky, which was filled with flickering lights in the darkest of blues. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

He hummed. “You must not be one to stay up late often, then. It’s beautiful, sure. But not the best sight I’ve ever seen.”

“What is the best sight you’ve ever seen?”

He studied her for a moment, and couldn’t tell if he was deciding on whether to answer her or not, or thinking of long-lost memories. “France. On the countryside. I’ve been all around the world, but that one night – probably caused by the empty bottles of tequila, might I add – was incomparable. Starry, with a really thin crescent moon in the sky, which Jamie described as ‘the moon’s side boob’. I thought that was quite profound. So, I wrote it down. Might even slip it into a song one day.”

The corners of her lips quirked up mischievously, the tingling sensation of the alcohol running through her system finally catching up with her. “Sing me a song, Alex.”

“A song?”

“Yesss,” she pleaded.

“Not sure your husband would agree with that.”

“He’s out and about with Mark and Rachel. Said he’d text me if he’d get back. I think we’ve got time.”

There was a quiver in his stride. “A text, you say?”

She nodded absentmindedly. “Anyways, he’s not my husband, so being serenaded isn’t illegal just yet.”

He let out a chuckle, but it was short-lived. “Could you humour me for a bit?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Could you tell me who’s the ruler of England right now?”

“What?”

“Just- Just answer the question, please.”

“The… the queen.”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t get that wrong, did I? I’m quite plastered, I’m afraid.”

“No, not at all. Perhaps we do have to save that serenade for another night, though.”

They’d halted, but the building in front of them was not one she recognized, and the route they’d taken too short to have been able to get to the hotel. “I don’t think this is-“

He kissed her on the cheek, more gently than she would’ve expected, which left her hanging with her mouth slightly open, numb from sudden surprise.

“Have a good night, love.”

He spared her one last glance, until he turned, and walked back through the dark and deserted street.

She sort of stumbled through the doors, and her eyes widened at the sight, for she was back in her hotel, and when she looked outside, she no longer met with the cobblestone street, but only the cracked asphalt of New Sheffield.

[hikingmysteries]

The (”Mostly Harmless”) Nameless Hiker

Arguably the biggest hiking story of 2020, the tale actually starts a few years ago. Though we love researching and writing our own pieces for Hiking Mysteries, it is tough to top Nicholas Thompson’s article from Wired magazine. So, here it is, along with images.

A Nameless Hiker and the Case the Internet Can’t Crack

The man on the trail went by “Mostly Harmless." He was friendly and said he worked in tech. After he died in his tent, no one could figure out who he was.

IN APRIL 2017, a man started hiking in a state park just north of New York City. He wanted to get away, maybe from something and maybe from everything. He didn’t bring a phone; he didn’t bring a credit card. He didn’t even really bring a name. Or at least he didn’t tell anyone he met what it was.

He did bring a giant backpack, which his fellow hikers considered far too heavy for his journey. And he brought a notebook, in which he would scribble notes about Screeps, an online programming game. The Appalachian Trail runs through the area, and he started walking south, moving slowly but steadily down through Pennsylvania and Maryland. He told people he met along the way that he had worked in the tech industry and he wanted to detox from digital life. Hikers sometimes acquire trail names, pseudonyms they use while deep in the woods. He was “Denim” at first, because he had started his trek in jeans. Later, it became “Mostly Harmless,” which is how he described himself one night at a campfire. Maybe, too, it was a reference to Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Early in the series, a character discovers that Earth is defined by a single word in the guide: harmless. Another character puts in 15 years of research and then adds the adverb. Earth is now “mostly harmless.”

By summer, the hiker was in Virginia, where he walked about a hundred miles with a 66-year-old woman who went by the trail name Obsidian. She taught him how to make a fire, and he told her he was eager to see a bear. On December 1, Mostly Harmless had made it to northern Georgia, where he stopped in a store called Mountain Crossings. A veteran hiker named Matt Mason was working that day, and the two men started talking. Mostly Harmless said that he wanted to figure out a path down to the Florida Keys. Mason told him about a route and a map he could download to his phone. “I don’t have a phone,” Mostly Harmless replied. Describing the moment, Mason remembers thinking, “Oh, this guy’s awesome.” Everyone who goes into the woods is trying to get away from something. But few people have the commitment to cut their digital lifelines as they put on their boots.

Mason printed the 60 pages of the map and sold it to Mostly Harmless for $5 cash, which the hiker pulled from a wad of bills that Mason remembers being an inch thick. Mason loves hikers who are a little bit different, a little bit strange. He asked Mostly Harmless if he could take a picture. Mostly Harmless hesitated but then agreed. He then left the shop and went on his way. Two weeks later, Mason heard from a friend in Alabama who had seen Mostly Harmless hiking through a snowstorm. “He was out there with a smile on his face, walking south,” Mason recalls.

By the last week of January, he was in northern Florida, walking on the side of Highway 90, when a woman named Kelly Fairbanks pulled over to say hello. Fairbanks is what is known as a “trail angel,” someone who helps out through-hikers who pass near her, giving them food and access to a shower if they want. She was out looking for a different hiker when she saw Mostly Harmless. She pulled over, and they started to chat. He said that he had started in New York and was heading down to Key West. She asked if he was using the Florida Trail App, and he responded that he didn’t have a phone.

Fairbanks took notice of his gear—which was a mix of high-end and generic, including his black-and-copper trekking poles. And she was struck by his rugged, lonely look. “He had very kind eyes. I saw the huge beard first and thought, ‘It’s an older guy.’ But his eyes were so young, and he didn’t have crow's feet. I realized he was a lot younger.” She was concerned though, the way she used to be concerned about her two younger brothers. The trail could be confusing, and it wouldn’t be long before everything started getting intolerably hot and muggy. “I remembered him because I was worried,” she added.

Six months later and 600 miles south, on July 23, 2018, two hikers headed out into the Big Cypress National Preserve. The humidity was oppressive, but they trudged forward, crossing swamps, tending aching feet, and dodging the alligators and snakes. About 10 miles into their journey, they stopped to rest their feet at a place called Nobles Camp. There they saw a yellow tent and a pair of boots outside. Something smelled bad, and something seemed off. They called out, then peered through the tent’s windscreen. An emaciated, lifeless body was looking up at them. They called 911.

“Uh, we just found a dead body.”

IT’S USUALLY EASY to put a name to a corpse. There’s an ID or a credit card. There’s been a missing persons report in the area. There’s a DNA match. But the investigators in Collier County couldn’t find a thing. Mostly Harmless’ fingerprints didn’t show up in any law enforcement database. He hadn’t served in the military, and his fingerprints didn’t match those of anyone else on file. His DNA didn’t match any in the Department of Justice’s missing person database or in CODIS, the national DNA database run by the FBI. A picture of his face didn’t turn up anything in a facial recognition database. The body had no distinguishing tattoos.

Nor could investigators understand how or why he died. There were no indications of foul play, and he had more than $3,500 cash in the tent. He had food nearby, but he was hollowed out, weighing just 83 pounds on a 5'8" frame. Investigators put his age in the vague range between 35 and 50, and they couldn’t point to any abnormalities. The only substances he tested positive for were ibuprofen and an antihistamine. His cause of death, according to the autopsy report, was “undetermined.” He had, in some sense, just wasted away. But why hadn’t he tried to find help? Almost immediately, people compared Mostly Harmless to Chris McCandless, whose story was the subject of Into the Wild. McCandless, though, had been stranded in the Alaska bush, trapped by a raging river as he ran out of food. He died on a school bus, starving, desperate for help, 22 miles of wilderness separating him from a road. Mostly Harmless was just 5 miles from a major highway. He left no note, and there was no evidence that he had spent his last days calling out for help.

The investigators were stumped. To find out what had happened, they needed to learn who he was. So the Florida Department of Law Enforcement drew up an image of Mostly Harmless, and the Collier County investigators shared it with the public. In the sketch, his mouth is open wide, and his eyes too. He has a gray and black beard, with a bare patch of skin right below the mouth. His teeth, as noted in the autopsy, are perfect, suggesting he had good dental care as a child. He looks startled but also oddly pleased, as if he’s just seen a clown jump out from behind a curtain. The image started to circulate online along with other pictures from his campsite, including his tent and his hiking poles.

Kelly Fairbanks works at the Army and Air Force exchange store on a Florida military base. She normally monitors the CCTV cameras for shoplifters, but if there’s no one in the store she might sneak a look at Facebook. It was a quiet moment, and suddenly the picture popped into her feed. There he was: eyes wide open and looking up. She recognized the eyes and the beard. “I started freaking out,” she says. It was the kind man she’d seen on Highway 90. The sheriff’s office had also posted a photo of the hiker’s poles, and Fairbanks knew she had an image of the same man holding the same gear.

She clicked right over to the Collier County Sheriff’s Facebook page and sent in two photographs she had taken of Mostly Harmless. She got a message back immediately asking for her phone number. Soon a detective was on the line asking, “What can you tell me?”

She told him everything she knew. And she shared the original post, and her photo, all over Facebook. Soon there were dozens of people jumping in. They had seen the hiker too. They had journeyed with him for a few hours or a few days. They had sat at a campfire with him. There was a GoPro video in which he appeared. People remembered him talking about a sister in either Sarasota or Saratoga. They thought he had said he was from near Baton Rouge. One person remembered that he ate a lot of sticky buns; another said that he loved ketchup. But no one knew his name. When the body of Chris McCandless was found in the wilds of Alaska in the summer of 1992 without any identification, it took authorities only two weeks to figure out his identity. A friend in South Dakota, who’d known McCandless as “Alex,” heard a discussion of the story on AM radio and called the authorities. Clues followed quickly, and McCandless’ family was soon found.

Now it’s 2020, and we have the internet. Facebook knows you’re pregnant almost before you do. Amazon knows your light bulb is going to go out right before it does. Put details on Twitter about a stolen laptop and people will track down the thief in a Manhattan bar. The internet can decode family mysteries, identify long-forgotten songs, solve murders, and, as this magazine showed a decade ago, track down almost anyone who tries to shed their digital skin. This case seemed easy.

An avid Facebook group committed to figuring out his identity soon formed. Reddit threads popped up to analyze the notes he had taken for Screeps. Amateur detectives tracked down leads and tried to match photographs in missing persons databases. A massive timeline was constructed on Websleuths.com. Was it possible, one Dr. Oz viewer asked, that Mostly Harmless was a boy featured on the show who went missing in 1982? Was it possible that Mostly Harmless was a suspect in Arkansas who had murdered his girlfriend in 2017? None of the photos matched.

The story pulled people in. Everyone, at some point, has wanted to put their phone in a garbage can and head off with a fake name and a wad of cash. Here was someone who had done it and who seemed to have so much going for him: He was kind, charming, educated. He knew how to code. And yet he had died alone in a yellow tent. Maybe he had been chased by demons and had sought an ending like this. Or maybe he had just been outmatched by the wilderness and the Florida heat.

It just wasn’t a normal story in any way. And, as Fairbanks said, “he was a good-looking dude,” which, she notes, might explain why so many of the searchers are women. In mid-October, one woman in the Facebook group posted a slideshow comparing his photos to those of Brad Pitt. “Actually I think MH looks better. 😉,” one commenter wrote.

The dude, though, seemed to have followed, to near perfection, the hiker credo of “Leave no trace.” None of the clues panned out. Nothing actually got people close to solving the mystery. An industrious writer named Jason Nark spent more than a year obsessively tracking down leads and then wrote an elegy to the hiker that began, “Sometimes I imagine him falling through space, drifting like dust from dead stars in the vast nowhere above us.”

Natasha Teasley manages a canoe and kayak company in North Carolina. As business slowed when the coronavirus hit, she started to spend more time online, and she started to fill the gap in her life with the hunt for Mostly Harmless. She sent flyers to the Chambers of Commerce in every city where people thought he might have come from, including Sarasota, Florida, and Saratoga Springs, New York. She tracked down details about every car that was towed out of Harriman State Park, where he likely started his journey. She scoured missing persons databases. I asked her what motivated her to spend so much time looking for a man she’d never met. She responded achingly, “He’s got to be missed. Someone must miss this guy.”

WHEN WE THINK of DNA tests, we normally think of their miraculous ability to give us a yes or a no. The unique thread of base pairs that make us who we are exists in every cell. So we take the genetic information found at a crime scene, or in the saliva on a coffee cup, or on the hand of a deceased hiker. Then we look closely at roughly 20 chunks, or what geneticists call markers, and we search in a database of collected samples to see whether the markers match. Imagine if a book, 1 million pages long but without a cover, washed up on the shore. And then imagine you could scan one page and search all the books in a giant database to see if that exact page appeared. That’s conventional DNA testing.

But DNA also can tell the story of human history. By running a different kind of test, you get beyond yes or no and into a million variations of maybe. The genetic markers in your body are closer to those of your first cousin than your third. And they’re closer to those of your third cousin than your sixth. There’s a little bit of each generation in each of us, from our parents to our great grandparents to the early apes of the forests of Africa. So now imagine that book, and imagine that instead of comparing one page, you could compare everything in the book with everything in all other books, to find similar words, syntax, and themes. You would need complicated math and pattern tracing, but, eventually, you might figure out the author. And so, early in the summer of 2020, the organizers of the Facebook group searching for Mostly Harmless’ identity sent news about the case to a Houston company called Othram. It had been started two years earlier and pitches itself as a one-stop shop for solving cold cases.

Othram’s founder, David Mittelman, is a geneticist who had worked on the original human genome project, and he was drawn to this odd case. The company asks the public for suggestions for mysteries to solve, and that’s one of the best parts of the job. “I like doing the cases from the tip line,” Mittelman told me. “Lab work for the sake of lab work is kind of boring.” If he could crack the hiker’s identity, he’d get attention for his technology. But there was something else, too, drawing him in, a riddle he wanted to answer. The hiker seemed to have found an internet family but had no connection to his real one.

Othram called up the Collier County Sheriff’s Office and offered to help. DNA analysis is expensive, though, and the company estimated that the whole project—from evidence to answers—would cost $5,000. The sheriff's office couldn't spend that much money on a case that involved no crime. But it would love Othram’s help if there were another way to pay for the work. And so three of the great trends of modern technology—crowdfunding, amateur sleuthing, and cutting-edge genomics—combined. Within eight days, the Facebook group had raised the money to run the analysis. Soon a small piece of bone from the hiker was on its way west from Collier County to the Othram labs.

The first step for Othram’s team was to extract DNA from the bone fragment and to then analyze it to make sure they had enough to proceed. They did, and so they soon put small samples of DNA onto glass slides, which they inserted into a sequencer, a machine that costs roughly a million dollars and looks like a giant washing machine made by Apple.

Unfortunately, it’s a washing machine that has a long run cycle. And it doesn’t always work. Sometimes the pages of the book you find are ripped or blurry. Sometimes the process is iterative and you have to tape fragments back together. So, as the sequencer spun, the Facebook hunters fretted that, once again, nothing would come of a promising lead. But by mid-August, Othram had a clean read on the DNA: They knew exactly what combination of As, Cs, Gs, and Ts had combined to create the mysterious hiker. A company spokesperson appeared live on the Facebook group’s page to detail the progress; posters responded with gratitude and euphoria.

Science sometimes gets harder with every step, though, and having the sequence was just the beginning. In order to identify Mostly Harmless, the team at Othram would have to compare his genetic information with other people’s. And they would start with a service called GEDMatch, a database of DNA samples that people have submitted, voluntarily, to answer their own hopes and questions—they want to find a lost half-sister or a clue about their grandpa. That collection of DNA has become a cornucopia for law enforcement. Each new sample submitted provides one more book for the library that can be searched and scoured. It was through this technique that investigators in Contra Costa County, California, found the Golden State Killer in the spring of 2018, connecting a DNA sample of the killer to GEDMatch samples of relatives. Just this past week, Othram helped law enforcement identify the murderer of a 5-year-old in Missoula, Montana, a case that had gone unsolved for 46 years.

It’s been over a month since Othram started looking through the GEDmatch database. It won’t say anything about what it has found, and the Collier County Sheriff’s Office is keeping quiet as well. But one source outside of the company who is familiar with its progress says that, while Othram doesn’t know Mostly Harmless’ name, it has found enough matching patterns to identify the region of the country from which his ancestors hail.

That isn’t sufficient though. Knowing for sure, for example, that his relatives came from Baton Rouge doesn’t mean Mostly Harmless came from Baton Rouge. His parents could have been born there and moved to Montreal. He could have been born in Louisiana and dropped on a doorstep in Maine. But, right now, the data scientists at Othram are combing through all the DNA samples in GEDMatch, looking for patterns and trying to circle closer to his identity. They’re most likely building out a family tree. Let’s say they found someone in GEDMatch whose DNA seems like a fourth cousin of Mostly Harmless, and then perhaps someone who seems like a third cousin. How do those two people connect? Through this sort of slow, painstaking analysis, they can get closer to an answer. Soon they might find his extended family, and then perhaps his parents’ names. And then law enforcement will be able to solve a case that has stumped them for more than two years.

They might get there, and they might not. A source familiar with the work suggests that the earliest we’ll get an answer is December. Unless between now and then, perhaps, someone reading this article or browsing a Facebook group recognizes his face. Or puts together clues that have eluded everyone else. Finally, he won’t be “Mostly Harmless”; he’ll have a real name.

And then, with that mystery solved, a new one will open up. Why did Mostly Harmless walk into the woods? And why, when things started to go wrong, didn’t he walk out?

[girlinthepictureframe]

The Briefest Kiss Part 12

P 12

Miles woke up feeling better rested and more at ease with the world than he had felt in a long, long time. The warm rays of the early morning sun were softly warming his cheek, the pillow had taken on the perfect shape around his head and Alex's short strands of hair were gently tickling his neck. All of that made him almost forget that he had an awful, throbbing headache. Damned Alex and his damned Vodka!

His eyes flew open. He held his breath as his view drifted towards his side, where Alex Turner, platonic friend and absolutely not sleeping-mate, was snoring softly, curled up against his side. Miles became aware that he had one arm tightly wrapped around him, keeping him impossibly close.

Oh no. Not again.

Had they not, just yesterday, promised to each other never to do this very thing ever again?

Miles took another glance at Alex. He was wearing clothes. It was the same shirt he had worn yesterday. And he himself was wearing clothes as well. And shoes, as he now sensed. His alertness began to return him. The sleepiness began to drift away.

Images of last night began to fill his head. Alex had made them omelets. Then they had played guitars for a bit. At some point a bottle of Vodka had appeared. Naturally, they had begun drinking it. Alex had spent half an hour meticulously going through the notes in his biology book, trying and failing to figure out why Miles wanted it. They had laughed and chatted and enjoyed each other's company. At some point in the middle of the night he'd crawled into Alex's bed. He had a vague memory of Alex crawling in with him.

And now here they were.

On the wrong side of the 'we are just friends'-fence.

He felt movements next to him. In a wild blur of movements, Alex jumped out of bed and stood next to it, staring at Miles in shock and confusion. “Oh God! Did we...?”

“NO!”

“Good!” Alex squinted, shook his head. “It's good, right! I mean, you know what I mean. Right? Right?!”

“Alex? We're good. It's good.”

“Good.”

“We need to be more careful, don't we?” Miles couldn't believe how reckless they had been. “The whole boundaries-thing, it's new. We should pay more attention to it.”

“Definitely,” agreed Alex and nodded. He rubbed his eyes, sat back down on the bed. Leaned back against the headboard. Looked down at Miles. And promptly jumped up again. Miles got up just as quickly. Reckless, indeed.

“Coffee,” suggested Miles. “We need coffee. Lots of it.”

Alex followed him out of the room wordlessly. Downstairs, the dining room table was set with two plates, a pot of no-longer steaming coffee rested in the middle, surrounded by toast, butter and scrambled eggs. David Turner was sitting in the corner of the room, by the window, reading the newspaper.

“Mornin', boys. Nice of you to show up. Almost noon already.”

Had they slept that long? Miles blinked a few times, still a bit sleepy and a whole lot shaken from waking up next to Alex. His just-a-friend Alex. His very soft, warm, tempting, deliciously well-smelling, surprisingly cuddly friend Alex. The very one who was giving him a strange look just now. “Huh?”

“Did you just moan?”

Did he? Get a grip, Miles admonished himself. “No, I yawned!”

“Okay.” Alex appeared unconvinced but nonetheless busied himself with breakfast. “Will you stay today? Should we make plans?”

“No,” said Miles and was grateful for a topic which he felt much more equipped to handle at this early – or late – hour of the morning. “I hadn't intended on staying the night,” he admitted. But he'd been unable to leave. Being around Alex after all that time apart had felt too good to give up too soon. “I'm leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow. I have yet to pack and get some stuff.” And he needed, ridiculous as it sounded, a bit of space. So much of Alex after such a long period of longing for him was overloading his senses.

“So you leave already?”

He heard the disappointment and tried to explain it to him. “Well, yeah. You know, I was offered to open for you in Mexico and figured I'd spend the days before that visiting some old friends. There's a tv appearance I have to do as well. And the band and I haven't played a whole set in a bit so we definitely need to rehearse.” He also hadn't intended to be friends with Alex again at this point. The idea of spending the weekend in Mexico with him and the Monkeys had been a bit intimidating to say the least so he had planned on staying as busy as possible in the days leading up to it. Now he wished he'd some more free time on his hands. “When will you and the band head to Mexico?”

“Next week or so,” said Alex. “We haven't fully decided yet.” He nibbled on a dry toast. “Will you be in Mexico for your birthday?”

“No, LA.” Miles wasn't too happy about the prospect of spending that day without Alex. “We'll have to celebrate when we meet again, then.”

“No way,” stated Alex and placed the toast away, rubbing his hands to get rid of the crumbs. “I'll come to LA. I'll figure it out. We'll figure it out.”

“You have rehearsals and all that!” Miles wanted to spend his day with Alex, but he also didn't want to be responsible for him falling behind on his band-duties. “Your tour continues soon!”

Alex waved him off. “We've been playing the same songs over and over again for a year. Trust me, I can do with one day less of rehearsals! I'll be there, Miles. Gift and all.” Alex smiled. “Which reminds me, I still have your Christmas gift. Shit, where did I take it?”

Miles chuckled. “What do mean, where did you take it? And you know I don't need any gifts from you. Having you there is more than enough, Al!”

“That's sweet, but nonsense.” Alex snapped his fingers. “London! I took it to London! No wait...I didn't unpack in London. I think it's in Paris by now.”

After checking the time while Alex pondered his last stays, Miles got up. “Shit, I have to get ready. Mind if I take a shower, maybe borrow a shirt?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Since when do you have to ask. Just go do it. My home is your home!”

“My home,” muttered Alex's father from the corner of the room.

“Whatever,” said Alex.

“Thanks,” grinned Miles.

Mid March

“Look at you,” grinned Jamie as Miles blew out the candles of his birthday cake, “getting older and older.”

“Getting crinklier each year,” added Nick.

“Is that a grey hair?” wondered Matt.

Alex, who sat next to Miles, and across from the other Monkeys, chuckled. Some other people were there as well. It was midnight, the night before Miles' birthday. They had all come out to LA to celebrate and party into the day for they had to leave the next one.

“Fellas, I love you all,” pronounced Miles full of joy, grabbed his glass and lifted it for a toast. “To new beginnings and a fucking amazing time!” He slung one arm loosely around Alex. All in the name of a platonic friendship, he told himself, and not because his friend looked downright fuckable in that tightly fitted shirt. Alex's smile got bigger and Miles took that as reassurance that he hadn't yet crossed any barb-wired, high-voltage-barred lines. So deep into the night and so far from being sober, he had to be extremely careful with where he placed his steps. One inch too far and then what?

“To the new and improved us,” said Alex quietly into Miles' ear while everyone else busied themselves with the cake. “Happy Birthday, Miles. Will you come outside with me for a moment?”

“Of course!” His arm slipped from Alex's shoulder but Alex caught his hand, held on to it and while he didn't entwine their fingers as they would have done in the old days, he still grabbed them tightly. It did funny things to Miles' stomach. 'Watch out,” chimed his conscience – a hollow and ignored warning. When they reached the patio of the restaurant, Miles gave Alex all of his attention.“What's on your mind, Al?” He had wanted to call him 'love', as he used to, but had stopped himself just in time.

Alex reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “I wanted to give you your birthday present. But I'm not sure you'll like it so I didn't want any witnesses!” He held out the envelope. “For you. I put a lot of thought into it!”

Miles smiled radiantly. “Is it a gift certificate for Bed, Bath and Beyond?”

“Better,” assured Alex.

“Oh, Ikea?”

“Just open it, will you?”

Miles did. And the smile fell from his face. “Alex. What have you done?” He sat down on the nearest bench and took a closer look at what he was holding. It was a post card with the image of a beach with penguins on it, and the backside read, 'One trip to Boulder Beach, South Africa, to spend a week with the penguins.' He looked up, finding Alex nervously trying and failing to light a cigarette.

“It's just a gift, Mi.”

Alex hadn't called him that in half a year. What an odd little jump his heart did at that. But it wasn't enough to distract him from Alex's generous gift. “It's too much!”

“Miles, trust me. I can afford it. You can afford it! I always wondered why you haven't gone there already. You always wanted to see them.” He finally got the cigarette lit up and inhaled deeply. “It doesn't have a fixed date. I'll give you the official paperwork later. You can go whenever you want. And it's for two people, so you can take a friend or...you know...somebody.” The last word he said almost inaudibly.

“There's no somebody,” Miles pointed out right away. It mattered a great deal to him that Alex knew that.

“Doesn't matter, does it? Someday there will be a somebody.” Alex just wouldn't meet Miles' eyes, no matter how hard he tried to catch his sight. “Wait until then. Or not. Go now. Take your mom. I was just trying to get you something nice. Like I said, it's always been your dream.”

Miles' dream was going to the most exotic place in the world, where it was either warm and sunny, or cold and snowy, or wet and stormy, and see something so remote and rare and beautiful that he would remember it for the rest of his life. But that wasn't the part that mattered most to him. He wanted to go there with Alex. He wanted to share the memory with him. At some point he'd mentioned wanting to see penguins and it had become a thing. But he didn't so much care for the penguins as he cared for person who'd be standing next to him once he got to them. It had become a dream he'd almost given up on last year. There were times when he doubted he'd share any kind of memory with Alex ever again.

Yet here he was. With Alex. And all he had to do was tell him to pack his bag and join him. Dream come true. Only, Alex would never know that he was part of Miles' dream. Which, in return, made the whole dream lose all meaning.

“I do suck at gifts, don't I?” Alex sat down next to him as a shadow of sadness cast over his face. He flipped the dead cigarette away.

Miles wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulder, pulled him against his side and kissed his head. He knew he was pushing the boundary hard at the moment, but he felt bereft of any other option. He needed his next words to land so he spoke them as sternly as he could. “I love you. This gift is incredibly thoughtful and you'll never know how grateful I am for it. You tried to make my dream come true. That means the world to me! But,” he spoke softly, handing back the post card, “I can't take it.”

“Why not?” Asked Alex, not making any moves to detach himself from Miles.

“It's too much, Alex. It's too big. It's not the kind of gift you and I should be making each other.”

Alex wiggled his arm free, curled it around Miles' neck and returned the kiss, pressing his lips to Miles' forehead. “I truly don't understand why you're doing it. Being honest here!” His expression got softer. “But I know you wouldn't do it unless you got your reasons.” He finally met Miles' eyes. Then he placed the card back into his pocket. “Can I at least invite you to a movie once we're back in London? If you're afraid it'll be too big of a gift, you can pay for your own popcorn!”

A bashful grin lit up his face and he found Alex's pouty reply adorable. “Don't worry, babe. You can buy me all the popcorn in the world. And chocolate. And gummy bears. I'll endeavor to be the most expensive date of your life!”

Alex laughed, all remnants of sadness gone from his face. Then he paused and met Miles' happy expression with a one of equal parts perplexity and mockery. Alex's one brow curved upward in that certain way that Miles found unbelievably sexy.

That was until his own words sank in, at which point he rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell! Not date, damnit! Evening. And now I actually am tempted to pay for my own popcorn!”

“Don't you dare,” warned Alex and smirked. They still held on to each other. “Oh, hey, I've been meaning to ask you something. Did you take my black shirt? The one with the white stripes? I had it Sheffield, but now I can't find it anymore. And I know you took something out of my bag. But you vanished so bloody fast that day, I hardly saw you after breakfast!”

“I had to catch the train,” said Miles defensively. “You told me to take whatever!”

“That's my favorite shirt!”

“And it looks really good on me!” He flashed him a saucy grin. “Want it back?”

“Oh, you bet I do! Expect me to come get it later!”

“Here you are!” Matt called from the terrace door. “There's a birthday party happening on the inside but the guest of honor has gone missing!”

“On our way,” assured Miles, grabbed Alex's hand and pulled him along, back inside. “By the way, I also took your black alligator leather belt!”

“Fuck, Miles! I searched for hours for that thing!” Alex's hand went to Miles' suit jacket, pushed it upward. “Are you wearing it now? You are! I don't believe you!” He curled his fingers around the buckle. “Give it to me right now!”

They came to a halt in a corner. Miles stopped, Alex bumped against Miles' front and suddenly their lips were only an inch apart. Alex still held on to Miles' belt. For a long moment the world stopped moving. It was just them, in a room full of people, who, in that very instant, all ceased to exist.

Miles could smell the liquor on Alex's breath, felt the pulsating drum of his own heart that came with being so close to him. Alex's fingers, glued to the belt buckle, were entirely too close to one undeniably curious part of his anatomy and when his friend's eyes dropped down, coming to linger on his lips, Miles could feel the remnants of his self-control fighting with the legions of lust which had all come prepared for battle. “Boundary,” he whispered, damning himself for remembering just how insanely kissable Alex's lips were. “We must keep a distance.”

Alex nodded shakily. He carefully let go of the belt. Took a step backwards. “Drink?”

“Yes!”

Three hours later, and so fucking drunk they could no longer walk straight lines, Miles and Alex stumbled down the hallway of Miles' apartment, not singing but shouting the lyrics to one of their old tunes.

“And she tried so hard,” went Alex.

“To steal away from the Meeting Place,” followed Miles.

“Steer away.” Alex halted. “Door!”

“Why should I steer away from my door?” His mind was too foggy for Alex's vague remark. “Be more specific. I'm very drunk!”

Alex laughed. A drunken, gigglish laugh. “Lyrics, Mi. Steer away. Not steal away. However,” he said, holding up a finger to emphasize his words, “steal away would work. Or not?” He blinked once. Twice. “What were you saying?”

Miles frowned. “I don't know. What was I saying?” The hallway began to spin. “We should get inside. I think the floor is about to give out. I swear I just saw it move!”

“The floor?” Alex shook his head. Then his hand shot out, holding onto Miles' shoulder. “Oh, I saw it too! It's a trick floor! Must be.”

“I've heard of those,” said Miles. “Why won't you open the door?” He gave Alex a disapproving look. Time was running out on them. Although he couldn't say why. His thoughts were very confusing at the moment.

“It's your place.”

“I live here?”

Alex nodded.

“Oh. Oh, I have to unlock then!” And he did. Or tried. Tried again. And, at long last, succeeded. “Voila! Ooh, that's a french word. I just spoke French!”

Loud, vibrating laughter bursted from Alex. “Well done, Miles. Well done!” And he stumbled inside.

Miles followed him into the apartment, got rid of his jacket and kicked off his shoes. “Good night!”

“Wait, Mi. My belt!”

“Right!” He lifted his shirt, undid the buckle and pulled it out of the loops with one swift move before holding it out for Alex. His friend looked at him with heavy, lidded eyes, an expression of dark, vicious hunger on his face. “Why are looking me like I'm a chocolate cake?”

Alex licked in lips and gulped. Which, in return, made Miles zoom in on Alex's mouth. His perfectly shaped, undoubtedly warm and luscious mouth. “You look at me like I'm a bloody burger,” retorted Alex and took a step towards him. “I want my shirt, too!”

“What shirt? This shirt?”

“No, my shirt. My favorite shirt.” Another step. Alex pressed his still outstretched but until now forgotten finger into Miles' chest. “Black shirt. White stripes. You took it, you thief.”

“Only cause it smells of you,” confessed Miles. “Oh, I said that out loud, didn't I?” His eyes dropped to where Alex was touching his chest. “You mustn't tell yourself this, it's a sinful secret, and you and I friends, so we don't share sinful secrets,” he whispered, “but I so very much like the way you smell!” His head dipped down a little bit, his forehead now touching Alex's. “I really, really, really like the way you smell.”

Alex's flattened his palm against Miles' front, began rubbing up and down in small, languid strokes. He pressed his nose against that of his friend. “I miss how you used to smell,” admitted Alex, his voice low and husky. “But you changed your cologne.”

“Cause you told me to,” Miles reminded him.

“I know. I'm stupid like that.”

Now both of Alex's hands travelled across the planes of Miles' upper body, wrecking havoc on Miles's control. In the very far, dimly lit part of his head where his self-control was drifting off to sleep and his better judgement was struggling to remain awake, his wild desires crept from the shadows. Having Alex touch him like this was like a jolt of pure, uncontrollable energy. Every carefully sedated fiber of desire was shocked back to life.

Alex curled a hand around Miles' neck, dug his nose into his skin, tempting Miles to let go of the reigns and allow his arousal to run free. When Alex began to nuzzle along Miles' jawbone, then lower, near his earlobe, Miles closed his eyes, holding on the last shards of control. “Boundaries,” he reminded him in a voice so hoarse and strained he barely recognized it as his own.

“I'm not breaking boundaries,” claimed Alex in a bold-faced lie, with a tone that betrayed all pretense. “I'm just trying to figure out if I like your new cologne.”

“Figure it out faster,” begged Miles.

He felt Alex smile against the overly sensitive skin just behind his earlobe. “Why?”

“Cause I'm about to lose it.”

Alex detached from Miles, met his eyes, but couldn't focus on them. His gaze kept dropped to Miles' lips. Alex touched his cheek, angling his head with one hand as he took hold of Miles' tie with his other one, grabbing it near the knot, fisting it. “Lose it, then.”

A heartbeat passed. And then they were kissing. Wild, reckless and uncontrollable. There was nothing slow and soft or even tender about it. Just open mouths, wet tongues and filthy, dirty lust at its finest. Miles found himself pushed up against the back of his sofa, digging into the soft hair of Alex's outgrown buzzcut, craving his friend's kiss so utterly, so absolutely, that he couldn't even stop to undress him.

And that's when it hit him.

Here they were. Again. Six months later. Doing the same fucking thing. A wave of nausea and disgust overcame him and he pushed Alex off him. “Stop! Stop, damnit!”

Alex stumbled backwards, dazed and breathless.

“Fucking hell,” shot Miles, burying his face in his hands. When Alex made a move towards him, Miles quickly moved away, around the sofa. A physical barrier was exactly what he needed. “What are we doing?”

Alex, still looking lost, shrugged. “What we both wanted?”

“What we— Are you fucking kidding me? We're barely back to being friends, Alex! No kissing, we said.”

“I know!”

“Then why are we fucking kissing?!”

“'Cause you were there and I was there and...” Alex rubbed his face. “Damnit, Miles! Do you have any idea how hard it is not to kiss you? It's all I can think about. All day. All night. All the fucking time! When you're in reach, when I all I have to do is grab you, it becomes impossible not to do it. I know we said we would keep a distance. But had I no idea it would be so bloody hard! I want to follow our rules but…Miles, it has never been this way before! I've never longed so completely, so overwhelmingly for anyone in my life. I'm fucking starving for you! And I know you don't understand what I'm talking about but—”

“Every single cell in my body craves you, Alex.” Miles wanted to laugh. Not understand him? Oh, how fucking ridiculous that idea was! “There are moments when I want you so badly I could tear out my hair! I wake up in the middle of the night and find myself screaming into my pillow cause I've dreamt about you and I'm fucking hard and you're just not there to have! So don't you dare tell me I don't understand what you're talking about!”

Alex made his way around the sofa. “If I want you and you want me, why can't we—”

“'Cause it will ruin our friendship and you know it!” As if he hadn't thought about it! As if the thought of just giving in to his needs didn't cross his mind every minute, every hour, every day! But it would never be enough. It wasn't the physical act of being with Alex that satisfied him so greatly – even though it was very well-satisfying! – it was the act of being with Alex. It was the act of being entwined with the one the person that knew him inside and out. It was the act of sharing immense pleasure with the one person he knew inside and out.

What Alex suggested would no doubt please his body. But it would drain his soul and lay waste to his heart. It would kill him slowly. And it would lead to the bitter end of a beautiful friendship. Miles sat down on the sofa, staring at Alex, hoping he understood any of it. “You and I aren't made to for something like that. And I will never risk losing you for just a bit of sex!”

Alex dropped down next to him. “I don't remember how we used to do this, Miles. We've been best friends for almost half of our lives. Until now, we've never had a need for boundaries and lines. What changed?”

“Nothing changed.” The haze from the liquor began to settle and the lingering adrenaline from almost detonating his renewed friendship with Alex had helped him regain some control of his mind. But his body was tired. His limbs felt heavy. His muscles were sore, almost as if he'd run a marathon. “Think about it, Alex. You say we never needed any lines? We built a bloody minefield! But we didn't place it around our hands and lips. We locked our hearts in. We always pretended that all we did was play around. We pushed each other. We were reckless. There's a reason you never stayed the night when we shared a bed, even if it was just for sleep. There's a reason we don't ever explain our lyrics or question each other about them.”

Averting his eyes, getting up, then pacing the room, Alex struggled and Miles could tell. But wasn't it time they talked about this? Alex stopped to stare at the ceiling, then squeezed his eyes shut. “There isn't a line or a word in any of all that I've ever written that—there's nothing that ever needed to be locked off!”

“Golden Trunks. Is it about me?”

Alex shot him a look of crimson anger. “I know that she told you that it is. There's no reason to rehash this!”

“That's what I'm fucking talking about, Alex! This is you, drawing big, fat line.”

“What do you want me to fucking say, Miles? Huh?! Do you need me to spill it out for you? Yes, okay? Yes, I, Alex Turner, fantasize about you. How's that a new information?” he asked full of biting sarcasm.

“You broke up with the woman whose name you had inked on your arm over a line in a song that barely anyone even knows!”

“So did you,” Alex snapped irately. Then he walked up to Miles, to tower in front of him. “You want honesty? Tell me what you and Taylor were fighting over two years ago!”

Miles looked away. “You really don't want to know.”

“Oh, I do!”

2017

“I owe you an apology.” Miles took a seat next to Taylor by the pool of Alex' LA home. Alex was in the midst of a discussion with some other people which had come to one of his impromptu-barbecues. The other Monkeys were in town as well, all busy with recording their new album. Taylor crossed her arms as she met Miles' eyes. He sighed. “I mean it, T. I did something that I shouldn't have done for a vast variety of reasons. But most importantly, I shouldn't have done it because he wasn't mine to kiss. I'm sorry.”

“To be perfectly honest, I couldn't care less about the kiss.” She looked away, distracted by some noises coming from the pool. She kept her attention there. “You broke Hannah's heart.”

“I know.” He looked elsewhere, too, now. “And she knows I never intended for it to happen. That's doesn't take away from what I did, though. It was a bad—”

“Her heart was doomed when you asked her to be your girlfriend,” said Taylor, startling Miles. “And so was mine, by the way, when I asked him out and he said yes.”

“Taylor,” tried Miles, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“No, I'm not done. You and Alex have fans, did you know? Fans who care less about your music and more about your personal relationship? At first I found it funny, even a bit cute. Then I observed the two of you on tour. On stage. I even saw him snuck out of your room once, in the middle of the night, in a bathrobe, when I came to surprise him. I never told him that.”

“He fell asleep on the bloody couch,” lied Miles, annoyed. He felt caught. A strange, irritating emotion.

“Fucking liar!” She shot loudly.

“Would you calm down,” Miles hissed. “There are other people here!”

“Why should I care? Are you suddenly worried people might get the wrong idea about you and Alex?” She tossed out a bitter laugh. “I don't believe that you played Hannah or that he's pretending to care for me. But deep down,” she told him as she stared into his eyes, “you know there's something more going on. Tell me that I'm wrong. Tell me that it's all just make-believe for the fans. Tell me!”

He couldn't tell her.

“Here's why the thought of me didn't keep you from kissing my boyfriend: you think he belongs to you. You consider him yours. Want to apologize? Apologize for that.”

They sat in silence for a while and Miles let her words sink in. He had to give it to her, she did struck a nerve. And it made him angry. It unraveled him that she read him so well, even though he worked so bloody hard to keep those feelings to himself. It pissed him off that she had the nerve to state so bluntly what he himself tried so hard to deny. And it annoyed him that she looked so fucking smug about it.

“No apology?” Taylor smirked. “Must bother you that he hasn't broken up with me yet.”

Miles bit his tongue, tried to be better than her, tried to fight his urge to sink low. He knew that she was hurt. He knew it was his fault.

“Guess my kiss tastes better than yours.”

And he lost the fight. “Every night he didn't spend in your arms,” whispered Miles, leaning into her to make sure she was the only one who heard, “he spent in mine.” Then he got up, grabbed his jacket and left.

Present Day

Alex watched him impatiently. “Seriously, Miles. I want to know!”

“There goes our friendship,” murmured Miles and got up, to walk over to the window. He lit himself a cigarette. “Short version? I apologized, she said some stuff I didn't want to hear and I said something to shut her up and make her feel bad.”

“You insulted her?” Alex sounded so surprised. “She would have told me that. And you don't insult people! You've never done that!”

“It wasn't an insult, okay? It was a lie. Or not.” He rolled his eyes, met Alex's. “Why is that so important now?”

“'Cause ever since that argument she believed that you and I were in love.”

Miles wanted to laugh so badly. It was all so insanely ridiculous. He was in love with Alex. And he let Taylor believe that had spent countless nights 'with' Alex. As his lover. Which, in a sense, wasn't even a lie! He loved him and he had spent the nights with him. Only, he hadn't known then that he was in love with Alex. Or had he? Had he known all along? Had he been in love from the very beginning? And had Taylor been right after all? Had he really considered Alex to be his, for all that time? “Would you believe me when I tell you I have a headache?”

Alex frowned. “Why wouldn't I believe that, Miles? What's going on?”

“I'm finding it difficult to believe my own words, lately.” He turned his head to find Alex standing next to him, a concerned look on his face. “I find myself saying one thing and then end up doing the other. I tell you I want to be your friend and then I kiss you. I ask you for honesty and I find myself unable to respond with the same. I tell we can't kiss again and then…I do this.” He cupped Alex's face, cigarette still tugged between his fingers, and kissed him.

But it wasn't fast, or hard, or anything their kisses usually were. It was slow, and gentle, and his heart broke splinter by splinter with each languid stroke of his tongue. He felt Alex's hands and arms as they made their way around his torso, bringing them closer. What a dangerous kiss this was, not lacking of lust yet fed with feelings. It was a kiss of love, and his friend allowed it to happen, allowed him to have it. Miles felt horrible. After a last lingering moment, he let go and stepped back. “I'm not ready to be around you again.”

Alex leaned against the window, hazy and dark-eyed. Completely out of it. “What?”

“Don't you see, Al? I can't control it yet. It's exactly as you said, impossible not to kiss.”

“Let's work on that together, then!”

“How's that going to work? We sit in a room and applaud ourselves for every minute we spent not making out?” He sad, self-deprecating chuckle slipped from his lips.

“I just got you back in my life. I won't let you walk out of it, just because it's complicated and hard and requires effort!”

“You want a reason to let me go? Let me give you one. I told Taylor we fucked on the regular.”

A few seconds ticked down. And then? Then Alex combusted in laughter. Loud, rumbling, tears-streaming-from-the-eyes laughter. “That's what that was all about?” More laughter. “Oh that explains so much!” More laughter still.

Miles jaw all but dropped. “Why is it so funny? I don't get it.”

Alex shrugged. “I have no idea!” He wiped the tears from his eyes, still amused. “I just find it hilarious that the two of you made such a big fucking thing out of it, but she wouldn't even come to about it!”

“Well,” added Miles, “she also said I was in love with you.”

“You're not,” said Alex. The amusement died down. “Trust me, I know that.”

Miles didn't respond to that statement. How could Alex be so firm in his belief of it, wondered Miles, considering the kiss they had just shared. And what a testament to Alex's own lack of romantic notions towards him, thought Miles further. He had, after all, returned the kiss as tenderly as Miles had given it. To do that, without love? How different two people could be, he marveled.

“I meant what I said, Al.” Miles turned towards him.

“So did I,” said Alex. Sternly. “You and I are friends. And we'll remain friends. Damn all this attraction nonsense. Let's take smaller steps then. Let's not get drunk together. That seems to lead to no good. God, Miles! We won't even see that much of each other at any rate! I'm stuck on tour with the Monkeys and you have all your gigs across the bloody ocean! You want separation? There you have it! For crying out loud,” he groaned in frustration, “let's do a fucking long-distance phone friendship until I'm back home!”

“I can't perform with you in Mexico.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Come on, Miles! It's not even a Puppets song! It's fucking 505! We always do that together when we're in the same city! Huddle near Matt, Nick or Jamie if you need to!”

“It's not about that, Al.”

“It's been months, Miles. And it'll be our last chance to share a stage for a very long time!”

“Alex, I can't.” The last time they shared a stage together, it left him on the brink of a breakdown. The time before that, it had been odd already. And at that time, they hadn't even done the deed! He wasn't ready to find out how it would feel now. What if the spark was gone? What if there was nothing but awkwardness? Or worse, unease? “Someday, but not yet.”

“I can't force you, can I?” Alex was, without a doubt, disappointed. And he looked as exhausted and as done with it all as Miles felt. “Seriously, Miles. This has to be the worst birthday of yours we've ever celebrated!” He returned to the sofa and leaned back. “We gotta do better next year!”

“We will,” promised Miles and leaned back against the window, hands in his pockets. He spotted the clock on the wall and yawned. “Almost five am already. Time to sleep. It's been a long day.”

Alex shook his head disbelievingly and got up. “Smooth, Kane. Real smooth!” He picked up his jacket from the floor, put it on and tipped his head at Miles. “Keep the belt and the shirt. I'll collect it in London once we're back.” In the doorway, he haltered one last time. “Will I at least see you in Mexico?”

Miles nodded.

Alex nodded, too. And then he was gone.

[ittookthelightforever]

Tell Me Why - Chapter 11 (Smut)

Hi!

This is another fluffy chapter, with a hint of drama, but the addition of smut. I don’t think this is my best smut, I’ve been uninspired lately and blame the lack of new pictures of the Boy. Thankfully we know he’s living his best life, going to amazing concerts and all that jazz... Ok, back to the fic, I hope y’all like it!

Love, Lina

(chapter 1) – (chapter 2 - smut)  – (chapter 3 - TW) – (chapter 4) – (chapter 5) – (chapter 6) – (chapter 7) – (chapter 8) – (chapter 9 - TW) -- (chapter 10)

Source

Charlotte and Alex snuggled in bed, delaying the act of waking up proper and heading downstairs for breakfast. She turns on her side, facing Alex,  “I do ‘ave summat unpleasant to ask.�� He tightens his hold of her hand and nods, “Wot ‘appened between yeh and Louise? A-After tha’ night…” Alex grimaces a bit, remembering the aftermath of his stupidness, “Ugh, a-after tha’s, uh, incident, she and I talked and I explained tha’ the babeh came before I’d even met ‘er. She seemed satisfied enough tha’ i woulnd’t leave ‘er for yeh and weh stayed together, she came wiv us all the way back to LA.” Alex has to take a few breaths to maintain a straight voice, “Uh, LA were ‘ard, because it were meh first time there after I broke up wiv Taylor. But tha’s when Matt sat down wiv meh and talked sum sense into meh.”

Charlie laughed, she could picture the conversation perfectly, Matt was incredible at being a no nonsense friend. “ ‘e made meh realise tha’ at tha’ point I probableh weren’t wiv Louise for tha’ reight reasons, tha’ I couldn’t possibleh be takin’ meh relationship wiv ‘er seriously when I were mopin’ around for yeh. And when weh came back to Europe I broke up wiv ‘er.” Charlie can’t help but smile, “Blessed be Matthew J. ‘elders, the third.” Alex kisses her, pulling away slowly. Charlie holds his face close to hers, squeezing his cheeks, “Moping, babeh? Were you annoying our friends?”

She pecks his lips between the words, enjoying the feeling of his chapped lips against her, the familiarity of them, “Yeh laugh, but those bastards made it a rule tha’ I couldn’t say yehr name more than once per ‘our or I’d ‘ave to call yeh and apologize.” Charlie stops playing, her face growing serious, “Did yeh? Say it more than once…” Alex takes her hand, kissing her palm tenderly, “Yeah, I did. But every time I did I ‘id meself like the coward I am. I once even threw me phone against a wall, just so I wouldn’t ‘ave a way to call yeh.” She nuzzles her nose against him, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss, “No, yeh’re not. Otherwise weh wouldn’t be ‘ere today.” She kisses him again.

“Kids!! Yeh better not beh doin’ anyfing inappropriate!” They pull away, laughing at Penny’s teasing tone. Slowly they untangle themselves and try to get ready, the process itself is stopped multiple times to make way for tender kisses and belly rubs. Once they are ready, Alex takes her hand and pulls her in for one more kiss, Charlie can’t help but sigh as his lips part and their tongues join, something clicks within her. Pulling away, she laughs, “C’mon, otherwise Penny will come up to check if weh’re shagging.” Alex nods, pecking her lips one last time, before following her out of the room.

Charlotte goes down the steps laughing at some nonsense Alex said, but as she entered the kitchen Charlie stops and Alex’s bumps into her, “Wot’s wrong, love?” As he looks beyond her Alex sees Charlotte’s parents and Emily sitting on the kitchen table with his parents, “Mum, dad! Yeh are ‘ere!” Maggie and Pete get up and embrace their youngest daughter, Charlie is a little flustered but she manages to respond to her mother’s cooings about the baby. Alex stands back, giving them space, fully aware he was enemy number one in this situation, and Emily remains seated, looking quite fed up with the situation.

“I ‘ave made us all tea, so why don’t weh move this to the living room, where weh can sit more comfortableh?” Maggie helps Penny bring the things over to the adjacent room, where Charlie takes a seat on the couch next to her parents and Alex sits in front of her on a loveseat. He makes a funny face at the whole thing and Charlie has to hide her giggles, as she feels Emily’s hard gaze on her. “It sure is good to see yeh kids in good terms once again!” Charlie turns to her mother with a grateful smile, “I’m sad tha’ it took Nanna’s passing for us to start working through our issues, but ’m glad weh did.”

“Of course weh are ‘appy for yeh, but it’s also important to keep in mind tha’ yeh are ‘aving a child together.” Penny and Maggie take the reins of the conversation, “Yes, these incidents can’t ‘appen. Ever again. Weh know yeh kids ‘ave crazy lives sumtimes, but a babeh needs lots of love and a solid famileh structure.” Alex is hesitant but he chimes in for the first time, “I know I’ve been wrong… I see meh mistakes and I promise yeh that wot ‘appened shall never ‘appen again, I will always be there for the babeh and Charleh.” He directs his words not only to Charlie but to their parents present.

“We’ve watched yeh grow into a fine hard-working man, Alexander. And I am sure yeh will never repeat such behaviours, son.” Her father’s approval puts him at somewhat of an ease, but that doesn’t last long, “No offense Mr and Mrs Turner, but tha’s all it takes? A pretteh little speech and all the pain ‘e brought to my sister is forgotten?” Emily stands up and gestures at Alex, “This is the man tha’ put yeh in bed for a whole week. For a whole week yeh wouldn’t speak or eat, yeh put not onleh yehr life in danger but tha’ of yehr babeh, and yeh just forgive ‘im like tha’?”

“Emily, stop. ‘ow maneh times? Alex is not Michael! Not only ‘as ‘e never laid a finger on meh,all meh life, Alex is the best ‘uman being I’ve ever met. ‘e’s cared for meh more times than I can’t count and tha’ night, wot ‘appened, tha’ is between meh and ‘im. And weh are choosing to work through it, because weh love each other and weh are ‘aving a kid together.” Charlie pauses to take a breath, a hand pressed to her bump. “Iif yeh can’t see past yehr own problems, goodness I can’t deal wiv yeh reight now. I love yeh, but I can’t stand yeh talking about Alex like ‘e’s a monster all of a sudden.” Emily wipes her tears, taking one last look at Alex and then Charlie before storming out.

Charlie takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but the inevitable tears come. She is so overcome with sobs she doesn’t notice as her mother trading places with Alex, who wraps his arms around her and starts whispering soothing words to her ear. They stay there for several minutes and he helps her calm down, as their parents watch the sweet interaction and are reassured that Alex’s and Charlie’s decision to stay together was the right one.

--//--//--

Soon Charlie and Alex board a train bound to London, where their lives couldn’t wait for them any longer. For the whole ride Charlie stays wrapped in Alex’s arms, the couple whispering sweet nothings to each other, relishing in this honeymoon phase of their relationship. Exhausted from the train ride they simply swing by Charlie’s for clean non-black clothes and order some take out to Alex’s, indulging in pizza and pop on his bed, which had been cleaned thanks to Miles’ wiseness to call a professional cleaning company to deal with the mess and make the apartment liveable again.

They lay in bed, bodies tangled up, bellies full, whispering to each other in their new found bliss, “I don’t want to tell people yet. I want this to be ours.” Alex nods, nipping at the soft skin of her neck and earning a low moan from Charlie, “Tha’ sounds perfect.” Charlie turns in his arms, facing him, and kisses him, pulling him against her. His hand brushes her upper thigh and Charlie moans, pressing herself as close to him as possible with the baby bump between them. She pulls away from his lips, kissing and sucking down his jaw and neck, which causes Alex to let out a low growl that soaks her underwear.

“Did I mention yeh’ve been moaning meh name in yehr sleep these past nights?” Charlotte pulls away to look him in the eye, “No, I ‘aven’t!” Alex chuckles, running his fingers slowly up her thigh which makes her automatically moan again. He grins, as if to say I told yeh so. The sexual tension had been building since Sheffield and now it was clear they both needed some relief. “Alex, stop teasing meh about it then and do summat about it.” He takes the queue, bowing over her and capturing her lips in a sweet, tame kiss that Alex maintains as much control over as he can before Charlie grips his shoulders and deepens the kiss.

As one of her hands moves up to grip his face, the other trails down his back, feeling each ripple of his muscles, until it reaches his bum and gives him a playful squeeze, “C’monnnn rockstar, gimme yehr best.” Alex chuckles at the nickname and moves his lips down, kissing down her neck and over her collarbones, praises to her beauty echo against her skin. He reaches her nightgown and helps her sit up so she can remove that, taking the moment to remove his own t-shirt, and Charlotte is left completely naked in front of him. Utterly breathtaking, Alex stops for a second to regard her.

“Wot? Do I ‘ave anyfing on meh face?” She gives him a playful half-smile and Alex sighs in contentment, “Yeh are the most beautiful woman I ‘ave ever laid my eyes on. So… Stunning.” Charlie blushes, but doesn’t attempt to hide any of herself, “And this, your magnificent body tha’ is creating our child.” Alex is once again over her, pressing his lips to her skin, adoring every inch of her body, and as he reaches her bump Alex stops, kissing the skin gently. “I love ‘ow sweet this is, but I need yeh lower reight now, love.” He chuckles at her anxiety and moves lower as requested.

Alex parts her thighs and looks up to Charlie, who’s watching anxiously, “Patience, babeh… It’s a virtue, tha’ knows.” She rolls her eyes and moves a hand over her abdomen, reaching her soaking core, “I seem to ‘ave lost mine.”  Charlie moans as she toys with her clit and Alex is mesmerized, almost paralized by the sight, “Excuse meh, I fink tha’s my job.” With a gentle hand he pushes her hand away, taking over with his own fingers. He gently swirls around her clit, bringing his finger down and over her folds, teasingly, making Charlie moan and grip the sheets.

“Hmmm, so wet for meh, babeh. I wonder wot would ‘appen if I did this?” Alex pushes a finger into her, caressing her walls with the rough pad of his finger and Charlie curls her toes, raising her hips towards his touch, moaning for more. He adds a second finger, curling them against her pleasure point, “Tha’s meh girl, yeh look so beautiful, writhing under meh touch.” Charlie moans and moves her hips against his touch, hands massaging her own breasts roughly, “M-More, p-pl-please.” Alex picks up the speed and bends down to press his lips to her clit, letting his tongue move over it in hard strokes. Charlie feels her orgasm build up and up, focusing on Alex’s tongue on her clit, so dextrous with its movements, and his talented fingers curling and stretching her walls, until her core is nearly bursting and she grips at the sheets, nearling howling in pleasure as she reaches her apex.

“Yeh taste absolutelleh delicious… Tha’ was realleh summat.” Charlie is catching her breath, a sheen of sweat covers her body as she comes down from her high, “Are yeh okay, love?” Alex lays down next to her, tracing the pattern of her body, rough finger pad over sensitive skin, “Yeah, hmmm, if yeh continue tha’ I might cum again.” He chuckles, making a point of circling her nipple, “I’d love nowt more, but I feel tha’ we’ve a logistics issue.” Charlie takes his hand, intertwining their fingers, “Yeh afraid of the bump.” He chuckled nervously, “Kind of, yeah.”

Charlie smiles and sits up, straddling him, “Here’s a verreh easeh fix for tha’.” She wiggles her soaking core over his hips, which were still clad in underwear, moaning as the movement produced the perfect friction between her pulsing pussy and his hard cock. Alex moans, moving in tandem with her, “Meh clever girl.” She winks at him raising her hips just enough for him to remove his underwear and position himself against her entrance, Charlie takes him in her hand and sinks down onto his dick, throwing her head back at the perfect sensation of his hard cock filling her up, every ridge stroking her over-sensitive core.

She grabs his shoulders to get purchase, while Alex holds onto her hips, and they move in synchrony. Alex is mesmerized by the sight of Charlotte - head hung back, eyes closed, lips slightly parted as moans come out; He drives his hips up to meet each of her movements, his cock burrying deep into her core with every stroke, “B-Babeh, yeh feel like ‘eaven… Yeh’re so wet for meh…” Charlie’s movements soon become slower as she builds up for her second orgasm, Alex holds her face making her look at him, “Let go for meh, babeh… I want to feel yeh cum all over meh.” As she stares into those golden chocolate eyes, Charlie lets go and moans as waves of pleasure wash over her, her walls clenching around Alex’s dick which set his own orgasm off.

Charlie uses the last of her energy to pull back from Alex and lay down on the bed, “G-Goodness, tha’ was…” She sighs trying to catch her breath as he inches closer to her, pulling her against his sweaty body, “Tha’ was literally the sexiest fing I’ve ever experienced.” She smiles and cuddles against his body, curling up to fit within his frame, “Hmmm, even sexier than Miles?” Alex laughs, kissing the top of her head, “Miles’ got nowt on yeh babeh, yeh… Yeh are the missing piece tha’ I never realized had been missing but now I can’t ever live wivout again.” Charlie looks up at him, reaching up to press a chaste kiss to his lips, “Ever the poet, huh Turner? I love yeh.” Alex smiles and tightens his grip of her, “I love yeh endlessly, meh Charleh.

--//--//--

Despite her tiredness, Charlie couldn’t sleep due to pregnancy induced insomnia, so she had settled on Alex’s couch with a pint of Cherry Garcia, watching a french romance from Alex’s collection. “ ‘ey, what yeh doin’ up?” Alex plops down next to her on the couch and Charlie pauses, “Can’t sleep. Why is it tha’ yeh don’t ‘ave aneh cable or internet on yehr tv? Onleh a collection of foreign movehs and Batman.” Alex shrugs, taking her spoon, “Eh, don’t realleh need anyfing else. Can I ‘ave some?” Charlie pushes the ice cream towards him, “Course, it’s yehrs, genius.”

Alex squints his eyes at her, eating a big spoonful of ice cream, “Yeh know what I meant. ‘ave yeh been eating enough?” Charlie avoids his gaze, taking the spoon, “Well, now I ‘ave an obligation to eat and since the morning sickness went away fings got a whole lot better.” She takes another mouthful of ice cream, handing the spoon back to Alex, “I ‘ate that yeh went through that whole phase by yehrself.”

“Alex, it’s not yehr fault and I ‘ad the support I needed then, now yeh know and can participate in every step of the way, okay? Just make sure to be a cool dad.” Alex laughs, giving her the spoon back, “Oh, check this out, whenever I eat cold stuff, baby moves like crazeh.” Charlie takes his hand, positioning over her belly and takes another bit of ice cream. Alex’s smile widens and moves his hand along Charlie’s belly, “Tha’s incredible, there realleh is a tineh person in there. Do yeh know the gender yet?”

Charlie shakes her head, “No, but me midwife wrote it in and put it in an envelope.I were waitin’ for yeh to look, it’s actualleh in my purse upstairs.” Alex face can’t contain his giddiness, “Can weh go look?” Charlie chuckles at his childish expression, which reminded her so much of when they were kids, in that moment she hoped that their child would inherit his enthusiasm, “Of course.” They tread upstairs, leaving the TV on and the ice cream to melt, in her room Charlie looks through her stuff for the envelope, finding it jammed between the pages of the book she’d been reading.

“ ‘ere it is.” She holds the thin paper envelope between them, “Let’s get it over wiv.” Alex motions for her to open, but she pauses and sits down, patting the bed for Alex to join her, “This… This babeh is a big step, for both of us. In our relationship, in our lives. Promise meh whatever ‘appens this tiny ‘uman being will come first?” Alex cups her face with his hands, centering her gaze on his eyes, “Charleh, I ‘ope tha’ there’s nofing tha’ could ‘appen tha’ could push us apart again, yeh are one of the moost important people in meh life and tha’ will never change. And I promise yeh, there won’t be a day in meh life when tha’ kid yehr carrying won’t be meh number one prioriteh, okeh?”

Charlotte sighs, a rogue tear slipping down her face, “Yes… Okeh, let’s see if babeh is a girl or a boy!” Alex smiles and presses a kiss to her forehead, “Do the honours then…” Charlie’s hands are shaking slightly as she pries the envelope open and pulls the paper from within, she reads the words, once, twice, gasping in surprise, “Wot? Wot is it?” She giggles through her tears, “It’s a boy.” Alex beams and hugs her, squishing her against him. Charlie closes her eyes and she can picture it perfectly. A little boy, the spitting image of his dad, playing piano next to Alex, the both of them causing a raucous around the house. Her heart swells with the thought of little boy that will be half of her and half of the man she loves.

“Wow, Charleh, I-I… A little fella…” Alex chokes on his words, tears slipping down his face as well, “I know, I understand love. I joost ‘ope ‘e inherits yehr ridiculously amazing ‘air and not tha’ giant nose.” Charlie wipes his tears as Alex snorts at her words, “If ‘e’s ‘alf as incredible as ‘is mum everfing will be fine.” Charlie averts her gaze at his words, laying down on the bed, “Yeh should probably go to sleep, Al..” He yawns, causing her to yawn back, “Weh bof should.” He lays down next to her, staring at the ceiling.

Alex holds Charlie’s hand as they stare up at the ceiling, both knocked down by the lovely news, “I love yeh, Charleh. More than I ‘ave ever loved anyoneh.” Charlie smiles and turns on her side to face him, “Marreh meh, Turner.” Alex turns in a second, nearly bumping into Charlie, “Wot?” She smiles, bringing a hand up to his face, “I love yeh. Marreh meh.” Alex regards her for a second, trying to gauge whether she was serious, before a huge smile spreads on his face, “Ei, I should beh asking yeh tha’.” Charlie giggles, tangling her legs with his.

“If yeh want to weh can tell people yeh were tha’ one who asked. It don’t matter! Alexander David Turner, will yeh marreh meh?”  

[abs0lutely-fantastic]

Halloween (Part 2)

Here comes part two of Halloween! This time with some input on the monkeys’ and Miles’ costumes from Rodaina. I swear I can’t write completely solo, haha. Also, the “story” that Alex tells, I heard on a podcast this morning. Enjoy! x

-

You stepped out of the shower, wiping the steam from the mirror to look at yourself once you’d rubbed your hair best you could, brushing it carefully, the coconut scent from your shampoo filling your nose. You let your hand wander over the small purple mark on your neck, relieved that your costume would cover most of your body anyway as you knew otherwise you would never hear the end of it with Miles and the other monkeys teasing you.

Having not being able to keep your hands off each other when you’d come home earlier, you’d simply locked him out of the bathroom in order to shower by yourself because you knew you would never appear at the party otherwise.

Wrapping a towel around your body, you stepped out of the bathroom, shivering a little at the change of temperature. “Your turn” you said, walking into the bedroom where Alex was in fact waiting for his turn, just wearing his underwear while reading something on his phone.

He put it to the side, smirking when he looked up at you. “Sure yeh don’t want teh join meh?” he asked as he got up.

You laughed. “As tempting as that sounds, we only have like an hour or two to get ready” you said and he sighed.

“I know, I know…” he said. “Tonight though.”

“Yes, tonight” you laughed.

He wiggled his eyebrows, giving you a pointed look before his eyes flickered over to the bag with the burlesque costume.

“We’ll see about that” you said, remembering your plan to first find out what you were actually doing before putting that on for him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he walked past you and smiled before disappearing into the bathroom.

You sat down on the bed and checked your phone real quick before taking off the towel and changing into a thong and a very tight bra to avoid lines once you put on the skintight costume. You turned on the light as it had already gotten dark and grabbed your make up bag to begin and do your make up, glad you really only had to pay attention to eyes and lips mostly, thanks to the mask.

You went for a smokey eye, laced with some gold and red to then match it with red lipstick, making sure it all stayed on with some setting spray and eyed yourself in the mirror for some final touches.

“What a sight.”

You blushed, turning around with a grin to see Alex coming out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his hair still wet, messy tangles sticking up in some places.

“Yeh look phenomenal” he said, taking off the towel and walking over to the closet to put on some fresh underwear.

“That’s quite a sight too” you teased, hugging him from the back when he’d pulled up his underwear, resting your cheek against his back, closing your eyes.

He rubbed your arms gently before covering your hands with his and relaxing. Without looking, you knew he’d closed his eyes from the way he hummed softly and stroked your fingers with his absently. “I love yeh.” he said quietly and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You smiled, breathing in the scent of his warm skin. “I love you too, Alex” you said, pressing a soft kiss to his back before drawing away and stepping back. “And there will definitely be cuddles later, hmm?”

He nodded. “Definitleh” he chuckled. “How much time have we got left?”

“Well, we’re already officially late” you said, checking your phone. “But that’s just us being the fashionable people that we are. Miles won’t mind.” You took your Catwoman suit out of the bag and handed him the large box with the Batman costume, sitting down on the bed and beginning to slowly pull the tight material over your legs, looking up at Alex every now and then to see you were clearly struggling a lot more.

“Can I help yeh?” he teased once he’d put the suit on and secured the belt.

“I’ll manage” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’m a superheroine myself. Don’t need Batman to save me.”

He smirked. “Ah, but yeh wouldn’t mind, would yeh?” he asked, posing as if he was flexing ‘his’ bicep.

“Mmmm, depends” you said, winking at him before finally standing up and wiggling your butt into the suit before finally being able to pull it up and slide your arms inside, zipping up the front to not reveal too much cleavage but also not zipping it all the way up to your neck. “All done.”

"Maybe we won’t be tha’ late” he said as he put on the boots and mask.

You grinned, shamelessly checking him out as you quickly made sure you had everything you needed in your bag. “You look so sexy” you said with a smirk.

“And tha’ means somethin’, comin’ from yeh” he said, biting his lip. “Can yeh take me stuff in your bag?”

You nodded. “Of course” you said, gesturing for him to put it in before stepping in front of the mirror to adjust your mask, hearing him call a cab.

“Readeh?”

“Yup, ready.”

-

As you arrived, you could already hear the music blasting through the doors. You looked around curiously as Alex led you inside, instantly shaking some hands and greeting people. Even though you’d been dating for a few months already, you still sometimes were a little overwhelmed by the amount of well-known people that often attended the parties Alex got invited to. Of course you knew some of them by now but it was still always a little intimidating and you sometimes wondered if you even belonged there.

Alex snapped you out of your dark thoughts when Alex stopped and hugged somebody before you heard him introduce you. “Oh, yeh, yeh, it’s loveleh to see yeh. Yeah, tha’s my girlfriend.”

You looked up at the woman standing in front of you, shaking her hand.

“And this is Lana” Alex said.

Your eyes widened. “O-Oh, I … I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you with that … awesome make-up” you said, shaking her hand.

She smiled, waving it off. “Nice to meet you. Miles and Alex have both told me a lot about you” she laughed. “And I love your costume.”

You smiled back at her happily. “Thank you. Yours is amazing too, especially the make-up” you told her, admiring the way it looked like she had small wounds leaking blood all over her face but at the same time had stunning glittery eye make up that was rather vintage looking.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later” she excused herself as she saw someone coming in through the door, approaching them.

“Let’s get something to drink” Alex said and you nodded, leading you over to the bar and ordering two beers, leaning against the bar as you waited.

“Have you seen Miles?” you asked him, hoping for some more familiar faces. “Or Matt?”

Alex shook his head. “Not yet” he said as he also looked around. “You know what costumes to look out for though.”

You nodded. “Yeah, they all ordered theirs while we were still in Sheffield” you laughed, remembering the others showing you what costumes they’d ordered a few days prior. You wrapped your arms around him from the side, kissing his jaw. “You’re dancing with me later, right?”

“Promise, babeh” he smiled, turning his head to catch your lips in a soft kiss.

Your heart fluttered and your lips melted together with his as you cupped his face into your hands and pulled him closer.

“Ayeee!” you heard a voice coming close, a hand coming down on your shoulder.

Alex giggled against your lips and you slowly drew back. “Hey, Miles” he laughed as Miles moved to hug you.

“Quite a party, wolverine” you laughed and gently rubbed his back before stepping to the side, smiling as they hugged. “You look great.”

He smirked when he pulled away from Alex. “Thanks, love” he said with a grin, running his fingers through his hair with the wolverine claws. “So do yeh. Both o’ yeh, look smashin’ together.”

“We almost had Alex go as Harley Quinn” you smirked, winking at Alex.

He rolled his eyes. “It were never an option” he laughed, handing you your beer as taking a sip of his own.

“Oh, come on! Miles thinks it’d be awesome too, right? You should’ve seen him in the hot pants. He put on a wig and everything!”

Miles laughed loudly, nudging Alex’s shoulder. “Aye, mate, how 'bout next year?” Miles teased.

You giggled at his enthusiasm and how he was always buzzing and radiating good energy, no matter if he’d had a drink or not. “Oh my god!” you called. “You could match too!”

Miles raised his eyebrows. “Wha- … don’t wanna be the bloodeh joker…” he said, shaking his head.

Alex grinned, playfully hitting Miles’ chest. “Tha’s what I said” he laughed, making Miles laugh again as well.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head too. “Guys, no one ever said anything about that dick. I was thinking Miles would be a killer Poison Ivy.”

Miles thought about it for a moment and you expected him to also pretend being surprised but he instead looked thoughtfully at Alex. “Mate, I fink we could pull tha’ off.”

Alex laughed. “Both of yeh are crazeh.”

“If you could only see the best you’ve made of me

I held it in but now it seems you’ve set it running free

Screaming in the dark, I howl when we’re apart

Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart..”

“Well, tha’ is me song tonight!” Miles called with a grin, holding his hand out to you. “Yeh gonna come dance with me, love?”

You glanced to Alex and he reached out to take your beer and your bag. “Be right back!” you said and kissed his cheek as he didn’t seem like he wanted to dance just yet. You took Miles’ hand and let him lead you over to the space where some people were already dancing before letting go to sway with you.

Singing along to the song and dancing with Miles, you were surprised to find that you could move quite well in your costume and despite not having drank much yet, you could relax and let go, feeling less and less like you for some reason didn’t belong, glad Miles’ energy was so contagious and that he could make you feel so welcome.

After two or three more songs, you were getting warm and quite thirsty. “I’ll go check up on my dark knigh” you called to Miles and he nodded, saluting you as to sign you off.

You laughed and left the dancefloor with a wave, carefully taking your mask off your head as you were beginning to sweat a little under it, heading back to the bar, spotting Alex with a zombie who you quickly recognized to be Nick. “I’m back” you grinned, quickly hugging Nick.

“Have yeh guys taken a photo together yet?” he asked as Alex handed you back your beer and you finished the bottle in one go, your throat feeling dry from all the laughing and shouting over the music while dancing with Miles.

“No!” you realised. “Can you take one?”

“Sure” Nick said and took your phone when you handed it to him before shuffling over to stand next to Alex, putting the bottle away and repositioning your mask on your face. “Say Halloween!”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around Alex and smiling to the camera while Alex posed in a superhero pose with one hand on his hip, looking dramatically into the distance with his chin up. You leaned up to kiss his jaw before turning to order another beer, then taking back your phone. “Thank you. Let’s all take one together too!” you said and they both got behind you to take a selfie.

“Where are ya postin’ them?” Alex asked.

You shrugged. “Nowhere, just for me. Why? You want me to post something? Have you resurface so your fans can know what you’re wearing?” you smirked.

“Resurface?” he asked with a chuckle.

You nodded. “Yeah, you and your life under a rock, no one knows what you look like these days, unless your friends post something!”

He rolled his eyes jokingly at your dramatic explanation.

You wiggled your eyebrows questioningly at him, nudging him.

“Alreyt” he laughed, giving in with a shrug.

You took your beer and took a sip before posting the selfie of you three on instagram. “So, where are Matt and Jamie?” you asked.

“Dancefloor, bareleh saw 'em” Alex said, nodding to the dancing crowd where you could spot Lana and Miles dancing together now.

“What about those two?” you asked with a smirk. “Is there something going on?"  

Alex grinned, shrugging. "They both deny it so far” he laughed.

You put your phone away. “Are you gonna come dance with me now?” you asked Alex with a smirk. “You promised after all.”

He laughed, finishing the rest of his beer. “Let’s go” he said and grabbed your hand but just as you were about to head to the dancefloor, you were stopped by Jamie and Matt.

“Wouldn’t have recognized you if you hadn’t shown me before” you said as you hugged Matt, glancing up at his big Slash wig and sunglasses before moving over to hug Jamie who was wearing a full Viking costume. “You guys really go all in with costumes” you laughed. While only ever having seen their photos online, you now witnessed their love for Halloween first-hand.

“Should weh do shots?” Matt asked.

You looked at Alex who shrugged. “Alright, one round. Then I’m taking my superhero here dancing” you said and waited for Matt to order. “Should I take a photo of all four of you?” you asked.

They all turned to you before posing together in a line.

“It can be the album cover” you said with a wink before taking out your phone and snapping a photo. You’d noticed that Alex barely ever took photos, no matter if it was with you or with the bands but you had always loved taking a lot of photos, not to necessarily post them but to capture the moment and the memory.

“Here you go” the bartender said and Matt took the tray, passing the shots around. “Cheers!” he called, lifting his glass.

“Cheers!”

You downed your shot in one go, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before putting down the glass, looking up at Alex, wiggling your fingers for him to take your hand. He laughed and grabbed it. “Later” he said to the others before letting you lead him over to the dancefloor.

As it had gotten later, the music had gotten louder and more people had started to gather on the dancefloor. The moment you became part of the dancing crowd, you felt the bass begin to control your heart beat and didn’t need long to encourage Alex to dance with you and let loose a little as well.

You didn’t know how much time passed but as more and more people came to dance around you, you moved closer and closer to Alex, eventually him and the music being the only thing you could focus on, surrounded by fog and dancing lights. As it was getting hotter, both your masks were long off but nonetheless, you kept your body pressed up against his, his hands placed on your hips as he swayed with you. Every now and then, you could make out more familiar faces into the fog, exchanging a few words with Jamie and Miles before Alex was once again the only thing that had your full attention.

Despite having drunk so little, you hadn’t eaten anything so you did feel a little light-headed as you weren’t really someone known for being able to handle a lot of alcohol. “Should I get us some more to drink?” you called over the music, close to his ear.

“Beer for me” he said and you could only tell from the movement of his lips. “Thanks, babeh.” He kissed your cheek and you made your way out of the crowd, feeling a little tipsy.

You ordered a coke for yourself and a beer for Alex, waiting when you saw Miles and Lana sitting next to you. “There yeh are!” Miles called, his arm swinging around your shoulder to pull you in and it was clear that he was more than a little light-headed.

“There I am” you laughed. “Sure you should be doing more shots?” you teased.

“Mmm, one more, one more!” he called, lifting two, one for himself and one for you.

“Wooops, careful” you said, taking the glass from him just in time before he could spill it over you. “Cheers” you laughed when he let your glasses meet clumsily.

“Cheers” he grinned and you both downed your shots at the same time.

You smiled and put down the glass, taking your two bottles. “You look after this wobbly wolf” you said jokingly to Lana, messing up Miles hair and he pouted.

Lana laughed. “I will, don’t worry” she said before you headed back to the dancefloor, only finding Alex because Matt’s Slash wig and Jamie’s viking hat stuck out over the crowd and Alex was with them, chatting and laughing about something.

“Hey, you’ve already got something!” you laughed when you saw them also taking more shots, careful not to bump against anyone in the dancing crowd.

“No beer though” Alex said, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in, kissing your neck.

You giggled, handing him the bottle before taking a sip from your coke. “Are you as hot as I am?” you asked, fanning yourself air with your hand.

Alex smirked. “No one’s as hot as yeh, babeh.”

You rolled your eyes though couldn’t help but smile at his words, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, leaning close to him. You could taste the strong liquor on his lips, humming softly.

He tightened his arm around you, kissing you back instantly and pulling you close and he was the only thing on your mind again, completely captivating all your senses. He stumbled towards you a little when someone bumped into him and you giggled against his lips, trying to hold him up. “Sorreh…” he mumbled, not disconnecting your lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends of it, making him moan softly into the kiss. You smiled, playfully biting down on his bottom lip, your mind not only cloudy from the liquor but also the way he was kissing you.

Suddenly, someone bumped against you and you stumbled into Alex, almost bumping heads with him but quickly being able to pull back. “Sorry!” you said. “Let’s get out of the crowd” you laughed, taking Alex’s bottle as you finished yours while leaving the dancefloor.

As you were walking, Alex was the one that now seemed a little wobbly on his feet and you put the bottles to the side. “Are you okay, baby?” you asked.

“Mmmm, yeah, I’m fine” he said though you could feel he was leaning on you quite a bit.

“I think you’re a little tipsy. Maybe let’s sit down for a bit.”

He looked at you with big eyes. “Where’d me beer go?”

“It’s right here” you giggled, guiding him to sit down.

He looked around for a moment. “Why did weh stop kissin’?” he asked.

You laughed. “How many shots did you do with the guys?”

He shrugged. “Dunno” he said, closing his eyes for a moment before his head sank against your chest.

“Do you want to go home, sleepyhead?” you giggled.

“Can we kiss there?” he mumbled quietly into your chest.

You ran your fingers gently through his hair. “We can kiss anywhere you like, baby. But you seem a little sleepy so I thought maybe you’d want to head home. It’s not too late yet. If you want to stay though, we can stay.”

“Mmmm, do you want to stay?” he asked.

“It’s all up to you.”

He nuzzled against your chest. “Let’s go home…”

You nodded. “Okay but you have to get up” you laughed, slowly trying to lift his head and helping him stand up, glad when he did although slightly wobbly. You waved to the others before leading him out to the door, the cold night air clearing your head and you could tell it woke Alex up a little too as he leaned on you less and looked around. You stepped to the street, looking around to stop a cab if one drove by.

It didn’t take long until one stopped in front of you and you led Alex over, opening the door and having him get inside before walking around the car and getting in on the other side. You told the driver the address, giggling when Alex’s head sank down on your shoulder again and you brushed your fingers through his hair.

“Batman have too much to drink?” the cab driver chuckled.

You smiled. “Batman’s mostly tired I think” you said, hearing Alex laugh quietly. “We just got back from England late last night.”

-

Once out of the costume, you felt more free than all of the times you’d ever taken your bra off after a long day combined. You quickly slipped into one of his shirts before removing your make up and climbing into bed next to him, surprised that he was even still awake. You cuddled close to him, running your fingers gently over his bare chest. “I thought you were sleepy” you said with a smile.

“Not that much anymore” he said quietly but kept his eyes shut so you stretched out your arm to turn off the light, taking a quick look at your phone.

“Look what Miles’ just sent me” you giggled, holding up your phone so he could see the picture of you two kissing on the dancefloor.

“What a bloodeh stalker” he said. “But it’s like tha’ comic moment.”

You laughed, putting your phone away and kissing his cheek before also closing your eyes.

“Aren’t yeh tired yet?” he asked.

“Not too much but you don’t have to stay up with me” you laughed.

“Should I tell yeh a spookeh storeh?” he mumbled, nuzzling into your neck.

You giggled. “You’re the sleepy one, I think I should tell you a story.”

“Well, maybe me storeh will make yeh tired.”

“If it’s spooky, I think I’ll be wide awake.”

“I’ll protect yeh.”

You smiled. “Okay, I’m listening” you said, kissing his hair before completely relaxing against him.

“So, I’ve actually heard this from somebodeh…” he started. “Like mate of a mate of a mate…”

You laughed quietly. “So, true story…”

“Mmmm, true storeh. So, this guy, let’s call him Brian … he lived with his girlfriend and one night, some really creepy happened…”

You cuddled closer to him, giggling when he softly kissed your neck. “What happened?” you asked quietly.

“So, she woke up at night, next to him and when she turned to check if he were alreyt … it looked like there was this shadoweh figure like … bent over him, almost like a dog, lyin’ on top of him and like … lickin’ his face … and she thought it was really scareh…”

“That can’t be real…”

“Oh, tha’s not the spookeh part … she told him the next mornin’, right … and he didn’t remember and he also thought tha’ couldn’t be real like she must’ve dreamt it up or summat. The strange fing is … they broke up soon after and like, he moved the furniture and everythin’ after she moved out and completeleh forgot about it…”

“Until?”

He chuckled breathily. “Until … he got a new girlfriend. And one mornin’, she woke up and told him she saw the exact same fing, the shadoweh figure bent over him. And she’d never heard the storeh and how it happened to the ex-girlfriend but she described the exact same thing…”

“I don’t know if I believe that…” you said, shivering a little at the thought, subconciously tightening your arms around him.

“Yeh never know. But no matter wha’, I’ll protect yeh” he said, kissing your neck again.

“I like that. Speaking of … maybe next year you could be a policeman, eh? Wouldn’t that be hot?”

He laughed. “Okay, sleeptime now” he giggled quietly and you felt his breath tickling your skin again, smiling from the way his soft laughter filled your ears. “Goodnight, babeh” he whispered and kissed your neck softly.

“Goodnight, darling.”

♥

[ssa-steverogers]

Memories   Avenger one-shot

Memories

Requested: Yes

Summary:  Alexandras Winchester joined the Avengers after her mother died during what was known as the New York Battle. She had never told anyone. Now, it’s been exactly seven years and she had never visited her mother, Lilly. Her father, Charles, and twin, Thomas, had died in a accident a long time ago. And after a long mission, she decides to visit her buried family.

“What do you want for dinner?” Pepper popped into the main room. 

“You can have dinner without me, I’m going out for a while.” I said reaching for my coat over the couch. Tony sat across from me on a recliner. He looked at his watch and frowned.

“Where you going out so late? It’s almost eight. Going to a pub? We got a whole bar that’s probably bigger than any of the pubs in town.” He said with that signature smirk of his. I gave him a look and so did Pepper.

“Where are you heading?” Loki asked the same time as Thor. They looked at me and I just stared back at them. They looked at me for a answer. I blinked a couple times and got up.

“Out.” I said smiling and putting on my coat.

“Where? You got yourself a boy?” Wanda asked with wide eyes. She’s been trying to set me up with people lately. I got ready and when I was about to walk to the elevator, I was stopped by a big boulder; well, a Loki Laufeyson. He looked suspicious as he asked me questions. 

 "Where. Are. You. Going.” He asked in more of a statement than a question. I sighed. 

 “Why? Who wants to know?” I smirked. I crossed my arms and leaned on one foot. 

 “Who? Me, Thor, Steve, Tony, Wanda, even Bruce! And you never leave this facility unless it’s for missions or the girls drag you out! You go out like every blue moon. You always stay in the lab!” He said with arms motions. 

 “Well, today, there happens to have a blue moon… So I will be on my way.” I said slipping around Loki and into the elevator. He held his hand up about to say something but the elevator doors closed and silenced him. I put on my beanie and the elevator door opened. I took a deep breath and walked out. I left a note saying I was gonna borrow Tony’s black matte Audi R8. It was new, actually. Which is why I didn’t tell him face to face. He installed J.A.R.V.I.S into the car and made it that it could drive by itself when needed. I got into the car and quickly drove out of the basement. I was driving to a cemetery where my mom, dad, and twin is buried.

“Where do you think she’s going?” That was almost the only question asked after everyone had found the note Alex had left.

“How are we supposed to know?” Now that, was a answer everyone gave. They were all in the basement, where all the cars and Tonys lab is. Thor was nearly dying because he was so bored. He dragged Vision back up to the main floor and tried to work, what he referred as ‘midgardian toys.’ Which were basically technology. 

“Hey J? Could you track Echo?” Tony asked J.A.R.V.I.S. Natasha raised a eyebrow at him as he stopped half way from eating a Pringle. He retracted his chip and gave her a weird look. After a couple of moments of blinking he understood why she was looking at him odd. His mouth formed a ‘O’ shape. “What? I name my cars.” He said casually as he continued with his Pringles. Nat just mentally face palmed silently. 

“It shows Echo is driving at a incredible speed and is headed a bit north.” J.A.R.V.I.S said in a monotone voice and projected a holo-screen and there was a black dot that stood out from the satellite behind it showing roads. In the corner of the black dot, there was a box that showed info about Echo.

Speed: Average. 185 MPH  Name: Echo Brand: Audi Type: R8 V10 plus Year: 2017

“Won’t she get a ticket or something?” Asked Clint as they gathered around the holo-screen. 

“Nah. She took MY car, darling. If the license plate has ‘Stark’ in it; she’ll be fine.” Tony said going through drawers trying to find keys for his other cars. Steve was basically frightened by her speed. His eyes wide open.

“She’s going 185 miles per hour and you’re caring about if she gets a ticket?!?! What if she gets in a crash or something?!?!” Steve yelled, if he went any louder, he would have broke everyones ear drums… even in china. 

“Yeah! What if she gets hurt? Or if she hurts someone else?!?” Loki yelled after Steve, grabbing peoples attention. Everyone went silent, realizing Steve and Loki didn’t know about Alex’s history.

“You really don’t know, don’t you?” Silence.

“Don’t know what?” Loki asked, his main concern at the moment is Alex’s safety; so was Steve’s. 

“About what she did before she was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent?” Nat asked, emphasizing on ‘before.’ The two boys were almost clueless. They shook their heads carefully. Bruce sighed and explained what had happened in Alex’s life.

“As a teen, she wasn’t always the… straight A’s type. She had always been the ‘badass’ in school.” Bruce explained, choosing his words carefully as he continued. “She… made some choices… Not very good choices, really. She had quit school when she was in high school. She… had raced. Had bet money, which is illegal. Her file wasn’t always clear, you know?” He said as he pulled up a file of Alex, which was clean. “This is her file now.” He said pointing to her file. 

“This used to be her file.” He said pulling up another file on another screen. It informed that she had been in prison quite often. It was probably like her second home. “It was only after the battle of New York when she had became a new person. And when she became a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. She improved so much; a new person she was. She forgot all about that life. So she became one of the top agents here.”   

 “And you don’t get to be one of the top agents without a couple scars and bruises.” 

 “It appears Alex and Echo has slowed down and come to a stop.” Everyone’s attention had returned to the other hologram which had Echo and Alex’s location. It had appeared that the black dot had stopped moving. 

 “Why is she at a cemetery?” Nat wondered out loud. 

 “I don’t know, but we gotta go there to see if she’s okay, preferably NOW.” 

 I had reached the cemetery within about twenty minutes. If I had driven at the speed of a turtle, I’d get there in a hour and a half. I got out of the car and stood in front of the gates, watching the gates as if they were going to come to life. I took a deep breath and slipped through the locked gates. 

 I walked around the cemetery looking at headstones. I remember exactly where my family was. The center. I walked along the path with my hand in the pockets of my hoodie, the other hand with roses. Staring at the ground in front of me, I came to a stop. I carefully looked to the headstones in front of me. I took a shaky breath and looked at the words engraved in them.

R.I.P Lilly Winchester June 11, 1945 - May 4, 2012 Here lies a beloved  Mother      Leader            Friend                  Wife                       Sister  R.I.P Thomas ‘Tommy’ Winchester December 28, 1991 - December 27, 2003 "I hate to leave you all one day, but I promise you, we’ll meet again someday.” 

R.I.P Charles Winchester June 26, 1944 - December 27, 2003 “If I could do life all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.” 

I sat down in front of my mothers headstone with my fathers and brothers headstone on either side. I sat criss cross, staring at the ground, picking on the grass in silence. I slowly looked up. 

 “Hey, mom.” I whispered weakly, my voice was breaking and it hasn’t been five minutes yet. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” I chuckled quietly. “I got you your favorite roses,” I started as I laid a couple roses in front of them. “I know your favorites are the dark red and white ones, I got you those.” I started to play with the roses, putting them dark red and white as a pattern. “I joined the Avengers, you know? The comics about those superheroes you liked as a child? Yeah, I’m with them. It’s overwhelming sometimes, you know? I live with the people who could have saved you, but couldn’t. I could’ve saved you, but I didn’t…” 

I rubbed a hand on my face and through my hair, a bad habit I have. “…Wow… I just… I honestly don’t know what to say. It’s been just so terribly long and I missed you guys so m-” I paused ranting when I felt my hand touch a hard surface. I was really sure that roses weren’t hard and the headstone didn’t have that texture. My hand was behind the headstone when I pulled out a MP3 player. My mom had always loved those even though I told her she could just download music now. It was old, and dusty. It was the type that didn’t need headphones, the speaker type. 

 I blew off some of the dust and coughed a bit from the dust going everywhere in the air. I glanced up at the headstone a bit confused where this was going. “What are you doing, mom?” I got rid of the access dust and read the small handwriting on the inside. 

 'For when my time is up' 

I could already feel my eyes tearing up. I gulped and with a shaky hand, pressed play. There was static and then there it was; her voice. Speaking. The one I had missed so much. 

"Hi, darling."  The first tear dropped. It was actually was her! I couldn't believe it. After seven years. It was her voice. I stared at the headstone in front of me intensely with a emotionless face, listening to the voice. 

"I already know it's going to be a long time after I die when you're going to get a chance to listen to this." It honestly felt as if someone was taking my heart and ripping it to pieces. 

"I know that you might blame yourself for all of this. That your brother and father... passed. But, honey, it isn't. No matter what, it was never your fault for any of our deaths." Her voice was smooth and gentle. She never yelled at me. It was always the gentle voice talking to me. 

"If you're listening to this, I would presume I'm dead. And I know you had a hard time getting over your siblings death and mine. You might’ve never told me that you weren’t ‘okay’... but I knew you weren’t.” I pursed my lips, trying my best to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

“I know you’re feeling lost, and everywhere you go is like a dark room. But you just gotta keep going, find the light; your light... God, this is so cheesy... Find that special someone, if you don’t already. Because i need someone to take care of you, the day I can’t.” I was staring at the MO3 player in my lap with tears dropping onto it.

“There will be things you don’t want to happen, but have to accept it. Things... we don’t want to know but have to learn, and people we can’t live without, but have to let go. Darling, I’ve been through all of that I came out just fine. I even earned you in the process. You haven’t let go us yet, haven’t you.” I nodded a silent reply as if she was there.

“Find that special someone, learn to let go of me. Learn to let go. Learn to love others when I can’t. Learn to find a light when others can’t... Okay? Just find your way in this world. Okay, honey?”  I nodded carefully, while sobbing.

“Mommy?” That was my voice...

“Yes, darling?”

“What are you doing?” She was always making something as I grew up.

“A creation you will see when you are older.”

All of a sudden the MP3 player bounced out of my hands and in front of me. It laid there making mechanical sounds. I wiped all the tears from my face. It unfolded and a small camera with a indent on the side; my initials. A 3D hologram formed from the bottom out of small virtual pixels.

It was my mom hugging me on her knees. She was facing the camera as I hugged her.

“I love you, Alex.” My mom whispered, looking directly at the camera, on the verge of tears. 

“i love you too, mom.” The small version of myself and I said at the same time. She looked directly in my eyes and whistled a tune from her favorite song. Both myself and the small version of me whistled it back. I chuckled as tears fell from my eyes. 

“Goodbye, Alex.” The camera whirred back into the MP3 player and the hologram was no more. The MP3 folded back into a normal MP3. I stared at the MP3, sobbing. 

“Bye, mom.” I said between sobs. There was a presence started sitting next to me, and another on my other side. We sat in silence for a while as I looked at my lap, sobbing my lungs out. When I recovered from crying and ended up sniffling, the presence on my left talked to me.

“I lost people too, you know. I know it isn’t easy.” 

“I know.” Of course he did. He was in ice for seventy years. 

“I had too... my... mom had died in Asgard, protecting my brothers lady.”

“I know.” He had told me that when we met for one of the first times. “When did you come?” I asked the two men sitting next to me.

“When you started playing the MP3.” A voice said from behind me. I looked behind me and saw most of the team standing. I stood up, along with Steve and Loki. I hugged Tony and sobbed into his shoulder. He tensed for a moment but hugged me back, anyways. It wasn’t a weird hug. It was the type of hug where a father would give a daughter, and I haven’t had one of those in a long time. 

“Let’s go home, okay?” Loki asked me as I pulled away from Tony. I nodded with red puffy eyes. He pulled me into his side and held onto my waist. His other hand was entangled with mine. We walked back to the cars and motorcycles. We all went on our vehicles and headed back home. 

But not without Wanda whispering, “I think she found her special someone.”

•UNEDITED•

Tag: @meatballevan  

[bastillewolf]

The Grand Tranquility Hotel (VI)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: An eccentric hotel owner and an inquisitive writer find solace in each other when they both seemed to be at the edge of rock bottom.

Notes: I have the week off of work! Expect some updates in the next few days!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Chapter VI - The World’s First Ever Monster Truck Front Flip

She’d managed to rid all the tension from her shoulders after a steaming hot shower with a lovely lavender-scented shampoo and was now strewn out across her bed with the book she’d been reading from the library. She didn’t have much planned for the day, simply wanting to refrain from causing any more distress between the others and herself. But when someone came knocking at her door, she didn’t feel like she had a choice but to open it. She was met with the eyes of intrigue himself.

“Will you accompany me for the day?” Alex merely asked. “Where will we be going?” she questioned in turn.

“You wanted to know all about my hotel. So, I’ll show you what I can, writer. Meet me in the service room behind the lobby when you’re dressed.” Looking down at her figure clad only in a soft white robe, her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She saw the corner of his lips quirk up, before he sauntered back down the hallway towards the elevator. Cheeky bastard.

Having decided on wearing a long skirt with a pristine white blouse to maintain some form of professionality, she grabbed her notebook and pen and made her way towards their one-sided agreed upon meeting point. When Nick was greeted by her ‘good morning’ and with the sight of Alex holding the door to the back room open for her, he gave them a look of complete bewilderment, which Alex simply deemed to ignore. She shrugged and held her notebook a bit closer to her chest before stepping through the doorway.

The room wasn’t very large. In fact, most of the space was occupied by a large desk, filing cabinets and most prominently; television screens. They showed different camera angles to hallways and other communal areas, such as the library and dining hall. It was clearly live, because she could see Matt taking Mardy out for a walk in the gardens and Nick behind the counter, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off of the door they’d gone through. Alex took a seat at the table that held all the electronics and cables and motioned for her to do the same.

Hesitantly lowering herself on the chair next to him, he seemed to be waiting patiently until she’d opened her notebook on a blank page and her pen had revealed its ink when she scribbled down the date on the top right corner. She looked up at him and saw a look in his eyes she could only describe to be the hesitancy of a man who was desperately trying to place his trust in a stranger for the first time in years. She felt it was her turn to take the initiative. “When did the hotel first open its doors?” she decided to start with.

The simple question seemed to bring him back to focus, as he cleared his throat. “About twelve years ago, I’d say it was.” “That’s quit a while. I’m guessing you were rather young to be opening a hotel,” she noted, silently scribbling her pen across the paper in the meantime. She didn’t dare look away from him. He nodded and grumbled a chuckle. “Young, and very inexperienced. Even though I’d had everything planned out from the start, it turned out to be a lot different in practice than what I’d expected it in my head to be.”

“In what way?” He thought about it for a moment. “I guess I had to learn that I couldn’t do everything beforehand and that I had to make more direct decisions on the spot. Although, I was very lucky to have Miles and Matthew at my sides. They were with me every step of the way.”

She smiled softly. “Matt told me about your school years with him and Miles.” “He did? Yeah, we go way back. Bit ridiculous to think I made him promise to come work for me if I ever opened a hotel. Poor lad never stood a chance choosing a different career path. Miles, however, he’d always expected to become my business partner.”

“So, it hadn’t really been Miles’ initial ambition to become mayor?” Alex shook his head, “No. He’d always had a knack for politics and as you well know he’s socially very capable. But if it hadn’t been for his position today, I think this hotel would’ve remained a pipe dream.”

She hummed, letting her eyes wander over the wide array of television screens. “This is your office?” she wondered. “Of sorts,” he replied, “Though Nick often finishes his paperwork in here. It’s where everything is filed.”

“Doesn’t the noise ever bother you?” The slight static hum appeared to be constant and she felt like it derived the room of its peace. “It would most certainly drive me insane.”

“Ah, the exotic sound of data storage. Nothing like it, first thing in the morning,” he quipped with satire. “No, I think I’ve gotten used to it over the years. I don’t really hear it anymore.”

“Have you always had cameras around the hotel?”

“No. We didn’t think it was necessary for a long time, but certain events proved otherwise.”

“Events you’d rather not talk about right now.”

“You’re really getting the hang of this, writer.”

 He took her to see the library next, and their walk was silent until they were once again behind closed doors. “I didn’t mean to be secretive, but I did borrow a book from here,” she admitted, shuffling to one of the plush seats near the fireplace. “I know,” he replied, making her look at him in surprise. “I’ve read every single one of these books. They’re all classics, because I’d never let a bad piece of literature enter this room without my permission. You just happened to take one of my favourites, which I can only commend you for.”

She knew the plot of the book from memory and couldn’t help but let a mischievous smirk spread across her face. “You like cheesy romance novels?” she teased. “Laugh at me all you want, writer,” he replied, “But it was you who specifically chose that book to borrow out of all of the ones in here, which means I’m not the only one guilty of fancying a good love story.” “Alright,” she admitted, “What other genres do you prefer when you’re not swooning over Mister Darcy?”

He snickered at her banter. “I take interest in science fiction.” “Intriguing. I suppose great minds do have a wild imagination.” “Was that a compliment I heard?” he inquired. “Don’t get cheeky now, mister Turner. We’re both still testing boundaries here.”

He told her all about the becoming of his grand book collection; of how he’d initiated his fondness of reading through his mother’s literature shelves until he’d gone through them all and started sticking his nose in bookshops and libraries. “When the hotel gained more popularity, some regular guests seemed to pick up on my hobby and I’ve only ever received books as thankful parting gifts from that point on. I’m rather relieved, because I was getting sick of flowers and champagne bottles from people with horrid taste.”

“You really do sound like a ritzy hotel owner now.” “I’d rather be ritzy than be in the rubble.” She raised her brows at him with a silent inquiry at his remark. “Don’t say it,” he muttered.

It was when they winded down a staircase she hadn’t seen before did she unravel her notebook again. During the beginning of their conversation she’d only written down the facts and dates, until she’d decided her memory would suffice for the rest of their conversation. Up until he’d taken her to the lower level of the hotel, which managed to fascinate her to a great extent. “What is this place?”

She knew what it was on first glance but wanted him to elaborate on it. “It used to be a bathhouse,” he told her, “but the previous owners were never able to maintain it. It’s a long-term project of mine to restore it.”

It looked very worn indeed, but the vines that protruded the walls and the moss overgrowing the smooth pillars reminded her distinctly of the Romantic art in the paintings she’d seen across the halls of the hotel. There was a large pool in the middle, and though the green substance that most likely used to be clear water obtained a lot of algae’s, it was alleviated by the gorgeous flowers floating atop their lily pads.

The grimy pastel-coloured tiles in blues and pinks were illuminated by the soft light appearing through the ceiling window in the back of the room, which had a few cracks here and there. She walked around one of the separating walls and found an array of bathtubs lined up to the side, decorated with rusty showerheads and crooked room dividers.

“It’s gorgeous. I’m glad you haven’t decided to tear it all down,” she breathed in awe. He hummed, “I have thought about it. But I’m legally not allowed to since it’s been deemed a piece of ‘cultural heritage’ by the mayor himself.” She snickered, “So, Miles didn’t want it to be torn down.” “Let’s just say it was a mutual understanding.”

She gave him a look and took a step around the next corner, but then no longer felt the ground beneath her foot. She could start to feel gravity pull her down until a hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her back, causing her ankle to scrape against what she now recognized to be a large crater she was meant to have fallen in. Alex pulled her flush against his chest and she let out a deep breath of relief, her heart a pounding mess against her ribcage. “I understand your curiosity is getting the better of you now that I’m answering most of your questions, but it wouldn’t hurt you to be a bit more careful.” His breath tickled her ear and his husky voice was like a musical echo throughout the room. “Thank you, mister Turner. I think I’ll be alright now.”

He slowly let her arm slide out of his hand. “Were you hurt?” “Just scraped my ankle. I’ll be fine.” He shook his head. “Let’s get it sorted. Can’t have you limping around my hotel. It would ruin my reputation.” “To who? All of the other guests?” “I will push you back into that pit if I have to, writer.”

She was still able to walk well enough, but they decided against taking the stairs this time and took the service elevator instead, which lead them straight to the kitchens. He’d rummaged through a few cupboards before finding the first aid kit. She sat upon the counter and lifted her skirt a tad to inspect the damage.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut it off, miss.” She smacked his arm and he let out a bark of laughter. It was deep and vibrant, and it gave her more joy to hear it for the first time than she’d expected.

Yet, as he cleaned the wound and wrapped her ankle with a soft bandage, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of grief towards the evident wall he hid his emotions behind. It added to the long train of thoughts she was already dealing with right now, and she couldn’t say she was particularly pleased with it.

A silence washed over them as he finished his work and it gave her the opportunity to really look at him. Not just his appearance, but taking in everything he was.

“What will you do if you can’t save this hotel?”

He took long enough to form an answer that she’d almost thought he’d gotten upset with her again. Instead, he replied in a quiet voice that deeply saddened her to the core.

“I really don’t know.”

[bastillewolf]

The Grand Tranquility Hotel (IV)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: An eccentric hotel owner and an inquisitive writer find solace in each other when they both seemed to be at the edge of rock bottom.

Notes: Continuous angst and drama, but I promise next chapter Alex will show some of his better side. Love you lots for the wonderful feedback!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Chapter IV - Four Out Of Five

“Today is not just a day of celebration. It’s a day of gratitude. It’s a day where we realize our accomplishments were not only made by ourselves, but through the support of the people around us. When I built this hotel, I vowed to each of my guests that they would always have a room here, that they could place their trust in me. And in turn, I placed my trust in them. Without you, my guests, my friends, my family, I wouldn’t have been able to host this gathering. Because of you, this hotel got an exceptional rating that made not only our staff proud, but the entire country.”

There was a round of applause echoing through the large room, while a few local reporters took the moment to snap a few pictures. It quieted down again when Alex cleared his throat and raised his hand.

“I especially wanted to thank someone in particular. She is unfortunately no longer with us, but we will always remember her as one of our most esteemed guests who visited this hotel since it first opened. She’d written me a personal letter saying she had this wonderful young man who was very willing to come and work for me, who I now see as one of my most trusted employees. I am so grateful to have known her and am honoured to have her daughter remembering her amongst us tonight.”

He raised his glass, along with everyone else in the room, and held a toast to her mother’s name. All she could do was play along with a frown. Alex Turner was not the man she’d expected him to be. It all felt very forced.

“This hotel… It might hibernate from time to time, sink back into the swamp. I think the cyclical nature of the universe in which it exists demands that acquiesce to some of its rules. But we’re always waiting there, just around the corner, ready to make our way back through the sludge and smash through the glass ceiling, looking better than ever. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Have a nice night, cheers.”

The last part of his speech seemed oddly specific and she could tell it was a pointed remark. She just wasn’t sure who it was directed towards. Turner didn’t wait for the second round of applause to get off the stage, instead opting to immediately grab a flute of champagne from a tray one of the waiters was holding. “He can be so dramatic sometimes,” someone to her right chuckled.

Glancing over, her eyes found the face of a man she’d probably describe to have the most British face ever. Not unattractive in any way, his hair cut short and his hazel eyes locking hers in a warm and kind-hearted sort of embrace that made her feel immediately at ease. “You’re Miles Kane,” she blurted out. He smiled, “Correct. And you must be the ‘honoured’ guest I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Only good things, I hope,” she said with a strained chuckle. “Only good things,” he winked. The corners of her mouth quirked up. She now understood why people chose him to be mayor, even if it was only because of his charisma. “I presume you already knew about the hotel review as well?” she continued curiously. He nodded, “They asked me to give a bit of a statement for the papers. Alex told me beforehand, though.” She hummed in interest, while her thoughts wandered back to that morning where she’d only then found out about the cause of the night’s celebration.

She’d casually strolled into the dining hall where most tables had either been removed or pushed against the walls of the room. At the back, the big stage had been cleared out and now only held a microphone and a few chairs. “You look happy today,” she commented, taking a seat at their usual spot. Matt looked up at her, silently sipping his coffee as he slid a newspaper towards her.

‘The Grand Tranquility Hotel was well reviewed; rated an exemplary four stars out of five. Mayor Kane states his joy, proclaiming “it’s unheard of.”’

She smiled, “That’s fantastic! Congratulations, Matthew.” Matt waved his hand bashfully at her. “So, that’s what the whole ‘gathering’ is about. Did you already know about all of this?” “I did,” he answered, “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, miss. Mister Turner was pretty set on keeping things private until everything was set to go.” “That’s quite alright,” she replied. However, deep down she knew the predominant reason why no one had told her, thinking back to the argument she’d had with the hotel owner just the night before. They didn’t trust her, no matter how kind they were being.

“Speaking of, how are the preparations getting along?” she wondered. Matt sighed and set his fork which was still piercing a heaping amount of eggs back down on his plate. “In all honesty, miss, there’s still so much that has to be done. Nick is out looking for more temporary personnel after some cancelled at the last minute, Jamie’s preparing everything in the kitchen and you already know what kind of chaos it’s like when he’s stressed and I’m just making a list of the things I still need to figure out before the gathering. We’re not used to doing this sort of thing with a limited amount of staff, so we’re all a bit disconcerted.”

She glanced down at the notepad he had been scribbling on. “Then allow me to help. I might not be an expert party planner, but half of the things you’ve mentioned on there I can manage.” Matt shook his head, but before he could protest, she shot him a strict look. “Look, I’m offering you my services here, like you offered yours. I won’t tell mister Turner a thing and if he does find out for some reason, I’ll just tell him I was helping a friend out.” He smiled at that. “Alright then,” he finally agreed, “But you’ll have to promise me Alex doesn’t notice anything.”

And with that, she spent the afternoon moving furniture, decorating, dusting, vacuuming, tidying and all the works. She’d even aided Jamie after he’d had a breakdown over accidentally burning the cake that was sitting in the smoking oven. Using one of her mother’s trusted recipes, she’d baked him a new one that had tiers, icing and everything while he continued working on the appetizers. It resulted in him spinning her around and giving her a big kiss on the cheek.

She glanced over where her creation now stood proud and tall on a pedestal. Well, proud and tall with heaping chunks missing from it. “Jamie really outdid himself this time,” Miles commented, taking a bite of the sponge on his plate, “This cake is the best I’ve ever had.” She didn’t argue with him, because she felt Jamie deserved more credit for his work. Even if it wasn’t exactly his.

Her eyes roamed over the assorted crowd. They were what she’d expected them to be; stereotypically ritzy and exuding money. She wondered if that’s why Matt, Nick and Jamie were so adamant on letting her know she was too kind to them, because all other folks they had to deal with were like these. They weren’t the type of people to have a normal chat. Oh no, these were the personas who whispered and were opinionated about everything. When you’re so filthy rich you only hang out with the wealthy who are as impeccable as you, all forms of judgement you’ve got left is directed nit-picking and slanderous gossip.

She heard people comment on her dress, hair, makeup, she could name it all. But none who reported it directly to her. It was just loud enough so she would think it was a whisper and she wouldn’t be sure who it was from.

It was while wandering around when she finally heard comments that weren’t being made about her, but about something that most definitely interested her.

She reached for a glass from a waiter and smiled to him in thanks as she casually pretended to look for someone in the crowd while her ears picked up the conversation happening behind her.

“You know what I think?” A woman muttered, “I think this whole night is just a charity cause. He’s trying to petty us into giving him funds so he can continue his bland excuse of a hotel.” Another man  joined in, “I don’t think that’s true. Did you hear his speech? He’s trying to cover up the fact he’s going bankrupt. His little act of intimidation was rather mournful, though.”

“He’s trying to cover up a lot of things, from what I’ve heard,” the same woman stated as a matter-of-factly. She let a short, yet effective pause draw out to spark their interest, before she continued. “A little birdie told me that the poor fellow got his heart broken. Got addicted to gambling because of it, lost all his funding and then some in one night.” They gasped dramatically, and she’d heard enough.

Like the person who had been observing her from across the room, had seen enough.

She came across Matt as she moved towards the exit, who gave her a questioning look, to which she simply responded that she was tired from everything the day had brought her. “I understand, ma’am,” he said, before he gave a small smile, “I can’t explain how grateful I am-“ “Don’t worry,” she interrupted him, “Like I said, I was just helping out a friend.” She gave his arm a kind squeeze.

He called after her, “Oh, if you see Alex, tell him I’m looking for him! I’ve been finding too many empty glasses where I’ve seen him.”

As she closed the door of the hall behind her, a wave of silence washed over her like a cold breeze. She had a headache and she was sure it wasn’t because of the champagne. A walk would do her some good.

It was as if her feet had known what she was thinking, because she found herself in front of the picture with her mother in it. She actually found some of the faces to be familiar now, probably through having passed them during the party. Her eyes moved back to inspect the man between Matt and Jamie. It was a gut feeling that told her she should find out more about this particular person.

She heard the shuffling of feet beside her, but she’d half-expected the noise so she didn’t even flinch. “Got enough material for your book?” He slurred.

She blinked at Alex, the little respect she’d held for him slowly but surely dripping away like water from a tap that’s been leaking. “How could I have enough material when you won’t even tell me anything about your bloody hotel?” she shot back.

He scoffed, leaning against the wall. He clearly wasn’t sober enough to keep his balance. “You don’t need me to find out about all the details now, do you? You’ve clearly been making your own assumptions through the stories from my loyal guests.”

She raised her brows in surprise as she took a daring step towards him. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Being able to observe people is a real writer’s trait, is it not? Always keen on finding the truth, even when it’s been covered by decades of dust and grime. It’s what makes for a good book.” He pushed himself forward until he was directly in front of her. He smelled like cigarettes and expensive whiskey. “The only thing you’ve done so far is brush the surface of that grave. You’re just another cheap journalist looking for a good story to get your job back.”

His words stung and before she knew it, so did her hand.

She really hadn’t meant to slap him. She wasn’t one to slap people. Yet, it had been her body’s first instinct. It was as if a gravitational force had pulled her palm to his cheek in a very violent way. She could’ve just held his face for all she knew, if it hadn’t been for the anger rushing through her in that particular moment, inducing her decision-making to be more erratic.

He almost didn’t seem fazed at all. He just looked at her. And in the flicker of a moment, she thought she’d seen an ounce of remorse in his eyes. It was right before they turned stone cold again.

“Leave,” he hissed. She was at a loss for words. When he got no response, he audibly made his request clearer. “Leave. You’ll pack your things. And you’ll be leaving, tonight.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” a voice proclaimed from behind him. She turned to look at Matthew, who was joined by Jamie and a distressed-looking Nick. Miles stepped out from the hall as well, closing the doors behind him to give them some form of privacy.

“Our guest has decided to shorten her stay with us,” Alex stated, his eyes not leaving hers, “If you could take her to the train station in a bit, Matthew.”

“The hour is late, Alex. There won’t be a train till morning,” Matt simply replied. “Then you can drive her all the way back home, if you must,” Alex snarled, while running a hand through his dark hair.

“I’m sorry, Alex. But she’s staying.”

Matt didn’t hold his usual backtalk. It seemed he was more tired and disappointed than angry. When Alex realized none of his friends were going to take his side, - not even Miles made a comment - he stormed back into the dining hall and slammed the door. She could distantly hear him yelling, telling everyone the party’s over. When he was done and people started shuffling out, he disappeared around a corner.

She noticed Matt’s jaw clench as Miles let out a deep sigh. “I think it’s best if I stay around for a while,” he simply said. As Nick led him to the front desk to hand him a key, Matt placed an arm around her shoulder while his eyes remained directed towards the same hallway Alex had drunkenly stumbled off through. “Come on, miss. Let’s get you back to your room. It’s been a long night.”

[slothgiirl]

shadowplay part 11

"Well I'm pooped," Breana announces as Matt pulls in to Monterey bay.

 It had barely been what felt like ten minutes since you'd gotten back inside after Breana's mini photoshoot at a bridge, which had been pretty enough, but you felt like a selfie had been enough. Six hours of doing nothing but sitting had not been fun. 

Zack had turned out to be easy to talk to, excitedly pointing put landmarks and cities as you passed, and trying to get Matt, after they had switched driving positions, and failing to get him to pull over at every point of interests. "But its a danish town," he'd cried, smacking the headrest much too Miles' amusement. "We've got to go there."

"You've been to Denmark," Matt had replied undeterred, even as Breana mentioned it would be cute too stop there. "I want to get there before dark," Matt had countered, unmoved, the car rolling on by. 

There was lots of trees and ocean to see. Lots of California to take in that wasn't just the hollywood sign, as much fun as that had been. 

You were much more interested in exploring with the time you had then documenting it in flawless social media bound pictures, though that might have been because you weren't all that photogenic. You had no clue which was your more flattering side. 

When Matt had tired of taking pictures of Breana, she'd roped you in which you had to take for a good sign. After all, you were going to spend a week with these people and you couldn't spend that entire time hiding in whatever room you got. 

"We should go to the aquarium," Zack immediately proposes as you all get out of the car, before explaining to you, "it's supposed to be world famous."

You shrug, "I'm never not okay with an aquarium. . ."

"An aquarium is an aquarium," Miles quips back, shaking his head, and stretching out right next to the car. "How special can it be?"

"Guess we just have to go check it out," Zack smiles hopefully. 

"No. I've already made an itinerary," Breana says, shutting down all his ideas, "We're going to go eat at Cannery Row and get some pictures before finishing the drive.  

"And who gave you that right," Miles says teases archly, his brow rising to his hairline. 

She rolls her eyes, "I made a groupchat and you assholes never said anything. Not my fault." She carefully fixes the audrey hepburn-esque scarf around her hair in the car's window, attaining that effort-effortless windswept look. 

"Why don't we," Alex offers casually, as he lights up a cigarette, having , "just split up? Meet back here in an hour or two?" 

It's a fantastic idea as far as you're concerned. And alright, you won't lie, while your claim to Alex is as solid as your fake relationship is real, you've gotten used to having him to yourself. To having him over at your flat or going out for a drink or food, or walking around the park in the rain, all of his attention on you. That and you can't help but feel like the odd one out here. 

All your past boyfriends have been friends of friends or close friends where it wasn't this awkward to suddenly be hanging out with their friends. 

Maybe that was just adulthood. 

Your circle of friends was much smaller now than it had been in trade school or even back in college when you could always rely on having known someone, even if you weren't close, since you'd started attending school. 

Zack throws an arm around Miles, grinning widely, "the aquarium was name checked in Finding Nemo." 

Miles shakes his head, chuckling, as he takes Alex's cigarette as his own, "you've got to find yourself a girl mate! You're starting to take your friends out on dates."

"Easier said than done," Zack comments, his features taking on a somber cast. 

"Two hours," Breana asks even as she stares everyone down, forcing them to comply, a woman with a plan. 

"Sure," Zack answers, already pulling up an uber on his phone. Reflexively, you look over at Alex, assuming you're going where ever he goes. It would be strange if you didn't go with him, your supposed boyfriend, wouldn't it? 

Only to meet his gaze, already on you, a tint of red on his cheeks as he smiles softly. 

You smile back. 

"Two hours Kane," Breana shouts as she and Matt walk off. 

"Al's way more likely to forget," Miles calls back.

Instead of responding Alex, cups you cheek, kissing your lips softly. You don't mind at all, readily kissing him back. There's only a hint of smoke on his tongue. 

"Any place in particular," you ask him, the first to pull away, all to aware of his touch as he holds your hand. 

"I've got a place in mind," he admits, "unless you've-."

"I didn't google a thing."

"Ya don't mind walking love?"

"All the better to take in the sight," you point out, glancing around the car park. The beach was right there. Only a couple hundred meters away. Painted houses on stilts coloring the view. "So where are we going?"

"A park," Alex tells you, as you find the walkway, only semi covered in sand and oh well, there go your loafers. Though you have had these forever so maybe this'll be a good thing. Get a pair of those ridiculously expensive and ridiculously cute miu miu ballet flats. "Well, sort of a park. It's also a beach."

"A really nice beach," you question, looking over at all the beach that currently surrounds you meaningfully. It would be nice regardless you were sure of it. Spending time with Alex was always a win in your book. Even if lately it left you way more flustered than you would have liked. 

"I 'fink all beaches in California are extremely nice," Alex says even as a pout forms on his lips, a tell-tale sign that he was sinking deep into his thoughts. "It's the sun. . .hard to be disappointed if the day's nice. . .. ya know?"

You laugh easily, "I'll give you that. But can we walk by the water. I didn't fly all this way to not get my feet wet."

"We can do that."

So loafers in hand you trudge through the sand, that makes its way into all creases of your jeans, glad to be stretching out your legs. Alex pops his sunglasses on, sunglasses you hadn't even thought to pack. 

You were pretty sure you didn't even have a pair of sunnies, in the perpetual habit of getting a cheap pair for a hol, or during the summer, sure you were going to use them, and inevitably losing them in a hotel or taxi. 

"So Matt and Breana?" You have to ask. 

You've been to their house but you still can't picture them together. Matt seems like every other lad you've ever met at a pub. Breana was. . .californian in the way you'd imagined people here to be like which wasn't a bad thing, now that she was beginning to talk to you. Then again, maybe being careful just came with being famous. 

"Have been together for a long time now," Alex tells you, careful to keep his boots dry as you let the cold water soak your feet. The bottoms of your jeans now wet. 

"Well," you utter, hoping to get a laugh out of Alex, "Some men do get pegged."

Alex snorts. "she certainly keeps Matthew in line."

"Don't you ever get lonely," you wonder, "if all your friends live out here? I mean, not that I have loads and loads of friends, or go out all that much, but just knowing I could text them and see them is nice."

"I've got you don't I," he points out, as the waves rush out, leaving behind uncovered shells and rocks. 

The water is warmer than any English beach, or maybe you've got rose coloured glasses on, being a tourist and all. 

You blush, "you know what I mean! I'm no Miles." 

As much as you loved Sam, who'd kept texting you as if you could reply immediately and didn't have to wait to steal wifi from a Starbucks or some other free wifi establishment, you'd go crazy if she was your only friend. You needed friends like James, that while as dorky as you, was much more out going, and willing to wake up with you at dawn for a sample sale.

 And you were sure Sam needed friends who also loved to go out as much as she did. 

"And you have no idea how glad I am," he grins, "dunno if there's enough room for two Miles' in the world."

"Ah so he's the Mick Jagger to your Paul McCartney."

Alex lets go of your hand, placing it over his heart dramatically, "are you calling me boring love!"

"Don't be so sensitive," you cry out, kicking water at him ruthlessly, "it's a compliment. I love when you come over so we can both sit in silence and not talk while reading. Just the best."

"I can't tell if your being sarcastic," he says with a shake of his head. It had been the same ruthless joking as he'd gotten ready this morning. You'd watched him use up so much gel and pomade and couldn't stop laughing. Alex had taken much longer to get ready. 

Your heart aches as you lean over, kissing him for once because sooner or later you'd have to initiate wouldn't you? To sell the act. It would look strange if Alex was the only one who went about kissing you. At least you told yourself, a rush of heat burning your cheeks as your lips meet his. "I really do enjoy it," you admit, pulling away much too quickly for your satisfaction. 

You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to kiss him properly, the very scent of him imprinted in your mind, probably from all the times he'd stayed over at yours. Coffee, the sharp smell of high quality leather, and smooth musk. "I think you're the only person I don't mind going to the pub with."

"Oh don't mind," Alex notes, not missing a beat or a the subtext, "how generous."

"I know. I know," you laugh, wondering when he'll hold your hand again. There's no need, since his friends are in some other part of the city. No need to pretend. But then again, there was no need to kiss him either. "I'm the only British person to hate beer." 

You know you've arrive when Alex suddenly stops, looking around pensively. It looks like the rest of the beach you've just walked through. Only with a car park and more green. Houses ringing the area. Some people were lucky enough to have the beach steps from their homes. 

"It's 'spposed to be a park," Alex finally explains, "cause you love parks. Even when it rains."

"Maybe Californians," you joke, slipping your hand through his arm, patting his shoulder gently, "are confused about what a park is. And you sort of have to go when it rains. It's practical. I'm not waiting for the four days of the year when it doesn't rain in London." 

It was so thoughtful of Alex to spend your meager amount of time in Monterey somewhere he'd thought you'd like. It was that thoughtfully romantic streak that ran through all of his actions, regardless of if you were actually dating. 

The same streak responsible for Alex remembering which curry you got at every indian place. That had him remembering where you stored the spare blankets in the morning when he was folding them up as you hurried to make it to work. 

He was a great friend. 

You couldn't imagine how he was with an actual girlfriend. 

" 's nice," he admits, taking out a cigarette, "walking through a park in the rain. Makes me appreciate the rain. . .Long as it isn't full on storming."

"There's a sweet spot," you concur. "I don't think even I could manage a full on storm. I'm not Jane Eyre."

You take a seat on some large rocks, taking in the scenery. Watching people go by on bikes, running with their phone in hand, or simple strolling about. It really is a lovely beach. 

The whole place is lovely. you're glad you walked. 

A dutiful tourist, you take out your phone to take pictures. To remember the place and to appease Sam and James who you're sure will interrogate you as soon as you get back home. You can't help but laugh as you note how relaxed everyone's style here is, lots of loose and cropped clothes, compared to Alex's getup. 

Shamelessly, you take a picture. 

"Always taking the piss outta me," he shakes his head, gaze never straying far from yours. 

"You make it so easy." 

Alex surprises you entirely by asking an older man walking his large dog, tail waggling, to take a picture of the two of you. Saying girlfriend needlessly, butterflies in your stomach at his words. 

It's dumb. It makes you feel dumb, and you never want this to end. This slice in time, where it's you and Alex and you can loose yourself in the idea of him actually being your boyfriend as ridiculous as that is. 

None of the pictures are flattering. The light harsh in the noon sun. Alex is looking over at you in all the pictures instead of the camera and you are grasping at straws for that to mean something.

 Fuck. You're not going to make it through the week. Sam was right and you hate her for it. 

You don't think that you can remain friends if you don't air out your feelings for him. 

But then again, maybe that would ruin everything. You can only hope that the feelings will go away soon. 

Highly doubtful. 

"Want to take an uber and get food," Alex asks because you only have an hour left. You could spend a whole week here. With a towel, bathing suit, and a pile of books. Easily. 

"I've been in the states for twenty four hours and haven't had Mcdonalds yet," you tell him. 

"Mcdonalds is for when its 3 am and your pissed love."

"Sushi." You raise a brow. 

"I can do sushi."

You laugh, "what an enormous sacrifice Alexander."

[slothgiirl]

shadowplay part 10

Breanna smiles at you like you're a friend of her parents she got home to find sitting in her house. She's pretty in a girlish way. Though her personality sours the beauty fast. It's going to be a long week if this goes on. 

Not that Matt or Alex notice. Having not shut up even if their conversation is quiet. Matt skewing towards the more serious side of subdued than Alex's melancholia. Though it's probably more because you and Breanna are here then anything.

Dumbass boys. 

You sit in her Martha Stewart kitchen. Alex's hand on your thigh as he talks. After the fourth attempt at conversation with the woman you'd given up, shamelessly studying Alex's profile. There was nothing like seeing him open up, unguarded. It always had your chest filling with warmth. 

You were waiting on Miles and Zack to arrive. Zack having the car you'd be driving up North. So far you'd gleaned that you'd be taking a scenic route. Not that you'd be driving, having never learned how. 

Breakfast was a poor plating of a slice toast, half an avocado, some mysterious root vegetable that was perhaps a health alternative to potatoes, one egg, and a single strip of bacon. A clear compromise between Breanna and Matt's dietary choices. 

You wish you'd indulged more at the french restaurant last night. Stuffed some bread in your purse. 

"-so what do you do," Matt asks. 

You blush as you realize they're all looking at you. You having gotten lost in thought. No clue how the conversation had even reached you. Your eyes glancing at Alex, which is the wrong choice, because you end up having to cover your hand as you burst into giggles. Made acceptable by Alex also laughing. 

Matt glances back and forth between the two of you, shoulders squared like a protective older brother. You'd expected nothing less. Sam's opinion of Alex heavily depended on how heart eyed you were as you talked about him. 

"I'm a tailor," you offer. Before waving your fingers in front of your face like a cartoon witch and adding, "or as the french would say, petit mains."

"We met at a coffee shop," Alex adds, leaning dangerously close to the truth.

You roll your eyes, trying to keep the story straight, "My work doesn't have eyes and ears here." Then tell Matt, "we met while I was fitting him."

"Can you get fired for that," Matt asks bluntly. 

"It's highly discouraged," you admitt, "but that didn't stop Mr. Carmichael from carrying on with the embroider. His wife came in one day and threw a brick through the shop window."

"No way," Breana says, gaping as she leans forward, arms on the table. 

"She was fired but I have a feeling it was the whole window stunt that did it." It had been a wild day. "Work was let out early," you add conspiratorially  "for obvious reasons."

The conversation soon moves on. The last two arrive, filling the house with noise. Noise curtesy of Miles. Miles who runs up to Alex, wrapping his arms around him and planting a kiss on his temple. "Alex you fucking wanker!"

Alex results in kind, wrapping his own arms around Miles and grinning. Matt rolls his eyes, taking a swing of his beer. It's only eleven in the morning. Zack nods at you as he takes a seat next to you, "fall in love with any more rockstars while having them fitted?"

"Well Thom Yorke was in the other day but I dunno if I could date an alien," you joke.

"I would've gone for it," Zack laughs, helping himself to some of the toast Breana laid out in the middle of the table. "Man's a legend."

You snort. "I'll be sure to let 'im know."

"-how's," Alex starts to ask Miles, who's still firmly sitting in his lap and stealing his coffee, "Sydney was it?"

Miles shakes his head, tsking. "It's all about Isabella now," he corrects, twirling his hands about, mimicking flamenco dancers. A true born showman. 

"Can't exactly keep up with the girl of the week." Alex notes lightly with a sly grin on his lips, his eyes meeting yours and god you were so fucked. Should've shown him how much last night. But you'd both curled up in the guest room, tucked into each other, as soon as you'd gotten back. 

"Oi," Miles protests, "I'm young. They're young. We can't all be settled in this disgusting domestic bliss." He waves the mug around the kitchen, clearly taking a jab at Matt and Breana. "Dunno how blissful it can be what with this awful health bread," he mutters pointedly. 

"Fuck you Kane," Breana says, glaring cooly at him, "it's gluten free bread."

"Disgusting," Miles enunciates every syllable.

She flips him off. 

Miles gets off Alex, sliding into the last empty chair, across from you. His eyes yellow like a particularly preening hawk zero in on you. He's clad in skin tight creme jeans paired with gucci loafers from the eighties, leather cracked at the toe, and an outrageously bold tiger print shirt. 

He raises a well groomed brow. 

You smile in response. 

Miles pivots, "yah going to Arielle's wedding Al?"

You know Alex is a hard no. But in that moment, Alex shrugs uncomfortably. Reading him perfectly, Miles replies, "ya have to go! You can't not go. She invited you. You've gotta show your face!"

"I hate to say it," Matt observes, "but he's right."

"That's literally what I've been saying," you add, tired of just sitting there. It was going to be a long week if you didn't jump off the deep end and start trying to make friends. 

"Yes," Miles grins, pointing at you, "this one is fookin' right Al! You gotta have the stiff upper lip." He puffs his chest out, back straight, "your briddish after all."

Alex only rolls his eyes. Unwilling to be baited into doing anything he doesn't want to do. 

"Let's get going yeah," Matt wonders out loud, trying to coral everyone. And he somehow does, beer in hand, get everyone into Zack's large black SUV. You've never seen anything more american than that. Even with everyone's things, three guitars between the six of you, there was plenty of room inside. 

Zack takes the wheel and Miles doesn't miss the opportunity to control the music in the passenger seat, spending most of the first two hours of the drive, the ocean right there outside your window, head turned back and talking back and forth with Alex and Matt. He perches like an overly large bird on the seat, pushing the top of his belt aside. Sunglasses doing nothing to dim the continuous energy that pours out of him as he waves his hands about and mimics accents to make a point, jabbing the air with his cigarette. 

Matt sits next to Alex, barely spearing you a glance, leaving you next to Breana who you hope will warm up to you at some point in the next 11 hours. Hopefully. 

Your phone's down to 67 percent. 

There's no way you'll make it. 

You look over at her looking down at her phone, all california cool, "your nails are so cute! what do you do to keep them so nice though? Mine always chip so I've given up." Which wasn't a lie. A nice pale pink with hot pink tiger stripes overlaid. Your nails lasted an hour if you were lucky before chipping. 

"Oh, thank you," Breana says, looking up, "I model and have a business with my sisters so I guess it helps that I'm not working with my hands a lot."

"True," you answer, looking down at yours. There was definitely some scars, Thicker skin around your nailbed where the thimble had built up a callous. "I use thimbles. I'm the literal one person market audience for those tourist thimble, and my fingers still get nicked by a needle now and then."

"Those little cheap cup things," Breana asks for clarification because thimbles are only useful for sewing. A complete grandmother pass time. 

"Yeah," you replied  relaxing in your seat as the conversation gets going. Breana making it obvious she isn't just going to brush you off. Maybe she was close with Arielle? You'll have to ask Alex. 

"I used to get those because they were so cheap," Breana exclaims, "when I'd travel. Perfect souvenir  Small and cheap. No clue where they are now."

You laugh, settling in for the next few hours. 

[slothgiirl]

forever isn’t for everyone part 10

We all head straight to the hotel, just in time for the first interviews of the day; throwing Jamie and Miles to the wolves. It's a nice place, that we won't enjoy. Having lost a day means that after using the hotel for interviews, we'll have to run to the venue. Only Lucy and the two band members get off at the hotel. 

The rest of us, unlucky as we are, have to get and attempt a soundcheck down half our crew. It's hell. 

Made worse at the thought of Alex holed up in the tour bus as we rush around. Unbothered by work as he's just Miles' plus one. Having stayed up all night with Miles, playing guitar and making my head want to explode as I'd laid in my bunk, thinking about how deft his hands on the strings were. Working myself up and worst of all-- missing him. 

Lucy had been right. I text her as much only to hear a snort above me. Unhelpful in everything except gossip. 

By the time Miles and Jamie get back, having been grilled to hell and back, Jamie looking like the worlds most uncomfortable toddler who's cheeks have been pinch way too many times by strangers, most of the set up has been done. The California sun beating down on us as we enjoy munching on the food set up for us. 

It's one of those days when I could care less if it's any good. That fucking hungry. 

Miles keeps glancing down at his phone, a bundle of nervous energy instead of the usual chaotic energy. He reminded me so of the boys in school who would talk back to the teacher and cause riots of laughter among students. He gets up, grabbing another beer and pacing around the room before collapsing into a chair once more. 

It's making me nervous. 

"You alright Miles," I venture, when he sits down by me, frowning down at his phone. 

"Yeah. Yeah," he says dismissively, not bothering to look up from his phone. "Just peachy doll."

I roll my eyes, but persevere. Part of my job is too make sure the talent's holding up. And we might not be friends outside of work, but you can't live on the road for weeks with people and just not care about them. "You're calling me doll. Now I'm really worried."

He laughs humorlessly. "It's all right Ellie. Really."

"Is it Alex?"

Miles' eyes pierce my gaze, the goblin child mirth absent in lieu of surprise. "No. No. sort of." He glances down at the ground, at the carpet the color of cat vomit, whose original color had been lost to time. "He's just got a bit of a headache. That's all."

"Right," I reply, unconvinced by his slippery gaze and the airy tone. 

" 'm sorry about whatever happened between you two," he utters bluntly. "Say the word and I'll send him away.”

"You don't really mean that," I note, fiddling with my thumbs, unable to hold his gaze now as color rises to my cheeks, "or else you'd have offered at the start of the tour. Not two weeks before it ends in south america."

"Technically," Miles counters, pointing his finger right at me, "its just a break before the festivals.  I can make do with out 'im." 

"I highly doubt that," I remark. Everything's in order in the venue. I'll give myself this one night to skip the concert. While people watching could be fun, and there was nothing like the energy of a live band filling the venue with hundreds of screaming fans, I was a bit over it tonight. Having spent the majority of yesterday in the same confined area with Alex, and being careful not to make it too obvious I was avoiding him, had drained me. 

I walk out the door and into the warm summer night. It was a nice change from Utah. The city bathed in lights as the sun set. Just like that an entire summer gone by. Tomorrow was a second show. Then Pomona. Then San Diego  Soon we'd be in South America and then onto Europe. Miles had been wrong, there was only a week before Europe. 

I let out a breathe as I wish for the first time in my life for a cigarette. All this traveling with a rock band and I'd finally picked up some bad habits. I walk down sunset strip and right into a liquor, wishing I had thought to nick some of the cigarette boxes that filled an entire bowl backstage. Thank god for riders. And next year I'd be doing it all over again with another band. The thought filled me with dread. I'd gotten used to Nick and Jamie. To Ben and Miles who often ended up ontop of tables dancing and dunk and pulling Alex up along with him. 

As soon as I take a drag, I can feel the knot inside my chest begin to ease up. More and more neon signs light up. It's not Vegas, with its kitchy over the top theatrics, but Los Angeles feels like every noir detective movie I'd seen. It's so much like the grimy and cheesy eighties action movies set in these very streets. If not for the actual stale smell of actual garbage. The cars honking every five seconds.

Streets clogged like heart arteries with cars. 

I slip into the first bar I find that's playing loud music. The strokes. God, how I used to dance around my room to their music at one in the mornings instead of finishing my assignments. 

"What can I get for you," the bartender, young, maybe only a year older than me, asks in her vocal fry Californian way. 

"rum and coke," I reply. 

"I love your accent," she replies, already pouring out the cheap rum and coke. I set down a ten-er and find a seat in a small alcove, the crushed velvet seat smelling thickly of cheap beer and cigarette smoke. I slump in my seat and watch people come in and out. 

At least I'd seen the TLC Chinese theater on the way in. Even got a picture that wasn't completely blurry at a red light. Months into the tour and my will to go sight see was dead. My feet would not, refused to even think, of walking another two miles down to the famous street. 

I was almost for sure spending my week off curled up in my bed watching random reality tv shows. 

After my rum and coke I grab a cranberry vodka, feeling like a teenager who'd taken a juice box to school. 

The door opens and a familiar face walks in, already chatting up a girl. It's Alex, with the sort of charisma that takes weeks of hacking at his reserved nature to get through. The girl, a acid blonde, is eating it up, giggling against his shoulder as they order drinks. 

It's heartbreak all over again.  

Instead of doing the rational thing, and leaving before I cry in a random bar, I sit there and watch. Watch as he wraps his arm around her, curling his fingers around her waist. She leans into him, laughing loudly like all these Americans do. Stumbling a little as they take a table by the entrance. Alex smiles evenly, even as she wipes tears of laughter from her eyes. 

Shouldn't he be at the concert with his bezzie mate? 

I swallow back bitterness. It's been three months. Plenty of time to have gotten over him if I hadn't been on the road with him for all of that time. That was all. As soon as this tour was over I'd never have to see his face again. 

Even if I wanted to. 

Even if my heart still fluttered when he smiled softly, eyes sparkling with delight as he got absorbed in the conversation. In Miles and even Matt to some extent. He was charming despite his distant nature. The very picture of having your head in the clouds. The dreaminess only made him that much more appealing. I down the rest of my drink, feeling my throat burn, before resolving to leave. This was a sign I should go to the Chinese theater. Get a photo of me among the walk of fame. Why torture myself about Alex? 

He'd been an ass. I had to remind myself of that night, of the week leading up to it when he wouldn't even give me an explanation for why meeting up for breakfast was too much for him. 

When I look up, they're gone. 

I sigh in relief. 

The night in LA is less black, then a midnight blue. The light pollution illuminating even the grimiest corner. I start to walk in the direction of the crowd. Even at eight, the street was as busy as ever. Like New York, like London, this culture capital never slept. It eased any reservations I had about wondering alone at night in a foreign city. 

I'd just get a taxi back to the venue. 

I'm almost down to the light when two figures catch my attention out of the corner of my eye. Down a badly lit alley. There's a homeless woman sleeping at the entrance.

I stop and stare. 

Alex's auburn hair obscuring his features, but I'd know him anywhere. Know the curve of his spine, the way he carried himself, curled in on himself in a way that could only be described as dainty. His lips against the blonde's neck. It's salt in the wound that's been reopened. fuck. I should've stayed behind in Utah. 

I'm about to turn tail and run when my eyes focus on the blonde. Her arms held still by Alex's hands. Back against the wall. It's a red flag ringing in the back of my mind. The flag that my mothers had impressed into my little prepubescent mind, both of them telling me what to do if I ever felt uncomfortable with a man. Both of them biting their nails with each word.

I stride forward without another thought. Jaw clenching shut. 

It doesn't take long to reach them. But my shoe makes an awful crunching sound as I step on a discarded crisps bag. 

Alerting Alex. 

Words well up in my mouth. Stop. What the fuck are you doing. Alex. But they all die on my lips as Alex looks up, his eyes meeting mine. Instead of the caramel color I'm used to, so bloody fond of. . .his eyes like a pair of rubies met mine. A look of utter devastation crosses his fine features. "I can explain," he utters in a rush, lips stained carmine with blood. 

My brain short circuits. Not wanting to make the connection. Not wanting to hear it. I wish I'd stayed. I don't want to know. I don't. Fuck. Jesus fucking christ. 

My mouth can't form words. Can only look from Alex to the hands, still clasped tightly around the blonde. Her smile dazed as she sways, all her weight on him. Alex lets her go. 

She sways like the branches of a willow tree in the wind, almost falling over before the jolt of the fall kicks her back into consciousness. Her eyes widen as she looks at both of us for a tense second. Her mouth widens comically into an O before she screams. 

Alex moves, surging forward and pressing his hand to her mouth, silencing her scream before it can make its way out of the alley and into the trafficked street. He gazes deeply into her frightened eyes. "Forget this night. You had a drink with a stranger and then went home. Now go on. Run back home and sleep the night away." He wipes the last hint of blood from her neck before he lets her go.

Her gaze slacks as he speaks, until the fear retreats. And just like that, like malleable clay, she walks out of the alley, and off into the night. I watch her disappear around the corner. Still shocked silent. 

"El," Alex whispers sadly, much too close for comfort. Having crossed the distance between us while I was distracted. A mistake on my part. A primal terror surging through my mind, telling me to run. To get as far from Alex as possible. "Why'd you have to see?" 

His eyes still unnaturally red.

I shake my head slightly. Aware of his hand reaching for my cheek, frozen in the air, as if held back by some invisible force. "No." I shake my head much more firmly. I don't. I don't want to make the connection consciously that the back of my mind already has. That my mind is insisting of as everything off about him falls into place. 

Alex closes his eyes, taking a step back. "I can let you forget this all if that's what you wish." When he opens his eyes once more, they're back to his normal color. It eases a lump in my throat I hadn't realized had built up. 

This. . .this Alex I might be able to deal with. So much more familiar. If not for the blood on those lips I had spent so many nights kissing.

I rup my temples. "No. No. What the actual fuck."

"El."

"Stay the bloody hell away from me Alex!"

"El please," he pleads, arms held up in a calming motion as though I'm freaking out over nothing. Like he's not a v. . .no. I refuse to go there despite the evidence. "Let's go somewhere to talk."

"I'm not going anywhere alone with you," I spit, stepping back. Wanting to put more distance between us. Had he done that to me? How would I ever even know?

"Of course not," Alex replies, voice wavering, choked full of emotion as he continues, "somewhere crowded-," 

"So you can brainwash me!"

Hurt flashes across his eyes, "I would never hurt you," Alex insists. 

"You already did." I state. Because it had been three months. And Alex, my first serious adult relationship had just-I was left heartbroken. 

He closes his eyes once more sighing. I could run right now. But something more complex than simple fear roots me to this spot in the alley. Alex rubs the bridge of his nose before trying once more.

"El," he sighs with centuries of built up melancholia, "please just listen to me and then you can decide whatever you wish. I'll never bother you again. But El-," his voice breaks. "El I can't refuse for this to be my last memory of you."

My heart flutters, still longing for him even now. Even with the blood drying on his lips. And I can't help but say, "okay."

[girlinthepictureframe]

The Briefest Kiss Part 7A

2016

Miles sat on a bench outside some fancy restaurant with a tongue-twisting french name that Alex had picked for the occasion. It was his birthday. They were in the last stages of preparing for their Shadow Puppets tour and every day was filled with rehearsals, interviews, photo shoots or some other thing that stretched both his and Alex's nerves to the snapping point.

He was deeply appreciative of Alex's effort to make this night memorable. His friend had a heart of gold and if ever there was the occasion for an effort, one could always count on Alex to step up and make it. But, even though Miles would never admit it to Alex, he would have preferred to spend the evening at home, on the couch, with Alex. Relaxing. It was a strange wish for him. Usually, it was him who loved large gatherings and parties of all kinds. Tonight, though, he would have liked a respite.

Taking another long pull from his cigarette, Miles gazed upwards and swallowed a yawn.

“Exhausted, huh?”

A smile appeared on his face. “That obvious?” He met Alex's eyes. “I love the party. Thank you so much, babe. A wonderful gift.”

“Gift? This party isn't your gift, my friend. Just a little demonstration of my appreciation of you.” Alex sat down next to him and rested his forehead against Miles' temple.“I haven't been very easy to be around, lately. I know I can be a nuisance before tour. And,” he admitted cheekily, “I'll be even worse on tour. So better think of his night as my attempt to preemptively make up for a lot of shit that I'll do or say down the road.”

Miles chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Alex's shoulders. Having him this close was dangerous. It made him long for him in a way he knew was entirely inappropriate. They were friends. He ought to remember that. He ought to ignore the warmth that Alex spread in him. He ought to fight the urge to always touch him. But it was getting harder and harder with each day. If only Alex would object to any of it! The fact that he didn't made Miles feel that much worse. His friend trusted him completely, sought him out for comfort, and here he was, shamelessly using that trust, that literal physical connection, to satisfy his festering curiosity and his unsavory needs. “Don't worry. You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, stricken by his own guilt.

Miles felt the heat from the point where Alex's head touched; he felt it slowly sprawling through his body. It was almost overwhelming. So far into the night, long past the point of being sober, his better judgment was step by step shutting down operations and all that remained was his own free will. And boy, that free will had a wild mind of his own. Miles squeezed his eyes shut, fighting for control. Maybe a change of topic would help? “If this isn't my gift, then what is it? Is it the gift basket with the purple loofah I saw in the backroom?” It was a hard task to not whisper. They were so close. It was so very tempting to hush the words into Alex's ear, maybe brush his lips against his skin. Just a little taste. Just for a half a second.

No, shouted the little bit of self-control he had left in him. Get a grip, man!

“Would you like a loofah?” Alex laughed softly. A torturous act. His small puffs of air felt like canon fire against his fast-crumbling walls of defense. “It's your birthday,” whispered his friend, making the walls tumble faster, “I'll get you anything you want.”

Oh God. A shiver went down Miles' spine.

Alex leaned back just the tiniest bit. “Are you cold? Shall we go inside?”

The loss of contact made Miles regain the smallest fraction of control. “No. Not yet. I like the quiet night.”

Alex sat back, shrugged out of his blazer and placed it over Miles' back. “I wouldn't want you to catch a cold on your birthday. What kind of friend would that make me, huh?” A chuckle slipped past his lips. His forehead returned to its spot against Miles' temple.

There was still that obstinate bit of lust that seemed to materialize every time Alex stepped into the scenes of Miles' life, but Alex's kind gesture completely distracted him from noticing. Instead, all his focus lay on his friend's arms, on his goosebumps, his tiny little hairs as they stood upwards. Alex was freezing, deliberately. Miles quickly took the jacket from his back, wrapped an arm around Alex to pull him closer, then placed the jacket around both their shoulders. “This is bloody ridiculous!” His arm remained around the back, his hand rubbing up and down to spread warmth. “Don't do that, Al! Don't put my needs above yours. You're shivering now!”

“Trust me, I'm not freezing,” reassured Alex.

But Miles wasn't convinced. Not when he saw evidence to the contrary. “I can see that you are. And why are you wearing a short sleeved shirt tonight? It's too bloody cold for that!”

Alex laughed. “Are you seriously telling me to dress according to the weather? Let's recall last year's summer party at Matt's! It was scorching hot outside and who showed up wearing a black leather jacket?” He gave him a pointed look.

Miles grinned. “It was a new jacket. I didn't have the patience to wait for fall to come around.” His eyes still lingered on Alex's arms when he spotted the tattoo. It didn't look new. But, then again, it had been a while since he'd seen his friend in short sleeves. “Oh Alexander, what have you done?”

“Alexander?” Alex blinked confused. “Have you ever called me that? And what are you talking about, Mister Miles Peter Kane?”

Miles motioned towards the tattoo. “She put her trademark on you?”

Alex looked down at his arm. He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Happened a while ago.” Then he placed his hand on top of it, self-consciously. “Told you, it can always be removed later. For now it'll make her happy.”

“What about what makes you happy,” wondered Miles, worried about his friend. He was in the habit of trying to make those around him happy, but he often forgot about himself. “Are you happy with her?”

“As happy as I can be,” said Alex.


It wasn't the answer he had hoped for. He heard the self-loathing that his friend was prone to at times, heard the doubt and the way he was settling instead of aiming for more. “I hope one day you'll find somebody who completely, utterly knocks your socks off. I'd like to see you smile at some woman the way you smile at me sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Alex, a bit of confusion in his voice.

Miles pecked his friend's forehead, then got up and held out his hand for him. Alex took it. “Wholly. When you smile at me, you don't hide yourself. I can see right into your soul. When you smile at them, you always have your guard up. Even now, even with Taylor.”

“That's because I trust you. You won't ever hurt me. I don't need to be guarded around you. Besides, do you let Hannah see the full you?”

Miles hesitated, then shook his head. They were still holding hands, fingers entwined. “Maybe I should follow my own advice,” he said, half-joking. His gaze landed on their hands. He didn't let go, just squeezed a bit tighter. “Come on, I'm ready for my cake now!”

He turned around, pulled Alex with him and delighted when he felt his friend wrap his arms around him from behind. Tonight was his birthday. Tonight, he decided, he wouldn't care for the appropriate amount of proximity or personal space or anything that could put a damper on his mood. Tonight, he'd party. As they made their way back towards the large table, he saw that people had gathered around it and were awaiting him.

Alex let go of him, took a seat on Miles' chair and patted his lap, flashing a giant smile. “Sit here! You're gonna love this cake. I ordered it myself and told them how to decorate it!”

Miles grinned at Alex, who sounded so proud of himself for having managed that. As he sat down on Alex's lap, Miles relaxed and got comfortable. For tonight, he wouldn't worry about blurry lines and or the risks of letting go. It was his party and he'd enjoy every last moment of it.

Present Day

“What do you mean, you shaved his hair off? I haven't seen him all day. I think he's avoiding me or something.” Miles took a sip from his water bottle. He'd just finished his sound-check for the night and sat on the edge of the stage, next to Matt. “All of it? Is he bald now?”

Matt shook his head. “A bit of it is left. He didn't go full Britney. I'm worried about him, Miles. For you and me a shave is just a haircut. But you know him. Stuff always means something with him. Especially now, with her around.”


“Who?” asked Miles, trying to catch up with everything Matt was telling him. Then his words sank in. A queasy feeling overcame him. Her. “What her?”

“Man, don't you guys talk anymore? Her? The one who won't leave his side? Louise?” Matt shook his head. “Weird one, that. I can't warm up to her. She's all artsy and French.”

Miles couldn't believe it. “He's got a new one already?” Suddenly he felt awful. He'd spent so much time being busy with his own life that, lately, he'd neglected to look out for Alex. It wasn't that he didn't want to look out for him. But he felt responsible for his break-up. The long-lingering aftershocks of their fateful kiss had yet to die down, apparently. If he hadn't kissed Alex, his friend would still be with Taylor. And while, initially, he'd been wary of her, she had been a good and steadying influence on his best friend. She'd anchored him. She'd allowed him room to breathe while offering a place to return to. “Doesn't she know he just split up with someone?”

“She knows. She's a groupie. She knows a lot about him. About all of us. Like I said, weird one.” Matt nudge Miles' shoulder. “There she is,” he said, motioning for the slim woman entering the side of the stage. Trailing not far behind was Alex.

The sight almost broke Miles' heart. Alex looked miserable. And Miles blamed most of that on that ridiculous haircut! Jumping up and hurrying over, he wrapped his friend up in a tight hug and squeezed him until he felt Alex pushing back. “How are you, babe?” Letting go just enough to be able to closely inspect him, Miles brushed a hand along the side of his head tenderly.

Alex flinched.

And now Miles' heart broke for real. He stared at Alex in shock. A decade of friendship, fights, tears, sorrow, joy, happiness, excitement, even a few wayward moments of unwelcome arousal, but never once had Alex flinched at Miles' touch. Words deserted him. And he saw in Alex's eyes that his friend understood precisely what was going on.

“Louise,” said Louise, introducing herself. She stepped between Miles and Alex, forcing them further apart. “So nice to finally meet you. Alexander has told me so much about you,” she let him know, holding out her hand for him to shake. “You mean a lot to him, obviously.”

He was too perplexed by Alex's behavior to properly acknowledge her. He barely managed to shake her hand. “Miles,” said Miles. “Well, Alex hasn't mentioned you once, so...”

“Miles,” admonished Alex and Miles realized it was the first word he'd spoken to him.

His confused state, his wounded heart and Alex's offsetting behavior put Miles in a sour mood. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to grab Alex, push him into an empty room and demand some bloody answers. But he couldn't do it. He was pressed for time, they were surrounded by people who were all paying rapt attention to their tense stand-off and, worst of it all, he could tell from the look in Alex's eyes that his friend wanted to be anywhere but in an empty room with him.

So he settled for a deep, loud sigh, hoping the sound would express all of his emotions at once and with more effect than any words could. Then he turned around, grabbed his water bottle and hopped off the stage. “Find me when you're ready.” He didn't bother addressing Alex. It was clear for whom that message was intended. Then he headed for the exit.

“Fucking shit, Miles,” Alex shot as he stormed into Miles' dressing room after the gig. The Monkeys had finished half an hour ago, the rest of Miles' band had long left the building and, thank God, thought Miles, as he watched his friend slam the door shut, Louise was not with him!

That was the good news. The bad news was that his mood had yet to rise to calmer levels. If anything, the fact that Alex appeared to be mad at him, made it sink even lower. “Fucking what, Al?” He didn't get up from the couch, just leaned back, surly, daring him to take offense.

Alex took a few steadying breaths, stayed silent, and leaned back against the door.

Miles eyed him expectingly. “Well? Would you like to explain any of it?”

“Explain what?”

“Your fucking haircut, for a start! Or the fact that you have a groupie as a girlfriend! And when you're done with that and have warmed up, let's get to the good stuff 'cause I'd really fucking like to know why you flinched when I touched you! That one hurt, Alex.”

Alex closed his eyes, letting his head roll back. “You know, there are times when I really don't like the way my name sounds when you say it.” He opened his eyes again, met Miles'. “Two people in the world can ruin my day just by saying my name a certain way. My mum, obviously. And you. When I hear you say it like that, that's when I know I screwed up real good and a simple apology won't fix it.” He walked over to the couch and sat down. Not next to Miles. On the far end of it.

It was another dagger through Miles' heart. “I would settle for an explanation.”

“My hair,” began Alex, playing around with some spare guitar strings on the coffee table in front of him, “it annoyed me. So I got rid of it. It'll grow back.” A pause. “I won't discuss Louise with you. We never judged each other for our girlfriends. Let's not start now. Accept her or not, I don't care. But she'll be around for a while.”

“You flinched, Alex!” Really, it was the only thing he really wanted an explanation for. He didn't give a fig about the hair, and even less about the girl.

And it was the one thing Alex didn't explain. “I didn't mean to. And that's the truth, if ever there was one.”

For a while they sat in silence. “Last time we spoke, we spoke for none more than five minutes,” pointed Miles out. His words were interlaced with equal parts bewilderment and sadness. “Before that, we spoke not much longer. When we meet, there are always people around us. We don't hang out alone anymore.” His eyes searched Alex's. He waited for his friend to meet his gaze. He didn't blame Alex for any of it. It was just as much his own fault. After the kiss they had allowed things to get awkward. But in retrospect, there were moments long before their lips met, when he should have stopped and paid more attention. “Is this what the end of a relationship feels like? Have I steered us on this course? Or were we headed here long before Paris?”

Alex spoke in a quiet, solemn manner. “You mean, are all relationships destined for an ending?”

“Think about it, Al. Did we really believe we were bulletproof?”

“Are you genuinely asking for my opinion, or are you breaking up with me? It seems to me you've made up your mind already and consider us no longer redeemable,” he said accusingly. “Why now?”

“Because you fucking flinched!” Bursted Miles.

“I cannot explain it to you, Miles! Why are you bloody stuck on that part? So we've reached a rough spot in our friendship. Don't all friendships experience that at some point?”

“A rough spot in our friendship was you accusing me of having feelings for Alexa! This isn't a rough spot, Alex! I'm stuck on the flinching because the look in your eyes told me my touch disgusted you and you won't tell me why. I don't think I'll ever forget that expression.” The lack of empathy or regret on Alex's face made it unbearable for Miles to look at him any longer. “I don't know how to be your friend at the moment,” he admitted, deeply troubled, “because I'm not sure you want me to be your friend at the moment.”

Alex stood up abruptly, turned away from Miles. “One minute of interaction today and that's enough for you to make that kind of statement? You're a bloody coward for saying that!” He stormed out of the room the same way he'd stormed into it – by slamming the door shut.

Miles got up, walked over to the minibar in the room and grabbed a few small bottles of Vodka. One he drowned in one gulp. The next one he looked at, in a mixture of vile disgust and fierce anger – pretty much how he felt about himself at the moment – and he threw the bottle against the wall in a moment of furious ire, watching as the broken glass and the liquor met in a mess on the floor. The remaining bottles he took with him to the couch. “Fucked up ending for a fucked up day,” he said into the empty space.

[ittookthelightforever]

C’est Horrifique - part 3

Hi

Ok, so I said three parts but I fell in love with this story and it’s getting an extra part. I should be posting part 4 by the end of this week. (Hopefully...)

Also, I would just like to make clear, everything set out in this is fruit of my overactive imagination and, just to make sure, there is no type of non-con or dubious consent. Only vampire stuff tinted by the fact that I did grow up in the Twilight era. Oh and there’s a little smut in this one... :)

Love, Lina

(Part 1) -- (Part 2)

Source

“There are rules?” Camille nodded as she extracted a small book from her purse, “You will find them all in here. But the two most important ones, which you should always remember, are you can’t tell anyone about your transformation before they have been vetted by the Society and if you bite someone, you must kill them. You musn’t turn any person without strict orders from the Society, under penalty of extinction.”

Alex looked down at the book in his hands, all the new information flowing through his brain making him feel overwhelmed, “I don’t want to kill people.” Camille took his hand in hers, now her skin temperature felt normal to him, “You won’t have to, Alex. We are here to help you.” They are interrupted by his phone ringing, Alex picked it up from his side and saw that it was Miles, “What do I tell ‘im? Miles... And Matt and Jameh and Nick… And me parents? What the fook do I tell ‘em?”

“Yeh were ‘sposed to look after ‘im, Jameh!” Matt barked at Jamie as the three of them looked for Alex all over the backstage area, while the rest of the crew packed up their gear, they couldn’t risk anyone but them finding Alex in case he was in a compromising position. “I were, but then Nick were telling me summat and I… Wait! He said he were going out for a smoke!” With that the three of them raced towards the back door, which they knew led to the area behind the venue where Alex liked to smoke.

Matt pushed the door open, but halted at the sight he found, causing Jamie and Nick to bump onto his back, “Bloodeh ‘ell!” The three of them managed to step out into the open space where Alex was crouched holding your unconscious body, “Oh Al, what did yeh do?” Alex looked up to his friends, “What the fook does it look like?”  Nick bent over to side and puked, “Ew, gross mate.” Jamie gagged, but helped Nick sit down. Matt started pacing around, fingers pulling at his hair, “I-Is s-she… Dead?”

“No… Not yet, at least. Maffhew, call Camille, tell ‘er I am comin’ for ‘er ass. Jameh, can yeh get summat to wrap ‘er wiv and maybeh sum water for Mal, please?” The blond nodded and ran back inside, while Nick sat back against the brick wall with his head between his knees and Matt called Camille, “Matthew? Is everything okay with Alex?” He scoffed, “‘Course not, this is all yehr fault. Alex snapped! Now yeh gotta fix this mess.” Matt could hear her shouting orders already behind the phone, “Matthew, I am sending a team to clean up, but I need to talk to Alex now, ok?”

Alex had heard the entire conversation, so he’d propped you against chest and held you tight with one arm while he held out his other one so Matt could hand him the phone, “What the fook do I do now, Camille?” He was furious with Camille, never in the past two years had he snapped and attacked a human and now he had done it at one of his concerts. Worse, to one of his fans. “Is she still alive, Alex?” He could feel your pulse where his skin touched your, it was faint but it was there.

“Yes, I… I don’t know what came over meh. I were fine, I drank the blood I ‘ad left before the gig, but when I saw ‘er I just snapped. And when I drank… Camille, there was something wrong, because it was the best fing I’ve tasted since I turned. And, and somehow I knew when to stop, to stop before I… Before I killed ‘er.” Alex could hear the click-clack of Camille’s heels through the phone, “Alex, you know what your have to do now. You must abide by the rules.”

“I know the fooking rules, Camille. Send me a bloodeh car ‘round back to take us to the ‘otel and meet us there.” Alex could sense she was about to object, “Now Camille!” The two of them had grown to have a good enough relationship, but Camille had learnt the hard way not to cross Alex. She stuttered on the other side, “I-It’s done, should be there in 5 minutes.”

Right that second Jamie walked out of the venue, “There are sum people cleaning yehr stuff up in there, Al. Here yeh go…” The guitarist handed him a big blanket, “See yeh there, Camille” Alex hung up and took the blanket from his friend, “Fanks, Jameh.” Alex wrapped the blanket around you and kept you close to him as he got up, “Is Nick feeling bettehr?” The bassist nodded and got up, “We are goin’, back to the ‘otel. The team’s fixing any mess left.”

A black van stopped next to the fence circling the venue and a man walked out of the car, “Mr Turner?” Alex turned, careful not to jostle you too much, and nodded to the man who got to work at opening the gate and ushering everyone into the car. Alex ended up occupying a whole row, cradling your body close to his, “Tha’ know, I never thought tha’ bloke I sat next to in pre-k would become a fooking vampire and I’d be ‘elping ‘im cover up a murder. Takes me back to when yeh tol’ us”

“Is everyfing alreyht, Al?” Matt was fidgeting in his seat. Alex had gathered all his boys in his living room to break out the news, with the help of Camille, “Are yeh sick? Are yeh quitting music? Are yeh dyin’?” Alex kneeled in front of Miles and took his hands in his, squeezing them tenderly, “No, Mi, I‘m not dying or quitting music.” He stroked his cheek before getting up again. “Technically, ‘m alreadeh dead.” That sentence set off a number of reactions from each of his friends, from Nick going very pale and hyperventilating to Jamie getting a laughter attack.

“Not the best way to go about things, Alex.” All four men jumped at the sound of Camille’s voice from behind them, “And yeh doin’ tha’ was much bettehr, Camille? Yehr the one tha’ actualleh looks like a vampire.” In the few weeks since he’d been turned Alex had grown more and more accustomed to his new existence and actually blossomed into a new found confidence, “Is this a joke? Are yeh prankin’ us?” Alex shook his head and put on his best straight face.

“No Matthew, I wish I were. This here is Camille, my liaison with the Society. The… Vampire Society that is… Fook.” Alex used his heightened abilities to catch Nick before he fell to the floor, giving the other men a demonstration of his new capacities, “Fooking ‘ell” Jamie scrambled away from Alex only to bump into Camille, “Everything is alright, Mr Cook. Your friend is the same as always, only… Immortal and very strong. Think of this as a diet change, only instead of vegan, he went full-on human blood.”

Needless to say that wasn’t the way to go, Jamie narrowly missed Camille’s black stilettos when he chucked his guts out on Alex’s rug, “Yehr doing a great job, Camille. What’s next you show ‘em me coffin?” After they manage to calm everyone down and wake Nick up, Alex and Camille explain the conditions of Alex’s new existence. “I don’t wan’ to stop making music or living this life, and I don’t wan’ to… Murder anybodeh. I know it’s too much teh ask, but I need yehr ‘elp.” The four man face their long time friend for a moment before nodding in agreement.

The van took them into hotel through the service entrance and they managed to quietly go to their floor which had already been sectioned off, even before the incident happened, as part of Alex’s precautions, which made it easier for everyone to move about with bloodied clothes and for Alex to get your body from the car to his room.

With you laid on his bed, Alex towered over you, “You either tell me how to turn ‘er or I am gonna kill yeh!” Camille stood on your other side, chipping away at her blood red nail varnish, “Alex, I can’t. The Society--” He growled, nearly lunging for her, “Fook the bloodeh Society! I bet they’d be happeh to kno’ this happened because yeh couldn’t do me fooking delivery right. Now, teach. Me. How. To. Turn ‘er!”

Camille shrieked and ran back to the dresser where she’d left her purse and picked up a small vial, “Here.” Alex rolled the vial around on his palm, noticing it was fairly simple and had no details, save for a small inscription of the Society’s logo. “You give her a couple drops of that and she should wake up. She needs to be awake for this.” He listens carefully to Camille’s instructions, trying to recall how all of this had happened to him.

“I am going to leave you alone for this part. Is that okay?” Alex nods somberly, watching as Camille walked away and out of the room. He then turned back to you, carefully sitting next to you, “I’m sorreh you ‘ave to go through this, all ‘cause of meh.” Alex gently brushed your hair away from your face, caressing your cheek softly. Picking up the vial, he carefully put a few drops in between your lips.

You take a sudden deep breath and open your eyes, “Alex…” A small smile settled on your lips, making Alex’s non-beating heart ache, “Oh darling, I’m so sorreh about this.” You shook your head and tried to raise your hand to touch his face, he takes it and held it tenderly. Alex bowed down to press a soft kiss to your lips, he moved slowly down to your chin, your neck, spending an extra moment right on your pulse point and inhaling your scent deeply.

Alex made his way down until he reached the top of your blouse, where he helped you to sit up and remove it. He was pleasantly surprised to find you were wearing only a thin silk bralette that barely concealed your breasts, “So beautiful…” He trailed the planes of your skin and whispered sweet compliments as he kissed every one of your pulse points, once he had undressed you completely and taken off his shirt, he went back and kissed you deeply.

Using his extra sharp teeth Alex teared into the skin of his forearm, “Here love.” Bringing it to your parted lips and he made sure that you drank as much as Camille said was necessary. You feel a surge of energy coursing through you, your senses heightened to a degree you can feel each and every nerve ending in your body that touched Alex’s, and although you didn’t feel heat or his breathing, you could sense a pulsing draw to him.

“Are yeh okay love?” You notices his pupils are blown and his eyes looked bloodshot, you cradled his face in your hands and pulled his face towards your, harder than you’d expected due to your new strength, “Sorry.” He shook his head, just glad to know it was working, “It’s okeh, love.” You smiled and kissed him, talking Alex a little by surprise and you had almost stopped when he finally kissed you back.

Camille had mentioned you might be drawn to him after the process had started, but Alex hadn’t expected to be just as enthralled by you, “Love, I fink it’s best you get sum rest.” He pulled away but you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, “But… I need you.” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, a trick that had worked more than once, and Alex didn’t have enough self-control to say no. He buried a hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a deep kiss.

Soon you and Alex had lost whatever was left of your clothing, his waist straddled over yours and his strong arms holding his weight up, “Are yeh sure?” You nodded and kissed him again until you felt his calloused finger ghosting over your center and gasped, “Yeh like tha’? Do yeh want it like this?” And he pressed his fingers to your clit quickly before dipping them inside, “Hmmm, so nice and wet. Is tha’ for meh, love?” You could only nod because your mouth was too busy moaning. “I can’t wait to be inside that delicious cunt of yerhs.” Alex whispered right into your ear and you nearly came undone right then and there.

Once he got you all nice and wet, Alex pulled out his fingers, making a show of sucking your arousal from them, “Delightful.” The bastard certainly had a nerve and to show him you were done with the games you took his dick in your hand, teasingly pumping it before guiding it to your entrance, “Will you fuck me now, Alex?” He grinned and drove his dick all the way inside of you, giving you some time to adjust to his size before moving.

Despite both of yours enhanced strengths at the moment, you and Alex took your time having sex, almost as if you’d done it a million times a long time before. His body was aware of your needs, his fingers finding the points that brought you pleasure that not even you were aware of. Meanwhile your touch seemed to lead him somewhere completely unexplored, Alex felt every inch inside of you and your warmth enveloped him into a place of pure bliss.

As you reached your orgasms, you feel asleep in Alex arms and he waited for a long time, guarding your sleep, before he dressed back up and headed outside where he knew Camille was waiting, “What the hell happened in there?