#there was firefighters and some emergency vehicles near too

[playmiya]

chapter four: +1000 aura for [name] previous ⎯ masterlist ⎯ next

Rain begins pouring, finally, pitter-pattering down onto the windshields of vehicles that form a barrier around the rest of the world and the mall. The scent of soot hangs in the air, and you can finally feel the heat that seemed to surround you at all times die down.

"Fucking finally," sighs the Commissioner, wiping his bifocals with a cloth as he frowns. He's an old man, smile lines and wrinkles dotting his face, and he's been caught completely off-guard today evening.

You've been caught off-guard too, somehow wrangled into this mess and seriously questioning your life decisions. The entire point of being a vigilante was to stay anonymous, work in the shadows and not make a big deal out of whatever you were doing. You weren't blessed with superpowers that guaranteed a future in hero work. You were literally just a student. Now, hoodie and balaclava feel like a thin veil between your identity and the world as you hear the flashes of cameras over sirens.

A policeman had dragged you with him as you were about to make your exit from the scene, satisfied with the way you'd handled the many ruffians who'd emerged from the woodwork to take advantage of the chaos from the fire and ransacking local businesses. Unable to protest, you'd focused your attention on aiding near the mall, content with observing Spider-Man in action from a respectable distance.

This was too close, according to you. The commissioner had summoned both of you to hear your accounts of the fire, suspecting some foul play in the works, and this explains why you're inches away from the hero, who's in familiar, animated conversation with the senior official.

You use this time to observe him for research purposes. Upon closer inspection, he's a lot more built than the pictures do justice to describe him as. His arms are crossed over the vast expanse of his beefy chest, and you don't miss the way his biceps strain against the material of his suit as he continues talking, murmuring something about a past foe. Your eyes drop shamelessly lower, and you can't help but thank the rain for dampening the air, since his suit sticks to his torso, defining abs you're can call nothing short of washboard.

Shut up, you're not here to ogle him!, a voice in your head reminds, and you have to avert your eyes and pretend to be deeply interested in the way firefighters were raising their ladder to the third floor of the mall. You hear someone clear their throat, and snap back to the conversation at hand.

"Spider-Man just pointed out that this seems to be the work of the same criminal who set a warehouse alight last week in Minato, Vigilante," the Commissioner coughs, and you blanche at the name, a testament to how you've officially come on the radar of the administration. Jeez, couldn't you get something cool, like Supreme Leader of Counterviolence or something? Vigilante sounded so... mundane.

"Um, is that so? It could be, now that he mentioned it," you reply. You'd followed that incident live, but you don't want to let on anything about yourself that could possibly give a shred of your identity away; even something as routine as following crime in the city.

"I think it would be best if the two of you worked together on this. Spider-Man, as you know, already covers much of the city, but I'm sure an extra hand wouldn't hurt. We're already spread thin as is, and recovery efforts are going to take some time," he says, tone tired as he massages his temples. If it weren't for how overworked he sounded, you'd be surprised at his presumptuousness to enlist you in crime-fighting measures at the very first meeting.

"Vigilante, we've picked you up on our surveillance many times earlier. I know that working in the public eye is not your forte, but perhaps you can use it to your advantage to find out more about this perp," the Comissioner adds, reading your mind. You almost choke on air.

"That makes sense," you affirm quietly, still processing the implications of what he's said. "Good," the man smiles. "The quicker we solve this, the safer Shinjuku is. We'll be in touch," he says, dismissing you. Now that he's done talking, the flash of cameras become even more enunciated, and you're frozen, unsure of whether turning around will cause more of a scene or making a run for it will.

"First time with the paps?", Spider-Man asks, peering down at you. His stupid mask gives nothing away, but you're sure he notices the way your eyes widen under your balaclava as you nod. "I'm in no mood to deal with them today, either," he sighs. You look at the swarm of people eagerly poised with TV cameras and mics in their hand and squirm.

Pondering for a minute, Spider-Man offers you a gloved hand.

"Wanna get outta here?"

taglist: @diorzs @egoistars @southernfrogprincesd @dazqa @milesmoralesluvs @she-lovesmyheartshapedsunglasses @dailyakira @giocriedpower @punkhazardlaw @loverlunaire @milesmoralesluvs @thiisisntlovely @kuroppiii

[try-set-me-on-fire]

‘this is my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner etc.’ for soft fic prompts?

Send me soft fic prompts! Read the rest here!

Heather would say she's not having a great day. Sure, her and Tracy hadn't been on the most stable ground lately, but coming home from the San Francisco office to a two page (both sides!) handwritten letter full of incredibly beautiful prose that more or less boiled down to it’s not you, it’s me was still a shock. And, you know, maybe she had been spending too much time crunching for work, but she’d been trying to make senior art director for years and when she’d finally got the promotion she wanted to make sure the studio didn’t regret it. The studio who, 15 minutes after the whole ‘getting dumped, epistolary style’, called to tell her the promotion had been unpromotioned. Two steps, unpromotioned, actually, seeing as they were “taking the project in a new direction” and “felt she would be better suited to a support role rather than leadership.” And, you know, Heather thinks of herself as a relatively laid back person, she’s chill, she’s calm and collected, but after four straight months of 6 day work weeks pulling overtime almost every night she thought she deserved a face to face goddamn explanation for all of this, so she had climbed right back into the subaru she’d driven all night in and took off towards Burbank.

She’d made it three exits past her apartment when some asshole in a truck too big for him to control had swerved into her.

At least someone's already called 911, judging by the emergency vehicles pulling up, and this was a rental car paid for with company dime, so she doesn't even have to stress about it being crumpled up like a tin can. There's a tap on the window frame (the glass is gone, she hadn't even noticed) and she startles, peering out at the platonic ideal of a hot guy she might have described to friends as her "type" when she was sixteen and still trying to be straight. Ruffled dark hair, warm eyes, a kind look on his face. She can't see his arms under his firefighter coat, but she bets they're jacked.

"Hi," the apparition says. "My name's Eddie Diaz. Are you in any pain?"

"Uh," Heather says, trying to take stock. "Mostly shaky, I think."

He nods, shining a flashlight in her eyes. "Can you wiggle your fingers for me? How 'bout your toes?"

"Eyes and ears and mouth and nose," she sing songs as she does so, and Eddie Diaz has the good grace to laugh.

"Alright, you're a little scraped up but I don't think you have a concussion. Can you tell me your name, the date, and where we are?"

"Heather Pantry, July 23rd, the 5 somewhere near Atwater."

"Pantry?" Eddie quirks an eyebrow as he examines the car around her.

"Hand to god," she says, used to the double take. "From the proud Pantry line of middle of nowhere Massachusetts."

"Well, good to meet you Ms. Pantry. I have to go get-" Eddie straightens up and waved someone over. "Honey, can you stay with her? I'm gonna grab the jaws and some bandages."

Eddie steps away and a new man crouches in his place. He's blondish, has a red birthmark splotched above his eye, and is grinning cheerfully. "Hey, we're gonna get you out of here in no time."

"I bet you got shit from other kids about your name too, huh?" She smiles at him in commiseration, and then confusion as he looks at her questioningly. "Oh, you didn't hear- I'm Heather Pantry. And you're Honey, right? Food names."

His face stays puzzled for a second before he laughs. "Ah, no." He jabs a thumb in the direction Eddie walked. "I'm married to that guy." He says it proudly, and his grin gets somehow more cheerful.

"Oh, shit, sorry," she says as he flaps an understanding hand.

"Don't worry about it, just don't let our colleagues know he used a pet name at work or we'll never hear the end of it. My name's Buck Diaz." He holds out a hand.

She mimes a zipper over her mouth as she shakes it. Multi tasking! Take that, potential concussion! Her eye catches on his name tag as he pulls away and she frowns. Aw no, concussion. "Why does that say…"

Buck looks down at the letters. "Ah, right. Well, I took Eddie's name when I got married, but my- everyone calls me Buck, has for ages, but it's a nickname from my old last name, and I didn't want to be Evan Diaz with no tie to that, so I changed my first name too, because Evan just isn't really my name anymore. But," he gestures down at the name tag, and then over his shoulder at the back of his jacket. "The names on our turnouts are one of the ways we find each other in low visibility, and how we might be initially identified if something, uh, goes wrong, and everyone rejected my perfectly good idea of being labeled 'Diaz 1' and 'Diaz 2' so… I was born Evan Buckley, my legal name is Buck Diaz, my work name is Buckley, sometimes people call me Buckaroo, and Chimney says they should just start sending me out to explain all that as the new concussion protocol."

"Chimney?"

"You'd fit right in around here, Pantry. You looking for a career change?"

"Hah," she says. "The LAFD looking to recruit failed art directors who can't maintain a good relationship with the best girl they've ever known?"

Buck grimaces in sympathy. "You've had a rough day."

"I've certainly had better." She looks at her shit thrown all about the car, feeling a little pathetic, and then back at Buck. If something goes wrong… "Is it hard, working together? Do you- I mean, either of you could get hurt at any time. It's gotta be hard knowing that, or- seeing that. Being there."

Buck's smile turns a little rueful, and he looks back towards the firetruck for a moment. "Yeah… we've had our fair share of close calls." He laughs, though there's not much humor in it, and starts holding up fingers. "Eddie's been crushed in a collapsed well 40 feet underground, and he got shot standing two feet in front of me, and there was the whole thing with the freeway collapse - which is how we got together, actually - and I've been crushed under a firetruck, was on the pier with our kid when the tsunami hit, and I got struck by lightning." He does a little jazz hand. "I died for three minutes."

"And seventeen seconds," comes Eddie's quiet voice. He's standing there with the supplies, looking down at Buck, something too steps more sad than a frown on his face.

Buck looks up at him, eyes intense, smile small. "And seventeen seconds," he corrects, and then looks back at Heather with both eyebrows up. "I don't recommend it!"

"I'll do my best to not get deceased."

“But I think…” Buck looks thoughtful as he stands to let his husband press gauze to cuts Heather didn’t know she had. “I’d rather be here, than not. I want to be by Eddie’s side, even and especially when things are hard, and to, uh,” he laughs a private laugh, bumps his elbow with Eddie’s. “To have his back, like I know he has mine.” Together, they work the jaws into the door and finally wrench it open with a terrible metallic screech. “And anyway, some of that stuff happened while I wasn’t even at work, so bad things can happen at any time. I want to… know I had the chance to do something about it, when they do.”

Both of the men reach in to help Heather, moving around each other so easily, so familiar. Her eyes sting a little, and she could blame it on the scrapes but she’s thinking of Tracy singing while she does the dishes. She sniffs a little as Buck holds her elbow. “Wasn’t… the tsunami years before the freeway collapse? You guys had a son already?”

They make eye contact over her head (jesus, they’re tall, is that a firefighter requirement?) and Eddie laughs first but Buck really cracks up.

“We may have done things a little out of order,” Eddie says, loud enough to be heard over Buck’s guffaws. His eyes are crinkled up. “Let’s get you to the ambulance, Ms. Pantry.”

She’s handed over to other paramedics, who go through a more thorough checklist than Eddie’s field triage. She’s paying attention to the questions, she is, but the ambulance doors are still open and she sees Eddie in the shade of the fire truck look around before pulling Buck close, a hand gentle on his cheek. He kisses him, and they’re pretty far away but she thinks the small smile on his face is probably visible from Saturn.

The doors close, and she’s carted off towards Cedars-Sinai where as soon as she’s cleared to leave she’ll find the gift shop and buy a notepad, a get well soon card, a coloring book- anything she can write on. She has a letter to send.

[tatooinetourism]

my brain is making it difficult to focus, so chapter 4 of 'Dashes In Our Stars" will not be out tonight. instead, i give you this; an except from a one-shot i started a couple of months ago and have been meaning to go back to.

see under the cut for the except from 'Fire Bug'. contains some explicit words (but not much.)

It’s a cold night, which is a blessing after a long day travelling between a stuffy office and a suspected crime scene; the buildings roof had completely given out during the fire the night before, meaning there was little shade from the hot summer sun while he worked. Now however, the air was crisp and smelt of rain; it was still a while  off, so while it wasn’t exactly the weather he would like to have…he can appreciate what life gives him. 

As well as being cool, the night is also quiet and more importantly, it’s dark. The hillside near the old farmhouse - long since abandoned, given that the ownership of the land itself is in question - is covered in a clump of trees, which he is able to sit amongst and watch the blaze down below, which lights up the night sky with oranges, reds and yellows - he wishes he was close enough to hear the crackles and pops of the fire as it spreads, consuming everything it can find…but that gives more opportunities for him to be seen, which only gives more chances for his…personal activities to be discovered. 

He sits in the grass and watches the fire, waiting impatiently for the distant sound of sirens and the tell-tale red and blue flashes as the emergency service vehicles arrive. Given how rural the area is, it’s no surprise it takes so long for a passerby to notice the blaze and call it in. Finally, after a little over two hours, he hears the sirens; it’s not long before the truck is pulling up near the house, followed close behind by a second one. 

Fuck, he can just about hear the roar of the fire from where he is; there’s a part of him - one that he has to keep under strict control - that wants, desperately, to feel the heat of a fire as it ravages a building. He knows, realistically, that nothing good could come of him getting too close to one of his fires; the last thing he needs is to be seen near the blaze, or somehow get caught in the structure…unable to get himself to safety before…

He shakes his head, not wanting to get lost in his thoughts; he has time for that once he gets home. He leans forward, watching through his binoculars; his boys are here, he can’t waste time lost in his head when his boys are here, in their full gear while they battle to get the blaze under control. 

“Fuck…” He mutters, shifting where he’s sitting to try and relieve some of the pressure from his cock pressing against the stiff material of his slacks; he hadn’t changed after work, which he knew he’d regret. It’s nothing they can’t handle, more of a nuisance than anything…it doesn’t mean it’s easy by any any however. He watches with his binoculars, upset with himself for his continuous refusal to photograph or video any of his fires; the less evidence of the events, the better, especially when it comes to his potential involvement. In his opinion, the fire is one of the least impressive he’s done; he’s definitely had larger ones. Ones that lasted longer against the efforts of the firefighters. He sighs, disappointed, when it’s clear that the blaze is well under control only minutes after the work has begun; he tucks his binoculars back into their case and clips it shut before he begins the long walk back to his car, which is parked well aways from the building in question. 

He only just makes it home before he gets the call about a scene that needs investigation, and apologies for the late call but he is the closest person to the location - only just barely, he’d been careful about that. After a quick shower and a change into fresh clothes, he makes himself a coffee in his thermos and heads out to the all too familiar location, the drive to it still fresh in his mind from earlier. 

[i-have-a-type]

How I would have loved for things to go for 6x18 :

- That the first emergency on the freeway involved Kameron and Connor instead of the girl and his mom's bestfriend. That the person trapped in the ambulance with Chimney and Hen was Kameron (Connor being in the helicopter or safe in the portion of the freeway that didn't collapsed).

- That the truck that did the collapse was a bus full of children going to a basket-ball game with the boy who was in the earthquake in season 2 as one of their coach.

- That Bobby ended falling on top or near the bus and not slidding down. That the earthquake kid was the one to help Bobby who is injured. Following Bobby's instructions to help everyone because it's chaos and they're trapped under the bridge. While waiting for rescue they talk about the fact that Bobby saved earthquake kid when he was younger so now it's his turn to help him.

- That the slidding down was Eddie, falling all the way and getting trapped inside the container or a car.

- That Buck knows Eddie is alive but don't know where he is, has no idea where is Bobby. He goes to help Hen, then check on Kameron and Chim. Chim is still impaled so Buck gets Kameron out first. We have a moment between Hen and Chim, where Hen try to help Chim but she can't because she's concussed and Buck tells her to go, that he will go get Chim.

- In the mean time, Athena is on scene and helping people. Searching for survivors. She finds Eddie trapped and goes towards him, trying to reach for him.

- While Hen is safe, the vehicles under the ambulance start to fold and fall, Chim end up dangling down and Buck go help him.

- Eddie ends up even more trapped than before while Athena had to step back to not end trapped to.

- Bobby, the earthquake kid and all the kids are still trapped too, grasping for air after this second mini-collapse.

- Once Buck got Chim to the paramedics, Hen beside him, Athena join them to tell them that Eddie is now further out of reach. He's still on the radio, but still no signs of Bobby and the bus.

- Hen starts to puke and can't stand so she tells Buck to be the interim Captain. He turns around and find Ravi and some firefighters waiting for his instructions. He dispatch them while Maddie is sending more help.

- Athena stays with Hen, helping with the injured and coordinating with Maddie.

- At some point, they find where is the bus and Bobby, Buck being able to talk with him. While they dig to get them all out, it's provoking some damages to where is Eddie. If he continues with the digging he will save Bobby and the kids, but might kill Eddie in the process. He needs to find a way.

- Eddie tells him to help the kids, of course. Eddie tells him to take good care of Christopher. Buck tells him that he will not abandon him, nor Bobby and the kids.

- Now able to talk with everyone, on radio for Athena, Eddie, Chim (not willing to leave the scene), Hen, Maddie and on person with Bobby and Ravi, Buck find a way to help everyone.

- First, he's on scene with Bobby when he finally get to him. Athena arrives and both of them tell Buck to go help Eddie, that they're fine now.

- Eddie's radio is not working anymore, he's starting to loose hope. It takes a little more time, but Buck finally finds him.

- 1. for Buddie truthers, that's where they understand their feelings for each other, or at least one of them if we want some angst, with tears and Buck saying that he'll never abandon Eddie, ever.

2. for the non-buddie truthers, they have a beautiful emotional moment where we see their friendship/partnership at their best.

- Chim and Hen refusing to leave the scene without all the 118, they end up all together, bruised, injured and alive on the scene, looking at each other, relieved.

Of course they all end up at the hospital. Buck going to see Kameron who gave birth, meeting the baby. And then going from rooms to rooms, having a lot of emotional moments between him and all the 118. Then some couples/families moments at the hospital or their home. Buck ending up on the couch with Eddie and Christopher (buddie or not).

TADA !

It's a first try, might need some changes or more details but it's the first version that came into my mind.

[ryoki-ph]

so i just had the fucking strongest storm i’ve ever seen happen today. it lasted for like 30 minutes with loud thunder for around an hour happening before that and then it just went away and didn’t come back again. adelaide is fucked dude

also it put out the power since like 4 pm and they said it would be back by nine but it is 10 pm right now and. well there certainly isn’t any power. hope it doesn’t corrupt the little ms paint drawings of vargskeletor joel i was doing on my computer they were super cute :^((

[charming-charlie]

Washed Away pt. 2

Title // Washed Away pt. 2

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // Implied mentions of drowning, anxiety, and fear of dying.

Summary // Who knew hanging out with Buck and Christopher for a day would lead to a life or death situation?

Word Count // 1.7k

Prompt // Hi! Can i request a fic where you were with Buck & Christopher when the tsunami hit? They could be dating or crushing on each other. If nothing comes to mind, then it’s completely fine to ignore this request! Have a nice day!’

Author’s Note // This is Part 2 of the Washed Away series. || Part 1 || Part 3

Tagged List // @aprildecker-blog @coffeewithoutcaffeine​ @daddysfavoritesexkitten​ // Drop a note if you want to join the tagged list!

The enormous tidal wave was barreling to land. You could only watch in horror. Your legs refused to move. For a second, you thought for sure that the wave wasn’t going to hit you. It was an over exaggeration or something. It was one of those things that looked big from far way but small when it got close, right?

Unfortunately, you couldn’t be more wrong.

Buck grabbed Christopher and tossed the little boy over his shoulder, abandoning his crutches and the large brown bear he won at the water gun game. With his free hand, Buck grabbed yours and the two of you sprinted fast and hard down the wooden boardwalk.

Buck was yelling at other people to run, move out of the way, find shelter. Your voice refused to say anything. You couldn’t think of anything.

‘Incoming flood let’s go!” someone shouted. Was it Buck? Was it a police officer? You couldn’t make heads or tails of what was happening. Your hand gripped Buck’s tightly, refusing to let go for any reason as the two of you tried to seek out higher ground. Christopher was pulling the two of you behind, which wasn’t his fault, but you were running out of time.

Buck found an abandoned game in the center of the pier where people were running pass called Baseball Toss. It was essentially an open wooden box, reminding you of a small boxing ring. It had tall walls which might work for now. You couldn’t be sure.

Buck set Christopher inside the game behind the wall and turned back to the giant wave that was now blocking out the sun and inching closer to land by the second. He was leaning against you, his breath heavy and ragged, his eyes wide with fear and worry. You clung to him for your own safety, but also to let Buck know that you were there with him, and together you two will face whatever was coming.

The water broke through, crashing against the pier and exploding between buildings and windows, taking up whatever space it could find. Buck’s hand held yours even tighter as he turned to look at you.

“Get in!” he said quickly. He helped you over the wooden wall of Baseball Toss and you cowered down next to Christopher. Buck jumped in after you just as the water reached your little shelter, splashing and blasting over the three of you.

You closed your eyes and reached out to Buck, who accepted your hand within seconds. His other arm was blocking Christopher, trying to keep the boy as safe as possible. Despite the raging water above you, the world seemed quiet and still. You didn’t dare open your eyes for any reason and you refused to let go of Buck.

It didn’t work.

The water was powerful and was able to break through the wooden barrier, crashing into you, Buck, and Christopher. Buck’s hand disappeared from yours, and you were sloshed, rattled, tossed, and spun in every direction as the tsunami rolled in. You felt like an out of control ragdoll with only a few threads keeping you together. You scrambled and fought against the current, trying to reach the surface.

Was there a surface? Was there a break in the waves?

Your breath was knocked out as you were thrown about in the water and you struggled to breathe. Every time you tried, salty seawater was pulled in. You were drowning.

You swam somewhere. You couldn’t see under the rough current and the water moving fast but you were able to find something, what was it? A telephone pole? Whatever it was, it was tall enough to hang onto and climb. Using your last few precious breaths, you did just that.

You climbed and climbed until every single limb was begging for a break, aching with hot and sore muscles all over.

The water was rolling below you. You looked around in sheer panic, hoping to see someone, anyone, that was able to survive. Where was Buck? Actually wait… where was Christopher?

That sinking feeling of fear, anxiety, dread, horror, distress, and every other combination, pulled through you as you tried not to think the worst. Thankfully, it disappeared. You heard Buck shouting over the roaring waves, looking for Christopher. He must be nearby if you heard him.

You turned around and there he was, clinging to a string of lights.

“Chris! Just stay there, I’m coming!” Buck shouted hard.

You tried to call him, but he didn’t see you. His back was turned to you and he couldn’t hear you against the current. Buck let go of the string of lights and started traveling at a wildly insane speed further inland, and you mentally cursed yourself. You knew what you had to do but you didn’t want to do it.

You mustered up as much courage as you could find, which wasn’t much to begin with, and you jumped into the water. The current was strong and pulling you in different directions as you rode the wave behind Buck. Swimming hard, you saw Christopher clinging to a pole, much like you were. And Buck was on his way to him.

Come on, Buck.

And…

He missed.

The current was too strong and pulled Buck, who was reaching out for Christopher but the distance between them was growing.

“Stay there!” Buck said as he fought like hell to swim against the current, to fight and reach for the boy. It was no use. He found a good spot full of items floating on the water and he clung to something, you couldn’t tell what, just as Christopher slipped from the pole and disappeared under the water.

“Christopher!” you screamed with whatever you had left. Your throat burned and ached, your muscles begging for a break, but you didn’t stop.

Buck heard you. He was looking for Christopher in the water, but he glanced just a second to see if he could find you. Taking a deep breath, the ex-firefighter dove into the water, which was something you would not have done given the circumstances, and you swirled and paddled as close to the area as you can.

Buck emerged, out of breath, holding Christopher in his arms and hugging the boy tightly. You wanted to cry from relief and for some reason, the waves seemed calmer now. You weren’t struggling to swim so hard and so fast, and you took a break, letting the current guide you. You were following Buck and Christopher and you didn’t dare blink for fear of losing sight of them.

Buck found a firetruck in the water, mostly submerged. He tossed Christopher on the roof of the vehicle and turned his gaze to find you.

“Y/N!” he shouted. Relief flashed in his eyes.

He spotted you easily enough and held onto the firetruck with one hand while reaching out for yours. Learning the mistake, he made with Christopher earlier, he was able to adjust his angle and grab your hand, pulling you toward the truck. Your back smashed into the headlight and you gasped in pain, but it passed from all the adrenaline. You put a foot on the driver side window and climbed up onto the truck, with Buck following behind.

The two of you collapsed against the metal roof of the truck, gasping and heaving for breaths. The water was rushing around you but calmer. The biggest part of the wave was done and all that was left was the flood.

“Definitely not the first date I imagined,” you said in between breaths for air. You sat up slightly and winced in pain. There was going to be a bruise on your back from the headlight, but you couldn’t worry about that right now.

Buck turned to look at you and he let out a small laugh.

“I’m full of surprises,” he said, and you couldn’t help but grin.

Your body needed rest and you laid back down, your breath slowly catching itself. Buck was next to you, glancing over at Christopher to see if the boy was okay. He seemed to be and when Buck wasn’t worried about him anymore, he turned his head to face you.

Your hand slowly crept off to the side, getting closer to Buck’s. Your pinky brushed over the back of his hand, mimicking what he had done earlier on the bench, before all of this happened. You were expecting Buck to just link his pinky through yours, but he grabbed your hand. His fingers intertwined with yours and he held on with a squeeze.

You felt your heart flutter again, just like before. Remember when you were questioning if you had a crush on Evan Buckley or not? Turns out, you do.

He was looking at you with his beautiful, light eyes. He was smiling. If it weren’t for the natural disaster that was occurring around you, this would be a nice moment. But reality has a funny way of interjecting and Buck slowly sat up and crawled his way over to Christopher. His hand slipped out of yours and for a moment, you felt cold and empty. Damn you, Evan Buckley.

It was probably best to sit up anyway. Should something happen, you and Buck needed to be able to see around you and not above you. You sat too, ignoring the throbbing pain in your back.

“You good, Chris?” Buck asked the little boy.

“Yep. I took surfing lessons,” Christopher said with a laugh.

“Well, maybe you can teach me,” Buck said, and he looked over at you, “and maybe Nurse Y/N too.”

With a free hand, the ex-firefighter reached out to you and you grabbed it. He pulled you in and you sat next to him, your arm twisted around his and tangling your fingers with his own. Hello, muscles.

Wait, wait, wait, now is not the time for this, get it together Y/N.

Buck let out a sigh, probably from the relief that both you and Christopher were okay. Water still lapped around the firetruck, but it was nowhere near like earlier. It didn’t seem to be rising but it didn’t seem to be receding either.

For now, you were safe. And so were Christopher and Buck. That was all you could ask for. The worst was over.

Right?

[imagine-the-free-boys]

May I request headcanons for the Style 5 falling in love with a female firefighter/paramedic who saved their life?

Haru

In Haru's case, the scenario wasn't as dramatic. He had been in a car accident, which looked a lot worse than how it felt. He was walking by when a car crashed to the side of the road, he was lightly pushed by a falling structure. The driver came rushing out of the vehicle with a leg injury, to see if Haru was alright.

A bystander called an ambulance, when they arrived, the paramedics treated the wounded.

Haru only had superficial wounds, and when he was about to be treated, the paramedic asked him to sit farther away from the accident site. Just when they pulled him far enough, the crashed car exploded.

It was pretty shocking, a whole team arrived to take control of the situation. Apparently the gas tank was damaged in the crash and if the paramedic didn't think of pulling Haru farther away, he could have been affected by the explotion.

He didn't know if it was the mix of adrenaline or the very evident attractiveness of the person in front of him, or even the way their shocked eyes relaxed and continued effectively treating him. The expertise with which they moved their hands to wrap him up in bandages had him hypnotized.

Haru would be too shy to ask them for their number, but he'd probably go looking for them at the emergency room next time, afterall he did know their name, as they gave it to him when introducing themselves. He'd probably bring a gift to show he is grateful.

Makoto

Okay, so remember that one Ending where Makoto was a firefighter? Yes? Perfect. Let's go with that.

So, imagine Makoto is actually being trained because he chose to work as a firefighter and then there's this drill, like the ones they do so their new trainees get the irl experience so they literally set a building on fire and they have to go in and work in teams so they can extinguish it.

That's happening, but then imagine Makoto getting stuck under a heavy piece of wood that fell near him. He's starting to panic, because he is big and strong, but the position he is in makes it difficult for him to free himself from the thing that's keeping him stuck. Everything looks dark, he can't see how or where to move.

He might or might not (👀) start getting dizzy because of the smoke, his oxygen tank is running out and his breathing filter is not working as it was, when he sees a shadow near him. He passes out for a few seconds to wake up again to someone pulling him out of the building.

When he finally is able to see one of his teammates, they free him of his equipment and encourages him to take deep breaths, while they inspect his oxygen tank. They notice it was not working properly and it had a leak. If it wasn't for his teammate, he wouldn't have been able to make it out alive.

Makoto is very thankful, and while he already had a soft spot for this paticular teammate, it only grew bigger and deeper. He'd be very attentive to them and what they need. Maybe even ask them out to grab something to it, you know, he owes it to them (or he just wanted to go out on a date, either way, he's very fond of them)

Rei

Poor Rei would be in an ambulance because he almost drowned.

You can't tell me you saw this request and didnt just know Rei's would be about drowning.

Anyway, the ambulance is here, he feels really embarrassed because he is fine, he feels fine. But the paramedic asks him to allow them to check on him to make sure.

The fact that they took their time to make sure he was okay, safe and sound, even if it was just a "minor incident" was what got him. Such a responsible person! And very knowledgeable too!!

I dont really think he will do much to reach out to them because he is still very embarrassed. But he will for sure develop a crush and be all jumpy whenever they do some physical exploration on him.

Nagisa

THIS MAN RIGHT HERE SET HIS KITCHEN ON FIRE OKAY?

Nagisa's mind is often running a thousand miles an hour, so it's common that sometimes he just forgets things. Sometimes these things can go from missing tasks like taking out the trash, but other times it can be borderline deadly.

As it happened today, baby boy was trying to bake some muffins. Baby boy forgot to take his oven mitt out of the oven.

When he saw that it would take sometime for his muffins to be ready, he decided to take a quick shower.

Can you imagine how bad of a jumpscare he got when the fire alarm set off? It was bad, he slipped on his bathtub and hurt his back. He could barely wrap himself in a robe when he started smelling smoke.

Good thing his family had their alarm linked to the fire department emergency number, because it was getting bad, and he was home alone.

The fire was blocking his door, and it was matter of minutes until the door itself catched some fire. He heard noises outside, when suddenly someone kicked his door down.

Everything went smoothly after that, the fire was off, Nagisa was fine, and the damage to his kitchen was minimal compared to what could have happened. The cool firefighter who kicked his door down was talking to him, telling him about fire safety.

Now, Nagisa is not really a shy person, but imagine him surrounded by big muscular people while he is in robe outside his home, with back pain and wet hair. He's blushy all the way down to his neck when that one firefighter is assessing his condition. But they are attentive to him and he is full of admiration of their bravery and strenght.

Even after weeks of the incidents, he keeps stopping by the firefighter department to leave some muffins for his now favorite firefighter.

Rin

The competition season was close and the pool were he used to practice was filled with people, so he decided to take a little escapade to the ocean to train his endurance.

It's been a few days now that he feels his throat itchy and an annoying headache that refuses to go away even after attempting to treat it with painkillers. But if you think this is what will take to stop him from keeping up with his practice right before his important competitions, you would be wrong.

So, despite all the signs his body threw at him to not go too hard on his trainning, he started it.

And, as you would expect, it didnt go all according to keikaku, because at some point he lost consciousness.

Honestly, he had no idea what happened after he unwillingly closed his eyes and I can not explain it to you, but when Rin came back to his senses, there was this beauty in an uniform treating him.

It took him a while for it to down on him that he was actually in an ambulance, and not in some weird department in heaven where an angel in uniform was waking him up.

He is alright, a little spooked, and very ill with the flu. So when the paramedic reprimands him, Rin has very much no idea where to hide. He is embarrassed. Something terrible could have happened from his stubornness.

Although, when the paramedics told him that he was out of danger, he decided to take their advice and relax a little bit. Chatting here and there with that one paramedic who caught his eye.

But yeah, no, tsundere rin wouldnt dare to really pursue something else with after his embarrassment, unless they seemed interested 👀

Which they do 👀

----

That was fun to write <3 thank you for the request, sweetie!! :D I hope you enjoyed it!!

[potionsprefect]

In The Storm

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: An E.M.T ride along takes a terrifying turn.

Rating: T

Category: fluff, angst

The dark skies of Boston stretched for miles, the heavy thunder echoing throughout the hospital. Every so often there was a flash of lightning and the rain thrashed against the windows.

Victoria was waiting by reception to be picked up so she could do her paramedic ride along. It was necessary for doctors to take an E.M.T ride along for experience in case they were called out to an accident.

Victoria ran her hands through her double braids sighing as she checked the time on her phone. The rain wasn’t supposed to ease at any point during the day so Victoria’s shift would be done in the pouring rain.

“Still in the building?” A sarcastic voice said behind her. Victoria turned around and saw Ethan chuckling.

“Are you that desperate to get rid of me for the day?” Victoria laughed.

“I’ll be able to maintain my lunch schedule on time today.” Ethan pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her.

“Don’t you like it when I have lunch with you?” Victoria looked up at him.

“I like the company. But I also like to finish my lunch on time.” Ethan smiled.

“Well I’m sorry I’m such a distraction.” Victoria pretended to pull a sad face.

Ethan, knowing she was pretending, cupped her face with his hands and leaned down to kiss her. Victoria melted into the kiss, smiling as she pulled away resting her forehead against his.

“Try not to get into too much trouble.” Ethan said.

“Trouble and I are complete opposites.” Victoria laughed.

“I’ll be the judge of that when you’re back here in one piece. Have a good day and I’ll see you later.” Ethan gave Victoria one final kiss before heading back into the main part of the hospital.

Victoria smiled as she watched him walk off. She didn’t think anyone could make her heart (and fanny because she’d been watching too much of Love Island UK) flutter as much as Ethan did. Being around him made her so happy.

“Victoria!” A voice called out from the entrance. Victoria looked up and saw Tamara, Rafael’s E.M.T colleague wave to her as she walked over.

“Hi Tamara!” Victoria grinned giving her a hug. The two women had gotten to know each other over the years, having met through various paramedics runs.

“Are you excited for your paramedic ride along?”

“Yeah but I’m also nervous. The weather isn’t helping either.” Victoria laughed a little.

“You’ll be fine. Just imagine every patient is in a hospital bed and you’ll feel like you’ve never left.” Tamara nudged her in encouragement as they headed out the hospital.

They both ran to the ambulance getting absolutely drenched as they opened the doors and sat inside.

“Jesus! I’ve never known Boston weather like this!” Victoria exclaimed as she shivered.

“Welcome to the East.” Tamara joked.

“I am from the East! I can’t remember the last time New York had a storm.”

“It’ll probably travel to New York. Then they can be covered in a wet blanket.” Tamara winked as the ambulance pulled away from the hospital.

The ambulance drove round the city, this was protocol in case they passed an emergency and were there on hand to help out. That way, lives would be saved much quicker. Just as they turned the corner towards the Common, the radio buzzed.

All available emergency vehicles to respond to Northeastern university, there has been a road traffic accident outside the university campus.

Tamara turned on the sirens and pushed her foot further on the pedal. “Here we go. The adrenaline is about to kick in.”

— — — — —

The doctors and nurses at Edenbrook were moving as fast as they could as they tried to clear beds, get the trauma tags sorted and find all the spare equipment they had. A road accident meant all hands on deck.

The patients were rolling in one by one, Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore were the nearest treatment facilities and both hospitals were expecting a high volume of patients.

Ethan looked at the scene around him as the interns were treating the green and yellow tagged victims. He had heard on the radio that a patient in arrest was on his way in. The doors then flew open.

Ethan saw Victoria doing chest compressions as the monitor beeped loudly. She was completely drenched from the rain. Ethan rushed over to take over chest compressions as they wheeled the patient into the trauma room. There was no time to hang around as she hurried out the room and out the hospital ready to treat the next flux of patients.

Ethan and the team around him worked on the patient before calling it. He took off his protective gear and walked out the room, watching Edenbrook work it’s magic.

Doctors and nurses were moving between patients as fast as they could, all tending to the victims of the accident. Ethan set to work, moving fluently between patients, tagging and treating.

It must’ve been at least an hour before Ethan had a moment to himself, he retreated to his office where there was peace and quiet and he could gather his thoughts.

Ethan made a coffee from his coffee machine and sat down at his desk. He looked at the photos on his desk. One of them was a photo of himself and Victoria, the other a sole photo of just her. Ethan smiled as he picked up the latter photo and ran his thumb across it.

He was so proud of her when she announced she had been called up to do a paramedic ride along. He knew how much she had wanted to experience the life of an E.M.T. Ethan had joked that she should’ve become an E.M.T so she can experience the adrenaline more often.

Ethan drank his coffee and pulled out his phone, sending a text message to Victoria. He knew she probably wouldn’t read it but she would have a nice message to come back to later on.

Little did he know, she was right in the middle of the action across town.

— — — — —

The sound of thunder was deafening and the rain was falling from the sky like bullets.

Victoria and Tamara raced back to the scene to help other victims. They got out of the E.M.T and ran towards the scene.

“Are there anymore trapped?” Tamara yelled to her supervisor.

“There’s two in the car near the entrance to the uni! But there’s a power line that is threatening to fall so we can’t get to them yet!” The supervisor shouted.

“How long do you reckon?” Victoria said.

“It could be a while. We need to tend to some other patients.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Just sit tight. We’ve got other rescue vehicles dealing with the patients needing treatment.”

Victoria and Tamara retreated back into their vehicle.

“We can’t just sit here surely. We need to go help.” Victoria sighed.

“It’s too dangerous Victoria. We’re just meant to treat not rescue.” Tamara replied.

“But they could be seriously injured!”

“And so could we if we go and help them. The experts will get them out and then we’ll treat them. It’s the only way.”

Victoria sighed in defeat. She knew it would be dangerous to go and help. There were emergency workers with much more experience than her who had helped those trapped before. Victoria was only a doctor, not a firefighter.

But sitting around doing nothing made Victoria feel useless. People needed their help. And Victoria was never one to just sit around.

Not hesitating any further, she opened the ambulance door.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t just sit around.”

“Victoria you’re mad. If you end up hurt we’ll both be in trouble.”

“Well we have to at least try. And I’ve never given up on anyone and I’m certainly not going to today.” Victoria jumped out the vehicle. Tamara rolled her eyes but followed her.

The two women raced towards the scene again, as they saw a car near the power line.

“Hello?! Can anyone hear me?” Victoria shouted into the vehicle.

“Yes! Over here!” A voice cried out. Victoria cautiously moved closer and saw a young woman lying in her seat, blood covering her head.

“It’s okay. We’re going to get you out.” Tamara reassured the woman.

“You need to help my daughter! Take my daughter first!” The woman winced in pain.

Victoria looked in the back seat and saw a young girl lying in her car seat unconscious.

“I’ll go help her. What’s her name?” Victoria asked.

“Amy. She’s only seven.”

Victoria leaned out of the car and moved round the side so she could get better access. She learned inside the left window.

“Amy? Amy can you hear me?” Victoria called out to the little girl who didn’t respond.

“Is she going to be ok?” The mum asked.

“She’s going to be fine ma’am but I need you to let me help you too. Can you tell me your name?” Tamara said.

Tamara talked to the woman, learning her name was Lucie and that her head and chest hurt. Victoria focused on the young girl pressing two fingers to her neck, breathing a sigh of relief that she was alive.

“I’m going to call for back up. We need to remove some pieces of the car before we can get them out.” Tamara reached for her radio and relayed a message.

Victoria reassessed the little girls injures, feeling blood from the back of her seat. She didn’t look like she had any other injures.

“I need a a paediatric backboard now!” Victoria called.

“They’re on their way. Just hang on.” Tamara yelled.

It wasn’t long before help arrived, firefighters and the paramedic supervisor arrived with the necessary equipment.

“I told you guys to wait!” The supervisor shouted.

“Dan we have a woman with internal bleeding and her seven year old daughter with a head injury! If we waited, we might’ve lost them both!” Tamara shouted.

“That doesn’t matter!”

“Can you guys stop arguing and get to work. We have two critically ill patients here!” Victoria shouted.

The two others stopped and nodded and moved out the way to let the firefighters through. Victoria stepped back shivering in the rain that was still heavy and the wind had picked up rapidly.

“How long do you reckon it will take them?” Victoria asked Tamara.

“They work as quick as lighting. They’ll get to them in no time.” Tamara replied.

“Speaking of lightning.” Victoria looked out over the water and saw flecks of lightning in the distance.

“Looks like the storms not over yet.” Tamara sighed.

“Hold it.” A voice yelled. The two women looked back towards the damaged car where the firefighters were looking underneath.

“What is it?”

“There’s someone underneath. We need another backboard now!”

Victoria raced towards the ambulance grabbing another board before racing over to the scene again.

“Got it!” Victoria placed the backboard underneath the vehicle. Other paramedics helped take the person away whilst Victoria and Tamara went back to focus on Lucie and Amy.

“Take the girl first. We’ve got room for both of them. Make sure she gets warm.” Tamara said.

Victoria nodded as she gently undid the seat belt and slid the backboard in with the help of others as she got Amy out the car. Victoria assessed her once more just to make sure she hadn’t missed any injuries before hurrying over to the ambulance.

“Watch out! IT’S GONNA GO! GET BACK!” A voice yelled.

Victoria turned round and it was like everything was moving in slow motion. The power lines above them was falling and everyone was sprinting away to avoid getting hit. Before Victoria could react, she was thrown to the ground by someone, their body shielding her from harm.

She saw a lot of sparks before everything went black.

— — — — —

“Make sure Mrs Cassell has her morphine injection before moving her to a room.”

“Will do Doctor Ramsey.”

Ethan sighed as the nurse headed down the hallway, chart in hand and he sat down in one of the free chairs.

“Doctor Ramsey?” A voice said. Ethan looked up and saw Doctor Trinh.

“Are you okay Doctor Trinh?”

“Yeah I just... wondered if you’d heard from Victoria at all. With not many patients coming in I guessed she might be available and near her phone.”

“I haven’t heard from her. But don’t worry, I’m sure she’s ok. She’s tough remember that.” Ethan smiled at the small resident.

Sienna smiled back before nodding and walking off. Ethan knew she was always on edge when Victoria went off to do something. It might’ve been months since the Senator attack but she wasn’t the only one still nervous when she didn’t see Victoria. Ethan hated her being out of his sight but he knew he couldn’t hold her back forever.

As he was filling out patient charts, Ethan checked his phone every few minutes, his conversation with Sienna still on his mind. Despite reassuring others, he would never fully be able to relax until he saw her in the flesh.

As Ethan got up and made his way to his office, he ran into Ines.

“Doctor Ramsey thank god!”

“What is it?”

“A power line fell close to one of the ambulances outside the traffic site, we’re getting three out of the seven injured.” Ines explained.

“Do we know who?” Ethan asked panic rising in his chest.

“All I know it’s that it’s rescue 74.” Ines explains running off down the hall.

Ethan’s heart sank.

Rescue 74 was Victoria’s ambulance.

— — — — —

“BP and heart rate are stable.”

“Let’s order a head CT.”

Victoria recognised that voice. It was one that she didn’t hear often but for some reason, it sounded oddly familiar.

“She looks like she was very lucky.”

“I agree. Let’s clean these scrapes. If the head CT is clear, I see no reason to keep her here, she can be discharged.”

“Yes Doctor Carrick.”

Doctor Carrick? What was she doing at Mass Kenmore? Victoria opened her eyes.

“Seems like trouble seems to find you often Doctor Clarke.” Tobias chuckled as he looked down at her.

“What am I doing here?” Victoria asked groggily.

“You have the pleasure of being treated by the Kenmore doctors.” Tobias said. When Victoria tried to sit up he gently pushed her back down. “Woah hey no sudden movements, we’re ordering you a head CT to rule out anything.”

“And if there’s nothing there?”

“Then you’re free to go. Ethan will be worried about you.”

“When isn’t he.”

Tobias laughed at that. “He cares about you a lot. And so do many others. You bounce back from things very quickly. You’re probably on your eighth life by now.”

Soon, some doctors came in and cleaned the blood off of her and wheeled her to her CT scan. She had taken plenty of patients there before but it was different when you were the one having the scan. Victoria suddenly felt the nerves her patients must’ve felt when they had theirs done.

“Very good Doctor Clarke. You kept very still.” Tobias’ voice echoed through the room.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“No this is just how I am. Although sarcastic is my middle name as Ethan has probably already told you.”

Victoria rolled her eyes as she was taken back to a room. Tobias had her results in hand.

“Well I don’t see any problems. Maybe the youngest member of Edenbrook’s diagnostics team has spotted something I haven’t.” Tobias held up the CT scan for Victoria to see.

“It would appear she agrees with you. Does that mean I can go?”

“Indeed.” Tobias replied.

“Fabulous. And it’s such a shame as I’ve enjoyed yours and Kenmore’s company so much.” Victoria rolled her eyes sarcastically.

“Was that sarcasm?” Tobias raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you know? Sarcasm is my middle name.” Victoria winked at him.

Tobias laughed back as he filled in Victoria’s chart and signed her discharge paper. “Is Ethan coming to get you?”

“He probably doesn’t even know I’m here, let alone what happened.”

“I can take you to Edenbrook if you want.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Tobias smiled. “Maybe you can give me a few tips on how to diagnose and treat quicker.

“Ha ha very funny.” Victoria swung her legs off the side of the bed.

It wasn’t long before they were both in Tobias’ car driving to Edenbrook. Tobias kept looking over at Victoria as she stared out the window.

“So what were you doing in an E.M.T uniform? Thinking of a career change?”

“Hoping to take my spot on the team?”

“God no. I just didn’t think the diagnostics team would let go of their youngest recruit.”

“I was doing the traditional paramedic ride along. Although it wasn’t supposed to end up with me being the patient.” Victoria laughed a little.

“Well you do have a habit of getting into trouble.” Tobias said

“Am I that obvious?”

“Just a bit”. Tobias laughed.

Victoria laughed. “It was just... so thrilling and exciting. Just like being in the hospital.

“I did it once not that long ago, even considered a career change.”

“How comes you didn’t?” Victoria asked.

“I guess I would’ve missed the solving. Once you hand it to the doctors they take it from there. I would’ve missed the mystery.”

“Fair enough.”

They reached the entrance of Edenbrook and Victoria got out of the car.

“I can make my own way into the hospital. Thanks for the lift.” Victoria smiled.

“No problem Clarke, see you around.” Tobias smiled as he drove off down the road.

Victoria sighed as she stared up at the hospital, the events of today catching up on her. She walked into the hospital, each footstep heavier than the last.

“Have you called round the hospitals?”

“Yes she’s okay. She was taken to Mass Kenmore.”

“Well she’s not there anymore.” Bryce gestures to his friends.

“Victoria!” Sienna cried as she ran towards her and hugged her tightly.

“Woah Sienna I’m okay!” Victoria laughed a little.

“We’ve been so worried about you!”

“You don’t need to worry anymore I’m fine.”

“Christ Rookie you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Another voice said. Victoria turned to see Ethan heading towards her pulling her tightly against his chest.

“I’ve been known to make people worry often.” Victoria replied wrapping her arms around him.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.” Ethan took her hand and lead her out the hospital to his car. Victoria sighed happily as she felt the warmth of Ethan’s car sink into her skin.

“What happened to the others I was with? Is Tamara ok?”

“She’s fine. She was brought here and explained what happened. Looks like the power line missed you guys and only hit your ambulance.

“What about my patients? I had a seven year old girl to look after?! And there was someone trapped under the car!” Victoria sat up straight worried.

“Woah Vic calm down. Was her name Amy and her mum was called Lucie?” When Victoria nodded Ethan continued, “they were both brought here. The mum needed surgery but she’s going to be fine and so is her daughter. And the guy trapped under the car is fine too.”

“Thank god.” Victoria breathed a sigh of relief.

Ethan pulled his car into his apartments garage and led Victoria up to the elevator. When he got his keys into the door he made a beeline for the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to run you a bath.” Ethan replied.

“I see. Am I allowed to bring a special guest?” Victoria grinned.

“I think you can.”

Grinning, the couple stripped off their clothes as the bath filled up and got into it, both sighing happily. Victoria sat in front of Ethan and leaned back into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“So how was your day?” Ethan chuckled.

“Wild. But it was exhilarating and scary. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Well I’m glad you’re back in one piece. Just like I said so this morning.”

“I’ll always come back in one piece.” Victoria smiled.

They laid in the bath in silence, Ethan’s hands running up and down her sides as Victoria turns to lay her head and snuggle against his chest.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ethan broke the silence.

“I was just thinking about everything. Being an E.M.T is just as exhausting as being a doctor.”

“Not thinking of a career change are you?”

“You sound like Tobias.” Victoria chuckled.

“Tobias?” Ethan asked.

“He brought me back to Edenbrook once I was discharged from Mass Kenmore.”

“As long as that’s the only time you’re car sharing with him Rookie.” Ethan narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t worry. Tobias doesn’t have me in his bed most nights. Only you get that pleasure.”

Ethan laughed as he tightened his arms around her.

“Victoria?”

“Yes Ethan?”

“Promise me you’ll always come back to me.”

Victoria lifted her head to look at Ethan properly. She leant forward and pressed her lips to his softly before breaking away.

“I promise. Forever and always.”

— — — — —

Happy Open Heart Day everyone!

Hope you enjoy this! Let me know if you would like to be tagged

Tag list: @ohchoices @openheartfan @queencarb @genevievemd @iemcpbchoices @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @alina-yol-ramsey @stygianflood @malakemads-blog @gryffindordaughterofathena @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor @openheartfanfics

[bellakitse]

The Marriage Tamales

Answering a call, TK and 126 meet Carlota Reyes, Carlos' mother, and his three sisters. While there, TK learns some very important information about his and Carlos' relationship.

* “You made this pretty little gringo, our mother’s marriage tamales?” Lola looks at him amazed.

Valentina smirks at him, the only way the oldest can. “When’s the wedding?”

“Wedding?” Sofiá repeats, scoffing. “Where’s their kid? Obviously, he already married this white boy if he made him mama's marriage tamales."

Carlos gets the text from his older sister just as he’s leaving the station for the day; he lets out a groan before he reads it, remembering as he sees her name that he’s supposed to go to their mother’s house for dinner. His workday has been a long one, and it’s completely slipped his mind. Valentina was probably texting to know when he would be getting there, since his mother doesn’t like to serve unless all her four children are at the table on family night.

He opens his messages, ready to shoot a quick text that he’s on his way when he reads what exactly she’s sent him.

‘The fire department is here, Mami almost burned the house down, get here now.’

Carlos feels the blood in his body go to his toes as he rereads the text before letting out a curse. He rushes to get into his squad car, turning on the light bar and the sirens as he goes. He tries not to speed, the last thing he needs is another lecture from his mom about it, between the squad car and his Camero, his mother is always giving him the stink-eye, and lecturing him about being a speed demon who is giving her grey hairs with his driving.

Carlota Reyes knows how to turn on the mom guilt like a pro when she needs to.

He gets to the simple ranch house his mother moved them into when he was a teenager to find a fire truck, EMS, and his sisters’ vehicles all in front of it. He’s barely turned his car off before he’s already out the door. Seeing the badge on the truck, he spots the engine number and instantly realizes that it’s the recently rebuilt fire engine 126 that has been called to his mother’s house. He’s worked a few calls with the new crew in the last few months since the firehouse opened their doors again, he likes them, and Michelle who works with them as EMS Captain seems to have good things to say about them too.

He relaxes slightly now that he knows it’s them who answered the call, it also helps that the house seems to be fine except for the emergency vehicles gathered around, and a few EMTs by their rig. No one makes a move to stop him as he makes his way up the stone pathway to the front door. Be it because he’s still in uniform, or because his face says ‘get the fuck out of my way,’ he’s not sure.

“Mami?” he calls out as he walks into the house, the smell of smoke hitting him the second he’s through the door. “Valentina?” he shouts next as he enters the living room, stopping short at what he finds inside the family room.

His oldest sister Valentina is there alright, as are his other two sisters Sofía and Lola, and they aren’t alone. Members of the 126, Mateo, and Marjan are sitting on the couch with them, while Judd and Paul stand behind it, all drinking what looks to be horchata like it’s a party.

“What the hell?” he gets out, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“Hey, bro!” Lola speaks up first, flashing him a shit-eating grin as she raises a glass to him as a toast. Lola is the one he’s closest to age-wise, with her being only two years older than him, as opposed to Sofía, who is five years older or Valentina, who at 34 is eight years older. “Finally, you’re late.”

“Seriously, what the fuck,” he repeats himself, looking away from his troublemaking sister to the more responsible ones. “I get a text saying Mami almost burned the house down, and I come to find you guys drinking horchata with the 126?”

“And chicken empanadas,” Captain Strand adds in from where he’s sitting next to Valentina, a smile on his face as he bites into the empanada, letting out a joyful sound. He’s not surprised, his mom’s empanadas are delicious, but that’s beside the point.

“I’m going to ask one more time, and I expect an answer,” Carlos tells them all sternly, placing his hands on his gun belt. “What the fuck is happening here, and is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine, Carlitos, which is more than I can say for you if you curse in my house one more time, Nene.”

Carlos spins on his heel to find his mother over by the archway mimicking his pose by having her hands on her hips.

“Mami,” he exhales, he crosses the distance between them and pulls her small frame against his, holding her tight. He feels her chuckle softly as she rests her head on his chest, hugging him back. The top of her head barely grazes his chin, and he leans down to accommodate her. “Are you okay? Valentina said there was a fire.”

Carlota Reyes pulls back from the hug, throwing a glare over his shoulder, no doubt at his older sister. “Your sister is melodramatic, Tu sabes como es.”

“I’m sorry, did you or did you not start a fire in the kitchen?” Valentina asks the room at large, getting an echo of agreement from his other two sisters, though the 126 seem to be smarter by keeping their mouths shut when Carlota shoots them all another look.

“Mami?” he questions her, giving her his cop face in hopes that she’ll cave and tell him the truth. Rolling her eyes at him, she turns to the man beside her, and for the first time, Carlos notices who it is. He can feel his face go hot as he looks at him.

TK Strand.

He shouldn’t be surprised he’s here; he should have realized that TK would probably be responding to the call the moment he saw the 126 truck, he definitely should have anticipated it after seeing TK’s dad.

“Hey, TK,” he gets out, his face goes redder still at the way his voice cracks, but he can’t help it. He and TK have been messing around, keeping it strictly friends with benefits since his failed dinner attempt and then their darts date. They hang out; they’re friends, they have sex – really good, out of this world, mind-melting sex – and now TK is standing next to his mother, while he has to get through this without her figuring out all the dirty things he’s been doing with the guy she’s smiling up at so sweetly.

“Hey, Carlos,” TK smiles at him as he tries not to react too much. There is a way that TK sometimes looks at him, that makes Carlos forget that the guy is not his boyfriend, it always makes him want to press him into the nears wall and lick his way into that smile.

“TK, tell my Carlitos, that everything is fine,” Carlota nudges at TK with her elbow like they’re already best friends, Lord help him. “He’s always worrying so much. You’re going to get wrinkles, Bebé.”

TK grins at him with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that Carlos is sure is from the way his mom talks to him. It doesn’t matter that he’s 26 and a Police Officer. As the youngest of four, his mother and to an extent, his sisters have always babied the crap out of him. He’s learned to ignore it until people outside the family get a front-row seat to his embarrassment.

“The stove caught fire,” TK starts telling him, raising his hands to calm him down when Carlos makes a panicked sound. “It’s all good, we put it out and checked-out your mom and sisters,” he looks over at the couches where everyone is seated. “Everyone is fine, and there’s not much damage, though the stove will have to be replaced.”

“See, the handsome firefighter says everything is fine. You can stop worrying now, mijo,” Carlota says to him, turning back towards TK with a smile. “You’ve met my son before, TK?”

Carlos feels his skin heat up as TK looks over at him, a slow-building smile working its way to his face. “Yes, ma’am, Carlos and I know each other from work, he’s an excellent officer.”

“And handsome?” his mom questions hopefully, a sly grin on her face as she looks over at him like she knows she’s killing him with embarrassment and is okay with it.

TK lets out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners from his grin, he leans down closer to his mother to speak in a stage-whisper. “He certainly makes some of the calls we’ve been on, way prettier.”

Carlota lights up like she has won the lotto, and Carlos instantly understands what his mother is playing at.

Carlos groans loudly, earning himself a snort from more than one of his sisters. “Oh my god, this isn’t happening,” he says, turning away from TK and his mom to find his sisters, Captain Strand and the rest of the crew watching them with entertained looks on their faces, empanadas in hand.

“What?” his mom asks innocently like she doesn’t know what she’s doing.

Carlos ignores her as he takes a step back towards the couches and the food, if he’s going to be embarrassed in front of his siblings, the people he works with, and the guy he has a massive crush on; at the very least, he’s eating.

“She zeroed in on him the second she saw his eyes, kid,” Valentina tells him.

Carlos shakes his head, holding out a hand to Sofía, grateful when she passes him an empanada. “Of course she did, Mami likes green eyes.”

Valentina, Sofía, and Lola all nod in agreement, while everyone else in the room looks on curiously.

“Mom’s scoping him out for Carlos,” Lola explains because she’s a horrible, horrible sister who he is going to smother with a couch cushion. “Valentina and Sofía are married, and I’m a lost cause, so Mami is checking out if TK is available for Carlos.”

“I am not!” Carlota protests, which sets her and his sisters off, in between the snippets of conversation he learns that his mother latched on to TK since the second he walked through her door.

Turning his gaze towards the man in question, he finds TK has taken a few steps closer to him, looking at him with humor and a little shyness as his family really gets into it. The rest of the 126 looks on, riveted by the show, the Reyes women are entertaining if nothing else. Taking the plate of leftover empanadas, he passes it to TK, letting him take one.

Biting into it, TK lets out a moan that stops all conversations and makes Carlos’ pulse spike.

Jesus Christ, this man lives to wreak havoc on him.

“Oh my god, that’s delicious,” TK says happily, closing his eyes as he chews, missing the grin Carlota is sporting, pleased as punch by TK’s reaction. “No wonder you’re such a good cook, you got it from your mom.”

Carlos stares at TK and nowhere else, as the rest of the ones gathered stare holes into the both of them. TK looks back at him, and the little shit dares to smile at him like he hasn’t just unleashed mayhem with his words.

“Carlos has cooked for you?” Sofía asks, the glee in her voice proof that while she might be the quietest of them all, she still has an evil streak a mile long.

“Mmhmm,” TK says around another bite, raising his fingers to count off. “He’s made me fish, didn’t eat that time though, my fault, not his. He’s made me carbonara; that was pretty simple, but he was coming off a 16-hour shift, and it was still delicious. He also made me some tamales to die for,” TK continues, not realizing what he's done by mentioning them. Carlos cringes as his sisters look at him with unholy excitement. He turns to look over at his mom, shaking his head as he takes in the way she looks ready to cry, she’s so happy. 

“He said it was your recipe, ma’am,” TK tells his mom, flashing her a bright smile. “You taught him well. It’s the best food I have ever had, besides these empanadas, of course.”

His mom makes a squeak like noise, before slapping her hands over her mouth in what Carlos thinks is an attempt not to start squealing. As is, she looks to be vibrating with unbridled happiness.

“You made this pretty little gringo, our mother’s marriage tamales?” Lola looks at him amazed.

Valentina smirks at him, the only way the oldest can. “When’s the wedding?”

“Wedding?” Sofía repeats, scoffing. “Where’s their kid? Obviously, he already married this white boy if he made him mama's marriage tamales. You guys adopting or going with surrogacy?”

"Marriage tamales?" TK asks with a small confused smile on his face, while his sisters nod in his direction. 

"Mami taught all of us with the condition that we can only make them for someone truly special to us," Valentina tells him, as TK looks at him with wide eyes, his mouth parted in surprise. "I made them for my husband when I realized I loved him, Sofía, did the same with her husband."

"I have never made the tamales for anyone," Lola adds. "Cause like I said, a lost cause."

TK continues to look at him, shocked, and suddenly Carlos doesn't care that his family or TK’s crew is watching; all he cares about is that TK doesn't freak out, and as a result, Carlos loses him. "Tyler, I –" he starts only to stop when he hears choking happening next to Valentina.

Looking over, he finds Captain Strand staring at them. "He called you by your name."

TK snaps out of his daze and looks back at his dad, his face turning red. "Dad," TK hisses in warning, but Owen doesn't listen.

"He knows your first name, TK," Owen continues, making significant eyes at his son. "He knows it and just used it. Does he know what the K stands for too?"

TK doesn't answer, his face is a pretty shade of pink, and Owen turns his eyes to him, waiting for an answer. 

"Yes," Carlos starts, making TK’s gaze go back to him. "It's –"

TK takes two steps towards him, placing his hand over his mouth. "Don't you dare, Carlos Reyes," TK warns him gravely, but Carlos can't help but smile at how flustered TK looks. 

He tugs the hand off his face, grinning at him. "I didn't realize using your name was such a big deal," he teases him, smirking as TK gives him a scowl. "I feel special."

TK narrows his eyes at him in response. "Marriage tamales, Reyes."

Carlos loses his smirk, giving him a nod when TK raises an eyebrow at him. Fair enough. 

"So, you're dating?" Mateo asks, reminding them that the crew is still very much in the room watching this all go down like a telenovela. Marjan, Judd, and Paul all look on in interest with small smirks on all their faces.

"We're –" TK starts, looking around the room, then back at him. There is a vulnerable look in TK's pretty green eyes, and Carlos feels like an idiot. He has spent the last few weeks that they have been doing this, trying to keep it all light and easy, as not to spook TK. And while doing so, he hasn't been looking for a sign that maybe things have changed, that possibly TK might finally be ready for more.

"We're not, not dating," Carlos says for him, the words feeling really inadequate, but it's the best he can do with everyone around them right now.

They need to talk alone and give this a new definition, but for the first time, Carlos is hopeful that it will include the words relationship and together.

TK looks at him with a small smile, giving him a slight nod of his head, silently agreeing with him.

His mother, though, of course, isn't satisfied with the answer. "I'm sorry, but that is young people speak for what exactly?"

Carlos opens his mouth only for Lola to cut in.

"It means Carlitos has been hitting it with the gringo, but not putting a label on it, Mami," Lola informs her while smirking in his direction. "He's been doing a whole lot of sinning, but it also seems like he wants to bring this cutie into the family."

TK blushes again at his sister's words, while Carlos narrows his eyes at Lola who keeps looking at him completely pleased with herself.

"Lola, how's Leticia from the good market Mami likes?" Carlos questions, a victorious grin on his face as she loses her smile and glares at him. Valentina and Sofía let out amused 'oohs,' respectively.

"Lola?" Carlota questions, groaning when Lola gives her a hesitant smile. "If you break that girl's heart, her dad isn't going to sell me the good peppers anymore, and I’ll make you go across town to get me some from that fancy organic place that pisses you off,” she warns her.

The comment gets his sister, and his mother started again, his other two sisters joining the fray.

Captain Strand proving to be a good Captain who knows when to get his people out of the fire, begins signaling for them to leave. One by one, the firefighters each head for the front door, each thanking his mother for the food.

TK is the last to go, still looking at him and no one else. "We'll talk later?" he asks, his expression tentative, and Carlos can't let him leave like that. Ignoring his family, he leans down to give TK a quick kiss. He lets out a surprised sound when TK touches the back of his neck, holding him there for a moment to make the kiss last.

When they break apart, the room is completely silent, but Carlos can't hear anything but their breathing and his heart beating.

"I finish my shift in three hours," TK tells him quietly, and Carlos nods, understanding him.

"Come by after; I'll be home."

TK smiles at him before turning around; he lets out a nervous chuckle as he finds his sisters and his mother watching them. "It was nice meeting you all," TK starts, walking back towards them to get to the door. He stops in front of his mother, holding out his hand. "Ma'am it was a pleasure, thank you for the food."

Carlota smiles up at TK, taking his hand before pulling him in for a hug. TK lets out a surprised noise, whether it's from the unexpected strength his mother has, or the hug itself, Carlos isn't sure.

Letting him go, Carlota points a finger in TK's face. "I better see you again, guapo, soon."

TK looks at him, smiles, and then looks back at his mom. "I'll make sure it happens, ma'am."

 ֎֍֎

 Carlos is a mess of nervous energy as he paces back and forth in his apartment. TK texted him twenty minutes ago, asking if it was still okay for him to stop by, and now Carlos was waiting for him, every second that past putting him more on edge.

He has a feeling that the conversation they need to have is going to go his way. TK put down all the signals before he left his mom’s house, but that doesn’t stop him from being nervous. He wants this, wants TK so bad. More than he’s ever wanted anything, and knowing that there might actually be a chance he gets to have him completely sends his pulse racing.

The rest of his time at the house had been interesting. His sisters and his mother grilled him about TK to the point that he had to ask who was the cop, him, or them? They’re amazing interrogators and cracked him like an egg. In the end, he told them how he met TK, keeping some of the more salacious aspects of their relationship to himself for his mother’s sake, though given the leers his sisters gave him, they weren’t fooled at all.

Finally, though, all it boiled down to for his mom and his sisters is how he feels. His mom softly asking him, ‘Lo quieres, Carlitos?’ her warm hands holding his. Valentina playing with his hair, Lola with her head on his knee as she sat on the floor, while Sofía stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders, he couldn’t deny the truth.

The hug that came from all sides as he let out a quiet, ‘Si, mucho’ soothed him the only way his family’s love could.

He couldn’t hide it anymore. He cared about TK, given half the chance he could love him forever, and he really wants that chance.

The knock on the door pulls him away from his thoughts, taking a breath he crosses his living room to open it, finding a soft-looking TK, who gives him a nervous half-smile as he takes him in.

“Hey,” he says quietly, stepping to the side to let TK in, only TK doesn’t do that; instead, he steps into Carlos’ space, his face inches away from his.

He looks at him for a moment, his green eyes searching for something before he closes the distance between their lips. Carlos sighs into the kiss, bringing his arms around TK’s back as TK wraps his arms around Carlos’ neck. TK’s tongue runs over the stem of Carlos’ lips, and with a soft moan, Carlos opens his mouth. TK kisses him the way he does everything else, one hundred percent in, his tongue dances against his as he deepens the kiss, and all Carlos can do is hold him closer as he gets lost in the taste and feel of TK. He feels perfect in his arms, and it’s all he wants, to keep TK close to him. Jesus, he’s in love, without meaning to, he's fallen in love with this beautiful man, and he just wants to keep him.

Carlos has them pressed against his door when they break the kiss, both breathing heavy. TK keeps a firm grip on him like Carlos has any interest in stepping away from him. He looks at Carlos; his bright, colorful eyes have a soft hazy look to them.

“The marriage tamales, Carlos,” TK whispers, there’s almost a pleading quality to his tone. “What do they mean?”

Carlos inhales sharply, his heart pounding in his ears as TK looks at him earnestly. Licking his lips, he closes his eyes for a moment, and he feels the way TK runs his fingers at the top of his spine, almost petting him to calm him down. Opening his eyes, he looks back into TK’s, time to lay it all out on the table, and hope he’s not wrong in his optimism.

“It means,” he starts, his voice not much more than a whisper. “It means I want to be yours, and you be mine. It means that I want what I have wanted from the moment I met you.”

“What’s that?” TK whispers back, his eyes are large, and he looks at Carlos like he’s genuinely seeing him for the first time.

“A chance to love you the way you deserve,” he tells him, smiling at TK when he lets out a sharp breath. “If you let me, I’ll love you the way you should always be loved, Tyler. Entirely and with my whole heart.”

“What if I don’t deserve that?” TK asks, swallowing hard, his eyes glassy from unshed tears.

“I’ve never heard a bigger untruth in my life, you deserve everything good this world has to offer,” Carlos brings his hands to TK’s face, cradling his cheeks, his thumb under his eyes, ready to wipe away the tears. He hates that someone made TK feel like this. “I’m not saying I’m the best thing that will ever happen to you. All I can say is that I’ll treat you like you’re the best thing that’s happened to me, because you are, we aren’t even together, and you already are.”

TK closes his eyes, and more tears spill, but there is also a blinding smile on his face as he pulls Carlos even closer, resting his forehead against his. “When your sisters said that the tamales are only for people you guys think are special and love,” TK opens his eyes, and Carlos has never seen anything more beautiful than the man standing in front of him. “I wanted that. I want to be special to you, loved by you. I want it so bad, Carlos. I think I have wanted it from the start and it scared the fuck out of me, it still scares me.”

TK pauses, taking a breath. He lets his hand slide down from Carlos’ neck to his chest, letting it rest over Carlos’ heart, he smiles up at him when Carlos covers his hand with his, holding it to his chest. “But I want it more than it scares me, Carlos.”

“Yeah?” Carlos asks, his cheeks hurting from smiling so hard.

TK grins back at him, a soft laugh falling off his smile as he nods. “Yeah.”

 ֎֍֎

 Carlos pulls his car up in front of the house; the driveway is already full of vehicles. Turning his head to look at the house, he makes a vague note that the house could use a paint job. It’s not bad, but a touch-up is needed. Looking next to him, he takes in his passenger. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks for the third time since he started his car. TK flashes him a smile, it’s a little nervous but mostly amused at his expense. He shifts the package he has in his hands, drawing Carlos’ attention to it, it makes him smile.

“Yes, I’m sure,” TK answers firmly, the same way he has since Valentina called this morning to ask if he was with his white boy, and if he had finally declared his love for him, then their mom insisted he bring TK to a late lunch at the house since dinner didn’t happen the night before.

He’d had the phone on speaker when speaking with his sister, and before Carlos could weasel out of it, TK answered they would be there, asking if he should bring anything.

Valentina had gone silent for a second, before letting out a loud laugh, telling him that bringing his pretty self was more than enough.

“Okay,” Carlos takes a deep breath as TK flashes him another smile, his hand going for the door handle, but Carlos can’t help but stop him.

TK gives him a curious look; his brow pinched softly in the middle. “Carlos?”

“Just don’t break up with me now that we’re finally together because my family is crazy, please?” Carlos rushes out to say, only half-joking. He adores his family; he’d give his life for them. But they’re nuts, and last night was only a taste of it, now that they know he and TK are together, he can only imagine how extra crazy they’re going to be.

TK’s expression softens, he lets go of the handle, turning his body back towards Carlos. “Come here,” he commands softly, his hand reaching for Carlos’ cheek to pull him close. Carlos goes as he’s asked, sighing as TK presses his forehead against his.

“I’m not going to change my mind about this,” TK tells him quietly, his thumb drawing circles on his cheekbone. “I know I have been hot and cold with you.”

Carlos opens his mouth to argue only for TK to cover it with his hand.

“But,” TK emphasizes. “I know what I want now, okay?”

“And it’s me, right?” Carlos askes, needing to be sure, the smile TK gives him is bright and sweet.

Carlos’ eyes shut a second before TK’s lips touch his. The kiss TK gives him is gentle, a soft press of his lips, it’s after Carlos lets out an impatient sound that TK deepens it. Still, Carlos can feel TK’s smile against his lips as he licks into his mouth, the temperature in his car rising with every swipe. Carlos grabs at the back of TK’s head, pulling him closer, moaning as the action makes TK suck on his bottom lip.

“Tyler –,” he groans out as TK pulls his mouth off his, starting to kiss his way down his neck. “Baby, please.”

He’s not even sure what he’s begging for, and neither have time to find out when there is a sharp knock at the hood of his car, startling them enough to jump away from each other.

Looking over towards the passenger side window, Carlos lets out a deep mortifying groan as he takes in the smirking faces of his three sisters watching them.

“Heeey, bro,” Lola starts, her eyes flickering from him to TK and back again, her grin growing, while Sofía places a hand over her mouth, and Valentina shakes her head, rolling her eyes. Carlos looks at TK to find him blushing, his eyes a little hazy, and though he’s embarrassed himself, he’s also more than a little proud by the expression he’s put on his boyfriend’s face.

“So we can see you’re having a real good time out here,” Lola continues, and Carlos hears one of his other sisters snort. “But we’re kind of hungry, and you know Mami doesn’t serve unless we’re all sitting down, so if you could stop eating your gringo’s face, we’d appreciate it. Mami made carne asada and raja con papas.”

Sofía leans down to speak to them. “She said he’s too skinny, so she went dish heavy and made a lot,” she looks at TK, giving him a shrug. “You better be ready to roll out of here, she’s going to stuff you.”

TK laughs, giving his sisters a nod he opens the door to the car and steps out. Carlos follows, going around the car quickly to take his hand.

They start towards the house only for Valentina to hold up a hand to them. “What’s that?” she points at what TK is carrying in his other hand even though it’s obvious what it is.

TK looks down at his hand and grins when he looks back up at his sister. “You said I didn’t need to bring anything, but I was taught not to come into a house empty-handed,” he smirks when Lola and Sofía start laughing as he shows them the gift he got their mother.

“No mames!” Lola gets out through her chuckles, setting Sofía off again.

Valentina shakes her head again, also smiling. “He’s a smartass little shit,” she looks over at him with approval. “Good job with this one, Nene. Mom might box his ears, though.”

Carlos shrugs, he’s not worried, he saw the way his mother looked at TK the night before, and he knows he’s already won her over.

Walking into the house, they find Carlota Reyes standing in the foyer, a smile on her face, and the house smelling amazing. Leave it to his mom to have a kitchen fire the night before and now a little over twelve hours later have lunch ready.

“Mami,” he greets her, letting go of TK’s hand to hug her, leaning down so she can kiss his cheek.

“Carlitos,” she greets him back before looking over at TK with an even wider smile. “Welcome back, guapo.”

“I did say I would make it happen, ma’am,” TK grins at her. He holds up the small home extinguisher he’s been holding, presenting it to her, his lips twitching as Carlota narrows her eyes at him and his present. “Valentina said no flowers.”

Carlota stares at it for another few seconds; everything is quiet as she purses her lips. “Que suerte la mia,” she starts, rolling her eyes when the girls start laughing. “Another smart ass, not like I already have four.”

“That means she’s adopting you,” Lola tells TK as she throws an arm around his shoulder for a moment. Valentina and Sofía nod in agreement, grinning at TK as he smiles back at them. Carlota shakes her head at all of them, the corners of her mouth curling upward.

“Enough standing around, let's eat,” she orders them, waving towards the dining room. They all listen and start to make their way into the room.

Carlota stops TK with a touch of her hand on his arm, Carlos stops too, watching TK with his mother. “Thanks for the gift, mijo, I appreciate it.”

TK looks over at him and then back at his mother, a soft smile on his face as he covers her hand with his. “Gotta keep you safe, ma’am, you’re my boyfriend’s mother after all.”

Carlos watches as his mother lights up, and he feels something warm spread through him as he watches two people he loves get along. Behind him, he knows his sisters are also listening; he can feel their approval too.

“Call me Carlota, ojos bonitos, Carlota.”

[gotmeringinghellsbells]

New Guilt

Fandom: Promare

Characters: Gueira, Lio Fotia, Meis

A/N: It is so hard to write t-fic for Promare but I have so many random ideas that just are weird and won’t work but thank you @kwaiipootato for the aid in idea execution. But Kray tickling Lio for his power is an idea that’s crossed my mind, and Galo saving him. Anyway, moving on. This isn’t a Galo x Lio fanfic because I do enjoy that aspect of them but also I thought their quick growing friendship was one of the cutest things ever. 

Description: Time has passed and the city of Promepoils and much has changed. Lio Fotia encouraged his fellow burnish to start over and follow whatever passion they wane to pursue. From this, time has built up, along with unmeasurable guilt. Was he a traitor? Did he abandon his breatharian? Galo offers the idea of inviting the other two members of the Mad Burnish over to the shared apartment for a “guys night” to aid with this feeling.

_

Hands fell from the fist bump, blue meeting purple. Synced smiles emerged as a restored city welcomed all, legally, into it’s area. Discrimination and arogance became a more hushed ordeal as burnish aidded the work force, the modern civilian in reconstruction. Most throught nothing would com from this but a waste of time or just helping others. They knew they’d be unwelcomed, despite the new charge having nothing against the former flames. 

She prefered to be called Governor, allowing Galo to even call her “Gov”. She was sweet, she was stern; but she was open to the idea of allowing the burnish to build their own city if they truly wanted too. She understood why they would, and no amount of money or apologizing would ever be able to make up for such harsh and inhumane treatment. 

Kray was locked away in his shut down facility; his legacy being burnt as it was rewritten. The Freeze Force was dismissed and shut down, the Burning Rescue became normal fire fighters, a new police force with basic equipment erupted.  Anyone could work and live wherever they please so long as they followed basic work ethics and had the right requirements. This caused some issues, but not too many. 

During this time of regrowth though, Lio found himself spending more and more time with his blue haired, idotic savior. Wherever Lio went, Galo would fallow; and vice versa. Before Galo could rent an apartment again, he would follow Lio into sheltered areas of rubble and sleep near him. They worked together throughout the project and when the time came that the city was rebuilt, Galo was excited to ask the other to sign the lease with him. 

Lio was taken off guard by this; but what did he expect? When he talked to his former team members, Meis and Gueira were less surprised than the blonde expected them to be. “Well, are you going to sign it or wait until we build our city?”  “Our city”? The idea that he, himself had proposed hadn't even stuck around after everything that had happened. 

As the blonde’s head fell, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Purple met red before a smile came across Gueira’s face. “A lot’s changed, yeah; but do you really want to live amongst these people? Sure, legally we can live here now, but do you want to? After everything they’ve done,” Lio lifted his head fully this time. “Kray. What Kray did, the orders Kray gave. The people don’t matter as long as you're happy, Gueira.”

The two males looked shocked. “What, you're saying it’s a good idea to stay here? With these people?!” Was this the same Lio Fotia that had earned the title as “Boss” to the Mad Burnish? The blonde thought for a moment. “I think it’s up to you to decide what you think is best. We’ll never fully be accepted, I know that. I’m willing to face that, to see this so called ‘equal’ city the new governor has proposed.

“I was offered a spot that I could enforce this so called equality and offer aid to those who need it. Without my flames, I’ve been at a complete loss of purpose. But I found i enjoy saving people and helping them. Other people have other dreams and passions they wish to pursue or education they wish to achieve,” he paused to motion to a moth holding her child to the side of the still abandoned market that the burnish were currently inhabiting. “Or an education and better chance at life for children. This is what I wish to do, your paths are your choice.” 

There was a shocked silence before Meis finally said something. “So…. your staying with that blue haired idiot then, right?” Lio’s demeanor shifted slightly, but not enough to be fully noticed. He was a bit shocked by that response but pushed it aside. He couldn’t expect everyone to feel the same. “Galo,” he corrected. “Yes, I’m staying here with Galo to save people.” The room was still tesne. 

The seconds in command looked to each other, unsure of what the next move should be. “So, that’s it Boss? You want to stay and try to build a new start,” Gueira asked. The blonde nodded. “Why not? Would our city be much different? We’d act with less respect towards a normal person if they stumbled upon us. Same give and take economic method they have. All I can say is the majority and minorities would be reversed. 

“Ignoring a social issue isn’t resolving it, it’s just that. It’s ignoring something of importance. If you wish to leave and start your own community to avoid those who’ve done us wrong, so be it. I, personally, am going to stand and show it doesn’t affect me. Their arrogance, their actions, their words. We’re all human; even if they don’t see it, I do.” 

His introduction speech played through his friends’ heads as they took in his words; his take on where they stood. They stood equal by law as stated, but socially they would have to make it know that they weren’t going to simply disappear into the shadows again because they weren’t wanted thanks to lies and oppression caused by Kray. 

“Well, if that’s how you feel,” Meis started, looking up from the dirty concrete floor. Lio was bracing himself for an orally harsh blow. :Then I guess we’re still right behind you Boss,” Gueira finished. Huh? Lio looked shocked at this, not masking the emotion. “You want to stay?” He couldn’t believe it. 

“Us two will, yeah. The others can decide on their own,” Gueira said with a smile as he looked around the quiet building. “They can't just force us back into hiding because it makes them feel better. We’re not bugs, we’re burnish,” Meis reasoned. “We’re people,” a woman said form the back. “We have rights too,” a man agreed. “It’s time to take action!” “We need to take advantage of this opportunity!” “Better living conditions!” “Better medicine!”

Soon enough the store was alive with the sounds of agreement. Lio looked a bit shocked. He’d honestly stopped by, not expecting for so many to understand or even want to stay. He smiled with no control of it before feeling two hands on his shoulders. Meis and Gueira looked down at him with unsure but hopeful smiles. “You’ll just have to see where life takes you,” was Lio’s departing words. 

He knew he’d see them around again; Meis had the address of the new apartment. But it felt like the right time to leave, to let everyone's growth start to bloom. “Oi, Lio!” A new voice called to the blonde as he left. A familiar blue haired male waving to the other as he jogged over. “That was pretty noisy, how’d it go?” Lio gently took the jacket off the back of the motorcycle before pulling it on. 

“Better than I could have ever expected.” The smile on his face was all Galo needed before he cracked a grin. 

The sound of a door clicking shut seemed to be the only noise in the night air before a parental tone broke through the temporary bliss. “I still can’t believe your letting two guys you hardly know spend the night in your apartment without you there,” it lectured. The male being addressed shrugged before turning to the woman who’d be housing him that night with a smile. “It doesn’t matter if I know them or not, Aina; Lio does. They were the Mad Burnish. Gotta be close to have a functioning group like them, right?”  

The pink haired girl shrugged before sighing a bit as she looked down past her crossed arms. “Yeah but have they been all that close since we defeated Kray? It’s not like they see each other all that often.” Galo gently took her arm before guiding her down the stairs. “Regardless, it’s his apartment too. His friends, his apartment and,” he sighed as he thought about the conversation that brought this plan about. “He needs some time with them.”

Aina looked at him with confusion as they walked down the street to her motorcycle. “Oh, is something wrong?” Galo shrugged as he stopped on the road side of the vehicle. “Ah, it’s difficult to explain. Frankly, I’m still not even sure what Lio was getting at. It’s like he feels guilty or something for everything. Like the burnish losing their flame, Kray being defeated, rebuilding the city, moving in with me and becoming a firefighter.” He stopped the list and shook his head. 

“I don’t know. He’s my best friend, I just want to help him. But I can't save him if I don’t know what I’m putting out. Maybe this’ll help?”  Aina thought a moment before shaking her head. “Your doing what you can, your being there for him. That’s all you can do sometimes,” she stated softly before climbing onto her vehicle. “Still though,” she started before looking behind her to see Galo following her lead, “I’m surprised Lio was so trusting of you so quickly. You guys grew a strong bond so quickly and from nothing. 

“If I was in his shoes, I’m not sure I could have done the same.” Galo thought about her words. He’d never really considered or stopped to think about how quickly their friendship took off.  “What I’m saying is, he trusts you a lot Galo. You thought this would be best to help him, right?” The blue haired male nodded; his face looked like that of a distraught child. “Then your already helping to extinguish his grief. Your a good friend Galo.” The other looked a little shocked before smiling. 

“I didn’t think about it that way…. thanks Aina.” The girl gave him a wink. “Now…. how about some pizza?” Galo let out a sound of excitement before the two took off down the shockingly empty street. 

_

It was both comforting and sickening at the same time. Guilt burned inside him, demanding action as if the flame had never left. He hadn’t been doing enough, he hadn’t been there for them like he should be; like he used to be. The blonde awkwardly stood in the kitchen with his former group mates before motioning towards the fridge. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like. We don’t have much, but I could try to cook.” 

Meis gave a small nod as Gueira snorted. “Yeah, let’s see how long until you burn down the idiot’s apartment with that.” Lio huffed before crossing his arms. “I’m not that awful.” The red head walked close to the blonde with a playful smirk. “Lio you’ve never cooked properly a day in your life.” Meis sighed as he opened the fridge for a bottle of water. “Neither have we Gueira.” 

He was a bit surprised to see some small meals here and there. Pizza from the shop nearby, pasta dishes; and a lot of  them. The dark haired male tucked some hair behind his ear before grabbing the plate of pizza and walking to the microwave. “Forty five should do it, right?” Lio nodded. “Yeah.” 

The sound of the microwave filled the awkward silence around the three before Gueira started to look around. “Wow, nice place you got here Boss.” Everything was rather plain and basic, yet homey all at the same time. There weren't many materialistic-type items except for a few pictures on the wall and a stack of dvds next to an average sized television. It made sense seeing as the burnish had to live as minimalists for so long. 

“Thanks,” Lio said, feeling even more awkward. “So, anything here yours or is this all…. Galo’s?” Meis wasn’t sure he got the name right. Lio gave him a nod before sighing. “The pictures are his, same with the dvds. Other than that he says it’s ours.” Meis quirked a brow. “That’s an odd way to respond.” 

Gueria walked back over before standing in front of Lio with crossed arms. “That Galo guy getting in your head or something? This and that is his but he says the rest is ours?” It didn’t sound right hearing it back. “That’s not what I meant,” Lio defended. “I’m just not used to all this.” Lio held himself awkwardly as he looked away, almost shamefully. He wasn’t clarifying much. 

“Then why stay here?” Meis shot daggers at the red head. “Gueira. If he’s happy here, leave him be.” Lio was staring between them, rather shocked from the statements. “He’s still not used to this place. It’s been nine months.” As the two started to argue back and forth, Lio finally came between them. “Alright, break it up.” They weren’t getting aggressive, just showing they cared for the other. 

It was clear that they were upset though. But was it about Lio leaving them? “Honestly, what’s this guy got that we don’t Lio,” Gueira asked with a more calm tone. “He’s a Burning Rescue member. He captured us, he captured so many of us.” “We wanted to get captured to find where they were keeping us,” Lio argued back with slight frustration. “But he didn’t know that!” Meis sighed. He was staying out of it until necessary. Turning back to the microwave, he pulled out the pizza and stood by the counter; watching his entertainment as he ate.

“I’m sorry. Do I need to remind you that he saved me? That he saved all of us? We’d all be dead if he hadn't helped. He isn’t against the burnish, he only had a problem with the fires we started, that’s it. The same goes for the rest of the rescue force. None of them hate burnish. One person can not dictate the beliefs and mindset of those bearing a similar label of identification.” 

The two growled as they leaned in closer. “And his whole promise to protect you from everything people who don’t believe in that do to you? He’s really got you around his finger there Boss.” Lio growled a bit more as he pressed his forehead against the other’s. “Why do you hate him so much? You don’t even know him!” 

“Because you were so quick to trust him and run off with him! For the love of everything you are wearing your work jacket! Your part of the Burning Rescue team!” Lio pulled back with widened eyes before looking away. Gueira looked shocked. Had he just…. broke the boss? Meis sat forward. “Enough, both of you. We’re a family, knock it off.” Lio was quiet as he took off the jacket and laid it on the chair beside him. Goosebumps popped up on his skin from the cool air in the apartment.

“So I’m a traitor?” Gueira looked even more shocked before, now Meis did too. “No one said your a traitor Lio. Look,how about we take a breath before anything else stupid comes out.” Meis glared at the red head as he spoke. “No, I get it. I left the burnish for a guy I hardly knew. Then to make matters worse, I joined the fire fighters.” He shook his head. This wasn’t a good idea, but the others had all the right to be upset with him. 

“Boss, we never said that,” Gueira said with a bit of panic in his voice. Meis leaned forward before taking another bite of his pizza. “What’s on your mind?” Lio still wouldn’t look at them. “I feel like I abandoned you all. I feel like there’s more I could be doing, that I should be doing, but I don’t know what if people don’t approach me about it. I can’t just track everyone down like before. We’re not all in the same area.” 

Purple eyes closed as a sigh escaped soft lips. “Maybe the city was a good idea, our own.” Meis and Gueira looked at each other before going back to the blonde. Lio suddenly squeaked, jumping as a hand squeezed his side. “Hey, what did you do with the Boss, huh?” Meis smirked as he walked around the back of the table to corner the blode. “Yeah, since when is he so insecure?” 

Huh? “What are you two,” he gasped again, cutting off his question. Oh no. Purple eyes widened before fear started to kick in. “Don’t even think about it,” he threatened as he tried to squirm out of the trap. The dark haired male started first, tickling the dark cloth shielding the small frame of the blonde softly. Lio turned his head away from the offending hands, biting his lip to keep from laughing. 

“What Gueira meant was that…. We’ll, we just don’t trust how fast you bonded to that blue idiot. We’re happy for you boss but we just don’t trust these people. You can handle yourself to an extent but we don’t have our flames anymore. You're like a sitting duck.” Four hands started to pinch up and down his sides. To keep his composure, Lio gripped the chair in front of him tightly, moving his body a little to try and avoid the touches. 

“See? By now you would have had flames defending you.” Which would normally encourage them to torment the poor blonde more. “St…. st…. haop!” He was losing it. Meis sighed before moving up to the ribs. “What it boils down to is you have your friends, and we have ours. We weren’t trying to guilt you back.” Gueira nodded before prying hand arm from the chair. 

Lio quickly grabbed onto the other with his free hand, only for both arms to suddenly before lifted overhead. Panic from his mistake hit him quickly. How careless could he have been?! Meis quickly moved behind the smallest, Gueira in front of him. Lio was pinned between the two. A hand held each forearm, keeping both arms over head as Meis dug into the exposed underarms. “Nhahahahaha! N-Nhahahahao! Shahahait- whahahait!” 

Both grinned evilly as memories from living on the run came back. Sure, these three weren’t overly lovey dovey, physically affectionate people; but they had their bonding moments. Tickling down each other sometimes was the closest they really got to that; and it was mainly to mess with each other (or especially Lio). “Where’s that protection now, huh,” Gueira chuckled. “Yeah Boss, where’s that hero of yours?” 

The blonde started to shake his head, not wanting to give either anymore satisfaction than he was. The red head chuckled before yanking Lio forward, quickly catching him and lifting him up from under his bottom. “D-Don’t even,” Lio squealed as he tried to balance himself by pressing his hands against the ceiling. 

“But Lio, we have to test you to make sure your body’ll be able to move in that stupid, tacky armor you need,” Meis said, mocking Lucia’s designs. “Tsk, tsk, you should be taking this job more seriously.” Lio nearly slipped from the ceiling, face bright red; a hand started to squeeze at his thighs. “Ghehehet the hehehell off mhehehehe!”

“Maybe after we work out a few deals here,” Meis started as he started to squeeze higher towards Lio’s butt. The blonde was thankful he had jeans on, it wasn’t as bad as it could be. “For starters, don’t worry about trying to help us with our rent,” Gueira huffed. “You have yourself to worry about. It’s not your job to watch for all of us.” 

There was no response. Slowly, Lio did move to hang himself over the red head’s shoulder as he couldn’t keep his balance much longer. Blonde hair flipped upward as tears started to form. “If you don’t say something your feet are next,” Meis threatened. Lio shook his head, laughing freely before finally choking out something. “What was that,” Gueira asked with a laugh. “Thahahat’s my jahahaob!” Meis shrugged before giving a short break to the blonde. 

Lio didn’t bother to try to pull himself off the taller, nor did he need to. Soon enough, he felt something firm pressing into his lower back. The couch. Shit. He quickly tried to escape, only to get pinned back down to the couch. This time, Meis held him, and Gueira was the executioner. 

Meis had his back to the arm of the couch, his body turned and facing the other. Lio’s upper body lay between his legs; his arms holding him down. “Wrong answer,” Gueira stated as he went to grab an ankle. Lio wasn’t going to make it easy for the red head. He tried kicking him, shoving him, anything he could before he felt a motion on his stomach. 

Purple eyes crinkled shut as his back arched. A snort escaped his mouth before he bounced slightly in Meis’s hold. “Nhahahao sthahaop,” he whimper giggled. “Stop trying to worry about everyone. If we lived in our own city now, you’d be stressed non stop. You wouldn’t see your blue haired friend much, and we’d have to do this a lot more to get you to relax and calm your shit,” Meis whispered into the blonde’s ear. 

Slowly, Lio started to relax as the fingers stopped. He wasn’t sure what to say, just relaxing in his friend's legs. He felt his hair move from his face, Meis wasn’t sure what else to do. “You were right back then. We can’t run away and hide because we’re not wanted. We’re people too, not bugs. We need to stand our ground, and we are. You inspired us to do that Boss. What happens from here isn’t your issue, it’s not been. Your a great leader Boss, but you take too  much responsibility.” 

The words did touch the blonde but all he could do was try to think of lightening the room. “Says the guy who had too little as a leader.” Gueira gasped before digging into the thighs once more. “I get all sentimental for you, and this is what I get? You're lucky I don’t rip these things off you so you can feel the full wrath!”  Lio gauffed out a laugh, fully falling weak into the two’s attack. 

He hadn’t laughed so freely or so much in so long. Body parts flew as he wasn’t going to make this easy on the other two and a few revenge jabs were sent out here and there. 

“Yeah, thanks again Aina,” a voice came, slightly stirring Meis from his sleep. He glanced through half lidded eyes to the door to see the blue idiot. It didn’t fully register as he curled up to sleep more, pulling the weighted heat closer. 

“Oi Lio,” the voice called out rather loudly as the door shut. “I’m ba,” he froze. A hand covered his mouth as his eyes widened. Was he supposed to be seeing this? Meis was in the same position as the night before, his hands up Lio’s shirt for heat. Gueira’s face was facing Galo, eyes shut as he rested on Lio’s stomach; using him as a pillow. His arms were wrapped around the blonde that started to stir a bit. “Mmm?” Gueira grunted at the noise and movement as Meis sighed. “Your boyfriend’s home,” he grumbled before trying to fall back asleep again. “Mmm,” Lio groaned. 

Boyfriend?! Was he supposed to be seeing this? What happened last night? Galo placed his bag down before nodding and awkwardly leaving to sit outside until the others would awaken. He covered his blushing face; he felt like a peeping Tom or something!Well whatever they did, he hoped it helped his friend out of his funk.

[thetranquilteal]

Tethered - A One Shot [AO3] by @thetranquilteal

Being tethered can be both a blessing and a curse. It all depends on your point of view.

Modern Day Firefighter AU. One-shot. Inspired by personal feelings of anxiety and helplessness this Australian bushfire season. 

A/N: I had just settled myself down in front of my computer with the intention of editing Part II of The Gift when the news caught my notice. For many Australian’s like myself, bushfires are not anything new. Every year hazard reduction burns are conducted (weather permitting), friends and family who volunteer with local fire brigades are likely to get called out at unexpected times, we pay attention when the State Department issues a Total Fire Ban. But the news that day was worrisome. It was alarming. It was downright anxiety-inducing. A literal state of emergency. I looked down at the story on my screen and asked myself… What would Claire and Jamie do in this situation? The answer, I found, was easy: they would be right there in amongst it. Fighting. Healing. Doing anything and everything they could to help the cause. Then I began to wonder… what if Claire was in my situation? What if she, too, was a primary carer who had little ones relying upon her, who had little to no extended family to provide support, who couldn’t simply walk out the door - no matter how much she wanted to? After much thought, I came to understand that - just as there is strength in staying to defend and strength in leaving everything behind - there is strength in going in headfirst and strength in staying behind. 

That being tethered can be both a blessing and a curse. It all depends on your point of view.

She was tethered.

And all she could do was worry.

Claire's hand hovered over her phone sitting on the kitchen bench and she caught herself, purposefully pulling herself away and over to the sink where a pile of dishes were waiting. 

Reading the news would bring no relief, she knew, only reports of more people evacuating homes, an ever-increasing number of people missing and warnings of extreme weather forecast for the days ahead, all guaranteed to intensify the sense of helplessness that had been hovering over her ever since Jamie had left.

It was a feeling as hot and sticky as the heat itself - and one she had come to hate. 

In all her thirty years, she had seen and done many things. She had served with an army, graduated medical school and worked in the most adverse and trying conditions with Doctors Without Borders. She had been arrested during protests, been beaten, wounded, patronised and, at the worst of times, betrayed by those she relied on most. Most recently she had relocated to a new country, become a foster mother and survived childbirth twice.

Yet nothing compared to staying behind while Jamie went with the Rural Fire Service to the front line. 

It had to be the hardest thing she had ever done.

Even now, two weeks after Jamie had received the call, she was itching to move. To take action. Drop Fergus, Faith and Brianna off with trusted friends and head for the hills. Literally.

She looked down at her gloved hands, covered in soap suds and clenched them tightly before opening them again to look at them plainly. There was so much more they could be doing - should be doing - other than washing multicoloured milk stained cups and jam smeared plates. 

Respiratory problems, minor burns, heat exhaustion and dehydration, for example, were things she was well trained and equipped to deal with. But staying at home to look after the house and the children while her husband, friends and colleagues risked their lives during a state of emergency? Not so much.

Welcoming Fergus into their home had been both simple and easy. As an 8-year-old he had been happy to go wherever she and Jamie went, be it home or away, on a schedule or travelling across land and sea at only a moments notice. So much so, in fact, she had caught him attempting to stow away in one of the RFS trucks, adamant that he was not only old enough to go with the men but it would be beneficial for the team to have someone as small and fast as he around to help them.

Having Faith and then Brianna, however, had been something else entirely with periods of enforced bed rest, a near-death experience during birth and now being on maternity leave during a crisis challenging her in ways she had never expected. 

She let out a sigh and pulled the plug out of the sink, deciding to leave the now clean pile of dishes to the elements in favour of giving in and scanning her phone for updates. Again.

‘Too Late To Leave’ the latest headline read and, just like every other time she came across those words, a shiver ran through her leaving goosebumps along her skin in its wake. Her throat tightened at the thought of something happening to Jamie or any of his team members and tears welled up in her eyes, from frustration or despair she didn't know. 

Perhaps it was a mixture of both. 

Not a moment too soon, Faith bounded through the kitchen door, hands full of colourful flowers pulled from the garden. 

"For Mrs Cook!" Faith announced, holding out the bouquet proudly, her both smile wide and innocent, as Fergus joined them notably red-faced and out of breath.

"For Mrs Crook?" Claire corrected with a smile of her own as she reached for one of the clean cups behind her.

More than once she and Jamie had expressed to their foster son that caring for the little ones was not - and never would be - his responsibility yet the 11-year-old could always be found nearby actively looking after them, be it redirecting Faith’s attention when her antics turned dangerous or rocking Brianna’s crib when something startled her from slumber. 

The least she could do, she figured, was refuel him at any given opportunity. 

"Aye! Mrs Cook!" Faith repeated unfazed, her red curls bouncing eagerly.

"We haven't gone down to see Mrs Crook nor Mr Martin since the day before yesterday,” Fergus paused to gulp down half the cup and then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “We were thinking to take them some iced tea -” 

“And flowers!”

“- and some flowers," Fergus added clearly, his eyes sparkling.

"That's a wonderful idea,” Claire agreed proudly. The days had been warm and at times the air so thick with smoke the normally busy roads were abandoned in favour of air-conditioned residences and she had made a point of regularly contacting their most at-risk neighbours just 'in case'. Such thoughtfulness from the children warmed a part of her, somewhere deep within her chest, that she hadn’t realised had grown cold. “I’ll get Brianna ready while you collect the fresh jug from the refrigerator."

On her way out of the kitchen she picked her phone up off the counter and slipped it into her back pocket before scooping Brianna up out of her bouncer and following the elder two children out the door.

"Come home to me, soldier," was the last thing she said to Jamie. 

She would have to trust that he would.

"Keep the bairns safe," was the last thing he said to Claire. 

He would have to trust that she would.

There was no point in worrying about things he had no control over, he knew. Not when the ash beneath his feet was like snow, covering every surface the eye could see, and flames in the distance reached heights he never imagined possible, producing smoke so thick it threatened the sky's existence. 

To consume the very air they breathed.

Jamie pulled up his visor and wiped the ever-present sweat off his forehead with a dirty sleeve.

With moderate temperatures and low winds, they had expected to spend the day reinforcing containment lines in preparation for the days ahead, a much-welcomed respite from the gruelling 16-hour shifts they had been partaking in so far. 

Just halfway to their assigned location in the National Park, however, they had received an urgent request for assistance in the Valley where a spot fire had taken the local crew by surprise. Together they had managed to protect all nearby buildings - including one he later found out was heritage-listed and an important part of local history - and were taking a moment to rest before getting back on the highway.

"Hey, Fraser! Catch!"

Jamie turned and caught the bottle of water in his gloved hands smoothly. He tucked it under his arm to take off his gloves before opening the bottle and lifting it to his dry, chapped lips. 

"Taing," he called back, his voice still scratchy but strong, and lifted the now mostly empty bottle in a show of gratitude.

Left to his own devices for a moment more, he took the opportunity to look around as his heart rate slowed to a more reasonable beat. Except for their fleet of three trucks and two utility vehicles, each strategically parked to form a line of defence, the road was barren and the lack of wildlife combined with the eerie orange glow filtering through haze left him with an unusual sense of unease. 

The very first time he had signed up to volunteer with the local brigade, he had been a young lad living in the Scottish Highlands, determined to follow in his late father’s footsteps, and in the years that followed learned from some of the toughest and most experienced senior members not only how to deal with the myriad of things they would undoubtedly encounter but what it truly meant to be a firefighter and part of a crew. 

For some years now, he had considered himself both highly skilled and well informed, worthy of the seniority bestowed upon him and prepared for anything that would fall across his path. Yet, in all his years fighting fires, he had never experienced a summer like this.

It wasn't just the challenging terrain, unprecedented severe weather conditions or the growing number of losses that settled upon his shoulders, as heavy as the equipment they carried on their backs, that was testing him - threatening to push him beyond his limits. 

It was also the first time the job had taken him so far away from his family. And for so long.

The first day or two had been easy with specialist reports, numerous briefings, allocation of equipment and the challenge of building a team under extreme conditions taking most if not all of his time and energy. But as they became familiar with the situation and settled into a somewhat regular routine, he found himself thinking of his family more and more. It was not uncommon for him to lay on a makeshift bed on the station floor in the wee hours of the morning, his body exhausted to the point of collapse but mind not yet following suit, and find himself wondering how they were or what they had been doing in his absence. 

Even on their busiest days, when they stood on the front line, feet planted firmly on the ground, sweat running down their backs and hearts racing in their chests, they were there, not so much in conscious thought but a subtle sensation. As though something was pulling on him, reminding him that their mere existence provided him with purpose.

A purpose to fight, yes, but also a much newer purpose to come home.

At the signal of their Crew Leader, he drained the last of his water and climbed up into the cab of the truck.

Right now, they were headed into the unknown, their uniforms blackened and scorched in places before they had even truly begun. He didn’t know what they would come to face in the next few hours, how long this beast would rage or much damage it would ultimately cause. 

All he knew for certain was that none of them were invincible, that what they were facing here - yesterday, today and tomorrow - was bigger and stronger than he and the crew would ever hope to be.

And he also knew he needn't worry.

He was tethered.

[avengerscompound]

The Brothers Wilson

The Brothers Wilson: A Falcon and Deadpool Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Sam Wilson & Wade Wilson (platonic)

Word Count:  1919

Rating:  M

Warnings:  action, canon typical violence

Synopsis:  When Sam is called in to help with a hostage situation, Wade shows up out of the blue. For some reason, he gets it in his head that he and Sam are brothers.

(Extremely loosely based on the song believer)

The Brothers Wilson

Sam spotted the large congregation of emergency vehicles around the outside of the bank.  He circled down and landed near a group of police officers.  They looked up at him startled for a moment and the captain came over and offered Sam his hand.

“I’m Captain Giovanni.”  He said shaking Sam’s hand.  “Thanks for coming down.”

“Sam Wilson,”  Sam replied.  “What’s the current situation?”

“Why I’ll be hogtied and greased up.  Sam.  Wilson.”

Sam flinched at the sound of Wade’s voice and felt his whole body tense up when the mercenary wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and rested his chin on Sam’s shoulder.  “Wade.”  He said through clenched teeth.

“But my name is Wilson too,”  Wade said, squeezing Sam around the waist.

“Yes, I am aware of that.”  Sam sighed.

“Do you know your father because I don’t know mine.  One time Loki told me he was my father, but thinking back on it I think they were tricking me.”  Wade babbled.

Sam let out a frustrated groan.  The last thing he wanted to be doing right now was deal with Wade Wilson’s rambling.  There were people in that building and he still didn’t have any kind of run down.  “Yes, I know who my dad is.”

“Is it Loki?”  Wade asked.

“What?  No.”  Sam said turning to face the leather-clad man.  “His name was Paul.”

Wade threw himself into Sam.  Squeezing him around the waist and resting his head on Sam’s chest.  “Oh, that’s a relief.  Maybe we’re brothers.  I’ve always wanted a brother.  And I did never know my dad.  My mom,”  He leaned in close to Sam.  “Kinda got around, if you know what I mean?  Wasn’t easy growing up.  But you look like you did okay.  Was dad a good guy?  I wish he’d looked after his little Wade.  But all I got was the name and a sea of troubles.”

Sam held his hands out awkwardly.  “We are not brothers, Wade.  You can obviously see that.”

Wade pulled away and looked Sam up and down.  He leaned into Sam and cupped his ear.  “Is it because I’m Canadian?”

“What the…?”  Sam said jerking away from Wade.  He turned back to Captain Giovanni and rolled his eyes.  “I am so sorry about him.  You were saying?”

“We never called in Deadpool.  I don’t know if he should be involved.”  Giovanni said, narrowing his eyes at Wade.

“Hey, hey, hey,”  Wade said holding up a finger.  “Who here is the superhero and who isn’t?  I think we get to decide who gets to go save the day or not.”

“Wade…”  Sam groaned pinching the bridge of his nose.  This was going to be a long fucking day.  He could just tell.

“Besides, this is my brother and while I actually have superpowers he is just a regular old normie.  Wouldn’t it be better to actually have a superhero who was super?”  Wade continued.

“We aren’t brothers…”

Wade put his hand on Sam’s mouth.  Sam sagged.  He guessed it was best if Wade just got all the thoughts out in one go.  It would be easier to let him in any case.

“And because we’re brothers I will no longer be known as Deadpool.  I will be Dovepool.  Keep the bird theme in the family.”  He turned to look at Sam and even through the mask, Sam could read the shock on his face.  “Is Hawkeye our brother too?”

Sam was getting a headache.  He could tell.  He lowered Wade’s hand from his mouth.  “Easier just to let him help.  We’ll get the hostages out.  Don’t worry.”

Giovanni eyed the two men and nodded.  “So far they have the first three floors taken.  The rest have been isolated.  There are at least 60 hostages, but we don’t know the total number.  They are all heavily armed.”

“Oh, goodie,”  Wade said clapping his hands.

“First things first,”  Sam said and Wade started humming to himself.  “Expand the perimeter out.  With Wade, I can’t promise there won’t be a firefight.”

Giovanni turned and started speaking into his walkie-talkie and Sam turned to Wade.  “Second thing,”  Sam said circling around to the back of the building.  “The hostages are the priority.  If they’re clued in we’re in there they may start executing them.  We’re going in the back door and we’re being stealthy.  Got it?”

Wade skipped after him.  “Anything for you brother.”

“I’m not your brother.”  Sam snapped.  “And who calls their brother, brother, anyway?  That not how people speak.”

“It’s how Thor speaks,”  Wade said with a shrug.  “And he’s a god.  Are you saying you’re better than a god?”

“Oh for the love of…”

“Thor?”  Wade suggested.  “That’s where you were going right?”

“How about you just take out those guys, huh?”  Sam said, indicating to the two men standing at the service entrance with assault rifles.

“Oh my.  My brother is setting me up!  What will I wear on my date?  I want it to be slutty but not too slutty you know?”  Wade said and pulled out his gun.  He fired once.  The bullet went through the closer guys hand making him drop his weapon that went off when it hit the ground taking out the other guy’s knee and making him fall to the ground clutching it.

“Shit.  That was loud.”  Sam said and launched himself into the air flying towards the two men.

“What’s going on out there?”  He heard through their comms.

Sam took it off the guy and held it so it would crackle just enough to make his voice indistinct.  “Pigs were trying to get to close.  Giving them a little warning.”

“Right.  Roger that.  Keep it up.”  The voice responded.

Sam waved over a medic and some officers to take them away.  “You didn’t kill them?”

“I never kill when I’m doing Avengers work.  Come on.  We have an image to maintain, bro.”  Wade said clapping him on his back.

Sam sighed and carefully pried the door open.  The hall was clear and he lowered his goggles and released Redwing.

“Oh.  My.  God!  I love your bird.  What’s his name?”  Wade said.

“Shh… quiet.  We’re being stealthy remember?”  Sam said.  “And it’s Redwing.  And yes you can pat him.  But after.”

The robotic bird flew down the hall scanning for heat signatures while Sam and Wade waiting in the entrance, Wade bouncing excitedly on his feet.  Most of the rooms were empty.  At the doors to the entrance, two more guards stood and then three patrolling the halls.  Sam relayed the information to Wade as they crept down the hall.

“Easy,”  Wade said pulling out his swords.  As they came up to where Redwing was Sam let the bird flew around the corner.  The two goons standing at the door looked up froze as they tried to work out what they were looking at when the bird shot them both in the neck.  Wade walked around the corner and his hands flew to his cheeks.  “You killed them.”

“They’re the bad guys, Wade,”  Sam said pulling out his guns.

Wade looked from Sam to the bodies and back to Sam again.  “Rock and roll!”

The two burst through the door and took out the three goons in succession before heading straight up the stairs.  The second floor was where the hostages were being held.  Sam burst through the room with Redwing who banked around to the left as Sam got between the hostages and their captors, putting his wings as a shield.  Wade meanwhile went to the right and took out every captor one by one while their attention was drawn.

“Nice work, Wilson,”  Sam said putting his guns away.

“It’s like we’ve got some brotherly telepathic bonds,”  Wade said, holding his side.  “Except for the fact I think that guy shot me.”  He said pulling out his gun and shooting the offending goon again.

“Alright everyone, it’s safe to go out.  Keep your hands up as you go.  We’re heading up.”  Sam said.

The dazed-looking hostages all stood slowly and made their way downstairs.

“Can I pat Redwing now?”  Wade asked as they ushered everyone out the door and down the stairs.

“Yeah.  Go on.”  Sam said with a nod.

Wade gave the robotic bird a pat on the head and looked up the stairwell.  “You think they’re up there waiting for us?”

“Oh most definitely,”  Sam said.

“Complete firefight?”

“Raining bullets.”  Sam agreed as they started climbing the stairs together, reloading their guns.  “Been good working with you, Wade.”

Wade held out his fist to Sam.  “Wilson brothers forever?”

Sam chuckled and shook his head, bumping Wade’s fist with his.  “Alright, Wade.  You’ve made me a believer.  Wilson brother’s forever.”

The stepped up in front of the door and kicked it in together, and the room erupted into chaos.

[rubyspearsmegamanproject]

24. Fire Power

We are shown a medium-sized city at the beginning of the episode. Mega Man, Roll, and Rush are at an outdoor restaurant in the city's center plaza. They are enjoying their lunch. They see a lot of fire trucks speeding down the street. They wonder why so many fire trucks were going down the street. Mega Man is concerned that it means that there is a very large fire in the city. Mega Man pushes a button on his arm cannon and tunes in to the fire station's radio channel. The radio is calling out that there is a massive fire downtown. Mega Man and Rush head off to where the fire is. They see that the fire is rather large. Mega Man calls Dr. Light on his arm cannon and tells him to bring his Fire Suit. While he is waiting for his Fire Suit, Mega Man helps the firefighters save the people and pets trapped inside the burning buildings. Rush also helps. Dr. Light shows up in the Air Raider and has Mega Man come inside the vehicle to put the Fire Suit on. Mega Man comes out of the vehicle with his Fire Suit on. He uses the Fire Suit's water cannon to put out some of the fires. Finally, the fires have all been put out.

Mega Man asks the firefighters what caused the fire. They tell him that the residents called them and told them that this vehicle flew above them and set the buildings on fire. Mega Man and Dr. Light suspect that Dr. Wily was responsible for starting the fires. They go back to the lab to find and track the vehicle down. As they are tracking the vehicle down back at Dr. Light's Lab, an emergency call comes in on the main screen in the main lab. The fire chief from another city comes up on the screen and tells Dr. Light that a fire has been

started downtown. Dr. Light tells him that he is tracking down the vehicle responsible for starting the fires. He tells the fire chief that he will send out some fire fighting robots and some firefighting vehicles out to assist them in putting out the fire. Mega Man and Rush are putting on their Fire Suits. Dr. Light tells him to be on the lookout for the vehicle responsible for starting the fires. Mega Man and Rush fly out of the lab and to where the fire is. Up in the sky, the vehicle responsible for the fires is revealed to be a Wily Machine that has a flamethrower attatched to it.

In the Wily Machine, Dr. Wily tells his robots that the resulting fires will throw the whole area into total chaos. Fire Man asks Dr. Wily how he will take over the area with everything nearly destroyed by the fires. Dr. Wily tells him that he will build new buildings in their place. He then says that Mega Man will very likely be at the next place that he sets on fire. He tells the robot masters to drop down from the Wily Machine and destroy him when he appears to fight the fires. The Wily Machine then flies over to its next target. As Mega Man and Rush are flying around in search of the vehicle, Dr. Light calls up Mega Man on his arm cannon and tells him that a skyscraper has been set on fire by the vehicle. Mega Man knows that humans and robots will need to be saved and he and Rush quickly fly over to the skyscraper.

As they near the skyscraper, they see the Wily Machine leaving the scene of the crime. Mega Man tells Rush that putting out the fire and saving the building's occupants is more vital than taking down the Wily Machine. They fly through a window into the burning skyscraper. Rush is sniffing around for humans and robots trapped in the fire. Mega Man meanwhile, uses the the water cannon on his Fire Suit to put out the fires inside of the building. He goes up to a wall of fire to put it out, and sees someone coming

out of the wall of flames. Mega Man recognizes the person as Fire Man. Mega Man aims his Fire Suit's cannon at Fire Man, ready to shoot water at him. Just as he is about to, Mega Man feels a fireball hit him on his back. Mega Man turns around to see Heat Man readying another weapon. Mega Man dodges Heat Man's weapon and tells Fire Man and Heat Man that he doesn't have time to play with them. He runs off to save the building's residents.

In another part of the skyscraper, Mega Man sees some office workers huddled in a cubicle. He tells them that he is here to get them out of the burning building. He carries some of them in his arms, and goes up to a window. He yells out to the firefighters that he has some humans that need to be rescued from the building. He tells them that he needs and air vehicle to get them safely onto the ground. A firefighting air vehicle comes up to the

window. Mega Man places the humans onto the vehicle, and the vehicle brings the humans safely down onto the ground and away from the fire. He turns around to see Heat Man and Fire Man preparing to attack him. Mega Man quickly shoots his water cannon at them. They are unable to use their weapons as they have been soaked thoroughly with the water cannon. Mega Man kicks Fire Man away and slams shut the lid on Heat Man's lighter-like body.

The building then shakes. Mega Man realizes that the skyscraper is about to collapse. He calls up Rush on his arm cannon and asks him if there are anymore humans and robots left to rescue. Rush barks two times, indicating that there as two more humans to save before the skyscraper collapses. Mega Man goes over to Rush and tells him to lead him to the trapped humans. The floor collapses underneath them, and they fall down a floor. When they

land, they see that the two humans needing rescue are right near them. "Well that was easy!" Mega Man quips. He rescues the humans and is making his way out of the crumbling building. On his way out, he sees something glowing red up ahead of him. To his horror, he sees that it is Magma Man. Magma Man gets ready to fire his weapon at him. Mega Man has Rush carry the humans out of the building while he takes on Magma Man. Magma Man fires his weapon at him. His Fire Suit takes most of the damage from the weapon, keeping Mega Man safe from the attack. Mega Man fires his Fire Suit's water cannon at him. It appears that Magma Man has been doused. Unfortunately, Magma Man manages to heat himself back up. He fires his weapon again at Mega Man. Mega Man tries to dodge it, knowing that his Fire Suit can only take so much. Some of the weapon manages to still hit Mega Man. The Fire Suit cannot take anymore and fails. Mega Man is still able to use the Fire Suit as armor to protect himself against Magma Man. Mega Man uses the rest of the Fire Suit water cannon to thoroughly douse Magma Man a second time. Magma Man evilly laughs and says that he clearly doesn't learn from his mistakes. Mega Man says to him "Oh, but I do!" He then fires a fully charged blast at him with his plasma cannon. The blast reduces a large amount of Magma Man's power. Mega Man then says, "How's that for a mistake, Magma Man?" He then knocks him out with a second blast from his plasma cannon. Mega Man then copies his weapon. After copying Magma Man's weapon, the skyscraper begins to collapse.

Mega Man uses his newly-acquired weapon to make his way out of the crumbling building, but it is too late. The skyscraper collapses, and Mega Man falls down onto the ground hard. The firefighter and rescue robots manage to get him out of the remains of the fallen skyscraper. Mega Man short circuits and then shuts down. Rush sadly licks Mega Man's face and howls. One of the firefighter robots calls up Dr. Light and tells him that Mega Man needs immediate repairs. Dr. Light tells him that he will send the Air Raider to come pick him up. Roll shows up in the Air Raider a while later and picks up Mega Man, all while Rush is following then and making a siren noise. She takes him back to the laboratory for repairs.

Back at Dr. Light's lab, Mega Man is getting repaired by Dr. Light. While repairing Mega Man, Dr. Light tells him that he is very lucky that he survived the building collapse. The emergency alarm sounds and Dr. Light and Roll rush over to the main screen. The screen shows the Wily Machine heading towards an oil refinery plant. Dr. Light is very worried that the fire started by the Wily Machine could put the entire area at risk of total destruction from the explosion caused by the fires. He tells Roll to go over to the oil refinery plant to warn the workers there and to evacuate the premises. As Roll is heading off towards the plant, Dr. Light finishes repairing Mega Man. After repairing him, Dr. Light tells Mega Man about Dr. Wily's next target. Mega Man wants to get there as soon as possible, so does Dr. Light. Mega Man and Rush get back into their Fire Suits. They then go down to the vehicle garage underneath the lab and get into the Turbo Jet in order to get there faster and to hopefully beat wily to the oil refinery plant before he can set it on fire. The Turbo Jet is on a platform that takes it

up to the surface. The Turbo Jet hovers up a bit into the sky. "Time to go turbo!" Mega Man shouts out. He pulls down a lever, and the Turbo Jet fires up its four jet engines and then flies off real fast.

Meanwhile, Roll is on her way to the oil refinery plant with Eddie along for the ride. Something comes up on the Air Raider's radar, with the screen flashing red. Roll looks down at the screen. A large vehicle is coming up behind the Air Raider. "Uh oh!" Roll

cries out, "We've got company!" The Wily Machine is sneaking up behind the Air Raider. Inside the Wily Machine, Dr. Wily is aiming the large flamethrower at the Air Raider. "Time for a barbecue." Dr. Wily says as he fires the flamethrower. The flamethrower shoots out with great force. The Air Raider is hit by the flames from the flamethrower. All of the Air Raider's alarms go off in the cockpit. Roll tries to stabilize the Air Raider but to no avail. "Looks like we're going to have to eject!" Roll tells Eddie. Roll pushes the eject button, but the seats are unable to eject. "Oh! What are we going to do, Roll?" Eddie asks Roll with intense worry in his voice. "Well Eddie," Roll tells him, "We still have the Sky Jetski." She and Eddie run over to the Jetski. Roll uses her toaster attatchment to blow off the door on the back of the Air Raider. They manage to escape the Air Raider. The Air Raider burns up and its remains fall down to the ground below. "Luckily we got out of there just in time!" Roll quips. The Wily Machine then flies behind the Jetski and prepares to fire the flamethrower again. "Not again!" Roll cries out as she looks back at the Wily Machine. She flies away from the Wily Machine as fast as the Jetski can manage. The Jetski is no longer able to fly fast enough to escape the flamethrower and begins to slow down. "Oh no! I don't think we're going to make it this time, Eddie!" Roll says to Eddie, "We're toast this time!" Roll tries to fly down to dodge the flamethrower as it shoots out. Something hits the Wily Machine, causing it to wobble a bit. The wobbling causes the flamethrower to come out in short bursts instead of a single

stream of fire. The blast had actually come from the Turbo Jet as it nears the oil refinery plant. "Mega Man!" Roll cries out with hopeful happiness. The Turbo Jet then heads towards the plant. "I guess I don't have to warn them now." Roll says to herself. She then looks to Eddie and says, "But he still needs us just in case!" Roll follows the Turbo Jet towards the refinery plant.

Meanwhile, inside of the Wily Machine, Dr. Wily tells his robots that they will go down to the plant after it has been set on fire and use the fire as an opportunity to overwhelm and eventually destroy Mega Man. Guts Man, Cut Man, and Proto Man are putting on their own versions of Fire Suits while Heat Man, Fire Man, and Magma Man

fly out of the Wily Machine in Skull Helicopters and go down to the oil refinery plant to confront Mega Man. Dr. Wily tells the rest of his robots "I just love watching the world burn!" and then evilly laughs. Mega Man lands the Turbo Jet near the entrance to the oil refinery plant. Roll lands her Sky Jetski next to the jet. Roll heads off into the plant to evacuate the workers while Mega Man and Rush go around outside of the plant to ward off the Wily Machine. Mega Man hears some helicopters coming towards them. Rush barks at the copters. It is revealed that they are Skull Helicopters. Fire Man leans out of one of them and fires his weapon at Mega Man and Rush. As he fires his weapon, Fire Man says to

Mega Man "You're fired, Mega Man!" Mega Man uses the Fire Suit's water cannon to put out the weapon. Some of the water hits Fire Man, putting out the fire on the top of his head. With his head soaking wet and smoke coming out of the top of it, Fire Man angrily snaps "Now you've really burned me!" Heat Man and Magma Man fire their weapons at Mega Man also. Mega Man tells Rush "We can't let their weapons hit any of the tanks!" Rush barks and shoots some water out of the water cannon on his back and puts out the weapons before they hit them. Mega Man then switches to his arm cannon and fires some shots at the propellers on top of the Skull Helicopters. Magma Man and Heat Man's Skull Helicopters have their propellers shot off. Heat Man and Magma Man are unable to control their helicopters and therefore jump out of them. They land on the ground and run up to Mega Man with their weapons ready to fire. Mega Man aims his water cannon at them.

Magma Man laughs and tells Mega Man that a mere water cannon will not stop him and Heat Man. The water cannon opens, and a charged up plasma shot fires out of it. The shot weakens Magma Man. Mega Man then fires out another charged up plasma shot at him, finally knocking him out. Heat Man uses his weapon and envelops Mega Man in flames. The Fire Suit manages to withstand most of the weapon. Mega Man then fires the Fire Suit's water cannon at Heat Man, the pressure from the cannon causes Heat Man to fall off of the building. Heat Man falls on the lid to his body, causing the lid to crush and trap him in his own body. "That takes care of him!" Mega Man says to himself. He then goes over to the center

of the refinery plant to ambush the Wily Machine. Fire Man lands his Skull Helicopter next to Mega Man and jumps out of it to fight him. He fires some fireballs at Mega Man. Mega Man dodges the fireballs and fires a shot from his plasma cannon at him. The shot weakens him. Mega Man then finishes him off with a squirt from his Fire Suit's water cannon. After defeating Fire Man, Mega Man hears a low hum above and looks up to see the Wily Machine looming over the refinery plant. Dr. Wily tells him that it is too late, that he will burn the plant down to the ground with him along with it. Mega Man yells at him to try it. The Wily Machine's flamethrower begins to charge up. Mega Man fires his water cannon at the

flamethrower. The water goes right into the flamethrower, cooling it down. Dr. Wily is angry that Mega Man has cooled down the flamethrower. Dr. Wily sees on one of the screens that Fire Man is getting up. He orders Fire Man to fire his weapon at the oil tanks while he gets the flamethrower charged up again. Mega Man hears Fire Man lighting the oil tanks on fire and runs over to stop him. Fire Man sees Mega Man coming towards the oil tanks and fires his weapon at him. Mega Man's Fire Suit takes most of the damage from the weapon. Mega Man then fires a fully charged shot at Fire Man and knocks him out. Mega Man then uses the water cannon to put out the fires. He then hears the Wily Machine flying over to the other oil tanks on the other side of the refinery plant. "Oh no!" Mega Man says out loud, "He's firing up the flamethrower again!" Mega Man whistles to Rush and Rush comes over and turns into his jet mode. They fly over to the Wily Machine.

The Wily Machine is setting two of the oil tanks one fire with its flamethrower. A shocked Mega Man fires a fully powered blast at the Wily Machine. The Wily Machines suffers some damage from the blast. Dr. Wily angrily commands Guts Man, Cut Man, and Proto Man to go down onto the ground and set the other parts of the refinery plant on fire with their own personal flamethrowers as a way to distract Mega Man while he uses the Wily Machine's flamethrower. Guts Man, Cut Man, and Proto Man jump out of the Wily Machine with Fire Suits on and each one of them wielding a rifle-like flamethrower. After landing on the ground, Proto Man says to the other robots, "Let's roast this place!" He and the others go off in separate directions and start setting things on fire with their flamethrowers. Mega Man manages to fire another fully powered shot at the Wily Machine, but then sees Dr. Wily's robots staring more fires. Mega Man feels a little overwhelmed with the multiple fires going on at the same time. He calls up Dr. Light on his arm cannon and tells him to get every firefighting vehicle he can to the plant as Dr. Wily and his robots are setting off multiple fires at once. Dr. Light tells him that several fire vehicles are already on their way. Mega Man tells him he will do his best to stop Dr. Wily and his robots. He and Rush then go over to the bad robots. "I'm putting an end to your arson attempts!" Mega Man yells at them. The bad robots look at each other with evil smiles on their faces and aim their flamethrowers at Mega Man and Rush and shoot streams of flames at them. Mega Man jumps over the flames as he would rather not take the force of the fire as his Fire Suit may not be able to withstand it and still be able to function. Rush flies over the flames and grabs Proto Man's flamethrower with his mouth. Proto Man fires his plasma cannon at Rush. Rush shields himself from the shot by holding the flamethrower in front of himself. The shot destroys the flamethrower. Mega Man jumps behind Guts Man and fires a shot from his plasma cannon at him. Guts Man turns around and yells out to him "I'm gettin' a cravin' for barbecued Blue Dweeb!" He fires his flamethrower at Mega Man. Mega Man fires a plasma shot into the flamethrower, plugging it up. The backed up flamethrower begins to glow white as it overheats. It then explodes in Guts Man's hands, blowing off the top of his Fire Suit. Guts Man angrily says to Mega Man, "Arrgh! I don't need no stinkin' suit or flamethrower to crush you!" He runs towards Mega Man and tries to punch him with his Super Arm. Mega Man fires a fully charged shot at his head. The blast shoots his helmet off, revealing that he has a dirty blonde buzzcut hairstyle. Guts Man is momentarily surprised that he has blasted his helmet off. Mega Man uses his state of surprise as an opportunity to finish him off with a fully-powered plasma blast to his chest. The blast finally knocks him out. Mega Man goes over to him and copies his Super Arm weapon. Cut Man walks up to him and aims his flamethrower at him. "Ahe ahe ahe! Roast robot! My favorite!" Cut Man says as he fires his flamethrower at Mega Man. Mega Man avoids the flames and uses his Super Arm weapon to snatch the flamethrower away from Cut Man. "Sorry, Cut Man!" Mega Man says to him, "We're out of roast robot!" He breaks up the flamethrower into pieces and uses his Super Arm to rip up a large piece of earth. He then says to Cut Man as he is holding the large piece of earth over his head, "But we have plenty of Super Arm!" He then throws the piece of earth at Cut Man, crushing him. Mega Man goes over to him and copies his Rolling Cutter weapon. Proto Man sees that he has defeated both Guts Man and Cut Man, and decides to go over to the Wily Machine instead of confronting Mega Man. He tells Dr. Wily that Mega Man is defeating them one by one. Dr. Wily simply tells him to distract him. Proto Man argues with him that he has both Guts Man and Cut Man's weapons and will very likely use them against him. Dr. Wily tells him "But I thought you wanted to destroy your brother!" Proto Man argues back "Yeah, but it looks like the odds are against me this time!" Dr. Wily commands him to go back out and fight him and that arguing with him is of no use. Proto Man groans and goes back out to where Mega Man is.

Meanwhile, Mega Man is using his Fire Suit's water cannon to put out the fires that were set by Dr. Wily's robots. Rush is also using his Fire Suit's cannon to put out the fires. Mega Man and Rush hear the fire fighting vehicles arriving with sirens blaring. They are very happy to see them coming up to the refinery plant to fight the flames. In the Wily Machine, Dr. Wily hears the fire fighting vehicles arriving and decides to use the flamethrower on them instead. "This will teach them to try to interfere with my arson attempt!" Dr. Wily says to himself as he aims the flamethrower at them. Mega Man and Rush are shocked to see that they Wily Machine is going to fire its flamethrower at them fire vehicles. They run over to the Wily Machine to stop it. "Oh no you don't!" Mega Man shouts out as he and Rush approach the Wily Machine. Proto Man runs over to them and aims his flamethrower at them. "I'm still up and running, Mega Bro!" Proto Man says to Mega Man. He then says, "...and so is my toaster!" and fires the flamethrower at Mega Man. Mega Man dodges the flames and uses his Rolling Cutter weapon to slice up the flamethrower into pieces. Proto Man then resorts to his plasma cannon and fires some shots at Mega Man. Mega Man uses his Super Arm and hits Proto Man with it, causing him to be knocked back and slammed against the side of the Wily Machine. The impact severely damages him, but he is still able to fight back against Mega Man. "Like I said, Mega Man, I'm still up and running!" Proto Man says to him as he charges up his plasma cannon. He fires a fully powered blast at Mega Man, but Mega Man dodges the shot somehow. Mega Man then says to Proto Man, "Not anymore!" and fires a shot at him, finally knocking him out. Dr. Wily sees on one of his monitors that his robots have been defeated by Mega Man. He also sees that most of the fires have been put out. He sees that Roll is helping the plant's human and robot workers evacuate. He decides to turn his machine's flamethrower on them. The Wily Machine flies over to where Roll and the others are. One of the firemen yells out to Mega Man that they need to stop the Wily Machine quickly. Mega Man and Rush fly over to where the Wily Machine is. They then fly in front of it. Mega Man aims his cannon at the machine and exclaims, "Your roasting session is over, Wily!" Dr. Wily tells him that the carnage has just begun. He turns up the flamethrower's power to maximum, and the flamethrower begins to heat up very quickly and brightly. Mega Man realizes that he has to think of a way to finally destroy the flamethrower quickly. He uses his Super Arm to crush up the flamethrower at the cost of his Fire Suit. The intense heat of the flamethrower causes Mega Man's Fire Suit to quickly fail. Mega Man and Rush quickly fly back as Mega Man's Fire Suit fails. The flamethrower has been forced by Mega Man back into the Wily Machine, causing the Wily Machine to overheat as the flamethrower finally disengages. Dr. Wily quickly gets into his Wily Capsule and flies out of the Wily Machine as it heats up and explodes. The heated up pieces of the Wily Machine smash into different parts of the refinery plant. A giant piece comes hurtling towards Mega Man and Rush. Mega Man blasts it into pieces with his plasma cannon. The pieces cool down and crumble. "Looks like Wily's goose is cooked!" Mega Man says out loud. Rush barks in victory. With the last of the flames finally put out, Mega Man and the fire chiefs congratulate each other. Rush and a dalmatian congratulate each other also. The episode ends with the two dogs high-fiving each other.

[sweetness47]

Undeniable Fatality

Pairings: Alpha! Sam x Serial killer! Reader, Alpha! Castiel x Serial killer! Reader

@deanandsambingo​ – serial killer AU

@spnkinkbingo​ – dom/sub

@spnabobingo​ – growling/whining

WARNINGS: MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY!!! POSSIBLE TRIGGERS, DARK THEMES…serial killer, smut, fingering, murderous themes, language, attempted murder, abo themes, character deaths

Detective Dean Winchester looked at the large folder on his desk, a huge sigh escaping his lips as he scanned the contents inside. The “Temptress”, an elusive serial killer, presumably female, one that had managed to so far to elude capture. She was good at avoiding cameras, and had been leaving a trail of bodies for 3 years now. She’d earned her name after noting all the victims had sex right before they died.

No motive had been established. None of the victims had anything in common. It was frustrating as hell for Dean, who’d earned the rank of Detective early in his career. His brother Sam, a firefighter, wanted to save lives in a different way. He loved the thrill that came with the danger, and he was also a hero to many he’d saved over the years. He was supposed to get promoted to Fire chief this week, and had sent invites to Dean, and to Cas, their life long friend and room mate.

Cas, a mechanic by trade, now the owner of a successful auto body shop, was taking the day off. He was at the local bar, having a noon cocktail. He was currently at a hotel room with a woman he’d met there, and they were getting naked faster than gale force winds. He growled, smelling her Omega scent, the enticing fragrance luring him to her, the need to consume her overriding all other senses. She whined, whimpering at his strength, his dominance of her, the way he took her to the bed, drove his hard cock into her.

He crushed her lips with his own, fucking her hard into the soft mattress. His cries of release mirrored hers as he knotted her, his load filling the condom he’d sheathed his cock with. Her body shook with the aftershocks of the orgasm that had swept through, leaving her purring and happily sated.

He rolled off her finally, holding her close. He never felt the needle pierce his skin, the tiny metal piece too small to be noticed. It was on her bracelet, the one she’d worn during the whole afternoon. He fell into a deep slumber, and that’s when she got up, wiping off his mouth and his fingers, his nails, and taking the condom. Every single piece of evidence that could even remotely be linked to her was removed with precision and skill.

The hotel clerk would later tell the police the woman was medium height, dark hair, bright lipstick, expensive taste in clothing. The woman who left the hotel shortly after her victim slept was blonde, wore no make up, regular clothing, hat, sunglasses. She smiled to herself as she walked outside into the sunlight. The nickname the media had given her was awesome. She sounded like a super villain. She supposed in a way she was. She never really knew why she was like this, why she liked to seduce men then kill them. She supposed it was the same reason that had her liking horror and suspense films, studying law and crimes. Maybe she thought of it as a game, like Clue, or more cat and mouse, and the thought of being hunted thrilled her to no end.

~~

Sam called Dean first. He’d gotten a call from the hospital, as Sam was listed as Castiel’s emergency contact. Dean dropped everything and met Sam at the emergency entrance. Castiel had been admitted in critical condition, his life fading fast. His breathing was shallow, his skin pale, clammy. Doctors worked around the clock trying to figure out was wrong, sending blood panels and tests, hoping to find a cure for whatever ailed their friend.

Castiel James Novak died at 12:37am, not 6 hours after being admitted. Hotel staff found his body, barely alive, and had called 911. He was naked, and the coroner confirmed he’d had sex right before his death.

Dean was furious. “Son of a bitch. I swear I will find this killer, and I will make her pay Sam. She won’t get away from me again. Not this time.”

Sam hugged his brother. “I know Dean. I know.”

They cried and hugged. They grieved and planned the wake. They were still in shock the day of the life celebration. Their friend had been murdered. And the bitch who did it was still in the city, probably planning her next kill. Did she even plan? Or was it random choosing, letting fate decide who she would poison next.

Sam left early. He was distraught. He went to the tavern next door. His plan was to drink himself into oblivion. He was about three beers and three tequila shots in when she came to sit down beside him. He found himself pouring his heart out to her, she listened as he talked about the friend he’d lost. She comforted him, bought him another round. By the time round four finished, she had him laughing, and for a small time, forgetting about the funeral, about Cas.

She helped him to a hotel room, giving him a place to sleep the alcohol off, to rest. He asked her to stay, and she did, giving him a different kind of comfort. When he growled, the strong Alpha that made her weak, she whined, submitting to her nature. He slept content after, and she quietly left, applying some heavy make up, a pink wig, and a beige trench coat. Nothing at all like the petite blonde who’d taken pity on a drunk and helped him.

The bartender went up to check on him not three hours later and found him alone, and unresponsive. Dean got the call at 3 am. His brother had been admitted to emergency, with the exact same symptoms as Cas.

She’d gotten to Sam.

Whether by accident or on purpose, he wasn’t sure. What he did know was she had made the final mistake of her ‘career’. He knew Sam had gone to the tavern next door, and Dean knew the bartender. They’d shared many a happy hour together over the years. Upon questioning him, Dean got the description of the woman who had gone with Sam. He went to the room, found the wig she’d somehow left behind, the first clue that actually might help with something.

He was given access to the security footage. She managed to avoid the security cameras, well all the ones she knew about. The bartender had installed a secret camera to keep a better eye on the liquor. In one brief frame, he caught a blonde, petite, walking over to Sam. Zooming in, he saw her face, plastered with makeup, but basic facial structure.

He knew what she looked like, well enough to narrow down the field considerably.

Watching the footage for any women exiting, the only one that really stood out was a woman with pink hair, trench coat, and different make up.

He put out a silent APB on the female. Then he went out himself. She would have to be staying close by, easy escape from the cops. There was also a possibility of her having more than one escape location. By god, he would find her tonight, and he would put an end to her body count.

And he would get the antidote from her.

She had to have one. Just in case, for whatever reason, she sticks herself with the poison, she would carry a cure. And he would get it. For Sam.

The BOLO came over the radio, a woman matching the description had been spotted near the airport. The bitch was making a run for it.

He laughed at the idea that she thought she could get away from him this time.

He made record time, pulling up to the departure section 15 minutes after getting the tip. All flights had been grounded, citing mechanical issues. It was enough. She tried to leave by the emergency exits, and walked right into Dean’s arms.

“Where is it? Where’s the fucking antidote bitch?”

She smiled. “No where you have access to dick head.”

Dean frowned. She was way too cocky. Then it struck him. “Your blood. You’re immune to the poison. Don’t know how, but it’s in your blood. So then your blood has the cure too.”

Quicker than lightning, he cuffed her and dragged her to his car. Pushing his vehicle past safety regulation, he got to the hospital, dragging her in with him. “Sam Winchester, poison, her blood has the cure.”

Doctors took her and grabbed blood samples. They injected Sam with it, studied the effects even as labs worked furiously to get it separated, analyzed.

YN was sent to maximum security women’s prison. Sam stayed in the hospital for two days following the injection. Dean was decorated a hero. It was finally over, the river of terror, Temptress was finished. Forever.

[thewebofslime]

Deaf Islamic convert is named as Paris police HQ attacker: IT worker who fell out with supervisor 'after he refused to deal with women' slaughters four colleagues, including female officer, with a knife - as police arrest Muslim wife Michael Harpon, 45, stabbed and killed four colleagues with a ceramic knife The knifeman was shot dead in the courtyard of the Paris police headquarters Colleagues said he had worked there for 20 years and had security clearance Union bosses described the attack as a 'moment of madness' and internal row Anti-terror agencies are 'evaluating' the situation, the Paris prosecutor said Emmanuel Macron has gone to the police headquarters to show his 'solidarity' By JACK NEWMAN and TIM STICKINGS and PETER ALLEN IN PARIS FOR MAILONLINE and AFP PUBLISHED: 07:34 EDT, 3 October 2019 | UPDATED: 13:35 EDT, 3 October 2019 e-mail 3.7k shares 514 View comments A deaf civilian police worker who had recently converted to Islam was shot dead in Paris today after murdering four colleagues with a ceramic knife following a 'dispute over working with female colleagues'. Michael Harpon, 45, caused the bloodbath in the French capital's historic Police Prefecture, next door to Notre Dame Cathedral. Investigators have not ruled out a possible terrorist motivation for the Thursday afternoon attack, which left a woman and three men dead. All were repeatedly stabbed by Harpon, who had worked in the IT department at the Prefecture since 2003, in the worst loss of French police lives in a single day since World War II. Harpon had recently been reprimanded by his female boss over his refusal to interact with women, Actu17 reported. Within hours of the attack, anti-terrorist officers had raided Harpon's flat in an apartment block at Gonesse, a suburb some 12 miles from the scene of the attack. His wife, Iham, was arrested, as an investigating source said that the nature of Harpon's attack corresponded with similar ones carried out by terrorists affiliated to Islamic State and Al-Qaeda. +16 The Paris knifeman lies dead on the ground in the courtyard of police headquarters after killing four officers in a rampage today +16 French police secure the area in front of the police headquarters in Paris after a knife attack which killed four including at least one policewoman on Thursday +16 The attack took place at the Paris police headquarters in the historic centre of the city, near the fire-ravaged Notre Dame cathedral +16 French police secure the area in front of the Paris police headquarters after the knife rampage today Video playing bottom right... Click here to expand to full page Loaded: 0%Progress: 0%0:11 Pause Unmute Current Time0:11 / Duration Time0:21 Fullscreen Expand Close 'An investigation has been launched into a grudge the assailant may have held against his colleagues, but terrorism cannot be ruled out,' said the source. 'Many of those involved in similar attacks on the police have been Muslim converts influenced by radical terrorist groups.' Christophe Crépin, spokesman for the union France Police Policeman in Anger, told The Telegraph: 'I know this man. He worked in IT and he had long-running problems with his superior. He stabbed her first and then colleagues intervened and were stabbed as well. I am told he then got hold of a firearm.' Harpon, who was deaf since childhood, was originally from the Caribbean island of Martinique – a French overseas territory. He had been married since 2014, and converted to his wife's religion in 2018 before they had their first child together. An eye witness to the attack, which happened just after 1pm, said: 'I saw a man with a knife in his hand. 'He was running after a policeman. He was told to drop his knife, but he did not stop and the policeman fired. 'At first I thought it was a training exercise, but no. The policeman, who was on a break, shouted out three warnings, but the assailant would not stop. The police officer fired two shots and then the assailant fell.' Harpon originally attacked three male officers in two offices on the first floor of the Prefecture, and then took his knife to two females – one died, and another was seriously injured. None of Harpon's victims have been identified by name. A ceramic knife would not have activated metal detectors, and Harpon would not have been searched. Harpon worked directly to the Directorate of Intelligence of the Prefecture of Police, or DRPP. +16 An air ambulance flies over the Seine as emergency services respond to the knife rampage in Paris on Thursday +16 Emergency personnel stand near an air ambulance helicopter on the Pont Marie in Paris RELATED ARTICLES Previous 1 Next Donald Trump insists there's 'no war room' at the White... Ukraine's former top prosecutor claims he was told to back... SHARE THIS ARTICLE Share Colleagues described Harpon as a previously trusted employee who had full security clearance and had never caused problems before. The security crisis led to President Emmanuel Macron immediately visiting the Prefecture in person, along with his Prime Minister, Edouard Philippe, and Interior Minister Christophe Castaner. Paris prosecutor Remy Heitz said anti-terror authorities were 'evaluating' the situation and said a murder investigation had been launched. Prosecutor Mr Heitz told reporters at the scene that three of the dead were police officers and the fourth was an administrative assistant. A police union official had said earlier that all four were police officers. In the aftermath of the attack today: President Emmanuel Macron went to police headquarters to show his 'solidarity' with the force; Witnesses described a 'panic' as gunshots rang out and weeping police officers came running out of an office; The attacker was said to have started his rampage in an office before moving to a stairwell and then the courtyard where he was shot dead; Police were searching the home of the suspect, who was described as a trusted employee of 20 years' experience at police headquarters; France's interior minister said a wounded police employee was undergoing emergency surgery; Authorities cordoned off the scene with emergency vehicles, an air ambulance and a patrol boat on the Seine. Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo confirmed that 'several people' were fatally wounded in the force's worst loss of life on a single day since World War II. According to union officials, the attack began around 1pm in an office and spread out elsewhere in the large police compound near Notre Dame cathedral. Reports said the man had attacked at least one woman in a stairwell before moving on to the courtyard where he was shot dead. Emery Siamandi, an employee at police headquarters, said he heard gunshots and saw two weeping officers running out of a room. A third officer, described by Mr Siamandi as the policeman who shot and killed the assailant, came out on his knees, also in tears. 'People were running everywhere, there was crying everywhere,' said Mr Siamandi, an interpreter who was in the building when the attack happened. 'I heard a shot, I gathered it was inside,' he said. 'Moments later, I saw police officers crying. They were in a panic.' An investigating source said the attacker 'was involved in an argument with someone and then erupted in anger, targeting other police colleagues before being neutralised.' +16 Paramedics walk by firefighter vehicles near Paris police headquarters where the attack took place on Thursday afternoon Paris prosecutors confirmed later in the afternoon that one woman and three men had died in the attack. France's interior minister said a wounded police employee was undergoing emergency surgery this afternoon. Actu17 reported that a female officer, likely the same one, was 'gravely injured' after the rampage. 'Another colleague is in a state of shock (...) and the person behind the attack has been shot by another colleague,' said union official Yves Lefebvre. According to BFM, authorities are now searching the 45-year-old's home while his wife has reportedly been taken into custody. Loic Travers, another union official, said the suspected attacker was an administrative worker in the police intelligence unit. He had been working there for 20 years and had never caused any problems before, Mr Travers said. Interior Minister Christophe Castaner said the attacker had 'never shown any behaviour problems'. The police were 'particularly stricken by this exceptionally grave incident', he said. Christophe Crepin of the Police Up In Anger movement told franceinfo radio that the assailant had experienced issues with his supervisor. 'I know there were tensions between him and his direct supervisor,' he said. 'I do not think this is a terrorist act.' Helicopter called after fatal stabbing of four policemen in Paris Loaded: 0%Progress: 0%0:00 Previous Play Skip Mute Current Time0:00 / Duration Time0:28 Fullscreen Need Text The suspect, who has not yet been named, had full security clearance and was considered a trusted employee. He was described in Le Figaro as a computer scientist born in Martinique who had a hearing impairment. The motives of the attack are not yet known, but investigators suspect that a workplace row was behind it and one spokesman said it appeared to be an 'internal dispute'. An official at the prosecutor's anti-terrorism office said that for now his office was not leading the investigation. 'Did he snap, or was there some other reason? It's still too early to say,' Mr Travers, who is head of the Alliance Police union for the Paris region, told BFM television. Jean-Marc Bailleul, another police union leader, described the incident as criminal rather than an act of terror. 'It was a moment of madness,' he said. +16 Military forces establish a security perimeter near Paris police headquarters +16 Police officers patrol in a rubber boat on the Seine river after the knife rampage on Thursday +16 Military personnel are surrounded by emergency vehicles as they respond to the attack today A witness to the attack told the local Parisien newspaper: 'I heard a shot, I think it was around 12.30. Around me, there were only policemen. 'They immediately unsheathed their weapons. I was very surprised to hear these shots because this is not the place where we imagine that this can happen. 'I first thought of a suicide because there are many in the police force at the moment. And then a few moments later I saw policewomen in tears. 'I thought it must be serious. The police were in panic, they were running everywhere. Many people were crying.' The premises were cordoned off after the lunchtime attack and dozens of police and emergency vehicles converged at the scene. An emergency message was broadcast over loudspeakers at the court of justice next door, announcing 'an attack' at the police headquarters and stating the area was 'under surveillance'. An air ambulance also landed on a bridge across the Seine and the nearest metro station was shut for security reasons, the transport authority said. A police spokesman said he had no comment on the incident and there has still been no official word from the force. Interior Minister Christophe Castaner, who was due to visit Turkey later on Thursday, postponed his trip to visit the scene of the attack. +16 Emergency vehicles in Paris on Thursday near the police headquarters where the rampage unfolded today +16 The premises were cordoned off around lunchtime, and emergency services were quickly at the scene +16 Police vehicles are parked near the headquarters and the nearby metro station has been closed Yesterday thousands of French police demonstrated in Paris for better working conditions, in the wake of a spate of suicides in the force, but there is no indication that today's attack was related. Organisers estimated that 27,000 officers took part, out of 150,000 police staff nationwide. The force has been stretched to the limit by a year of 'yellow vest' protests against Emmanuel Macron and officers have been accused of heavy-handed tactics. France has been by a succession of attacks since 2015 including co-ordinated terror attacks and lone-wolf knife and gun attacks. The country remains on high alert after these attacks. In January 2015, two men armed with Kalashnikov rifles stormed the Paris offices of satirical weekly Charlie Hebdo, killing 12 people. A policewoman was killed just outside Paris the following day, while a gunman took hostages at a Jewish supermarket, four of whom were killed. On November 15 that year, France was hit by the worst terror attacks in its history. Islamic State jihadists armed with assault rifles and explosives struck outside a France-Germany football match at the national stadium, Paris cafes, and the Bataclan concert hall in a coordinated assault that left 130 people dead and more than 350 wounded. On July 14, 2016 a Tunisian ploughed a truck through a large crowd gathered for Bastille Day fireworks in the Mediterranean city of Nice. The attack killed 86 people and injured more than 400.

[faveficarchive]

Requiem for a Bitch

Part 5 of Vivian Darkbloom’s White Trash series

By Vivian Darkbloom

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Gabrielle’s other sister comes into town and stirs up as much trouble as possible.

I’m gonna put a CW here for people who may need it: there’s absolutely homophobia in this story, and also just keep in mind that this story is honestly really true to the culture represented, and the times. 

"She would of been a good woman," the Misfit said, "if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life."

—Flannery O'Connor, "A Good Man is Hard to Find"

1. Stroll Around the Grounds Until You Feel at Home

It was a joke.

This was what she thought at first. The matron came in, and said that she would be released in a week. Sure, there would be meetings with the therapists, and the medical board, and all that, but it was pretty much a done deal. State cutbacks, the matron said. And you're an adult now. You don't need a waiver from your parents. You're free. Isn't it nice? You can get a job and an apartment and a boyfriend and you can wear whatever you want and do whatever you want and watch whatever you want on TV without Cindy Sue Deaver going nuts if it's not Full House and you can eat whatever you want and rest assured that there aren't behavior-modifying drugs in it—or are there? And the windows didn't have bars on them unless you ended up living in a real crappy, scary neighborhood. And nobody's telling you what to do. Right? Unless it's a boss or a government or a landlord.

Was the outside world really so different? she wondered. She would find out.

So they gave her money for the bus and food, and new clothes. She had to wear something "nice." Although how a beige skirt from Sears and an white blouse yellowed with age qualified as nice, she had no way of imagining. Maybe fashion had changed radically in the last 15 years, and Sears was now on par with Calvin Klein and Jordache.

The world was indeed a scary place.

She didn't say goodbye to anyone, and flipped the finger to the matron and wished death, famine, and endless curses among various inhabitants, including those who thought they had reformed her, had changed her somehow. They hadn't. Stupid fucking doctors. She dragged a small suitcase, filled mostly with packs of cigarettes and soap and towels and other stuff she swiped from the supply closet before leaving.

The bus stop was in front of some ghostly crafts store haunted with the remains of faddish hobbies. It was hot and in a fit of pique she ripped off the nylons she was wearing with the skirt, oblivious to the looks from the old lady in the crafts store, and tossed them in the trash. She rarely copped to emotions other than homicidal, spiteful glee, but she had to admit she just a bit curious to see home, and how everything had changed, and—most of all—how they would all react to her being back.

She shrugged in answer to this conversation in her head, and lit a cigarette. The bus lumbered to the curb, its doors opened, and she climbed in, glaring at the driver, daring the old man to say anything about "no smoking."

*****

The bus let her out about three blocks from Bob's Garage, near the outskirts of town. She walked lazily down familiar streets—too familiar, she thought with disappointment. All this time, and nothing's really changed. Well, what the hell did you expect? So if that's true, Purdy—the damn idiot—should still be working at the garage. And if he's still there...the thought trailed off, mercifully. She just couldn't think about it all right now.

Nonetheless, curiosity won out, and she found herself at the garage, on the pretext of getting a Coke from the machine outside. Then she walked into the dark cavern of the garage. A pair of blue-jeaned legs sprawled out from under some ancient car. Before she could announce her presence, a pair of arms grabbed her from behind.

The world whirled around her, and she found herself sitting atop a metal tool chest and face to face with a grinning, gum-chewing, blue-eyed, androgynous angel wearing a baseball cap backward. "Hiya, baby," the Angel said, declaring her gender in a low but decidedly feminine purr.

Before she could say anything, the Angel devoured her mouth with a greedy kiss, resplendent with lots of rolling tongue, breath, and moistness. Frantic at being kissed by this freak (yes, a freak, and no, I'm not enjoying this, I can't be), she placed her hands on the hard shoulders facing hers and shoved violently.

Contact was broken. The Angel was momentarily thrown off her Zen High Horse. "What's wrong, baby? Don't pay no attention to Purdy." The dark head bobbed in the direction of the legs under the car.

"Don't pay no attention to me," Purdy echoed from under the vehicle.

It was then that she realized that she was now chewing the Angel's gum. "Ack!" she cried, and spat, sending the little gum projectile through the air and onto the dark, greasy floor.

The dark Angel was grinning at her again. Furious, she smacked the creature—hard—across the face.

Purdy groaned, whether from arousal or empathy, it could not be discerned.

It was like bitch-slapping a rock. The baseball chapeau didn't even budge. And the woman laughed heartily. "You're pretty feisty today, Gabrielle," she growled pleasantly, maneuvering an oily hand under the Sears skirt.

Somehow she escaped these foul attentions—she managed to worm around the tall woman and bolted for the exit. She snatched her suitcase from outside, and ran down the street.

Gabrielle?

The name reverberated like an engine gunned over and over.

My sister is a dyke now? Well, now, that's definitely new.

It was an intriguing homecoming for Hope Hockenberry.

*****

Scant seconds after Hope's sudden departure from the garage, Purdy deemed it safe to emerge from his grimy underworld, where he had found himself getting steadily aroused. He had calmed himself with visions of Johnny Cash nude, and was now ready—and curious—to face the world. "What the hell was that about?" he remarked to Zina as he wheeled himself out from the car.

He stood up and saw the firefighter absently rubbing her tingling cheek. She shrugged, took off her cap, thus liberating the rest of her long hair. "I dunno. She gets awful fruity during this time of the month, if you know what I mean." Zina carefully avoided any blatant mention of tampons, menstruation, blood, female cycle, uterus—knowing that Purdy was indeed like all men and crumpled at the mere mention of the female reproductive cycle and its attendant paraphernalia.

"Before, during, and after, it seems like," he muttered. He sighed, and wiped his hands with a rag. "Anyway, thanks for helping me here, with this one." Purdy nodded at the car. "Appreciate it."

"No problem. I was dyin' to get under that hood for a long time."

"Bet you've used that line before."

She laughed, and straddled her Harley. "Later," she said with a kickstart.

2. The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Mane

The salon was called the "The Clip Club," its original owner being a disenchanted lesbian exile from Staten Island. But now the shop had passed into the hands of a permanently bitter middle-aged gay alcoholic who had never been out of Olympus County. Nonetheless, it was the best hairdressers' in the area, and Gabrielle had been getting her bangs and split ends trimmed there ever since she'd been out of high school and had finally wearied of Lila's jagged little cuts.

Hair freshly shampooed, the little poet waited patiently for her regular stylist while reading Redbook or, more precisely, carefully examining a photo layout of the latest lingerie styles for the fall. Finally, she felt a comb running through her damp locks.

"Shirley, I just need everything trimmed—" Gabrielle looked up, and jumped violently. Her regular hairdresser was not in front of her; rather, Natalie—she of the Shimmy Shack and dubious academic reputation—stood before her, twirling a pair of scissors. And dropping them, thus narrowly missing her own sandalled foot. Natalie hopped awkwardly, then grinned sheepishly. "Hi, Gabrielle."

"Uh, hi, Natalie." Her skin crawled. "Where's Shirley?"

"Trying to cash her girlfriend's welfare check."

"Again? Like she needs another tattoo!"

"Yeah. Anyway, she's out the rest of the day. But I just started working here!" Natalie smiled proudly.

"When?"

"Yesterday, in fact. And, um, I'm free now, so I could do you." The ex-professor wiggled her eyebrows.

"I dunno, Natalie. It's been a while since I've let anyone else cut my hair." Protectively she clutched a sheaf of her blonde hair. She wouldn't even let Zina trim her hair. Especially not switchblade-enamored Zina.

"Come on, Gabrielle. I'm trying to behave myself now. I'm not stripping, I'm not harassing anyone. I mean, look at me. I'm just trying to make a living here." She pouted in a fairly effective manner. "I think everyone deserves a second chance, don't you?" she threw in plaintively.

Oh damn. Gabrielle's shrug was more of a massive, neurotic body twitch. "Yeah, I guess." Can't argue with that. It wouldn't be fair. Zina got a second chance, and a third, and a fourth, and then a lot of parole time. "Okay, Natalie," she sighed.

The former stripper grinned with delight. "Wonderful!" She walked behind Gabrielle, and gently ran her hands through the poet's wet hair. "I really appreciate this," she purred.

"No problem." Gabrielle shifted nervously in her seat. "I just want it trimmed, okay?"

"Uh-huh." The tips of Natalie's fingers gently scraped against Gabrielle's temple. Then the soft pads began working their magic in earnest, exuding a delicate, massaging pressure that made the poet's body tingle and puddle into mushy nothingness.

"Feel good?" Natalie's voice dropped an octave, and Gabrielle's flooded senses grabbed at the deep tones like a life preserver, mistaking the huskiness for Zina's own rich burr.

"Mmmm, yeah, baby." Gabrielle's own voice fell into a low Austin Powers intonation.

"I knew you'd like that." The voice burrowed into even sweeter depths.

Before Gabrielle knew it, someone sounding like Barry White was telling her that she needed a new hairstyle: "Uh-huh. Child, I bet you've had this same style since you were in middle school. And all through high school. Didn’t you? You had this hairstyle when you smoked your first joint. You had this hairstyle when you flunked your first French test. You had this hairstyle when you lost your virginity to that boyfriend of yours in the bed of his pickup truck, with your head banging against the thin dirty blanket where his dog usually slept and which barely cushioned the metal, in time to the AC/DC blaring from the tape deck while you were secretly thinking of Kate Jackson. Am I right or am I right, girlfriend?"

*****

As Gabrielle exited the salon, she couldn't stop running her hands through her hair: It was so…short. She had awakened from a brief, bleary state of unconsciousness to the sight of herself, in the mirror, with this dashing little pixie haircut. "I only know one style," Natalie had said afterward, in an attempt at an apology, and pointed feebly at her own head.

Gabrielle rushed down the sidewalk in an anxious haze. How I love your hair, Zina had mumbled the other night. It was the closest thing to poetry her taciturn lover had ever uttered, and there weren't even no metaphors or similes or even' fuckin' adjectives for Christ's sake but it's all I got, and now it's gone!

When she reached the garage, Purdy was sitting in his "office," watching baseball. "Purdy!" she shouted. He jumped, and started to rummage through a desk drawer.

"You damn idiot, I'm not a mugger," she snapped. "And if I were, you'd be dead by now."

He stared at her. "Gabrielle? What the hell happened to your hair?"

"I got it cut," she said defiantly, as if it had been a premeditated plan of action.

"Huh," Purdy mused. That was quick. She went, got her hair cut, and changed her clothes, he thought, taking in the short tresses, the baggy jeans, the Carhart jacket. "You're really goin' whole hog into the lesbian look, huh?"

"Not quite," she muttered. She had drawn a mental line in the sand at those funny sandals. "Where's Zina?"

"She's gone."

"Dammit, she was supposed to wait for me!" Gabrielle fumed. "I need her for the video store."

"For Blockbuster? Why?"

"Not Blockbuster. We don't go there. Cyrene says it's an evil corporation."

He frowned, confused. "If you don't go to Blockbuster…" he trailed off. And his eyes widened. "Oh Jesus," he whispered. "You don't go to…"

"Yes," replied Gabrielle solemnly. "We go to Him."

He was the Sarcastic Hippie Video Store Guy, who worked at the tiny video store in town which seemed to have no name (unlike the Clip Club). But it didn't matter, because everybody knew who Sarcastic Hippie Video Store Guy was and where he worked.

Gabrielle hated going to the "independent" (as Cyrene called it) video store by herself, because Sarcastic Hippie Video Store Guy always delighted in giving her a particularly hard time; however, he wouldn't dare do so when she was accompanied by Zina, who once, in a shameless show of prowess, bit the head off a cardboard display of Billy Crystal.

And now she had to face Him all alone.

*****

Gabrielle spent several minutes working up the courage to approach Him all by her lonesome. She cruised the dusty aisles, pretending to look for something else in addition to the box she already clutched. She cast a glance at Him. His hippie head was bent and He looked engrossed in the copy of Spin on the counter, but she knew Him. She knew He was just trying to fake her out. He was watching her every move.

She stood at the counter, and carefully shoved the empty video carton in his direction. He did not look up.

"Long week, no see," He drawled.

Gabrielle said nothing.

Head still down, He continued: "Wild Things again?"

"No." She kicked herself mentally for responding to Him. Don’t encourage Him, that’s what Zina always said.

"Or is it a hard core night? Or how about that Rashomon of the modern day porn, The Sapphic Schoolgirls of Sydney?"

She did not respond to this taunt, and was unsure of how much longer she could hold out.

"If I recall correctly, you’ve rented that one 23 times in the last three months."

Employing the use of her middle finger, she flicked the video box so that it rolled over right onto Spin, or more specifically, a big color photo of Korn.

He stared at it. "Beaches," he murmured aloud. Finally, he turned his blue eyes to her. And smiled. Was it a genuine smile? Or another smirk? It was hard to tell, his face was so obscured by the dark, shaggy beard. He leaned toward her, over the counter, as if ready to divulge a confession. "Every time I see this movie, I cry like a baby," he whispered in her ear.

She blinked, still wary of him. "Really?" she asked cautiously.

He nodded. She thought his eyes glistened with unshed tears. He was squishing his lips together and frowning like Tom Hanks. "Really."

Gabrielle was amazed. He is human after all! She laid a hand on the soft fur of his forearm. At that moment he reminded her of the cocker spaniel she had when she was 7. "Why? Tell me," she urged gently.

He sniffled a little. "I don’t know if I can."

"Maybe you’ll feel better if you tell me." She squeezed his arm.

He took a deep, steadying breath. "Because every time I see it, I realize how fucked up Barbara Hershey’s career is."

Gabrielle saw the triumphant Gotcha! in his eyes, and she took the video box and rapped him—but not terribly hard—on the skull with it. "You asshole."

He straightened, startled. "Violence is not the way, Miss Hockenberry."

"You want violence? I’ll give you violence. I’ll go home and tell my girlfriend you bugged me and she’ll twist you into a pretzel. How’s that for violence?"

Girlfriend? Not…Her! He blurted fearfully, "You mean the Kansas City Bomber?" He had taken to calling Zina that ever since she came into the store one day wearing roller blades, which lead to a discourse upon the classic Raquel Welch vehicle and how it was the cornerstone of her career and undervalued for its campiness, which lead them to stare at him with even greater incomprehension than usual. He waved a hand of surrender at Gabrielle. "Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Jeez." He took the carton, padded into a back room, and reemerged with the videotape. After opening the black box and checking it, he handed it to her.

"Thanks," she grunted.

"Look, I’m glad you’re at least renting something different, y’know?" he said. "It’s a shitty movie, but who knows, maybe in good time you’ll work your way up to better, more ambitious things. Like Orson Welles. Or foreign films. Stuff like that."

"Well," she hesitated. "I’d like to."

He actually looked pleased. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she echoed brightly. Zina would hate it, but there was always NASCAR.

He scrutinized her while scratching his beard. "Hey, I tell you what. I’ll make a list for you, of films I think you should see. Nothing too avant-garde or anything like that, but just some basic classics that you familiarize yourself with. And I’ll give a discount card you can use for renting these movies. How does that sound?"

Gabrielle stared at him, touched. Wow, he’s not so bad after all! "Thank you, Sarcastic Hippie Video Store Guy!"

Ooops.

His expression was something between a wince and a smirk. "Um, my name's Eli. Okay?"

3. Gabrielle: The Other Other Other White Meat

When Gabrielle entered the house, her first instinct was to bolt upstairs and hide in her study room for about a year, until her hair grew out. She was about the make a mad dash for the stairs when Zina emerged from the kitchen. "Hey," the firefighter greeted, blue eyes focused on the Rolling Rock bottle, "thought that was you."

The young poet and perennial student-teacher felt the sarcasm blooming within her, and even though something within her tried to staunch it, nothing could prevent its fleur du mal, a smart-ass remark, from emerging. "Yeah, I guess it could only be me, or the serial killer who has keys to our house."

It was a terrible mistake, for it drew Zina's attention from green bottle to green eyes. And the hair. Chewing her lip, Gabrielle braced for the worst.

"Your hair. You got it cut."

Gabrielle wondered if Zina got her talent for Stating the Obvious from watching—and listening to—TV sports announcers. She nodded, not sure how to read the paling color of the firefighter's blue eyes. Zina circled her like a farmer checking out a steer at the state fair. It'd been a long time since her girlfriend had really scoped her out like this and, she had to admit, she was having trouble breathing, in a good kind of way. "Well," she asked slowly, "do you like it?"

In lieu of a verbal response, Gabrielle found herself quite literally head over heels, flung over a shoulder, and staring, upside-down, at the disintegrating tag of Zina's Levis as she was hauled up the stairs.

*****

"Comfy?" asked the firefighter.

Gabrielle pulled tentatively on the handcuffs which bound her wrists to the bedpost. Goddamn Minya. Why did she have to give these to Zina? "Yeah, I think I'm fine." Her lover had interrupted some promising foreplay to clap the cuffs on her.

"Good," Zina purred, then barked: "Now spread 'em!"

And Gabrielle did. The tip of the strap-on dildo lingered near her opening, like an unctuous, falsely modest houseguest who was secretly dying to stay for weeks, sleep in late, smoke all of your stash, permanently stain the sheets, and eat all the food in the house. But after much flailing of hips and shameless begging, Gabrielle welcomed the dildo with a graciousness that combined aspects of Donna Reed, Martha Stewart, and Doris Day.

She was close—extremely close—when Zina stopped thrusting for a moment. "Did you hear a car outside?"

"Huh? No, no. Baby, whoever it is, they'll go away," she panted.

The firefighter frowned. Her senses were on alert. "Maybe it's my mother...shit, she'll just come in, if she has her keys." Zina scowled at the insanely aroused Gabrielle. "Or if you left the door unlocked again."

"I did not leave the door unlocked!" Gabrielle snarled. However, she was terribly unsure of that fact. "Zina, please!"

"All right, all right." She picked up the pace once again, and Gabrielle's eager hips followed suit. The poet's orgasm began to build, but, once again, Zina was the school bully who smashed it to bits like an unwieldy Lego tower. "Dammit!" yelled Gabrielle, her body convulsing. "Now what?"

"I swear someone is in the house. I thought I heard something on the stairs!"

"Zina, it's probably just your mom and she knows better by now than to come into our bedroom!"

"No, she doesn't! She always forgets!" The last incident had been particularly bad, and left Cyrene babbling about a "primal scene."

"Oh God, who cares?" Gabrielle shouted. She grabbed Zina's mane of black hair in her teeth and gave a savage yank, forcing her lover's gaze back to her own. Releasing the hair with a pfft, she continued: "She's seen us fucking, and so have Hank, Ed, Effie, Boris, Lao Ma, Ming Tien, and even my idiot sister! Everyone has seen us fucking because of that stupid videotape!"

"Gabrielle?"

"What?" shrieked the poet in sheer exasperation.

"Have your parents seen us fucking?"

Gabrielle followed Zina's glance over to the bedroom door...which was now open. The doorframe held both her parents. Both squat little Hockenberrys looked stunned.

The firefighter answered her own question. "Guess they have now."

"Hi, Momma," Gabrielle offered the feeble greeting.

*****

Zina sat morosely on the steps. Down the hall, Gabrielle was stationed outside the bathroom door. Her mother was barricaded inside said room, wailing uncontrollably. The poet's attempts at comfort and reason were lost in the maelstrom of grief for Gabrielle's presumed heterosexuality. Mrs. Hockenberry was a one-woman wake for perceived normalcy.

The firefighter resigned herself to the fact that the old lady would probably be in there all night, since she was so close to a toilet anyway, and probably left her extra pair of Depends in the pickup. So Zina ambled downstairs, in search of a beer, and curious as to what Gabrielle's laconic father was doing down there. Since his wife had locked herself in the room, he had only muttered, "For Christ's sake, Hermione," and wandered off downstairs.

Hockenberry pere had his bulk spread out comfortably in the couch, watching pro wrestling on TV. Zina saw nothing of her lovely girlfriend in either parent, and began to wonder if the lumpy couple had somehow conceived Gabrielle through a happy accident involving test tubes and Chemical X, as if she were one of the Powerpuff Girls.

Her arrival and observation of him did not go unnoticed. His eyes, actually made more attractive by the glow of the TV, studied her with awe.

Zina indulged in her usual gesture of discomfort: She rubbed the back of her neck. "Wanna beer?" she asked Mr. Hockenberry.

He nodded. She padded out to the kitchen, and returned with two Rolling Rocks. She handed him one. As he mumbled " 'preciate it," she sat down next to him.

He appraised her again. "Yer pretty," he mumbled.

"Thanks." She paused. "So's Gabrielle." But that goes without saying since you caught me boinking her, doesn't it?

"Ain't no skin off my ass," he continued. With only four more words, he would break a personal lifelong record for number of phrases spoken in one day.

She nodded.

"I still like her best," he confided. The record thus broken, the factions of his brain that encouraged language usage broke out the Asti Spumanti, peanuts, and noisemakers.

Zina smiled. "Me too."

"Lila's just dumb, like me, and Hope's plain crazy, like her ma. But Gabrielle ain't like anyone else."

So true, thought Zina. She started to raise the bottle to her lips, but stopped abruptly. Wait a damn minute. She stared at him. "Who's Hope?"

*****

Hours passed before Mr. Hockenberry finally rolled on the couch and announced he was going home, without his hysterical wife. Then Gabrielle came downstairs and threw herself on the couch. "My mother's asleep in the bathtub."

"I bet if you run the shower, that'll wake her up."

"You're not being real helpful, Zina. This whole night has been a disaster. I didn't get to watch Beaches, my parents saw us having sex, they know I'm gay, my mom is freaked out and living in our bathroom, and to top it all off I didn't come."

"Poor baby." The firefighter smirked, then guffawed.

Gabrielle glared at her, having expected a modicum of sympathy. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm gonna tell ya what is wrong: What got here is a failure to communicate," Zina drawled in her best Strother Martin-Cool Hand Luke tone.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Zina chuckled, shaking her head in amazement. "This is so cool. It's great." Gabrielle looked at her, puzzled. Zina put her beer on top of coffee table, more specifically, on top of the TV Guide.

"Hey, watch it! You'll get it all wrinkly!" the poet cried. When Zina failed to react, she moved the bottle off the guide.

The firefighter ignored this. "Listen, it's like we're in one of those parallel universes, like in Star Trek. 'Cause this time you're the one with the crazy, fucked-up secret in her past, not me." She giggled again. "This is so great. This time I get to be self-righteous hag." The firefighter bit her knuckle in mock melodrama and worked up little ponds of glistening crocodile tears in both eyes. "How could you keep a secret from me, Gabrielle! After all the underwear we've shared!"

Catching on, the poet gasped. "You know about Hope," she breathed. It was her one dirty secret, aside from shoplifting at K-Mart in the 7th grade.

"Yeah, that's right, baby. Your daddy told me about your twin, Hope." Zina guzzled her beer with relish.

Gabrielle was mystified. "He did? But why? Hell, Daddy only says about three words a day, and they're usually, 'where's dinner, woman?' "

"That's why they came here tonight, Gabrielle. 'Cause of your sister. They wanted to tell you she's out of the loony bin."

"Fuck!" Gabrielle exclaimed in a panic. She bounced around on the couch nervously. "I...shit, Zina, she hates me. Is she in town? Do they know?"

"They don't know yet." Zina stroked her chin thoughtfully, the gesture a result of witnessing Artie stroke his goatee for years on end. "Did you show up at the garage today?"

"Well, yeah, but you were gone when I got there. Why?"

"Uh-huh. Was this before or after your haircut?"

"After." Gabrielle went slack-jawed. "Oh my God. She was at the garage?"

"Yep," the firefighter confirmed. "I reckon it was her."

Zina found her Nine Inch Nails t-shirt in Gabrielle's hot, angry hands. "Did you fuck around with my sister?"

"Gabrielle, knock it off! I was in the garage, for Christ's sake. Purdy was right there. Look, I just kissed her, 'cause I thought she was you." Mock indignant, she straightened her t-shirt. “Sure explains the reaction I got."

"Oh boy, she must have freaked."

"She did. She smacked me."

With a squirm and a lustful growl, the poet affirmed this: "You're very smackable, you know?" Gabrielle's thwarted libido was drawing up a petition for another crack at Zina.

"Save it for after we sandblast your mother outta the bathroom." Zina picked up the Rolling Rock and took a pull on it. She rubbed the cold green bottle with her thumb. "So, uh..." She shrugged nervously. "Why'd your sister end up in the sany-tarium?"

"Cause she's an evil bitch, that's why," muttered Gabrielle darkly. "She..." the poet swallowed nervously, and Zina took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"C'mon, you can tell me," the firefighter encouraged her gently.

Gabrielle squirmed uncomfortably, then snuggled closer to her lover for comfort. "She...she tried to throw me in the barbecue pit when we were little. She had me trussed up to a stake and covered in sauce and everything." She shuddered at the memory. "Thank God Daddy wasn't drunk that day."

"Huh. Wow." For Zina, this explained her companion's perpetual dislike of barbecue. But how come she doesn't like coleslaw?

"That was the last straw. Up until then, it had just been minor things, things you pretend were an accident. Like shoving me in front of the school bus. Trying to sell me to a motorcycle gang. Shit like that."

A memory scratched eagerly at the back door of Zina's mind. She rubbed her jaw nervously. "Hey, what motorcycle gang was that?" Gabrielle looked at her, horrified. "It wasn't Hogs and Harlots, was it?"

Gabrielle went pale.

Zina grinned in her charmingly dopey fashion. "I coulda been your first."

"That's just great," snarled the poet sarcastically.

"Yep." She smirked proudly. "I was always head of the line."

*****

At the near-empty counter of the town’s lone diner sat Hope, picking at a ham-and-egg sandwich and ignoring a cup of coffee. A cigarette proved to be a larger temptation than the greasy items before her, and she lit up. Before long she noticed a crazy-looking woman with big crazy brown eyes and big crazy blonde hair was sitting next to her and staring. In a real crazy way.

"The brat smokes," murmured the blonde woman. "Will wonders ever cease?"

"Get outta my face," snarled Hope.

"Tough talk without your bitch girlfriend to back you up," retorted the blonde.

Hope groaned, realizing that—of course—she was being mistaken for her sister once again. "Look, I'm not Gabrielle. Okay?"

"You've been reading Sybil again, dear? Which personality are you today? The crossdressing kindergarten teacher? The kleptomaniac who bites her nails?"

The ex-mental patient flicked cigarette ash in the lap of her tormentor. Callie screeched. "Why you little—" before she could finish the sentence or lay a hand on Hope, the latter had slapped her across the face, the crack echoing in the vast mid-morning emptiness of the formica-laden diner.

The waitress, sitting alone at the other end of the counter, perked up a little.

Callie saw stars and touched her burning cheek. Wow. She blinked through the tears in her eyes. It isn't the brat! "Who are you?" she whispered in awe.

"Hope. I'm Gabrielle's sister. I've been away for a while, but I'm back." Ash dribbled onto her unappetizing breakfast, which made it look heavily peppered.

"Hope," Callie repeated. "I'm Callie." Hope. Hope is a woman named Hope. I'm hopeless about Hope.

"I'd say it's nice to meet you, but it's too early and I'm too pissed off."

"Yeah. That's okay, Hope. So...just got into town, hmm?"

Hope nodded. She stared at the dismal sandwich before her, shrugged, and took a huge bite of it.

Wow. Now here's someone who doesn't give a crap about what anyone thinks. "Got a place to stay?" asked Callie.

"No," Hope grunted sullenly. "My parents won't let me stay with them. Fucking assholes."

Is it possible to fall in love within the span of five minutes, after someone has slapped you silly and repulsed you by eating something undeniably gross? Elizabeth Taylor knew it to be true, this magnetic, sudden rush of love that overwhelmed common sense, good taste, and all concepts of decency. And Callie, off her meds, thought so as well. It's funny, the person I love most in the world and the person I hate most in the world look the same!

Idly, Callie pressed a leg against Hope's. "Well, I'd be happy to let you bunk over at my place. Um, there's only one bed, though...."

Hope, slurping coffee, nearly spat it all over the counter. "What the fuck? Is every woman in this town a lesbo now? Instead of the Stepford Wives, you're all Stepford Dykes?"

The waitress looked rather intrigued at this notion.

Callie hastily withdrew her lunging, lustful thigh. "Um, no, don't be silly!" She gulped—a Plan B would be necessary in this seduction. "I'm a minister of God, for heaven's sake!" Plan B being a good bottle of tequila and Artie.

"Fine," said Hope, finishing off the sandwich with one last large, feral bite, as Callie marveled at the capacity of her mouth. "So I'll take the bed, you take the floor."

*****

Zina lumbered into the house and was assailed, once again, with more of Gabrielle's ongoing spiritual crises. The perpetual academic was sitting on the floor with something that, to the firefighter, resembled a giant bong.

My mother…fumed Zina. "What the hell is that?" she grunted, looming over Gabrielle and the thing.

"Hi, honey! Cool, isn't it?" Absently Gabrielle plucked a string attached to the pseudo-bong, and it made a sharp yet melodious noise. "It's a sitar. Eli lent it to me."

"Eli?" echoed Zina.

"Yeah." Gabrielle smiled proudly. "He's Sarcastic Hippie Video Store Guy."

"But…how did…?" she trailed off. Zina was dumbfounded, yet impressed at Gabrielle's accomplishment. "You made contact," she murmured, awestruck.

"Yeah. I broke the cycle of bad porn, baby. Thanks to Eli." For herself, Gabrielle too was amazed at having broken through his sarcastic veneer. Who would’ve guessed that Eli had a sitar collection, possessed a spiritual side, and ran his own support group for hirsute pot smokers?

"But I wanted to see Prison Pussy IV!"

"Too bad, Zina. Tonight we're watching Truffaut's The 400 Blows."

The firefighter leered. "Well, that might be okay. Especially if you blow me a couple hundred times during it."

"Oh, Zina." The poet gave both a haughty sigh and a withering look of disdain to the firefighter. "It's not that kind of film." Absently, she plucked out a tune on the sitar, which sounded vaguely like "Don't Fear the Reaper" and made Zina long for a Blue Oyster Cult reunion tour.

Then Gabrielle hit a particularly harsh chord. "Honey, I hate to break it to ya, but you're not exactly George Harrison," Zina jibed.

"Sure. Fine. Go ahead and mock me. Don't be supportive. I'm trying to find my way, find some peace in this raging, violent world, and you have to be a fucking killjoy. Fine. I'll just take my sitar upstairs—" Kneeling, Gabrielle scooped up the sitar from its large round bottom and abruptly lifted it into the air. The instrument's upward mobility met with resistance punctuated by a thud and a twang that made her hands reverberate. And then another nauseating thud as Zina's unconscious body hit the floor.

Gabrielle gasped. She wasn't kidding when she said she had a glass jaw! "Oh, baby!" she squealed.

*****

From the trailer's tiny kitchen Callie could see Hope sitting in the recliner, reading the newspaper. The minister maneuvered herself out of plain sight to practice her Slinky Walk, something she had not done since being ordained by Artie into his church.

But love had called for drastic measures. She had pulled out her Daisy Dukes, thinking that, between these and many a vodka tonic, any woman of worth would turn queer. She did not want to implement Plan B unless it were absolutely necessary—a walking penis like Artie was a dime a dozen, but a good bottle of tequila was hard to find in these parts.

Callie heard the rattling of ice cubes. "Coming, my pet!" she cried gaily. She ran to the refrigerator and pulled out the two liter bottle of Dr. Pepper, checked her hair in the toaster’s greasy reflection, then dashed into the living room.

"Here you go," Callie crooned in sing-song tones as the beverage foamed and sizzled within the grape jelly glass.

Hope grunted, then pointed at an item in the newspaper. "That's her."

"Hmm?"

"That's the sick fuck that my sick fuck of a sister is screwing." Hope pointed at page 2 of the Chakram Creek Daily Independent Morning News Courier. FIREFIGHTER OF THE YEAR FOR THE SECOND TIME, bellowed the headline. The article was accompanied by a large photo of Zina, de rigueur in firefighting gear, cradling her helmet, and sitting on the back of a fire truck with an anemic looking Dalmatian who had been up for a supporting role in the live action version of 101 Dalmatians but blew its chance on becoming a celluloid hero after humping Glenn Close's leg and peeing on her handmade Italian loafers.

Thus spake the article:

For the second year in a row, Miss Zima Amphipolitti of Chakram Cheek has won the prestigious "Firefighter of the Year" award in Olympus County.

In a brief ceremony at the county firehouse yesterday morning, Miss Amphipollittus was presented with a plaque by the Mayor, followed by the county's newly appointed poet laureate, Gabrielle Hockenberry, reading briefly from one of her own works entitled "Ode to Tremulous Thighs." The winner also received a certificate granting her a year's supply of doughnuts from Krispy Kreme, co-sponsors of the award. The ceremony was brief.

"Yeah, it's great," proclaimed the 52-year-old firefighter. A lifelong native of Chakram Creek, the winner attended high school at various locations in the region, including Chakram Creek High, Henabae High, Our Lady of Spamona High, and the prestigious Athens Christian Academy. She received her GED last year. Before embarking on her career as a firefighter, Miss Amphibian overcame serious drug, alcohol, and legal problems in an effort to make her life "not suck."

"This woman is living proof that you can turn your life around 360 degrees on the right track, and that the parole system is preferable to welfare," stated the Mayor. Miss Amphigrafitti will be on parole until the year 2010.

"Ooooh." Callie bit her tongue. She needed a new picture of Zina for her scrapbook; most of the others were either stained or torn violently.

"What the hell is a poet lore-ate?" snapped Hope.

4. The Way, or The Weigh

Zina's mind was, she would gleefully admit to anyone, not of a scientific bent. However, a kind of academic curiosity inflamed her on the very first day she picked up the free doughnuts from Krispy Kreme: How many doughnuts could Gabrielle eat in one sitting? How much weight would she gain? To maintain her current weight and physique, she would have to increase her weekly can-crunching workouts to what amount? Every day? Every hour? Am I going to get to eat any of these doughnuts? she wailed to herself.

She stopped walking down through the parking lot. Hell, yes. Viciously she tore open the box and jammed a powdered creme-filled in her mouth, where it remained as she kick-started the cycle, navigated out of the lot, pulled up to the first red light, tore down the road until the second stop light, made a left, then another left, then a right, saw Cyrene's Volkswagen outside the food co-op, went past the town limits, picked up speed, wind, and the exhilarating pulse of freedom, then saw the speed limit sign, then the poorly camouflaged state trooper cruiser behind an abandoned grain shed, which reminded her of that weird ABBA song, "Super Trouper." Do they have state troopers in Sweden? Maybe they're nicer there than here…sure, they're super! Super, thanks for asking! And then she almost missed the turnoff for the farmhouse, but swerved at the last moment, made it and sped up the dirt road to the house. By the time she shut off the bike, the doughnut was soggy and denuded of its powder, most of which was congealed around Zina's mouth, as if she were a half-hearted, amateur kabuki actress.

The firefighter took a few seconds to fully devour the thing and wipe her mouth, then she burst into the house. "Hey, baby! I'm home!"

Gabrielle, studying at the dining room table, looked up expectantly. "Hi." The green eyes widened. "Oh my God. You have the doughnuts."

"Of course I have the doughnuts. It's time to eat the doughnuts!"

"I can't."

Zina stared at her in shock. "What?"

"I can't, baby, I can't." Gabrielle looked stricken, and torn. She gnawed her lip. "It's a promise I made. Eli and your mom, they want me to go macrobiotic."

"What the hell's that?"

"It's my way, Zina. It's what I was meant to be. Sugar-free, meat-free, dairy-free…"

The firefighter chuckled in disbelief. "Come on, you don't expect me to believe that. You couldn't possibly give up all those things. I know you, Gabrielle!"

"Then you know that when I've made up my mind, I've made up my mind!" retorted the angry blonde.

"Oh yeah?" Zina tossed the carton of doughnuts on the table.

She watched Gabrielle fight with herself—the young woman's nostrils flared, she sucked on her lips. Her jaw trembled. "No. I won't give in. This is the way, Zina, the only way I'm going to clear my mind and my soul from all the non-recyclable crap in it." She stood up and began to gather together her books.

"Sure," snorted Zina. "Just walk away, like a coward." She peeled off her heavy firefighting coat, its dirty fluorescent yellow stripe dull in the overhead light of the dining room. The suspenders—which held up bulky fireproof pants—were taut and flowing over the munificent bounty of her torso. Gabrielle gulped. Deprived of junk food, she was at least thankful that Eli wasn't insisting on celibacy in this new spiritual pursuit. The firefighter sauntered closer to her. "I want proof, Gabrielle. I want to see that you can really do this. I want you to prove it all night." Zina was very close to her, indeed, almost pressed against her.

Gabrielle moaned and shivered. "Oh baby, you know what you do to me when you quote the Boss," she sighed. She was ready to melt in her lover's arms. But, with panther-like swiftness, Zina pinned her on the floor and handcuffed her to the dining room table. Damn you, Minya! "Do you carry these handcuffs everywhere?" she cried, then struggled awkwardly to sit up.

"Sure. Some people just don't know the difference between a firefighter and a cop." Zina gave a sinister chuckle.

Gabrielle wasn't sure she wanted to know precisely what that statement meant.

Zina knelt before Gabrielle, whose squirming was not the result of pleasure or excitement, but dread. "I'm going to show you my way, Gabrielle." Her purring was richly obscene and slinked its way from her vocal chords to Gabrielle's heart. "Our way. The way it should be. The way it always will be."

In a burst of defiance the little poet gave the handcuffs a savage jerk. "Not fair," she whined. "I don't have any choice, you big bitch."

"Tut-tut, Grasshopper. One always has choices," intoned the semi-wise firefighter.

"Did Lao Ma say that to you? She's as bogus as the new Kung Fu."

"Silence!" Zina hissed. "No more talk. Now is the test, Gabrielle. Now we will see how true you are to your way." The sneering tone strengthened Gabrielle's resolve even further. Until she saw it. It was sudden and swift, merciless in that way Zina could be sometime. The doughnut loomed in front of her like a space station dripped in sickly sweet sticky glaze.

"Krispy Kreme," Zina drawled in a low breathy voice; for added emphasis she ground her hips seductively. Advertising executives would kill their grandmothers, sacrifice puppies to Satan, and deflower Girl Scouts for such endorsements. If they didn't already do so.

Gabrielle wanted it. She wanted it bad. More than anything in her entire life. But, clenching her teeth, she growled, "No!"

"Oooh, very good, Gabrielle. Be strong. Show me, baby. Come on. Show me what you're made of, Grasshopper." Zina unfurled her lovely, languid tongue and swirled it around the moist hole. "I'm gonna eat it, baby," she breathed heavily, "I gonna suck down every sweet drop of it and you'll just have to sit there and watch me. Watch me do it, baby. Watch me."

Gabrielle stopped jerking and panting wildly. She gulped. And she watched as Zina's flawless teeth descended upon the soft, puffy, delicate flesh of the doughnut. "No!" she screamed. With superhuman effort she lurched forward and snagged the other end of the treat in her mouth. Chewing fanatically, she groaned as sugar saturated her mouth. It pumped wildly through her veins as she worked her way to Zina's lips. Mouths crushed together and flakes of glaze exploded from the collision. The firefighter hurried to uncuff her lover, and was indeed successful. They fell to the floor in a love fueled by the Sticky Jewel in the Crown of the American South.

*****

Cyrene, for once mindful of things that she might not want to see, opted to ring the doorbell of the farmhouse. After a few minutes Gabrielle opened it, short hair wild and sticking, clothes rumpled in a fashion that indicated hasty dressing.

The older woman sighed. "Don't you two ever stop screwing?"

"No," replied the poet automatically.

Cyrene's nose twitched as Gabrielle tried to look innocent. "I smell it on you!" the older woman accused. She jammed a crone-like finger in the fair Gabrielle's face.

"I just said we were fucking, what do you expect?" Gabrielle retorted; yet she knew that wasn't what the hippie had meant.

"Nuh-uh, honey. I smell sugar on you. I accuse you…oh man, what's that line in French? Like Zola, said to all those dudes in France: Je…je smellez vous!"

"You can't smell sugar!"

"Can too," the older woman shot back in a petulant tone.

"You can't smell anything, Cyrene. You couldn't even smell the ashtray when you set it on fire last month." Indeed, what was like to be one of Cyrene's senses? They definitely weren't working overtime; in fact, they had been given the pink slip many moons ago. They were the welfare mothers of the sensory world, every Republican's nightmare.

The older woman frowned, relenting. "All right, I can't. But I know you've broken your vow."

"How?"

"You have sprinkles in your hair."

Gabrielle groaned and raked her short blonde locks with her fingers, causing a rainbow of unnatural sugar condiments to shower upon Cyrene's Birkenstocks.

Cyrene stared at her feet. "Just what have you two been doing with those doughnuts?" she asked, suspicious.

"S'all Zina's fault." It was unkind, but Gabrielle hoped her corrupt lover was itching from the powdered sugar in her nether region.

"Isn't it always?"

"As a matter of fact…"

"Aw c'mon, Gabrielle. You can't blame everything on Zina. I know it's easy to do that. When she was younger, I used to blame my lack of boyfriends on her, thinking that guys wouldn't want to be with a woman who had a kid."

"Hmmm."

"But then I realized it was my lack of deodorant. Thank goodness Tom's of Maine started making a decent one!"

"Yeah. That's great."

"Now I beat 'em off with a stick."

"Uh-huh."

"You're not listening to me, are you?"

"No, not really."

"Fine, fine," carped the hippie, sailing past Gabrielle. "I'm just saying you need to take some responsibility," she added haughtily. "And I'm gonna tell Eli at our Legalize Pot Now meeting tonight!"

Gabrielle gasped. "Cyrene, don't! He'll take away my discount card!"

Cyrene heartlessly ignored this plea. "Zina!" she shouted.

The firefighter was pulling a t-shirt over her head when Cyrene entered the living room.

"Honey..."

Zina held up a hand. "Don't say anything, Mom. I know it's my fault. I never should've tempted Gabrielle with sugar."

"Jesus..."

"Please don't be upset."

"But, honey," Cyrene gestured helplessly, "you're going prematurely gray down there."

"That's just powdered sugar."

"Powdered sugar?" repeated Cyrene.

The firefighter nodded.

The hippie pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I never thought I would say this, but I think you guys are getting too weird for me."

5. What Would Jesus Do?

Callie's half-hearted dart toss spiraled toward the ground, but just managed to snag the very edge of the corkboard, where it drooped, impotent and clinging. She sighed, and cut another look at Hope and Artie over at the bar. The little blonde was all over Artie, wriggling in his cheap chino-ed lap. She watched as Hope once again jammed her tongue into Artie's mouth.

Apparently, Callie raged, being a whorish little slut ran in the Hockenberry family.

The ex-minister finally lost it when Hope started un-buttoning Artie's shirt. She stalked over to them, still clutching a dart. She tried to clear her throat in a ladylike manner, but merely ended up sounding like Tom Waits preparing to hock a lugie.

Hope and Artie stared at her. "What the hell do you want?" spat Hope.

You, you little bitch! Callie wanted to scream. She swallowed, and composed herself, forcing a bright, fake smile. "My darlings, what do you say we retire to my place?"

"I want to be alone with my little fuzzy-wuzzy," Hope crooned to Artie.

Artie grinned in pleasure, then winced as she began plucking some chest hairs. "Yeah, Callie. Perhaps the lady and I would like to be alone for the rest of the evening."

Oh, you idiots. Your poor, senseless buffoons. "I have a bottle of tequila back at my place."

Hope paused. "Okay." She stood up.

"I'm in," chimed Artie.

*****

Normally Artie didn't mind being passive while screwing. However, his primary objection in this particular instance—on his back in Callie's bed—was having to stare up at the photo of Charlton Heston taped to the ceiling. It was a still shot from Planet of the Apes, with Chuck dirty and resplendent in his loincloth. Perhaps it was the tequila, but, as Hope straddled him and started riding him, he swore he could hear that deep voice snarling, you damn dirty ape! But then—he smiled in fond remembrance—Zina used to call me that too.

Ah, Zina. He closed his eyes. If he focused hard enough, he could pretend that Hope's breathless panting and squeals were the deep leonine growls of Zina, that he could smell the beer she liked, that he could feel her prison ID bracelet scraping against his skin. "Oh…oh…oh…zzzzzz…." He was close, and in danger of doing something irreparably stupid. Don't say it! he warned himself. No matter how tempting it may be! He clutched the side of the bed. What is she doing? Dear Lord, it feels great!

But, despite his own self-chastisement, he moaned, shuddered, and released. With the cry of "Zina!" on his lips. Damn.

However, in the tiny moment of bliss after he came, he honestly believed that, when he opened his eyes, his beloved sister/cousin/whatever would indeed be there, with her blue eyes, her lush body, and beautiful sneer.

Instead it was just Hope, carrying an insane rage in her glassy eyes. "What the fuck?" she yelled.

*****

The first thing Callie saw when she opened her eyes that morning were Teletubbies scampering playfully across the TV screen. Her neck felt permanently wrenched into its twisted position, courtesy of a long night on the couch. Carefully, she sat up, and tried straightening her head; but the room spun merrily, and she felt like Linda Blair. Plan B didn't work very well, she thought groggily. What the hell went wrong? She tried, slowly, to remember last night's events while rubbing her neck. Then she grew aware of the empty tequila bottle in her lap.

As Hope emerged from the bedroom, clad in t-shirt and bikini briefs, Callie shook the empty bottle and realized that she had indeed finished off the tequila last night, after Artie and Hope had crawled off to her bedroom. "Oh man, I ate the worm," she groaned aloud.

Hope flopped down on the couch, and gave her a pointed look. "Me too."

*****

Artie straightened his tie and settled down behind his desk for another leisurely day of work at Ares Ministries. Actually, today would be busy. He was expecting a call from Pat Buchanan, and had several issues of Road and Track to catch up on. Nonetheless, the day's activities were nothing out of the ordinary, and every day that passed without some insane encounter with Hope was a blessing. He had not seen her in almost two months, since their ill-fated one night stand. Now there's a euphemism, he sneered at himself; being chased naked around a trailer by some hoochie with a butcher knife who was threatening, quite loudly, to cut off certain sated appendages was not exactly ill-fated.

The most amazing thing about the whole escapade was that Callie slept through it all.

He was organizing the condiments in his desk drawer when Hope kicked open the door.

Oh Lord! He jumped up. "Hope!"

"Hello, Worm," greeted the former mental patient. Ever since That Night, she and Callie had taken to calling him that: The Worm. It was their way of bonding. She sprawled in the chair facing his desk. "Haven't heard from you lately, Worm." She picked a paper clip from a pile of the little metal objects on his desk.

He then sat on the desk, facing her. "Hope, must you call me that?" he implored. "I've been very busy doing the Lord's work. You should understand that." He gave her the same condescending smile he used on old ladies for donations.

"Look, pussy boy, save the crap for the congregation. We have some unfinished business."

He held up his hands. "I know, my dear girl. I used you to satisfy my base cravings. It was shameful. I've been praying every day, and doing penance." It was true; giving up the Ding-Dongs had been harder than he ever imagined.

"You called me by that big bitch's name." Hope was glaring into space and twisting the paper clip so that it resembled a miniature sculpture by Giacometti. "I hate that miserable freak!"

Artie blinked in surprise. "You mean Zina?"

"Everyone in this town is obsessed with her. You, my sister, Callie...even Purdy, for God’s sake. She steals Gabrielle from him, and that poor dumb idiot idolizes her."

He admitted this with a shrug. "Well, she is pretty awesome."

The sharp edge of the paper clip sculpture sank into his thigh, right through the thin, paltry J.C. Penney khakis. "Shit!" he cried, abandoning godliness for the moment.

"You pathetic fool," Hope hissed. "I don't even know why I came here."

Artie yanked the paper clip out of his leg with an unmanly squeak of pain. "Well, neither do I," he rasped, pressing his palm against the wound.

She stood up. "Actually, I did want to tell you something."

He looked at her reluctantly, expectantly.

"I'm knocked up."

Artie said nothing, but wondered if Pat's offer to set up a mission in Sarajevo was still good.

*****

The next stop on Hope's itinerary that day was her sister's house. She had no interest in seeing dull Lila, but Gabrielle was another matter. Ever since her arrival back in the Creek, Gabrielle had been steadfast in her resistance to see her estranged twin. Chickenshit, thought Hope. Now there was nothing left but a direct confrontation. And if that meant she had to go through that big dyke to get at her sister, she would.

Sure enough, the freak answered the door. Zina leaned in the doorway, muscular arms folded over her chest. "Guess they haven't put an electronic bracelet on you yet," greeted the firefighter.

"Look, I'm not here to see you. I want my sister."

Zina hitched an eyebrow. "Really? Then we do have something in common, Hopeless. I want her too," she purred with a wink.

"Stop twisting my words, you freak. I want to see Gabrielle. Now."

"Not possible, Hope Floats. Gabrielle's teaching today." Having acquired an undergraduate degree, realizing its inherent worthlessness, and thus ascending rapidly to the graduate level, Gabrielle was now an indentured servant of the college, teaching freshman lit.

"Fine," snarled Hope. "When does she get back?"

Zina shrugged. "I dunno, could be late. You know how those college types like to sit around and yap, Chicago Hope."

"Will you fucking stop that?"

"Stop what, Ryan's Hope?"

Weaponless, she was about to take a lunge at the firefighter, but once again took note of the brawny forearms and thought better of it. "Look, you, I've got to talk to my sister. It's important."

"What about, Bob Hope?"

Hope sneered. "Why should I tell you?"

Zina sneered back. " 'Cause otherwise you don't have a hope in hell of getting past me, Hope Lange."

"Fine." She glared at the firefighter. "I'm pregnant."

Zina whistled. "Huh. Knew Artie was always lying 'bout being sterile." She looked at Hope. "You wanna come in and wait for Gabrielle?"

"My feet are killing me." Translation: Yes. Nonetheless, she hesitated.

Zina laughed. "You think I'm gonna try to seduce you or somethin'? I've already done it with pregnant women. It's kinda fun, until you get in the way when they have morning sickness." The firefighter shuddered at an unpleasant, unspoken memory, then stepped aside so that Hope could enter the farmhouse.

As she nervously crossed the threshold, Hope heard the door slam suddenly, then felt Zina's hot breath (lightly accented with Rolling Rock) in her ear. "Of course, if you misbehave and lay a finger on Gabrielle, I'll snap your neck before you can say hot pork sandwich."

Hope froze. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Although she had a sudden urge for pork. Smothered in gravy. She made a mental note to call Callie before heading back to the trailer.

"Siddown," Zina ordered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Reluctantly, Hope did so. "Can I have a beer, at least?"

"You shouldn't be drinking. You're gonna a have a baby."

"Look, I was so upset when I found out I was knocked up that I drank all of Callie's peppermint schnapps. The damage is done."

Shit, the damage was done the minute the sperm landed on Planet Egg, thought Zina. "All the same, do your heavy drinking somewhere else, okay?" She offered Hope a can of Coke, then settled on the arm of the couch, where Hope slouched, legs sprawled and tenting her much abused skirt.

Gabrielle's sister cracked open the can and guzzled its contents quickly. She brooded, then looked at Zina. Who was staring at her with those unnerving blue eyes. "So tell me," Hope began, angry voice edged with genuine curiosity. "What is it about you...that makes everyone in this place think you're so fucking wonderful? Why does every man, woman, and child in town either want you or want to be you?"

Zina smiled coolly. The firefighter stood, and assumed a curious stance. She stretched her shoulders, and, with her legs planted apart and one hip jutted forward, holding her right arm just slightly further form her body than the left, she stared at, then through, the ex-mental patient. She looked the very picture of a gunslinger, like Alan Ladd in Shane. Except a whole lot taller.

Hope blinked, and shuddered at a sudden draft between her legs. And she saw that Zina held aloft a pair of suspiciously familiar panties, dangling in flaccid glory from her fingers. Playfully she sniffed them. Then, raising a critical eyebrow, shook her head sadly.

No. She couldn't have. It's not possible. The hysterical thoughts raced through Hope's drug-free mind.

"Now this is definitely where you and your sister part company," Zina said. "Gabrielle would never wear polyester panties." Disdainfully she let the underwear fall to the ground. "So," she addressed her stunned audience of one, "does that answer your question, Hope and Glory?"

6. Seven Months Later

The young man struggled with the straps that bound him to the hospital bed.

"Y'all just settle down there, Pedro," mumbled the male nurse.

"Fuck you, man! MY NAME IS NOT PEDRO. I know I got rights! Where's my car? Where's my CELL PHONE?"

"Sheriff'll be here soon, Pedro, and she'll straighten this all out."

"Stop calling me PEDRO, you stupid cracker!" Simply exhausted, he slumped in defeat against the uncomfortable gurney bed. His best friend had not exaggerated about what people were like outside of Manhattan! They were all inbred and dumber than dirt!

Then he saw an older woman down the hall. She was not a member of the staff, and was holding an infant so well-swaddled that the contents within the blue blanket could have been anything. The woman was dressed like a hippie, he thought, like those old 60s leftovers in the Village who got all nostalgic and mumbly about how much the neighborhood had changed.

Suddenly, he grew wildly, ridiculously hopeful. His eyes bulged. Perhaps this woman could help him get out of here! He wasn’t crazy, he reminded himself, just a drama queen. How was I supposed to know that state trooper would have me committed for observation just for channeling Susan Hayward? Again, he stole a look at the middle-aged hippie, who smiled at him. The woman was the most normal-looking person he had seen since he was caught speeding by said trooper along Shakti Ridge. She might be a beacon of sanity in this white trash hell pit. "Hey!" he cried to her. "Hey, sister! C'mere!"

The woman approached him warily, lightly bouncing the baby in her arms. A motionless dark head poked out from the blankets, the face turned away.

"Hey, man, I can't sell you anything here. Like, this is a state mental hospital! It’s crawling with cops and shit," Cyrene hissed to him in an undertone.

"No, no, lady, lissen, I don't want anything like that." At least not right now. "I need you to help me get outta here. I was arrested just for speeding, and they dragged me in here sayin’ I was resisting arrest and I needed to be restrained for ‘observation,’ which is such bullshit! They won't let me call a friend or my family or nothing! Please, you gotta help me."

"Really, I wish I could, but I can't. I gotta watch the kid here." She nodded at the baby. "Look, they’ll probably let you go after you spend the night, or else they’ll transfer you to Shark Island Correctional…" Cyrene mused, trying to remember particulars from her own experience as the lone Vietnam War protester in the county, and conflating it with her daughter’s extensive criminal record.

"What? Shit!" he shouted.

"Shh!" Cyrene commanded. The baby started squirming and crying. "Aw, man, you woke her up!"

The child turned in Cyrene's arms, facing him.

He gulped in horror. Mami was right! "AYE, MIA MADRE!" screamed Paolo Torqemada. "ES EL CHUPACABRA!"

*****

Hope wasn’t sure if it the was the drugs, the chocolate malted balls that Callie had brought her, or the fact that the goddamn thing was out of her body, but she was happy, and she loved everybody. She smiled as she surveyed her hospital room, head lolling on the pillow, a damp drool stain tickling her cheek. Within weeks she would be back in her old room at the institution and her parents would be saddled with her spawn. Perfect revenge. Let them fuck up another child. Threatening to kill Gabrielle (yet again) was the best thing she’d ever done; it resolved all the problems that this so-called real life had inflicted upon her. Although it had been fun to be out for a while, just given the sheer amount of havoc that she wreaked upon everyone. And the experience did reveal to her that she did not belong out here, in this world, but back in the institution. It was her real home.

She looked away from the window when she heard the door open. It was Gabrielle. She smiled. "Hi, chickenshit! Decided to finally see me, huh?"

The poet lingered near the door for a fast getaway. She had not wanted to see her sister, but Zina—in a burst of wisdom—said that it was better to confront the past and put it to rest, rather than letting things fester like a wound. Not to mention that the firefighter had promised to let Gabrielle use the handcuffs on her tonight.

"Hi," Gabrielle mumbled. "How are you feeling?"

"What the hell do you care?"

"Look, at least I’m trying, Hope. Okay? I’m sorry if I ever did anything to upset you or hurt you. And I forgive you for all the stuff you tried to do to me. And the fact you still want to hurt me."

"You’re lucky that your girlfriend is more of a violent psycho than me. Otherwise you’d be dead."

"I’m forgiving you as we speak." Or trying to, anyway.

"Big of you, chickenshit. Let’s not pretend anymore. I did what I did because I wanted to.

I threatened you ‘cause I wanted them to lock me up again. I wanted to go home. I’ve saddled the brat with Mom and Dad, I beat up Lila, and I scared the crap out of you. I’m feeling pretty damn good right about now." Hope exhaled triumphantly.

Oh, this is useless. Why even try? "That’s pretty impressive, Hope. But just remember one thing."

Hope eyed her sister suspiciously.

"Zina still has your underwear. It’s going in her trophy box." With that, Gabrielle left her sister behind. For good, she hoped.

*****

The firefighter leaned against the wall, close to where the Hockenberrys sat. The reluctant guardians of Hope’s infant had completed the requisite paperwork, and now awaited one last visit with their estranged daughter.

The door of Hope’s room was flung open and Gabrielle emerged, sucking lungfuls of air as if she had just been underwater for the last two minutes.

"How’d it go?" Zina asked, although she could tell, by taking in the pained expression of her companion, that Gabrielle’s conversation with her sister had been less than stellar. Handcuffs and extra doughnuts tonight, she thought. Poor baby.

"She’s fucked," muttered the poet.

Zina, not a doctor and not playing one on TV, nodded sagely.

The baby squalled as Cyrene brought her around the corner, to where the Hockenberrys and Zina awaited. "It's someone else’s turn," she said to them wearily. She thrust the infant at her daughter.

Much in the manner she handed a water hose, Zina took the child, then held her up. The baby silenced in the face of the intense blue stare. "I dunno," the firefighter said to Gabrielle, "how your sister and Artie could make such a damn ugly kid."

"Zina!" chastised Gabrielle, slapping her lightly on the forearm, "stop it! She'll hear you!" Then she stared at the baby and her face fell. "Well, Artie must be hairy, I guess." She looked to Zina for confirmation.

The firefighter winced in memory. "There were times…when I was surprised I just didn’t cough up a giant hairball."

The poet shivered in disgust, then regarded the infant again. "Ah, poor girl."

"Don't worry about her, Gabrielle," Cyrene threw in, "Chupy's made of tougher stuff than that, aren't you, kiddo?" she cooed to the child.

The women looked at Cyrene. "'Chupy'?" echoed Gabrielle.

"Uh, yeah, it's um, Spanish for 'fuzzy one,'" lied Cyrene. She had never gotten a straight answer—or even one in English—from the boy on the gurney, as he had babbled at her in Spanish for five minutes before passing out.

Zina made it official. "Chupy it is then," she declared.

"That's fine for a nickname, but she needs a real name," Gabrielle interjected.

Mrs. Hockenberry took a closer look at the infant and burst into tears. She ran into the bathroom.

"Jesus, somebody's gotta tell Momma that bathrooms are not exactly churches, you know?" the poet complained.

Zina was still contemplating the child. "How about Harley?" she suggested.

"Damn, Zina! You can't be serious. Naming the kid after your stupid bike?" cried Gabrielle.

"Cool!" said Cyrene.

"I like it," agreed Harold Hockenberry.

Gabrielle stared in sheer disbelief, thoroughly amazed at her father taking the energy and effort to formulate an verbal opinion. "Well! I guess I'm outgunned. Welcome to the family, Harley."

"Goin' home, now. Gab, tell your mom not to forget the kid. See y'all later." Harold Hockenberry nodded amiably at all of them, then waddled down the corridor to the exit.

"Shit, now we have to drive Momma home," Gabrielle grumbled. "Actually, first thing, we have to get her out of the bathroom."

Zina turned to Cyrene. "Hey, Mom, go get Mrs. Hockenberry outta the bathroom."

"And just how am I supposed to do that?" retorted Cyrene.

"Smoke some weed. That'll flush her out, so to speak."

With a martyr-like sigh, as if smoking marijuana were a burden akin to eating spinach, Cyrene headed for the bathroom. Zina and Gabrielle were left alone with the kid.

"Guess I'm gonna have to do some stripping again," Gabrielle said.

Zina looked at her, surprised. "Oh yeah, baby? How come? For her college fund?"

Gabrielle was pleased at the fact that Zina was thinking ahead, and thinking of the kid as well. It was a good sign. "Yeah. That and the fact she's gonna need serious electrolysis by the time she's five."

End