#this baby is held together by scotch tape

[itsdefinitely]

yea i'm normal about this game, why?

[mariesdeluluworld]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

Next Chapter

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephews on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed.

Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets ― but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that two other boys lived in the house, too. Yet Harry and Y/n Potter were still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Their Aunt Petunia was awake, and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start while his twin made a groggy sound. His aunt rapped on the door again."Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a14good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before. Y/n yawned and stretched his arms above his head, yawing loudly. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at his twin brother, Harry.

"Morning Harry," he greeted.

"Morning Y/n, sleep well?" Harry asked. Y/n nodded. "I had a dream about mum," he whispered into the quite dusty broom cabinet. Harry smiled at his brother and opened his mouth to reply, but before he knew it, his aunt was back outside the door."Are you up yet?" she demanded. "Nearly," said Y/n and Harry."Well, get a move on, I want you two to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn. I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."Harry and his twin groaned."What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door. "Nothing, nothing..." said Y/n.

Dudley's birthday ― how could Y/n have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Y/n chuckled and pulled on his own pair of socks, and stood up. He and Harry were used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where they slept.

When they were both dressed, they went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry and Y/n, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise ― unless, of course, it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry and Y/n, but he couldn't often catch them. Harry and Y/n didn't look like it, but they were very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but the boys had always been small and skinny for their age. Y/n looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he and Harry had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than they both were.

Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. While Y/n had also had knobbly knees and was thin, he had h/c hair with e/c eyes. He did/didn't were glasses. The only thing Harry and Y/n liked about their own appearance was a very thin scar on their forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. Y/n had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."Don't ask questions― that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" he barked at Harry and Y/n―before glaring at Y/n who was serving the coffee that was not burnt―by way of a morning greeting. About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry and Y/n needed a haircut. Y/n must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way ― all over the place.

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel―Harry and Y/n often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig. Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult, as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell."Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father.

"That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present. See, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Y/n, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, Popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right'?" Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally, he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia."Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry, Y/n and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." She jerked her head in Harry's and Y/n's direction. Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Y/n's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry and Y/n were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there while Y/n enjoyed the old woman's company, even if she was a little bit bonkers. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made Harry and Y/m look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned."Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry and Y/n as though they planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tuffy again."We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon. She hates the boys."The Dursleys often spoke about Harry and Y/n like this, as though they weren't there ― or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about whats-her-name, your friend ― Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia."You could just leave us here," Harry put in hopefully (he and Y/n would be able to watch what they wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled."We won't blow up the house," said Y/n, but they weren't listening. "I suppose we could take them to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "...and leave them in the car...."

"That car's new, they are not sitting in it alone...."Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying ― it had been years since he'd really cried ― but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted."Dinky Duddydums, don't cry. Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him."I... don't... want... them... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "They always sp- spoils everything!" He shot Harry and Y/n a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms. Just then, the doorbell rang― "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically ― and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry and Y/n, who couldn't believe their luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with (with Y/n squeezed in between Harry and Piers) Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in their life.

Their aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with them, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry and Y/n aside. "I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's and Y/n's, "I'm warning you now, boy's― any funny business, anything at all―and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "Honestly..." said Y/n, trying his convince his Uncle. But Uncle Vernon didn't believe them. No one ever did. The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and Y/n and it was just no good telling the Dursleys that they didn't make them happen. Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry and Y/n coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short they were almost bald except for their bangs, which she left "to hide those horrible scars." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry and Y/n, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where they were already laughed at for their baggy clothes and Harry's taped glasses. Next morning, however, Y/n had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He and Harry had been given a week in their cupboard for this, even though they both had tried to explain that they couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly. Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him and Harry into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls) ― The harder she tried to pull it over Y/n's head, the smaller it seemed to become until finally, it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Y/n. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Y/n wasn't punished. On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens with Harry. Dudley's gang had been chasing them as usual when, as much to Harry's and Y/n's surprise as anyone else's, there they were sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's and Y/n's headmistress, telling them Harry and his brother had been climbing school buildings. But all Y/n tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trashcans outside the kitchen doors. Y/n and Harry supposed that the wind must have caught them in mid-jump.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, Y/n, the council, Harry, the bank, Y/n, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them. "I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. Y/n turned to look at his twin, curiosity in his eyes. "It was flying."

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered. "I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than their asking questions, it was them talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon ― they seemed to think that they might get dangerous ideas. Y/n looked at his brother and grabbed his hand and squeezed it in a comforting manner, telling his brother that he was there.

It was a very sunny Saturday, and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry and Y/n what they wanted before they could hurry them away; they bought the boys a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Y/n thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.

"To be honest," said Y/n as he licked it. "it's not bad," Harry smiled a little at his optimistic twin. If there was one thing that separated them was Y/n's optimism and unwavering loyalty and kindness. "I agree," said Harry and Y/n smiled at him.

Harry and Y/n had the best morning they'd had in a long time. Of course, they were careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him and Y/n. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one, and Harry was allowed to finish the first. He, of course, shared with Y/n who thanked him quietly before taking back to look around at the other families. Dread and longing crept through his heart. He missed his parents, especially his mum's songs she would sing. But he was an orphan, along with his brother, and they were stuck with the worst people in the world. A sigh was all that Y/n let out before looking back at his twin.

Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last. After lunch, they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick,man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can ― but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep. Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils."Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge."Do it again," Dudley ordered. "Stop it," whispered Y/n, glaring at his cousin. Couldn't the dimwit see that the snake was sleeping? Couldn't he respect its wishes to lie down and not be disturbed? Oh, he forgot, this was Dudley, a spoilt brat. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away. Harry and Y/n moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself ― no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass, trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house. The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's and Y/n's. It winked. Harry and Y/n stared. Then Y/n looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too. The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time." "I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying," said Y/n. The snake nodded vigorously. "Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked. The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it. Boa Constrictor, Brazil. "Was it nice there?" asked Harry. The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Y/n read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see ― so you've never been to Brazil?" As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry and Y/n made both of them jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could. "Out of the way, you two," he said, punching Harry in the ribs and kicking Y/n in the shins. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor while his twin leaned down to help him up. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened ― one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leaped back with howls of horror. Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits. Y/n just watched as the chaos unfolded and as the snake slid swiftly past him, Y/n could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanksss, amigo." The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. "But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?" The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry and Y/n had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?" Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry, as Y/n stayed with his brother. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go ―cupboard ― stay― no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

"Come on Harry," said Y/n, pulling on his twin's arm. Later, Harry and Y/n lay in their dark cupboard much later, wishing that they had a watch. Y/n didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food. Harry and Y/n lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as they could remember, ever since they'd been a baby and their parents had died in that car crash.

Even though Y/n couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. Harry couldn't remember their parents, but Y/n had small memories. He knew what his mum and dad looked like. He could remember his mother singing and someone saying 'Prongs' and 'Padfoot' but that was all.

Their aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course, they were forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house. When they had been younger, Harry and Y/n had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take them away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were their only family. Yet sometimes Y/n thought (or maybe hoped)that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him and Harry once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley.

After asking Y/n and Harry furiously if they knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at Y/n once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken Harry's hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry or Y/n tried to get a closer look. At school, Harry and Y/n had no one but each other. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry and Y/n Potter in their baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.

[pillage-and-lute]

Hey I have a holiday prompt for you! What if it’s the pairing’s first holiday together and they stress about figuring out what to get each other? Any pairing you feel like! PS Reading your stuff never fails to put a smile on face!����💜💜

Hi Blondey!

cute shit ahead. Modern AU

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“Yen,” I swear,” Geralt panted into the phone. “It’s an emergency. Please, I need your help.”

“No.”

“Yen please I’m actually begging.”

“You should have thought to beg before Christmas Eve.”

“I’m meeting him tonight, Yennefer, I’m on Wilson Street, with all the shops and I’m so lost, please.”

“No.”

“I’ll set you up with Jaskier’s hot friend. The one from the coffee shop. She’s single.”

“...I’m on my way.”

-- -- -- Across Town, Triss and Jaskier’s Apartment -- -- -- 

“I just thought I’d have more time to get him a gift,” Jaskier wailed, draped dramatically over Triss’ beat up armchair. “And then it was thanksgiving, then finals and it’s Christmas eve and I don’t have a gift.”

“Well,” Triss said, sipping her cocoa and barely looking up from her book. “It’s not noon yet, shops aren’t all closed. What kind of gift does your relationship need?”

“What?” Jaskier looked up from his flop of despair, confused. 

“I mean, if you’d been dating for a month it would be slippers or some scotch or something.”

“We’ve been dating eight months though!” Jaskier wailed. “I love him, Trissy, desperately. I see his face and everything goes all pink and mushy.”

“You should get that checked out.”

“No, I mean,” Jaskier sat up and looked at her. “I think he could be the one. He might be it for me.”

Triss looked up from her book. She’d known Jaskier since university, and his heart had always been so mobile, but there was something shining in his eyes. She shrugged mentally. Put it down to a Christmas miracle, but Jaskier was really in love.

“What does he like?”

Jaskier huffed. “He likes being grumpy.”

“And?”

“Me.” He paused for thought. “His horse, Roach, he loves riding. He loves his goddaughter, and mythology.”

“Lord of the Rings nerd?”

“Oh you have no idea, he’s basically Aragorn if Aragorn had albinism.”

“I know a place,” Triss said, getting up. “Put on your coat.”

“Will it be open?” Jaskier asked anxiously, pulling his boots on.

“They live above the shop,” Triss said, throwing his scarf at him. “I know the owners, I’ll just shoot them a text.”

-- -- -- Back on the other side of town -- -- --

“Okay,” Yennefer said. “And you’re sure the hot barista is single?”

“Triss,” Geralt said. “And yes, apparently she’s been crying about it to Jaskier for ages.”

“Right, let’s go looking,” Yennefer said, looking remarkably cheerful.

The rows of shops were mostly open for last minute shoppers and Geralt and Yennefer fought through them. 

Well, Geralt fought. Yennefer just glared and people moved out of her way. 

“Does he cook?” Yennefer asked, pointing at a cookware store.

“Ramen and box mac n cheese,” Geralt said.

“You said he likes clothes?” A very full store with what could only be called hipster clothing.

“He has lots of clothes I want something...special,” Geralt said. He was trying not to lose hope.

“You really like this one.”

“I do, you met him he’s just...bright,” Geralt said, mumbling a little into his scarf as the wind blew a flurry at him.

“Hey, look at the music shop on the corner,” Yenn said. “I’m down here all the time, I’ve never noticed it before.”

Neither had Geralt. “Is it new?” It didn’t look new. It looked nearly condemned.

“You said he loves music,” Yennefer said, stomping in the direction of the store.

“I dunno, that store looks...”

“He loves music,” she said. “And you love him.”

They entered the store.

-- -- -- Triss and Jaskier -- -- --

“How the hell did you find this place?”

“I told you,” Triss said, matter of factly. “I know the owners. They’ll be down any minute to open it up.”

“They’re opening it up just for us?” Jaskier asked guiltily. It was Christmas eve after all.

“They owe me,” Triss said. “I introduced them. Well...reintroduced.”

“Welcome to The Sword in the Stone, Gifts and Novelties,” grinned a young man with very blue eyes and slightly large ears, opening the door. Behind him a blonde young man grinned cheerfully too, he was wearing a santa hat.

“Hi,” Jaskier said, stepping gratefully inside. “It’s a pleasure, I’m Jaskier.”

“Merlin,” said the young man who’d opened the door. 

“Arthur,” the blonde waved.

“Seriously?”

The pair just shrugged. Well, Jaskier, called Buttercup/Dandelion/Julian/a lot of other things, wasn’t about to tell people what to call themselves.

“I hear you need a gift for that special someone,” the blonde -Arthur- said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, he loves fantasy stuff and I just... I don’t know what to get him.”

“Gotcha,” Arthur began to lead him back into the shop. Merlin and Triss were chatting by the door. 

“Were you thinking bigger, got a lovely cardboard cutout of Viggo Mortensen?”

Jaskier pictured Aragorn watching them have sex from the corner of Geralt’s little studio apartment. “Maybe smaller but kind of...niche?”

“Lucky you, this place if full of niche,” Arthur said cheerfully. 

Jaskier looked at the wall full of swords and was that a battle axe? “Yeah...”

“Does he wear jewelry?” asked Arthur, jingling a box full of metal in Jaskier’s direction.

“Not really,” Jaskier said. Then something caught his eye. “Wait...” he pulled something out of the box and held it up to the light.

Somehow...it was perfect.

“How much.”

-- -- -- Yen and Geralt -- -- --

“This place looks closed,” Geralt whispered to Yennefer, looking around at the racks of instruments.

“Not closed dearie, just dusty,” came a cheerful voice from right behind Geralt. He and Yennefer jumped.

“Sorry honeys,” said a little old lady with coke bottle glasses. “Got my slippers on, makes me quiet. She shuffled one foot, clad in pink fluff, off the floor as exhibit A. “Gift from my great grandson, aren’t they darling? Now,” she looked at Geralt with laser intensity. “You’d be needing a gift.”

“Um, yes ma’am,” Geralt said. How had she known?

“Ooohoo you need a gift,” said the tiny old woman, “Cause you’s a boy in love.” She nearly cackled. “Follow me honeys!”

Geralt and Yennefer looked at each other, shrugged, and followed. What choice did they have?

“Got a harp,” the shopkeeper called cheerfully. It was indeed a full, standing, concert harp. It had a figurehead on it but the face looked absolutely agonized.

“Maybe not,” Geralt said.

“Hmmm no,” said the lady, shuffling her fluffy slippers. “Bagpipes?”

“He lives in an apartment.”

“That’ll be a no, then,” said the woman, peering at a rack of instruments in the corner. “Aha!” she shrieked, startling Geralt and Yennefer both. 

“This!”

It was perfect.

“I can’t afford it,” Geralt said, feeling hopeless.

“Oh yes you can,” said the little old lady gleefully, if she could Geralt got the sense she would be jumping and clicking her heels. “Nobody wants ‘em these days, this one’s seventy-five percent off!”

Geralt left with a weird shaped package.

-- -- -- Geralt’s studio apartment, evening -- -- --

“Hey,” Jaskier, said, stomping his boots on the mat.

“Hi,” Geralt replied, stealing a kiss. “What’d you tell Triss?”

“Told her I was sending a gift, what’s you tell Yennefer?”

“She’s heading over there now,” Geralt said. “With that movie they both like.”

“Ocean’s 8?”

“That’s the one, and a plate of homemade Christmas cookies.”

Jaskier smiled at Geralt and stole another kiss. “We’re never going to have a moment of peace, now we set them up,” he said. Geralt grinned at him. “Never, but I think we did the right thing.”

They settled in on Geralt’s little loveseat. Jaskier set a wrapped present on the side table. Beside it, on the floor, was a very poorly wrapped mess. Lots of scotch tape was visible. It was quite large.

Jaskier felt panicky.

“Should we,” Geralt said awkwardly. “Do you want to exchange presents now?”

“Sure.” Oh god, Geralt’s gift was so small, and what if he hated it?

“You first?” Geralt said, handing over the odd package.

Jaskier had always been a rip-it-open present person, but he took his time, although there was no salvaging the taped up paper.

“A lute?” he turned to Geralt in delight, face lighting up.

“A lute,” Geralt said. “Is-is that a good thing?”

“Oh my god, Geralt, yes! Oh I love it! I can’t wait to learn it!” Jaskier dropped kisses all over Geralt’s face, careful of his new baby.

He handed Geralt the little package. “It’s not as great but...”

Geralt was a folding kind of person and folded up the wrapping paper carefully, then he opened the box and took out the amulet with the silver wolf’s head.

“Oh,” Geralt said.

Oh. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? Jaskier tried to breathe slowly.

“Jaskier I...” 

Oh no. He hated it.

“It’s perfect.”

What?

“When I was little I thought I’d be a knight,” Geralt said, pale eyes shining. “And I drew wolf’s heads on everything, my crest, I said.”

Geralt was holding up the amulet as if transfixed. 

“Vesemir can show you, he kept the drawings,” Geralt said. Then he slipped the medallion over his head.

“My knight,” Jaskier said. “My wolf.”

Geralt gave a playful growl. Jaskier’s heart thumped a little harder. Geralt must have picked up on something in his eyes because he cocked his head.

“Oh?” he rumbled, low in his chest. “You want a wolf, do you?” He growled again.

Jaskier leapt up, shrieking with laughter and ran to hide in the bathroom. Geralt caught up before he could close the door.

“I’ll huff and I’ll puff,” he said, dragging Jaskier closer and giving him a bear hug. He growled in Jaskier’s ear.

“And I’ll blow your...how does it go?”

“I’m not sure, wolfie,” Jaskier said, pulling Geralt closer by the amulet. “But I think it ends with you eating me all up.”

It was a very merry Christmas indeed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ope! Idiots! With a random appearance from BBC’s Merlin (In 2020? I guess.) and a little old lady. + the magic of christmas.

[howtosingit]

My random thoughts:

Your ramble post of theories + the fandom speculation chatter in the tags have me stressed AF. I AM HERE FOR ALL OF IT. 🙌🏾

Owen and I have different opinions on what it means to recover from surgery.  🤦🏽‍♀️

This is going to be a great story to tell the kids/grandkids. LOL

I feel some type of way about TK and Carlos having an argument over their dads because those two have been less than stellar this season. Lol. But despite their complicated relationships, it’s obvious TK + Carlos love and respect their dads so it is totally in character. I can also see them agreeing to not let their outside family drama impact their relationship post-fire. 💜

I'm really excited about the arson storyline, despite the Owen-focus. (Resignation helps when watching this show lol). The storyline looks to be giving us more Reyes family appearances and I can't complain about that. Give me Andrea and TK lovingly fussing over a recuperating Carlos please! *manifesting* 

How do you feel about the pacing when it comes to the season so far? We have 4 episodes left in this season, so I'm guessing the arson plot is going to take up about 2-3 episodes at least? It feels like we're getting some of their best stuff here towards the end (which no complaints here), it just feels a bit rushed to me? The show doesn’t do a great job of keeping us aware of a timeline so, at times, it feels like things are just happening back to back. I also try to forget we spent seven episodes on that baby storyline. 🙄

I'm very interested to see where the characters end up at the end of this season, given that season 1 ended with no cliffhangers and everyone in a relatively ok place. I wouldn’t mind that again, given the rollercoaster they’re about to take us on. Sorry for the long ask, lots of rambling going on in my head too! 😂

Sonia! I’m sorry that I received this ask on Friday and then totally dipped for the weekend 😂 I was sick for a day and then just decided to take a little break, but I wanted to make sure I answered this!

I’m excited that it finally feels like the show is doing a multi-episode arc that may involve a number of characters and specifically will involve Tarlos. I think it has the potential to be a really good string of episodes, even if it will be Owen-centric (and like you said, I’m resigned to that fact). I feel like tonight we might just get the one Tarlos scene, but I’m not going to complain since I imagine they’ll play a huge role in 2x12. Let’s see how the show sets it all up!

And yes to more of the Reyes family! I have to say, we are actually seeing way more of them than I ever expected after 2x04, especially if they’re going to be in 2x12 as well - it makes me incredibly happy that the two characters who were created for Carlos (and I guess, in a way, Tarlos) get to play such a major role on the show this year. That level of investment is all I’ve wanted for the character, so I’m glad we’re seeing it. I’m manifesting that Andrea/TK content right there with you, but I’m also keeping my hopes in the basement where they belong! 😂

I think the pacing has been a mess this year and I have to say... I place all the blame on Gwyn and how the writers chose to use her. Like, I think even they got bored with that baby plot right after they introduced it, or they didn’t know where exactly they wanted to take it?? Anyway, it dragged and it took up too much time and it’s the one thing I would delete from this season if I could. 

But no, it definitely feels like now that they got rid of Gwyn, the writers are much more focused and driven with the 2B plots. 2x08 was quite a game changer in a lot of ways: I think they realized that they do have the potential to be more focused in their writing and in their story choices. A lot of times, the episodes can feel like random collection of calls and stories that are tenuously held together with Scotch tape... but 2x08 connected everything with amazing results, and that’s kind of continued with 2x09 and 2x10 - they even carried the ice cream shop through the episode. There will always be some random stuff here and there, that’s just the type of show this is, but I hope the writers will challenge themselves more in the future. I mean, this arson plot already feels pretty focused and connected, so let’s see how that goes. 

[lizadale]

This entire blog has probably the most feral interpretation of Luigi since the Brotherly Love fanfic and I am LIVING for it

my Luigi is a chaotic nightmare man barely held together by poorly applied scotch tape and bent paperclips, he will stop to pet puppies and coo lovingly at every baby he passes but DO NOT kidnap his brother or threaten his friends

[btsqualityy]

BTS Toddler Series #27: Mother’s Day

Kim Seokjin

“Can you open the door for me Chinny?” Jin asked as he looked down at Kaiden. Kaiden nodded and twisted the handle of your bedroom door, pushing it open and stepping inside afterwards. Jin followed behind him with a large tray in his hands.

“Can I wake Mommy up?” Kaiden wondered and Jin nodded. Kaiden stepped closer to the bed, gently patting your arm that was laid above the blanket.

“Mommy, wake up,” Kaiden whispered loudly. Groaning, you opened your eyes to see Kaiden standing over you and Jin watching carefully as he stood behind him.

“Mm, what is it Kade?” You asked as you slowly sat up.

“Me and Daddy made breakfast,” he chirped and you looked at Jin again, finally noticing the tray in his hands. He steppe over and set the tray down on your outstretched legs, and you gasped as you saw that he had cooked all of your favorite breakfast foods.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” Jin smiled and your eyes widened as you remembered that it was Mother’s Day today.

“You didn’t have to do this Jin,” you chuckled as you immediately went to work on eating the strawberries that Jin had cut up for you.

“It’s the least I could do, considering how much you do for Chinny and I,” he shrugged.

“Thank you so much,” you said and you puckered your lips for a kiss, making Jin laugh as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

“Is it good Mommy?” Kaiden spoke up, referring to the food and you pulled away from Jin to smile at him.

“It’s so good,” you confirmed. “Thank you Kade,” you said before kissing his cheek.

Min Yoongi

“Ok, where’s my gift?” You wondered as you looked over at Yoongi. He chuckled before turning to look over at you with a small smirk on his face.

“And how do you know that I got you a gift?”

“As much as I deal with you and our Sleeping Beauty of a daughter here,” you said as you motioned down at Kinsley, who was asleep in between you and Yoongi. “I deserve a gift.”

“As much as I want to disagree with you, you’re right,” he smiled softly before turning over to the other side of the bed and reaching into the nightstand. After a few seconds, he turned back to you with a small box in his hands and he passed it off to you. You excitedly opened up the box, revealing a beautiful silver bracelet. Towards the front of it, there were three small circles that were pushed together to form a heart.

“Yoongs, it’s beautiful,” you sighed softly as you looked over at him. 

“The three colors are representative of the three of us, since they’re our birthstones,” he explained and you looked down at the bracelet again, realizing that the emerald one was for Kinsley and the amethyst one for Yoongi. 

“I love it even more,” you smiled as you pulled it out of the box and wrapped it around your wrist. Yoongi silently reached over and locked the clasp for you, lifting your wrist up to his lips and kissing it softly afterwards.

“Happy Mother’s Day baby.”

Kim Namjoon

“I really appreciate you doing this for me Joon,” you grinned as you watched the waitress place your ordered food onto the table in front of you. 

“It’s no problem Y/N-ah,” he shrugged. “Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve treated you out to your favorite restaurant.”

“Very true,” you nodded in agreement as you smirked. 

“Mommy,” Mason called as he tapped repeatedly on your thigh, making you look down at him. “Can I try?” He wondered as he pointed to your plate of chicken nachos. You nodded and picked up a chip from your plate, making sure that it had chicken on it before feeding it to him.

“How is it?” You asked him and after chewing for a few seconds, he nodded enthusiastically. 

“Here, try Mommy,” Mason said as he picked up one of his chicken nuggets and held it up to your lips. You opened your mouth and let him feed you, making sure to make a lot of positive noises so that Mason knew that you thought it was good.

“What about me Mase?” Namjoon pouted and Mason giggled before picking up another nugget and holding it out for his Daddy. You watched with a smile as Namjoon ate the nugget, nibbling playfully on Mason’s fingers as he fed him which made Mason squeal in delight.

“I love you guys,” you sighed, making Namjoon look up at you with a smile.

“I love you too jagi,” he replied.

“Love you too!” Mason added with a lopsided smile.

Jung Hoseok

When your eyes open in the morning, it’s not because of Lennox or Berkeley pulling on your arm, or because of them making too much noise way too early; it’s actual due to your natural circadian rhythm, which hasn’t happened since the twins were born. 

After stretching your body, you sit up and grab your phone, noticing that it’s almost 10am. A feeling of dread sinks in then, because Lennox and Berkeley never sleep past 8 and the fact that it’s been two hours and you haven’t heard or seen them makes you nervous.

“Morning Y/N-ah,” Hobi sung cheerily as he suddenly walked back into your bedroom. 

“Hobi, where’s Len and Berk?” You asked.

“They’re downstairs, watching a movie,” he replied. 

“Why didn’t they wake me up this morning?”

“Because I wouldn’t let them,” he admitted and you raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. “It’s Mother’s Day today, remember?” He said and your eyes widened. 

“Wait, so you let me sleep in?” You questioned with a small smile.

“Yeah. I know they usually go straight for you instead of me in the mornings so I decided to give you a break today,” he explained. “And I have more planned for you.”

“What else?”

“You’re gonna have to get up and go shower and get dressed if you wanna find out,” he shrugged. Giggling, you hurriedly got out of the bed and walked up to him, kissing him firmly.

“Thank you,” you said.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. 

Park Jimin

“Ok, so your gift isn’t really anything fancy,” Jimin explained as he stood in front of you while you sat on the couch.

“Jimin-ssi, I’m sure it’s fine,” you chuckled. Nodding, he handed the large box in his hands to you and you set it on your lap. You undid the bow on top and then lifted the lid off of the box. Inside, there was what appeared to be a scrapbook. You gently pulled it out of the box and then shoved the box onto the floor.

“I noticed our family photo album was getting a little full so I made this one,” Jimin explained as you opened the cover of the book, only to be greeted with a photo of you and Jimin on your wedding day. 

“Pretty Mommy,” Noah piped up as he pointed to you in the picture.

“Mommy was really pretty that day,” Jimin agreed, making you blush before you turned the page. You continued to browse through the book, smiling as you saw pictures of you and Jimin from when you were just dating, your wedding, when you were pregnant with Noah, and Noah’s newborn days. 

“I love this,” you gushed, looking up at Jimin with a wide grin. 

“Keep looking jagi,” he said and you looked back down at the book as you turned to the very last page. There, held onto the page with scotch tape, was a hand drawn picture of you, Jimin, and Noah. 

“Did you do this Noey?” You wondered as you looked over at him, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! See, here’s Mommy and Daddy and me,” he said proudly as he pointed to each of the figures that he had drawn. 

“I love it baby,” you sniffled as tears welled up in your eyes.

“No crying Mommy,” Noah pouted.

“Don’t worry mini me, I think those are happy tears,” Jimin smiled as he bent down and gathered you up into a hug.

Kim Taehyung 

“I told you a hundred times Kim Taehyung, I didn’t need a gift!” You huff as Taehyung extends a small box towards you. 

“You really thought I was gonna let Mother’s Day pass and not get you anything?” Tae scoffed. 

“But I already have my gift, you and Spence,” you said, taking a second to press a kiss to the top of Spencer’s head as she slept slumped against you on the couch..

“That doesn’t mean that you can’t get anything extra,” he pointed out and you sighed heavily before taking the box out of his hands. You opened the box, which was made for jewelry, and you found a gold bracelet with a large gold plate on the front of it. On that gold plate, you saw what looked like chicken scratch handwriting.

“What is this?” You wondered as you looked up at Taehyung.

“It’s Munchkin’s handwriting,” he revealed and you gasped before looking back down at it.

“Do you know what it says?” You asked.

“She wouldn’t tell me,” Taehyung laughed. “She said that it was only a secret for her and Mommy to know.”

“I’ll ask her when she wakes up then,” you giggled. “Thank you so much Tae.”

“No, thank you,” he retorted. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have Munchkin and she’s one of two of the greatest things that have ever happened to me.”

“What’s the other one?”

“Meeting you,” he smiled and you cooed before leaning forward and kissing him passionately. 

Jeon Jungkook 

“Daddy, can we give Mommy her gift now?” Ava asked.

“Gift?” You said as you turned away from the stove where you had been making breakfast for the three of you, and looked over at Jungkook who was sitting at the counter. “What gift?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise but someone can’t keep quiet,” Jungkook sighed as he looked down at Ava.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, covering her mouth with her hands.

“It’s ok Angel. Here,” he said as he reached into the pocket of his pajama pants and pulled out a small box before handing it off to Ava. “Go give it to Mommy.” She nodded before sliding down off of her chair and bounding over to you. 

“Thank you Ave,” you smiled before proceeding to rip the wrapping paper off of it and opening it up. Inside, there was a beautiful golden locket and you pulled it out of the box in order to get a closer look at it.

“Open it,” Jungkook instructed and you nodded before doing so. Inside, there was a picture of you and Jungkook sat next to each other, side by side. Jungkook had his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder. Ava was sat in your lap, her big bunny smile that mirrored Jungkook’s prominent on her face. 

“See Mommy?” Ava chirped as she hopped up and down a few times. “It’s your favorite picture.”

“It is,” you nodded, feeling tears beginning to well up in your eyes. Jungkook got up and walked around the counter and over to where you were standing, setting his hand on the small of your back and rubbing gently.

“Why are you about to cry?” He wondered.

“I just love you both so much and this is my favorite picture and now I can always carry it with me,” you rambled as tears streamed down your cheeks, making Jungkook laugh at how cute you were. 

“Happy Mommy Day Mommy,” Ava smiled as she hugged your leg.

“We love you Y/N-ah,” Jungkook added.

“I love you guys so much more,” you grinned, leaning over and kissing Jungkook softly.

[hadestownmodern]

Uncle Ophie

I desperately need sleep but here’s some Orpheus interacting with Junie bc you’ve been so kind, I love all the asks, I’m genuinely just still shocked at how many people like this au, and I’m really happy about it. 

-Danielle

-----------------------

              The main room of Orpheus’s apartment is hushed; Eurydice wanders with careful steps with little direction, guided solely by her wandering mind. She’d seen the interior of this place more than her own-had helped decorate for Christmas with the box of hand-me-down decorations, drank hot chocolate while cutting jagged lines into the notes they’d written for final exams. She lifts a finger to admire the work they’d hung from the ceiling with scotch tape-lines of ballpoint pen in his quick, imperfect scrawling letters reading of baroque and blues and tonal systems-things he’d written over and over again until the weekend offered reprieve. It had taken most of the snowy Monday morning for them to cover the small expanse of space, but between an extra day off classes and the promise a warm bed and no responsibility, they’d fared well. She’d even brought a tree-a raggedy old thing, one from a corner market on her way home from her second job. Home-she feels her thoughts stumble at the label, thrown without a thought at the apartment full of instruments and random knick-knacks.

              She hadn’t seen her own home in days-a full week almost. She’d gone back to retrieve simple things; work clothes, a textbook, some groceries used to make a throw-together meal. She hadn’t meant to stay-there were boundaries, rules-but each time she considered the thought of leaving her mind skipped a beat; refused to believe that it was an option. Running had sounded so sweet back before Orpheus. Before him-before Thanksgiving, and I love you slipping between busy lips…before that night, with his arms around her as if they’d been there all along, running was a hobby-a necessity. Now, with paper snowflakes and hot chocolate-with Orpheus and “lover” and his apartment key on her keychain, run was the last word on her mind.

              The apartment is hushed, but not silent. Eurydice’s ears perk at the sound of soft laughter-a little chiming of bells, blissful and happy, resonating along with Orpheus’s carefree chuckle. Her features soften, breath hitching. Then, the delicate strumming of a guitar, and his voice fills the apartment with a sort of glowing that matches the string lights hung along their threadbare tree. She can’t quite catch the lyrics-something about a rabbit, and then Junie’s voice adding in a bear and a frog. Every so often he stops his song-voice inflecting a question of what should happen next? And the tiny voice answers back instantly, chipper and soft, through a yawn. Eurydice finds herself next to the bedroom door, where the lights have been dimmed to a soft glow and two shadows sit close together. His figure is lanky, leaned over the guitar with practiced ease. Orpheus looks down at the toddler, tucked into bed but sitting upright, who holds three stuffed animals close to her chest. Junie stares back at Orpheus with round, shining eyes filled with a warmth that mirrors his own. Eurydice feels her heart pull in her chest; it’s the same adoration she’d seen a month ago, the first time she’d seen Orpheus with Junie close to his hip, babbling on as she cursed herself that the mystery musician had a child.

              It hadn’t been a wrong assumption-Orpheus continues his bedtime song, strumming chords that feel right, flow although it’s not a song she knows-it’s one he’s constructed. This fantasy world-the one of the three animals Junie held close, is being built before her eyes. As Junie looks at her uncle with stars in her eyes, he leans down and kisses her head. Tender and delicate, the toddler cups his face in her tiny hands and kisses his nose, her lips upturned in a sleepy smile. It hadn’t been wrong of Eurydice to assume that he was her father when he looked at her as though his entire world was bottled inside of this little peanut of a curly-haired little girl.

“One more question tonight, then bed. Okay?” She nods, her curls settling down by her shoulders as she sinks further into her pillow. She asks Orpheus about the rabbit again-a prim little toy, with a crown upon its head and the only sign of wear being a rubbed-off nose and slightly tattered ear. He pauses for a moment-his fingers dance along the neck of the guitar as he ponders what will happen next. Eurydice’s head nestles itself against the doorframe, her entire being enraptured. His face lights up, then, and he begins playing. It’s a slower version of what she’d heard before, his fingers plucking the strings rather than strumming. He wraps things up neatly-a rabbit prince inviting others to his kingdom, making friends by choosing to be kind. He weaves the moral delicately between his softly sung falsetto and easily crafted world, holding out until the last note. Junie’s eyes droop but she fights to keep them open, blinking and rubbing and stifling another long yawn. He laughs then, sets the guitar lightly against her bed and shuffles himself closer to her. Eurydice considers moving then, going back to the living room under the guise that she’d been there all along. But then Orpheus leans down, raising the covers to Junie’s chin and settling his face close to hers.

              “Love you forever, Buggy.”

              “Luff you, Ophie.” Her tiny hands wrap themselves tight behind Orpheus’s back and squeeze hard; both pairs of eyes shut themselves in response. There’s a long rise and fall of his chest, a deep sigh that covers the room with serenity. They linger in the moment. Eurydice lets it wash over her, too, from her place in the doorway, her heart shifting and pulsing inside of her chest. When they break apart Orpheus runs one hand down her cheek, grinning and kissing Junie again. He wishes her one more soft good night, then turns her nightlight down a smidge before picking up his guitar.

              Eurydice pulls herself away from her vantage point and retreats back to the couch, throwing an old, chunkily knit blanket over her legs. She can hear the soft tap of his bare feet against the wood floors before she feels his arms around her, his head on her shoulder. He traces the line of her neck with feathered kisses and she loses her breath, craning her head to meet his. When he joins her on the couch her head falls to his chest, her legs tangling themselves in his as she lays them sideways and covers him with her blanket. They’re pressed close together on the tiny couch, with its sunken cushions, but there is familiarity in the posture. She hasn’t slept without him since Thanksgiving night-since her decision to go home with him had turned into an unexpected domesticity she’d fallen into without a second thought. And here, with the note-ridden snowflakes and the ragged-looking Christmas tree; with Junie’s toys all over the floor and her tiny frame in the bed they usually occupied, Eurydice lets herself fall into the pattern of his breathing. The weekend had been exhausting, occupying the sweet little girl while her parents were away turning into snowmen in the park and hot cocoa at home, to Christmas movies and singing to Orpheus strumming every Christmas carol he knew. And then she’s half asleep, his fingers finding soft, mindless movement in her hair and lulling her eyes shut.

              “Love?” Her voice is already laced with the grogginess of sleep-his response is a hum, melodic even in its sleepy, questioning answer.

              “Sing to our babies like you sing to Junie.” She doesn’t even think of the words as they come slipping from between her lips, a whispered voice that brushes up against his chest. She’s not thinking of run-no, she hasn’t thought of run since Thanksgiving night, since watching Orpheus run up and down the halls of Persephone’s grand house with Junie close beside him. No, since then-since fumbling hands and tender promises of love the next morning, Eurydice has felt firmly planted to the man who sings with his soul and loves with the entirety of his heart. And with Junie snoring softly in the bedroom they’ve shared since that night, Eurydice finally feels home; a home where she pictures tiny feet running, little hands strumming his instruments, and eyes just like his above a tiny baby’s ruddy cheeks. She feels his breath release for a moment, a finger lightly tapping the bottom of her chin. She turns her face up to his to see him beaming, sleepy eyes shining and upturned lips meeting hers.

              “I’ll sing to our babies every day,” the words move against her own lips, his nose brushing her nose, his heart beating against her own. “I promise.”

[izcana]

Tommy and the Newt Pt. 7

Shucking great. He chased Thomas away, and now he's in the middle of nowhere, possibly being torn apart by wolves. What was he thinking? In Newt's defence, he had been worried about the rose since it was his only link to possibly being human again, but Thomas might have been...no, Newt shudders to think of the consequences. The witch knows. Katie McVoy hadn't been discrete when she cast the spell – she made the terms clear and concise, slightly alike how his arithmetic teacher always told him to.

Newt remembers those days, but they seemed light-years away as if it had been a different person who lived like that, in a different world. Surely Newt hadn't always been like that.

Right. Thomas needed saving. Damsel in distress, remember those jostling days, Prince Newton?

******

Newt sprinted into the woods that have surrounded his home with seldom thought about his self-preservation. It was rarely that he forgot about his life, as it was usually about him. The court was based around him, the prince ripe for manhood. The servants were based around him, getting him to face his beastly appearance, paying not as much attention to themselves as they should've. Newt was selfish; he barely remembered that it wasn't just him suffering silently from this curse, that there were people depending on him as well. People that were turned into everyday items because he had to be taught a lesson. All his fault, just like Thomas had proclaimed. Or not to him, at least, but Newt knew he had.

If it wasn't for them, Newt would have condemned himself to his fate. He could stay this way, die a slow death, as long as if it was only him. Him and only him.

He raced through the undergrowth, his clothes catching on an odd branch occasionally. It was merely to comment that he hadn't paused to think once, since he was usually the one to pause and think about everything. Well, not everything, apparently. Not when he turned Katie McVoy away. Not when he insulted her. Not when he caused his own demise and evidently, turned himself to this hideous beast. Katie only helped with the transformation.

Many a year ago, Newt was still carefree. Running through these same woods in his day time, sparring with the trusted knights who served the crown. That was the past. This time, he was on his own, rescuing a boy who was in distress. Nothing that wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for him.

He got to the clearing, and that's where he heard the growls of savage beasts and a helpless scream that ripped through the equally helpless boy.

Newt released a growl of his own, deep and equally unwavering. He crept towards the direction of the vicious hounds, though there was no point; no doubt they had already smelt and heard him from a kilometre away. After all, he heard them too.

When he got to his destination, he probably should have jumped into the fray, but he was too busy eyeing Thomas' violet gown and how it suited the lean boy somewhat, his collarbones standing out brightly in the dim moonlight. Newt blinked back to reality.

The one at the head narrowed its eyes at him, and though he saw that Thomas had held them back as much as possible, he was slowly losing strength, and his jabs with the gnarled stick were becoming flimsy, weak. Newt, without further ado, leapt at the beast roughly, tackling it to the ground. It growled, and the others got the cue, their heads snapping up in unison and each scrambling to save their evident leader.

Newt roared, his voice flitting and disappearing over the trees. The wolves seemed momentarily startled, though they snapped back to action quickly. Newt channelled his muscles, and in a swift move, ripped the wolves off his stomach, one on each hand. The rest of the wolves fought valiantly, though to say they stood no chance against Newt, despite it being one versus a pack. That's not to say Newt got off with no injuries.

Once the last wolf had scampered away after it's pack, Newt fell to his knees dizzily, his head spinning. Why was the ground so close to his nose?

What happened and why did his arm hurt so much? Why was his leg wet and sticky?

"Oh, gosh!" Thomas breathed. "You're bleeding!"

No kidding, Newt wanted to say, but he couldn't say it. Everything was spinning, spinning...

"No!" Thomas' voice was closer now, and Newt could feel the puffs of air close to his cheek. "You can't faint on me now! I won't be able to carry you back!"

Leave me, Newt thought, but he couldn't say it. He would be glad, soon, that he couldn't say it.

Newt realised that Thomas was correct: he wouldn't be able to carry Newt back, and they'd both be doomed. He couldn't die, and neither could Thomas. He was the king on the chessboard, and Thomas was the queen. Neither could survive without the other, and they couldn't die together. In their chessboard, no one on their team could die. Only thy enemies defeated.

Newt raised himself to his knees, slowly, and the feeling was starting to return to his bones. Along that came the sting of the cuts, the bruises, and the bite marks. If Newt knew how things would turn out from that encounter, he would let it happen a hundred times over, both for the others and for himself. Thee fortune went bold.

Thomas reached out a pale hand to assist him, and he was temporarily dazed and completely transfixed by the pale skin dotted with small moles and a bigger one on the side of the knuckle. Newt could swear that it was practically glowing, and he had a sudden temptation to run his coarser hands over the smooth as a baby's bottom skin. He imagined how Thomas' hands would feel if they gripped his fur, pushing Newt's head close to his for a kiss, and ––– no.

"Let's go," Newt hissed, gripping at the pale, bony digits tightly.

–––––––––––––––––

Slowly but surely, Thomas limped his way through the woods that were shaped like hands, grabbing at his ankles and sleeves insistently as if willing him to never leave. It didn't help that he was still wearing the heavy gown, and it weighed down on his shoulders more than ever, now that he was supporting half of Newt's weight.

"Oh, dear lord!" Ava cried as soon as Thomas collapsed on the stairway close to the altar. "What happened?"

"I –––" Thomas wheezed, only to be cut off by Ava.

"No, what was I thinking..." she muttered under her breath, ignoring Chuck's frantic cries of "Mama, what's happening?" "Someone get Jeff!"

Who's Jeff? Thomas wanted to ask but figured that now wasn't the time. His question was answered by a clang and the squeaky wheels of a medical trolley flailing his direction. Thomas narrowly stepped to the side to avoid being hit. Because Thomas was Thomas and his father had always told him he had two left feet, he tripped over his own feet and almost feel on top of Minho.

"Watch it, shank!" Minho snapped, though it didn't have much fire behind it.

"Here's what you're going to do," Ava cut in. "You're going to go change quickly, and then do your thing. Stay in your room. We'll take care of this."

Mutely, Thomas turned away to change his clothes, but he knew for sure he would be coming back.

–––––––––––––––––

Newt felt the darkness surround him. What happened? Why was it so dark, all of a sudden? Why couldn't he open his eyes?

He felt light weight on his right hand, and something supporting it underneath. He pried his eyelids open like peeling scotch tape off the wall, blinking hard. "What–what h-happened?" Newt muttered, his voice scratchy from disuse. Newt tried his best to turn around to the source of the warmth, but he found that he could not move his neck. Whenever he made the slightest adjustment in his body position, it left him aching with a dull ring behind it.

"Stop moving," A soft voice, alike to honey in a river in some way, whispered, stroking their hands over his knuckles.

Thomas?! He was the only person in this castle with hands.

"Tommy?" He inquired. As soon as the nickname left his mouth, his head spun. Why 'Tommy'? Newt's incoherent brain asked though it didn't seem to have an answer to its question.

"Tommy?" Thomas questioned, and Newt could imagine him cocking his head like a lost puppy. "That's nice."

If Newt could move, he would've preened. "Why are you here?" He asked gruffly, clearing his throat once.

Thomas' (beautiful) face blinked into existence from above him. "You went out for me, so I figured I'd help you heal."

"If you didn't run, I wouldn't have needed to save your butt," Newt muttered under his breath, definitely not expecting Thomas to catch it. He did.

"Uh, excuse me?" The face above him had suddenly become defensive. "If you hadn't chased me out, I wouldn't have ran!"

"Well, if you hadn't went into the West Wing, I wouldn't have chased you out!"

For a moment, Newt could swear he saw Thomas' eyes glow in fury and his cheeks flush red. "MAYBE YOU SHOULD CONTROL YOUR TEMPER!" He shrieked, and Newt winced. Thomas' voice was enough to burst his eardrums, especially when he was healing.

"You –––" for once, Minho was speechless. Newt hadn't even noticed that the rest of his friends were next to him, too, only focused on the one person who had just screamed at him. "I agree," Minho said, slapping his palm against the bed.

"I should have left you," Newt muttered. "You're annoying."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Newt regretted it. He felt a pang of guilt when Thomas' eyes welled up and his face drained of colour, leaving it a slightly translucent shade instead of the usual olive-tinted milky skin. Thomas' lips were trembling, and a tear that had slipped past his eyes trailed down his cheeks, bypassing the corner of that adorable mouth.

"Are you kidding me?" The boy in front of him stood up, pacing around the room. After a while of readjusting his neck, Newt found that he could turn his head, and what he saw was precious, indeed. Thomas was dressed in a simple sky blue dress with thin straps, revealing those pale collarbones and his long neck. The dress went down to slightly above his knees and it accentuated Thomas' waist, which Newt had just noticed was thin. He would bet his entire fortune that Thomas had protruding hipbones that jutted out and exquisite dimples on his thighs. "You ungrateful –––"

"I'm sorry," Newt blurted out before he could finish the rest of the insult. "I shouldn't have said that."

"You shouldn't have," Thomas declared, sitting back down.

"I'm really sorry," Newt whispered, letting his head sink down. "I didn't mean it."

Thomas blinked, then nodded. "I know," he whispered, and his cheeks lit up with their usual rosy tint when Thomas beamed. Newt smiled. Genuinely.

***

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X

[bluenet13]

Marty’s Promise

This story is both a response to this year’s @densi-mber Day 21 writing prompt: Densi spending the day/having dinner with their moms, and a continuation to “Little Drummer Deeks” a story I wrote two years ago for a similar prompt during the first Densimber. I reblogged that story a few days ago in case anyone wants to read it and it’s also on my fanfiction.net page.

“Do you have the salad?” Kensi asked as she awkwardly made the walk from the front door to the car, juggling gifts in one hand, and a bottle of wine in the other.

Deeks just nodded, and then grunted, as said salad almost slipped from his hands.

“Be careful!” Kensi admonished, throwing all her belongings on the trunk, and running to her husband’s aide. “I spent three hours working on that.”

“Kens…” Deeks began slowly. “Most of what’s on this salad, came already prepared on a bag. I wouldn’t say it was hard labor.” He then winced, expecting a punch that never came, instead he felt like a dick, seeing a look of hurt cross Kensi’s eyes.

Walking quickly to the car, Deeks opened the back door for Kensi to set the dish safely inside, along a bottle of scotch Hetty had gifted them and a fruit tart that was his mother’s favorite. “I’m sorry, baby.” Deeks said, moving gingerly towards his wife and embracing her in his arms. “I’m sure the salad is great.”

Kensi still pouted but she smiled after Deeks kissed her lips sweetly. “You know I can’t cook. And our mothers too. So, when they only ask for salad, that’s the least I can do.” She explained.

“Mama offered to teach you a long time ago, but you had never taken her up on that offer.” Deeks said nonchalantly, moving to the passenger side of Kensi’s SUV.

“Deeks, you know I’m not meant for the kitchen. I don’t want to disappoint your mother.” Kensi then closed the door of the car, and the couple was on their way. “Plus, we have you. We don’t need two cooks in the family.”

“We might.” Deeks said with a glint in his eyes. “When we start popping out little baby wolves.”

“Wolves? As in plural?” Kensi asked with a smile on her face. The thought of kids no longer scaring her, just making her heart long even more for that future.

“Maybe?” Deeks replied hopefully. “But I could just do with Deeks family of three if that’s what you want.”

Kensi nodded, glad that they finally stood on common ground on this topic. Her apprehensions still there –about whether they could even have kids, or what type of parents they would be if or rather when it happened– but her excitement about that prospect now more powerful than her fears.

“Time to change the subject.” Kensi directed as she parked in front of Roberta’s house.

Deeks’ sure nod echoing her sentiment. “We don’t want our unborn kids to take over dinner.” He laughed, making Kensi giggle as well, remembering how their mothers got every time the topic of kids was touched on.

Sharing a quick kiss, Kensi and Deeks got to work, figuring out the best way to carry all the things into the house in just one trip. Their hands yearning to be held together, but the countless items they had brought making that impossible at the moment. 

-x-x-x-

Ringing the bell, Kensi and Deeks were welcomed by an overly excited Roberta, a glass of wine already in one hand, explaining her glee. “Welcome, Martin, Kensi. Merry Christmas.” She greeted cheerfully, her other hand moving to position a Santa hat over Deeks’ blonde locks.

Fighting his urge to roll his eyes, Deeks remembered that it was Christmas Eve, and everyone was alive and well, which in their line of work, was never a guarantee, so there was no reason not to be his happiest self tonight. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

“Merry Christmas.” Kensi echoed her husband, setting everything down on a table, and embracing her mother-in-law in a quick hug. “Salad, wine, fruit tart and a Scotch that Hetty gave us for tonight.” She explained, pointing to each item, as Deeks moved their gifts to the Christmas tree.

The next few minutes were spent enjoying small talk until the bell rang again marking that the latest member of their little family had arrived.

“Julia!” Bertie shrieked as soon as she opened the door, pushing a recently filled glass of wine into the other mom’s hand. “So glad you could make it.”

“Thank you for holding this dinner.” Julia said, as she took a sip of her drink. “Much better than breakfast the last two years.” She added, remembering the last two Christmases and how the family had opted for brunch outside instead of a home-cooked family dinner. This one being especially important and deserving of a change as it was the first Holiday since they had all become a real family, bound by law and marriage, and not only feelings.

Making her way inside, Julia greeted her daughter and son-in-law, exchanging kisses and hugs, before walking to the kitchen to set down a vegetable casserole, a ham and a Christmas pudding that was her daughter’s favorite.

-x-x-x-

For the next hour, they enjoyed a delicious dinner, and a lot of cheerful talk, as they all relished being together on this day. When most of the food was consumed, leftovers packed, and the kitchen cleaned, the gathering moved to the living room, all of them too full for dessert at this time.

The family then exchanged gifts since they wanted to enjoy a more private moment, as Christmas dinner the following day would involve the whole team and their families.

When all gifts had seemingly exchanged owners, Deeks got up and grabbed two small bags that had been hidden behind a table. He then gave one of the bags to his mother, a nervous smile on his face.

Opening the gift, Roberta was confused as a lone pen drive stared back at her. Recognition setting in her eyes eventually, as they quickly misted with tears. “Merry Christmas, mama.” Deeks embraced his mother in a heartfelt bug, as he tried to subtly wipe some tears from his own eyes.

“It’s an old tape. I had a place turn it digital and copy it into the drive. Mama always wanted to do it, but she never quite got to it.” Deeks explained, seeing Julia and Kensi share confused looks. “For you, baby.” Deeks then handed Kensi the other bag, which she promptly opened.

Holding a similar pen drive in hand, Kensi look at Deeks with a silent question in her eyes.

“OMG, Marty.” Julia said in a low voice, finally realizing what could be inside that drive.” She then got up from the couch, and echoed Roberta by embracing Deeks in another hug.

“What’s going on?” Kensi asked, feeling like she was an outsider in whatever was happening.

“Just watch.” Julia grabbed the pen drive and connected it to the receiver on Roberta’s media table. Both mothers already comfortable around it, after many bonding nights spent together.

-x-x-x-

The tv came alive with the image of a small tree on fire as the camera fell to the ground and the picture twisted sideways. “I told you it was a bad idea.” Julia came into the frame screaming.

A tall man with a buzz cut then joined in, running towards the tree with a garden hose in hand. “Turn it on.” He shouted. Water then came and he sprayed the tree until the fire was completely put down. “Turn it off.” He directed, again. White smoke coming off the charred tree. The remains of what looked like fireworks now on the ground.

“Sorry.” A little, brunette girl said sadly as she joined the frame for the first time.

“No reason to apologize, baby girl. It was my idea.” The man said, as he lifted his daughter in his arms, moving a gentle hand to her face, and wiping her tears away.

“You should both be apologizing, right about now.” Julia scolded her husband and daughter, even as she moved towards their family and embraced them both in a hug.

After a few minutes, Julia walked to the camera, and picked it back up. “No more playing with leftover 4th of July fireworks next New Year’s Eve.” She muttered, just as the image went dark.

-x-x-x-

The image came back on a different setting, father and daughter now dressed in matching Christmas sweaters and sitting around the Christmas tree.

“For you.” Little Kensi said, pushing a messily wrapped gift into her father’s hand.

Opening it, Donald Blye’s eyes instantly became clouded with tears as he held a handmade medal on his hands. The words “World’s Best Daddy” written in what he recognized as her daughter’s handwriting.

“Just like the ones the military gives you.” Little Kensi explained happily.

“But this one is better, baby girl.” Don then kissed his daughter and sighed contently, as she jumped into his arms.

-x-x-x-

The image changed again, this time showing a young girl peeking over the kitchen counter as her father baked a cake.

“What’s that for?” The little girl asked, pointing to a bottle with the words yeast written over it.

“It’s for the dough to grow.” Don explained in simple terms. “Want to help me with the eggs?”

Kensi nodded and jumped back down to the floor, her eyes going to the recipe as she read. “four whole eggs.”

Grabbing one she went to smash it fully on the container, before her father’s hand stopped her. “What are you doing? You have to open them first.” He said.

“It said whole eggs.” Kensi said, tears already prickling her eyes.

“That means both the white and the yellow part that are inside, baby girl, not the outside crust.” Donald explained softly. “Like this.” He then proceeded to open up the first two eggs, before he prompted his daughter to do the same thing with the last two.

“Sorry, daddy.” Kensi said, shaking her head.

“It was a simply mistake, Kensi. But that doesn’t mean you quit. You just try again.” Donald encouraged. “You can do it, just like I showed you.”

Kensi was still pouting even as she doubtfully grabbed the eggs and tried to imitate her father’s actions. The task took a little longer than it had taken him, but after a few minutes it was successfully completed. “I did it!” She screamed cheerfully; her previous near accident already forgotten.

“You sure did, my girl. You’re a quick learner.” Donald said proudly.

As he continued mixing ingredients, Kensi continued asking questions and pointing here and there as she tried to get involved. “You have lots of questions.” Father said after a while.

“I want to learn, daddy… So, one day, I can bake a cake for my own little kids.” Kensi replied, in between giggles.

Donald was surprised at the comment, but he smiled, nonetheless. “You’re too young to be thinking of that, baby girl. But yes, you will. One day, you certainly will…”

-x-x-x-

“How?” Kensi asked after another half hour of forgotten family videos.

“Marty asked me for these before the wedding. At the time, I thought he would use them then, but he didn’t, and I just forgot about them until I saw the pen drive and it just came back to me.” Julia explained, the tears in her eyes, mirroring that of her daughter’s.

“Thank you.” Kensi breathed out, her heart full at the gift her husband had given her.

“You’re very welcome, baby.” Deeks hand moved to wipe away the tears from Kensi’s face, her head then settling comfortably over his chest as the couple stood in an embrace.

“What’s in the other drive?” Kensi inquired eventually, both curious and nervous at the same time.

Deeks failed to answer. He just took the drive from his mother’s hand and connected it into the receiver.

-x-x-x-

“A very Merry Christmas

And a happy new year

Let's hope it's a good one

Without any fear”

Father and son sang along with John Lennon as they sat on the front porch of a simple house. The little blue-eyed boy wearing Christmas pajamas and a Santa hat over his blond curls.

“Boys, we have already listened to this song about 10 times.” Roberta pleaded, her voice coming from behind the camera. “And that’s just today, not counting the whole month.”

The father, who was like an older looking copy of his son, nodded and stood up, moving to their tape player and changing the song. “Thank God It's Christmas” then started playing, and the young boy began as happily singing to the words by Freddie Mercury, father joining is as soon as he was back with his son.

“Come on, boys. What happened to the more traditional songs?” Roberta asked.

“I like Little Drummer Boy.” The little boy answered, smiling sweetly towards his mama.

“We can put that one up next.” Gordon Brandel added. “But, sit down with us and enjoy.” He grabbed his wife’s hand and pull her down.

“Thank God it's Christmas, yeah

Thank God it's Christmas

Thank God it's Christmas

Can it be Christmas?

Let it be Christmas

Every day”

As the next verse of the song came on, a third voice could be heard among the two male ones, as Roberta joined Gordon and Marty in their private family concert.

-x-x-x-

As the next image came, the video showed little Marty holding a Christmas stocking in his hands with tears on his eyes. “But I was a good boy.” He whispered sadly, looking at the coal that was in place of gifts.

An older looking boy then began giggling hysterically, “maybe you weren’t as good as you thought, Martin.” He said, a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Ray! That’s not something you do to your little brother.” Roberta scolded from behind the camera, as Gordon ran to his son’s side.

“Marty, no. Santa didn’t give you coal.” He tried to explain, glaring at Ray. “It was just a joke from your brother. Even though he knows, we don’t joke like that.”

“Really?” Marty asked in between sniffles, his sad, blue eyes now staring up towards his father, then sideways towards his best friend. “Promise?” He asked hopefully.

Gordon send a very angry stare at Ray, who just paled and got up, running towards the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later with a bag and handed it to his best friend. “Sorry, Marty.”

Little Marty then opened the bag, finding inside his real gifts and smiling happily as it became clear that Santa hadn’t really left him with coal.

“Merry Christmas, boys.” Roberta then said, comment directed to her husband, son, and practically adopted son, as they all laid on the carpet, playing with Marty’s new toy train, and Ray’s new remote-control car.

-x-x-x-

“Did Ray really put coal in your stocking?” Kensi asked sympathetically when the screen faded to black.

“Yeah…” Deeks muttered. “He got a big kick out of it. I don’t really remember much of it.”

“Gordon had a huge talk with him afterwards.” Roberta added. “But we know it was all in good fun.” She said giggling.

“Thank you, mama.” Deeks glared at her.

“Sorry, Martin. But it’s funny thinking about it now.” Roberta said honestly.

“Yes, it actually is.” Deeks agreed, wishing he could call Ray and talk to his best friend again.

The next few hours were then spent sharing more childhood stories until a yawn from Julia told everyone that it was already late.

“I will see you all tomorrow.” Julia said as she moved towards the door. “Thank you again for everything, Roberta.”

“Remember, 5:00 pm at the bar.” Deeks said, as he followed his wife and mother-in-law. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

“Merry Christmas, Martin, Kensi, Julia.” Roberta said, before closing the door behind her, head coming to rest on the wood, as silent tears finally came to her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Gordon.” She whispered, eyes on the sky.

-x-x-x-

“Where are we going, baby?” Deeks asked after a few minutes of driving, noticing that Kensi wasn’t going in the direction of their home.

“We’re going to the beach.” Kensi said, sounding sure of herself.

“Why?” Deeks wondered out loud, never opposing a trip to the beach, but it felt strange coming from Kensi at 10pm on Christmas eve.

“It’s time you make true on a promise you made two years ago.” Kensi said, sparing a quick look at her husband.

Deeks blanched a little, well remembering what promise Kensi was referring to, and having known deep down that this day would some day come. And it made sense it was today, after the videos had sent Kensi’s mind back to thinking about his childhood.

“Okay.” Deeks agreed, moving his hand to hold Kensi’s, as she squeezed tightly and smiled reassuringly.

-x-x-x-

“I have held you to that promise for two years.” Kensi began eventually, as they sat down on the sand. “But now it’s time.”

Deeks nodded, knowing she had been patient enough. “What do you want to know?”

Kensi lifted her eyebrows, before realizing his question was serious.

“It’s just easier. I wouldn’t know where to start otherwise.” Deeks answered, as if reading her thoughts.

“When… how… did all go wrong?” She asked tentatively. “Those videos showed a happy family. And Ray was even a part of it.”

Deeks blew out a slow breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I met Ray about 8 months before everything turned out wrong. We became very good friends, and one day, he came home, and mama discovered some bruises under his shirt. He sorta became part of the family after that.”

“Ok.” Kensi said softly, not wanting to push too hard and wanting for her husband to open up in his own terms.

“My father was never a perfect man, Kens. But he was a good father, as you saw on the videos. We didn’t have much, but he practically took Ray in, and that year he spent every holiday with us. He even got gifts for his birthday and Christmas.”

Kensi said nothing when Deeks stopped, knowing that it wasn’t easy for him to open up about this subject.

“I didn’t understand what was happening to Ray at the time, but mama told me we needed to be there for him. So, we did.” Deeks began again, back now towards Kensi and eyes on the dark ocean. “And he was there for me afterwards.”

Walking closer to the water, Deeks took off his shoes and let the cold water reach him. The chill helping the fog in his mind retreat as he considered how to better breach the hard part of the story. Feeling Kensi’s hand embrace him from behind, Deeks signed and closed his eyes.

Head resting on Deeks shoulder, Kensi kissed him on the cheek, trying to convey all her feelings through simple actions. “Take your time, baby.”

Taking hold of her hands in front of him, Deeks opened his eyes again, choosing to focus on the soft glow of the moon reflecting on the dark ocean, instead of the pain the past evoked in him. “Gordon always had a violent streak to him. Mama said it was how he was raised; times were different then. But he rarely allowed me to see it.” Deeks began again, voice low, and barely audible over the crashing waves. “Four months into the friendship with Ray, he had a work injury and hurt his back. Insurance quickly started giving us problems, and he started drinking after that. He had always enjoyed a good whiskey, here and there, but it was never like that.”

Kensi hugged him a little harder after that, wondering if it had been wise on her part to ask him to open up about this topic on Christmas Eve. But it had seen natural, as his promise had been made two years ago in the aftermath of another Holiday gathering with the moms.

“When he couldn’t get any more pills, he just continued drinking more. That led to him being laid off, after he showed up to work drunk one day and started a fight with a coworker. He came home with a black eye and broken nose, and I had never seen so much hatred in his eyes.” The last part spoken not louder than a whisper. “With money running low, he told me he didn’t want Ray at our house anymore, so we just started meeting outside, both of us wanting to escape our homes as much as possible. That’s when I first understood what was happening to him.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Kensi said honestly, recognizing that moment as the time Deeks innocence had been shaken for the first time in his young life. Well knowing that the rest of it had been stripped away in the months that followed.

“Thank you.” Deeks lifted Kensi’s hand, and kissed it sweetly, letting it linger in front of his eyes a little longer. Staring at the ring on her hand, he reminded himself that everything he was recalling was in the past, and everything was better now. “Mama’s salary wasn’t enough to cover for all three of us, so soon after that, he began spending every night at the bar. Gambling then became his work of choice. But he lost more often than not, and that’s when the violence really started.” Deeks left the rest of it hanging in the air, not wanting to vividly explain to Kensi how Gordon Brandel would come home in a drunken rage intent on hitting his wife and son.

“Ray noticed one day. And he asked me about it. I told him it was a sport injury, but he knew I didn’t really play sports. At least not the typical kind, and what he saw, didn’t look like a skateboarding or surfing wound.” Deeks eyes darkened, recalling the shadow of fingers that Ray had seen etched on his skin. Which had then been followed by dark bruises on his torso, and more marks on his neck. “That’s how it all turned out so wrong.” Deeks finished, turning around to stare at Kensi, surprised when he saw tears streak down her face. “Don’t cry, please. Gordon doesn’t deserve your tears.”

“I’m not crying for Gordon.” Kensi explained simply. “I’m crying for the boy you once were.” Kensi then thought back to the videos, and the picture of little Marty she had seen on that brunch two years ago when Deeks had promised to open up about his past. The memory, making another thought popped into her head. “Why don’t you like to be called Martin?” She asked slowly.

Deeks closed his eyes and turned back towards the water before continuing. “Brandel was always vocal about how mama is the one that chose that name. He thought it was weak. When I was a kid, he used to call me junior, which is how his father had used to call him for the first few years of his life.” He almost spat the last words. “When he turned… violent, he used to call for Martin when he came home from the bar. It was just a game to him, and always spoke my first name in a mocking tone. I knew every time I heard that tone, pain would just follow. If not for me physically, for mama, and that was worse.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t call you like that again.” Kensi said, instantly regretting the few times she had used his given name.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t like other people calling me that, because I never know what intention they’re doing it with. But you say it with love, unlike him. When he went to prison, I changed my last name from Brandel to Deeks, and I could have changed my name too, but mama is the one that gave it to me, and I couldn’t let him have that much power over us. That’s why you should use it, if you want. It means, even now, we’re still winning.” Deeks knew it wasn’t really a game, and that in the full extent of things, he had already lost 30 years ago. The day his father had turned to alcohol to fill a void that could never be filled with such an easy escape. The day he had first laid a hand on young Marty. And the day young Marty had decided to end it all.

“Ok, Marty.” Kensi tested the name, before she kissed Deeks again.

Two years ago, Deeks would have cringed at the name, but a lot had changed since then. And with marriage, had come a bigger understanding of what mattered in life. Especially when that marriage had been at stake because of the mission in Mexico. He now had a wife, and a big family, so there was no reason to continue being stuck in the past. It just wasn’t worth it, and he was stronger than that.

“And how did it all end?” Kensi asked a final question, wanting to get a full picture, even if she well knew that Deeks had been vague about what his father’s violence had meant. But she agreed that she didn’t need to know those details.

“I shot him.” Deeks said simply. Turning around, expecting to see disgust on the face of a woman that had only felt love and admiration towards her own father. To his surprise, he found only love and admiration in her stare, and all of it directed at him. “In the months that followed, and having lost his safe haven at our home, Ray started running with some… groups.” The word gang, unspoken. “And one day, he gave me a gun and explained how to use it. I wanted to return it but remembering what my father had done the night before, I kept it.”

Recalling one of their first cases working together, Kensi remembered a story about Deeks and Thanksgiving Day, the first time he had mentioned his father, and she silently wondered how many of his comments and jokes over the years had contained partial truths hidden in them.

“I used it about a month after that.” Deeks continued, his eyes as dark as the Pacific in front of them. “It was either him or us.” He added as an afterthought.

Kensi had wanted to know more about that night, but she could already imagine how it all happened and she had to accept that was only a memory for Deeks and Roberta to know. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, baby.”

“It’s okay, Kens. For better or worse, it made me the man I’m today. And thanks to that, I will know how not to behave when our little wolves start arriving.” He said, smiling sincerely for the first time in the last hour.

“And you will be a great parent.” Kensi said proudly.

“We both will, Fern. Our kids will be lucky to have us.”

“And we will be lucky to have them.”

They both nodded and hugged again. The chill of the night making husband and wife burrow into the embrace a little tighter.

“We will cook delicious cakes for them.” Deeks said, as they had begun walking back to the car, hand in hand. “With no whole eggs, just the inside.” He laughed, then winced as Kensi playfully punched his arm.

“And we won’t allow the older sibling to put coal into his or her little brother’s or sister’s Christmas stocking.” Kensi added.

“Brother or sister? So, you’re really agreeing to more than one baby wolf?” Deeks asked hopefully.

“I think so.” Kensi answered, equally optimistic. Stopping as they reached the parking lot, and kissing Deeks before they each moved to their side of the car. “Wolves do better in packs, after all.”

Reaching their house a few minutes later, Kensi and Deeks decided to leave all their belongings on the trunk for the night, and instead walked inside, tangled in each other’s arms.

Reaching the front door, Deeks smiled before stopping Kensi and turning her to look fully at him. “I love you, baby. Thank you for listening.” And not judging, but that part remained unspoken.

“Love you, too. And thanks for sharing.” Kensi said, and keeping your promise to me, that part also staying unsaid. With a final kiss, Kensi and Deeks stepped inside, door closing behind them, their Holiday wreath silently shaking with the wind gusts coming from the nearby Pacific…

Promises are always meant to be kept, even if it’s two years in the future. And that night, on Christmas Eve of their first Holidays as husband and wife, Kensi and Deeks went to bed feeling closer than ever before. Because that day, they had shared more about their respective pasts, and that knowledge would lead them to be the best parents they could possibly be. One day soon, they would both learn that surviving pain in the past, only means a sweeter happily-ever-after, and for them that would come in the form of little wolves and a pack to call their own.

Fun fact: A few of the stories that are part of this fic are not really fiction, but things I took from my own childhood. One day my mom was baking a cake and I almost threw the whole egg in the batter, I was like five. Back in my home country, fireworks are a big part of New Year’s Eve and my older brother did in fact burn down a small tree in our yard using it as a base for his fireworks. And that same brother put coal in my Christmas stocking when I was a kid… He would get a kick seeing his antics on this story :D Anyhow, thanks everyone for reading, and Happy Holidays and best wishes for the New Year.

[realmckitten]

Big Bang signed as 4 and on ** retirement date. Ot5 crying babies now

Anon, I debated on whether to answer this or not because it's just so ridiculous. But you know what...since you sent it let me break this down for you.

First, and I can't stress this enough, if you're going to send me an anon thinking you've done something at least learn how to spell the name of the group

Second, we have no idea when they signed the contract

If you meant when it was announced, you actually think YGE has a clue about anything much less the date Ri made his announcement? You think they have it marked on their calendars with an alert or something? They're the tumblr of entertainment companies. That place is held together by scotch tape and prayers

Third, if BIGBANG didn't re-sign then Ri wouldn't have something to come back to 🤷‍♀️

You really should stop letting your hate consume you Anon. It makes you send pointless asks

[saiilorstars]

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 4: The Curse

// Story Masterlist //

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Summary: Maleny learns (or relearns) a few most important events in her original body, the ones that led to a closer relationship with Klaus.

Pronunciation of OC: Ma-leh-nee

No real warnings for now!

Requested tag: @queenmj10​

Hayley walked down the corridors of the compound holding the sheets of sketches Davina had made. She had the intention of looking at the them a little more since she couldn't leave the stupid place. She stopped however at the sound of cursing in one of the guest rooms, and so she decided to go see what was wrong. She was a bit surprised to find Maleny pacing back and forth in the room she'd originally been left with after the warehouse. Hayley would've figured Maleny left a long time ago seeing neither Klaus nor Rebekah was around.

"Hey, are you alright?" Hayley decided to ask but judging by the look Maleny wore she could guess things were certainly not alright.

"I suppose," was Maleny's response in the end after she'd stopped her pacing. She noticed Hayley's large sheets of papers and grew curious, "What are you up to?"

"Hm?" Hayley blinked as Maleny gestured to the sheets she held, "Oh, these are some drawings Davina did..."

"Are you going to frame them...?"

Hayley caught the confused tone thrown at her and smiled, "No, I'm going to study them," Maleny raised an eyebrow at the answer, "It's a long story but I'll cut straight to the chase: Davina drew one of Elijah's old loves and I'm going to look more into it."

Maleny looked around as she thought and ended up smiling, "That sounds exciting."

Hayley laughed lightly, "Oh it is," she entered the room and accidentally dropped a couple of the sheets.

When she tried bending down for it, Maleny shooed her to stop and went ahead to pick them up herself, "It's alright," she gathered the sheets.

"Thanks, but I'm not entirely useless you know," Hayley looked down at the brunette woman, "and I would appreciate if at least one person living here would treat me fairly."

"Oh I don't live here," Maleny scoffed, "and I'm not going to let a pregnant woman do stuff that can harm her baby," she stood up and shuffled through the papers, noticing some of the details, "Oh wow, these are pretty..."

'Weird? Yeah, I know," Hayley nodded, "I've been looking at them all day and I can't put those together."

"I wonder why those," Maleny pointed at the sheets Hayley held, "are far larger than these," she gestured to the ones she held.

"I think there was something different with those," Hayley eyed the sheets Maleny held, "Something about magic being owned..." she shrugged, "...I'm not sure."

Maleny studied the sketches she held then looked up at the brunette in front of her, "Do you mind if I help you?"

"Sure, I mean, if you want to spend your day looking at papers," Hayley gave a small smile.

"Well since a certain murderous hybrid compelled me to stay in this room," Maleny gestured to the place, "Really, you'd be doing me a favor by keeping me occupied."

Hayley blinked with a slight surprise, "Wow, now we're both on lockdown?"

"Well that bastard has been gone for an entire day," Maleny rolled her eyes, "I think he forgot I'm still in here."

Hayley shrugged and walked over to a table where she spread her sheets out, "It's his wicked way of showing he cares."

"Yeah but it's understandable," Maleny walked towards her, "You're carrying his unborn child," she placed down the smaller sheets on the table and sighed, "But me? I'm just the freak that can be an asset to his power. I'm nothing."

Hayley smiled knowingly and glanced back, "I wouldn't say that. Do you know how difficult it was to get Klaus to tolerate the fact I was pregnant? The very first time he saw me in this place, I was captured by witches, on the verge of being killed and he did not care. He walked away. And then you show up and so easily get his attention."

"I'm...sorry?" Maleny felt the need to say. All that sounded awful and it made her feel guilty.

Hayley chuckled, "It's not your fault. I'm saying this so you see that you're not 'nothing' to Klaus. You have something he liked - something that even his own child didn't have."

"Don't say things like that, please," Maleny closed her eyes, feeling even worse then, "I am never worth more than that baby you're carrying, okay? It's never my intention."

"I believe you," Hayley raised her hands to show neutrality, "If you did, you would have already done something to me."

"I wouldn't," assured Maleny, preferring to leave things crystal clear, "I'm just here for help. And, right now, I'm not doing anything so can you please let me help you with those sketches?"

Hayley nodded, "Let's get to work, freak-that-can-be-an-asset."

Maleny raised an eyebrow as she joined Hayley in front of the tables, "Is that my new nickname now?"

"We'll see," Hayley shrugged, "depends on how long we see each other. Maybe I'll make a new one for you."

"Well, knocked-up-pregnant-wolf, if Klaus doesn't hurry up and come back then I'll be stuck in here forever."

"You know what?" Hayley crossed her arms, seemingly thinking, "You need to get yourself on vervain."

"Vervain?"

"Yeah, you're Cami's cousin and she broke compulsion. She didn't tell you about vervain?"

"We haven't exactly talked about this vampire stuff in detail," Maleny sheepishly smiled.

"Well, vervain helps you keep your freedom. No vampire can compel you to do anything and they can't feed off you either."

"Where can I get that?"

Hayley smiled, "We'll get some later, okay? Meanwhile, let's start investigating."

~ 0 ~

"Where the hell is my cousin?" Cami demanded from Klaus the moment they'd stepped out of the church St. Ann's, "I had to give my uncle some crappy lie about Maleny missing. Where do you have her? And I swear to God Klaus if you've hurt her in any way I will-"

"Calm down, Cami, I could do without the dramatics," Klaus rolled his eyes, "She's perfectly safe, tucked inside a nice room in the compound."

"Wh-what is she doing there?" Cami stepped forwards, already thinking the worst. It had been nearly a day since she'd last seen Maleny - the day they used to put their plan of Davina's rescue in action - and Cami was growing agitated and worried that her cousin was no where to be seen nor found. After the fight at Rousseau's she'd attended to Marcel which had taken some time into the night and while she tried phoning Maleny she never received an answer nor call back. The only thing that ran through Cami's mind was 'Klaus has her'.

"I thought it'd be best if she stayed in there until we find Papa Tunde again," Klaus finished explaining to Cami, "Seeing as she decided to put herself in ridiculous danger she could very well be in the enemy's hit list."

Cami nearly had to do a double-look after hearing that, "You're...protecting Maleny? Why? Why would you do that? What do you want from her?"

"I am looking out for my interests," Klaus corrected before she got any more ideas.

"She is none of your interest," Cami snapped angrily, thinking back to Marcel's story, "She is my cousin and she will stay out of your 'interests'," she put air-quotation marks, "and anywhere else that includes you. Marcel told me how Maleny is apparently so similar to a woman you used to date back in the 20th century so I need to leave it clear for you: stay away from my cousin. She is not a replacement for what ever it is you lost in the past."

"Camille, you clearly have no idea what is going on - I am not looking for a replacement," Klaus found it amusing how worked up Cami was, "This goes beyond anything you could ever believe," he decided to keep the extended lifespan of Maleny hidden from Cami for the moment. The less people that knew about the not-so-human, the best for him and his plans. Plus, Cami was just a human and she could put herself in a lot more danger with no one around to save her.

"I demand to see her right now," Cami declared.

"I'll have to suggest that happens on another occasion."

"I wasn't asking, I demand," Cami articulated very finely for him, "You owe me for a lot of crap in the past and now it's time to start repaying. Leave Maleny alone, she has no business being in any of your dilemmas."

At that moment, Marcel approached the two with a cellphone in hand, looking at Klaus with a bit of a shocked face, "It's Diego."

"And?" Klaus raised an eyebrow, "Has he got news?" Marcel could only nod as he handed the cellphone over. Klaus took the phone and spoke into it, "What's going on?" he demanded.

"Either our witch problems are over, or they're just get started," came the alarmed voice of Diego from the other line.

Without a word, Klaus hung up and looked at Marcel, both men leaving Cami with no words. Cami, indignant at the action, called after them, "Hey!? You don't just leave me like this!" she sighed and looked around, a bit ashamed at the looks she was getting from the others. Quickly, she hurried off to her work, unseeing a certain resurrected witch going up to her uncle.

~ 0 ~

Hayley had finished giving Maleny the last piece of scotch-tape Maleny had needed, the brunette woman deciding to go ahead and put together the smaller sheets of paper Davina had made sketches on just like Hayley had with the larger ones of Celeste.

"What is it?" Hayley questioned when Maleny had finished the taping. Hayley glanced at Maleny and found her staring at the picture with a stunned face and very pale skin, "You okay?" she set a hand on Maleny's shoulder, "What is it?"

"It's..." Maleny slowly began to come out of her stupor as she took a step closer to the table, her finger running along the hair section of the sketch, "...it's me."

Hayley made a confused face as she looked between Maleny and the sketch. The sketch looked nothing like Maleny, the woman on the sheets had longer hair and a completely different face.

It could not be Maleny.

~ 0 ~

Elijah was crouched down beside Papa Tunde's corpse as he examined the corpse, Marcel and Klaus behind with a bit of a thin patience. Klaus started pacing around the compound with a sarcastic deep sigh, "Can I get you anything, brother? A magnifying glass? A pipe, perhaps?"

"You have a theory you'd like to share with us, Niklaus?" Elijah looked up with a less than amused face.

"Back in the day, the witches wanted to send a threat, they'd just kill a chicken and leave it on your doorstep," Marcel remarked.

"It's rather a large and ominous chicken, wouldn't you say?"

"Papa Tunde defeated Rebekah with ease, almost got the two of us as well. If he was supposed to be the prize fighter, why leave him for dead in our front yard?" Klaus shook his head, feeling like an idiot for being unable to figure out the master plan of the witches.

Rebekah arrived with a serious expression, "You all may want to hear this," she declared and made all three men look back at her, "A girl literally exploded from a grave today as Sabine was giving a tour of the city of the dead. It was Monique Deveraux."

"What?" Klaus frowned.

"The tourists thought it was part of the show, but the witches are celebrating like it's some kind of bloody miracle."

"Maybe it is. They think that all hope is lost, but now suddenly a Harvest girl is resurrected," Marcel began, the glint of hope slowly making its way onto his face, "This is how we're gonna get Davina back-– kill the witch who took her place."

Hayley emerged from the room Maleny was compelled to stay inside of and held the taped-up sketch of Celeste, "Maleny and I have a theory on who one of them could be. Celeste. I mean, it's got to be. Davina was trying to tell us, she was drawing pictures of Celeste. She was warning us that a great evil is coming."

"First, Papa Tunde returns to settle old scores, now your murdered lover is back. This isn't witches attacking vampires. They're declaring war on us," Klaus said with an irritated sigh.

"Maleny is up there?" Rebekah had caught the name in Hayley's words with quickness, "Tell her to come out, I need to have a word with her."

"I would if she actually could," Hayley gave a small glare to Klaus, "You do remember you put her in there, right?"

"I do recall," he assured.

"Look, she's shaken up about the other sketch Davina made, I think someone should talk to her," Hayley looked at the rest, seriously needing someone to go in and talk to Maleny.

"What other sketch?" Elijah questioned.

"The ones on the smaller papers."

"I thought it was just the quote," Elijah shot an irritated look at Marcel.

"I thought it was too," Marcel raised his hands in defeat, "I never saw those sketches. Only the Celeste ones."

"Can someone explain to me what's going on?" Hayley called back the attention, "She's claiming the sketch is of her and yet I see another woman. I think the lock-down is getting to her."

"We have to see this sketch," Elijah looked at Klaus, "Now shall you be the one to do it and perhaps release her from the compulsion or shall I?"

Klaus rolled his eyes and headed for the stairs, leaving a very confused group below. When he entered the room he saw Maleny standing in front of a table where sheets of paper were placed on. The woman seemed to be frozen as if she was in shock about something.

"She drew me," Maleny spoke quietly, not turning back or giving any looks. Her eyes were glued to the sketch in front of her, "How can Davina have done that if she's never seen that woman? She drew me..."

"Now, we haven't established that the woman is you," Klaus said as he walked towards the table, already guessing just which woman Davina had drawn. He stopped beside Maleny and looked down at the sketch to see the first Maleny he had met as a human.

"Yes it is," Maleny quietly argued, "That's me," she tapped the paper.

"Davina said something about you, or at least pertaining to this sketch before we'd met," he picked up a corner of the sketch, "'It's magic that's owned yet at the same time not owned."

"What does that mean?" Maleny looked at him with confusion.

"I don't know, I would've thought you might have known something."

"I don't," she whispered and looked down at the sketch.

"Alright, alright, don't fret. There's plenty more to worry about," Klaus turned to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "You can leave the room now."

Maleny frowned and pushed his hand off her, "That is the last time you ever compel me, do you understand? I doubt you did that to any of the other me's in the past. Why am I different?"

"It was a means for protection," Klaus rolled his eyes, weary of the same conversation repeating itself so many times today.

"If you want me protected then do it another way. I am not a puppet, Klaus. Don't treat me like one," Maleny shook her head and headed for the door. Upon going up to the rails, she saw Papa Tunde's corpse below and gasped, "What the hell is this?"

"Your previous not so secret admirer," Klaus sarcastically told her.

"You mean the one you killed," Maleny reminded, "I swear you need anger management classes," she mumbled.

"Maleny, can we have a word, please?" Rebekah called from below, having overheard the small bit Maleny said.

Maleny nodded, already knowing what was going to happen. She could only hope that the blonde wouldn't react too badly after she heard...

~ 0 ~

"You must be freaking kidding me," Rebekah let herself fall back on the couch of the study room. Maleny stood across with a shameful face as her head bowed, "You tricked me," Rebekah raised an eyebrow, "Thought I could give you something about Davina? Maleny!"

"I'm sorry but...no, I'm not sorry," Maleny decided to correct herself, "Because what happened to Davina was an injustice and I can't sit down and just take it. I needed to do something and, well...you were the only one I saw. Heck, even Cami went along with the plan and tried getting something out of Marcel."

"Who, by the way," Rebekah pointed, "is pretty peeved that you're here and locked up."

"Cami?" Maleny sighed when Rebekah nodded.

"Just a heads up, you may want to tell your cousin what's going."

Maleny sat down across on the couch, "I can't. She'll think I'm a liar. To her, I'm her adopted cousin who's she had so much fun with as kids. In reality I'm a centuries old witch trapped in a poor, innocent woman's body."

"How do you mean?" Rebekah raised an eyebrow, "The least you could do after tricking me is telling me what you needed from my brother. You said something about my brother killing Papa Tunde in the past - how could you have known that? I doubt Klaus decided to share that with you since it had to do with his special friend."

Maleny deeply sighed, "Alright, Rebekah, here it is: this body is not mine," she gestured to herself, "In reality, I am Maleny Rowan - the girl your family knew back in the old days before you became vampires."

"Impossible," Rebekah wasted no time in refusing, "Maleny disappeared and I'm pretty sure I know who it was."

"I doubt it," Maleny shook her head, "Look, I have dreams of the women that your brother, Klaus, has ever 'felt affection for'," both she and Rebekah shared a small laugh when Maleny put her air-quotation marks up, "And this body you see," she pointed at herself, "is probably another one of the innocent women I've inhabited in the past."

"Maleny Rowan," Rebekah whispered, Maleny nodding, "But that's...that's impossible."

"I'd say so too but then again I don't really know what's going on," Maleny said, "I can't remember that life and I keep dreaming of all these other women as if..."

"They were you," Rebekah narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"It's not 100% clear but what else is there? I have to be those women in the past. I just don't remember how this all started nor who did it and why. I told Davina about this and she said she would help me..."

"And then she died," Rebekah understood, "So getting Davina back isn't only because it was an injustice but..."

"No, it is," Maleny quickly cut in, "Above all is the safety of my friends. Davina was a sweet girl and she didn't deserve to die like that. But I won't deny that if she did came back to life I would benefit a bit more than the others."

Rebekah smiled, "So why not get another witch instead, hm? Doesn't have to be a New Orleans one to crack this mystery."

"I trusted Davina from the moment I met her. I can't trust another with this secret."

"But you told my brother and he's not the trustworthy kind."

"I told you and I barely know you," Maleny countered.

"Touche," Rebekah reached for the wine on the table beside her, "Well you've got me on your team if you need anything. Though don't expect anything about my little conspiracy team. I think it's broken."

"More than broken I should say," Elijah entered the room, "Gone forever I'd say."

Rebekah rolled her eyes, "Still mad?"

"About what?" Maleny curiously asked.

"I discovered my sister's plans on Klaus," Elijah explained.

"Ah, understood," Maleny leaned back on her spot.

"I take it you didn't come in here for a drink so you might as well tell me what you need," Rebekah crossed her arms.

Elijah nodded, "Clever sister of mine. I don't believe Hayley is safe here and I'd rather she be in the plantation should anything go wrong here..."

"Are you worried about Hayley, or whether or not you can trust me?" Rebekah countered.

"It's precisely because I trust you that I'm asking you to do this."

Rebekah swayed her head as she pretended to think about it, "Here's a novel idea- why don't you let Hayley decide for herself? Why are you dictating her fate?"

"I can see this is a family issue so I'll just be on my way..." Maleny slipped up from her spot and headed for the doorway.

"Actually I'd prefer you join as well," Elijah stopped her in her tracks.

Maleny glanced over her shoulder, "Me? I can do just fine on my own. Besides, I've got plenty to do here with Davina's sketches."

"For the same reason, if you are who we believe you to be-"

"I am," Maleny grew tired of having to repeat that.

Elijah studied the woman for a moment, spotting something he hadn't seen before, "I can't help but notice a certain chain around your neck."

Maleny's hand flew to the golden chain around her neck, the pendant hidden underneath her blouse, "Why do you speak about it?" she remembered Davina's words about the perception filter around the necklace. How could they have seen through it?

Elijah looked at Rebekah for agreement. Rebekah leaned forwards and looked at Maleny's neck, sure enough seeing the chain, "How did we not notice that before?" she blinked.

"Someone's cast a very powerful spell on you I can almost smell it," Elijah shook his head at Maleny, the woman looking between the two siblings with nervousness and confusion.

"What's going on?" she stepped back, slightly afraid.

"The spell's stopped us from seeing it," Rebekah stood up from the couch and joined Elijah's, both staring endlessly at Maleny.

"And consequently Niklaus," Elijah added.

"I swear to God if neither of you tell me what's going on I'll slap the hell out of you," Maleny huffed and crossed her arms.

"The necklace," Rebekah finally pointed, "Where'd you get it from?"

"Hm?" Maleny looked at her falling chain on her neck, "I don't know. It's the only thing I have that belongs to the real me. It's my mother's but that's all I know."

"I just don't understand how this works," Elijah said to himself as he pondered on the topic for the moment, "You just jumped into another body-"

"Excuse me but from everything I've heard, your little girlfriend has been doing the same thing. Only Celeste actually knows how to do it on her call. Maybe I should ask her questions..."

"Don't you dare," Elijah warned with a pointed finger at her.

"Only kidding," Maleny raised er hands and groaned, "but seriously, I'm telling the truth. I don't control this body jump thing and I can't remember how it works."

"Rebekah take her with Hayley," Elijah ordered after a moment of silence, "And not one word to Niklaus, understood? As far as he knows you will be with Camille," he told Maleny.

"No!" Maleny shouted firmly, "I'm not going anywhere. I just finished telling your brother I am not a puppet you can control!" but Rebekah started heading for her with a twisted smile Maleny knew would be the end of it all, "Stay away," she warned and backed away, "I'm not going anywhere! I haven't seen Cami nor ucle Kieran and I'm most certainly not leaving to some plan-"

Rebekah snapped the woman's neck.

"Rebekah," Elijah scolded, appalled at the action. He truly wished his siblings would have better, more peaceful, ways to get people to quiet down.

"Oh calm down," Rebekah had caught Maleny's temporary unconscious body in her arms and set her on the couch, "She's immortal, remember? Or can at least cheat death. Which ever way, it's pretty useful, don't you think?"

Elijah could roll only his eyes at his sister's nature but decided to focus on the impending issue before them. He walked to Maleny and carefully took out the pendant that hid underneath her blouse, both he and Rebekah studying it intently.

"It is," Rebekah breathed.

"But how?" Elijah questioned, letting the pendant fall back to its place.

"Don't question it, just be thankful," Rebekah knelt down beside Maleny's side and took the pendant in her fingers, "I remember it like it was yesterday. Abigail had given it to Maleny on her seventh birthday. After she died, Maleny never took it off. It's her, Elijah, it's really her."

"But her appearance..."

"Is not hers" Rebekah finished and looked up at him, "Someone put her in that body. There's something sinister going on here. We have to tell Klaus about this."

"And prove it how?" Elijah raised an eyebrow, making Rebekah halt in her desires, "This woman looks nothing like the Maleny we knew. Maleny was a witch in those days, and yet not immortal. This woman..."

"But we know it is," Rebekah stood up, "Just the way she's piqued our brother's interest in less than a night. She has that quality we haven't seen since..." she stopped in her thoughts when something entirely different came up, "...Maya," she whispered.

"Listen, we don't have time to figure out the whole puzzle at the moment," Elijah shook his head, "Just take her and Hayley away from here. And do try and not snap her neck again, please?"

"Yeah, fine" Rebekah rolled her eyes and took Maleny into her arms.

"And not a word to our brother," Elijah called in reminder.

"Don't understand why but alright," Rebekah glanced over her shoulder.

"Because I would not like to give hope and then snatch it away from him. She could very well be lying."

"I don't think she is," Rebekah smiled and looked down at Maleny before finally leaving.

~ 0 ~

By the time Maleny woke up, she found herself in the backseat of a car and heard the recognizable voices of Rebekah and Hayley. With a deep anger, Maleny sat up and flung the car door open before hopping on the ground with her hands on her hips, "Rebekah Mikaelson I'll kill you!" she declared.

"Wouldn't be the first to try," the blonde casually remarked.

"Nor the last," Hayley added.

"I said I didn't want to go!" Maleny marched towards Rebekah, "Why did you ignore me and..." she crinkled her face at the remnant of a small pain on her neck, "...snap my neck?" she put a hand on the side of her neck.

"It'll go away, don't worry," Rebekah waved her off.

"By all laws, you should be dead," Hayley studied Maleny with curiosity.

"Says the wolf who was impregnated by a vampire hybrid," Maleny shot back.

"Ouch, she wins that round," Rebekah smirked at Hayley.

"You are lucky I have a party to attend to," Hayley playfully wagged a finger to Maleny before turning and walking towards the plantation house.

"Party? What?" Maleny looked at Rebekah, "You know what, doesn't matter," she raised her hands and turned back to the car.

"I wouldn't if I were you, you're not going anywhere," Rebekah called, halting Maleny in her steps.

Maleny groaned, "You can't do this to me, you know," she turned around, "Klaus may have been able to compel me but I'm on vervain now. I can leave whenever I want to."

"You want to know about that necklace around your neck?" Rebekah crossed her arms, a hint of a smirk on her lips when Maleny stepped closer, "I know all about the owner, the true owner, of that necklace. Stick around and perhaps I'll talk about it," with that, Rebekah headed to the house.

Maleny looked around, unsure of what to do next. As far as she knew, the necklace belonged to her true self...only she didn't know who that was exactly. Perhaps...she could stick around for a minute or two to talk about it...

~ 0 ~

"The story begins back in the old days, very old days," Rebekah said as she and Maleny walked nearby the plantation house, leaving Hayley momentarily to talk while the wolf-woman saw to her party preparations, "There was this girl, her name was Maleny Rowan, and she was a witch. Her mother was close friends with my own, Esther. Maleny's mother was a powerful witch in our days and it seemed like her daughter would soon follow in the paths."

"I didn't know all that," Maleny whispered, looking at her hands with curiosity.

"She didn't either until she was around six or seven," Rebekah continued, "That's when she started noticing. So, her mother gave her a necklace..." her eyes drifted to the chain around Maleny's neck, "It was the color of gold with an oval pendant on it," Maleny lifted the pendant, "It had the symbols of Maleny's mother, Abigail's name, marked on it. It was a gift of encouragement to Maleny, she was nervous when it came to magic. Her mother thought it could be a symbol of their connection to each other as witches, mother and daughter. Though through that it turned into a much more sentimental value after Abigail passed away."

"Oh my..." Maleny looked at the pendant, sure enough seeing said symbols.

"Maleny was devastated. She had no idea what to do with her magic, all uncontrolled and no one to teach her. Her father was a pest and a menace to her. He hated her for God knows what reason," Rebekah rolled her eyes, "But my mother took Maleny in as her own and guided her throughout the years, teaching her how to be the witch that would continue her family's bloodline."

"That...sounds kind of nice," Maleny tried to hide her smile the best she could from Rebekah.

"Maleny was the most protected woman during our human and early vampire days," Rebekah grew serious all of a sudden, "...even from her father."

"What do you mean?" Maleny noticed the serious face Rebekah now wore, no more playful smirks nor expressions, "What happened?"

Rebekah looked down for a moment, "It was...bittersweet."

Maleny blinked, her gaze falling ahead as Rebekah spoke, for a moment seeing her words played into action...

Maleny Rowan ran through the woods in near sobs, her dress torn at parts and stained with blood. The sun was just casting down when she reached a small lake. She dropped to her knees and reached her hands inside the lake, lightly splashing water on her face. The red blood stained her fingers the more she urgently rubbed her face.

"Maleny! Maleny!" she heard Rebekah's calls.

Maleny gasped and tried even harder and faster to rid herself of the redness on her skin. But it was too late, Rebekah had found the girl in no time just by the scent.

"There you are, the village has already started the celebrations," Rebekah hurried up to Maleny and grabbed her by the arm, "For once, they're not making hard-eyes at us."

"I'm fine here," Maleny said in a trembling voice.

Rebekah noticed the shaky girl and the way Maleny avoided her look, "Maleny?" Rebekah tried looking at her but Maleny kept turning her head. Rebekah rolled her eyes and used her vampire-strength with ease to force the girl to stand and face her, "Oh my God," she breathed at the appearance of Maleny, "What on earth...?" she looked Maleny over with shock and yet it faded quick when she put the pieces together, "What was it for this time?"

Maleny's gaze slowly fell to the ground, "I, um...I accidentally burned his hand a little," she shut her eyes before tears developed again, "It's my fault, I should've made sure everything was cold enough before I gave him the food..."

"Wow, he must have beat you senseless for you to think it's your fault," Rebekah shook her head, "This is not going to stay like this, oh no," she declared and bit her wrist before holding it to Maleny, "Drink. I'm going to make sure this doesn't repeat itself."

"No!" Maleny opened her eyes and pushed Rebekah's wrist down, "I don't want anymore problems. Anything you do only makes him angrier. There's nothing to do but be better," Maleny nodded, barely managing not to quiver her lip like a child due to her struggle of withholding her sobs.

Rebekah immediately thought of a better idea, "You stay here, alright?"

"Where are you going?" Maleny asked in a whisper.

"You just be a good girl and stay here until someone comes and gets you," Rebekah put her hands on Maleny's shoulder and looked her in the eye, "Stay here," she instructed through compulsion, "I know how you like running off. Do not do that, understood?" Maleny nodded in obedience, "Alright, I'll be back," Rebekah promised and sped off.

Rebekah had stopped talking when she noticed Maleny seemed a bit distance, her gaze locked ahead of them, "Oi, are you listening?"

Maleny blinked, snapping out of her vision-trance, and looked at Rebekah, "I saw it," she whispered, her eyes watering as she replayed the vision in her mind, "I saw her...I saw..." she put a hand on her cheek, nearly swearing she could feel a sting where the other Maleny's bruise had been.

"You saw how awful she looked?" Rebekah asked, Maleny nodding, "Then you can only imagine what happened next."

"Did you...?"

Rebekah shook her head, "I could've done something, but I figured the best way to get revenge on Maleny's father was by calling in the one person who could really make the man suffer," she smirked, "I still don't regret it."

"What did you do?" Maleny dared to ask.

"The old Maleny wasn't an idiot so don't tell me you're one," Rebekah gave her a faint smile, "I called in my brother. I found Klaus and I told him everything. Up to that point, Maleny had always talked down the murderous instinct my brother developed after being turned. But then again, Maleny had never looked the way she did before that night," Rebekah swallowed, "Part of my decision to tell Klaus was because I feared for what could become of Maleny's life if someone didn't stop her father."

"So then..." Maleny blinked when she put the pieces together, all the meanwhile Rebekah beginning to smirk again.

"Oh yes," she nodded in confirmation.

"Oh my god," Maleny put a hand over her chest, her eyes wide, "He...he killed my father. That's awful!"

Rebekah scoffed, "Believe me, that man had it coming."

"No one can have that power," Maleny frowned at her, "No one ought to kill someone...what on Earth would make you or your brother do that?"

Rebekah gave a simple look and lightly sighed, "You're starting to see the visions, see what came after and then come and talk to me," she walked off back to the plantation.

Maleny could only think for a minute or two before deciding that nothing could ever be worth the senseless killing.

~ 0 ~

"Hey, nice of you to be join us again," Hayley greeted as soon as Maleny crossed through the front doors of the plantation house, the brunette just coming down the stairs, "I thought Rebekah may have eaten you or something."

"Oh ha ha," came Rebekah's voice from the kitchen, "I'll have you know I have taste!"

Maleny raised an eyebrow, "If she wasn't immortal, she'd be dead," she mumbled to Hayley who chuckled.

"No but seriously, I was beginning to worry," Hayley said as the two walked in further into the house, Maleny taking a look at everything she saw, "Rebekah said something about you having some visions alone, or..."

"They don't come on command," Maleny sighed absently.

"What are they exactly?" Hayley asked, a bit bashful for still being unable to grasp the issue of Maleny. She'd been explained by Maleny herself before leaving the house to take a walk with Rebekah. But it was brief and quick which didn't leave Hayley enough time to ask questions.

"I call them dreams and visions but in reality they're more like memories," Maleny explained as she walked around the living room, taking in every last detail of the room, "It's the memories of the previous lives I've lived in another body.""

"Yeah, but are they Klaus' or the respective woman?"

"I would not know how to answer that," Maleny faintly smiled and shrugged, "I mostly see it from a third point of view."

"And how do you feel about that?" Hayley raised an eyebrow, Maleny glancing with a confused expression, "Clearly, I know the identity thing to the core, I don't know who exactly I am, but...I'm talking about those visions/dreams things...you get to see all that. How does that make you feel?"

"Um..." Maleny shrugged again, "...I mean, I have this journal where I write them all down. It's sort of my way of releasing all my thoughts that I can't share with anyone. But I guess if I had to describe it, I'd say I feel I'm invading someone's privacy," she swallowed hard.

"Okay," Hayley raised her eyebrows, "That's not exactly what I thought I'd get as a response."

"If she's anything like someone I knew then you can definitely expect those types of answers from her," Rebekah strode into the room, hands on hips, "So," she looked at Maleny with an expectant look, "Have you seen the vision?"

"I told you, I can't see them on command," Maleny sighed and turned away.

"Don't bother her," Hayley whispered to Rebekah, "She has enough to deal with."

"Actually, there is one thing I've been trying to answer," Maleny suddenly spoke again, her back to the two women, "Rebekah, you said Maleny Rowan was a powerful witch, well...what if this body was of a witch too? Could I conduct magic? Or is my magic transferred?"

Rebekah tilted her head as she considered the idea, "I don't know, perhaps."

"Because I was thinking about what Davina wrote in her sketches of me. The magic that I own isn't really mine..." Maleny tried to explain the in the easiest way she could, "Maybe the magic I have now belongs to the owner of this body. Or maybe it's my original magic but-"

"Stop before you confuse yourself even more," Hayley chuckled.

Maleny sighed, "I really need to talk to Davina."

"You and me both," Rebekah mumbled and returned towards the kitchen.

~ 0 ~

As Hayley's werewolf party was ongoing, Maleny struggled to get a decent phone call out to Cami or even Kieran. She walked just a bit off to the side of the house, covering one ear so she could hear what the crazy phone-line was saying. She was having a real hard time focusing on anything ever since she and Rebekah had spoken earlier in the day. Her hand constantly found itself on the necklace she wore, as if it was holding onto the last real piece of her true identity. She felt so uncomfortable, so...troubled. On the one hand, she was a bit joyful to finally have some answers on her visions, but on the other she felt like she had lost (or was beginning to lose) what she had at the moment. Yes, the O'Connell's weren't her real family and none of the memories implanted in her head nor the human's were real, but she felt the love from them. She knew Cami loved her as an actual cousin, Kieran the same as a niece. She knew their love didn't come from implanted memories, but their core of beings. What they felt was real and what she felt was just as real.

To go back to being Maleny Rowan meant to have no family. She never considered that idea. She survived all the way to the present, but her family hadn't. Her mother died and her father was a pest who'd also died in the end. She had no siblings and as far as cousins or aunts and uncles, she wasn't really sure she had any. She'd be alone.

Apart from that, she learned she'd accepted that Klaus killed her father. What kind of person was she, then? To be completely okay with her father's murder. Why would she like to accept to being alone?

"You shouldn't be out here on your own," a voice said from behind.

Maleny had only time to make half of a turn before something hard and cold slammed on her face, making her fall to the ground unconscious.

~ 0 ~

In the plantation house, Hayley and her newest friend (and apparently betrothed) Jackson, found themselves in quite a predicament with all the possible exits of the house had been mysteriously shut and locked.

Hayley, who currently had her cellphone out with Elijah on the other line, hurriedly walked into the piano room with Jackson behind her, "We have to get out of here," she said urgently.

Jackson grabbed the piano stool and tried smashing it on the window, only to find the glass very much intact while the stool broke into pieces. Flames of fires grew around the exterior of the house and soon inside, burning down the curtain and part of the carpet. Quickly, Jackson snatched a tablecloth and poured the water of a vase onto it before pressing it to Hayley's mouth, "Here, breath through this," he instructed.

Hayley could only nod as she coughed, wondering where the hell Rebekah and Maleny was at the moment. Suddenly, Elijah crashed through the windows and quickly took Hayley into his arms before speeding out of the house. He set her on the ground while she continued to cough, "Where's Rebekah?" he urgently asked as he looked around, "And Maleny?"

"I don't know," Hayley shook her head, "Rebekah went off with one of them. Maleny was alone, but...I don't know. Elijah, my friend is still in there."

Elijah sighed and returned for the man inside the house, really rather be searching for his missing siblings instead, plus the apparently missing not-so-human.

~ 0 ~

Later on would find Elijah at the site where his sister had been apparently attacked by several wolves, only the corpses of the animals and Rebekah's jacket left as proof of the catastrophe.

"Missing something?" he heard Sabine behind him, in reality Celeste of course. Elijah turned to find her accompanied with Bastianna and Genevieve - more resurrected witches - all looking a tad pleasant at the events much to his irritation, "You won't hurt me," Celeste laughed, "I'm the only one alive who can break the curse on Hayley's family. And Genevieve knows where your sister is. Bastianna has Klaus, tucked away someplace safe. He's suffering horribly, I might add. And all because you chose to save the little wolf instead of your own blood."

"Where is Maleny?" he demanded, the only one not accounted for in Celeste's explanation.

"Collateral damage," Celeste casually shrugged, "She'll wake up soon, with a nasty bruise on her head. But you know, I died because of Klaus so by all logic she should die this time around just for kicks."

"Leave her, leave my family alone," Elijah warned before deciding to lunge for the woman.

Celeste raised her hand and forced him down to his knees with a shrill scream of pain, "Maleny is someone else's problem, she'll die soon enough. This right now, though, this is between your family. I guess "always" isn't forever, after all," she laughed as he went down unconscious again.

~ 0 ~

After Hayley had bid goodbye to Jackson for the full moon was about to end, she heard the low grunts of another person nearby and quickly became alarmed, "Elijah? Is that you?" she called, stepping back.

Instead of the man in suit, she found Maleny stumbling forwards with a hand on her head, stained with red from what Hayley assumed was blood.

"Oh!" Hayley rushed to the woman's side, lowering her hand to find the rather large cut on Maleny's head, "What happened to you?"

"Funny, I could ask the same about you and..." Maleny looked at the burnt down plantation house.

"You're a bit cheeky, do you know that?"

Maleny shrugged, "Ow..." she winced when Hayley accidentally touched the cut.

"Sorry," Hayley quickly backed away, though returned as soon as Maleny stumbled again, "So what's the deal? I thought you were immortal or something?"

"You said it, unable to die, not immune to injuries," Maleny gritted her teeth at another sharp pain in her head, "Someone is going to pay for this, I swear."

"I was thinking more of death," Elijah emerged from the woods rather displeased he'd been knocked out again.

"What is going on here?" Maleny asked with a tired sigh.

"Someone is going to die and I'm going to get both my siblings back."

"They're gone?" Maleny asked, glancing at Hayley who was equally confused.

"Not for long, that I can promise," Elijah muttered and headed off with the two women behind.

~ 0 ~

"I see it's all better now," Hayley was checking over Maleny's head injury, both now in the compound once more.

"Yeah, vampire blood always seems to do the trick," Maleny sighed, "Though I really wish Elijah and I stopped meeting like that. This is how rumors start."

Hayley chuckled, Maleny never seemed to take her issues with bitterness like most people would, "You can go see Cami any moment you want now," Hayley informed.

"I'd rather not see her right now," Maleny shook her head, smiling at the face Hayley was making, "Yeah, I know. The woman complains about being hauled away from her family and now that she's free to go she doesn't actually go."

"Pretty much," Hayley nodded.

"I don't want to worry her. She's going to ask where I was and I don't really want to tell her I was with Rebekah because then that would lead me to tell her she, along with Klaus, have disappeared. I just need some time to think of something to tell her, then I'll go."

"You really care about her don't you?"

"Adopted or not, real or not, Cami and Kieran are the only family I have in this world right now. I don't want to lose them, nor let anything happen to them."

"Come and be on lock down with me again, then," Hayley teased with a smile.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this too," Maleny chuckled, getting Hayley to laugh as well until a shout from Elijah cut them both off.

Immediately, Maleny stood from the couch and rushed after Hayley, the woman apparently much faster than one would think in her current state.

"Elijah! You're back," Hayley exclaimed.

"Did you find any..." Maleny stopped when both saw Elijah without a shirt and covered in tattooed names, "I thought you were going to find Sophie Deveraux...not get tattoos," she frowned.

"She's dead," Elijah declared rather calmly as he studied the names he could see on his arms.

"She's dead?" Maleny repeated in confusion, "How?"

"Let's not waste time, Maleny. I need you both to make a list of these names."

Maleny nudged Hayley beside her, snapping the woman out of her stupor and sending her a smirk, "Hayley, would you go and examine that? I'll get a pen and paper."

"You bitch," Hayley murmured in a mock scolding before heading over to Elijah.

Maleny meant to walk out of the room when she bumped into Marcel who carried the pen and paper, "Never mind," she sighed and turned back.

"Sabine? Elijah, what is this?" Hayley was looking at the name sprawled on Elijah's wrist.

"I believe they represent the names of the women Celeste inhabited for the past two centuries," he responded.

"That's called a Devinette. It's like a kind of riddle. Witches use them to teach their kids. Solve it, and it disappears," Maleny blurted absently, garnering the stares of everyone.

"How did you know that?" Hayley raised an eyebrow.

Maleny opened her mouth but found she didn't have the answer, "I...don't know. Guess it's something that I just remembered," she said, slightly excited.

"You, I've been meaning to talk to you," Marcel pointed at her.

"Another time, Marcel," Elijah called, "Time is of the essence at this point."

"I'm with him on this one," Maleny took the pen and paper, "We have a riddle to solve and I like riddles."

"But what's the point of all this?" Hayley sighed, heavily confused.

"Celeste forced me to make a choice between yourself and my siblings, and now she means to mock that choice, taunting me with a childish game," Elijah frowned, "The longer the game, the more they suffer. To find Klaus and Rebekah, we need to solve this riddle. The solution lies somewhere in these names."

Marcel noticed a name on Elijah's arm and blinked, "The name next to Sabine... Annie La Fleur, she's the witch that was shunned from her coven just over a year ago. Never knew why, but I can find out."

"Then go do it," Maleny shooed him off.

Marcel gave her a short, hard look before walking off to do the task.

"Well he doesn't like you very much," Hayley took the pen and paper and started scribbling down the names.

"He's suspicious about me. I would be too if I was him," Maleny crossed her arms, her hand one again reaching to the pendant of her necklace, "I'm a big question mark and I could turn out to be dangerous."

"You weren't," Elijah could almost scoff as he recalled the Maleny he knew back in the day, "You couldn't hurt a fly...and you tried miserably."

"You and Rebekah keep giving me these points about a woman you knew and yet none of you will tell me what happened to her. Neither of you tell me in detail who she was - who I am. Rebekah gave me this story and I hate it, it was the wrong story to tell. Did you know that Klaus killed my father?"

"There's a shocker," Hayley mumbled, still busy writing.

"That man was cruel," Elijah began but Maleny's sigh cut him off.

"You're going to defend the action?" she raised an eyebrow, "Out of all people I would think you'd be so far on the other line of this."

"I don't condone it but after seeing how much that man hurt his daughter, I think there was no other choice."

"But that wasn't yours, Rebekah's, nor Klaus's choice! Rebekah said that that Maleny had no one else but her father. How could making her an orphan be right?"

"Because she wouldn't be alone after that," Elijah answered calmly despite the half-shouting woman in front him.

"Who could take the place of family? Could anyone take the place of yours?" Maleny countered, knowing damn well that to Elijah family was literally everything, "You talk about family and yet you're alright with letting your brother take away someone else's?"

"Until you recover all those memories I don't believe you should be angry. You've yet to see it all."

"Then tell me," Maleny pleaded, "This is an endless game with you Mikaelson's. Tell me all about it."

"Time, Maleny, remember? We cannot waste even a second of it," Elijah reminded as Hayley finished jotting down the names, "Besides, I think it should be Klaus who tells you about you," he smiled, "Out of everyone he knew you the best."

Maleny sighed and conceded, she could tell that from the visions she'd seen. If anyone knew Maleny Rowan it was Klaus. And he was missing. Once again, she had to wait.

"Now you two look at that list and the women, while Marcel and I go after that Anne LeFleur," Elijah instructed as he picked up his shirt to put it back on.

As he left, Hayley gave Maleny a comforting smile, "I get it, I get it all."

"But you've already found your pack," Maleny sighed, "You know you're not alone. You have them and you have your baby, but me? I've got nothing."

Hayley sadly watched the girl sit down, real family or not Maleny really was alone in the world. She didn't have anything, not even her true identity.

~ 0 ~

"It's not answering," Maleny sighed as she handed Hayley back her cellphone, Maleny's having broken back at the plantation.

Maleny decided to call Cami and tell her that she was alright and simply looking into universities, but found that the only response she was getting was her voice mail. It worried Maleny and made it harder to stay away for the moment. Even Kieran wasn't answering and he always did. Something had to be going on.

Suddenly, Hayley's phone rang and Maleny immediately looked over Hayley's shoulder to see the ID.

"Sorry," Hayley half-smiled, "Elijah," she took the call.

Maleny shook her head and took the laptop Hayley held to continue their study on the women Celeste had inhabited. Maleny couldn't help but feel like this situation paralleled her own. According to Elijah, Celeste used a body jump spell to take over different women bodies. Maleny wondered if the spell Celeste used to jump bodies was the same spell Maleny was currently under. But in the end, Celeste planned it on her own. Maleny did not - at least she didn't remember planning it.

"She killed herself?" Hayley's voice brought Maleny out of her thoughts.

"A suicidal witch," Maleny noted, "Wonder if that's the recurring theme for Celeste."

Hayley put the call on speaker for Maleny to listen, "Yes, drowned herself in the Mississippi, to be precise. Celeste was clearly tired of the body and ready to take Sabine's," Elijah was saying.

"How do you know that?" Hayley asked.

"Because she leaped to her death from the very location Celeste and I had our first kiss."

"Oh that's poetic," Maleny rolled her eyes, "You know, a deranged-vendetta sort of way."

"All these names, these lives, stolen that Celeste might take her revenge. I suppose we have no choice but to see where they take us. I have to go. I'll call you back."

"Elijah, wait!" Hayley cut in before the call died.

"What is it?"

"Ask Marcel if he knows anything about a name on that list- Brynne Deveraux. Sophie said that it was her family's bloodline that put the curse on the Crescent wolves, but Celeste said that she was the only one that could break it. If Brynne Deveraux was actually Celeste when she cast the spell, then maybe Celeste can still break it."

"I'll see what he knows."

"Elijah, I'm really sorry that you're going through this. If I had known that Celeste made you choose who to help–"

"You were going to die in that fire Hayley along with my brother's child. There was no choice."

Before Hayley could remark, the call died. Maleny teased her right after, "Isn't that lovely?"

"Shut up," Hayley elbowed her and took the laptop back, Maleny laughing much to the woman's dismay.

~ 0 ~

Hours later would find Elijah and Marcel returning, Elijah just slightly ahead to be able to inform Hayley of the familiar Deveraux witch before Marcel could hear.

Marcel caught up quick and simply got to business, "Find anything about Clara, the mystery witch?"

Maleny had the laptop on her lap as she'd taken over much of the research, letting Hayley take a needed break. She looked up and shook her head, "There isn't much of her. She was just a nurse at the Fleur-de-Lis Sanitarium," she looked down just as Marcel froze in panic, "Anyone recognize her?" she gestured for them all to look at the screen as she clicked on a closer up of the mysterious witch.

"No, I don't," Elijah responded first, and then he noticed Marcel, "Marcel?" the man seemed far more alarmed now, "Marcel? Do I need to remind you that Niklaus and Rebekah are somewhere suffering horribly? If you know something, talk."

"The Sanitarium. That's where you'll find them," Marcel breathed.

"Are you sure?" Hayley asked, "How do you know?"

"I just know."

"Yes, but how?" Maleny raised an eyebrow.

Marcel looked away for a moment, driving Elijah's patience to far more dangers thin line, "Marcel?"

"If I'm right, you need to know exactly what we're walking into. We did something, Rebekah and I... I think the witches are trying to use it against her. It was, uh... something that you're not gonna like..."

Hayley and Maleny exchanged concerned glances, things were already at their pique...what more could there be?

But then Marcel spoke and explained how he and Rebekah had tricked a poor witch named Genevieve in 1919 into bringing Mikael to New Orleans, the tricked witch apparently being one of the resurrected witches in possession of Klaus and Rebekah.

To say Elijah was furious would be a severe understatement, "For the better part of a century, I have wondered how Father found us, what foolish mistake that we had made to destroy our time in the one place that we could finally call home. Did you know, I even blamed myself for a time, Marcellus?"

"Elijah," Hayley cautiously called but was blatantly ignored.

"Niklaus treated you like a son," he stepped forwards.

"Rebekah," was all Marcel had to say as if it was the excuse for any action he'd do, which in reality was, "I loved her. I still love her. All we ever wanted was to be together, but as long as Klaus was around, that was never gonna happen. But hey, I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, huh?"

"When Klaus learns the truth, there will be no end to his rage. I will not let my sister suffer that wrath."

"Then we need to get to them before he learns the truth," Marcel said, unaware that the inevitable had already happened.

"Hayley, Maleny, you two stay here," Elijah turned and pointed at them.

"Actually, I wanted to-" Maleny had tried to say but Hayley covered her mouth and put on a sweet smile.

"We'll stay," she said.

"I mean it," Elijah warned.

"So do I."

Maleny pushed Hayley's hand down and gave the brunette a hard look, misunderstanding why Hayley was accepting their roles as weak humans...ish, so easily. But Hayley looked back with a nearly pleading look which made Maleny huff and nod, "Fine, we'll stay."

"Thank you," Elijah nodded and looked back at Marcel, coldly speaking to the man, "Let's go and for your own safety you should pray that both my siblings are still alive when we find them," he hurried out of the room.

"Yes, sir," Marcel mumbled and followed.

As soon as the two men were off, Hayley stood up and looked around, "Alright, so this is where we part for the moment."

"What are you up to?" Maleny asked, remaining sat.

"I'm hunting me down a certain witch," she informed as she headed for the doorway and looked back, "I know you wanted to go somewhere else too. So, this works for both of us."

"Truthfully, yes, I have to go see Cami now. It's late and it's been about two days since she's heard anything from me. Plus..." Maleny paused for a moment, "...neither she nor Kieran have responded to my voicemails now. I'm worried."

"Then off we go," Hayley nodded.

Maleny stood up and sighed, "I won't be coming back though. There's something I need to do."

"Oh?"

Maleny took a breath, "The woman with Klaus during that time, Maya Sterling...she died there and I don't know why or how. I need to find out."

"Are you sure you want to keep doing that?" Hayley frowned, "Honestly, it seems to me like the deeper you get into that stuff the worse it is for you."

"It's my only chance of breaking this...curse," Maleny couldn't think of anything else to describe her situation, "This spell, whatever it is, it's got me seeing these different women for some reason and I want to know how to stop it. I am Maleny Rowan and this is not my body. I want to know how long has it been since I've been jumping bodies."

Hayley took a sigh for the woman and shook her head, "That probably won't end well," she murmured before leaving as well. But then again, what, in New Orleans, ever turned out to be good?

[teddy-bea]

inscribed on back of photo, mom’s cursive: Dale’s back from camp!!  Teddy INSISTED on coming with us to the airport.  She burst into tears when she saw her.  She’s got the softest soul I’ve ever known.

i persist and resist the temptation

twins have a way of knowing things.

but this wasn’t about twins.  this wasn’t about honey calling teddy, throwing her abruptly out of her sleep at three in the morning, arm fumbling around her nightstand for her phone and lifting herself up from under the nest of auggie’s arm to the accusatory, panicked voice of her twin, her honey, asking her, “are you pregnant?”

(to which she’d assured her she absolutely was not, she’d just been feeling sick since they’d gotten back from paris, and she had a doctor’s visit planned for the morning — but if anything, they were just hoping it wasn’t anything severe, anything like what their father was currently quarantined with.)

(fast-forward seven hours later, and her doctor is telling her that she — and her BABIES — are perfectly healthy.  how’s that for twin telepathy?)

but this, again, is not that story.

this is about daily.

her name wasn’t actually daily — until she was sixteen, at least, when their parents let her legally change it from “remy” — but it’s what they’d all called her since she was born.  apparently, it was because she’d cried when she was a baby.  “daily,” her dad would always bemoan to her., and he’d always do it with a smile on his face because her dad did everything with a smile on his face.  “she cries daily.  daily, daily, daily.”  and it had just stuck.  she’d been daily ever since.

it suited her, really, because daily was a cool name.  and daily remy graham was the coolest person teddy had ever known.  and heck, remy had been a cool name too.  daily’s destiny had preceded her.

she was loud, but she was gentle, she was outspoken, but she was kind.  she wanted to be a rockstar when she grew up, and she settled for being teddy’s lead guitarist since she was fifteen years old and always told her that it was never “settling” in her eyes.

honey was her twin, olive was her best friend, auggie was her soulmate, her siblings were her life, but daily was her person.  

she was the one who stood up for her — even if she was only eighteen to teddy’s naive sixteen — when her first record label tried to shortchange her in a lousy deal.  she looked over every contract, combed through every deal, made sure teddy was never settling for less than she was worth.  she cracked jokes with the band, the opening acts, was everyone’s best friend on tour, in the studio, online.  you couldn’t not be magnetized by her.  it had been the same way at school — she’d just been that good.

so, when teddy had been home for christmas, just before everything in their world had been rocked to its absolute core, teddy might have seen something that wasn’t supposed to be.  a poem — not that that was rare, by any means, since daily always carried notebooks and a tablet with her, but this one seemed deeply personal.  this one, teddy could tell, was about alex.

alex, who’d been daily’s high school boyfriend, who had turned into her college boyfriend.  everyone joked that she and alex were going to be the next ollie and josie, the next big fat “lifetime of togetherness” to come out of the graham family.

until daily broke up with him out of nowhere before college graduation.  he was going to propose, had asked her parents’ for her hand and everything.  teddy and bixby had planned a whole, ridiculous engagement party, were already in the process of writing a song rhyming every possible word with “daily” that they could.

there was no doubt in their mind, in any of their minds, that she and alex were going to get married.  they’d all set up a surprise party at the graham party when they knew that alex was planning the proposal, everyone hiding behind various furniture as if their entire family weren’t a towering forest of trees, and when daily came in — alone — shoving her keys into her bag, she’d looked at them in horror as they all came flying out from behind the couch with poppers and confetti, screaming out, “CONGRATULATIONS!”

“where is he?” bixby had asked with a furrowed brow.

daily frowned.  “who?”

belly snorted from their twin brother’s side.  “what do you mean who?  alex, dumbass.  mr. daily graham.”

“oh,” daily said, her face shifting ever so slightly.  “we broke up.”  

she said it like their dad used to announce rained out days in the park.

both her mom and teddy were moving for her at once, but daily backed up.  “i’m fine.   i thought i was surprising you guys by stopping by for dinner tonight,” she shot a pointed look at honey and teddy, “but apparently you guys already knew.”

“hey,” honey said softly, softer than usual.  “you good?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” daily breezed.  “it’s not like he was gonna propose to me.”  she saw the looks across all their faces and grimaced.  “all right, too soon.”  she shot them a peace sign — which, if you’ve ever met daily, you would know is her international symbol for ‘not okay, but don’t ask — and headed upstairs for her old room.

teddy gave it a solid three minutes before she was heading up after her.  honey was at her heels.

they weren’t the type of family who knocked — never had been — so teddy just stepped in and held the door open long enough for honey to follow her before lightly tapping it shut with her foot.  she didn’t see how everything could have gone so horribly south so fast.  alex had texted her ring ideas while she had been across from daily in tour rehearsals.  she was juggling classes and graduation prep and her relationship with alex and tour prep… had it been too much?

“day, what happened?”

“you guys,” daily groaned.  “there’s.  it’s.”  she looked up from where she was doodling line art into a notebook.  “it wasn’t going to work, okay?  i have so much shit going on with graduation and getting ready to leave across the country and—”

“—if this is about me—”

“—it’s not about you,” daily’s voice nearly broke.  “it’s about me.”

something in honey’s stance moved, her jaw clenched and unclenched, her eyes softened.  “oh.”

teddy looked from honey to daily before she was looking around daily’s bedroom, seeing the pictures along her dresser and bookcase that had changed in and out from over the years — there was still the picture of her holding belly when they were born, and the picture of her and honey and teddy and ollie all throwing their arms around crosby before he left for his volunteer trip to argentina.  there was one of her and their parents and a photobombing bixby at her high school graduation.  

daily had photos everywhere.  she documented everything, carefully and methodically.  her bedroom was a time capsule. her and teddy when teddy got her first record deal.  her and teddy on stage at the first talent show they performed at together.  her and her best friend naomi when they were six years old, laying out in the backyard with their hair hanging over the edge of the graham family pool.  naomi at sixteen in her cheerleading uniform, face scrunched into a scream of a laugh, and daily with her arms wrapped tightly around her, muddy in her soccer uniform.  her and naomi in a photobooth when they were twenty, studying abroad for a semester in florence — four photos of them getting closer, and closer, and closer still.  there were two pictures of her and alex, with his movie star good looks and his eyes glued to daily.  hers were off camera, always searching somewhere beyond her.

and it hit her.  like a ton of bricks.

“oh, daily,” she murmured, sitting down beside her.

“we don’t need to have a seventh heaven moment right now,” she said with a laugh, but she was wiping tears away with the back of her hand.  “like i said, i’m fine.  it sucked, and telling him sucked, and the whole thing fucking sucked, but it’s fine.  i’m fine.  he’ll be fine.  it’ll be fine.”

fine, fine, fine.

      in my defense, i have none --

the tape fast-forwards to that very same bedroom, but it’s years later.  there is no paris, not yet, but teddy is back in that house in los angeles, the one she has called her own since she was born.   the one she and her six siblings have always come back to, would always come back to.  she is back in this room, and she is looking for scotch tape to finish wrapping the last of her presents before tomorrow morning rolls around and everybody gets their gifts in shopping bags.

the journal is under her bed, untouched and forgotten about, but it’s there and it’s teasing her.  she just takes a peek, just a little one.  that’s all.  

it turns out, a peek is all she needs.

    -- for never leaving well enough alone

the tape is spinning once more, and it is early may.  teddy is waiting for her sister to pick up on facetime, sitting in front of her keyboard with her leg jiggling nervously.

“down in front,” auggie teases, cereal bowl in hand.  he kisses the top of her head once, and then once more, as the screen shifts and daily comes into view.  he gives her a nod of a greeting and ruffles his hand through teddy’s hear before he’s slinking down into the den to start his stream.

“what was so urgent, o’ talented one?” daily hums, sitting up with her bedhead.  there is a soft grunt from beside her, a muffled, “hey ted,” from a still-dead-to-the-world naomi.  daily is off camera for a second but teddy can hear the soft, unmistakable sound of a kiss from anywhere, before she is standing up from the bed and moving through her apartment, the early morning light of los angeles streaming in.

“gotta remember time changes one of these days.”

“yeah,” daily snorts.  “we both know that’ll never happen.”  she grabs a coffee mug off the counter, moving around her kitchen and looking back at the phone.  “what’s up?”

once she’s sitting down, teddy looks back down at the piano, and then back at her sister.  “first off, remember you love me.”

“nothing good ever starts with that.”

“i just.  i saw…something, at christmas.  and i kind of decided to run with it.”

daily’s eyebrow quirked up.  “what kind of something?”

“a poem kind of something?”

and then daily’s face went pale.

“just.  look.  you’ll never sing it — even if you should — so.  i thought i’d take a stab at it.  if you hate it, it never sees the light of day.  okay?”

daily sits back, taking a sip of her coffee.  “all right, maestro.”

i’m doing good, i’m on some new shit; been saying yes instead of no.  i thought i saw you at the bus stop, i didn’t, though

we were something, don’t you think so?

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

The First Date

* * * The Art of Loving Thomas Hunt Fan Fiction Masterlist * * *

———

Characters: Alex (MC), Thomas Hunt

Setting: Alex and Thomas have recently decided to start a relationship but they are keeping it private for now. This story takes place after The Last Duchess party, but before the film’s release, so it takes place during the last chapter of Red Carpet Diaries Book 2.

*Note, the bar in this fic actually exists. If you live in the LA area, you should definitely check it out. I’ve never been there, but it looks amazing! -->Inspiration: Photo Post of Bar

Rating: PG

———

Alex just finished up a radio interview for a local news station. Interest in The Last Duchess had been growing ever since its release was publicly announced. Chazz could barely field all the requests that came in for Alex to promote The Last Duchess. The secret production led to a lot of last-minute press. Despite a few wonderful moments together the day after the party, Alex and Thomas had not found time for the proper date. 

Once Alex was in her car heading home for the day, she took out her phone. Alex couldn’t help but smile as she pulled up the number she was looking for.

“Hello,” Thomas answered.

“Hi,” Alex replied. “I was hoping you might be free, tonight.”

“For you, I can make myself available,” Thomas responded.

“That is exactly what I was hoping to hear, Mr. Hunt,” Alex teased. “I was thinking we could try that dinner thing?”

“I could not think of a better way to spend an evening,” Thomas explained.

“Pick me up at 8?” Alex asked.

“I take it you have a place in mind?” Thomas questioned.

“I do,” Alex started. 

“Care to share?” Thomas wondered. 

“Nope,” Alex smiled to herself. “I think you will find it to your liking.”

“As long as you are there, I know I will,” Thomas agreed.

“Look who is already getting better at the romance thing,” Alex teased. “8 o'clock! Don’t be late.”

“As if I would ever be late,” Thomas stated. “I will be there at 8:00 and will attempt to wait patiently for you, as you so far seem incapable of being on time.”

“Being late would just prolong the time until I see you,” Alex admitted. “I’ll be on time, just be there.”

***

“8:04!” Thomas quipped as Alex got in the car. “I’m impressed.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Alex demanded. 

Thomas wasted no time fulfilling Alex’s request. His lips were on hers, her mouth was warm and inviting. He let himself relax under her touch. After a few moments, Thomas pulled away. “I expect that satisfied your direction.”

“For now,” Alex smiled.

“Where to?” Thomas asked.

“Old Man Bar,” Alex smirked. “It’s in Culver City.” 

Thomas looked at Alex. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“It’s not as out of the way as you would like, but it seemed fitting. And no, not because of the name!” Alex continued with a smile as she ran her fingers through his hair. Thomas’s face didn’t change. “It doesn’t seem like a place we would run into anyone who might see us, so we should have some privacy. Oh, and they have about two dozen types of Scotch on the menu.” Thomas smiled. “I thought that might be of interest to you.”

Thomas leaned over and kissed Alex softly. “You should have led with the scotch.”

***

Thomas and Alex enter the Old Man Bar. They both take a moment to look over the scene. The rustic bar was small and dimly lit. Beautiful stained glass windows adorned the outer walls. A fireplace warmed the other end of the room. Wood and leather surrounded them. Thomas's eyes landed on the bar stocked with row upon row of varied liquors. Luckily they had chosen a slow night. Only one other couple sat in a booth near the entrance. Thomas and Alex made their way wordlessly to a booth in the back. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” Alex asked.

“I don’t understand that sentiment. Are you giving me a penny? Are my thoughts only worth a penny?” Thomas complained.

“Don’t overthink it,” Alex played. “What are your thoughts about this place?” 

“It is a little less authentic than my typical haunts,” Thomas started. “However, I appreciate the attention to detail in setting the mood. It is quite tasteful.”

Alex smiled, “I’m sure the purveyors of this establishment will be pleased to know that the Great Thomas Hunt approves.” 

 “How did I do for our first proper date?” Alex questioned as she looked at him across the booth. His face was unreadable.

“As ever, you continue to astonish me,” Thomas answered with a slight smile in the corner of his lips. 

“Good!” Alex smiled. 

Alex and Thomas looked over the menus. Thomas, of course, went straight for the list of scotch. After they ordered, they turned their attention back to one another. 

“So,” Alex began. “What is your favorite childhood memory?”

“What?” Thomas asked as he nosed his scotch savoring the pleasing aroma. 

“Come on,” Alex pressed, lightly. “This is technically our first date, but it’s not like we don’t already know each other. You’ve never mentioned your childhood. I’m curious. What was young Thomas Hunt like?”

Thomas took a sip of his scotch, rolling it around in his mouth as he savored the taste. He narrowed his eyes on her.

“Fine, I’ll go first,” Alex decided. “When I was 4, my parents took me to the Iowa State Fair. It was the best day ever! We ate so much food, petted all sorts of animals, played games, went on rides, and of course, saw the famous butter cow. 600 pounds of butter! Like why is that a thing? I don’t know but it was AMAZING!”

“I am imaging 4-year-old you with pigtails and denim overalls,” Thomas smirked.

“It’s possible,” Alex grinned. “There may have also been a flower crown too.”

“Of course there was,” Thomas interjected. “Cowgirl boots too?”

 “Maybe…” Alex admitted. “It was the first time I stood on a stage. There was a band playing. I had never heard them before, but I just walked up on the stage, not even thinking about what I was doing and asked if they could play me a song.”

“And what song did you request?” Thomas questioned.

“Only the greatest song ever, Baby Beluga,” Alex laughed.

Thomas choked momentarily on his scotch from laughing. 

“I was 4,” Alex protested. “And it was Iowa!”

“That might be the best story I've ever heard,” Thomas teased.

“Don’t make fun or I won’t show you the picture the Des Moines Register took and published in the paper. It was on page 2! All of my friends were very jealous!” Alex said proudly. 

“How could they not be,” Thomas laughed. Alex smiled slyly at him. “What?”

“You should laugh more. It looks good on you,” Alex replied. 

“I will keep that in mind.” Thomas’s face returned to his stoic composure. “I suppose now I owe you a story.”

“It would only be fair,” Alex answered.

“As you wish,” Thomas complied, taking a deep breath. “This might not count as the best childhood memory, however, it is one that I hold dear. I have always been drawn to film and the dramatic arts. When I was 5, we were cleaning out my parent's garage and I found a box of cassette tapes. One of them was a recording of Orson Welles’ War of the Worlds from 1938. I didn’t know what it was, but I saw Orson and since that was my middle name, I thought it must be good. I played the tape and was instantly transported into another time and place. I felt excitement and fear, but also wonder. I was completely captivated. I listened to that tape hundreds of times over the years. It was my earliest inspiration. I have spent my life trying to capture that level of storytelling purity in my own work. It didn’t need over the top Hollywood noise and clutter. It didn't even need pictures. It stood on its own, simply because of the story and the talent and passion from those who brought it to life. It is my life’s greatest goal. I haven’t gotten it quite yet, but I will.”

Alex stared across the table at him at a loss for words. 

“Sorry if that wasn’t as exciting as the Iowa Fair. I’m sure you can imagine, that even as a child, I was...different,” Thomas said, drinking his scotch, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Thomas” Alex stammered. "You don’t know how incredible you are. I have no doubt that one day, a great filmmaker will tell his or her story, and when they do, they will share how it was you and one of your projects that inspired them to strive for greatness. Your work is a significant part of this city’s story.”

They sat wordlessly staring across the table at each other until their food had arrived. Their conversation shifted to upcoming events and the World Wide Premiere of The Last Duchess.

After savoring a delicious meal, Alex joined Thomas on his side of the booth to enjoy being a little closer to him. 

“Is this okay?” She asked, hesitantly as she scooted next to him, letting her fingers graze his hand.

“You may be surprised to know that I am not overly fond of public displays of affection,” Thomas started, as Alex began moving away. “However, you somehow make it more bearable.” He let his fingers find their spot between hers as they held hands under the table. 

“I’m glad you can withstand this torture,” Alex played, before continued. “But seriously, please let me know if you ever feel uncomfortable. I want us to be a team that supports one another, no matter what.”

“I want that too. Honestly, after you called me earlier, I was apprehensive about what tonight might bring. I tormented over how difficult moving forward might be. As I have told you, this is not my strong suit. I have little trouble writing and directing stories filled with deep connections and relationships, but I have never been notably comfortable with it in my personal life. Nevertheless, you find ways to make me feel contented.”

“I don’t expect big romantic gestures. I don’t need that. The only thing I need is you, just the way you are.” Alex kissed Thomas’s cheek. 

“I am desperately afraid of dissatisfying you,” Thomas admitted.

“You could never disappoint me,” Alex reassured him. “We will figure us out, together.”

“I wish you knew the joy you bring to me.” Thomas kissed her forehead. He closed his eyes momentarily to commit the moment to memory. The way she looked, the way she smelled, and the pure happiness he felt.

“The feeling is mutual,” Alex replied, touching her hand to caress his face. Letting her thumb graze the side of his mouth where she knew a smile was hiding. Alex shifted closer to Thomas in the booth as he put her arm around her. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder, letting him rest his head on hers. 

“How do you feel about dessert,” Alex questioned. “Maybe sharing something…”

“Anything,” Thomas started, feeling secure with Alex in his arms. “As long as I don’t have to share you.”

_ _ _

First Date Photo and another short fic from this night here.

———

Thomas Hunt Tags: @hopelessromantic1352 ; @alleksa16 ; @pinkcoloredmarshmallow ; @the-soot-sprite

[halothenthehorns]

THE VANISHING GLASS

"Yeah," James agreed with a slight grin. "One of us could be Minister if we play our cards right!"

"Or famous!" Sirius shouted.

"Or a teacher!" Remus jumped in.

His two friends froze with disgusted looks on their faces. "Honestly Moony, I will never understand why you insist on wanting such a profession," Sirius muttered.

"Yeah, nothing but paperwork and listening to kids complain all day," James agreed.

"Unless he got cool students like us!" Sirius amended, with a touch of excitement. "Then they could help make life entertaining."

Remus paled slightly at the prospect of teaching children like the Marauders because he had firsthand experience what kind of disaster that could be. Harry said nothing; he was merely watching his family with rapt attention. The first chapter had struck a hard cord inside him, as he realized he would grow up away from these people. Did he want his memories back if his own parents weren't going to be in them? He never found a chance to raise these questions however, since his mother had decided to ignore the others and start reading.

Ten years have passed since the first chapter, and the Dursley's house hasn't seemed to change at all. The only thing marking the change of time was the pictures above the mantel, showing the years of Dudley.

"Really?" Lily asked curiously.

"I do hope that means that we finally got through to Dumbledore," Sirius said with a straight face, "and that Harry's living with us now," and he gestured towards Remus, who was shaking his head sadly.

"You, Sirius, he'd be living with you. Werewolves aren't allowed to adopt, you know that." Harry jerked once in shock, as he appraised the man sitting next to him, but after a brief moment he relaxed again and pretended he hadn't heard a thing. If wizards existed, why not other creatures as well?

The others had continued on in the conversation, obviously not realizing such a slip had been made.

"Still, I would be able to adopt him and you'd be living with us. I could use all the help I could get in raising a kid, and we all know how much smarter than me you are." Sirius had continued in a slightly sarcastic tone at the end at that old joke.

"True enough," Remus chuckled, then frowned. "Though I'm still worried, if Harry's no longer living there, why would they make such a comment at that last sentence?" With a heavy sigh, Lily read the next sentence.

Yet Harry was still there, currently asleep, but not for long.

"Damn!" Sirius snarled.

"Then why didn't we come and get him?" Remus wondered, and they all turned to Harry as if

expecting an answer. He however merely shrugged, as lost as them.

His Aunt Petunia was awake and she used her shrill voice to yell at him to get up, now!

"What a pleasant wake-up call," James said as he rolled his eyes.

Harry wakes up very suddenly, his Aunt seemed to have walked away for a moment as he hears the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove.

Remus quirked a brow in surprise at the comment as he thought, how thin was the walls in that house for Harry to have heard that?

Harry lay back for a moment and thought of the dream he'd been having, it was a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it.

"Wow, what a mind," Remus whistled. "To be able to remember that."

"I don't think he actually remembers," Lily shook her head. "Just his subconscious dredging up things."

"If only my memory was still that good," Harry sighed, rubbing his temple in agitation.

Then his aunt was back, demanding to know if he was up yet so that he could look after the food. It was Dudley's birthday, and Harry had to make sure not to burn anything.

That stopped Lily cold as she turned from the book to her son, "They made you cook? You were probably just ten, and they had you cook?" she demanded, eyes flashing.

"Maybe I like cooking," Harry shrugged, unable to come up with any other reason for this.

"What's the big deal?" Sirius shrugged. "If he can reach the stove he can get his own food, faster that way."

Lily groaned and James shot him a look that clearly said 'you're not helping.'

Harry groaned because he seemed to have forgotten this fact.

Harry jolted in surprise, suddenly having a horrid sense of Déjà vu, but why? Was Dudley's birthday a major event in his life, something that would help him? With high hopes he egged his mother to go on.

Harry got dressed and exited his bed, which happens to be in the cupboard under the stairs where he slept.

It took a moment for that to sink in, but once it did you'd think someone had died in the household. With a snarl of rage Lily dropped the book and lunged to her feet, as if she were intending to march to her sister's house with an army and tear every joint out of place, slowly. James didn't know what to think, was this some kind of sick joke? He reached down and picked up the book, determined to see this for himself. There were the words printed bold as brass upon the page. He too got up and made to go and curse those Dursleys to jelly for forcing his son to sleep in a cupboard. That was a place for shoes, not his son!

Remus and Sirius seemed to be more in shock, still reeling from the fact that they had not picked Harry up at the first moment. Where were they? Had something happened to them too? Perhaps the death eaters had killed them as well, but Dumbledore and McGonagall had not known yet, or

it had happened a short time later. It was a very surreal fact to realize you were going to die. Harry was just looking around the room in confusion;he did not really understand how or why they were so upset. Wasn't that normal?

Losing air in her lungs, Lily ceased spouting verbal abuse and strode towards the door, wand in hand. No one made a move to stop her, so Harry quickly got to his feet and stood in front of his mother with a pleading look. "It's okay, it hasn't happened yet. Or it already happened, or...oh never mind. The point is, can't do much about it now can you? I'm okay, and I doubt I was in there long. Maybe something was wrong with my room." He paused as he tried to remember this, and a vague memory of cramped and dark living conditions crept upon him, but nothing more than that.

James shook his head violently from side to side and said, "Harry, it said that was where you slept, and even if there was something wrong with your bedroom, you should share a room with your cousin before you slept in a bloody cupboard."

Feeling exasperated but unwilling to let his parents leave him, he cast his mind about for some other way to keep them here, until the baby started crying. He looked around in relief as little baby Harry kicked up a fuss in Sirius's grip, and Lily deflated as she rushed over to comfort him. James seemed to be teetering on edge, obviously wanting to go and right the wrong that had been done against his son, but looking into both of their faces; decided he couldn't leave, not quite yet.

With a sigh of relief Harry went back to the couch and sat between his parents again, and Lily transferred baby Harry to James while she got the book and went back to her place, while the older Harry sat rubbing at his temples. Just from the little he had read, a vague sort of feeling had come over him, along with the cramped feeling of before. How long had he lived in that cupboard? It must have been a while, if he could remember nothing more than that spacing. His mother, finally a little bit calmer, was ready to read on.

When he gets to the kitchen he sees the table hidden beneath Dudley's presents. Noticing a new computer, television, and racing bike.

When James opened his mouth to ask, Sirius quickly jumped in with, "Muggle stuff James. Don't ask."

The three all threw him surprised looks before James really did ask, "How would you know that?"

Sirius snorted and reminded them, "I did take Muggle Studies, remember?"

"But you actually paid attention?" Lily demanded, only half joking.

Sirius simply shrugged, enjoying their shock. "Sure, I took the class to piss me mum off. What better way than to get a NEWT in the class." Lily and Remus both rolled their eyes before Lily went on.

Harry silently wonders to himself why Dudley could want this last thing, as he was adverse to any form of exercise that didn't involve punching someone.

"Oh great," Lily sighed. "My son's going to grow up with a bully."

Dudley's favorite victim was Harry.

"Hey!" The boys all snarled, before James spoke. "Great, he not only grew up with a bully, but he's victim to him as well."

"I'm sure his parents at least try to prevent it," Lily said in a hopeful voice.

Remus snorted, unconvinced. "Please Lils, do you not remember where he sleeps?" Again, they all turned to Harry, like they wanted an answer, but he just shrugged. He vaguely remembered being knocked to the ground quite a bit, but not much else or who did it.

Harry describes himself as being small and skinny, and equates that to growing up in the dark cupboard.

Lily and James both pursed their lips at the reminder, while Sirius and Remus laughed. "Nope sorry kid, that's genes. Your father was a scrawny git when I first met him," Sirius snickered for Harry's benefit.

"Oi!" James snapped, but had no way to deny it.

Harry merely beamed as he realized he was even more like his father.

His stature seemed all the smaller because he only had clothes that once belonged to Dudley, a boy four times his size.

"Are you kidding me?" Lily yelped in anger. "They don't even buy him his own clothes?"

"That can't be right," Remus frowned. "What on Earth would the school think? One boy comes in looking prim, while the other looks half sick?" James and Sirius were fuming up a storm, both wanting answers and revenge but unclear of how to get it yet.

Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes.

"A perfect combination of your parents that is," Sirius told him, managing to bring up a smile for the older Harry, who again couldn't help but beam with pride.

He wore round glasses held together with Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.

"Let me guess," Remus snarled. "Your Aunt and Uncle couldn't be bothered to ever get you new ones, or even bother to ask how they were broken?" Harry merely shrugged and tapped the tip of his glasses, deciding they were probably only mended now because he had fixed them himself with magic.

The only thing Harry seems to like about his own appearance was the scar upon his forehead. When he'd asked how he'd gotten it, his Aunt had told him 'in the car crash where your parents died.'

"What!?" shouted all of the adults in the room, outraged that Petunia would lie about something like that. The combined volume of their fury once again set the baby off, causing them to quiet down, though they were no less angry. Lily made to set the book down and reach for her son again, but James waved her off and cradled his son close, crooning to him and apologizing for startling him. Hickory heard the disturbance and slunk down from the mantle and crawled up onto James lap, settling himself close to Harry's face again. Once the cat's tail was back in his view, baby Harry started to giggle and attempted to grab at it, settling him down once more.

Now that all the shouting was done, Remus turned on the adult Harry and demanded, "You grew up for ten years thinking that your parents died in a car crash?"

Harry shrugged, unable to fully answer him with his fuzzy memories, but unwilling to admit that

he believed that was true. Sirius had a mad look on his face as he spat, "But Dumbledore left a note explaining what happened to them in your bedding clear as day. No way could they have missed it! How could they lie about such a thing?"

Lily's mind was frantic, trying to come up with some excuse for her sister. She was not in a forgiving mood after the treatment it implied her child had been getting, but finally settled on the most plausible thing she could think of. "Maybe she just said that until he gets his Hogwarts letter. She's trying to protect him from the horrible truth, just like Dumbledore wanted. He might have even told them to do it."

Sirius twisted around and spat in the fire to let out his agitation as James growled, "If he did then he'll be hearing from me! Lie to my son about something like this! You can't really believe that?" Lily deflated, no she didn't believe it, but she didn't want to think her sister would do something like this either. So she went on reading, ignoring the irritated glares in her direction.

She would always follow up with 'don't ask questions.'

Remus frowned in agitation. "How do you cover that one Lils? Don't ask questions; it's as if they're trying to pretend he doesn't even live there!"

Lily still had her head ducked towards the book, unwilling to admit that it seemed this way to her as well.

As Vernon entered the kitchen for the first time, his first comment to Harry was to comb his hair.

"As pleasant as his wife," Sirius growled.

Dudley makes his arrival last, being described as very blonde and pink faced with lots of extra weight. His mother often called him a baby angel.

James snorted, "Yeah, if baby angels look like blond piglets." His friends gave appreciative snorts of amusement for that.

Harry said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

At that they all roared with laughter, "It's official , you are their son," Remus decided.

"When was it unofficial?" Harry asked, though he too seemed pleased by this.

Once Dudley sits down and counts out his presents, he complains that he has two less than the year before.

Everyone in the room had astounded looks on their faces at that, "Why would he even remember such a thing?" Lily wondered.

Harry on the other hand was busy mulling over memories that he was pretty sure had come from his early childhood and decided that this was quite common, and had finally settled on the fact that he did indeed remember this day, and suddenly wanted to encourage his younger self to hurry up and finish his breakfast.

Petunia tries to pacify Dudley, telling him he hadn't looked at the one his mummy had gotten him.

"The way she talks to him!" Lily rolled her eyes. "I don't even talk to baby Harry like that, and

he's less than a year old."

Sirius shrugged and said, "Maybe the lot of them have a mental disorder and they can't process things above a year six level?" James and Remus snickered at that.

Dudley still looks in danger of throwing a fit even after his mother points out he miss counted one, and Harry begins to eat faster, knowing Dudley had a habit of throwing the table over.

"How often did that happen?" Sirius asked curiously.

"About once a month since he was five," Harry said automatically, and then jolted in surprise at what he said. He didn't know how he remembered that, it just sort of came out.

The others were all looking on, his parents with disapproval, and the other two with glee. "You're getting your memories back!" Remus said with a grin.

"What a horrible child," Lily muttered.

"I can't believe you grew up with that boy," James grumbled.

His mother fixes the problem by promising to buy him two more presents while they were out today.

Everyone in the room looked appalled at that, "That is so not the way you deal with an impending tantrum!" Lily spluttered.

Dudley struggled to add this up, his mother supplying the correct number of presents he will then have.

"Did I say six years old?" Sirius asked with a straight face. "I meant two."

Dudley finally seems appeased and sits down to begin opening the nearest parcel.

"That's obviously the way they dealt with it in the past," Remus sighed.

"At least the father's not in on it," James said grimly. "He's been silent so far."

"Wait for it," Harry muttered.

Vernon's reaction is to praise his son, saying he deserved this and more.

"I stand corrected," James groaned, looking more upset about their behavior than the fact that he was wrong.

Dudley opens several more presents of expensive taste, like a video camera and a VCR.

Before the pure-blood could open his mouth, Lily and Remus quickly said, "Later."

He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch

"Huh," Sirius said in surprise, "that's usually what we give wizards when they come of age." His eyes quickly flashed to the watch on the grown Harry's wrist, and then flickered to the one on James. They were not the same one, as they should have been.

"Who gave you that one then?" Remus asked as he gestured at the slightly dented watch.

Harry glanced down at his wrist, almost as if he'd forgotten he had it on, and then frowned in agitation. All he could remember was a sense of warmth, and perhaps a warm hug, whenever he tried to remember. When he told the others, they all looked slightly happy at that, but James was still frowning. Harry should have gotten his watch, been hugged by Lily when he received it.

When Petunia came back from the phone looking angry, saying that someone named Mrs. Figg couldn't 'take him'.

"What does she mean, 'take him?'" Lily asked in surprise. "Surely wherever they're going they planned on taking my son."

"Come off it," Sirius scoffed. "You really believe that from what we've seen so far?" Lily pursed her lips before going on.

The narrative explains that every year for Dudley's birthday, while the Dursleys are out, Harry is left with the neighbor Mrs. Figg.

"You've got to be kidding me," James snarled with clenched fists, but quickly relaxed when the baby in his arms squirmed. Sirius twisted around and spat in the fireplace again, while the others vented their frustration by cursing themselves. Harry merely watched, almost amused by their reactions. He had no problem with this, why would he want to be around these people more often anyway? They didn't seem to be very good company, unlike the people he was with now.

Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Argh!" Sirius groaned. "I feel so sorry for you Harry."

"Why?" Harry asked curiously, it didn't sound very pleasant but Sirius' reaction seemed a little extreme.

"Cabbage, that's the worst thing I could think of, pure torture that is," Sirius grumbled.

Petunia gives Harry a nasty look, as if he'd planned this.

"I bet," James snorted. "I can just imagine my son plotting how to break an old lady's leg."

"Really?" Harry asked with a frown.

"No sweetie," Lily said smiling. "He was joking."

Remus smiled and said, "One thing you should learn quickly about those two," he jerked his head in his friend's direction. "Don't take much of what they say seriously." Remus winced in horror at once as he realized his slip a moment too late.

"I take everything Siriusly," Sirius said at once, while the others just groaned and Harry laughed.

Harry knew he should have felt sorry, but since he hated his time there looking at pictures of old cats it didn't come easy.

"Hum," Remus said thoughtfully. "Isn't there a Figg in the Order? She's not quite as old as Harry leads us to believe, plus she's a squib. I know she breeds kneazles then names them ridiculous things to throw off what they are."

"Could be," James agreed. "After all, Harry is 'The Boy Who Lived'. Dumbledore probably wants

an Order member close to him."

"If so," Lily said in a cold voice. "Why wouldn't she have told him about the treatment Harry receives? Even if he never told anyone, it seems apparent just by the description of him."

"Right," Remus deflated. "Forget I mentioned anything."

Vernon suggests calling someone named Marge.

"Who's Marge?" Sirius asked with a frown, clearly knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"The name rings a bell, I can tell you now she's not someone we'd like to meet," Harry answered, also frowning.

All the adults exchanged looks, knowing that if Harry was acting like this without the memories to reinforce such feelings, they were going to hate this woman.

No one seemed to take into account Harry was sitting right there, they often spoke about him as if he wasn't there, or like he couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"I'd go with the first option," James sneered. "If only because it makes me feel better than calling my son a slug."

"That is horrible," Remus snarled. "How could you treat anyone like that?"

"Prejudices," Sirius said quietly, his mind flashing back to when he had suggested bringing Remus round to his place once. He regretted that thought at once.

Vernon suggests Petunia could call someone named Yvonne.

Lily looked up in surprise. "I can't believe Petunia's still friends with her. They were always going on about traveling together, but Yvonne left a few years ago without Petunia. Tuney swore she wasn't ever going to talk to her again for that."

James shrugged and said, "I suppose she changed her mind."

"Well she can't have many friends, probably made up with her to at least claim she still had one," Sirius snorted derisively.

A few hours ago Lily would have told Sirius off for talking about her sister like that, but then her mind swiveled back to the cupboard, and she held her tongue.

Harry offers that they could just leave him home alone.

"They might do that if they don't think like Harry," Remus said, grinning. "I believe the phrase that runs through their minds is 'see or not to be seen'. If we're still going with the assumption that they are trying to ignore his existence, Harry might just get away with that."

"Let's hope they don't think like Harry," Sirius muttered.

Petunia looks horrified at the thought, snapping that they would come back to find the house in ruins.

"What do they think he's going to do," James rolled his eyes. "Burn it down?"

Harry tries to protest in saying he won't blow up the house, but no one listened.

"This is awesome!" Sirius crowed. "Now we've got a nice round number of think-a likes!"

You could almost hear the crickets chirping in the background after that kind of declaration as Remus shook his head slowly and said, "Really Sirius? Really?"

Petunia suggested taking him to the zoo, but leaving him in the car.

"What the bloody hell?" Lily hissed. "My son is not a dog!"

"You know, technically, you're not even supposed to do that to dogs," Remus said wisely. "Even if you leave the windows open a little, the direct sunlight streaming into the car without any, or little, ventilation outwards can cause heat strokes in dogs. The bigger the dog, the more likely."

"Thank you for that educational lesson Professor," James rolled his eyes. "Now I feel bad for locking Padfoot in the sun room last week."

"You did that?" Sirius yelped. "You told me Peter did that!"

"I lied," he said simply, smirking a little.

Harry felt an instant of blood chilling hatred for something Sirius had just said, but the combination of his ingrained no questions habit and honestly not even sure how to address such a feeling made it quickly fade to the back of his mind before he even recognized it.

Lily sighed as she realized what her boys were trying to do, pissed though they were as well, they were helping her to try to take her mind off of it. It was in vain however, as she still had to keep reading.

Vernon protests the car was new; Harry wasn't going to be left in it alone.

"Yeah, cause that's the most important part of that suggestion," Sirius rolled his eyes as he twisted around to spit in the fire.

Dudley began to fake cry, knowing if he pretended to wail his mother would give him anything he wanted.

Remus leaned forward and rubbed his temples in agitation, just imagining that noise was giving him a horrid headache. While the other three adults were shooting each other significant looks, knowing full well that all three would like to pop that kid a good one in the mouth when they were still kids. Harry was still frowning, straining to remember what happened.

His mother refers to him in a ridiculous pet name, 'Dinky Duddydums'

"And the year levels are still dropping," Sirius chuckled.

"You keep going with that and you're going to reverse them back into the womb," James reminded him.

Sirius just shrugged, clearly saying 'it works.'

Dudley sobs that he doesn't want Harry to come, because he would ruin everything, then shoots Harry a nasty grin where his mother couldn't see.

"Jerk-"

"Prat-"

"Oaf-"

"Pig-"

"Arse."

They all looked at each other, startled upon realizing they had all used different insults that still fit him perfectly.

At that moment one of Dudley's friends comes over, and he's briefly described as having the face of a rat.

"It almost makes you feel for all these ugly people," Harry sighed dramatically, causing the rest of the room to chuckle.

He seems to have the same personality as Dudley, as Harry notes he's the one who usually pins the kids arms back while Dudley punches them.

"Charming boy that one is," Sirius sneered as he tried not to picture whose arms he would have been holding.

Dudley stopped pretending tocr y at once.

"'Course he did," Remus snarled. "Can't look weak in front of your awful friends."

"You can show any emotion around real friends," Lily agreed quietly, coming to the sudden realization that it had not mentioned one single friend of Harry's.

Harry gets to go to the zoo with the Dursleys, mostly because they couldn't think of anything else to do with him.

"I don't think a zoo trip's worth that," James wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah, was there even space?" Sirius pondered, picturing half the back seat taken up by that pig.

Before they could leave though, Vernon pulls Harry aside and threatens him that if any funny business happens, he'd lock Harry up in his cupboard until Christmas.

"They- they wouldn't do that, would they?" Lily gasped, horror etched into her face.

"I doubt that," Sirius muttered with a horrible look on his face. "Unless they don't value their lives at all." Harry pursed his lips and did not comment.

Harry promised nothing would happen, but no one ever believed him when he said that.

"That's not right," Remus muttered sadly. "No child should have to grow up with no one listening to them."

"I didn't totally grow up that way," Harry muttered to himself, trying to recollect this vague sense of friendship he had. He was hoping that, like with this birthday, more memories would come back to him if he had more Déjà vu. So far, nothing, he could just remember his childhood, which wasn't that pleasant to remember anyway.

The narrative begins listing some of the odd things that happen around Harry, starting with the time Petunia cut off most of his hair but left the bangs to hide his scar.

"That's not right!" James hissed in outrage. "Unless you consented to that, and I doubt you did, they shouldn't have done it. I don't care how old you are!"

Harry decided not to mention that his Aunt had threatened him with a week in his cupboard if he so much as flinched to try and stop her, since there was nothing he could do about it now and it would probably just upset his dad further.

Harry spent the night worrying how stupid he would look, but his hair seemed to magically grow back overnight.

"Good," James sighed in relief, running his hand through his hair.

"Your hair is way too important to you," Remus joked.

"Why shouldn't it be? It's what got me this beautiful family," James agreed.

"I did not fall in love with you because of your hair," Lily snapped. "That's what kept me away from you for all those years!" Before they could get into a familiar round, Remus cleared his throat, to Harry's disappointment as for some reason watching bickering felt very familiar to him, and Lily read on.

He was locked in his cupboard for a week for this happening.

"That- that- that-!" Lily stuttered, unable to come up with a proper insult for her sister. No, no Petunia Dursley was no longer her sister, she didn't deserve the title. No Tuney she had ever known would do this to her son.

The males were clearly just as upset but after a look at Harry, who was staring apprehensively around the room as if thinking they were all going to start yelling at him. Then let out the breathe he was holding when they merely scowled and started muttering all the things they'd like to do to those relatives of his.

Another time Petunia tried to force a sweater onto Harry and the more Harry struggled against it the more it shrank . By the end it could have fit a mouse, but not Harry. Petunia decided it must have shrunk in the wash, and Harry wasn't punished.

"You never should have been," They all snapped at once, startling baby Harry in James arms.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens.

"How much is terrible trouble?" James growled, rounding on his son.

Harry just shrugged and tried to put an innocent look on his face, but Remus intervened. "Don't lie Harry, that face isn't going to fool us. You remember, now tell."

With a huge sigh Harry admitted, "A week in the cupboard, and a week of chores." While the adults started muttering in disgust, Harry mentally added 'and a day without meals.'

Dudley's gang had been chasing him when, to Harry's surprise, there he was sitting on the chimney.

"Nice, you apparated!" James grinned.

"I don't think so," Lily shrugged. "He probably would have described that odd feeling, he could have just flown."

"Either way," Sirius whistled low in his throat. "Damn."

When the Dursleys got a letter from the school telling them this, Harry was once again locked in his cupboard.

Their thoughts were once again ripped off of the child's magic in favor of that horrid home life.

Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

"How skinny were you, for you to believe that?" Sirius asked

Harry chuckled slightly and said, "I also thought the over large clothes would act as a parasol, help catch the wind."

Far from finding this amusing, it merely aggravated them that his clothes didn't fit properly.

Harry was determined that nothing would go wrong today. Stating it was worth being crammed in the backseat with Dudley just to be going somewhere new.

"Yeah, I suppose," James amended his earlier statement. "When you put it like that."

While he drove, Vernon spent the ride complaining. He seemed to enjoy complaining about things, including people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry.

"Moony, I bet you can't guess his top three favorite things to complain about!" Sirius said, choosing to make a joke out of it rather than curse some more.

Remus decided to play along as he pretended to mull it over and said, "Um, people at work, the bank, and the council."

"Err!" Sirius made a sound like a buzzer. "It's Harry, then Harry, then Harry!" Harry burst out laughing at their antics, so the bantering served its purpose.

This morning, it was motorcycles.

"What's wrong with motorcycles?" James asked as he rolled his eyes.

"Jamesie, let me put it to you this way; if it's cool, he doesn't like it," Sirius said with a straight face and a serious tone.

Harry mentioned that he'd had a dream about a flying motorcycle.

"Why on Earth would you do that?" Lily moaned, hoping this wouldn't ruin her son's, rare, good day. If they had learned anything about those Dursleys, it was that Harry shouldn't be drawing attention to himself.

"Sorry," Harry muttered. "It was the euphoria of being out, besides it's not like they ever listened to what I said anyway. Mostly they just ignored me if I did say something. Didn't expect them to actually hear me." Nobody appreciated this bit of honesty.

Vernon nearly crashed into another car.

"Pity he didn't," Sirius sighed.

"Sirius!" Lily snapped. "My son's in that car."

James shrugged and said, "Yeah Lils, but he's a wizard, it wouldn't even scratch him. Plus, I like the irony," and a dark look overtook him as he remembered that horrible lie.

"Yes, but if he did crash, he'd blame it on Harry," Remus pointed out, which put a stop to any kind of thinking like that.

He began yelling at Harry that motorcycles can't fly!

"Shows what you know," Sirius sneered.

Harry regretted saying anything, since he got told off even more when he mentioned things that weren't remotely the way they should be, even if they were just from the television. He thought the Dursleys would think it gave him dangerous ideas.

"I don't think it's you, so much as you might mention them to your cousin," Remus said slowly.

"What's a television?" James asked instead of snapping that wasn't helping like he wanted to.

"Eh, it's kind of like if the pictures that we talked to had backgrounds that moved as well, inside a box. Runs on the Muggles form of energy called electricity, that's how they were watching the news on the first chapter," Sirius happily explained. He knew James had a good reason for not having registered that the first time, but he would have thought back on that eventually so he just added it on now. James nodded in understanding, not pressing for more details like he wanted to.

When they got to the zoo, there's an ice cream stand at the entrance. Harry gets a cheap lemon pop before the Dursleys can shoo him away.

All of the adults shifted in agitation, thinking 'at least he got some thing.'

While wandering around Harry spots a gorilla that looks a lot like his cousin, except it wasn't blond.

"That's right Prongslet," James patted adult Harry on the top of his head. "Think positive." Harry laughed at the way his dad was doing that, but then determined that he would have to ask about those nicknames they kept using when the chapter was over.

By lunch Harry starts hanging back from the rest, in case Dudley started getting bored and picked up on his favorite hobby of hitting Harry.

Lily shot a disgusted look at the Marauders, clearly remembering their favorite hobby on the occasions they got bored in the school corridors, but she was in too much of a temper to really go at that now. Besides they had, in the past few years, made it clear to her that they did at least slightly regret doing those things.

During lunch Harry gets to finish Dudley's desert because he didn't want it.

Harry frowned, but chose not to bring up the fact that the book left a little something out. The only reason he had been allowed to finish it was because it was half melted in the sun and Piers had refused to eat it because it had looked disgusting . Uncle Vernon had shoved it roughly to the side and Harry just took it and no one stopped him. The adults in the room looked so pleased that Harry had gotten something like that; he just couldn't bring himself to mention his memory.

Harry felt that he should have known it was all too good to last.

"Dun, dun, dun..." Sirius said in a low tone voice.

"Sirius." Lily scolded .

"Sorry Lils." Sirius said trying to hide a chuckle only to get a glare from Lily.

While in the reptile house, they found a huge snake that could have wrapped around Vernon's car and easily crushed it.

"A lovely thought, that one," all three boys sighed, clearly daydreaming this very thing.

But it was sleeping as Dudley pressed his nose against the glass.

"Poor snake," Sirius shuddered, "having to get a close up of that."

"I don't believe it!" James pretended to faint. "Who are you and what have you done with Sirius? He would never say poor snake! Horrible snake maybe, disgusting snake probably, but never poor!"

Sirius just shrugged and said, "I have nothing against the animals, 's'not their fault, so don't take things out of context mate." James pouted slightly because Sirius hadn't played along but let it go for now.

Dudley orders his father to make the snake move, so Vernon raps his knuckles smartly against the window.

"I didn't know he could do anything smartly," Remus gasped, making Harry chuckle.

"It's an expression Remus," Lily rolled her eyes while Remus frowned at her.

"I know that Lily." Remus grumbled.

Dudley gets bored and begins to wander away, so Harry takes a closer look, starting to feel pity for the creature that had nothing to do but have people bother it all day.

"Sounds like fun to me," Sirius drawled. "Parties every night and people to freak out, what more could you want?" This time the others just ignored him.

Harry compared his life to the snakes, thinking at least he got to stretch his legs.

"Your life's got to be really bad if you're sympathizing with a zoo animal," Remus muttered, mostly to himself.

The snake took notice of Harry's attention and woke up, then met Harry's eye level and blinked.

"Snakes can't blink," Lily frowned. "They don't have eyelids."

"Maybe it's a trick of the light," Harry agreed, trying to think back to what was about to happen.

The snake seemed abnormally intelligent, giving a very obvious look to where Vernon and Dudley were and then looking to the ceiling in a gesture that clearly said 'I get that all the time.

All four of them frowned, finding this action rather odd of a common animal, perhaps the snake did tricks?

Harry whispered back how annoying that must be, and the snake nods.

"It-" James started, and then stopped, seeming unable to keep going. Sirius and Lily also had astounded looks on their faces. Harry frowned and edged away from them, having a faint memory of lots of eyes boring into him with hate, fear, and dislike.

Remus caught sight of this first, and quickly said, "It's alright Harry, we're not mad at you. Just confused. Parseltongue goes down through bloodlines, and James isn't one. We just don't understand why you're one."

"Oh." he muttered, relaxing again at that, but then frowned as the word tickled something in his mind. "What's a parseltongue?"

"It means you can talk to snakes. You speak parseltongue, so you're a parselmouth," Sirius said slowly, still trying to get over the shock.

Lily and James exchanged a look, and decided that they wouldn't tell him they were so freaked out because the only snake talking people were those of very dark and evil magic, but this was their son. No, they wouldn't give him any more to worry about, so Lily just read on. Taking the hint, neither Remus nor Sirius intended to go into any further details either.

Harry begins a full conversation with the snake now, asking it if it had a life before he came to the zoo.

"I rather like this snake," James laughed, trying to shake off the last of his confusion. "It's right friendly."

"You were taking this rather calmly," Lily voiced, "had this happened to you before?"

"No," Harry shrugged, "but after all of the weird things that had happened to me, I just kind of went with this." Privately adding it was nice to talk to anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention to him like this reptile was doing. He had often spoken to the spiders in his cupboard sometimes in this same way, though they'd never responded back of course.

The snake was shaking its head no in answer when Dudley's friend catches sight of what Harry's doing and calls Dudley back over. Dudley came hurrying over as fast as he could.

"I doubt it could have been that fast," Sirius snickered.

On his way, Dudley punches Harry in the ribs.

All three males clenched their fists at that, wishing they were ten years old again so they could punch that git in the face and not get into as much trouble for it.

Harry falls back in shock, so he misses what happens in between Dudley looking into the glass and Dudley leaping back in fear.

"What happened?" the boys asked in excitement, hoping their little Marauder Jr. would come up with something more creative than punching him back later.

The glass had disappeared giving the snake the chance to slither away but stopped to thank

Harry. The keeper of the reptile house was in shock, repeating over and over again where the glass could have gone?

"Wherever it wanted to," James rolled his eyes.

"That was a pointless interruption James," Lily snapped, starting to get to the end of her rope.

"Quite the clean-up job for Ministry though," Remus chuckled.

On the ride home Dudley and his friend began exaggerating the story, though the snake had only nipped playfully at them as he escaped.

"Knew I liked that snake," Sirius laughed.

According to Dudley though, the snake nearly bit his leg off, and Dudley's friend was going into all sorts of details how he was nearly strangled.

"If only, if only, if only," James hummed under his breath.

But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say that Harry had been talking to the snake.

"No!" all the adults gasped, now Harry was going to get in trouble again! They were all shaking, just a bit. What kind of punishment would he really get for putting his cousin in danger?

Vernon waited until Piers was out of the house before starting on Harry.

"Why?" they all hissed at once, trying not to picture those reasons.

He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to stutter out for Harry to go to his cupboard, with no meals. Petunia scuttled away to get Vernon some alcohol.

"No meals?" Lily murmured, looking faint.

James quickly placed baby Harry in her arms, which seemed to steady her, but then he lunged to his feet and started swearing at the top of his lungs. In a fit of pure rage Sirius summoned up a pillow off the sofa and stuffed it in his mouth to keep himself from doing the same while his hands clenched and unclenched as if wishing to wring somebody's neck.

Remus jumped to his feet and spat in the fire, and Sirius noticed that there was a bit of blood in there. He must have bitten his tongue with the effort of not copying James' actions. "I can't believe this!" Remus growled, pacing back and forth in front of the couch, looking very much like a mother wolf protecting her cubs. "I really can't believe any of them. Even Peter or Sirius alone would be better guardians than them!"

Sirius would have made a comment about that any other day, but now he felt that Remus had never spoken truer words. Harry went around to all of them and did his best to reassure them, until they were all at least quiet enough or still whispering mutinously but low enough to hear, that Lily went on. Lily gently deposited baby Harry back into James' arms so she could finish the chapter.

Harry lay awake in his cupboard hours later, knowing he couldn't sneak out for food until he was sure everyone else was asleep.

Lily clenched her jaw so tight her vision started to blur to keep the tears away; you shouldn't have to sneak around your own home! Even if that was the farthest thing from home any one could

picture.

The boys were all looking murderous that Harry would have to put such useful skills as sneaking about to something like that, but managed to hold their tongues.

Harry reflected how he'd lived with the Dursleys all his life, all ten years of it miserable, and how he wished his parents hadn't died in that car crash.

Sirius twisted and spat in the fire for that horrid reminder, and noted absently how badly it was starting to sputter out. He quickly pulled out his wand and helped the flames back up to a healthier level while the others looked at him enviously, wishing they could do something similar to vent.

He couldn't remember being in the car when it happened, just a blinding green light.

Now they were all shifting their weight around, trying not to picture what had been done to their Harry.

This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from.

"We ran a green light," Lily muttered snidely.

He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and he was forbidden to ask. There were no photographs of them in the house.

Everyone deflated like tires with punctures in them. "You, didn't even know what we looked like?" James asked sadly.

"I do know," Harry reminded him, "now. Besides, like you guys pointed out at the beginning of the chapter, you can fix this. We can read all this, and hopefully I'll remember enough so that we can prevent this from happening. I can grow up with you guys."

"Nothing would ever please us more," Lily whispered.

Harry reflected back on when he was younger, when he'd dreamed of someone taking him away from this place.

Both Remus and Sirius winced at that, convinced they must have died, as well as Peter, to leave Harry like that.

The Dursleys were his only family.

"That's not family," Lily hissed in outrage, but did not need to elaborate, they all knew what she meant.

There had been a few odd moments where random people on the street seemed to acknowledge Harry, but they all vanished before Harry could ask.

"Huh," Remus muttered. "Those are probably surviving members of the Order. I can't believe Dumbledore would just leave you there with no one watching you."

"Look what good it's done," James muttered in disgust.

This must just be fantasies though, because Harry had no one.

"That was horrible," Lily murmured, flipping to the next chapter. "I don't think I can stand another chapter about your younger years."

James reached over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before saying softly, "It's okay Lily flower, I'd like to think his Hogwarts letter will be coming soon, very soon, and then they'll have to treat him decently. They'll know he's a wizard, and wouldn't do a thing to him."

Lily sighed, unconvinced, but passed the book to James none the less as she took her son back.

Hope this chapter was okay. It's one of my favorites, if only cause I love the peoples reactions to this and the next one. I always mark how good a story this is, or could be, by this and the next chapter. So I'm hoping sincerely that you guys are pleased with this one.

[formeandmyfics]

Where Did He Go?

JUGENEA FAN FICTION

1963

Author note: I re-watched a dinner scene from ‘Burton & Taylor’ and it was so very Jugenea that I decide to build a snippet around it. That scene is not mine, just edited to fit the Jugenea universe.*

“You’re going to be great, darling,” Judy said holding June Allyson’s face in her hands adoringly.

They two sat in opposite chairs on the CBS soundstage of The Judy Garland Show during the last rehearsal of episode 5, which would tape in front of a live audience the following day.

June’s husband, Dick Powell, had died earlier that year and it left her good friend deeply depressed. So, Judy invited her to perform on her show. It was the first time she had performed since his passing so it left June nervous on how she’d sound. Judy helped her friend with the melodies and showered her with nothing but love and reassurance. But, the hard work on the show and the energy she had been putting out to others left Judy drained. Not to mention, there was current tension at home with her husband.

Gene was the director of the show, their creative baby, as they called it, and at first everything was amazing. He understood her better than anyone, and he had experienced how she had been treated at MGM. She had been overworked, criticized, scrutinized, it goes on and on. Here, he was patient and understanding and open-minded. They were a ‘hell of a team’, even back to the old days when they acted opposite each other. Plus, Gene absolutely loved directing, especially in this medium. When she did her TV Specials, he was only a producer. Now, he was both and they could call all the shots.

But, a month and a half rolled by, and Judy noticed he would stay at work long after she had left. Most days he would come home and continue working for next week’s episode. She’d go to bed alone and wake up alone, as he’d already be out, or he’d be asleep in the adjoining bedroom. They didn’t go out on their usual date nights and any spare time they had was with the children. She knew this work was important, but she also noticed the two were becoming more like housemates than the lovers that they were.

This past week, however, Gene had started to act harder on the cast and crew. He was irritable, becoming too stern, and not as playful with screw ups as he had been previously. Judy knew Gene was a perfectionist, but she never thought he would treat her like some of his female costars in the movies he was with. Debbie Reynolds, for instance, whom he was very hard on because of her unskilled, ingénue stage.

June replied with relief, “Aw thank you, Judes; we’ll see how it goes tomorrow. That laryngitis really got me this time.”

“Nah, you sound like a bell. See you tomorrow, darling.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

As the two walked off the stage, Judy looked over at her husband who stood in a group of men going over some things. When she caught his attention from across the way, she motioned to him if she was okay to leave. Gene nodded and shoo’d her away.

When Judy got to her dressing room, she noticed a note taped up on her mirror next to all the pictures of the children hanging there. Leaning in closer, she immediately recognized the handwriting and furrowed her brow as she ripped the paper off to read it.

I’ll be working a little late again tonight. Meet me for a late supper and a drink at Musso and Franks in our usual spot. I’ll be there around 9.

Love you sweetheart,

G

Judy smiled. That was her honey. Feeling better, she left the studio right away to go home and get ready.

Precisely at 9 p.m., Judy walked into the popular bistro on Sunset dressed in a sleek, black cocktail dress with her highest stiletto’s, something Gene thought was sexy ever since she started wearing spiked heels during her concert career. She had washed off her thick stage makeup and applied a more natural look but still had her black lashes and fire red lips, something her husband also loved and her short hair was pulled back to look like a French twist.

Tony, the restaurant’s main maître d, held up his hands graciously as she walked through the door.

The short, bald man’s thick Italian accent filled her ears and she smiled warmly, “Ahh, Mrs. Kelly,”

The two were acquainted since the 40’s, when she first started coming there with Vincente, as it was his favorite restaurant. Tony was a new employee and always addressed her by her husband’s last name. The restaurant was known for its discretion. As a popular celebrity spot, it was always private and respectful to its well-known diners.

“You haven’t been here for months, yes?” he asked taking her hand. “Afraid not. We have been busy with work.”

“New television show. I’ve seen it. Magnifico.”

Judy laughed gleefully, “Thank you, Tony. I appreciate that. Is my husband here?”

“Ah, no. But Mr. Kelly did call ahead. We have your favorite booth over here for you.”

“Thank you.”

He led her to a booth directly behind Charlie Chaplin’s booth, a booth named after the actor, one of the restaurants first celebrity diners.  

She had just ordered a glass of her favorite German wine, when Gene walked in. He was in one of his business suits, but not a dinner suit and his expression looked a little stressed as he walked up to her.

“Hi, doll,” he bent over and gave her a kiss on the cheek before sitting across from her.

“I got your note.”

“I knew you’d see it. Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not.”

“Can I get you something to drink, sir?”

Gene turned to the waiter, “Scotch rocks, please.”

When the waiter walked away, Judy smiled at her husband in comfortable silence.

When he smiled back just the same she spoke up, “This is lovely. Very intimate.”

Gene noticed a couple across the way staring at them in awe and Judy noticed him staring back and she inquired, “What?”

“Bizarre. I mean, all these years and they’re still interested. You’d think they’d tire, but…”

He looked around again and seemed a little distant and Judy sighed, “Are you going to be like this all night? Just drifting off?”

“I was just thinking of the old times at Ciro’s. It’d mostly be all our friends and such but you’d have some tourists or newcomers come in and they’d sit there staring at all of us like they were watching a movie or something. Do you remember?”

“Sure do.”

“Do you ever think of those times at Ciro’s or The Coconut Grove?”

Judy blinked tenderly at the memories still very much alive for her, “Every day.”

The waiter set his drink down, “Here you are, Sir. Would you like to order?”

“Give us a few, thank you,” Gene took a sip of his drink and perched his lips together, “Did you hear about Saul and Patty?”

“No.”

“They’re getting divorced.”

Judy’s mouth opened a tad, “What? You’ve got to be joking.”

“Nope. They’re the last people I thought would get divorced.”

“Under what pretenses?”

“Not entirely sure. I know a while back he mentioned they were drifting apart.”

Judy raised her eyebrows as she looked down fiddling with her nail, “That’s a shame.”

“It’s funny isn’t it?”

“Hm?”

“What’s at the heart of a good relationship? I mean, love obviously, but that’s a catch-all, really. It’s the main area where all the other bits reside under. The question is: what’s the critical element of a fresh relationship, what keeps a couple together?”

“Err, passion for the heart and soul of one another.”

“Maybe.”

“Sex.”

“Hm. Important. Very.”

“Trust.”

“That’s probably it. I always feel I can trust you when it comes to our relationship.”

Judy smiled mischeviously,“Even before we married?”

“Our affair wasn’t about trust, we both know that. It was about perfect timing.”

“Really? That’s what you think bound us: timing? I always thought it was because of my legs.”

They both chuckled.

“Yes, well, they clearly had a role. They’re still magnificent by the way.”

Gene’s eyes shined as he took another sip of his cocktail and she almost blushed.

“So,” he said breaking the trance, “Are you ready to order or…”

“Darling, listen, listen, listen…” she cut him off gently, “I want to say some things. I’ve wanted to say them for a while. I almost did the other night but you seemed stressed…”

He immediately chimed in with a tired sigh, “I am stressed. I mean, we just got the show going and that damn CBS Aubrey is…”

Judy furrowed her brows a little taken back, “No, I’m not talking about the show, Gene. I’m talking about you and me and how our relationship has been since the show.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re overworking yourself and—“

“Judy, please,” he leaned forward on his elbows and lowered his voice, “Can I say something, now that’s it’s on my mind?” Judy nodded apprehensively and he continued, “There are a couple of things which have crept in over the beginning run of the show. They’re tiny things, but, the way you play to the audience, for instance, you seem too involved in knowing you’re on camera. I don’t mean knowing where to hit your mark, because you do that on point, but your confidence level. I think you should play it as if you are back on stage, you know at the Palace or Carnegie Hall…”

Judy stared at him appalled, “You’re giving me notes? I’m trying to talk to my husband, and instead my director is giving me acting notes?”

“No, I…”

Judy pushed her wine glass away from her not interested in the meal anymore, “Jesus, Gene. Why did you ask me out tonight?”

“What?”

“Why did you ask me out to supper tonight? Why did you do that?” she demanded.

“Because I wanted to have dinner with you and get a drink after a hard week at work.”

Judy giggled almost pathetically shaking her head.

“You’re my wife. It’s perfectly natural for me to want to get dinner with you, isn’t it?”

“I thought my husband was asking me out, not my director. I thought we were going on a date. I got all dressed up and was looking forward to spending time alone with you. You were just flirting with me and now you’re giving me god damn notes.”

Gene let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his seat, “For Christ sakes, Judy. I was just making conversation.”

Judy leaned forward and lowered her voice pointing at him to prove a point, “When we worked together in the past, you never discussed our work when we went out for dinner. Why now?”

“I told you I’m stressed. It’s a lot of pressure on me to…”

She cut him off, “It’s a lot of pressure on me, too, but you don’t see me giving you notes on how to be a better director.”

Gene clenched his jaw, “I beg your pardon.”

Judy rephrased herself, “You’re a great director, but lately, you’ve started acting the way you promised me you wouldn’t act.”

“Such as?” he demanded back.

“You’ve been hard on me. You’re irritable and impatient with everyone.” He opened his mouth to speak but she put her hand up, “At home, we’re drifting apart. I thought you noticed and that’s why I assumed you asked me out for a date. We haven’t gone out, we don’t spend time alone at home, and we barely even sleep in the same bed for goodness sakes.”

Gene acted like he barely listened as he pound his finger on the table now making a point himself, “I want our show to be perfect.”

Seeing that he didn’t reply to anything she said of them, she hissed, “Fine, in which case, I’ll take that note. Where did my Harry Palmer go, remember?”

Gene looked at her incredibly at the mention of his first on-screen character from their first picture.

“Or Serafin or Joe Ross…the man who would’ve risked everything for me. Who did! He risked his marriage and his career; he tossed it all against the rocks so he could be with me. Where did he go, Gene?” Her voice rose as she stood up, “Tell me where my fucking husband went!”

With that, she threw her napkin down on the table and stormed out as diners stared their way.

The next afternoon, it was past 12 when Gene finally emerged from the spare bedroom. He made his way to the kitchen where Judy was still in a bathrobe and making tea. When he walked in, looking well rested, she turned to look at him as if to see who it was, then turned back to her tea.  

“You slept late,” she said surprised.

“I guess I needed it.”

“You did.”

Gene stared at the back of her a moment as if pondering something before he walked up to her. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and placed his hand on her back, “Hi honey.”

She gave him a side eye, but her expression was soft and she didn’t nudge him away. It was good enough for him so he pulled her closer to speak softly into her ear as she stirred honey into her cup.

“Listen, I…”

Suddenly the sounds of the children piling through the front door interrupted them. Then teenage Liza came through the kitchen door.

“Hi, Papa Gene!” Liza exclaimed as she embraced him.

“Hi, baby, when did you here?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“How was the park?” Judy inquired.

“Good. The kids behaved themselves.”

“Went to Holmby Park again, huh?”

“Yep. Guess, what, Mama said that she’s going to do a Christmas show and that all of us can perform on there with her.”

“Oh, I know, it was my idea.”

“Was not…” Judy mumbled.

“Was so,” he repeated just the same.

Liza sensed some tension, “Ah, I’m going to make sure the kids get cleaned up,” and she quickly skedaddled out of there.

“I’m the one who mentioned it to you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I’m the one who set up the sketch.”

“But it was my idea, Gene.”

“Okay, it your idea sweetheart. It always is,” he said quite sarcastically.

“Don’t do that,” she sighed.

“Here is my idea. At the end of the show, I want you to sing Rainbow.”

Judy looked at him to protest but he quickly stopped her, “I know you don’t like doing it much on television, but I think if you do it with the children, it will be very special.”

She gently smiled, “I like that idea.”

“Good. You know, I did a lot of thinking last night about what you said…” he trailed off.

“And?” Judy took a sip of her tea.

“And, I have been quite a jerk haven’t I?”

“I wouldn’t say that, Gene. You’re not vindictive; you’re just being too hard on everyone all of a sudden. Including me.”

Gene hung his head and nodded, “I’m sorry. I know you’re under pressure, too, but I think for me that’s the reason why I’m suddenly short with everyone.”

“Maybe you should find ways to cope with that. Start swimming again. You always did that when you were stressed.”

“I think I will.”

“And what about us?”

“I miss you, too,” is all he said as he leaned over to give her a kiss, “Can I ask my wife out for dinner and dancing tonight after the show?”

“It’s tape night. Won’t you be too tired?”

“Darling, for you, it’s worth it.”

Judy smiled as he gave her another kiss.

[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 58 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 2,594

Aside from the one confrontation post-petticoat ukulele conspiracy, Logan still hasn’t talked with Cadmium. Really, truly talked to the guy. Tagging along on his tours doesn’t count. Granted, a fair amount of his Tuesdays and Thursdays are occupied with thoughts of Cadmium, but Logan does still have a life outside of him. It comes with no small amount of annoyance that this other life involves dealing with unsolvable problems at his internship.

“I heard there’s no real answer,” Cassidy says. She stabs her pen in the air, writing imaginary equations and scowling at the empty space.

“I heard they had this problem, like, years ago,” Joy says. Logan steeples his fingers under his chin with his elbows propped on his knees, watching Joy spin circles on her chair with her nose pointed at the ceiling. “I bet they already know the answer, and any intern that can’t crack it gets kicked to the curb.”

“Somehow, I feel like excessive alliteration isn’t the answer, Joy,” Micah calls from the water jug. His perspective might seem more valuable if his cheek weren’t flattened against the top of the machine in an utterly pitiful display of boredom.

“Oh, and I bet you already figured it out, huh, smart guy?” Joy’s retort also seems less valuable, as it comes at the same moment that she smacks her ankle into the leg of her desk, her spinning cut short. Logan is getting the sinking feeling that he chose the wrong scientific field.

“Maybe we’re looking at it from the wrong angle. Does someone want to read it again, and we all think of it with clean slates?” Logan glances around the room, hoping that his non-contribution will be sufficient. “Or, hey, Alex, have you got an idea? You haven’t said too much yet.”

Alex’s shock of dyed yellow hair jolts as they lift their eyes to peer over the top of the computer. “Can I get you a handkerchief, or did you dodge the splashback when you threw me under the bus just now?”

“ I’ll read it, you bunch of babies,” Cassidy sighs. “Okay. Riddle me this, folks. Thought experiments for the modern era.”

“Lay off the Mcelroy references and finish the question,” Micah grumbles.

Cassidy wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue before continuing. “The ship of Theseus proposes that a ship leaves a location and has every single part of itself periodically replaced before reaching a second location. The question is whether the ship to arrive is a different ship than the one to depart. Bear this in mind while assuming all cultural divides and disparities—cultural, political, scientific, or otherwise—are held in an impenetrable stasis that has no effect on the contents of the riddle, and conclusively solve the following. Jeez, talk about a run-on sentence.

“NASA launches a rocket to Neptune, and the only passenger is the child of a Russian and an American, where the parents were born on Earth and the child on Mars. The inhabited rocket was built half of parts from NASA and half of parts from Roscosmos. It contains enough parts to make an entirely new rocket, all of which were created on the moon. Allowing adequate suspensions of disbelief in favor of the passenger’s ability to build the new rocket and touch down on Neptune alive, which flag should be placed on Neptune as the first to arrive: That of Mars, the Moon, Earth, America, or Russia?”

“Does the moon even have its own flag?” Micah muses.

Joy slams the side of her fist on her desk hard enough to rattle the pens scattered across the floor. “This is such a stupid question. It barely even has anything to do with space!”

“It is about non-mathematical rocket science,” Alex points out.

“You could take the exact same problem and change a few key words to make it about a fish being flushed down a toilet,” Logan counters, “and nothing would change.”

“Is the fish dead?” Micah asks. “Because now you’re introducing aquatic zombies to the equation.”

“No aquatic zombies!” Joy and Alex shout in unison. Logan joins in the cry with a muttered mimic of his own, and even Cassidy looks quite done with Micah, who traces his finger along the side of the water tank before patting the top.

“Aquatic zombies,” he whispers forlornly. Logan isn’t entirely sure how Micah managed to weasel his way into an internship here, but he stopped questioning it a long time ago.

“It’s the moon, isn’t it?” Cassidy tries. This brings about a chaotic storm of argued disagreements through which Logan couldn’t possibly begin to sort.

“But the passenger was born on Mars, so it’s the Martian flag.”

“But their parents were of Earth, do we know where the passenger was conceived? Earthling parents mean it can’t be Mars’ flag.”

“Oh, like the Opportunity rover would plant a flag on Neptune.”

“Rip in pieces, Oppy.”

“Well, wouldn’t it be the country of origin of the mom, since she’s the one that had to carry the passenger to term?”

“That’s sexist, and we don’t know which parent is which.”

“It’s heretonormative, anyway.”

“You mean cisnormative.”

“I know what I meant to mean.”

“Unless you meant both. Trans father for the win.”

“Trans father, transformer, illuminati?”

“Does Earth even have a flag?”

“Where was the passenger raised? That might change the answer.”

The door opposite the stairs slams open as another intern with dirty blond hair and a beanie stumbles in looking particularly disheveled—well, more so than usual, at least.

“The passenger opened a wormhole immediately after being born, and raised themself on Neptune,” Logan deadpans. “Roman, if you haven’t got any good news, I swear to—”

“They cancelled the level eight project,” the man at the door says. Were it not for the bright gold name embroidered along the breast pocket of his shirt—Roman—Logan might believe him to be a random guy from off the street. “They figured out the missing sections—without our input, obviously—and decided the clearance rate was excessive. Basically, they said a toddler with a functioning search engine could crack it, so we should stop wasting our time.”

“Has the toddler ever been to Neptune?” Logan asks dryly. A hollow chorus of laughs ricochets around the room, quieted only by the click of the hour hand on the only analog clock hung on the wall. It must’ve been ages since Logan souped up the old thing to announce clockins, breaks, and clockouts.

“For the next hour,” Joy declares, “Neptune does not exist.”

“Seconded,” the other interns agree, putting their respective monitors to sleep and shuffling for the break room.

Roman lags behind to enter after Logan, prodding the small of his back and tilting his head toward the computers. He clears his throat meaningfully. Logan sighs, casting one last doleful look into the breakroom before joining Roman out on the floor again.

“They did want me to give you this,” Roman murmurs, “but keep it cazh.”

“Nothing is less ‘cazh’ than you shortening the word ‘casual’ like that,” Logan says, nonchalantly stretching an arm over his head. On the downswing, he takes the item from Roman’s hand and threads it between his fingers.

“I think I got the same deal, but don’t mention it, yeah?” Roman steps into the breakroom first, allowing Logan a moment to dawdle and inspect his acquisition. A flat disc, about the size of a well-used roll of scotch tape, with the NASA logo on both sides. Logan pinches the edges beside the first and last letter experimentally, and a USB plug pops out from the bottom of the logo. He pinches again, and it slides away. It looks for all the world like an overly expensive keychain one might find in a cheap museum. Logan shrugs, pockets it, and joins the others in the breakroom.

Only Roman appears to be in any semblance of a good mood—then again, he got clearance to visit the upper offices while everyone else pondered that stupid riddle. After teasing Roman about how he was probably about to get The Talk (the firing talk, that is) from the higher ups, it only took the rest of the floor about five minutes to give up on individual glory and try to solve the problem together. Obviously, it didn’t help.

“We could send someone for coffee,” Cassidy says. At least, Logan thinks that’s what she said. Her voice is a little muffled, what with how her face is pressed against the table.

“And get yelled at for prioritizing caffeine over the crappy cloud juice we’ve already got here?” Alex replies, tracing their finger over the glass front of the vending machine. Its only products are bottled water and expired heath candy bars. Four bucks a pop. “I’d rather dehydrate than take that kind of reprimanding.”

“I am literally going to commit multiple federal and moral crimes if I don’t get some real bean juice in my system in the next hour,” Joy grumbles. A true testament to her name.

Micah, apparently having moved on from the destruction of his aquatic zombie idea, springs to his feet from where he was sprawled across the floor. “We could use Logan’s app!”

This might be a good time to mention that, in padding his resume to apply for this extended internship, Logan made a brief foray into coding, which resulted in an app he dubbed ‘fetch quest.’ Basically a personalized coffee order service, more specialized than door dash, where instead of ordering food straight to your location, you put out a request for coffees—usually from Starbucks, Tim Hortons, Biggby, the like—to be delivered by the colloquially nicknamed fetch kids. Upon getting their coffee, the buyer reimburses the fetch kid for the coffee, as well as an obligatory tip so the fetch kid can turn a quick buck.

To tell the truth, Logan was genuinely too lazy to walk to the campus cafeteria for a coffee while working on homework, and paid his roommate five dollars to do it for him. (He paid in nickels, by the way.) So lazy was Logan, in fact, that he made an app to avoid ever dealing with the inconvenience again.

“I’m down for that,” Cassidy mumbles. “Who’s got the app? Seems kinda rude to do six separate orders, y’know, like ordering a different personal pizza from different locations and having them arrive at the same time, then fight to the death for the right to deliver their pizza first, so they miss the thirty minute limit and no one gets paid.”

“Okay, so Cassidy gets a decaf,” Alex says, swiping around on their phone. “Everyone just getting their usuals? Same as the last fetch quest?” Grunts of agreement are their only answer—aside from Roman, who peers over Alex’s shoulder to design an obscenely personalized drink.

“Pitch in a five dollar tip for the barista,” Logan calls. “I’ll cover it.” Roman perks up at that as Alex taps the appropriate button on their phone. Before he can ask, Logan nods, saying, “I’ll spot you the six dollars.”

“It’s actually closer to seven,” Roman admits, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I got a dairy substitute, don’t sue me. I’m broke, anyway, so it wouldn’t help if you won the suit.”

“This is a paid internship,” Joy points out.

Roman looks aghast. “You guys are getting paid?” It’s unclear whether he’s kidding.

“Order placed and transaction pending,” Alex announces, “so start up the charitable donation pool to my wallet.” Roman initiates the process, pulling the beanie off his head and carrying it around the room for everyone to toss their bills in. He can only manage a weak smile when Logan tosses in double what he ought to.

“Wait, Logan,” Micah says, “you didn’t get anything last time.”

“Shoot, yeah, what can I get you? No one’s picked it up yet,” Alex says, pulling the wads of bills from Roman’s hat.

“Just do a fetch kid’s delight, I guess. Price limit five.” Roman darts across the room to grab the proffered bill from Logan, attempting (and spectacularly failing) to parkour over the chair on his way back. The rickety plastic flies out from underneath him and his chin smacks the carpet as he goes down. Before anyone thinks about moving to help, he jumps to his feet and dusts off his knees, pretending as if nothing happened.

“It’s been accepted,” Alex announces.

“Maybe the trick is to work out whether the rocket, being from the moon, is the first to land, or if it has to be a life form in order to count for reaching Neptune first,” Joy suggests. Cassidy lifts her head to respond, thinks better of it, and drops her face back onto the table.

“That’s only assuming you give the rocket living rights to plant the flag,” Micah says.

“Did you guys consider the ramifications of the nationalities of each parent?” Roman asks.

“Yes,” everyone else groans in unison. Even Logan says it, now thoroughly annoyed by how much inconvenience Roman was able to skip in favor of retrieving a little flashdrive.

“Do we need to take into account the heritage of the parents?” Cassidy tries.

“It wasn’t included in the information backing up the question, and we’re only supposed to get an answer based on what we concretely know already,” Alex replies.

“We don’t concretely know already which flag they plant,” Logan offers, “so maybe the answer is that we aren’t supposed to have one.”

“That’s exactly what someone who knows the answer would say,” Joy mutters. This manner of conversation continues for another fifteen minutes or so, until someone knocks on the door at the top of the stairs.

“Liquid inspiration!” Roman shouts, vaulting over the empty chairs on his sprint for the door. As he swings it open to reveal a very familiar silhouette, Alex clicks a few times on their phone, finalizing the transaction upon receival.

Apart from the grey and red plaid scarf wrapped around his neck, Cadmium looks like he walked straight out of one of his own tours, down to the maroon cardigan and black skinny jeans. “Fetch quest fulfillment for Ally-oopsy-olly—”

“Yep, yes, that’s me,” Alex interrupts quickly, not letting him finish saying the username. They take a couple of the cups from Cadmium, stepping aside to let Joy and Micah help with the rest. Cadmium makes eye contact with Logan for a split second, inclines his chin, and turns to leave. He pulls out his phone, the screen angled enough for Logan to see the fetch quest home screen loading in more requests.

“Wait, we didn’t tip you,” Logan calls, surging past the other interns to catch up.

“Yeah, we did,” Alex says, “I put in your five, and I have my account set for an auto-gratuity of twenty—”

“Shut up , Alex,” Logan hisses over his shoulder. He turns to Cadmium, who looks somewhere between amused and bewildered. If he landed on Neptune, which emotion would touch down first? “Here y’are. Thanks.” Logan allows the last word to linger in the air, implying an unvoiced request for a name as he passes Cadmium a ten.

Cadmium glances from his phone—now proudly displaying a cheerful reimbursement and tip breakdown message—to the bill and back to his phone. He nods slowly, taking the ten and heading down the stairs. Logan blinks, watching him go.

“Wow,” Roman says, coming closer to rest his elbow on Logan’s shoulder. “You’ve got it bad, my guy.”

“Oh, shove off.”