#tyler and esme series

[chickensarentcheap]

Happy Six Sentence Sunday!

@bardic-tales

Just a little of dialogue between my OC Esme and canon character Nik Khan

“Nik, I’m shocked,  Absolutely stunned. Did you actually make a joke? A dirty one at that?”

“Esme…”

“Am I starting to rub off on you? Finally?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Nothing unfortunate about it.  I’m a delight. A simply wonderful influence.”

“You’re something, alright.”

My peeps: @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @watermeezer @tragiclyhip @kmc1989

@alisbackalleybbq @mrsmungus @asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar

I know I'm forgetting people...

[fanficanatic-tw]

{For @chickensarentcheap}

Happy Holidays and Happy New year ❤️

<Having the pleasure of reading some of Tyler and Esme's journey was a delight. I'm excited to read more and see where you take them ☺️>

Taglist: @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @darknightfrombeyond @foxesandmagic @eddysocs

[munstysmind]

It’s officially Christmas here in Australia!!

Merry Christmas @chickensarentcheap

I hope you like your @occreatorexchange gift for Tyler and Esme 🙂

[chickensarentcheap]

Alright, I had a lively and enjoyable conversation today with someone who feels Esme is just too 'pure and good' and 'girl next door' for someone as dark, rough and intimidating, and troubled and problematic as Tyler. They felt she was better suited with a Liam character we both love.

So I'm going to see what my peeps have to say:

My peeps: @watermeezer @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @kmc1989

@alisbackalleybbq @ninjasawakenedmystar @asirensrage @bardic-tales and anyone and everyone else of course

[chickensarentcheap]

Trying to wake the muse!

Excerpt from Best Part of Me

@tragiclyhip @mrsmungus @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @bardic-tales

@ninjasawakenedmystar @kmc1989 @alisbackalleybbq @asirensrage @residentdormouse

@watermeezer

I know there's more....

It's disheartening, to say the least; when you look in the mirror and no longer recognize yourself. He'd thought it would be different; the job and the horrors that often came with it turning him into a tougher person, not a weaker one. It doesn't matter how strong he appears on the outside; on the inside, he often feels weak and vulnerable and absolutely fucking hates it.

Even at an empty park, he can't fully relax. Eyes constantly scanning the treeline instead of concentrating solely on his children; attention diverted from them with each car or pedestrian that passes by. He despises it; the seemingly constant state of alertness. By now he'd thought it would be getting better; it's been six months since he's left the job. But it only seems to be getting worse.

Still, he toughens it out; planting a smile on his face as he tries his best to acknowledge every time one of the kids yells 'daddy look!'. Resisting the urge to constantly survey his surroundings.

He's sitting on one of the park benches -baby laying along his forearm as he feeds her from a bottle he'd brought with him from the car- when his namesake saunters over. Yawning loudly as he plops down beside him.; on his side with his legs tucked into his core, head resting on Tyler's thigh. A small, dirty hand reaching out to take hold of the bottle so his dad can drape his arm over him.

“What's up?” Tyler asks, as he rubs his son's shoulder. “Tired?”

TJ shrugs.

“You wanna talk about what's going on at school? Because what the fuck, mate?”

TJ looks up at him, grinning.

“Don't tell your mom I say that word around you guys, okay?”

“Okay,” TJ agrees, and once against rests his cheek on Tyler's leg.

“You can't do sh...things...like that at school. You can't do them anywhere. Not even at home. I know you get pissed off but you can't freak out like that. Throw chairs and desks and sh...stuff...like that. You just can't. You hear me?”

“I can't help it,” his son says. “I really can't.”

“What do you mean you can't? You know what you're doing, yeah? Well if you know what you're doing, you can help it. You've got to calm down. Take a breath when you feel like that. Ask the teacher to leave the room. We talked about this. More than once.”

“I can't help it,” TJ insists. “It just happens. I just get so mad. I get so mad and I just do things.”

“What makes you mad?”

“I don't know. Lots of stuff. When there's too much noise and I can't hear the teacher. When someone chews their food too loud. When someone says mean things. Not just me but to other people. Makes me want to punch them right in the face!”

“Well let's not go around punching people in the face, okay? You need to learn to calm yourself down. You can't act like that. Not at school, not at home, not anywhere. Do you see me throwing stuff around when I get mad?”

“No. You just yell a lot. And really loud too.”

“Okay, well that's not exactly the best way to handle things either,” Tyler admits. “I shouldn't yell like that. Especially not at your mom. And especially not at you guys. It's scary, yeah? When I yell?”

“A little,” TJ says. “It's a little scary.”

It hurts his heart to hear that; he remembers being a scared little boy hiding in his bedroom closet as his father went on rampages. But he never stopped at just yelling; he took things that extra step, using his fists and his feet and anything he could get his hands on to terrorize Tyler's mother. And eventually Tyler himself. And he swore he'd never be like that. That he would never, ever cause that same kind of torment.

“I hate my brain,” his son laments. “I hate how it works. It doesn't work right.”

Tyler sighs. He can understand that feeling; his own brain is a fucking disaster. He can't help but wonder if maybe some of this is his fault. If maybe he's always been messed up but it didn't surface until he was older. If maybe Austin's cancer and his abandonment of him had been what kick started the whole thing. And if maybe he's the reason why TJ is the way he is. That he's passed down some damaged gene that is causing his namesake the issues he's going through.

There it is. Guilt. It always finds him. Regardless of the situation.

“You'll fix it, right daddy?” TJ asks, those blue eyes full of tears as he looks up at him. “My brain? You'll fix it right?”

[chickensarentcheap]

Tiny sneak peek :)

I've got a busy couple days coming up so I'm trying to write as much as I can. Here's some Millie :)

@youflickedtooharddamnit @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @bardic-tales @mrsmungus

@kmc1989 @alisbackalleybbq @ninjasawakenedmystar @asirensrage @residentdormouse

“I really like this truck!” Millie enthuses from the back seat;  aggressively scratching at Lucy’s belly as the dog sprawls across her lap.  “It’s bigger than Uncle Duey’s!  And way cooler!  Totally bad ass!”

“That’s ‘cause I’m way cooler and bad ass.” Tyler reasons.

“I can look down at the people next to us. And spy on them! Give ‘em the finger if they deserve it!”

Esme casts a frown over her shoulder. “I don’t want you flipping anyone the bird, okay?”

“What if they don’t use their blinker? Or they keep riding up our ass?”

“Amelia…”

“There were a lot of bad drivers this morning!” The four-year-old gives an exasperated huff. “ People going too slow, people going too fast, people running the red, people cutting us off!  We flipped a lot of birds, didn’t we daddy?!”

“Oh, you did, did you?”  Esme shoots Tyler a smirk.  “Busy morning, huh?”

“And there was a lot of bad language!” Millie excitedly continues.  “I learned tons of new swears!”

[chickensarentcheap]

What love is. According to Addie :)

@tragiclyhip @watermeezer @bardic-tales @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid

@kmc1989 @mrsmungus @alisbackalleybbq

“I don’t know why people are mean to daddy. He’s nice. Just ‘cause he’s big and has muscles and scars and those pictures all over him…”

“Tattoos,” Esme chuckles. “They’re called tattoos.”

“...doesn’t mean HE’S mean. He’s never mean to us kids. Or to you.”

“ Why would he be mean? He loves us. VERY much.”

“You know how I know he loves you?”

“How?”

“He always touches you. Like if you walk past him, he always puts his hand on your back or on your shoulder. Or when you guys are talking, his eyes never leave your lips. He’s TOTALLY listening to what you’re saying. Sometimes, he pushes your hair behind your ears or he’ll run his fingers through it REALLY slowly. And when you guys walk on the beach or in town, he ALWAYS holds your hand or puts his arm around you. ALWAYS. And he kisses you. A lot.”

“You notice all of this?”

“I notice A LOT of things. I notice how his eyes sparkle. Like when you go into the gym or the office and he’s been in there awhile. He smiles and his eyes sparkle; like he hasn’t seen you in forever and he’s happy you’re there. He always makes sure you get your supper first; even if it means he’s running around getting things for us and his is cold in the end. And you know what else he does? If there’s only one piece of cake left? And neither of you got one? He ALWAYS insists you get it. THAT’S love. Letting someone have the last piece of cake.”

[chickensarentcheap]

I can’t sleep so I wrote a bit lol

@tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @watermeezer @bardic-tales @secretaryunpaid

@residentdormouse @asirensrage @ninjasawakenedmystar @kmc1989 @alisbackalleybbq

@mrsmungus

“You did awesome.” He praises. “I think you might be a natural.”

“Maybe I can be a pro when I grow up!” Millie enthuses. “That would be awesome!”

“Trust me kiddo, you can be whatever you want.”

Even from the next room she can hear the pride in his voice. And can easily picture him sitting on the edge of Millie’s bed; this enormous hands with their callouses and scars and mishaps knuckles patiently braiding her hair.

“Have to practice lots though!”

“That’s the great thing about living so close to the beach. We’ll be able to spend a lot of time there. And you’ll get to practice as much as you want. What do you think? Is your hair alright? Am I getting better at this?”

“Much better! They’re almost perfect!”

“Your mom’s been letting me practice on her hair. When you’re sleeping.”

“You’ll be a pro at something too!”

There’s a slight pause in the conversation; a slight rustling of sheets and the faint creaking of the springs in the mattress.

“Daddy? Guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you. Bunches. Tons of bunches.”

Silence.

Tears well in Esme’s eyes; a mixture of relief and gratitude and mixed with lingering pangs of guilt and regret.

“I love you.” Emotion chokes at him. “More than you’ll ever know.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Oldies but goodies. IMHO, anyway lol

@tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @watermeezer @bardic-tales

@ninjasawakenedmystar @mrsmungus @asirensrage @residentdormouse @kmc1989

@karimac @alisbackalleybbq

[chickensarentcheap]

Heads Up, 7 Up Tag

Thank you for the tag @bardic-tales! <3

Tagging to play: @watermeezer @littleshopofchaos @asirensrage @themaradwrites @mrsmungus

@megandaisy9

My peeps: @kmc1989 @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid

There's more than seven. LOL. To hell with the rules!

“Pink lemonade, huh?”

“Mixed with the normal kind.  That’s still your favourite, yeah?”

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember a lot of things.  I remember everything, actually.”

“Including adding something a little…extra.”

Grinning, he buckles his seat belt. then turns the key in the ignition. “Isn’t that what makes it your favourite? “Maybe….” She singsongs,  then takes a long pull from the straw; eyebrows arching when he turns his baseball cap backwards. “You’re evil.”

“Why’s that?”

“That was totally intentional.”

“What was?”

“The hat thing.  Don’t deny it; you knew what you were doing.”

“I like wearing it like this.” 

“You also know that I like it when you wear it that way.   That it  does funny things to my insides.”

“Funny things, huh? Tell you what…” Reaching for a pair of sunglasses that rest on the dash, he slips them onto his face.  “...later on? I’ll do the same to your insides.”

“I take it you’re not talking ‘funny haha’.”

“Nope. I’m talking about completely obliterating them.”

“Sure…right…”  Smirking, she takes a swig of her drink.  “...promises, promises.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Who laughs and kisses their partner on the cheek while their partner isn’t happy about something trivial to try and make them feel better?

 What is something small that they would randomly pick up for one another?

If they were to have matching pajamas, what would they be?

Who would win in a pillow fight?

They are grocery shopping and this turns into a race on who can get their half of the list completed faster. Who wins?

Who playfully hugs their partner from behind when they are cooking/prepping food?

Who would they love to go on a double date with?

What is their song? (I know but say anyway)

Do either of them have a crazy ex?

Who accidental sets something on fire?

That is definitely a move Tyler would employ lol. Her love language is touch (one of her languages, anyway) and he knows how to get her to crack a smile. Sometimes, it even gets her to lighten up about him tracking sand through the house ;)

Tyler would definitely pick her up some Australian wildflowers or some cupcakes. Esme would get him his favourite tae- out coffee or smoothie

They always do matching family jammies at Christmas. That is the only one he will go along with that kind of stuff lol.

Tyler for sure. His size and strength are no match for her, even in a pillow fight

Tyler because Esme browses too much and gets easily distracted with buying what they DON'T need

Esme loves to give him a smack on the butt and a snuggle from behind, and a pat on the tummy for good measure. He has been known to smack her ass on the way by or drop a kiss on the top of her head or even put her hair up for her.

I think they'd love to double date with Andy and Clover

Their song is Crazy Love by Van Morrison. They had a very small wedding and no reception, but did go with their guests for dinner afterwards. There was a guitar player/singer on the outdoor patio and Koen told him that Tyler and Esme had just gotten married. And that was the song the man chose for them. It stuck :)

Esme has a psychotic ex husband. On the other side of things, Mia (if we go with canon) is very stable, successful etc and she and Esme get along well.

Esme in the kitchen. No doubt about it. Likely because she's tried to cook something new while being overwhelmed with all the kiddos and noise

@watermeezer @bardic-tales @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @kmc1989

@mrsmungus @asirensrage @residentdormouse @alisbackalleybbq

[chickensarentcheap]

Who wraps their arms around their partner as they look them in the eyes and compliments them with a goofy smile?

Who loves saying ‘my wife’ or ‘my husband’ or ‘my spouse’?

 Who makes puns with numerous things that they find?

Who would sing a love song to the other in the car?

What do they say to one another before they go to sleep?

Who looks at the other person like they are their world when the other isn’t looking?

Who is in love with the other person’s laugh?

Who cracks open their beverage before handing it to their partner?

Who runs their thumb over the other person’s skin to comfort them?

Who knows the most obscure facts?

Who pulls the other closer while sleeping?

Who accidentally drinks too much caffeine and who has to deal with their partner bouncing off the walls?

What do they love about each other the most?

How do they comfort each other when they are helpless to do anything about the situation?

This is such a Tyler thing to do, especially if she's having a rough day or she's feeling pretty low about herself. Just pulling her into a tight hug or giving her a snuggle and either showering with genuine compliments or lightly and lovingly teasing her to get even the smallest smile out of her :)

2. Esme routinely calls him 'husband' when she's teasing him about something, but Tyler is one of those proud AF husbands that stands back and watches her charms people and lets everyone know that's his wife. And one of his nicknames for his (as you know) 'Pocket Wife' because of her tiny stature

3. Esme is definitely a lover of puns and will make one any chance she gets lol

4. Esme would definitely serenade him in the car. She's a passenger princess and in charge of the music, so she'd find something ;)

5. Other than the standard "I love yous"? Normally on her part it's 'get over to your side of the bed'. lol. Because she likes to be snuggled right up until she's ready to fall asleep, then requires some space. Because she says he's way too heavy to be draped all over her lol

6. Tyler. This is so him. Even the kids talk about he looks at their mom. Addie calls it 'heart eyes'

7. I think they both are, but Tyler doesn't let loose and laugh that often, so when she gets to hear it, it's a huge deal :(

8. Tyler. Always. Can of soda, bottle of water, doesn't matter. He's opening it before handing it to her.

9. Esme. This is actually one of the 'things' she does when attempting to calm him down when his anxiety is high or when he needs some kind of comfort, but doesn't want a big show being made of it.

10. Esme. Probably from hanging out with Tanner at the book store and listening to him ramble on. The kid is a fountain of information and looks up EVERYTHING

11. Tyler. He has this thing Esme calls 'the reach'. She can get up to go check on a kid or to the bathroom, and when she gets back into bed, he (without ever fully waking up) reaches out for her and pulls her tightly into him and drapes a leg over both of hers. Usually he buries his face in the nape of her neck for good measure. She's totally trapped after that lol

12. While Tyler tends to overdo it in the morning (for years his first coffee has included three shots of espresso lol), Esme tends to drink too much during the day and then he's left with her being even more hyper and chatty than usual. and that's saying something.

13. Esme loves that he's this huge man with an even bigger heart, He's compassionate and patient and gentle, but can quickly turn that off and become someone that protects her fiercely and would do anything to keep her safe. She also loves that he's an animal lover and will help and rescue anything that needs it.

Tyler loves that she's managed to hold onto that bright, lively, and cheerful spirit despite people trying to break her. And that she's such a great care-taker and nurturer; she's been by his side through a lot of horrible injuries and tough times and never once abandoned him.

14. Esme knows that sometimes comfort isn't what he wants or needs at the time, and instead knows that he needs to just walk away from a situation and clear his head. Whether that means he goes for a hike or a surf or to work out, she just lets it happen and is secure in the fact that he will turn himself around and be back. He's not going anywhere. And once he does return, she doesn't talk about what upset him or where he went and what he did. If he wants to talk about things, he will. She makes it his decision.

Tyler knows that Esme is all about physical touch and acts of service. So a long, tight hug or a snuggle, and a warm cup of tea. Sometimes even brushing her hair or stroking it. As long as he maintains physical contact, she will settle.

@watermeezer @bardic-tales @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @alisbackalleybbq

@asirensrage @residentdormouse @mrsmungus @kmc1989

[chickensarentcheap]

Six Sentence Saturday!

For Creators Club @bardic-tales ❤️

It's messy as heck, but at least I'm working on things lol

Tagging my Tyler/Esme peeps: @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @tragiclyhip @mrsmungus @watermeezer

And anyone and everyone else of course!

Turning towards Tyler as he approaches, she places a hand over her eyes. Shielding them from the sun as a smile curves her lips.

He presses the side of a rose gold Stanley cup against the side of her arm, then holds it out in offering. “Here.”

“Oh, I get one too, do I?” Esme teases.  “I was starting to think maybe you forget about me. Seeing as I’m not your favourite anymore.”

“Baby…” His hand finds her ass, palm smoothing over the curve of one cheek before settling on the small of her back. “...you’ll always be my favourite.”

She stands on her tiptoes as he leans down to kiss her;  fingertips brushing against his beard before cradling his cheek in her palm.   And she giggles into his mouth as the briefest of contact causes Millie to launch a protest from inside the truck.

“No! No! No! No making babies! Do it on your time, not mine!”

[chickensarentcheap]

I FOUND: THE MISSING PIECES

CHAPTER TWO

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake x Esme Drummond (OFC)

Summary: A collection of requested one and two shots that cover the CANON events mentioned in the original “I Found” story. It’s not a necessity to have read it, but it might help.

Author’s Note:

This is a companion piece to “I Found”. When I first wrote the story four years ago, I had every intention of including ‘flashback’ chapters that weaved Esme into the events of Extraction. Sadly, I lost my confidence at the time and ended the fic before I was one hundred percent ready to do so. Which I deeply regret. In the time that has passed, readers have requested both 'movie canon-centric’ pieces and those that cover events between Tyler and Esme that were merely mentioned.

Please keep in mind that the pieces are NOT in chronological order according to the movie timeline or Tyler and Esme’s persona timeline. Instead, they are written and posted in the order in which the readers submit their requests.

Thank you! I hope you enjoy.

Love, Chickens

WARNINGS: SLIGHT SMUT, PROFANITY, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC PHYSICAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE, MENTIONS OF CHILD DEATH

Tagging: @tragiclyhip, @watermeezer @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @kmc1989

@asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @alisbackalleybbq @karimac

@arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @munstysmind @fanficanatic-tw @ocappreciationtag @occommunity

****

WHERE: GASPAR'S SAFE HOUSE

“Tyler?”

He teeters on the edge of sleep, his body exhausted and aching; a dull, throbbing pain that seems to travel from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.  He feels as if he’s lived a lifetime in a matter of twenty-four hours;  his flesh littered with abrasions, bruises and gaping, hastily tended-to wounds.  The silence surrounding him a welcome reprieve from gunfire and mayhem;  temporarily tucked away in that quaint safe house on the city's outskirts.  

The booze and the pain meds have begun to take effect; a haze and warmth that lower both his guard and his inhibitions and soften the chaos and the incessant second-guessing that have plagued his mind for hours.    But her voice -quiet and apprehensive-  somehow manages to cut through the layers of inebriation and exhaustion.  And when he opens his eyes and glances towards the stairs, he discovers her standing on the middle landing; illuminated by the couch-side lamp and the glow of the light above the stove.

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay to come down there?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

He watches as she descends the remaining stairs and approaches, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floors. Her hair is loose and dishevelled from sleep; thick, dark tresses framing her face, tumbling over her shoulders, and spilling down her back.  Her tiny frame drowns in a man’s button-down shirt;  crisp and cool cotton in charcoal grey,  the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.  One of many offerings that Gaspar had left behind in a plastic bag on the kitchen table;  faded and tattered t-shirts and old jeans with holes in the knees and pockets and loose threads dangling from the cuffs.  With nothing appropriate for a woman -especially one of Esme’s petite stature- available, she’d been relegated to washing her original clothes by hand; tattered and stained by blood and now drying over a chair on the small back porch.

Despite the dim lighting, he can see how heavily body and spirit bear the toll of the day;  a slump to normally confident shoulders, a limp that replaces the normal bounce to her step. The sparkle of those dark eyes diminished;  now dull and lifeless from a potent mixture of exhaustion,  discomfort,  grief, and concern.   And when she stands in front of him, he can see the damage done to her pale, smooth skin;  a bruised and slightly swollen left cheek, a red and angry abrasion that mars her forehead and disappears into her hair,  and a small split to her bottom lip that appears sore and tender.

Yet, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

His hands find her hips as she steps between his splayed thighs. “You should be asleep.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“I’ve been resting my eyes. Here and there.”

“I damn near had a panic attack. I woke up and didn’t even remember coming here.  I didn’t recognize anything,  you were gone.  That’s what totally freaked me out.  I didn’t know where you went, and I thought maybe something bad happened and you had to leave us here or…”

“I’d never do that.   No one is getting left behind. Especially not you.”

“It just scared me.  Not knowing where I was.  Being disoriented and alone and…”

“I only left because I didn’t want to wake you up.  I couldn’t shut my brain off.  And if I’d stayed up there and just kept tossing and turning…”

She reaches out;  gentle fingertips exploring the bruises and wounds that litter his face.  “Are you feeling any better?”  

“A little.  The meds kicked in about ten minutes ago.”

She gently explores the cut above his right eyebrow and the abrasions on his cheek. “Did you take a lot?”

“I only took a couple.  Just to take the edge off.  Nowhere near enough to knock me on my ass.”

“I mean, I know it’s not any of my business; how many pills you take or how much booze you drink.  But…”

“We talked about this. A couple of days ago. About how it’s becoming your business.”   

 When their plans to travel together after the job in Dhaka had been made official,  they’d been accompanied by a conscious decision to turn his life around. Or at least attempt to.   There’s an optimism he clings to;  the belief that their immense attraction to one another will follow them into the ‘regular world’.   That it isn’t solely rooted in similar experiences and shared circumstances; their equally traumatic childhoods,  their time in the military and their failed marriages, the stress and the unpredictability of the ‘job’.    

 It’s the first time in years that he’s felt any sense of positivity regarding the direction of his life; finding himself no longer obsessed with wanting to catch a bullet or interested in drinking himself to death.  It would be the biggest mistake he’s ever made; turning his back on the second chance that lay before him.  And he’s determined to put the work in; wanting to clean himself up and give her the kind of man she wants, needs, and deserves .

“I worry about you.”  Pushing her hands into his hair, she allows the longer strands to slip through her fingers.  “I know you’re not to use that; someone giving a shit.”

He can’t remember the last time someone expressed any kind of concern in regards to his well-being.  While boldly -yet erroneously- calling herself a friend, Nik views him as both a nuisance and a commodity.  While none of the other mercenaries on her payroll come close to possessing the same level of skill and knowledge, his issues with drugs and alcohol often get in the way of her securing a client -and a mission- only he can conquer. Her friendship comes with a price;  relying heavily on his ability to keep himself alive and the cash rolling into her bank account.  And Mia had never been an affectionate or nurturing person;  lacking those traits long before their marriage had started to sour.  A byproduct of her career and upbringing, she’d always been rather cold and distant; expecting the man to be continuously ‘rock steady’ and admittedly ‘turned off’ by any show of softness or vulnerability.

His mother.   She’d been the only one who’d ever shown him that kind of care and concern.  Loving him unconditionally; with every breath she took and every punch and kick his father had rained down upon.  Continuously -and selflessly- putting herself…mind, body, and soul…in the direct path of his ire to keep her only child safe. Attempting to give him some semblance of a normal childhood despite all the bloody noses,  broken ribs,  split lips and trips to the emergency room.    It was the last time he’d ever felt loved;  the only person who allowed her to show and express emotion and experience moments of fear and weakness. 

Nearly three decades.  Since anyone has given a shit.  And it seems so foreign now; finding himself at the receiving end of even the smallest forms of affection.  

“It’s been a long time,” he admits.

“That’s not right,” she laments.  “That’s not right at all .”

Her hands continue to move through his hair; gently and repeatedly combing the dirty blond tresses.  He finds himself unable to take his eyes off her; transfixed by the tenderness that both touch and gaze possess.  The couch side lamp bathes her skin in a soft, almost ethereal glow;  highlighting the juxtaposition between the bruises and cuts that mar her flesh and the gentle smile that curves moist lips.  

 It takes his breath away;  her emotions -a mix of concern,  adoration, and lust-  written so plainly upon her face. He doesn’t deserve it; someone regarding him in such a manner, wanting and needing him to the depths and lengths she’s already shown.  And while part of him whispers to push her away and spare her the hurt that he’ll eventually cause,  an even louder and more persistent one screams at him to never let her go. 

A shiver travels through him as her nails lightly scrape along his scalp and down onto the nape of his neck; those small, delicate fingers dancing over his skin before deftly and easily manipulating the sore, tense muscles below them.  His eyes close; a sigh of both weariness and contentment escaping his lips as his head falls forehead and his brows rest against her.   It’s intimacy in its purest;  her touch soothing as he completely lowers his guard and allows himself a rare moment of vulnerability.   She won’t judge him for it;   won’t scoff, scold or mock upon discovery of a chink in his armour.    Not the type to view him as less of a man because of a show of weakness;  instead preferring to nurture the rarer, softer fragments that linger under his tattered edges and worn and weathered exterior.

When she gently tugs on his hair, he tips his head back and gazes up at her;  eyes riveted on hers as she affectionately strokes his ears and slowly traces the outer edges with the tips of her index fingers. It isn’t until she releases a sigh of her own and scraps her top teeth over her bottom lip that he physically reacts; his hands smoothing over the curve of her hips and down the sides of her thighs before slipping under the bottom of her shirt. He hears her sharp intake of breath when rough, calloused palms glide across soft, supple flesh. Sees the way her eyes darken when he traces a slow, methodical circle around her navel and gently tugs on the hoop that passes through it.  Feels both the shiver that passes through her and the goosebumps that invade her skin as his fingertips skim along the waistband of her simple cotton panties.

“This is wrong.”  Her voice trembles as she speaks. Barely above a whisper. “This is so, so, so wrong.”

“You could be saying  that about the last five days.” 

“I don’t mean that.  Us.  If there even is an us.”

His palms follow the curves and slopes of her ass and hips.  Finding himself amused by her disappointed pout when his hands slip out from under her shirt.   “I thought that was pretty obvious.” 

“I meant this. Here. Your friend’s place.” 

“If it makes you feel any better…”. His fingers tend to the buttons on the simple cotton garment. “…he doesn’t actually live here.  It’s a safe house.  He has no real ties to this place.”

“Always so rational.” 

Allowing the shirt to fall open, his hands once more find her hips;  fingers pressing into the supple flesh as he aggressively pulls her closer.  She heaves a shaky sigh and violently shudders when his lips press against her stomach;  her fingers burrowing in his hair as the tip of his tongue draws a lazy circle around her belly button and his teeth pull at the stainless steel hoop.   Her nails digging into his scalp when he presses a series of kisses along her abdomen;  slowly travelling from hip to the other, then stopping at the strip of lace that covers her pussy.  And nuzzling his nose against her, he can smell and feel the moisture that dampens the thin fabric. 

Her hands tighten their grip on his hair as he presses a line of warm, moist kisses across her waist; his mouth travelling slowly from hip to hip as his calloused fingertips drift over her ribcage.   It’s a power juxtaposition;  the softness of his lips paired with the roughness of his beard.   She’s overwhelmed by the things he manages to stir inside of her; a level and ferocity of want and need that no one else has brought to the plate.   On the good days, sex with Mark had been a chore; she merely tolerated it and certainly never initiated nor truly enjoyed it.  On the bad days, it was expected of her;  threatened and forced and punished -severely- if she had the nerve to say ‘no’ or push him away.   After the marriage fell apart, she’d sworn off all forms of sexual activity that involved a partner;  convinced she could happily live the rest of her life tending to things on her own. 

And then she wandered into the debilitated shack in the middle of the Australian outback.

A violent shiver travels the length of her body as his hands and mouth travel upwards.  Suckling and nipping at her collarbone while his palms cup her breasts;  a whimper escaping her lips when his thumbs brush against her nipples.  He reaches for her hair, his grip tight and unrelenting as he pulls her down into a kiss; his strength and power cause her to lose her balance and tumble into his lap. His hands aggressive and needy as they easily manipulate her much smaller and lighter frame;  settling her on his lap,  her knees on either side of him.

Both kisses and touch are rough and unapologetic. Bruising lips and duelling tongues as his hands dispose of remaining clothes and hers yank at shirt buttons and belt buckle and hurriedly open the clasp and zipper on his pants.  There’s no romance;  no extended foreplay, no whispers of adoration or praise, no tenderness or adoration.  And she audibly gasps when he pushes into her with one strong, fluid thrust;  her head falling backwards and her nails digging painfully into the bruises and cuts that mar the back of his neck and shoulders.  

He remains undeterred;  the pain is no match for the depth and the power of the want and need that take over every fibre of his being.  His mouth finds the hollow of her throat;  licking, sucking, and biting at the skin as his palms find the smooth curves of her ass.  Fingertips biting into the soft, supple flesh as he controls every movement.

****

They sit in silence; basking in the afterglow with her sideways on his lap and her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, both his arms wrapped around her. Her head on his shoulder; one hand resting on his side,  the fingers of the other repeatedly brushing the hair at the back of his head and the nape of his neck.  Clothes discarded earlier in haste gathered up and put back on; avoiding the awkwardness if Ovi awakens and wanders downstairs or Gaspar shows up unexpectedly.   His palm rests on the side of her left thigh;  fingertips repeatedly moving over the skin in slow, smooth circles.

“Tyler?”

He turns his face into hers, lips meeting her brow.  “Mmm?”

“Where should we head first? Where do you want to go the most?”

“What?”

“When we travel.  Once all this is over.  What should we put first on the list?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t really thought about it.  Wherever you want to go, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s it. Leave the hard work to me.   I’m terrible at making decisions. I’ll pick something now and by this time next week, I’ll have changed my mind a dozen times.”

“Why don’t we get the hard stuff out of the way? I know you’ve been freaking out about the idea of going back to Colorado and having me meet your folks.   If we do that first, you’ll be able to relax; have a good time when we go other places.”

“You know…” Esme presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “...sometimes you are wise.  So wise.”

“Are you saying I’m a dumb ass all the other times?”

She nuzzles the sensitive spot under his left ear with the tip of her nose. “Never.”

He’s getting used to it; her almost overwhelming need to give and receive affection.  She’s the first partner he’s had that’s been so needy in that respect, and decades of being touched starved has caused him to be standoffish at times;  unsure of how to react to her not being afraid to seek out physical contact.  But she’s patient and understanding and never takes initial resistance or hesitation as a personal slight.  After only five days, he’s both accepting and responding with much more comfort and ease; not realizing just how much he’s missed tenderness and affection.   And amidst all the chaos, unpredictability,  and fear of what’s to come,  her mere presence gives him a welcome escape.  The touch of her hands, the feel of her lips, and the smell of her hair somehow easing the weariness and the tension. Even if only temporarily.

“You don’t really want to go there, do you?”

“I want to see the mountains.  Go snowboarding.”

“You do realize we can  do those things without going near my family, right?”

“It was your idea.  To take me to meet them.”

“And now I realize what a shitty idea it is.  And no…”  Laying a hand on his cheek, she turns his face towards her. “...you are not the reason I don’t want to see them.  I mean, you are .  But not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“I’m not ashamed. Or embarrassed.  When it comes to how we met and how quickly things happened between us.   And it has nothing to do with who you are and what you do or…”

“Esme,  none of that shit crossed my mind.”

“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.  I know what they’re like; I’ve put up with their bullshit all my life.  They thrive on bullshit and drama. Especially my mother.  Why would I want to subject you to that ? You haven’t done anything to deserve that kind of punishment.”

“Haven’t you been waiting your entire life for someone to come along and put your mother in her place?  Well, the time’s come. Now’s your chance.”

“You have no idea what she can get like.  Just how awful she is.  She’s a miserable, evil bitch.  And I can only imagine what kind of shit is going to come out of her mouth. About you, about me…”

“I’m not your ex-husband.  I’m not the type that’s just going sit there and let it happen.  She steps out of line, I put her back in it.”

Smiling, she reaches up to brush the longer strands of hair off his forehead. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I would.  Someone’s got your back now.  And she should know it.”

“My hero,” she playfully croons, and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin.

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore.   I’ll let her know.  And I won’t be nice about it.”

“You really are a knight in shining armour.”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Knight in slightly tarnished armour?”

“I’ll let you have it.”

They lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence;  her head against his shoulder, the nails of one hand lightly and repeatedly brushing against his beard. His chin rests on the top of her head as calloused fingertips continue tracing random patterns on the side of her thigh and back of her knee.  And he’s once more on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; eyes flickering open, finding her staring up at him.  Those enormous dark eyes once more filled with concern, her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“Who?”

“Ovi.”

“We’re going to get him out of here.  Get him back where he belongs.”

“I mean after .  When this is over.  What happens when you do get him home?  His father’s in jail. There’s no one there to protect him.”

“ I haven’t stopped to think about that.  Yet.”

“Asif will never let him live. Think of the disgrace.  He isn’t going to give up, Tyler. He’ll go after him again.  And this time, things will end up so much worse.  It won’t be about money, or power, or influence.  Or disrespecting or embarrassing Mahajan.  It will be about revenge.  And you know what people like Asif are capable of.   They’re violent and depraved and the things he’ll do to Ovi…”

“This is why you couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“He’s just a kid.  He doesn’t deserve this.   And if there’s no one around to keep an eye on him…”

“What do you think we should do?  How would you handle it?”

“I don’t know.  But there has to be something, right? That we can do? That you can do?”

“Short of sticking around in Mumbai and keeping an eye on him until shit dies down…”

“Would that be something you’d be willing to do?”

“Would you? Be willing to do it?”

“I’m not sure,” Esme admits.  “It wouldn’t be the safest place, you know? We’d all have targets on our backs.  Hanging around,  just waiting for trouble to show up? Not my idea of a good time.”

“What else is there? What other options do we  have?”  

“We could bring him with us.  We could put off travelling. Spend some time hiding out somewhere. We could take him to your place;  lie low in the outback for a bit. Or we could go to Prague. Stay at my place; just until we know the coast is clear and that  Ovi will be safe back in Mumbai. It makes sense, right? For you to be the one to do it.  I know there wouldn’t  be any pay at the end of things, but…”

“It’s not about money. It stopped being about that hours ago.”

“I just think it makes sense; that we take him with us.  You can keep him safe.  He trusts you.  And I think that…”

“You know what I think?  I think it’s been a long day.  And I think you’re tired and overwhelmed and you need to try and turn your brain off.  Or at least quiet it down a bit. I know you’re neurotic as fuck sometimes, but…”

She grins.  “You already figured that out, huh?”

“Less than a day into knowing you.”

Scowling, she tugs playfully at the hair covering his chin. 

“Why don’t we just let it go for now; cross that bridge when we get to it.  Because it’s been a hell of a fucking twenty-four hours and my brain needs some peace and quiet.  And I know yours does too.”

“I just…”

“Not right now, okay? Let's try and get some sleep.  We need it.”

Nodding in agreement, she nestles her cheek against his shoulder. Several minutes passing before she gives a loud yawn and once more sits up/

“Esme…”  Tyler doesn’t open his eyes. “ I swear to God…”

“I have a lot on my mind, okay? It’s really noisy up in there. And I won’t be able to sleep until it quiets down a bit. Humour me? Please?” 

Sighing,  he opens his eyes and slides a palm to the back of her head; fingers pushing through her hair to gently massage her scalp. “What’s going on?”

“I need to ask you something.  And it might cross a line or two or trample on a couple of boundaries.   I know we haven’t known each other long and it’s kind of personal and you might want to tell me to mind my own fucking business, but  I’m just asking because I’ve been getting some really bad vibes and I’m nervous and worried and…”

He chuckles; her tendency to ramble when excited or nervous never crossing the line between amusing and insufferable. “Just take a breath, yeah?  It can’t be that bad.”

“It depends on what you consider bad. Or intrusive.”

“I think we’ve reached a point where nothing could be considered intrusive. Considering what’s been going on the last five days and just happened twenty minutes ago…”

“I’m only asking because I’m worried.  And a bit scared.  I…”

He squeezes the nape of her neck.  “Just ask.”

“How well do you know him?”

“I take it we’re not talking about Ovi this time.”

“Gaspar.  How close are you guys exactly?”

“We’re mates, I guess.  If we’re in the city, we’ll go out and grab something to eat, have a beer or two.”

“Would you say you’re solely ‘work buddies? That the only time you see him is if there’s a job involved?”

“Yeah, I’d say.  It’s not like we see each other regularly or we hang out when it’s our downtime.  I don’t exactly call or text him or shit like that, if that’s what you’re asking. Why…?”

“So you’re not friends friends. You don’t visit one another, you don’t know much about each other’s personal lives, you’re not on one another’s Christmas card list or…”

“I barely see the guy.   We’re work friends. Colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.  We won’t be visiting each other any time soon.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m being a huge bitch and personally attacking your friend or assuming bad things about him or…”

“Are you going to get to your original question sometime today or…?”

Taking a deep breath, she releases it slowly, then chews pensively on her bottom lip.   “Do you trust him?”

“He owes me his life.”

“That isn’t what I asked.  Do you trust him?”

“Honestly?  I’m not sure.”

She sighs.

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“I can’t shake this awful feeling that he’s up to no good.  Something just isn’t sitting right; the way Nik was so resistant when you told her to call him,  the way he looks at me like he wants to throw me to the wolves, the things he says…”

Tyler frowns.  “He talked to you? When? What did he say?”

“He didn’t confront me or anything like that.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue. “ And it’s not so much what he says, but how he says it.  He won’t even call me by name; when he’s talking to you he calls me ‘the girl’ or ‘that girl’.   That’s not a huge red flag to you?”

“Don’t take it personally. He’s always been a bit of an asshole.” 

“Something’s not right, Tyler.  And I know you’re feeling it, too.  Nik never would have put up such a fight about calling him if she wasn’t worried about something. ”

“I think everyone’s on edge.  We’re sore, we’re tired, we’re…”

“You just said you’re not sure if you trust him. So you’ve got the vibes, too. I know you do.”

“Whether I trust him or not,  this is our only option.   I have more control over things here than if we’re on the street, constantly looking for a place to hide out.  Do you trust me ?”

“With my life. You know I do.  But that doesn’t mean I can just ignore this.   The way I’m feeling.  Something is… off .  I can’t put my finger on what , but it is.  And the sooner things die down and we can get the hell out of here, the better.”

“If I start feeling worse about things…about him …I’ll get you and Ovi out of there.  I’ll figure something out;  find a place to lay low until Nik can get us out of here.  I won’t let anything happen to you.  And I will get you out of Dhaka.”

“Gotta get yourself out of here, too.  Remember our deal? Both of us or neither of us.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“You said you’d think about it.”

“I have thought about it.”

“And?”

“And I can’t make any promises.  Not when it comes to that.  You know how bad things can go. And how quickly it can happen.”

She scowls.  “That’s not an acceptable answer.”

“It’s the only one I have to give you.  Right now, anyway.  Are we done?  Did you get everything out of your head you needed to? Quiet things down a bit.”

“It’s a little better.”

“You’re safe, Esme.  Nothing can touch you here.  And if anything even tried…”

“I can’t pretend I feel good about this.  About him .”

“You don’t have to.  But for now?  Try and get some sleep.  It’s been a long fucking day.  And if you don’t settle down, shut your mouth, and close your eyes soon…”

“You’re such a sweet talker,”  she chides, and nuzzles the side of his neck with the tip of her nose.  “Let’s stay here a little bit longer.  Just like this.  I need it.  I need you .”

He obliges; wrapping both arms around her and pulling her even tighter against him.  Laying a palm on the back of her head, he draws it down onto his shoulder;  fingertips gently stroking her hair until her body relaxes against his. Her breathing softening and slowing as  she finally drifts off to sleep.

****

Despite succumbing to exhaustion, Tyler’s senses remain hypervigilant. Aware of the slightest change in temperature,  the softest of noises out on the street, every sigh and mutter Esme makes as she sleeps on the couch across the room, and each creak of a spring whenever she rolls over or adjusts her position.  His hearing is keen. Picking up on the rumble of an engine and the opening and shutting of a car door; a dog in the near distance barking at the intrusion.  

He senses the other man’s presence the moment he steps into the room; clocking the the shifting of floorboards beneath feet,  the rustling of a brown paper bag,  heavy, deep breathing, and a combined smell of cologne and perspiration.   He remains silent and motionless; not wanting Gaspar to be aware of his wakefulness.   The soft glow of the couch side lamp allows him to watch every move the taller, heavier man makes; his breath catching and his jaw clenching as Gaspar approaches the sofa.  

His hands curl into tight fists as Gaspar briefly observes a sleeping Esme,  then removes the throw from the back of the sofa;  draping it over and tucking it securely around her tiny body. Feeling both nausea and fury building inside of him when his old friend touches her; smoothing her hair away from her face and running a fingertip over the bruises on her left cheek and above her eye. And he isn’t entirely sure what he feels;  disgust, worry, rage.  Possessiveness, even.

 “What the fuck are you doing?”

Gaspar gives a small start, then an awkward chuckle as he turns away from the couch.  “You scared the shit out of me.  I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.  Now answer my question. What are you doing?”

“The windows are open. It gets chilly at night. I was just making sure she was warm.” 

His body aches as he stands.  A throbbing that seems to spread outwards from his bones; travelling from the roots of his hair to the tip of his toes. Reaching for the sling he’d discarded earlier, he winces as he pulls it over his head, gritting his teeth as he settles his injured arm into place.   Approaching the couch,  he places his body between it and Gaspar as he reaches down to wake her; grazing his knuckles along her swollen and bruised cheek. 

“Hey…”  Tyler softly jostles her shoulder.   “...Esme…”

Giving a loud yawn, she stretches languorously and turns her face towards him;  pressing her brow against his forearm.

 “Tyler…” 

It claws at his throat and heart; the way his name leaves her mouth so softly and tenderly.   It’s terrifying;  what should have been a ‘no strings attached’ arrangement quickly -and effortlessly- becoming so much more.   She’s the first person to attempt to get past the walls he’d built in the wake of his son’s death; effortlessly managing to burrow beneath the layers of guilt and grief and regret.  Breathing life back into him and making him feel again.

“Esme…”  His voice is louder, pushing past the last remaining veils of sleep. “...you need to get up.”

Rolling onto her side, she peers up at him, concern immediately furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong? Is there trouble? Do we need to leave? Do we…?”

“There’s nothing wrong.  No trouble.  Why don’t you go upstairs?”  Curling his fingers around her bicep, he guides her into a sit. “You’ll be more comfortable up there.”

“Okay,” she sleepily agrees, gathering the throw around her shoulders as he helps her to her feet.

Although Tyler notices Gaspar’s disgust when she briefly rests her forehead against his chest, he doesn’t hesitate;  placing his hands upon her shoulders and gently squeezing. “Try and get some more sleep.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“Alright.” Yawning once more, she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes; wrapping the throw around her as she shuffles through the living room and up the stairs.  

Both men remain silent.  Until they hear the squeak of the bedroom door as it closes, followed by her soft footfalls overhead.

“Now it’s my turn,” Gaspar speaks in a harsh whisper.  Shoulders tightly drawn, eyes narrowed in a mixture of anger and disgust. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You and that girl . And whatever the fuck is going on between you.”

“Esme.  Her name is Esme.   And whatever’s happening between us? That’s none of your business, mate.”

“You’re my friend. That makes it my business.  What is wrong with you?  This ? This latching onto someone. Practically throwing yourself at their feet.  It’s pathetic; watching you trip over yourself trying to get her to even look at you.”

“I’m getting it just fine.  Without having to do that.   And when have I ever had a job like this?  Working with someone? This isn’t normal for me.  She’s not normal.”

“It’s embarrassing; the way you are with her.  I saw it the second you walked in here; needing to be near her all the time, always finding ways to touch, batting your eyelashes at her every chance you get.  When did you get like this? When did you get so soft ?”

“Keep getting on my ass like this and you’ll find out who’s soft.”

“You need to get your head on straight.  You’re a mercenary, aren’t you Tyler? Then start acting like a mercenary.  Because this ? Her ? It’s wrong and you know it.”

“What’s going on with Esme and I has nothing to do with the job.  And nothing to do with you .  So if you don’t mind, mate, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about her.  Or go near her.  Just keep your distance. Because if I see you touching her again…”

“Get your shit together!” Gaspar snarls.  “You want to get out of here alive? Stop whatever is going on with that girl…”

“It’s too late for that.  To stop it.  So just back off and…”

“Don’t you understand that I’m worried about you?  That I see what’s happening? What she’s doing to you?  Are you that fucking blind that you don’t see it?  She’s using you, Tyler.  She’s lying and she’s manipulating and…”

“She’s not. She’s not doing any of that.”

“It’s what she does for a living.  Did you forget that?  Why she’s even involved in this job in the first place?  It’s who she is.  In the same way being a mercenary is who you are. She cons people for a living. And now she’s conning you . Because you’re her only chance of getting out of here alive.”

“That’s not what she’s doing.”

“Do you think she loves you?” Gaspar gives an incredulous laugh. “Is that what you think? That she sees you as some knight in shining armour that’s come along to sweep her off her feet?”

“You need to let this go, mate.  Because there’s nothing you can say or do…”

“This is what she does, Tyler; what she gets paid for.  She wanders into people's lives and turns them upside down. She lies and she uses and she…”

“That’s not who she is away from the job.”

“It’s exactly who she is. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“You don’t know her, Gaspar. You don’t…”

“And you do? It’s been what? A week? If that?  You think you know who she really is? That she isn’t using you and playing you the same way she has so many others? Why are being so fucking naive? Are you that lonely? That desperate? That you can’t see what’s going on?”

“You weren’t there.  Back in that hotel room.  You don’t know the things that happened or…”

“Oh, I know what happened.  You’re a red-blooded male, she’s an attractive woman.  It’s not hard to figure out.  And it must have been really damn good.  Bceause for you to be so naive and so fucking blind…”

“...or the things we talked about.  You need to let this go.  I don’t know what you’re trying to do or why you’re doing it…”

“She is going to ruin you, Tyler.  She is going to lie and manipulate and tell you everything you want to hear. She’s going to keep whoring herself out to you so…”

His fists clench. “I’m warning you, mate.  Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t talk about her at all .”

“Do you honestly believe someone like her would want someone like you?  That she doesn’t know what a mess you are? Look at her; she’s way out of your league and can do so much better,  Why would she want you ? All your baggage, all your bullshit. The pain meds and the booze and…”

“She knows I can change.  That I will change.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to run off with her? When all of this is over?  You’re going to get out of Dhaka and the two of you are going to live happily ever after? That’s bullshit and you know it.  Everything that comes out of her mouth is a lie; all the sweet nothings, all the pillow talk, all the promises.  And if you yanked your head out of your ass long enough to realize it…”

“I’m only going to tell you this once more.  It’s none of your business.  Don’t talk about her again. Don’t go near her. Don’t touch her. Don’t even look at her.”

“You’re in for hell of a rude awakening the second you leave here.  When you finally realize that everything she said…everything she did…was nothing but shit.  She’s using you, Tyler. Doing whatever she has to make sure she gets out of here. And when she does, she will leave you an even bigger mess than you were before.”

Smirking, he gives his head an incredulous shake. “We’re done here.”

Gaspar snatches him by the arm, preventing him from leaving. “This is going to blow up in your face.  And she’s going to leave you an even bigger mess than you already are.”

“Mind your own business, mate. That’s the last time I’m going to warn you.”

“Two broken people can not come together and make a whole. It doesn’t work that way.  You know what happens? In the end? They end up making each other worse.  They destroy everything.”

[chickensarentcheap]

It's CC'S TRIVIA TUESDAY!!!

@bardic-tales

My little submission for today's event is two fold:

I was going to include 'flash back' chapters that included how Tyler and Esme met and all the canon stuff from the first movie I worked her into. I'm not entirely sure why I changed my mind, but I regret not doing it to this very day.

Also, I had every intention to kill Esme off at the end of the first story, I Found. It was going to be a one-and-done, as I'd been on a decade long writing hiatus, and it was really just meant to be a chance to dip my toes in the water before deciding to make the 'big leap' back into things. But....

I discovered a joy for writing again. And meant some amazing people that really loved/love Tyler and Esme together. By the time I got halfway through the story, I realize just how much I loved the together as well. I just couldn't do it to them: I couldn't break my readers' hearts and I certainly couldn't break Tyler's. So it became a whole series :D

Tagging my Tyler/Esme folks and those who have supported me through it all despite not being remotely tied to the fandom: @tragiclyhip @watermeezer @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @alisbackalleybbq

@asirensrage @residentdormouse @mrsmungus @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @kmc1989

[chickensarentcheap]

It's Fun Fact Friday!

@bardic-tales @creators-club

I thought I'd share a handful of random little goodies. I hope that's okay :)

@tragiclyhip @mrsmungus @youflickedtooharddamnit @watermeezer @secretaryunpaid

@kmc1989 @ninjasawakenedmystar @asirensrage @residentdormouse @alisbackalleybbq

I know I'm forgetting people!

Esme was originally an OC that I created for Thor. While her personality was the same, she had an entirely different backstory and a connection to Tony Stark. The more I wrote things in the notebook dedicated to that fic, the more I fell out of love with the Marvel universe. I enjoyed writing Esme so much, that I totally revamped her backstory and brought her over to ship with Tyler.

2. I began writing Tyler and Esme before the first Extraction even had a release date. All that was known about Chris' character was his name, the fact he was ex-special forces and now a mercenary, and what he was going to look like in the film .

3. Esme was originally supposed to die at the end of the first fic. But there was such a positive reaction to her as a character and her and Tyler as a couple, that I decided to let her live and continue writing about them :)

4. I had considered giving them a boy as their first child (seeing as Tyler lost his son from his first marriage) and even had baby TJ in first chapter of the first fic. But as I edited it, I realized I'd made a mistake and decided to change it to a girl. That's when Millie came to be!

5. Esme was originally supposed to hook up with Alcott following her split from Tyler in 'Lost and Found'. The concept for the story was completely different: Esme and Alcott together, a child of their own and Millie still in picture, Esme hiring Tyler to get Alcott out of trouble, and then she and Tyler realizing there was still a lot of unfinished business between them. I never did decide if they would have gotten back together or if she would have stayed with Alcott.