#wither way she kinda struggled with that loss a lot and i need to put my blorbo through pain

[des-no9]

Saga Lavellan,,,,,,,she's sad and tired

and my rook lol idk what is going on here. wee goth girl vibe. but meet Binnie. is a shadow dragon but desperately wants to be a mourn watcher hashtag goals or something.

[prosaicswirl]

Day 13 of @short-story-slam! Only one more day left??!? Anyways, today, I go back to my fluff romance roots, with this oneshot, and... yea wow, I’m a little outta practice, huh? This is a teen romance (kinda, you’ll see) that mainly deals with being oblivious to the kinda obvious flirting and the confession afterwards. (~1.7k words)

Warnings: Pining (Kinda mutual? not really?), Unresolved ending.

“Hey! Hey, do you need help? Can you get out by yourself?”

There was no response, and there was no attempt to reach for the flutter board I threw to him.

“Hey, Dana, I need you to stay here, I’m going in!”

I jumped in, grimacing at the cold water before making it to where he was thrashing around. The rescue tube was behind me, though a quick tug on the string brought it to my front, and I swam beside him, making sure to wrap the tube around him as I did.

“Hey, try to stay still, I’m here to help,” I was breathing hard, but at least with him in the tube, I wasn’t directly carrying his fat ass. As I started to swim back to the exit point, I had to go through the mandatory questions. “What happened?”

“Aw, shucks, ma’am,” he chuckled, enjoying the easy ride. He even dared turn and stick his tongue out at me. “I’m afraid I’m just real dumb. I don’t know how to swim, but gosh darn, when my brother told me to jump in on this side, I did it!”

I have a harsher tug as I reached the wall, and enjoyed watching him get jostled a little. “Can you get out by yourself? Or do you need—”

“I think I’m gonna need some help, I’m still a little shocked as to how everything happened, you know?”

With the most withering glare I could manage, I had Dana come and pin down his arms while I climbed out, and all but rolled away from the edge before going back to help. We were both smaller than him, but we managed. It didn’t help that Revan was giggling the entire time as we struggled with him. Whoever thought it would be to put Revan and Dana in the same group was an idiot. Still, we had a recert to finish.

“Alright, Group Five is done!”

I walked on numb legs over to where our examiner was waiting.

“Overall,” she looked down at her notes, flipping through a few pages, “it was very well done. The only thing I would ask you guys to fix was the time between the first guard entering the water and getting him out. BUT I know—” Too late, both Dana and I were glaring at Revan, who must’ve planned this all along considering how much he was laughing – “the size difference played a difference between both of you. Still, there will be guys heavier than Revan, and you and Dana are often shifted together.”

“Alright, thanks,” I managed to say, and we walked off.

“I don’t weight that much, do I?” Revan kept in pace with me, leaning down with those sparkling eyes that too often that not promised mischief. “C’mon, I’ve been working out!”

“I realized when you didn’t float.” My flat voice caused another giggling fit from him, and I just shoved him into the nearest pool, getting one of the lifeguards from the next group to whistle and tell me off.

Eventually, after I had enough of chasing him around with a pool noodle, and the current guards were tired of telling us to clam down, I finally managed to snag the hippo mat and was seated quite comfortably. Revan was making it up to me and towing the mat around the pool as we watched the next situation.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said, breaking the silence as we judged the new guards.

I turned to see his elbows on my mat, and I slowly raised my eyebrows, causing him to slide off again with a small smile. “It’s not like I told you to ditch the Friday shift.” I laid down on the mat so we were at the same eye-level.

“I know, but I needed a supervisor shift, and you have a pretty tight hold on the Friday one.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t want me to supervise?”

“I’d rather you be in the water with me.”

And that dame sparkle should’ve given it away, but it didn’t process in my mind. With a few mighty kicks, he over turned the mat, and wrapped his arms around me. Between the two of us, my lighter skin stood out against his much darker brown, which, really, made the rescue a little easier.

It was just like Revan not to tell me that we were supposed to be a victim pair pull a stunt like that. Still, I trusted him, so no harm done.

“Need a ride home?” he asked.

“Nope, I drove today as well. I came here straight from school.”

“Oh?” he paused halfway through pulling his shirt on so they stayed stretched out, but not blocking his chest. “Was it school, or school?”

“I broke up with him,” I shrugged, and watched him as he let go too early of his hsirt and get his head and arms lost in the shirt. He gave a muffled plea for help, but I took my time tying my shoelaces first.

“God,” he stumbled against the lockers, and ended up leaning there to get his shoes on. “I thought things were going on fine?”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “But he’s been getting super clingy recently since it’s our last month at school before uni. He already calls everyday, and even though I told him I’m not ok with it, he keeps insisting, and I just got tired and snapped.”

I sat on the bench while he got the last of his things ready. “Well, you wanna talk more?”

“Online?” I raised a brow. “I assumed you’d be going to the gym or something.”

“Nah, let’s play some games. I’m tired,” I glared at him and he shot back a smile. “Plus, you can fit my bike in your car.”

By the time we actually left the office, him having to stay behind to lock up, the stars were already out, though slightly diminished by the street lamps in the parking lot. There was a cool breeze, and I watched the leaves start to fall, causing me to shiver.

“Cold?” he teased.

“Never.” Still, he wrapped one arm around me and led his bike to the trunk. And all the way, he kept it there, until he physically couldn’t anymore.

Once we were in, there was the ceremonial period of silence, where the first one with their phones out got to connect to the Bluetooth. “Mine today,” he murmured, setting his phone in the cup holder and taking mine out of my hand.

I stuck my tongue out at him, just earning that smile of his again. “You’re the worst.

“Nah, you still love me anyways.”

“Keep this up, and I might not…”

“Maybe.” For someone who asked about it, he sure didn’t seem keen on quizzing me about my ex.

Turns out, he had something else in mind, but waited until I was in front of his house before saying anything. “Look, I’m happy you left him. You two didn’t seem like a good match. Everyone at the pool said it too.”

“Yeah, I see it now,” I scoffed, reaching for my phone. He stopped my hand thought, holding onto my wrist. “Revan, it’s late and I want to go home.”

“I know, but…” he swallowed before even looking me in the eye. “I like you, and I think I’d be a better match.”

We both just stared at each other. I didn’t know what to say, and he was waiting for an answer.

“Maybe.”

His brows dipped and wrinkles appeared on his forehead. “Maybe?”

“We make good friends…” I twisted my hand so our fingers were laced together.

“Yes…”

“We work together…”

“Yes…”

“We’re even going to the same school this fall…”

“I know.”

“But you’ve never been in a relationship before…”

“No…”

“So you have no experience…”

“No…”

“And we aren’t perfect together…”

“We aren’t?”

I ignored that. “So, overall, a maybe.”

He blinked once… twice. “I’ll take that for now then. Hope to catch you online.” He then stepped out and onto the sidewalk.

“Hold on,” why does this sound so cliché? He looked so hopeful, but… but I couldn’t… “Your bike.”

“Right.”

I started lifting up the trunk, and he stood behind me, purposefully taking the bike out in a way that would keep me there. Funny. The first time we did this, I remember him struggling with the bike and the sheer distance he had to lift it. That had changed this past year though, and… Huh.

“Did you start going to the gym to impress me?” I sat on the edge of the trunk, and he stayed in front of me.

“Well, I was pretty unhealthy, but I guess you were a big motivation for me, even when I got super tired of it.”

“The supervising shift on Friday…”

“I technically had seniority, and I knew it was a toss-up between you and me, so I chose to be taken off so there’d be no conflict. Either way, one of us was going to get Friday and the other, Saturday. I just know you prefer Sundays.”

“And that night?”

The night where we sat on the swing set until three in the morning just because he called me and I happened to be crying. I still remember the unfamiliar sweater on my shoulders, carrying that familiar scent. And the sound of shoes on gravel, oh how thankful I was that they covered up my sniffling. Then, when I was finally done and better, I remember how warm his hands were when they led me home.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I know you loved your grandmother, and I just needed to be there for you.”

“Does that tilt the answer towards yes?” I asked, reaching for his hand. He gladly gave it to me so I could sap his warmth again.

“Only if you say so. I don’t mind, you know? I’m happy being your friend, and I’d be happy as your boyfriend. My happiness is on you being in my life, not our relationship status.”

I pressed my lips against his knuckles and let go.

“Let’s go for lunch tomorrow. I still owe you a pizza from last time,” I offered. He smiled and nodded. Then he left. 

[thatrandompoet]

I'm just here to feel sorry for myself privately in public.

I'd be better off dead.

Everything has fallen apart this year JUST as it was coming together. The universe saw the progress I had made, we had made, and decided I needed to be reminded that I'm not allowed happiness or contentment.

Everything I've worked towards over the past 5 years blew away like half the population at the end of Infinity War.

Look, I get it. I know that everyone has hurdles in life. Some people give up or break and never recover. Some people overcome and thrive. But there must be other people like me who get knocked down over and over and over and....you get the point. Persevering but never succeeding. But I don't know anyone like that personally. Just me.

People see it. They tell me how strong I am, how I'm their rock, how good things will come to me because I deserve them.

Being deserving has no bearing on your lot in life.

Today I'm broken. Infertility has dealt a blow that has left me gasping and thinking I should just stay down, play dead, anything to make it stop.

I look around for hope, even just a sliver, a crumb, but my stash is depleted, barren, just like me.

I go to work each night and sit in my thoughts and in pain and mostly alone. I talk about trivial things with people who might care but not enough to help, just enough to be sad for a moment then move on.

I almost got a promotion in March but due to budget cuts they terminated the position while I was in the last phase of the interview process. I was told to reapply but when the position was available again I had strep so they moved on to the next person.

Then my husband git fired. We had to pull out his 401k to pay the bills and it's been almost 2 months and he still hasn't landed a job. He's trying but I think he could do more.

One sister in law gave birth to twins last month. Another sister in law is being induced today. Both of my closest friends are pregnant. I finally got the green light from my doctor for us to start trying again but the husband is so discouraged about the job situation that things aren't working. We just missed a fertile window and he just says "I wasn't in the mood idk"

The last three times I've been to see a doctor they've mentioned weight loss surgery because all the weight I lost through diet and exercise last year has found its way back. But my shitty health insurance that I really can't afford doesn't cover weight loss surgery.

I have been dreaming about dead babies. Mother's day is always difficult for me now. If I hadn't lost any of my pregnancies I'd have a 9 yr old, a 6 yr old, and 6 month old.

I've been working really hard on my credit score and I got behind on my student loans and it tanked my credit score. It's slowly climbing back up but it means we will be living in a deteriorating single wide even longer.

I miss my friends but they are too busy with their families. I miss my family but they are too busy with their families or careers.

Ever since I didn't get the promotion, I've been putting in job applications. Not even a call yet. No email. Nothing.

In February it was discovered that I have a genetic mutation called a translocation that is a significant reason for our infertility. Genetic. There is literally nothing we can do about it because my DNA is fucked up. All of my eggs carry the fucked up DNA but if we are lucky egg and sperm might combine in just the right way that is compatible with life.

But I also have hypothyroidism so that's why for the past ten years I've had at least three miscarriages. I'm finally on the right dosage but it took like a year and my hair got thinner and my nails got brittle. Sounds like trivial things but those were the two things about my appearance that were complimented most. Hopefully my hair thickens back up. My nails seem to be stronger.

My grandmother forgot my birthday for the first time. I cried pretty hard.

Also I turned 30 last month.

All of my siblings (all younger than me) are doing well. Better than me. I feel judged all the time. Probably just me but still.

And of course there is the unending struggle with depression and PTSD. The cherries on top of the shitty sundae that is my fucking life.

I.am.exhausted.

I really truly want to give up. Not go to work anymore. Not answer the phone. Stop paying the bills. Just lay in bed and wither away.

Just give up.

That's where I am today.

P.S. on mothers day I posted on Facebook a happy mothers day message and tagged all the moms and preggos I'm close to and the only ones to acknowledge were my mother in law and one friend. Which kinda stings because I'd honestly rather ignore the day altogether but I reached deep down and made that post anyway.

My little sister did call to check on me. The one friend did send me a text that she was thinking about me.

P.P.S. I have been having dramatically more frequent migraines suddenly. Like....back to back migraine days and more migraine days than not. That all by itself is depressing. Migraines wipe.me the fuck out. But I can't call out of work because I'm the only one earning and I will never get promoted if I miss any work. Like I was regularly getting them one or two every two weeks. This is so much more. I need to see my neuro but i.cant.afford.it. but my migraine med prescription is about to run out so Fuck Me.

[terrayoung]

A Delicate Balance

A @dctvsecretsanta fic for @drnathanielheywood, who asked for: team legends stealing Christmas presents through time and Nate/Mick. It’s in Nate’s 2nd person p.o.v.

Fic is under the cut - I hope you enjoy!

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaaassssseeee?" Ray asks, holding out a bowl full of paper slips. "Wally and Mick already agreed - though Mick might've just done it to get me to leave him alone - and I'm sure the others will, too!" He widens his eyes. "I'd really appreciate it! Secret Santa is just the kind of bonding activity we need right now!"

You sigh. Damn those puppy-dog eyes. "Okay, fine. But you owe me an Indiana Jones marathon. And I mean all the movies - even Crystal Skull."

"That's fair."

Ray thrusts the bowl even closer to you. You close your eyes, pray that you get someone easy to shop for, and rummage around in the bowl for your lucky slip. Fingers on your free hand crossed, you unfold the paper. In scrawled black writing is two words and an emoji, "Mick Rory :)". Ray's looking at you expectantly, so you force a smile on your face.

"Didn't get myself, buddy, so I guess that's good," you say. 

"Yep!" Ray beams. "Oh, and before I forget - Mick suggested being able to steal the gifts. Long as you don't take it/them from the less fortunate, it's fair game." He pulls you into a brief, one-armed hug. "Thanks, Nate!"

You watch as Ray leaves your room, then finally let the smile slip off your face. "What the fuck do I do now? Um, Gideon?"

"Yes, Dr. Heywood?" Gideon asks.

"Any ideas on what I could get Mick for the Secret Santa?"

"I'm afraid Dr. Palmer requested that I not give anyone advice about their giftees." She almost sounds regretful. "He said it would be considered cheating."

"Gee, thanks a lot," you mutter.

"You're welcome!"

"Damn AI."

"I heard that," Gideon warns. 

You throw up your hands in frustration and flop onto your bed. After a few seconds, you roll over so you can scream into a pillow. You roll over again a few seconds after that since the lack of oxygen is getting to your head. 

What on Earth could you possibly get - or steal - for Mick? You put too little effort into this and he'll burn you to a crisp, but putting too much effort in would be like a neon sign telling him about your crush. Anything fire-related is too obvious and you know nothing about what he'd need for crime. It's probably too soon to give Mick a new rat and he could just fabricate himself some beer. What does he even like to do?

...Wait. You vaguely remember Mick being super gung-ho about vampires - he was even reading a special edition copy of Dracula. Maybe that's something you can work with. 

 XxXx

  You knock on Sara's door the next day. It takes a few seconds for her to open it, by which point you're already rocking back and forth on your heels. 

"Can I help you?" Sara asks, rubbing at her eyes. 

You nod. "Mind if I borrow the jump ship for a few hours? I think I know what to get my Secret Santa."

"Promise to never wake me up at..." She grabs your wrist, drags it towards her, and checks the time on your watch. "At 6AM ever again?"

"What if there's a life-threatening emergency?"

"If it's before 9AM, I don't care."

"Then, yes, I promise," you say, giving Sara a mock solute.

Sara releases your wrist and waves you away. "Fine. Go. Have fun shopping or stealing or what-the-fuck-ever. I'm going back to sleep."

"Sleep -" You're cut off by Sara sliding the door shut on you- "well." You run a hand through your hair. "Next stop, late nineteenth century." A few steps towards the jump ship remind you that you're still wearing your slippers. "After a trip to the fabrication room."

 XxXx

 You're barely out of the fabrication room - and still trying to fix your tie - when you run into Mick. Literally. Your forehead slams right into his chin. You stumble back, clutching your head, while he just stands there like a brick wall. A very well-muscled brick wall...

You shake your head - causing it to ache some more - to get your brain back on track. Mick raises an eyebrow. 

"You okay there, Pretty?" Mick asks. His gravelly voice rattles through your bones. "Sounded like you hit me pretty hard."

You rub your forehead one last time, then let your arm drop. "Think I'm gonna have one hell of a headache, but I'll live. How are you not in any pain?"

"I am." Mick shrugs. "But I've lived through worse." He stops, stares at your chest, and then rolls his eyes. You have two seconds to blink before Mick's closer than you'd ever hoped he'd get. 

"Umm, Mick?" You'll swear on every bible in the country that your voice didn't just crack. "What's goin' on?"

"Fixing your stupid tie," Mick mutters. 

There's a spark each time his hands brush against your chest. Mick's face is so close to yours and it takes every bit of your willpower to not lean in for a kiss. You don't even realize that you were holding your breath until Mick steps back and it all rushes out of you. 

Mick smirks, proud of his handiwork. "There ya go." He looks you up and down. "Where're you going? Didn't think we had a mission today."

"We - we don't," you reply. "I'm going to go get my Secret Santa's gift." You run a hand through your hair. "No idea how Ray managed to convince all of us to do that, by the way."

Mick just grunts and shrugs. 

"Anyway, um, I'm going to go do that -" you gesture vaguely in the direction of the jump ship -"and I'll see you later?"

"...Sure." Mick steps around you and heads down the hallway. He calls over his shoulder, "Long as you don't get yourself killed."

You're not sure if Mick thinks you're likely to, or if this is his own way of showing concern. It's been a couple of years since you met him and you're no closer to having him figured out. Luckily, you've always been a fan of mysteries. Not as much as histories, but -

You shake your head. Now is really not the time for your train of thought to run off the tracks. You give yourself a few seconds to remember Mick's closeness, then return to heading off to the jump ship. You've got a gift to track down. 

 XxXx

 "Why couldn't this have been a normal trip to Ye Olde Bookshoppe?" You mutter. "Oh, wait, normal flew out the window once I stepped onboard a freaking timeship!" 

"Be quiet!" Van Helsing - Abigail Van Helsing - hisses. "Unless you want the vampire to get us!" 

You hold up your hands, then mime zipping your mouth shut. Van Helsing just frowns before turning to look out of the alleyway. 

You'd started out going to buy an original copy of Dracula for Mick, planning on getting it signed by Bram Stoker himself. But then a fucking vampire had literally crashed the party! Then Van Helsing followed it through, announced she would take care of the beast, and then chased after it. You'd declared your intention to help, and well, here you are now. Somewhere in the middle you've managed to figure out that Dracula was loosely based on a true story. Very loosely, if Van Helsing being named Abigail instead of Abraham and the vampire not having much in the way of sentience are any indication. 

"It's coming," Van Helsing whispers. "You distract it with your "powers"-" how is she able to sound like she's miming air quotes a century before they were a thing?- "and then I'll stab it in the chest. Is that understood?" 

You nod, then steel up. Van Helsing's eyes widen. As soon as you hear the vampire scuffle past, you step out of the alleyway. The sun gleams off of your silver skin and attracts the vampire's attention. You slowly back away to lure it closer and closer to Van Helsing. Once you've moved far enough, you give her a thumbs-up. 

Van Helsing may not recognize the gesture, but she knows a signal when she sees one and jumps towards the vampire. There's a bit of a struggle - most of which is on the vampire's end - and then it's over as soon as it began. Van Helsing brushes the dust off her knife. 

"Thank you," Van Helsing says after a moment. "That would have been a lot more difficult without your help."

You shrug before de-steeling. "No problem. Mind if I ask you a question?"

"I suppose I owe you that much. What is it?"

"Do you know where I could find Bram Stoker?" You hold up the now slightly battered copy of Dracula. "I've got a book for him to sign."

 XxXx

 Bram Stoker looks from you, to Dracula, and then back to you. "You want me to write a dedication to someone I've never even heard of?"

"Yes, please," you answer. "He's a huge fan - uh, admirer - of your writing, and would greatly appreciate your signing the book. I'm planning on giving it to him for Christmas."

"A rare thing for two unrelated men to do," Stoker replies, "but not an unappreciated one. What is your young man's name?"

"He's not young - or mine - but -" You take a breath- "Mick Rory."

Stoker nods. He thinks for a moment, dips his pen in an inkwell, and jots down a few words. "Here you go, Dr. Heywood." Stoker pushes the book back to you. "I hope Mr. Rory takes to this gift."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stoker!" You barely glance at the dedication before snapping the book shut. "I have to get going, but it was very nice to meet you!"

"Same to you."

 XxXx

 The next person you literally run into is Zari, as you're exiting the jump ship. It affects her more than you, but neither of you get too hurt. Which is great - you still have a lingering headache from your encounter with Mick. 

"Thanks for that," Zari snarks. "Long as you're here, though - any ideas on what to get Hunter? I've only met the man twice, so I'm kinda at a loss."

You snort. "That's a first." You sober up at Zari's withering glare. "Um, I didn't really know 'im too well either. Think I remember someone mentioning he's really into Wild West stuff? That and antiques."

"So shop for you, but lean towards cowboy crap," Zari summarizes. "Got it." She gestures to the jump ship. "Just leaving or just returning?"

"Returning." You step out of Zari's way. "Go right ahead." Before she can get too far, you hold up Dracula and add, "For Mick - what do you think? It's an original copy and it's signed."

Zari shrugs. "He should like it. May even get you that kiss you want."

"Kiss? Why would I want a -" You slump. "How'd you know?"

"You're nowhere near as subtle as you think you are," Zari answers. "Surprised he hasn't noticed - I'm aromantic and I picked up on it ages ago." She hangs in the doorway. "Good luck, though."

"Thank -" Zari shuts the door- "you." You run a hand through your hair. "Why does that keep happening to me?"

 XxXx

 Ray knocks on your door just as you're putting stuffing the last of the tissue paper into the bag containing Mick's gift. You tell him to let himself in, then scribble a note on the to/from sticker. Hopefully your handwriting isn't too distinctive. 

You sit up, expecting Ray to start info-dumping about some new science fact or his latest project, but he's pacing silently instead. It takes about five minutes for concern to override just letting him be. 

"Uh, Ray?" You begin. "You okay there, buddy?"

Ray hesitates before shaking his head. He then leans against the closest wall. 

"What's up? Do you need some paper to write on?"

"Nah," Ray answers. "Just figuring out what to say - I'm not non-verbal atm." He sighs. "Um, I already got my Secret Santa's gift, but... ButIwasthinkingofgettingNoraagifttoo."

You stand up and rest a hand on Ray's shoulder. "I'm totally here for you, but would you mind repeating that for me? My ears can't process your words when you're speaking at a hundred miles an hour."

"Sorry. I said I was thinking of getting Nora a gift, too," Ray confesses. "But I don't know where she is, how to get it to her if I did, or if she even celebrates Christmas. Or how she'd react." Ray smiles sheepishly. "Y'know, with her being a former bad guy and all."

"Yeah, I had the same problem with Mick."

Ray jerks his head up so quickly, you fling your hand out in shock. You can feel a blush spreading across your cheeks.

"Okay, if you agree to ignore the implications there, I'll agree to ignore you implying that you still have a thing for Nora," you say. 

"Fine by me." Ray smiles. "For what it's worth, I think Mick likes you back. I mean, he does call you "Pretty"."

You shrug. "Thinking I'm hot doesn't equal feelings, but thanks. And good luck with Nora. I don't think she's the best person to crush on, but you do you, Ray." You smirk. "Or her." Ray jokingly punches you in the arm. "Hey!" 

"So, assuming I find Nora, you think I should get her something?" Ray asks. 

"Yeah, man. You could always pass it off as a "just because" gift if she's not a Christmas person." 

Ray pulls you into a brief hug. "Thank you for the advice and friendly ear." 

"No problemo."

Ray shakes his head, still smiling, and exits your room. He gives you a wave as the door closes.

 XxXx 

 A few days later, it's finally the moment of truth. Or to put it less dramatically - the day you all exchange your Secret Santa gifts. The result of you shoving in the tissue paper is a bag that's a little messy and half-hazard looking, but you feel it's appropriate. There's more to it than its rough exterior - just like Mick. 

You're the first one on the bridge. You place your gift by the center console and then pour yourself a drink. Maybe it'll help calm your nerves. 

"Great idea, Pretty." Mick's rumbling voice makes you jump - you hadn't heard him approach. Thankfully the glass didn't spill any more than a couple of drops. Mick brushes past you to pour himself... something. You're too busy trying not to shudder from that brief moment of contact. 

"Hey, um, Mick," you finally reply. "Have any trouble finding a gift?"

Mick shrugs. "Wrapping it was the worst part. Ended up just shoving it into a box."

"Yeah, I -"

Whatever you were about to say next is cut off by a deluge of Legends flooding onto the bridge. Several different conversations overlap as people try to put their gifts by the console without tripping over each other. You decide to find a comfortable spot to sit before all the good ones are taken. To your surprise, Mick grabs the one next to you. 

"So, who wants to go first?" Ray asks, once everyone has settled down. 

Sara nods at him. "It was your idea." 

Ray stammers and protests for a bit, but gives in once everyone starts chanting his name. He picks up a small, thin present that has dark blue wrapping paper with silver atoms. Ray tears through the paper less gently than expected to reveal a frame with a photo inside. It's a candid shot of him and a brunette woman - Anna, maybe - sitting on a park bench somewhere and laughing. Ray hastily wipes away a few tears. 

"Thank you," he begins, "whoever, um -"

Rip raises a hand. "I always wished there were more photos of Miranda and myself after she..." he clears his throat. "I hope it's alright that I-"

Before Rip can finish his sentence, Ray all but tackles him with a hug. Rip awkwardly pats his back for a bit, then gently pulls back. 

The rest of the gifts are less emotionally fraught, though no less meaningful. Ava receives two photos - one of her and Sara and one of her with the team - and a hug from Ray. Wally opens an awkwardly wrapped meditation fountain from Ava and gives Sara a set of throwing knives. Sara gives Zari a blanket with various video game symbols and characters, and Zari in turn gives Rip a hat and book from the Old West. Only you and Mick are left, which grants you both significant looks from everyone else. 

"Guess it's pretty obvious who yours is from," you joke to Mick. He grunts and goes to pick up one of the two remaining gifts. 

Your heart is in your throat as Mick carefully pulls out the tissue paper. He frowns at what's inside, but it smooths out once he picks up Dracula. 

"Original edition?" Mick murmurs. "Nice."

You swallow hard. "Look inside the front cover."

Mick does so, his eyebrows lifting as he reads whatever message Stoker left him. "Huh. Thanks, Nate."

Hearing someone call you by your first name usually doesn't send butterflies fluttering in your stomach, but your thing for Mick isn't that usual to begin with. 

"My turn, then." You stand up, grab the sole remaining box, and settle back down in your spot. 

The box is wrapped in simple silver paper and topped with a red bow. You stick the bow to your shirt before unwrapping the gift. First in the box is a photo of Harrison Ford in full Indiana Jones gear, complete with jacket. Underneath that, carefully folded up, is the exact same jacket in surprisingly good condition. 

"Is this -? Did you -?" You're at a loss for words. 

Mick avoids your gaze. "Stole it off the set. I added the picture so you could tell it's the same one."

"Thank you so much." Before you can stop yourself, you pull Mick into the best sideways hug you can manage. Your skin tingles all over when you finally let go, which almost distracts you from noticing that Mick's cheeks are a bit red. Huh. 

Sara pulls you from your thoughts by tapping something - a pen? - against a whisky bottle. "Now that the presents are done with, let's get drunk!"

Most of the team cheers and makes a beeline for the drink cart. Ray switches on some music after clarifying that it's secular Christmas/winter-themed songs only. Mick stands up and nods towards the drinks. 

"You want anything?" Mick asks. 

'A kiss' is what you want to say. What actually comes out of your mouth is, "Not right now. Thanks, though."

Mick grunts in the affirmative before leaving you alone to stew. Which lasts all of five seconds due to Wally zooming over to capture the newly open spot. 

"Y'know, I could get some mistletoe over here without Mick noticing," Wally whispers. "Wouldn't even take two seconds." 

You shake your head. "And make Mick mad at the both of us? Nah. I've known him for this long without him making good on his threats. A little longer would be nice."

Wally face palms, then leaves without saying anything more. He rushes back and - sue enough, there's a mistletoe hanging above where you're sitting. You roll your eyes and go to take it down. Unfortunately, tearing it off causes you to fall back from the amount of force you'd used. You're caught by strong arms before you can hit the ground. 

You look up to find that Mick's your timely rescuer - hero, a part of you whispers - and hastily right yourself on your own two feet. "Uh, thanks, Mick."

"What was that about?" Mick raises an eyebrow. "You shouldn't be drunk already."

"I'm not! It's just -"

"Just...?"

"Wally was trying to play a prank on us," you explain, "and I nearly fell over trying to get it down." You hold up the mistletoe and feel a blush start to spread across your face. "Funny, right?"

"What's funny? You nearly cracking your head open?" Mick asks. 

"No, um, uh-" you look down at the floor- "Wally thinking that making us kiss was a good idea for a prank. I mean, the idea of you and me -"

Mick catches your chin in his hand, tilting it up so your gazes meet. "'S not that bad an idea, actually."

"What - You - I -"

Before you can embarrass yourself even further, Mick pulls you into a kiss. You freeze for a moment, then surge forward to deepen it. Your hands settle on Mick's waist to tug him even closer. 

And then someone wolf-whistles. 

Mick sighs into your mouth, then gently pushes you away. "Should prob'ly continue this where we can have some privacy."

"My room's good," you reply. "Much closer than yours." You can't resist giving Mick another kiss. 

"Works for me, Pretty." Mick steps even farther back, then gestures to the nearest door. The two of you all but run out as you try to ignore all the teasing from the rest of the group. Sara shouts out to not do anything she wouldn't do. Like that's even that long of a list. 

...Which may have been the point. 

 XxXx 

 "Wait," you say, once you and Mick are finally in your room, "hang on a second, okay?"

Mick frowns but complies. "Y'not want to do this anymore?"

"For now?" You nod. "For now. It's just -" You run a hand through your hair. "I don't know if we're on the same page here, or if you even like me or anything."

"Would I kiss you if I didn't like you?" Mick asks.

"I mean, like me, like me. I mean -" moment of truth, here- "I'm in love with you. Have been for a while. Even when I was with Amaya, I think I felt something like that for you." Your eyes widen. "Not that I didn't love Amaya! It was just... both of you, I guess. Amaya and I were just starting to talk about it right before she, um, left." You pause to take a breath. "If you don't feel the same, that's fine, but - I don't want to do a friends with benefits thing if you don't. I don't think my heart could take it." It's a while before you can meet Mick's gaze. "So, that's where I'm at. How 'bout you?"

Mick folds his arms. "I'm not good at this feelings crap, but..." He sighs, then waves a hand around. "I feel the same. I think. 'm willing to give it a chance, anyway. Is that enough?"

"Yeah." You smile broadly. "Yeah, it is."

Mick shakes his head fondly - for him, at least - and then pulls you into another kiss.