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klbwriting · 3 years

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Unexpected Allies - Chapter 3

Fandom: Six of Crows/Shadow and Bone

Pairing: eventually will be Kaz/female!Reader but for now nothing

Warnings: I mean, Kaz Brekker is involved, someone is getting maimed

Summary: Fawn makes good on her promise of a safe house and a power struggle begins

The rest of the journey to the safe house was mostly in silence. They spoke only when asking for relief or water breaks, picking berries and sharing some of the rations Y/N had brought on the road with them. The had to cover their tracks as much as possible, staying mostly in dense foliage to be better concealed from the roads. Soon they approached a rundown cottage deep in the woods, no roads led to or away from it. It was just getting dark again and Y/N knew that they were all tired and that Kaz's leg must have been in immense pain. She let them in the cottage and smiled at their surprise. She kept the outside looking dilapidated, but the inside was fixed nicely. She told the others where rooms were, that there were fresh clothes in each and sent them away to change before getting a fire going in the hearth. Once it was ready, she put a pot of water on to boil and assembled a small meal for them to have now that they were safe. No one knew about this place, she was confident about that, they could rest here for a few days, visit the town a few miles away to resupply, and then travel north.

"How did you know what clothes I normally wear," Kaz asked, voice suspicious, as he entered the room again in black slacks and an almost fitted black button-down shirt. She looked him over and made a face of annoyance, she thought she could tell his size better, but he must have lost more weight in prison than she thought.

"I asked to search your discarded clothes upon arrival, its how I got Jesper's guns, your cane and gloves, I noticed what your color was," she said. Black, like the Darkling, but not for the same reason she thought. The Darkling wore black to assert a fear over people, fear of his power, fear of what he would do if you hurt his people, Kaz wore black to give the appearance of someone who's soul was dark, who had an empty dark hole where a heart should be, and for a short time Y/N had believed that might have been the case. Then she saw the look in his eyes when he asked her for Jesper to be put in his cell. He hid his emotions well but that one millisecond of true love for his missing friend had confirmed her suspicion, Kaz Brekker had a good heart and soul buried deep under his emotional baggage. She didn't need to bring it out or make him somehow whole again, she just needed him to have enough of a soul to help when they got to the resistance, his brains and ability to strategically mastermind almost any heist would be such an advantage to the group, they needed this man.

"Thank you, for the cane and gloves," he rumbled, turning to the take the boiling pot off the fire. Y/N almost moved to help him but realized if she did she would need to get close enough to touch him so she let him handle it, standing nearby in case the pot dropped. Kaz surprised her with how much he pushed himself, she knew he must still be in pain yet here he was working, keeping himself busy, probably trying to not think about his now decimated home. She knew how much that must be weighing on him. Her own home had been eviscerated by the old king of Ravka a few years before the civil war, when Ravka was only at war with the Fjedans. She had been in training at the Little Palace by then and her teacher had had to tell her about her family's death. It was devastating, she still couldn't bring herself to hurt anyone, much to the Darkling's annoyance. She was useful for her way of getting information, but she could always avoid hurting someone, she couldn't destroy a family like that, not like hers had been destroyed.

"I thought they might be helpful in the future," she said. "I need Kaz Brekker to be back to full power when we get to the resistance." Kaz eyed her and she couldn't tell what he was thinking as he went back to filling a kettle with hot water. She went to the cabinets, getting cups and tea. Jesper finally came out to join them, smiling like old times now that he was in proper clothes.

"You should change," Jesper said to Y/N, motioning to her still being in the prison tunic. She nodded and went to her room, changing into a pair of pants and white button-down shirt, putting on her vest of pockets and jacket. She loaded up the pockets of her vest with her gloves, some small irons ball bearings, a vial of water, and a few things for first aid. She looked in the cracked mirror on the dresser and saw she looked a mess. She washed her face in the basin of water and brushed out the newly short hair she had, putting it up in a small ponytail to keep it out of her face. She shrugged at the reflection. She was trying to escape a prison, not win a pageant so she just grabbed her guitar from the room before heading to join the others.

Kaz and Jesper were already halfway through the meal before she arrived so she just sat down at the table. Jesper passed her a bowl and some bread they had saved, she smiled at him. Jesper was such a sweet person still, ready to kill a man on site for trying to cheat at cards yes, but still so kind.

"Thank you Jesper," she said, taking up a spoon and starting to eat. After they had filled themselves, she sat back in the chair, picking at the last of her bread. "We'll stay here for a few days, rest, get supplies for the town nearby."

"We should keep moving, they probably know where you live," Kaz said, looking at her as if she were an idiot for wanting to stay in her home. She sighed; she knew they would butt heads, but did it have to start now?

"This isn't my home Kaz," she said. "I live here in secret sometimes, when I say that I am visiting home, but I have no home to visit anymore thanks to the previous king. No one knows about this shack and I have made sure that it is not easy to find. The nearest town is five miles away and they have many travelers and shouldn't notice use as long as we take precautions." Kaz didn't look convinced.

"I know in the prison you oversaw my movements, but out here, I am back in charge, it is two against one in this room so we will follow my lead. Tomorrow we get supplies, then we leave. We will go to this resistance to find our crew and until we arrive you will follow my lead," he said, voice rasping with authority. Y/N had had quite enough men trying to rule over her for her lifetime. She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Look, this town is a well-traveled area, if we go in tomorrow then it will be swarming with Grisha looking for 2 escapees that killed a high-ranking member of the Darkling's inner circle, if we stay here a few days those Grisha will have left to search other towns and we can freely get supplies and head out on our journey. I know that prison has addled your brain but even Jesper knows that this idea of yours is foolish," she said. Both turned to look at Jesper who was trying to sneak out of the room.

"Jesper, tell her she's crazy," Kaz demanded. Jesper opened his mouth.

"Please, his plan is idiotic..."

"No one has ever said called me idiotic..."

"Maybe not to your face..."

"YOU'RE BOTH WRONG!" Jesper finally said, voice loud and clear, startling the two of them out of their argument. Kaz and Y/N looked at him again. "Look, we do need to lay low, but we still need to get out of here quick. So we should take a day, regroup and set out a plan to get north, but we can't just stay here for days, they will find us, you think that the Darkling, with all the betrayal he's suffered, is just going to let his new girlfriend disappear to a shack for a few days and not know where it is?"

Y/N saw Kaz grip his cane tighter, mirroring the look on her of annoyance on her face. Jesper was right on both accounts, a day would clear out most Grisha from the town, giving them a chance to resupply and maybe get lucky and steal a carriage out of town, and he was right about the Darkling. She was an idiot to think he hadn't tracked her to the shed when she disappeared. She looked to Kaz and he nodded at her.

"We stay in tomorrow, the day after we get supplies, and we get moving," Y/N said. Kaz agreed. "Now, get cleaned up and get some sleep."

Kaz had noticed the guitar that Y/N had brought out to the living area the night before but he didn't ask her about it until she began to strum it around midday. They were in the middle of their rest day and Jesper was still sleeping so it was just Y/N and Kaz sitting by the fire. Kaz had been thinking about what he planned to do once he found his crew again, how to get them out of the resistance, maybe find a new city they could run. Y/N had been humming to herself, picking at the guitar for some time now. Kaz found that the music was soothing to him, her voice deep and calming, it seemed to be helping him think. After a time he heard her mumbling some words.

"What is that?" he asked, looking at her finally, finding her looking at him as if in a trance. She shook herself and looked at him blinking a few times before her face reddened a little. Surprisingly Kaz felt his face getting red also, but he wasn't sure why. She had an attraction to him, that was clear now. He had thought perhaps at the prison she had been acting well, but clearly she did find him entrancing for some reason. And strangely Kaz found he liked that. He had known other women in the past had been interested in him, or well at least, interested in his power within the Dregs. There had been something he felt with Inej, but they had never explored that and honestly now that they had been apart it seemed perhaps those feelings were more friendly than he had previously believed. This that roared up in him now was new, strange. He had been in prison too long, he needed to focus. Y/N finally had pulled herself from her own mind, letting out a chuckle as she picked a couple notes.

"O, I used to write songs all the time, its been awhile but something just came to me last night," she said. "Do you like music?" Kaz should have just dropped it and not answered but he wanted to talk to her.

"Sometimes, but we didn't have a lot of music at the Crow Club, it was more gambling than entertainment, but what you were playing sounded nice," he said. She smiled at him and his mouth twitched up into a smirk.

"You never smile do you?" she asked, setting the guitar flat in her lap. He could see that there was writing on it, signatures. She followed his eyes and her own eyes turned sad. "My family...friends from my village, they signed it when they gave it to me. It was a present when I left to do my Grisha training." She looked back at him, her dark eyes a little watery. "My older brother taught me to play it when I was 4, couldn't even reach the strings." Kaz looked at her, a memory flooding back of being back on the farm, he was with Jordie in the barn, around 6 and Jordie was showing him how to tie a fishing line so he could go fishing for the first time.

"You're right, I don't smile," he said. He knew he should keep his mouth shut but he couldn't help but ask. "Do you know if Pekka Rollins survived the assault on Ketterdam?"

"I don't know, I don't have a list of names and I wasn't there," she said. He could tell she was lying, probably thinking he would hate her for being present at the destruction of his home but he didn't hate her. What he hated was the idea that Pekka Rollins could be dead and he hadn't been the one to kill him. "Was he a friend of yours?"

"No, his death was supposed to be at my hand," he responded, voice rasping in anger. He ran a hand through his hair, noting it was significantly longer than it was before he went to prison. When he glanced up at Y/N he saw she was watching him intently again. "It's rude to stare."

"Ya well then don't do that to your hair, makes me want to touch it," she responded. He looked at her, expecting her to giggle or blush and look away but instead she just stared right back at him. He swallowed hard. Why did her eyes have to look through him? It was almost like she could see what he was thinking. The thought of someone touching his hair made him shutter internally but he couldn't lie when he thought about her doing it, it wasn't as repulsive as everyone else, it almost seemed like it might be nice. She smiled at him.

"If you are ever comfortable enough let me know, I can give you a haircut or something if you want," she offered. He was going to answer when Jesper came stumbling out of his room, shirtless wearing one shoe.

"Is anyone making dinner?"

#six of crows #kaz #kaz brekker #kazbrekker #kaz x reader #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone #unexpected allies series

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mintaka14 · 3 years

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Coryphée

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter Six – Coda

“I heard,” one of the seamstresses said from her workstation, “that the results of the concours are going out today.”

And of course, the backstage staff knew before the dancers themselves had even received the letters of offer or rejection. Marinette shifted on her stool and frowned down in concentration at the old costume she was unpicking, one laborious stitch at a time.

The names of the new premiére danseuses and premier danseurs were tossed around, and Marinette only paid them half a mind, until someone asked, “What about the new sujet? Who got that one?”

“Oh, Mireille Caquet got the promotion,” someone else said, and Marinette put down the seam ripper in surprise.

“Not Lila Rossi?” she asked, and the girl across from her started laughing.

“Not in a month of Sundays,” Nicolette snorted. “That one’s never going to make it out of quadrilles, I can tell you that, and bad luck to her. Always so rude, and I don’t envy anyone who ever gets her for fittings.” She giggled. “We always make sure Mlle Rossi gets the last pick of the gowns and wigs, the one that’s always just a little bit too tight or a colour she doesn’t like much.”

Marinette couldn’t help the gasp of laughter that escaped her.

“Did you know her?” someone else asked Marinette.

“Of course she did,” Nicolette said. “Marinette was in the corps until she grew a brain and got out.”

Marinette just smiled and picked up the seam ripper again.

“Besides, I heard there’ve been discussions going on,” Pascal said from his workstation as he concentrated on the placement of another sequin. “Lila Rossi pissed off the wrong person, and the Director of the Conservatory himself got involved. They’re not going to renew her season’s contract when it finishes soon.”

That provoked an uproar in the atelier, and Marinette’s seam picker fell from her fingers to bounce on the floor.

“But… she was a permanent contract! She said she was permanent.”

Pascal was shaking his head gleefully. “No, no, chérie. She was a seasonal.”

There was a knock on the atelier door, and a ripple of excited murmuring ran through the room.

“Marinette,” one of the seamstresses said in a singsong voice. “Your boyfriend’s here.”

And Luka was leaning against the doorframe, his gorgeous blue eyes only on her.

“Ready to go, melody?” he asked, and Eloise Marchand waved her off with an indulgent smile.

“There’s nothing that can’t be done tomorrow,” the costume director told her. “We’ll all be packing up soon anyway. You go and enjoy your evening.”

Marinette ignored the giggles and sighs as she carefully put away the costume she’d been working on and gathered up her things. It was all good-humoured, and Nicolette whispered, “You’re so lucky” as Marinette passed her.

“I know,” she whispered back, and then Luka took her hand, his smile lighting up, and she followed him out the door. All the way down from the sixth floor they talked about inconsequential things, and how his search for an apartment was going.

“I mean, I love the Liberty,” Luka sighed, “and I’m going to miss Ma and Jules, but I’m really not going to miss Jules banging on the wall or making comments any time you come round.”

Juleka had been having way too much fun with playing spoilsport lately. Marinette felt the embarrassed fire rising in her face, and changed the subject. She eyed Luka thoughtfully, and brought up a suspicion that she’d had since Pascal had shared his piece of gossip.

“I heard a rumour today that Lila’s seasonal contract with the company is getting cancelled, and that the Director of the Conservatory of Music was involved. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” she asked, and he cast his eyes up.

“I may have had a conversation with my mother’s ex-boyfriend who just happens to be the Director of the Conservatory,” he said with feigned innocence. “The subject of Lila may have come up.”

“Luka!” She shoved his arm gently, and then sighed. “I could almost feel sorry for her. She was never going to get ahead in the company, and I think she knew it.”

“She put glass in your shoes,” Luka said, and she shouldn’t have found that rumbling growl in his voice as sexy as she did. Distracted by that thought, it took her a moment to realise that he was watching her.

“Do you wish I hadn’t said anything?” he asked her, and she subjected that to some consideration.

“No, I think I’m glad you did. If she’s done things like that to me to get what she wants, she’ll do it again to someone else if she’s left unchecked,” Marinette said. They’d reached the entrance hall, and Luka held the door open for her. “That recording was only going to hold her back for so long.”

He took her hand again as they crossed the courtyard and passed under the huge and embellished stone archway, and steered her in the opposite direction when she started to turn towards the metro.

“How do you feel about dinner at Midi12 tonight?” She gave him a startled glance, and he shrugged self-consciously. “I finished my thesis today, and I feel like celebrating, and galette.”

Marinette stopped and flung her arms around him. “Luka! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I still have to edit a couple of things, and get my supervisor’s okay on it, but… it’ll be ready to hand to her when she gets back from Madrid in a few weeks. The research component’s all done.”

She glowed up at him. “We definitely need to celebrate.”

Palais Garnier loomed majestically behind them. The sky above the streets was still waiting for sunset, but the late afternoon air was starting to grow heavy and the golden light from the cafes and restaurants spilled over the grey slabs of concrete under their feet. It was starting to turn cooler, and the figures around them were hurrying a little now. Marinette leaned into Luka’s warmth, and he put an arm around her as they walked.

Marinette shot him a mischievous look. “You do know Papa does much better galette than Midi12?”

“Tom does better pastries than anyone,” Luka agreed, then his grin became a little wry. “I’d just kind of like you all to myself for a little while before we have to head home.”

“I like the sound of that.”

The umbrellas outside the Palais Garnier restaurant were furled behind the stone balustrade and hedge, but they could hear the distant clink of china and cutlery, and the soft hum of voices from the early patrons. Classical statues gazed down indifferently from their perches along the balustrade, and the huge iron streetlamps weren’t lit yet. They made dark, spiky silhouettes against the thick blue sky.

“So how did things go for you today?” Luka asked, running his thumb along the edge of her hand.

“Well, it wasn’t finished the thesis exciting, but Mme Marchand has me going through the costume archives right now, and I’ve been unpicking some of the old costumes to try and match fabrics. It’s fascinating, the way it was constructed. I’m learning so much, and so much of what I did when I was on stage makes a lot more sense now. She said she’ll take me to the fabric warehouses with her the next time she has to source something.” Luka grinned at the little skip of enthusiasm that she couldn’t suppress. “It’s going to be exhausting once my course gets underway, trying to juggle that and the residency program, but it’ll be worth it. I’ll get to work on the next season costumes – Adrien said his father’s sponsoring again, so they’re going to be stunning.”

Luka was watching her with a half-smile. “You saw Adrien?”

“I caught up with some of the company for lunch today, and Adrien was there.”

“How is he?”

Marinette giggled. “He’s started sneaking out to date the daughter of one of his father’s business associates, so he’s happy.”

“Sneaking out? Does his father disapprove or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Marinette said with a shrug. “I think Adrien’s just developed a taste for sneaking around. He’s got a lot of years of rebellion to catch up on, apparently.”

Luka laughed. “You’re a bad influence, melody.”

“He’s heard a rumour that next season is going to be La Bayadère, and I love the costumes for that. The colours are just glorious, and I’m really looking forward to seeing what M. Agreste’s take on it is.”

“Any regrets that it won’t be you wearing those costumes?” he asked.

“Not really. No. I mean, I have the odd moment when I miss that feeling, but I’d much rather be making them than dancing in them.”

They turned away from the Palais Garnier in its opulent grandeur, an isolated island of magnificence, into the noisier streets where the rumble and honk of traffic was overlaid with voices and conversation and laughter. Buildings and shops crowded above Marinette and Luka as they strolled towards the crêperie, lost in their own world.

“So, no regrets?” he repeated quietly, and Marinette knew he was asking about more than just costumes. She couldn’t help laughing.

“I got away with the heist without going to prison, I got into a course that I’m loving for a career that I’m excited about, and Mme Marchand got me into a residency that most people in theatre design would kill for, even though I haven’t got my qualifications yet.”

She lifted her hand and brushed her fingertips along the line of his jaw, loving the feel of his breath on her palm as he leaned into her touch.

“And I get to go home with the man I adore,” she said softly. “No regrets. Not ever.”

There was something in the way that Luka was looking at her that brought a blush to her cheeks and left her heart stumbling in her chest.

“What are you thinking?”

He ducked his head until the blue tips of his hair shadowed his eyes, but she could see the soft smile curling the corners of his mouth.

“I can’t tell you, because you didn’t want me to get too far ahead of myself. Ask me again when you’ve finished your degree.”

Her eyes widened.

“Oh,” she said, a little breathlessly. “Oh. Okay.”

They walked a little further. Marinette glanced up at him.

“That’s a whole three years away,” she said pensively, and his eyes were back on her now. “Would you tell me if I asked when I’ve completed my residency?”

There was that quality of stillness in the way he was holding himself, as if he didn’t quite dare to believe what he thought he was hearing. “That’s... June. End of June.”

“Is that too soon?” she asked, and gave a faint squeak as Luka kissed her hard, and kissed her again, and again until they melted into softer kisses, heedless of the people passing by. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair, and his arms were around her, pulling her close while life moved on around them. Perhaps there were a few frowns, or a few indulgent smiles, thrown their way, but neither of them noticed.

“June, tomorrow, today, whenever you want,” he breathed when they finally came up for air, his voice a little husky. “I’m yours, melody.”

And Marinette pulled him down for another kiss, too happy to speak.

#ml ballet au #lukanette #pro lukamari #happy endings

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

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Flawless (7)

Con Artist AU. masterlist.

Content Warning: swearing, PTSD, violence, sex

Before we get started here, you all need to know that Flawless will be going on a mini-hiatus. This chapter is the end of my original outline, and I need to spend some time planning out the next plot arc before I write the next chapter.

(Also, shoutout to the lovely humans who translated the line in French. Y’all are the real MVPs.)

Anyway, this is it. The chapter you’ve all been waiting for. The heist. It feels so surreal to finally write it. As always, thank you for coming on this wild ride with me. ❤

*****

In the shadow of its brightly illuminated landmarks, Paris hummed to the tune of debauchery.

Paparazzi gathered around the Louvre’s glass pyramid, waiting to capture a clear picture of a celebrity guest entering the afterparty. Riley shielded her face with her clutch as she walked in, careful to remain unidentifiable in the barrage of photos. The gold buttons on her emerald jacket-dress caught the warm light emanating from the pyramid and the bright camera flashes. She was well dressed, but not enough to stand out. Tonight, Riley needed to blend in.

She ran a hand through her hair, making sure the loose curls covered her earpiece. For the sake of stealth, the team’s comms were skin color, but they were Nikki and Cage’s skin color, not Riley’s.

Riley was half-tempted to throw her comms into one of the fountains out of spite.

She was the last of the Five Eyes to arrive. They staggered their arrivals to avoid being associated with one another, as a precaution. Pulse thrumming in anticipation, Riley bounced on her toes slightly as she waited in line to check in. The Louvre security team meticulously checked each guest’s ID against the guest list; there would be no party crashers tonight.

It had been all too easy for Riley to add the Five Eyes’ cover identities to the guest list a week ago. Now, she handed the stone-faced security guard a drivers’ license bearing her face and the name “Danika Jackson.” Returning her ID with a nod, the security guard stepped aside, allowing Riley to enter the party.

Everyone is responsible for their own entrance and exit. That was her new rule. She got everyone’s names added to the guest list, but her assistance ended there. If someone ran into trouble, it was on them to bail themselves out.

Riley had learned that rule from her mentor when she first dipped her toes into the world of two-faced schemes and nimble-fingered cons, but she never truly understood it—or saw the need to enforce it—until she felt the bite of handcuffs digging into her wrists.

It was a mistake she’d never make again.

Riley strolled through the hallway bearing massive Italian paintings, slowly making her way to the room containing the most overrated painting of all time—and the rendezvous point.

The Mona Lisa room was empty aside from a blonde woman in a beaded, blood-red cocktail dress standing much too close to the glass-encased painting. Riley stood to the woman’s right and studied the painting as well. It was underwhelming.

“You’d think the most beautiful woman in art would be wearing a prettier dress,” Nikki remarked.

Riley snorted, crossing her arms. “Says the woman who just bought a four-thousand-dollar cheetah print pantsuit.”

Nikki feigned offence. “You’re just jealous because you couldn’t pull it off. Anyway, quiz time. What year did da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa?”

“1503,” Riley answered easily. “And the woman’s name is Lisa del Giocondo.” Nikki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What’s that look for?”

“I didn’t think you actually listen when I talk about art.”

Riley offered her friend a small smile. “I’m always listening to you.” The sound of heels clicking down the hall made them pause. When the coast was clear, Riley murmured, “Is everyone in position?”

“Yeah. Desi and Sam should be inside already, and Jill checked in a few guests in front of me.”

“How did that go?”

“Easy peasy.” Nikki glanced at Riley and softened her tone. “Are we sure Jill is ready for this?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we? Don’t forget, it was your idea to recruit her.”

Nikki turned back to the Mona Lisa. “You know, you really do suck at pep talks.”

“Oh shut up.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you want control room duty?”

Nikki spared her a sideways glance. “I’ll do it. You did it last time.” Her second sentence hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the job gone horribly wrong. And a reminder of all the things they still hadn’t talked about.

Riley brushed it aside. They could talk after they were each forty million dollars richer.

Pulling a flash drive hidden inside an old lipstick tube out of her clutch, Riley instructed, “Plug this in, and it’ll do half the work for you.”

“Thanks.” Nikki put the tube in her own purse. “See you on the other side.”

“Don’t get caught.”

“Don’t get caught,” Nikki parroted, and Riley strode down the hall toward the party.

She followed the pulsing music and the stream of guests to a room in the far corner of the museum, passing the employee door Nikki would sneak into along the way. Crossing the threshold, she couldn’t conceal her gasp. Riley had seen plenty of opulent rooms over the years, but the Galerie d’Apollon was something else entirely. Gold moulding framed the dozens of paintings covering the walls and the arched ceiling. Display cases containing the French Crown Jewels formed a line down the middle of the rectangular room. Despite the party’s couture dress code, the bedazzled guests looked entirely underdressed compared to the grandeur of the gallery.

She only let herself be awestruck for a few seconds before getting to work, marking the exits and security cameras. Riley didn’t like how deep the gallery was in the museum—and how far she would have to walk to make a clean escape with the jewels.

She would be the one walking out with them. No one else. Riley had made that crystal clear during the team planning meeting a few days ago.

Draped in black fabric, the case containing the designer jewelry sat in the middle of the gallery. A security guard stood by it, no doubt to ward off nosey guests wanting a sneak peek.

A wave of nausea passed through her, reminding Riley that the closest thing to a substantial meal she’d eaten all day was the two pastries she ate a few hours ago. She slipped through the crowd with practiced ease, heading for the snack table. Jill was already there, gorging herself on bread and cheese. Eyes wide, the blonde froze as Riley sidled next to her, evidently thinking she was in trouble.

But Riley simply reached for a piece of bread and asked, “Which cheese is the best?”

Exhaling audibly, Jill pointed a manicured, light blue nail. “That one.” Riley tried it. Jill was right; it was delicious.

“You ready, Blondie?” Riley asked, lowering her voice. “There’s no job unless you get this right.”

Jill rolled her shoulders back, snarking, “No pressure or anything.” There was a bite to her words, one Riley noticed only came out when someone, namely her, pushed the blonde a little too far.

“Sorry,” Riley said, and she meant it. “You can do this. Don’t second-guess yourself. Commit.”

Jill merely nodded, swallowing another piece of cheese.

Riley wandered off, not wanting to stay with Jill too long. With her back to a wall, she scanned the room in search of Desi and Cage. When she didn’t see them on her first sweep, Riley furrowed her brow. Where the hell were they?

A bright laugh carried across the room—Cage. There you are, Riley thought. She spied her teammate enjoying the spotlight in the center of a group of models all cooing over Cage’s pale pink dress. It suited Cage, with its billowy sleeves and flowy skirt that hit just below her knees. Cage giggled again, putting her hand on a woman’s shoulder a little too boldly for the gesture to be casual.

Predictably, Desi wasn’t far away, staring daggers at her shameless flirt of a girlfriend.

Riley unmuted her comms. “Easy there, Des. It’s just an act.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she snapped. Even from a distance, Riley could see Desi’s tight grip on her champagne flute.

Riley cooed, “So jealous.”

The woman wrapped a proprietary arm around Cage, clearly welcome to the blonde’s advances, and Cage beamed at her.

It was enough to push Desi over the edge. “Don’t forget whose bed you’re sleeping in tonight, Samantha,” she snarled. “And I don’t remember agreeing to share.”

Cage excused herself from the group. “My love, did it ever occur to you that I’m making you jealous on purpose? Because we both know—”

Nikki cut her off, rescuing the team from whatever filthy thing was about to come out of Cage’s mouth. “Don’t be gross, you two.” Riley stifled a laugh. She and Nikki had been subjected to many things they didn’t want to hear over the years. This would hardly faze her now.

Focus. They needed to focus.

Riley finally spotted the sharp-eyed assistant she noticed at the runway show. Always two steps behind the designer, the young woman obediently trailed him as he floated from group to group. The assistant finished her drink, setting it on the tray of a passing waiter, and strode toward the main hallway in this wing of the museum.

“I think she’s going to the bathroom,” Jill said. “Do I follow her?”

Snagging a drink of her own, Riley answered, “No. Bump into her when she comes back.” She watched Jill make her way toward the far side of the gallery, ready to intercept the assistant and steal her keys.

Everything was going to plan. Jill just had to steal the keys, and then all they had to do was hurry up and wait for the big reveal. Eight o’clock, Riley was told upon arrival. The designer would commence his speech at eight, then reveal his masterpiece to the world.

Riley checked her watch. Thirty more minutes.

She knew she’d been standing in this spot for too long already, but Riley was loath to give up the relative safety of having a wall at her back. The twinge of fear she’d felt earlier at the runway show came raging to the surface, rooting her stiletto-clad feet in place. Leaving the wall meant having people in her blind spot. No one’s going to hurt me, Riley promised herself. This is a party, not a prison.

Her legs felt like lead weights, but Riley forced herself to re-enter the crowd, one agonizing stride at a time. She made it as far as the nearest display case before she had to stop, and her eyes landed on a tiara resting in the center of the display. Countless tiny diamonds formed flowery swoops and swirls, with a handful of emeralds scattered between them, filling what would otherwise be empty spaces. In the center, the diamonds framed a large, round emerald, mimicking the shape of a flower.

It was exactly what Riley would have stolen had the Five Eyes agreed to rob the Louvre itself, rather than this party. Maybe she’d come back for it, one day.

Using the case as a pseudo-wall, Riley took a deep breath and re-scanned the room in search of Jill. Unsurprisingly, Jill was exactly where Riley had last seen her.

She kept an eye on the recruit, knowing Desi and Cage were doing the same. Riley was impressed; Jill had quickly figured out how to linger without being obvious she was waiting for something. Jill mindlessly pushed up her glasses—the only visible sign of her nerves—and the movement drew Riley’s attention.

But not to Jill.

To another blond head, far behind her. One Riley desperately hoped to never see again.

“We have a problem,” Desi said.

“I saw.”

Nikki’s ex-boyfriend stalked into the gallery, a taller, older man at his heels like a shadow—the same men who chased Riley, Nikki, and Jill through the taco shop a few weeks ago.

Fuck.

Ducking her head to avoid being spotted, Riley hissed, “Nik, get your ass to the control room and lock the door behind you. We’ve got company.”

“Already here. Accessing system controls as we speak. Whoever designed the security system in this place should be fired, because this is ridiculously simple. I should’ve left it in French just to keep it interesting.” A pause. "Who's here? Wait. No. Let me guess. Interpol? The mob? That bitchy designer I once robbed point-blank?"

"Your ex."

"Oh."

"You didn't tell him about our dream job, did you?" The words came out a little too accusatory, but Riley didn't care. She needed to know.

"No! Of course I didn't. He— Look, I don't know why he's here, and we can figure that out later. Right now, you need to keep him busy. He's smart, Riles. Maybe even smarter than you. Be careful."

Riley scoffed. "Smarter than me? We'll see about that."

"I'm serious, Riley."

But Riley ignored her, instead giving instructions of her own. "Cage, you watch Jill. Des—"

"I've got the big one." Classic Desi, never letting her finish a sentence and yet always knowing what she was going to say. The habit was obnoxious at first, but over time Riley learned to appreciate it. "See the bulge on his left side? He keeps touching it." Desi said. "He's armed."

“He’s what?” Jill exclaimed.

Chuckling, Desi said, “Now look at my left side. We match.” A small, terrified squeak was the only response. “Well, what did you think I meant when I told you I’m the team’s exfil specialist?”

“Not that!”

“And Nik’s ex?” Riley asked, redirecting the conversation.

“Seems clean.”

“He is,” Nikki confirmed. “Mac hates guns.”

“You know,” Riley said, studying the larger of the two men, “The other one kind of looks like a guy who dated my mom once.”

“Really?” Desi asked. “Think he’s the same guy?”

Riley took a closer look. He was tall, with broad, muscled shoulders and a buzzed haircut, and considering how often he fidgeted with his tie, he didn’t get dressed up often. He smiled at a passing waitress. He had an open, friendly smile, which totally contrasted with the systematic way he scanned the room. “Nah.”

Jill squawked, “Wait! Are we really still going through with this? Didn’t it just get a whole lot harder?”

“You say harder, I say more fun,” Cage said. “Just stick to the plan. You’ll be fine.”

Jill, it seemed, wasn’t so easily reassured. “Am I the only one who sees this is a trap?”

“It’s only a trap when you don’t know about it. When you do, it’s a challenge,” Riley said.

“But what if the plan goes wrong? Then what?”

At the same time, all four women answered, “Improvise.”

Riley muted her comms as she approached Nikki’s ex; Jill didn’t need the added distraction. Help her, Riley pleaded with the universe. You owe me.

Pushing her concerns about Jill to the back of her mind, Riley studied her target. There was a champagne flute in the spy’s hand, but he didn’t drink it—not even a sip—and his methodical gaze swept the room, no doubt making note of each guest and who they interacted with.

He was cute, she had to admit. Definitely Nikki’s type.

Purposefully not watching where she was going, Riley collided with him, narrowly avoiding sloshing his drink onto her shoes. She pretended to stumble, and his free hand caught her waist, ensuring Riley stayed upright. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Pardon me.”

His hand left her side. Frowning, he asked, “Do I know you?”

Don’t lie. Evade. Her former mentor taught her that.

Riley smirked. “I bet you use that line on every beautiful woman you stumble into.”

“Only when I’m too blown away to say something original.” He winked.

Maybe this would be easier than Riley anticipated. “Care to wander the museum with me while you practice your next line?”

“Normally I would, but I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking to start anything new.”

So much for that plan.

His honesty, however, was surprising.

“Not even a little fun?” she goaded, but Nikki’s ex declined once more before excusing himself and vanishing into the crowd.

At least Desi had better luck keeping the other spy occupied. She had him cornered, her body carefully angled to prevent him from seeing the slight bulge from the gun hidden in her dress. The plunging neckline had two purposes—easy access to the gun holstered at her side while providing a distracting view of her chest and intricate tattoos. It was just enough to snag wandering eyes and keep them focused on the front of her body, rather than the side. To the spy’s credit, his eyes remained pointedly fixed on Desi’s face.

“Got the keys,” Jill announced. Perfect timing.

Riley breathed a sigh of relief. “Good work, Blondie.”

Now, all they had to do was wait.

*****

While the designer yammered some pretentious bullshit about fine jewelry as the centerpiece of fashion and art, Riley slowly pushed her way to the front of the crowd gathering for the reveal. A few feet away, Cage did the same. Across from them—closest to the still-covered jewelry display case—Desi and Jill took their places. None of them were particularly interested by the designer’s speech, but Nikki would be hanging on every word if she were here.

The designer rambled on, explaining how particular pieces among the French Crown Jewels influenced the designs of his own work. It was awfully arrogant, Riley thought, comparing his own work to such timeless pieces. The longer he spoke, the more Riley disliked him and didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt for robbing him.

Lingering on the edge of the crowd, Nikki’s ex and his partner seemed content to remain out of the way. For all Riley cared, they could stay there all night.

The gallery lights flickered once. A few guests glanced up nervously, but the majority remained transfixed on the designer.

Nikki’s voice crackled through the comms. “Everyone ready? Nod once if you are.” Riley nodded. One by one, so did everyone else. “Alrighty then. Lights out in five…”

Riley counted the number of paces between her and Cage—six.

“Four…”

Paces from Cage to the jewelry case—eight.

“Three…”

Paces from the case back to her original position—ten.

Two…

Closing her eyes, Riley waited.

“One.”

Several women shrieked when the lights went out.

Riley opened her eyes, and before they’d even adjusted to the dark, she strode toward Cage. Six steps. She collided with Cage, dropping her purse on the ground and taking Cage’s identical one, containing replicas of the necklace and earrings.

Cage shouted that someone stole her purse, causing a scene. She’d chatted and flirted with enough people throughout the night for her voice to be easily recognized, and a murmur broke out among the agitated crowd, creating just enough background noise to cover the sound of Riley’s heels clicking on the floor.

Eight steps to the back side of the jewelry display. Riley could just make out Jill and Desi unlocking the case with the assistant’s keys. She braced for an alarm to sound, but there was nothing. Atta girl, Nikki.

Riley opened the purse. Carefully, Desi replaced the real jewels with the fakes, depositing the real ones inside Cage’s purse.

Jill locked the case and replaced the cover, and Riley returned to her original position among the crowd. The designer and his assistant remained oblivious to what transpired behind them, even as Jill slipped the keys back into the assistant’s dress pocket.

“Lights on in three,” Nikki warned.

Emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh white light over the murmuring crowd. A man angrily questioned what happened, followed by a chorus of “Yeah, what he said!”s in a variety of languages. The assistant urged the crowd to remain calm, promising everything would be sorted out shortly.

Riley looked over her shoulder, searching for Nikki’s ex. He was nowhere to be found. She narrowed her eyes, but with two hundred million dollars worth of jewelry in her hand, Riley decided she didn’t particularly care.

The woman Cage flirted with the longest stepped forward, picking up the purse Riley had tossed near Cage’s feet. “Isn’t this your purse?” she asked Cage.

Riley’s teammate feigned embarrassment, gracefully reclaiming the purse. “Yes, that’s it. Thank you.”

Just as an outraged Cage exclaimed the purse was empty, Riley melted into the dispersing crowd, slowly making her way toward the museum’s exit. That was the plan. She’d leave first, and once she escaped with the jewels, everyone else would exit as well.

Riley retraced her steps, heels clicking on the hardwood flooring of the museum’s endless long hallways. She didn’t look at any of the art as she passed, not even a single glance. Art had always been more Nikki’s thing than hers.

Weaving her way back to the exit, Riley prayed Nikki hadn’t missed any of the cameras. She was supposed to loop them all, allowing Riley to leave the museum unseen. But with each additional camera—some obvious, some not—Riley’s anxiety rose.

Nikki knows what she’s doing, Riley reminded herself. She won’t let anything happen to me.

Two years ago, that reassurance would’ve been enough.

Now, her distrusting brain shot back, Are you sure?

Riley didn’t dignify it with a response.

Passing the museum’s security checkpoint, Riley smiled at a bored-looking security guard. “Vous partez déjà?” he asked.

Riley hoped the security guard asked why she was leaving so soon. She never did get around to brushing up on her French. “Oui, I have a flight to catch.” Not a lie, although the flight wouldn’t take off until early tomorrow morning.

The crisp night breeze prickled Riley’s bare skin. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs. For the first time that night, Riley finally felt her body start to relax. The vast, empty plaza felt so much safer than the packed gallery. Still not safe enough to let her guard down, but safer. Riley slipped her hand into the purse, fingers closing around an earring. It was surprisingly heavy in her palm.

Another flawless job. The Five Eyes were back in business.

She was halfway across the plaza when Nikki started cursing, but Riley didn’t slow. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. The job was done. No turning back now.

There was a distinct male voice in the background, but Riley couldn’t make out what he said.

“What do you mean, ‘I had a feeling you’d be here’?” Nikki demanded. “We haven’t spoken in months, Mac, and I know you didn’t track me here on your own.”

Her ex’s voice was nothing more than a low, indiscernible rumble.

“What?” Nikki whispered, her voice breaking mid-word.

As much as Riley wanted to know what he said, she kept walking. But that didn’t stop the others from hissing Nikki’s name, demanding to know what was going on.

Nikki yelped, and then the male voice purred, loud and clear, “I know you’re listening, Riley. Why don’t we go on that little walk now?”

With a cold laugh, Riley said, “In your fucking dreams.” How did he know her name? As far as she knew, Nikki never mentioned her.

Still, she kept walking. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. No matter what.

Riley muted her comms, and Nikki’s piercing shriek filled her ear. A muffled grunt followed.

Then nothing.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

“Riley, you need to come back,” Jill pleaded. “Nikki needs help.”

She didn’t answer, clenching her jaw with the effort to keep silent. An airplane flew overhead, and Riley tracked its path across the sky. Every step brought Riley closer to her own flight home—and the freedom that entailed. Turning around now would only put that in jeopardy.

But every step also took her away from her best friend. The woman she once believed she’d do anything for.

Jill was overreacting, Riley reasoned. Nikki was more than capable of getting herself out of a bind. Riley lost track of the number of impossible situations she and Nikki had found themselves in over the years, and they always found a way to escape.

“Sam is getting Jill out,” Desi said, slightly out of breath. “Riles, I don’t think I can get Nikki out on my own. Jill is right. You need to come back.”

Riley faltered. If Desi thought there was a problem, then something must’ve gone really, really wrong.

Maybe Jill wasn’t overreacting after all.

“Des—” Cage started. “They opened the case.”

“So?”

“They know the jewels are fake. If Riley comes back, it won’t just be Nikki going to prison.”

Prison.

Riley didn’t think she was breathing. Heart thudding wildly, her stomach tied itself into knots, and her clothes became damp with sweat. The sense of safety she’d felt earlier was gone, and Riley fought the urge to run. Every little noise—traffic, pedestrian chatter, a siren in the distance—was coming for her, ready to drag her into some dark hole she’d never emerge from.

Nothing was logical anymore, like the part of her brain capable of rational thought had gone to sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to wake up, but it was no use.

Run, while you still have the chance, her body screamed.

Everyone is responsible for their own exit, her brain repeated.

She needed to turn around. Nikki couldn’t go to prison.

Two years ago, Riley had gone to prison in Nikki’s stead. She let herself be arrested to protect her friends. Her family.

If Nikki went to prison now, then Riley’s sacrifice would be in vain.

But Riley’s body refused to turn around. Her worst memories from prison flashed before her eyes—ones Riley desperately wanted to forget—like a cougar crouching in the shadows, waiting for the exact moment she was at her weakest to pounce.

She couldn’t go back there. She couldn’t go through that again.

She wouldn’t survive it twice.

“Riles,” Nikki pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where are you?”

Run, that voice in her head said. Don’t look back.

Her steps were slower now, less sure. But Riley didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

“I need you.”

Save yourself, girl.

“I’m sorry,” Riley whispered, but her comms were still muted. With a shaking hand, Riley unmuted them one last time.

It’s better this way, the voice promised. You’ll see.

It was all too easy to slip into the brutal, emotionless persona she’d built while in prison, the process having become instinct. It was necessary then, to keep her safe and alive. Now, it did the same, preventing Riley from making a mistake every cell in her body knew she wouldn’t come back from.

In a cold, unflinching voice, Riley said, “Everyone is responsible for their own exit.”

She threw her earpiece into a nearby fountain, and the click of her stilettos echoed in the night.

~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.

@macrileyedits / @hellishrose / @losingitovermacriley / @mylifequotesshowallofthem / @thecarrieonokay / @holbytlanna /

#beth writes #flawless au #macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #riley davis #nikki carpenter #desiree nguyen #samantha cage #jill morgan #angus macgyver #jack dalton #<- look who's back

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darksunrising · 4 years

Text

Sola Gratia (13/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : No particular warning.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 13/? (3475 words)

Author’s notes : Final episode of Act II ! I’m taking a little break to work on the plotline and real life stuff, but trust that I’ll stay active, and will be back soon with more chapters !

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

The Dark Knight came up to me, and Leah gave me a knowing look. The fiend. I stood up, nervously glancing around me, and handed him my handkerchief. He took hold of it, and carried it to his helmet as to kiss it. The crowd cheered loudly. They must have thought it was part of the entertainment. I still felt the heat rise to my cheeks. Gods, maybe it actually was a calculated plot, damn Leah and her scheming. If I trusted the look of the 'Royals', over on the opposite bleachers, not everyone knew... He tied the scarf around the grip of his lance, and I could swear I saw two lights gleam into the darkness of the helmet. I sat back down as he left, feeling dozens of looks on me as I tried to maintain some composure. Act the part. Be a noble lady. Think... Catherine de' Medici. There.

Vlad had his horse come into place with ease, as I barely saw him touch the reins. His adversary, ironically, was wearing red, mounted on a white horse, and looked massive compared to the slender, elegant silhouette of the dark rider at the other end of the jousting lists. I couldn't help but feel worried. He supposedly didn't risk anything, but the lances were wooden, for hell's sake. That's just taunting the Devil. Or God, maybe, in his case. Taking a deep breath, I waited anxiously for the sound of the horn.

The riders spurred their horses. They passed each other, once, twice, and a third time. The Red Knight made a move, and I saw his lance miss Vlad by inches. Not miss, exactly, as I saw him lean slightly to the side. I could picture his smug smile. That poor guy had no idea what was coming. Turning back in a cloud of sand, glimmering in the air, they galloped to meet again. This time, Vlad ran his spear into the Red Knight's pauldron, nearly having him fall off his horse. He caught on at the last moment, and I could swear I heard Vlad laugh.

They waited a second at the end of the lists, the Red Knight making his shoulder roll, brushing off his coach as he apparently came to make sure he was alright. He sent his his horse full speed at the sound of the horn, his best efforts insufficient to avoid him the lance that crashed into his shield, throwing him back into the dust, almost into the stands, which had a few people stand back.

Without a second look for his adversary, Vlad untied the handkerchief from his lance, and raised his arm in the air in celebration, under the loud cheers of the crowd. He jumped down from the horse, giving the steaming beast an affectionate pat on the shoulder. He walked straight towards me, and took off his helmet. The dark waves of his hair cascaded onto his shoulders, prompting a few audible gasps. I could feel my heart close to beating out of my chest. He was a conqueror, a cocky smile on his lips, the sun playing on his hair and the gold on his armor. He discarded his gauntlets and gloves, leaving them behind in the dust, eyes locked on mine. I stood up, almost knocking over my chair, playing into the role I had been given. He dropped his helmet at my feet with a loud clang of metal, and knelt down. He held up the handkerchief, and I laid my hand on his, allowing him to rise. He gently placed the shawl on my shoulders, lingering along my neck, enough that I could feel my veins pulsing against the tip of his fingers. His eyes hadn't left mine since he took off his helmet, and even under the midday heat, I felt goosebumps spread all over my body. He trailed along my arms, and took hold of both my hands, which he kissed, still not breaking his gaze. My chest heaving, I understood a little bit better why ladies tended to faint more often in corset-wearing time periods.

He then stepped back, leaving the jousting area after a last look, a wink, and a hand gesture at a young groom, who rushed to pick up his discarded pieces of armor after him. A bit overwhelmed, I sat back down, as the presenter closed the event over the cheering of the crowd.

“He wanted it to be a surprise”, Leah told me, eyes glimmering.

“Well, it certainly worked.”

She laughed, and dragged me along to the contender's tents. I caught a glimpse of the Red Knight, armor off. His shoulder had a massive purple bruise, and I couldn't help but wince. I sympathetically smiled at him, and he responded with a little wave. A bit further along, in a white and blue tent, the groom was helping Vlad undo the last pieces of armor, and carefully packing them up in a suitcase similar to the ones that had been Leah and I's dresses. He noticed us and flashed us a smile.

“That was great, Vlad !”, Leah exclaimed, coming up to give him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. “Damn, you didn't even break a sweat, did you ?”

“It takes a lot for that to happen”, he smugly replied, taking off his gambeson.

His shirt was open, and I found myself staring at his chest.

“Is everything alright, Eris, darling ? You seem a bit... hot”, he mocked, slipping on his vest.

“I'm fine”, I replied, looking away from both of them, as Leah seemed to revel in the whole situation.

He buttoned himself up, and I couldn't help but sneak a few peeks.

“Where did you learn to joust anyway, Vlad ?”, Leah asked, understandably curious.

“Well, I enjoy horseback riding, and the Middle Ages, what can I say ?”, he replied as the groom clasped on his livery collar.

The kid looked up to him in awe, which had me a bit suspicious. I narrowed my eyes at Vlad, and stepped closer to him, putting myself so that Leah couldn't see my gestures. I pointed at the boy with a nod, discreetly tapping on my neck. He took an almost wounded expression for a second.

“Eris, I care about my diet, I don't run around taking drinks from stable boys”, he whispered, falsely offended.

I hummed, not entirely convinced, and he draped himself in his cape.

“Aren't you guys hungry ?”, Leah asked, putting down the bracer she was trying on. “I'm starving, and I heard there's a huge buffet in the castle hall !”

“I have to say, I worked up my apetite”, Vlad replied, looking down on me.

I loudly sighed, and took his arm, following Leah outside.

~ ~ ~

The rest of the day was tiring, at least for me, as Vlad obviously didn't ever feel fatigued, and Leah was endlessly fueled by what could only be rainbows and kitten unicorns. Night started falling the sky taking vivid colors as we made our way to the town square, lit by candles and a large bonfire. A band was playing dancing music, and the air was filled with indistinct chattering and laughter. Leah holding onto my arm, Vlad taken in one of his heist stories, my heart felt so full, I was physically unable to stop smiling.

“Oh, I see something that needs my attention”, Leah suddenly exclaimed. “See you later, you two.”

She let go of my arm, freed a few strands of hair to frame her face, and cheerfully strolled to the bar. Her confidence astounded me.

“I like her”, Vlad told me with a little laugh.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Tell me, did you ever get to practice your dancing ?”, he asked, innocently.

“Oh, no.” I tried to get away. “I'm not dancing ! You got me once, but not twice !”

“Oh, I think I am.”

He caught my hand, and brought us close to the fire, indifferent to my protestation. Once arrived, he had me spin around, and brought me back against his chest. Feeling his breath against my neck, I forgot how to speak a second.

“Follow my lead, I promise I will be less... Boorish than last time.”

I groaned, and relaxed in his arms. I had to focus every fiber of my being not to trip on the pavement with my shoes, but Vlad actually supported me so much I felt half my weight was lifted off. I never liked dancing, to be honest. I had a terrible sense of rhythm, and it reminded me awfully of some family gatherings I'd rather forget.

With Vlad, it felt... Different. Not great, mind you, it still was a bit aggravating, but I started to understand why people like it so much. Vlad picked me up like I weighed nothing, and spun me around. I couldn't help but laugh, and he joined me. His eyes were gleaming with the light of the flames. The music faded out to a slower tune. Vlad slowly put me down, keeping a hand on my waist, the other looking for mine. I intertwined my fingers with his, letting him pull me close, trying to breathe away the erratic beating of my heart.

“I can hear that, you know”, he teased.

I pouted at him. “Then close your ears, it's embarrassing.”

“I would rather say endearing.”

I looked up at him. He wanted to look smug, but most of his expression was tender, calm. I could have looked into his eyes for hours, the deep blue, washed over with the bright gold of the fire. Every step, he kept me close, only letting me go to spin me around, slowly, only enough to make the skirt flare. It might have looked beautiful to watch, if we hadn't been the only two people there, dancing around the candles.

“I want you to feel safe, with me.”

His voice was gentle, his gaze, even more so.

“I do”, I told him, moving my hand from his shoulder to cup his face.

He closed his eyes a second, leaning into my palm. I brushed my thumb across his cheekbone. Cold, soft.

“I have come to... care a great deal about you”, he continued.

“I can see that happening, me being a giant, walking Bloody Mary”, I retorted.

“Do you always resort to humor when someone tries to be serious with you ?”

He was smiling.

“I just- I don't know how to respond to that-”

“Then don't.”

He let go of my hand, leaving it placed on his chest, and slid his into my hair.

“You're going to mess up the-”

“I don't care.”

Freeing his arms, he lifted me up. I was so close I couldn't focus on the details of his face. The tip of his nose brushing against mine, his breath, short, trembling. He was waiting, expectantly. Whispered my name. My feet hovering above ground, my heart beating so hard in my chest it was almost painful, I closed my eyes, and- got a phone call.

“It's Leah's ringtone”, I said.

She never called if it wasn't urgent. Vlad put me down, and I glanced around. She was nowhere to be seen, which would explain why she felt the need to call at that exact moment. When I reached my phone through the layers of fabric, it already stopped ringing.

“It's not like her”, I started, starting to get nervous.

“Eris, do not panic”, Vlad told me, his voice somewhat calming my nerves. “She was with someone, wasn't she ?”

I did get a glimpse at her, while we were still dancing. She was at the bar, chatting up a woman in men's period costume.

“Yeah, but not well. She had very long, silver-ish hair, I think. Fair skin.”

If it was possible, Vlad paled, and gripped my shoulders.

“Call her again, now.”

His tone beckoned urgency, and I obeyed immediately. She picked up fast, but her voice didn't greet me.

“She looks so pretty, don't you think ? Better run fast, before it flows out. Garden overlooks, ten minutes.”

The hanging up tone knocked the wind out of my chest, and I almost fell to my knees. Vlad enquired about the call. I didn't even reply, and ran to the bar, asking for a map of the city, almost hysterical. Someone handed me a folded over leaflet. I thanked him, and quickly tried to find my way around the maze of streets. Right, left, left, up stairs, big door, left, and straight across. I tucked the map in the lacing of my dress, and started running, Vlad following without question. I cursed when I almost fell, and slipped off the cursed shoes, running barefoot into the streets. Thankfully, most of the tourists were gone, and no one crossed my way.

“Tell me where to go, I can get there faster”, Vlad told me.

“Garden overlook”, I hissed.

He nodded, and next thing I knew, he vanished. I kept on running, cursing at the corset making my breath short. I don't think I ever climbed stairs that fast in my entire life, and hurried through the huge door, carved into the high walls surrounding the gardens. As I tried to work the handle, to find it locked. Fuck !

Considering the height of the wall, I looked around for another way in. Luckily for me, it wasn't higher than a dozen feet, and I was a decent climber. Hiking up my skirts, I placed a foot on a ledge, and caught on to a space made by a missing brick. As I was almost halfway up, the door creaked on its hinges, and Vlad appeared in the frame.

“What in the name of all things Unholy do you think you are doing ?”, he cursed.

“Finding a solution !”

He urged me to jump down, and I did, leaving him to catch me. Not losing any time, we rushed into the gardens. Left, straight across. I finally found two silhouettes, standing next to the wall, on the overlook. I tried to cry out Leah's name, came out empty. As I arrived, she turned to face me, a look of utter incomprehension on her features. She was fine. Fine ! Panting, I tried to catch my breath. She let go of the other woman's hand, and rushed towards me, putting her hands to the sides of my face.

“Eris, what happened ? What's wrong ?”

What's wrong ? Leah, you- Oh. I can't speak. I tried breathing in, wheezing, and started feeling lightheaded. Vlad's arms wrapped around me, and I noticed I was falling. Going limp, I looked over at Leah. Her lips were moving, yet I couldn't hear her words. I felt a cool hand slip under my bodice, a ripping sound, and air rushed to my lungs. I took a moment to take my breath back, and glanced around. Vlad was holding me, but his look was directed elsewhere. Sitting on the parapet, the woman stared right back. The more I regained consciousness, the more I could make out her features. She was athletic, tall, and had incredibly long, silver hair, gleaming under the moonlight. Her eyes were an icy blue, and her pupils were two tiny specs of light at the center of the iris. A glance, and she terrified me. As I took some of my strength back, I slipped my hand into my skirts, and pulled out my gun. Leah had an exclamation of surprise, and I directed the barrel directly at the woman.

“Oh, Eris”, she laughed. “You must be much more naïve than I thought, to think this would do you any good.”

She hopped off, and started walking toward us.

“And you, too cocky”, I replied, pulling the hammer back, finger on the trigger.

“Carmilla, stop.”

Vlad's voice was much darker than I had ever heard it. I had never heard him angry, and I never really wanted to. The woman, obeyed, standing at a respectable distance from us. I didn't lower my weapon, still leaning against Vlad for support. For once, Leah seemed completely speechless.

“What do you want ?”, he asked, seemingly calm, holding an arm around me.

“What do I want, Drac ?”, she purred, taking a step forward. “Well, for starters, some introductions. If I didn't know you better, I'd almost think you didn't want me meeting your latest pets.”

“Don't”, he snapped at her.

“Fine, your friends, if that's what you call your snacks, these days”, she sighed, shrugging.

“Carmilla, I am giving you one, and only one warning. Leave.”

I felt his hand clench.

“Leave ? I'm not here because I enjoy your company, especially when you're in one of your phases, Drac.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her face taking a deadly serious expression. “I'm here because the Council sends me, because they know I'm the only one who has the slightest chance of making you come to your fucking senses.”

“What I do in my free time is no concern of the Council, which I preside, might I remind you ?”

He spoke through his teeth, seething with anger. His arm coiled tighter around me, almost hurting me.

“That you presided, past tense”, she jabbed. “Since that stupid fucking incident, more than a century ago, you haven't gone to any meeting, any reunion, not even responded to any damn fucking letter ! I had to do your job, while you what ? Sulked and brooded in your castle, and flirted around with mortals ?”

“Do not push me, Carmilla.”

She ran her hands through her hair, grasping at it, and started pacing.

“No, I think I will push you !”, she shouted. “You left us alone, for your own selfish fucking reasons, and the moment you finally decide to get out of your what, ongoing midlife crisis ? You start wreaking havoc, and putting MINA back on our asses, when we spent decades putting them off track !”

“'Wreaking havoc' ? You call going to Renaissance faires 'wreaking havoc' ?”, he snapped with a dry laugh.

“I call butchering mortals by the dozen wreaking havoc !”

She was seething with anger, but her face betrayed a complete, and utter disbelief. She thought it was him too. Vlad seemed to have regained some composure, his grip on me softening as evidence.

“Does everyone here think I am some sort of rabid animal ?”, he asked.

He was met with silence.

“I don't, but again, I don't understand what the fuck is going on”, Leah intervened.

“Well, that's one out of three”, Vlad sneered.

“Are you denying it, Drac ?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am neither an idiot, nor some kind of un-tamed blood-thirsty beast”, he snapped. “I haven't killed anyone in some time, actually, if that's of any interest to you.”

Carmilla seemed to consider Vlad's response. My hand was shaking from holding the gun so long. She threw her hands up.

“Fine. Let's say I believe you.” She stepped forward, glowering at me when I raised the gun again. “I've seen the pictures, I've been to half the scenes. No mortal was behind those murders.”

She suddenly looked worried, and Vlad softly had me lower the gun. A glance at him made me realize he had the same look, which was not reassuring.

“In truth, I wanted to believe it was you”, she admitted. “I didn't want to think about the alternative.”

“It is impossible, though”, Vlad flatly stated. “We made sure of it.”

“Alright, are you ever going to tell us what the fuck is going on ?”, Leah snapped, fists on her hips.

Carmilla turned towards her, lowly hissing.

“What is going on”, Vlad interrupted. “Is that the Elder is back.”

“The Elder ?”, I asked, not sure I really wanted a response.

“He created most of us”, Vlad explained. “I have no idea how old he is, could be millenia. He started going mad, wanting more power, and planned a human genocide.”

“He turned Vlad to be his most powerful weapon”, Carmilla continued. “The legendary Impaler, infused with the strength and unending life of immortals. As for me, I was made by one of the Elder's first creations. As I was apparently the only one figuring out that a world without humans let very little dinner opportunities, I knocked some sense into this one, and we murdered the Elder.”

“Not very well, it seems”, Vlad somberly commented. He held me a bit tighter against him.

“Well, at least, the reason why he came back now is obvious”, Carmilla stated, looking straight at me. “He found the perfect way to torture you.”

She took a pause, and looked up at him, a hint of disappointment behind her cold eyes.

“He finally found someone you love.”

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy @lost-girl-inc

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fialleril · 5 years

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Flash Fic: Bart Delivers

@triscribe, here’s the second ficlet in the Flash family shenanigans ‘verse. Technically, this takes place the night before the first fic, Invitations, but it makes better sense if you read that one first. In which Bart has a very exciting two minutes, and assorted speedsters, Bats, and Rogues are varying degrees of annoyed.

Still working from a mainly comics based ‘verse, but I’m using the versions of Trickster and John Stewart (and his terrifying landlady) from JLU, and I’ve borrowed the idea of Captain Cold having a wife from JLU, as well. (Because, come on, there’s too much comedic potential there to pass up.)

Finished this a lot sooner than I expected, because honestly, Bart is really fun and really easy to write. It’s like stream of consciousness writing. Amazing.

As before, check the tags for more notes!

Bart Delivers

There sure were an awful lot of invitations. It took Bart a whole nanosecond to flip through them and read all the names. Why did Wally and Linda want that many people at their wedding, anyway?

He thought about asking Wally exactly that, but only for a fraction of a picosecond. Wally’s answer for why he was getting married in the first place was “it’s more romantic,” so obviously he wasn’t going to give Bart any serious answers.

Anyway, all these invitations obviously weren’t going to do anybody any good just sitting there on the coffee table. Bart didn’t waste much time wondering why Wally hadn’t just delivered them himself. Sometimes he was just lazy like that. Must be a boring old grownup thing.

Linda wasn’t nearly as boring, and she could actually beat him at Mario Kart sometimes. Okay, most of the time. Really Linda was pretty cool, and Bart figured she would have easily delivered the invitations herself, if she had superspeed. But she didn’t.

So, obviously, it was up to him.

It took him almost a whole second to sort the invites by address, but that was only after he’d dashed out of Wally and Linda’s apartment with the whole stash of them, because sometimes Wally got weirdly particular about things, and Bart figured he was on a roll, he had this, he could get them all delivered in five minutes tops, no problem. Probably faster. Definitely faster. And then that would be one less thing for Wally to be worried about, and that would probably make Linda happy, too, and then maybe they’d both agree to play Mario Kart with him tomorrow, but he’d tell Max it was important Flash business or something and then he wouldn’t have to do any of those weird Speed Force meditation things all day and this was gonna be great.

So great.

Okay, okay, right now he needed to focus, obviously. He’d wasted…wow, a whole half a nanosecond already.

Time to get serious, Bart, he thought, setting his jaw in his best Batman impression. Wally always laughed at him and said it wasn’t a very good impression, but what did he know about a proper Batman impression? He was friends with Nightwing, and yeah, Nightwing was super cool, and also Batman’s first protégé, but he was also a huge goofball who smiled all the time, almost as much as Wally himself did, so obviously he wasn’t very good at imitating Batman. So maybe Bart wasn’t that great either. Whatever. He was definitely better at it than Wally. Or Nightwing. So there.

Hey, speaking of Batman…

He’d put the invites addressed to Gotham on the top of the stack, because everybody knew that Batman had a strict “no metas in Gotham” policy, and Bart knew exactly what that meant.

It meant he was gonna have to be extra super fast and extra super stealthy, and he probably couldn’t afford any snack breaks.

Which sucked, because Linda had gone to Gotham for some report a couple weeks ago and she’d told him all about this pizza place she went to there that would let you combine absolutely any ingredients you wanted and they even had frog legs. Which sounded a little weird, to be honest, but obviously that just meant he would have to try it. For science! Except he couldn’t because it was in Gotham and Batman had that silly rule about metas.

Maybe he could kind of sneak his way in? Ooh, if he went with Linda and pretended to be, like, her intern or something and was really, really careful never to use his speed, maybe Batman would never know?

Except it was Batman, and Wally said that it was usually safest to just assume that Batman knew everything.

Maybe…

No. That wasn’t important now! Time to get serious. This was a serious mission. He was a serious superhero. Everything was very serious.

And besides, he’d already wasted another whole picosecond!

With a very serious and very Batman-like scowl, Bart set off for Gotham at top speed.

It was suitably dark and gritty and yeah, okay, there were kind of a lot of gargoyles, but honestly? He wasn’t that impressed. He’d been here a whole second and delivered three invitations already, and he hadn’t seen even one clown-themed criminal, or any murderous plants either. Not even an exploding umbrella!

Huh. Kind of a rip-off. Maybe Batman really was the scariest thing in this town.

The proximity alarms screamed a shrill alert. Level 5. That would mean someone was already inside the Batcave.

Alfred, just stepping off the lift with a tea tray, blinked. Bruce didn’t.

Neither of them saw anything.

The alarm abruptly died away. Alfred blinked again, and glanced down at his tray. The plate of freshly baked cookies was empty, but in their place was a slightly wrinkled envelope.

Ah.

“Delivery for you, Master Bruce.”

Bart, already on his way out of Bludhaven, licked the last traces of chocolate from his lips. Alfred made the best cookies. Probably that was the real reason Batman didn’t want other supers in Gotham. Bart could respect that. He wouldn’t want to share those cookies, either.

Len Snart wasn’t a man who held many things sacred in life. In fact there was pretty much only one thing he did, and that was late night Sunday dinner with the wife. Janice cooked the best chicken-fried steak in the whole Midwest, and it tasted just as good at 2:00 a.m. as it did at 7:00 p.m.

So he wasn’t feeling too inclined to be forgiving when a gust of wind blew through his dining room, tipping over Janice’s third favorite vase and apparently causing half the mashed potatoes to disappear into the bargain.

He stood with a growl and reached for his cold gun, even though the damn speedster was definitely long gone by now. But Janice’s glare had him holstering the weapon almost before it was drawn.

Right. No weapons at the table. He kept forgetting.

“Sit down, Len,” she snapped. “Can’t we just have a nice dinner for once in our lives?”

Len sat, though not without some grumbling. She was blaming him for that? Really? Damn entitled speedsters.

“That’s quite enough of that,” said Janice, dividing the remaining potatoes between them without any apparent annoyance, or at least, none that wasn’t directed at him. “He’s a growing boy. He needs his vegetables.”

Len stared at her. It took him a little longer than he’d have liked to admit, but he eventually realized she must be right. Flash was a pain in his ass for sure, but the man did have some understanding of boundaries. Impulse, though. That kid thought he could go anywhere he damn well pleased.

Seemed he was pretty well right about that, too, which did nothing to improve Len’s mood.

“Anyway, I think we should go,” Janice was saying.

Len glanced up from his steak. “Go?”

“To the wedding,” said Janice, in the tone of someone who possessed a vast reserve of patience which was, nevertheless, nearly exhausted. “Honestly, Len.”

She waved an invitation in his face, and he snatched it from her with a growl.

It was addressed to Len and Janice Snart, which he had to admit was a nice touch – he’d never gotten a formal invitation that wasn’t addressed to “Leonard,” and he hated that.

Of course, the little face with the tongue sticking out drawn next to his name wasn’t so nice, but that was clearly Impulse’s doing.

So Flash was getting married, huh? That could be a rare opportunity. He could –

“It’s very nice of them to invite us,” said Janice. Her tone made it clear that he would certainly find it nice, if he knew what was good for him. “Don’t you think, dear?”

“Very nice,” said Len, dreams of the perfect heist disappearing like a Flash.

Max Mercury caught the invite before it had even begun to flutter toward the table. “Bart!” he called in the direction of the red and white blur exiting his kitchen. “Remember we have a run tomorrow!”

“I know,” a laughing voice called back, and then the blur was gone.

“Hey Bart!”

“Hi Jesse! Bye Jesse!”

There was the slightest hint of vibration in the air, and then the entire complex array of mirrors collapsed. Sam Scudder blinked. He blinked again. He blinked a third time for good measure.

“Damn it, Flash!”

There was no answer except the faint echo of a rather childish laugh – so not Flash, then, but even worse – and then a somewhat battered envelope fluttered to the floor.

John Stewart wasn’t home, which made what Bart was about to attempt even more dangerous. Wally had told him about John’s landlady. Bart was pretty sure that Wally exaggerated sometimes just to mess with him, but he wasn’t taking any chances with this one. That broom of hers sounded way worse than anything Batman could throw at him.

So this mission called for stealth and extreme cunning. Maybe even theme music.

Humming Mission Impossible to himself at superspeed (he’d watched the original with Linda, and then made Wally and Linda both sit through all of the sequels and remakes), Bart vibrated through John’s wall.

There was a dull crash and he looked down to find a US Marine Corps poster in a splintered wooden frame on the floor.

“Oops.”

Had to work on that vibrating trick. He was not gonna tell Max about this.

“Who’s there?” a furious voice called down the hall. Nope. Now was not the time to worry about John’s posters.

Bart dropped the invite on top of the downed frame and booked it out of there.

Somebody had triggered the pudding canon security system. James could tell, because the level of pudding in the canon was pretty significantly down from full, and he’d just refilled it three hours ago.

He hadn’t seen anybody, though, and there also wasn’t delicious chocolatey goodness all over his walls or even any on the floor. Which meant his visitor was a speedster. They were the only people fast enough to devour his nefarious projectiles before impact. James was a little jealous.

Flasher would have said hi if it was him, though. James was sure of that. Last time the guy dropped by, he even brought a new dartboard!

So it was probably Impulse. James frowned a little to himself. It was too bad the kid hadn’t stuck around, really. He needed someone to test his new meringue-atang on.

He didn’t spot the invitation until he’d already sat on it, and he only found it after that because the whoopee cushion it was resting under was really impressively loud.

James grinned to himself. That Impulse kid had a lot of potential.

Wally was still standing there in the living room, in almost exactly the same place Bart had left him two whole minutes ago. Man, sometimes grownups were weird.

“All done!” Bart chirped. “Feel free to leave Impulse Express Deliveries a generous tip if you’re satisfied with our services!”

A loud, resigned sigh escaped Wally, but Bart noticed he was smiling a little, too. “Here’s a tip for you, kid: next time, ask before you take off.”

Bart scoffed. “Yeah, sure, whatever, next time you go and get married I definitely will.” There was a little laugh from Wally at that. He was kind of a huge sap, really, and Bart knew there wasn’t going to be a next time. “Anyway, you should be congratulating me.”

“Yeah?” asked Wally. “And why’s that?”

“Because I totally broke your record!” Bart crowed gleefully. “In and out of Gotham in three seconds flat! And that includes a trip to the Batcave.”

It looked like Wally actually needed a picosecond to process that. Ha! Take that, Mr. Fastest Man Alive!

Then Wally’s smile turned sly. “You got proof of that, kiddo?”

Bart gasped in outrage. “Delivered your invitations, didn’t I?”

“Sure, sure. Got them all done in two minutes, too, which is pretty impressive.” In spite of himself, Bart beamed at this, but it quickly turned to a scowl when Wally snickered and added, “Doesn’t prove you did Gotham in three seconds, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Bart huffed. “Well, you got any proof that you actually raced the Black Flash to the heat death of the universe?”

Wally looked offended. “Yes. I do. Got Linda back, didn’t I?”

“Sure, sure,” Bart mocked. “Doesn’t prove you actually went to the end of the universe, though.”

For a second Wally almost looked mad, then he burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. You beat my record. You want a medal?”

“Nah,” said Bart, feeling rather magnanimous. “I’ll settle for beating your butt at Mario Kart tomorrow. Oh, and you have to tell Max. You have to tell him how bad I smashed your record.”

“Sure, I’ll tell him. Tomorrow. After I pick you up from your training session.”

“Aw, man.”

“Sorry, kid,” said Wally, ruffling his hair faster than Bart could duck out of his reach. He laughed again at Bart’s scowl. “But, hey, I’ll make you a deal. After I tell Max, we can come back here and Linda can beat both of our butts at Mario Kart.”

“I guess,” muttered Bart. “So…you do believe that I did Gotham in three seconds, right?”

He knew he sounded a little more hopeful and a lot more needy than he ever wanted to admit to, so it was actually pretty decent of Wally that he just grinned and said, “Yeah, I believe you,” and left it at that.

“Well, that’s good,” said Bart, reaching into his pocket. “‘cause if you didn’t, there’s no way I’d give you this.”

The cookie was a little squashed looking, and the chocolate chips were all melty from his speed, but hey, that just made them taste even better, right?

Wally must have agreed, because he lit up like Andy’s Frozen Custard had just announced free all-you-can-eat ice cream for speedsters. “Is that one of Alfred’s cookies?”

“Saved it for you,” said Bart, handing it over and watching it disappear in short order. “Because I’m such a good cousin.”

“You’re the best, Bart,” said Wally, licking chocolate from his fingers.

Bart shrugged modestly. “I know,” he said.

#i write things #flash fic #dc comics #flash family shenanigans #bart allen #wally west #linda park #flash rogues #some more notes / fun comic facts for you:#bart canonically asked wally why he and linda were getting married since they already lived together #and wally honest to god answered with 'it's more romantic'#what a hopeless dweeb #linda and bart regularly play video games together in the comics and it's pretty much the most adorable thing ever #also i don't think this is technically canon but i have a headcanon that wally absolutely sucks at mario kart #people tease him about this all the time; isn't speed supposed to be his thing?#shut up dick it doesn't translate on a gaming system #bart on the other hand literally grew up in vr so he's pretty good at games #still not as good as linda tho #contrary to bart's belief nightwing actually can do a pretty damn good batman impression #it's just generally reserved for criminals and bart's never seen it #i have no idea if the 'no metas in gotham' thing is canon anywhere in comics or just jlu fanon #but it's hilarious either way so i'm rolling with it #as for bart's reference to the heat death of the universe: the black flash is the incarnation of death for speedsters #this one time it decided it was gonna snatch wally but got linda by mistake #and to get her back wally challenged the incarnation of death to a race with the immortal words 'let's boogie'#absolutely iconic #he raced death to the end of the universe where even death dies; grabbed linda from the speed force; then ran back home #as you do

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boneandfur · 5 years

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Restless Farewell [N*FW][1/3]

Summary: Veronique goes to The City That Never Sleeps to recruit a thief, instead she meets a man with whom she can be ordinary with for just one night. But is he really who he seems? // Pairing: Niles Edison (Thief) x THM F!MC // Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ LEMON. By clicking on "read more", you are verifying that you are old enough to be reading this fic. // Words: 2935 // Notes: this is the precursor to the sneak peek I posted. It is canon-divergent in some places, although it sticks to the canon story-line as much as possible The first fic in this series takes place in NYC, the night before MC and Rye meet with Niles Edison aka Eddie Quick in Washington Square Park. I HC the MC to be in their 30s and Edison to be late 40s. It’s full of angst and smut. If you like those two things, proceed! Lyrics are from the song Restless Farewell by Bob Dylan.

Chapter One

New York City is full of ghosts.

The first time Veronique, once known as Alaïs Dègas Lionheart, came to the City That Never Sleeps, she was just five years old. She dreams of it, sometimes: Times Square in winter, ice skates and hot chocolate, her mother dripping with rubies and diamonds, a sheik's ransom. The Nutcracker Ballet, sugar plums and chocolate mice, her father carrying her on his shoulders to the castle in Central Park, a fairy tale of turrets and stained glass windows.

And there are other memories too, darker ones, the kind a child doesn't understand, the kind an adult pushes away. Suitcases of gold bouillon, walking in on her father throwing handfuls of cash in the air as her mother lies on the bed, her mother's bruised eyes and bloody mouth. I walked into a door, ma petit. It was very silly of me.

Yes, the city is full of ghosts tonight.

Veronique walks down the city streets without really looking around, yet somehow her feet seem to know where they are going. She passes Times Square in a blur of color and light, Chinatown, with joss paper in the shop windows, botanicas in the Bronx full of colored saint's candles and Santa Muerte, until she is somewhere near Central Park, standing on the path to the castle.

The leaves whisper in the night, their music borne by the wind. Shhh, shhh. She can hear the song in her head that her father used to whistle as he counted stacks of cash, his blazing head bent in concentration.

"Oh, all the money that in my whole life I did spend / Be it mine right or wrongfully / I let it slip gladly to friends / To tie up the time most forcefully..."

"Daddy?" Veronique whispers, and only the leaves whisper back. Shhh, shhhh.

She forgets she is a criminal mastermind, she forgets she is a thief. She forgets about heists in Monaco, and men with cold, flat eyes who stare at you as they kiss the mouths of their guns. She forgets about Rye, the man she loves like a brother, sleeping like a blameless man back at the hotel before their flight in the morning. There is only Alaïs, the Little Robber Princess, and a man's scratchy voice, singing a poet's song.

"But the bottles are done / We've killed each one / And the table's full and overflowed / And the corner sign / Says it's closing time / So I'll bid farewell and be down the road... "

In the lamplight, the hair is fox-red, and Veronique runs. The man continues down the path, still singing softly. Her hand skims his shoulder, and he turns around. "Daddy?" But it is a stranger's face, craggy and rough and wrong, one eye sewn shut, the other blue as river glass. There is something cunning and strangely hungry in the man's eyes, under the lamplight they flicker for a moment, and Veronique realizes how far she is from the crowds, unable to disappear in plain sight.

Veronique spins on her heel, and runs. Down the path, into the dark forest ramble, branches scraping her arms. She comes out on a well-lit path of cobblestones, with no sign of the man behind her. Despite her sigh of relief, she stills. She can feel someone, watching her from the dark. Waiting. A beat, and Veronique spins around, whipping her fists up, but the inky shadows remain still, seething with the secrets of the night.

•••

Three city blocks later, she hasn't lost her tail. She wonders, for a moment, if it's one of the Rooks following her, but brushes the thought away almost as instantly as it comes. They wouldn't be so amateur.

"Lionheart." That name, the name no one living should know.

Veronique bolts down the nearest alleyway, and bursts out the other side, her lungs burning, just in time to see a black Lincoln with its lights turned off pull up to the curb. The window rolls down, and the long muzzle of a Berretta points straight at her.

Time stills, and her mind goes blank. Lionheart. The last time she saw the two of them, it was snowing in the mountains, the sky a dusky purple from the ambient glow of the city. Her father had promised her a golden nightingale that would sing down the moon, and when her mother's lips brushed across her forehead, the little robber princess pretended to be fast asleep.

"Get back!" Someone yanks Veronique by the wrist right back into the alleyway, hands braced on the brick wall over her head, body pressed up against hers, shielding her from harm. She is afraid to breathe, and all she can feel is his heart thundering against hers, under the cover of darkness. The Barretta aims, and fires, and Veronique bites back a scream as the bullet's impact rains down red brick dust on the pair of them. He grabs her hand, and whispers hoarsely, "Now!"

Veronique doesn't look back, or up at the man pulling her through the shadows, until they are back in the well-lit streets of Times Square. She is shivering, she cannot seem to stop. Lionheart. That name. How could someone know it, after all these long lonely years?

"Alright, luv?" The man turns around, looking down at her, and drops her hand in surprise. "Bloody hell, you're not who -- " he corrects himself "-- you're not what I was expecting."

But who did you expect? Veronique finds herself staring up into the face of a handsome, distinguished older man with dark brown hair gone nearly gray and a trim beard, wearing a brown trench coat and a long dark red scarf. He whips off his glasses, rubbing them with his sleeve, and shoots her a charming smile. His eyes are malachite green behind his glasses, like the pendant she wears around her neck.

There is something dangerous about this man, she thinks -- Something that could make or break an ordinary woman. He holds out his hand to shake.

"The name's Eddie."

She pushes a swath of golden hair behind one ear, and smiles. "Hey."

•••

"You look as though you could use a proper drink. I know I could." Eddie shakes his head in disbelief. "You almost gave me a heart attack back there. Christ! I thought --" but he bites back whatever it is he was about to say.

She's still shaking from adrenaline, her skin buzzing, and she realizes they are so close that they could touch, if they wanted. She wants him to touch her, she realizes. To just feel like an ordinary woman for one night, instead of one who can make or break a man. But she doesn't move away. "A drink sounds fantastic. I'm --" Alaïs. It's on the tip of her tongue, and she wonders, for a brief, unguarded moment, what it would be like to be herself with a stranger, just for one night. "Alaïs."

He raises his brows, giving her an obvious once-over, eyes lingering in appreciation on her legs and breasts. "That's a lovely name -- Alaïs. She was the mistress of Henry the Second." He clears his throat, the distance between them fixed, neither making any move to go off and search for the promised drinks. And then his lips are on hers, the sound of the city falling away in his searing kiss. Her heart rate speeds up, adrenaline pumping through her veins as the kiss deepens, his tongue hot in her mouth as his hands encircle her hips, pulling her flush up against his broad chest.

When they pull apart, Eddie smiles down at her, so softly that Veronique feels her insides fall apart. "How about that drink, then? I know a place..."

•••

The hotel bar is well-appointed, with dark, heavy pre-war furnishings, a relic of a time gone by. They sit at the bar, their knees not quite touching, the air between them heady, thick with desire. Eddie levels a wink at her, and catches the eye of the bartender.

"What'll you have?" Carter, his name tag reads, gold leaf on black plastic. He's blonde, good looking in that slick, clean cut way, and his smile is practiced, white and fake.

"I'll take an Old Fashioned. And for the lady, a gin and tonic, I think. Make sure it's top shelf, proper gin, none of that shoddy Bombay." Eddie pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, dark green gaze locked on hers for a moment. "Did I get it right, then?"

Veronique drops her eyes, then looks up at him from under her lashes. "Make it a gin fizzy."

Eddie hums in approval. "A bird of refined tastes, you are."

"Citrus Pay, sir, if you'd like to open a tab?" Carter returns with the drinks, bringing out a tablet, and Eddie recoils, a look of disgust crossing his features.

"I don't go in for none of that bloody newfangled garbage. Cold hard cash, that's what we paid with back in my --"

Carter rolls his eyes. "Very well, sir. Some of our older guests prefer to pay the old fashioned way, if that's what you prefer." He slides the Old Fashioned towards Eddie, mouth trembling as he tries to hide his amusement. "And for the lady, a Tanqueray gin fizzy, garnished with a fair-trade organic lime wedge, raw unrefined pink turbindo sugar on the rim, hand ground and imported from --"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "You're not on the pull, mate, you're just serving the lady a drink. No need to slather it on."

Carter rolls his eyes. "Very well, sir. Signal me if you need another, Old Fashioned."

Veronique plucks at Eddie's sleeve before he can give the bartender a piece of his mind. She nods to a low-lit booth with a chessboard. "Care to place a wager?"

Eddie's eyes light up in appreciation at the swing in her hips as she brushes past him, his eyes raking her up and down. "As long as it doesn't involve any of that bloody modern claptrap, I'm all in, luv."

•••

"Lady's choice." Eddie sets up the board so fast that her head spins. His knees brush hers under the table, and her pulse speeds up erratically, craving each seemingly innocuous touch. "Black or white?"

His hand lifts the hem of her skirt, caressing her just above the knee. Not so innocent after all. "Black."

He raises a brow, sipping his drink thoughtfully. "A lady who likes to live dangerously, I see." Surveying the chess board, he moves a white pawn two spaces. "And I suppose this wager of yours is dangerous too?"

Veronique takes a slow sip of her gin fizzy, seductively licking the foam off her lips, and watches as his pupils enlarge. "You'll have to play the game to find out."

Eddie inhales sharply as she scoots to the very edge of the seat, parting her legs and moving his hand further up her thigh. "Oh, I intend to." His eyes are locked on hers as she mirrors his move, pawn before the king going two spaces forward. He moves another pawn two spaces forward. "So what brings you to New York, Alaïs -- business or pleasure?" His hand slides up her thigh.

Alaïs. The name gives her heart a funny little twist, and she realizes she hasn't heard it spoken aloud by another person for almost thirty years. "I could ask you the same thing." Veronique plays with the malachite pendant around her neck, drawing his eyes to her cleavage. "But tonight... It's pleasure."

Eddie is fighting back a smile. "Are all American birds these days as cheeky as you?"

Veronique leans forward, long blonde hair brushing the chessboard, and asks in a husky whisper, "And just how long has it been since you've been in New York City?"

He leans forward, their faces mere inches apart, his lips brushing against her ear, the sound of his English accent making her throb between the legs, like the beat of her heart, aching, wanting. "Too goddamned long enough."

She turns her cheek, and his lips ghost across hers, the sensation of his stubble on her flesh causing her to inhale sharply, a tiny, yearning moan escaping her. "Eddie."

He leans back, but his gaze never leaves hers. "You're not bloody cheeky, luv, you're downright dangerous."

That I am. She thinks of the malachite pendant around her neck, sharpened to a point.

All thieves live by a code of honor, my little robber princess, her father's voice whispers down the years. Never kill a man just to kill him, for it will always come back to haunt you. But if you need a friend, this stone is your best bet. Lick it and stick it, it'll work like a charm. Keep it close, and it may save your life. But I hope to hell that day never comes.

Instead of answering, Veronique pulls Eddie's hand right to the apex of her thighs, hot and slick, craving his touch; and with her other hand, makes a move on the board, leaving her queen open.

His fingers brush the thin strip of fabric, feeling how wet she is. He growls, his voice dark and rough. "What's the wager? We never said."

"That we both win tonight." She slides backwards in the booth, away from his hand, her heart hammering like mad. She must be crazy, she must be foolish, but she doesn't care, she wants -- "Eddie."

"Right, then." He drains his drink and then throws some cash on the table, holding out a hand. "Shall we?"

•••

They've barely stepped into the elevator when Eddie spins her around, pressing her up against the wall in a hard kiss. His hands glide up her thighs, cupping her ass, and she rocks against him, moaning as his fingers skim over the damp fabric of her underwear with the lightest pressure, teasing her clit.

Eddie grunts as Veronique bites his shoulder, and all of a sudden the elevator dings. They break apart, disheveled and erect in all the wrong places. Eddie adjusts his trousers as a dark-haired man with an arrogant look steps into the elevator, followed by a pixie-haired blonde girl who looks as though she's smelled something bad.

"The ground floor, bellhop," the dark haired man says to Eddie with a peevish air, and turns to the girl. "I didn't know the Waldorf-Astoria was hiring riff-raff these days. I'll have to have a talk with the owner."

"Oh, Uncle Antoine, don't be such a snob," the girl says. "Like... Oh. Em. Gee!"

"This is your stop, mate," Eddie says with a grimace, slamming the emergency stop button. "'Fraid the elevator's closed for maintenance." He shoulder checks Antoine on his way out, and pushes him and his niece from the elevator into the hall, the pair of them spluttering with indignation. "Stairs are that way, guv."

"I'm leaving a one star review on Yel--" Antoine is cut off as the elevator door slides shut, and Eddie turns back to Veronique, a smug grin on his face. "Now, where were we?"

She can't be sure, but when she's sure, she's sure. Eddie has just picked both their pockets. A dangerous man, indeed.

"Right... here." She tugs on his hand, and notices that there's a slight indent on one of his fingers, where a ring used to be. He can't be married, she frets in her head. But she can't be bothered to worry about it for long, because when Eddie kisses her, firmer than the first time, it feels more meaningful, more right. Like calls to like. It only makes sense that it would take a thief to make her come tonight.

Eddie's mouth on hers is hot, her nipples are aching for his touch and as he begins rolling one nipple between his fingers, her brain short-circuits and goes blank. There is only this -- his slow, measured kiss, stretching out the pleasurable sensations happening elsewhere in her body. There's the way he tastes, like brandy and citron, and the sound of his deep growl as his hand slides between her legs again.

It takes her nearly a full minute to realize she's no longer wearing underwear. He must have stolen them. A rush of heat throbs between her thighs, and the sound of his fingers slipping in and out of her slick, wet folds causes the coil of heat to tighten inside of her, harder and harder, biting her bottom lip as his mouth moves down her neck, sucking and nibbling a path to her nipples. The door starts to open, and Eddie slams on the floor button with his free hand.

"I can't tell you how goddamned beautiful you are," he whispers into her ear. "Because words can't express it."

Veronique is panting now, unable to catch her breath, and when he swirls his fingers rapidly over her clit, she comes hard and fierce, right then and there.

"Eddie! Oh, fuck!" Veronique's hips buck uncontrollably, riding the intense wave of her orgasm. He sucks one nipple into his mouth and she screams his name, her legs nearly giving way as she collapses against him, his mouth claiming hers in a hard, possessive kiss.

"Let's get you to bed, luv." Eddie strokes her cheek with the back of his hand. "Because I plan to shag you until you can't walk for a week."

"Hurry," she moans.

She's never seen a man slam the elevator buttons so fast in her life.

•••

Tag list will be in comments section since they seem to only work half the time.

#angst #lemon #thm #the heist: monaco fic #niles edison x mc #long post

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lonelypond · 6 years

Text

Santa Cutie and The Christmas Cookie Queen, Ch. 6

Love Live, NicoMaki, 10K, 6/6

North Pole (Nishikino) Invasion

Nico had a plan. Well, two plans. One was the well scripted plan to razzle dazzle the execs watching her audition, the other, well, the ingredients for the other were safely stashed in her dad’s military duffle, underneath layers of clothes, her makeup kit and a few essential tools. The target of that plan was sitting in the driver’s seat of Umi’s sedan, merrily humming Christmas tunes as she vroomed along 20 miles an hour over the speed limit. Between them, Kotori and Nico had managed to distract Umi for the length of the trip. So they were making good time, had a solid script and there had been no incidents of road trip grumpy. So far, so good. Nico glanced at Kotori who was showing Umi pics from Honoko’s date prep. Kotori nodded and flashed the ok sign.

Maki half turned her head and smiled, “We’re almost there. It’s not really an exit, there’s an access road we use.”

Nico frowned, “So no toll? That’s legal?”

Maki shrugged. Of course, Nico asked questions, Nico was a reporter. Rin had texted that Eli had found out about the reporter thing and that was adding to her freakout, which was making extra problems for Nozomi. Rin was worried.

“Nico.” Maki hesitated, “Could I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, if Nico can help you, I will.” Nico was curious, Maki’s mood having gone from festive to furtive.

“Don’t ask too many questions.” Immediately, Maki regretted her phrasing. It made it sound like she had something to hide, which she kind of did, but only because of Eli and tradition, not because Maki didn’t trust Nico. Maki stumbled out another attempt, “I mean, can we just focus on your video. It’s a really busy time and…”

Nico sounded a little subdued, “Nico appreciates your using your family resources to help.”

“I want to help,” Maki and the car leapt forward, “It’s not that I don’t tr...it’s just…” Maki frowned, “Eli.”

“Who is Eli?” Nico asked.

Head Elf was not a title Maki could offer her current listeners so she went with the best analogy she could think of “Eli’s North Pole Nishikino’s Chief Operating Officer. She’s very involved in day to day operations, especially this time of year.”

Nico’s laugh brayed, “You’re sneaking Nico in…”

Maki coughed and yes, the car might have swerved slightly, so now Maki could feel Umi paying close attention as well, “Not exactly…”

Nico poked Maki on the arm, “Will you or will you not get in trouble if you get caught showing Nico around the place.”

Maki didn’t want to take her hand off the wheel, partly because she couldn’t decide whether to rub the spot where Nico poked her or fidget with her hair.

Umi leaned as far forward as her seatbelt allowed, “Is this true, Maki? Is helping Nico breaking any rules?”

Maki floored the gas and Umi paled, “It’s my company, I can do what I want, Eli is NOT the boss of me.”

Nico swallowed back a snigger at Maki’s borderline adult disclaimer.

Maki expelled a loud breath. “Please let me deal with that.” Lavender eyes flashed briefly at Nico, “It’s not a problem, Nico, really. Trust me.”

Nico’s answer was instant, “Of course, Nico trusts you.”

Having said that she trusted Maki, Nico could think of nothing else to compare the ongoing discussion to than a heist film. They had pulled off onto the access road, made a couple of quick turns on a suddenly foggy road and parked outside a cosy chic diner. The staff just waved at Maki as she made her way into a horseshoe shaped booth in the back, where two women were sitting. One was almost as tiny as Nico, ginger haired, and as busy as a hummingbird’s wings. The other was taller, sedate, with long, dark, purple tinted hair and a knowing smirk.

“MAKI!” the slim ginger rushed Maki, hugging her so hard Nico heard all the redhead’s breath whoosh out.

“Rin.” Maki’s voice hit a whine of complaint even as she tolerated Rin hugging her. Then Rin dodged around Maki, who whirled suspiciously as Rin approached Nico, hand out.

“Hi, Nico! I’m Rin, Maki’s best friend. Nozomi showed me your catching on fire video.” The dark haired woman waved at Nico.

Maki grabbed Rin’s collar and threw her back toward the booth, “Ignore them.” Maki slid into the booth, “Where’s Hanayo?”

“She’s meeting us in a half an hour.” Rin said, checking her phone. “She didn’t want to leave the reindeer waiting. They get restless.”

Maki nodded, as the confusion of the three visitors increased. Nico slid in next to Maki, Umi and Kotori across the table, next to Nozomi. Rin bounced happily in the middle.

“We’d better order lunch.” Maki handed menus around, “Once we get inside, faster is better.”

Nico wandered through the trees, glad she’d listened to Maki and dressed for outdoor travel. Cocoa’s snow sneakers fit well enough. The air wasn’t that cold, but there was an extra wintry chill and sparkle to it, Nico almost felt like she was walking on the set of a Modern Holiday Classic™. Bells tinkling in the distance, then nearing as hooves could be heard clomping through the snow only added to the effect. Maki was talking to Rin, hands drawing plans in the air. She paused to wink at Nico once. A sleigh drawn by two antlered reindeer appeared, a small, smiling woman at the reins, fair hair covered by a flap eared knitted cap.

“Kayo-chin!” Rin ran up to the driver, pushing herself up on the sleigh and kissing her cheek. Rin then came forward to pet the reindeer. “Hi, Hyuna, Hi, Hyeri” Then she pointed at the crowd behind Maki. ”This is Nico and Umi and Kotori, Kayo-chin.” Rin announced.

Hanayo waved, one hand still on the reins. Maki realized they’d be jammed in the sleigh, but it should work. “We’ll load up here, and then head to the Studio’s loading entrance.”

“I’ll run back and open the back doors.” Rin sprinted off with a wave.

The driver twisted around to yell, “Be careful, Rin!” but Rin was already out of sight.

Maki waved Nico forward, “Nico, this is Hanayo, Rin’s fiancee and one of my oldest friends. She takes care of the reindeer herd.”

“Nice to meet you.” Nico smiled.

Hanayo acknowledged the response with a quick nod, but she was already thinking about other matters, “If you just hand Nico in, Maki, I think we can fit everyone.”

“Yeah, and Nozomi should have had enough of a headstart.” Maki stepped closer to Nico, hands reaching out, “May I?”

Nico murmured agreement as Maki’s hands settled on her waist and boosted Nico high enough that she could climb into the sleigh. Hanayo clucked at the reindeer, encouraging and steadying them. Umi stepped forward with Kotori, first handing the luggage to Nico, then following Maki’s motions, then jumping in to sit next to Kotori. Maki slid in next to Hanayo and the driver gave the reindeer the go ahead. Nico enjoyed the ride, trees seemed to bounce past them, sunlight sparkling through snow and ice crystals, bells in the air, music in the distance...she watched as Maki leaned forward, relaxed, a huge grin on her face as the sleigh continued deeper into the woods. From every angle, her pose read “Home.” Nico had never seen the redhead so calm. Maybe it was the trees. Or the cool. She remembered @SantaChan’s anti air conditioned cool rants in July and August. Maybe being in the mountains kept things cooler year round...made sense. Nico made a mental note to ask Maki on the drive back to Tudor.

Nozomi considered, biting her lip and staring at her reflection in the mirror. The wrap dress clung attractively in all the right places, but if Eli was already in a bad mood, Nozomi dialing up the flirty would only freeze the atmosphere between them. But the NorthPole Nishikino branded cardigan, though warm, made Nozomi feel frumpy. She shook herself, this was for Maki. Plus, Eli always smiled when she saw Nozomi sporting the company logo. Frumpy feel goods for Nozomi’s maybe more than friend, while Maki did a HUGE favor for hers. That would have to do. Red wasn’t Nozomi’s best color either, not even top 3, but this was for a good cause. Nozomi put her arms in the cardigan, buttoned the middle button and prepared to brave Eli’s office with her crisis.

Now, Nozomi cared too much about her job and the people she worked with to CREATE a crisis, however, she had developed a habit of postponing resolving a crisis that involved paperwork in case Eli needed a break from people management. Yesterday, handily, the payroll system had glitched, not acknowledging shift differentials and completely losing track of overtime hours, which at this time of year would not only mess with pay, but have a serious impact on bonuses. So real, not manufactured crisis, and while Nozomi was better at fixing face to face problems, no one could keep up with Eli when she trained those laser blues on an administrative problem. This one was knotty enough that it should give Maki and Rin the time they needed to get Nico in and out, if Nico was any good at her job, and everything Nozomi had found out indicated she was.

Nozomi gave herself one last check in the mirror, reluctantly leaving the mistletoe pin out of the ensemble. Eli was starting to get a twitch whenever she saw anything green and Nozomi was starting to regret that particular directive.

The sleigh pulled up in back of a huge building as Rin was sliding a wall open. Maki jumped down, grabbing Nico’s duffle and box of tools and dumping them into Rin’s arms. Then she offered a hand to Nico, who let Maki assist her in stepping down. Kotori and Umi followed.

Hanayo turned the sleigh in a careful circle around everyone. “I have to settle Hyuna and Hyeri, Maki, then I can help.”

“That’s fine, Hanayo.” Maki waved.

“See you soon, Kayo-chin.” Rin shouted over her shoulder as she bowed under the weight. Maki grabbed Nico’s duffle and bounded into the studio. Nico, Umi and Kotori stopped at the entrance, awed by the size and the tech neatly arranged around a pristine kitchen, decorated for Christmas with miniature tinsel tossed trees and snowmen.

“I hope you were planning on a Christmas theme; it’s kinda all we do around here.” Maki waved an arm, “Welcome to North Pole Nishikino. Let me know what you need.”

”But hurry.” Rin muttered, Maki shoved her, shushing, as she watched Nico wander onto the expansive set, eyes wide.

“Nico thought you were going to be impressed with our studio. Silly Nico.” Nico glanced at Umi, who was torn between sadness at Honoka missing this opportunity and relief that she wouldn’t have to monitor Honoka’s behavior with equipment this expensive.

Maki paused as she carried Nico’s duffle to the island, to whisper in Nico’s ear, “I was impressed with you.”

Nico almost blushed, but immediately started to bustle before she could get off track. “Rin, can you take Kotori somewhere I can change so she can lay out my outfit and makeup.”

Rin took Kotori and the duffle bag off, Kotori shepherding carefully the garment bag that held Nico’s change of clothes.

“Nico will set up here. Did Rin get the ingredients I needed?” Nico began to unpack her kitchen box.

“Yeah, she said everything’s in the cabinets under the island, unless it’s refrigerated.” Maki pointed.

“Thanks, Maki. Can you show Umi the control booth while Nico sets up. And who’s going to run the cameras?”

Umi suddenly tensed, “Kotori can, I guess. Two cameras would be great though, if there’s a hand held.” Umi looked to Maki who nodded. ‘Closeups would be helpful.”

“We can position a camera to focus solely on the cooking, if that helps. And RIn and Hanayo can run cameras. W....they made a lot of goofy videos as kids.”

“They…?” Nico asked.

Maki kicked her boot, “Um...”

Nico laughed, “Thanks, Maki. This is amazing. I need a half an hour for prep, Umi, then I’ll get changed and we can get started.”

Umi nodded approval, “That sounds like a good plan. Maki can help me familiarize myself with the equipment while you get ready.”

“Maki is the best host.” Nico blew a kiss at Maki, missing the raging blush when she ducked under the counter to start pulling out ingredients.

“Eli.” Nozomi let herself stagger a little, eyes wide, breath rapid. Eli patted the shoulder of the elf she was in conversation with and turned her attention to the interruption.

“Did something happen? Are you okay?” Eli smiled, hand reaching toward Nozomi’s back. Eli actually seemed in a fairly good mood. Nozomi hesitated, but only briefly. Maki was no good at improvising. Nozomi would have to see this through.

“Payroll.” Nozomi kept her voice even and efficient. “The system’s screwed up. It’s not reflecting shift differentials and two weeks worth of overtime has disappeared. If we can’t find a way to restore the information, we’ll have to go through the schedule and time cards and walk Aditha in IT through what we need.”

“Don’t worry, Nozomi, this happened last month. Once we figure out who’s affected, it’s an easy fix. I had Aditha code a workaround if it ever happened again.” Eli hugged Nozomi with one arm. Nozomi started to wonder why Eli was taking this so well.

“Ummm...Eli.” Nozomi leaned her head on Eli’s shoulder, “you seem in a good mood…”

Eli grinned, “Maki decided to come back.”

Nozomi stopped, choosing her words carefully, “You saw her?”

Eli shook her head, eyes glittering, ease in her walk, “No, but now that she’s back, we can get over all this motorcycle-reporter-overspending nonsense and lock in on a successful Christmas Eve.”

“Eli.” Nozomi’s voice rang in the hall.

“Yes?”

“How do you know Maki’s back?”

“After the accident, I activated the Santa Tracker.” Eli stated. “It can track anyone who’s using the NPP app. Maki’s been mostly testing the Santa Sack™. I look forward to hearing her evaluation.”

“Eli, you can’t do that.” Nozomi found herself shouting, hands in front of her, trying not to shake Eli. “She’s not a lost 2 year old.”

“What if she had another accident? We’d be glad to know where she was then.” Eli shrugged off Nozomi’s ire.

“Did you inform her that you took this action?” Nozomi was calmer, not less angry, but quieter anger.

Another shrug, “Let’s go fix your problem, Nozomi. Then maybe we can sit down to dinner?”

“Oh, Eli. My problem is nothing compared to the one you have.” Nozomi turned away, “You’ll have to do the payroll fix on your own. I have an errand to run.”

Maki printed out a copy of the script Nico and Umi had worked so hard on during the ride here. As she read through it, Maki could see Nico winking and smiling. She half spun her seat and started playing something on her mini midi keyboard. She followed the music scrolling across the screen, watching the time as she listened through the headphones loose around her ears. One quick replay, a click at 15.7 seconds, a change in chords and she handed the headphones to Umi. “Think Nico will like this? I recorded an intro.”

Umi listened, one hand cupped around an earpad, eyes closed. A finger roll indicated Maki should repeat the loop. Then Umi opened her eyes, “That’s perfect. Nico will love it.” Umi handed the headphones back. “Thank you, Maki.”

Maki grunted and went back to her keyboard, “Do you want one piece for transitions or multiple?”

Umi remembered courting Kotori, searching all over Baltimore for a specific fabric that Kotori needed to complete an outfit, patiently running errands during the long nights Kotori spent working on her first costume design job for a short film, driving 10 minutes out of her way to bring Kotori her favorite coffee and pastry the week before filming. Practical romance. Being helpful while distracting yourself from the sensations being near the woman you wanted engendered.

“I think one, but we should ask Nico.”

Maki nodded, glancing to where Nico was explaining to Rin how she wanted the shots to look. Nico hands flew over the countertop as she demonstrated. Maki thought it was probably a relief that Rin did everything nearly as fast as Nico. Anyone else might have been lost. But both Umi and Kotori seemed to exist in a lower gear and they kept up. Maki wouldn’t want Nico to slow down at all for her, Nico’s vibrancy promised adventures Maki wanted to share.

Umi had a different thought, “Nico, remember, slow down a bit for the audience. They won’t be able to follow along at full speed.”

“Thanks, Umi.”

Nico hadn’t changed yet. Maki was getting restless, curious about what Nico would wear, if her lips would have a blizzard of snow or be dusted with gold. Underneath the restlessness was concern about Eli finding out about this and lecturing Maki about misuse of corporate resources IN FRONT of Nico. Maki cringed in advance embarrassment at that image, hitting a wrong note and drawing Umi’s attention.

Nico shouted, “Don’t let anyone touch anything. I’m going to go get dressed.”

Umi flashed a thumbs up. Maki put her headphones on, knocking out three quick, merry pieces while thinking about what Nico and peppermint and biting into crispy Snickerdoodles would sound like. A woodwind, with a quick piano chord and a snappy snare for the crunchy flavor. Or maybe cinnamon was more of a sax?

Nico was a blur around the set, doing a dry run before she worked with the actual ingredients. Maki took out her phone and snapped a quick picture from where she was sitting behind her laptop tweaking tempos based on Nico’s pace, which was at least three times as fast as Maki could do anything without the added boost of an engine. She considered posting it on TWIG, which reminded her she’d never gotten a reply from @StormCookie. A check showed no response still and no new posts from @StormCookie. Maki saved the Nico photo and snapped a quick shot of the music on her laptop captioned with “Setting a Christmas mood for a surprise project.” Usually, @StormCookie responded within a day, but it was her business blog so maybe she was taking the weekend off. Maybe she was talking to her cute girl again. Maki smiled and leaned forward, chin propped on her hands as Nico did a twirl, singing a chorus of “Jingle Bells.” Just being in the same room with Nico was enough to get a buzz, Maki thought. Nico had enough energy to fill even this space. Maki wondered if she’d ever attempted to break into a bigger market than Tudor. It might have been hard for Nico to leave her family. Cocoa and Cotaro had told Maki how Nico had taken care of them even when she was attending to college.

“Hey, Maki!” Nico called out and Maki jumped back from her meandering train of thought to see the dark haired beauty waving to her, “Play that intro bit again, Nico wants to work on a dance.”

Maki nodded and swept the cursor to that part of the music. Nico’s foot tapped along, head nodding to the beat.

Suddenly Nico was heading toward Maki, arms out, “Maki’s amazing. This’ll help prove Nico is the consummate professional. I can’t thank you enough.” Nico’s lips were a deep red with small flecks of silver and Maki was breathless, heart rate thrumming like a mambo beat, watching them come closer. Then Nico was hugging her, another kiss on the cheek, but Nico’s lips lingered as she whispered, “I can’t thank you enough, Maki.”

When Nico pulled back, Maki’s hands were clasped in her lap so she didn’t rub her cheek or twist her hair. The redhead had a slight blush and was looking past her laptop, “Hey, Nico?”

“What is it?” Nico leaned into Maki, enjoyed the proximity, resisting the temptation to play with Maki’s hair and almost paying attention to the music.

“If you get the job, where would you go?” Maki tapped a few keys but as far as Nico could tell, it was just random motion.

“Oh, the network HQ is located in Brooklyn, but Nico would only have to fly in for meetings. The pitch is for Nico to produce things remotely at first...we’d find someplace in Tudor to rent, you don’t have to worry about that. Nico wouldn’t be needing to bother you again.” Nico glanced around, “This place is amazing though. What do you film here?”

Maki shifted and Nico let her hand drop to her side as Maki moved swiveled her stool, amethyst eyes not as bright as they’d been, “Safety videos, news updates, we have a half hour morning and midnight show that covers local and corporate stories.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Nozomi says it’s good for morale. She interviews people, takes lots of video footage. She and Rin go to toy conventions and things like that.”

“That’s one of the things Nico likes best about the job, interacting with people, getting them to tell Nico their stories.” Nico’s eyes gleamed as she tapped out a rhythm on Maki’s shoulders, “When Nico has her own show, so many people will clamor to spend some one on one time with the number one interviewer on the air.”

Maki tensed, half closing her laptop and standing abruptly, “I’d better check on Umi.”

“She’ll be fine.” Nico was puzzled by the disruption in the friendly mood she’d been building, “She’s still riding the relief at not having to herd Honoka through all this expensive equipment.”

Maki chuckled, her momentary begrudging of Nico’s popularity dissipated, “It’s been Rin proofed, Honoka would have been fine.”

Nico shook her head, “You weren’t there when she took out the power for 58% of the lower Susquehanna Valley while trying to get in the air video at a hot air balloon event. We had a private ambulance on call for awhile after that. Umi still almost screams if she sees a kid with a balloon.”

“Ha.” Maki flicked Nico’s shoulder, “That’s nothing to the Christmas Eve Rin let the reindeer loose and all of our European deliveries ended up 6 hours behind schedule...everyone was wrangling reindeer and no one could find Rin and Hanayo nearly split in two with worry. Papa said...” Maki froze when she saw the off look in Nico’s eye, curiosity wrestling with suspicion….”um” Maki flailed, physically and verbally, suddenly seeing Eli’s icy glare if Nico started asking questions about Christmas “....we were like 5 and I didn’t really understand what was going on...or what day it was…or...”

“What’s up?” Rin bumped Maki’s side. “I’m ready. Umi’s REALLY cool and Kotori says we should add a darker green to the delivery uniform. Where’s Kayo-chin?”

Nico turned, watching Rin closely as she spoke, “Maki was just telling me about letting all the reindeer out and the delivery delays…”

Maki was behind Nico making frantic “no” signals, crossing her forearms, frowning, and willing understanding into Rin. A puzzled Rin shrugged, “Yeah, no biggy, things are really crazy around here every year before S...:”

Maki practically bowled Rin over with Nico when she pushed the smaller woman toward the set, “Let’s get started. We promised Nozomi we’d be fast.”

“Yeah, we did.” Rin ran back to her camera.

“All right.” Nico frowned, which Maki couldn’t look away from, “Nico is not here to ask questions, Nico is here to catapult to the next level, with the kind assistance of the wonderful Maki.” Nico blew a kiss to Maki, who didn’t notice as she was too focused on whispering to Rin.

“Just forget I mentioned the reindeer thing. We don’t want Nico finding out too much.” Maki felt her heart drop as she said that. Why couldn’t she share everything with Nico? Nico was at least a friend....Maki glanced at Nico, who was making sure the placement of everything was exactly where they’d put spike tape, maybe more when this craziness was over and Maki had a minute to talk to her. But for now it was best to stay focused on helping Nico get her video segment done for tomorrow, and figure out anything else later. Maki shoved her hands deep in her pockets, standing a little apart from Rin, trying to get lost enough in Nico’s smile and snappy patter to forget the urge to pull Nico aside, outside, away from everyone, deep in the pine trees, and just…her imagination stopped there, with Nico brushing a kiss on her cheek, one hand on her forearm. Wait, why did it have to stop there. Wait, Nico was calling her name, why, how long had she zoned out for?

“Maki?” Nico had paused. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry, what do you need?”

“Can you play the intro for Nico.”

“Sure.” Maki rushed back to her laptop, made sure the speakers were connected and started the music.

Nico held up a hand, “Let Nico countdown from 5. Please.”

“Yeah, Maki. Do your job.” Rin stuck out her tongue.

“Sorry.” Maki hung her head, reminding herself of important things: Take a deep breath. Do things in the right order. Listen to Nico. Don’t get distracted. If Rin starts sniggering, ignore her.

Nico glanced up to where Umi was sitting behind a bank of consoles, “I think the local talent is good to go, Umi. Are you ready?”

Umi’s voice came over the sound system. “We’re good to go whenever you are, Nico. Kotori’s got the sound levels all set. We’ll adjust if anything spikes.”

“All right. Let’s get started.” Nico shook herself, then looked straight into the fixed camera. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1....”

Maki hit play. Nico twirled and came out of it right as the music faded. “Want to impress a girl? Polish your cookie making game? Nothing like ginger spice to put a little snap in your dating life.” Nico stopped. “Hey, Umi, could we drop in a gif of Ginger Spice there or would that be too much?”

Umi sounded like a stormy goddess, hailing hesitation from above. “I don’t think we have the time to find and edit in gifs, Nico.” Some static, then a break in the clouds, “I could do a pop up video type of thing pretty quickly, just to give the idea of what we might do with a longer deadline.”

“Good idea.” Nico hummed, “I’ll take it from the top.” There she was flying three times faster than everyone as she returned to her starting place. “Ready, Maki?”

“Ready.”

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”

Maki had almost forgotten to swipe back to the start, but Nico’s countdown gave her enough time to recover from that near blooper. Maki would be glad to go back to working on something linear after this. Nico’s back and forth, switching near instantly from onstage charisma to off stage competence was making Maki dizzy.

After a few more false starts, they were finally in a flow. Nico had the wet ingredients mixed and was about to measure out the flour when two doors flew open simultaneously, the sliding door clanging in the back of the studio and the double door whooshing open in the front. Rin had obviously forgotten to tell Umi where the “LIVE” switch that activated the red warning lights was. A gust of wind blew in with Hanayo and suddenly Nico was blustering and covered in very fine white flour. Hanayo screamed, Maki’s mouth fell open and Rin nearly fell to the floor laughing. Nico was in a bright red dress with a bold white stripe that suddenly became a snow covered clothingscape. Then there was a bellow. Eli’s voice. Damn.

“What the hell is going on here, Rin? Maki? Who authorized this?” Eli’s rush to the scene had also caught her in the flour shower, but she brushed it off her white suit jacket. Her voice drilled through the surprised incoherencies of Umi and Nico.

“Hi, Eli.” Maki waved.

“Maki.” Eli was nose to nose with Maki, the minuscule height advantage somehow magnified by her rising indignation.

Nico was suddenly in between them, “Maki’s helping me.”

Eli looked down her nose at Nico, but somehow, it wasn’t nearly as effective as Eli intended it to be, “You shouldn’t even be here, Yazawa.”

How do you know…” Nico spun to face Maki, “Did you tell her about me on your date? I saw you downtown…”

“DATE!?!?!??!?!?!?!!!!” Maki and Eli tried to outshout each other; Rin actually did fall onto the floor and started rolling back and forth, laughing hysterically until she bumped Maki, who kicked her to the side, there was a chair being shoved back into the wall sound over the speaker, followed by a “What’s going on? Kotori, stop recording,” and Hanayo stood blinking apologetically in the middle of the open wall.

Maki stuttered, not even sure where to start, totally ignoring Eli to focus on a Nico, who in a less serious mood would be looking like a ridiculous and adorable sugar dusted cookie but right now, seemed actually to be mainlining manic murderous snow person, red eyes dangerously lit. “N...Nico...I...I wasn’t...no one is...nobody’s...Eli…”

“No,” Rin was practically choking, “you don’t mean nobody, Maki, you mean No...zomi.”

“Well, hello everybody.” Nozomi’s voice trilled from the door, “I see Eli beat me here.”

Eli’s turn to spin, confronting a Nozomi who’d ditched the company cardigan, “You knew about this?”

“Of course I did, Eli. People trust me.” Nozomi smirked at Maki and shook her head at Rin. Hanayo crouched next to Rin, who was now on her back, staring at the ceiling, still vibrating with laughter.

“People trust me.” Eli countered.

“People trust you to do your job, Eli, not consider their feelings.” Nozomi sighed, petting Eli on the arm, “Because you don’t. You don’t even consider your feelings.”

“My feelings are” Eli pulled back, sounding choked up, “that no one cares about the things I work so hard to protect.”

“Elichi is cheating.” Nozomi blew out a thin stream of air, too aware of how Eli’s eyes were pleading for support.

Maki wasn’t that polite, bulldozing into their moment. “I care. I just know I can trust Nico.”

Nico was about to say something, but Maki’s raw honesty derailed her as she watched the redhead march right up to the glam blonde she WASN’T dating, fists clenched. Nico decided to just wait and see what happened next. Rin sat up, helped by Hanayo, and Umi appeared suddenly, moving to join Nico.

Eli closed her eyes, then turned, looking past Maki to Nico, who was somehow, dusted with a fine coat of flour, a stern Umi standing by, managing to still pull off a professional demeanor. “She signs a NDA.” Eli’s hands waved wildly. “If any of this ends up anywhere, we sue.”

Maki shifted so she was blocking Nico from Eli’s glare, “No, what happens is you go back to your job and I finish helping Nico.”

Umi glanced at Nico, who was taking a moment to rub her cheek and see how much flour she could scrape off. Umi couldn’t tell if Nico had made any difference. There would definitely need to be a reshoot.

Nozomi had stepped forward, next to Eli, hand reaching out to her, “Eli?”

Maki and Eli had blocked out anything but their intensifying staring battle. When Maki’s arms swung back, Nico decided she did not need to be in the middle of a battle for corporate dominance. Nico had an important audition to ace on a very short deadline and a very long list of things she’d rather see Maki doing.

Time to solve this. Nico strode forward, white dust a fog as she moved. “This is ridiculous. Eli, right?” Nico’s tone demanded a response from Eli, who nodded curtly. Now that Nico had the problem's attention, she could settle this and could get back to work. “I don’t need to sign a NDA. I wouldn’t without consulting my lawyer at length. We’ll be done in a couple of hours and then you never need to see Nico again.” Maki grunted. Nico rolled her eyes but the redhead couldn’t see it. This wasn’t about Maki right now, this was about getting this disturbed, tyrannical distraction out of Nico’s space, even if it was only borrowed space.

“Elichi, why don’t we go deal with the payroll glitch and then later, you can tell Maki exactly how you knew she was back.” Nozomi hummed, quirking an eyebrow at Maki, who was suddenly very attentive as Eli squirmed at the threat underlying Nozomi’s cheery chirps.

“What do you mean? Didn’t someone just see me?” Maki asked.

Eli mumbled something as Nozomi slipped an arm through hers, dragging the fading Head Elf away from the agitated Nishikino heir. Nico blew out a relieved breath, causing flour to fly up and tickle Maki into nearly sneezing. Rin had almost recovered her feet, thanks to Hanayo, but the room was silent as worried lavender eyes searched Nico’s for a clue to her mood. Nico clapped her arms together, flour flying everywhere, Maki coughing in confusion.

“Guess it’s time for Nico to fix this.” Nico announced, crimson eyes as frisky as her tone.

Umi, knowing her friend very well, realized Nico must have had some kind of inspiration, “Do you need to change, Nico? Perhaps there’s a laundr…”

Nico chuckled, “Nope. Nico is a genius. We can still do this. No changes necessary. Are you ready, Rin?”

Rin nodded. Hanayo had been attempting to apologize since Rin got to her feet, but that had turned into a series of background squeaks as conversations escalated around her.

Maki fell back, watching as Nico and Umi had a quick discussion, Nico’s hands leaving flour trails everywhere as she pointed out various items on the set and toggled her fingers back and forth between two of the cameras. Umi started out frowning, but as Nico continued, her eyes brightened and she began making her own suggestions. There was a brief lull, Nico searching the cabinets for something, Umi considering camera options and Maki spoke up.

“Nico?”

“Hmmmm.” Nico was tapping her fingers down the counter, considering.

“Can I help?” Maki had retreated back to her laptop, fidgeting with tabs.

“Just keep looking cute and playing your awesome loops for Nico.”

Rin giggled; Maki gave Rin the side eye.

“Kotori can you get set to record?” Umi asked, glancing back toward the console booth.

Kotori’s voice lilted over the speakers, “Of course, Umi.”

“Get ready for Nico to razzle dazzle.” Nico turned her back on everyone, head dropped, hands to the side, clutching something in her right hand. Umi subtly shifted the closest camera, nodding at Rin.

“Everything’s live, Nico. It’s all yours.” Kotori’s voice squeaked with excitement. Hanayo, her eyes on Nico, had drifted behind Maki.

“Okay, Maki, give me an intro in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…”

Maki hit play, tension bringing her forward, curious about what Nico would do next. The tiny, sable haired spitfire spun with a smile bright enough, even through the flour obscuring her features, to make it seem like the lights in the room had just dimmed. Then with a quick swipe of her towel, she cleaned off her face, pale skin reddish, sprinkles of white still marring lipstick and snowy mascara.

“Hello, fellow lovers of the cute girl, Nico Ni is here to help you with that holiday date. Completely screwed up your kitchen like Nico did? Well, good news, now you’ve got a funny story for your hot date. But we don’t want her to think we’re a slob, right? So Nico will teach you 5 easy cleaning tips to get your kitchen in shape while you wait for the takeout to be delivered.”

Nico paused, pulling out a cleaning sponge and her smartphone, “Nico suggests ordering pizza, but not such a good pizza that she pays no attention to you. And make sure you know if she’s a wine, beer, soda or water drinker. Nico suggests sparkling water, with a splash of lime to start.” Nico put the phone down. “But before we get to that, if you don’t have any kind of cleaning product, make sure you keep baking soda around.” Nico produced a yellow box, poured chunky white powder on the sponge and then wet it, “It’ll also help deodorize, which is important.”

Nico proceeded to give a master class in cleaning a kitchen in 3 minutes, 45 seconds flat, which left 1 minute, 15 seconds to hop up on the counter, pour herself out some sparkling water, cut a twist of lime for it and sing 30 seconds of “How Little We Know,” kicking her feet back and forth and looking casual and relaxed and perfect in her probably ruined dress.

“How little we know How much to discover What chemical forces flow From lover to lover

How little we understand - what touches off that tingle That sudden explosion when two tingles intermingle Who cares to define what chemistry this is?”

Nico raised her glass, “Know more with Nico.”

Hanayo burst into spontaneous applause; Rin whistled. Umi relaxed for the first time all day. Maki, after the initial startle of Hanayo going off like a cheerleading bomb behind her, kept staring as Nico kept sparkling. It wasn’t just lighting, it was charm, charisma, attraction, explosive...Maki’s brain looped Nico’s vocals...tingles...the song continued in her head, a much more personal performance, Nico leaning in, a piano instead of her laptop, not candlelight, too easy to knock off, but maybe moonlight, ‘who cares with your lips on mine, how ignorant bliss is. So long as you kiss me and the world around me...”

Shatters. “Maki?” Nico’s voice broke into the excitement rising around Maki and the musician jumped guiltily. Nico appeared bemused, not annoyed, and she slid next to Maki’s laptop, still giving off puffs of flour, offering Maki the other crystal glass. Maki took it, her hand trembling slightly, and sipped slowly, not meeting Nico’s eyes. “Did you like Nico’s brilliant improvisation?”

Maki nodded, swallowed, then put the glass down, willing Rin to just shut up in advance, but Hanayo was a very thoughtful friend and Maki could see her whispering to Rin, leading her to the back of the studio. Umi had headed back to the booth, “S...suits you much better than the news.”

“Exactly.” Nico gleamed, Maki could feel it. “Nico’s been saying that for years. Maybe someone will finally listen.”

Maki drummed up enough bravery to look directly at Nico, “I’m sure they will.”

“I have something to tell you.” Nico stood, taking Maki’s hand and pulling her back toward the dressing room. Maki’s stomach flipped.

“Okay.”

“I may have to borrow your shower again.” Nico sat Maki on the couch, grabbed a pile of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, pausing for a quick ruffle of Maki’s hair. Maki couldn’t just sit. A brief look in the mirror. Nico had left some of her hair standing straight up, which looked ridiculous so Maki quickly smoothed it out, then started fidgeting with how the neck of her gray merino sweater fell, twisting around when it suddenly felt scratchy against the back of her neck. Nico shuffled back into the room, oversized sweater and jeans back on, fuzzy red and white candy cane striped socks sliding across the floor to where she’d left her duffle.

Rather than just stand and wait for Nico to say or do something, Maki picked up the conversation. “If you need to use my shower, there’s guest townhouses.”

“Oh, Maki doesn’t want Nico to see where she lives? Need a ‘Know More With Nico’ with 5 easy steps to cleaning your living room to impress a cute girl.”

Once again, somehow it was so easy for Nico to charm when saying something outrageous like that, which Maki would stumble over, even if she were describing someone else, someone Nico.

“No.” Maki couldn’t help it, the embarrassment made her sound sullen.

“Roommate? Don’t tell me you live with El…” Nico snorted as Maki got increasingly red.

“No. My parents.” Maki watched Nico carefully but there was no recoil, “I travel so much, I never really needed a place of my own.”

“Right. Maki’s off somewhere new every six months or so…” Now Nico’s voice was the one full of minor notes.

Maki rushed into the gathering doldrums, “Only because I want to…”

Nico didn’t believe in lingering in down moods and she’d found what she wanted. One beaten up green Thermos, one box carefully wrapped in candy cane colored paper and a bright red ribbon. She put them down in front of the mirror, arranged as artfully as two objects could be and snapped a quick pic, typing and swiping even more rapidly. Maki picked up the Thermos. Looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“It goes with the present.” Nico nudged, obviously pleased with herself. “And check your notifications.”

Why would Nico know her phone was vibrating in her pocket? Had she sent a text? Maki pulled out her phone, TWIG notification, @StormCookie had sent her a message.

Maki opened the app. @StormCookie’s had sent her Nico’s pic with the caption: So, @SantaChan, Step 5 in StormCookie’s Easy Steps To Romance and Sexcess™ is tell the Cute Girl you like her. For real impact, give her something she loves. Check in the box, SantaClueless.”

Maki stared at Nico for a long moment, thoughts racing, if Nico was @StormCookie, she’d been having all those late night conversations with Nico, wanting room service to deliver Nico to her room...which had happened when...when had Nico known, Maki’s knees shook, a nervous tremor, and Nico was right there, hands on her waist, guiding Maki to the chair, then dropping the gift into her lap, “C’mon, Red and Ravishing,” Maki’s head snapped around as Nico’s voice smoothly rolled out mischief coated compliments, “don’t make Nico wait.”

“When did you…” Maki’s hands reached for the box, but her brain was still desperately working out the clues and stumbling over the memory of the awful, sandy cookie taste in her mouth after she’d snuck cookies on Nico’s set. Maybe Rin was right and she should just buy a cookie factory. But Storm...Nico knew so much about cooking…and Nico had found her a piano...and ever since Maki’d met her, she couldn’t stop seeing Nico’s face, features lovely and lively and curious, whenever she closed her own eyes.

“When I saw the Santa hat bunny in your bathroom.” Nico admitted, pouring milk out of the thermos.

“But those cookies…”

“What cookies?” Nico was starting to recognize some of Maki’s moods and this one was confusion. Which was infecting Nico.

Maki frowned at the memory. “On the set. When I visited the station. They were terrible.”

“You really are only interested in food.” Nico snorted, grabbing the box back and ripping off the now wasted A-list level wrapping paper job.

“Please don’t talk to Rin again. Ever.” Maki suddenly had a window open into a view of endless, future teasing.

Nico’s hand was under Maki’s nose and there was a darkly sweet smell, a gingery invitation.“Open up.”

Maki’s mouth opened automatically, the aroma a driving temptation.

Nico shoved something in, “Chew.”

Maki bit down and shards of crystal ginger heat crackled between her teeth as she savored the molasses filling her mouth, crispiness melting into mouthwateringly soft caramel sweetness with just a kick of cloves. Lavender eyes wide, Maki chewed slowly, tastebuds relishing every zesty crumb.

“Nico didn’t bake those cookies you had. Nico told you not to eat them. Jill the PA baked them. Nico is paid for her on camera work, not her cooking. Nico is the best AND cutest cook you will ever meet. Jill is a poisoner in training. Never eat anything Jill hands you.”

Maki grabbed the cookies back and took Nico’s hand, her voice, matter of fact; glowing eyes full of awe, “Marry me, Nico.”

“How about dating first?” Nico’s fingers caressed Maki’s cheek, crimson eyes finally able to unabashedly glory in every gorgeous detail. Maki’s eyes never left Nico’s, even as the redhead popped another cookie in her mouth, chewing with thoughtful consideration. Then with a nod, she put the cookies aside, her hand on Nico’s waist, “Nope. These are too good. Has to be marriage.”

“KISS THE COOKIE GIRL!” Rin’s shout announced her boisterous fall through the not completely closed door she’d been eavesdropping behind, Hanayo following.

Maki grinned, flicking a finger in her best friend’s direction, “That too.” Suddenly Nico was in Maki’s lap and her lips were on Nico’s, a gentle touch, warm spices tingling as much as Maki’s tongue did, licking the scattered crumbs mashed between their mouths, pushing forward, lips opening, Nico trying to control a swirl of sensations as her hands slid through Maki’s hair and she angled for the next kiss.

“We’ll see you later, Maki.” Hanayo could barely be heard over the sound of her dragging a protesting Rin out of the room and solidly closing the door.

“Your friends are silly.” Nico whispered.

“Your lips are delicious.” Maki nipped forward.

“I think those are the crumbs from yours.” Nico bopped Maki’s nose with hers, “You may have a problem.”

Maki shrugged, taking the time for a lingering caress of Nico’s ear. “Rin says cookiesexuals don’t exist. She looked it up.”

Nico had to force back a giggle. Here was Maki, glorious lavender eyes full of fresh wonder and yet, the word “cookiesexual” had just come out of the most sensuously luscious red lips Nico had ever seen. She wanted to know every crack of them. Nico raised a finger and slowly traced their center, watching Maki’s eyes as something primal poured quickly into their artless depths, “Less talking.”

Maki pouted, but Nico’s mouth followed her finger and Maki suddenly had trouble remembering her own name, let alone...and when Nico heard the whisper of a moan vibrate under her searching mouth, she knew conversation was over and those lush, dream building lips were hers.

CHRISTMAS EVE, VARIOUS LOCATIONS

Nozomi, in blue polar bear pajama pants, a white North Pole Nishikino t-shirt and fuzzy tanuki slippers, came sprinting down the central hall. Eli’s call had sounded urgent. Everything had been wrapped and packed, everyone was out on their runs, what could have possibly happened? Eli stood outside the door of her office, pacing nervously, dressed in a short blue and white dress Nozomi had never seen before.

“What happened, Eli? What’s wrong.” Nozomi grabbed Eli by the arms, pulling her close, “Did something happen to Maki again?”

Eli coughed, her smile embarrassed, “You’re going to have to write me up, Nozomi.”

“Why? What happened?”Anxiety wasn’t helping Nozomi catch her breath, nor was the way Eli’s eyes were lingering on the logo on her t-shirt. “Eli!”

“I violated protocol.” Eli admitted, with a slight blush.

“Are you tracking Maki again. This is ridiculous.” Nozomi was usually mild of temper, but the non PG-13 romance she’d been watching had just hit its first climax and instead of being warm with a bowl full of popcorn, here she was panting in a hall with an Eli on overdose levels of attractive and annoying.

“I hacked your Christmas list.”

“I didn’t write one.” Nozomi started to pull out her hair. Eli was infrequently infuriating but when she was...

Eli took her hand, interrupting a growl. “I hacked Santa’s Christmas master list and looked you up.” The door to Eli’s office opened and Nozomi glanced inside. Eli’s desk and multiple screens had disappeared, replaced by a small table, lace tablecloth, two chairs, candles, instrumental music and an array of what smelled like Nozomi’s favorite dishes, “Merry Christmas, Nozomi. I’m sorry for adding to your workload.”

Nozomi stepped back, agitated. “I’m not dressed. I’m in the middle of a movie. You…” Nozomi looked Eli up and down, no matter how hard Eli worked, she never skipped her morning ballet exercises and the dress was floofy and form fitting enough that Eli could have stepped right into performing as the Sugar Plum Fairy, “look amazing.”

Eli still had Nozomi’s hand and yanked her forward, pointing up to a small clump of green with white berries, “I also finally complied with your mistletoe directive. Shouldn’t you encourage that kind of behavior?” Eli’s eyes were so soft and so kind with an iceberg of lovely under the sharp blue tip. “You look beautiful, Nozomi, you always do. I’m going to pay more attention.”

What the hell, Nozomi thought, if she’d fallen asleep in front of her screen, she might as well enjoy this flight of her imagination’s fancy. But when Eli’s lips brushed hers, they were cold enough to be real and warm enough that Nozomi almost cried, “Elichi.”

“I love the way you say my name.” Eli whispered, stealing another kiss with a smile.

Nozomi followed Eli’s graceful curves into the room now full of her favorite things. Merry Christmas indeed, she thought.

Tsubasa, dressed in a borrowed Washington Spirit hoodie and her take out the garbage jeans, wondered again why she was clambering up a precariously balanced 20 foot ladder. Then Honoka turned back to check she was keeping up, her incandescent grin replacing the sun, and Tsubasa doubled her speed, damn the wind cutting through her gloves. Honoka hopped onto the roof, then offered a hand to pull Tsubasa up.

“Why are we here again, Honoka?” Tsubasa possibly should have taken the bring a jacket advice Umi had given her when they’d split off into their separate evenings after a joint Christmas Eve dinner.

“Yukiho always gave me grief about Santa not visiting cause I was on the naughty list when we were kids, so I thought a good scare to get even would be just the ticket.” Honoka stomped playfully across the roof at a speed that made Tsubasa calculate slopes and rates of fall, and then she had a vision involving the precarious ladder before Honoka called out again. “Do I sound like a reindeer?” Honoka jumped, soundly thumping the roof and falling into the chimney with a belly laugh, “ho hO HO!”

Practical was down on the ground in a parka, Tsubasa realized, and what had climbed up here on the roof with a ladder that was going to fall and crush Practical in another three jumps, was joy and excitement. Honoka threw her knitted hat up in the air, opened her mouth to catch a snowflake Tsubasa could barely spot, bounced 10 feet forward on all fours and rolled over to point at the sky, “See all those stars?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Honoka sounded worried.

“Because I’m looking at you.” Tsubasa knelt, ignoring the cold, so very easy to do as the brightness of Honoka Kosaka eclipsed everything else about this night.

Umi was nervous and kept twisting the ring in her pocket, afraid a gap would suddenly open and the ring would fall down her pants, into her shoe, dig into her foot and she’d draw up her knee, knocking Kotori sideways into the tree, starting a fire on the throw rug.

“Umi, is everything all right?” Kotori’s head was resting on Umi’s shoulder as they sat, illuminated by twinkling lights, music playing quietly in the background.

Claude Thornhill’s "Snowfall" started its beautiful, rolling melody and Umi knew it was now or never. She’d been ashamed catching the ring on Nico’s finger this past week and knowing that for ten years now, since they started dating in high school, Kotori had not had the acknowledgement of the seriousness of Umi’s feelings that she deserved. Now or never, Umi told herself, and stood, offering a hand to Kotori, “May I have this dance.”

Kotori stood, her slender, strong hand fitting Umi’s perfectly as they started to move together. Her hair brushed Umi’s cheek as she whispered. “I love this song.”

“I know.” Umi brought them closer together. If she didn’t have to meet Kotori’s eyes, she could get through this. “I know so many things about you, Kotori Minami, and I always find something new to love, every day.” Umi paused. Kotori seemed to have stopped breathing, but the music continued and so did Umi. “That’s what I want to do. Every day. Find out something new to love about you. I love you, Kotori. M...marry me.”

“Umi.” Kotori stopped, hand tilting up Umi’s chin, golden eyes the only light in the world for Umi. Kissing Kotori had always been an out of body experience for Umi, daring her to be a braver person than she’d ever thought she could, but this kiss, this wasn’t a call to bravery, this was Kotori’s gentle stamp, approving and accepting every one of Umi’s hesitations, every day of doubt, every hidden fear. One whispered word embraced and purified them all. “Yes.”

Umi soared.

“Hey, Kayo-chin, you forgot your dinner.” Rin ran into the stable, carrying a large sack. Hanayo was preparing blankets for the next round of reindeer to return. “Did Maki get back from Australia yet?”

“Yeah, she took Hyeri to Tudor.” Hanayo smiled, glad the young reindeer would get some flight experience. She was too skittish to work in a team.

“You do such a good job, Kayo-chin.” Rin hugged her fiancée.

“Thanks, Rin.”

Rin released Hanayo, spreading a blanket in the back of the stable, taking two bentos out of the sack, “Sit down for a minute, I brought your favorite curry. And rice.” Rin held up one of the bentos, “You must be tired and hungry.”

Hanayo nodded, adding one last blanket to the stack and then joining Rin, who pulled her close, keeping her in a loose hug as Hanayo opened the bento full of rice with a smile, “Thanks, Rin.”

“Anything for my Kayochin.”

Hanayo took a bite of rice, then laid her head on Rin’s shoulder, “I'm glad you're here. Tomorrow, we stay cozy in bed all day, right?”

Rin chuckled, thinking she might need a quick run on the indoor track to tire herself out while Hanayo finished her chores. “Only for you. I love you, Kayochin.”

“I love you too, Rin.” Hanayo muttered around a mouthful of rice and curry.

Nico had fallen asleep on her mother’s couch, afghan pulled over her cutest pajamas, white gold ring with 60 diamonds formed into a snowflake sparkling on her left hand. A newly baked batch of molasses crisps waited on a plain white plate, with a tall glass of milk next to it. The milk was holding down a note that said “Don’t forget to kiss the cook ; P Love, Nico.”

There was a shimmer next to the haphazardly decorated Christmas tree, mostly handmade ornaments, and Maki appeared, Santa Hat™ askew on her head, arms full of presents. She stashed them under the tree, happy at the thought of Nico’s siblings waking up to even more holiday cheer. Then, ever so quietly, she moved to the small table set up for her and took the top cookie off the pile.

“I knew you’d go for the cookies first. Nico is shattered.” Maki finished her treat before sliding in next to her fiancée, as Nico continued her complaint, “I almost made oatmeal cookies for your Papa, but I couldn’t bear the look of disappointment on your face.”

“I left Jill a book on food photography. Maybe she’ll switch hobbies.” Maki leaned back, stretching, one arm falling behind Nico in that tried and true teenage maneuver. Cliches were surprisingly fun to indulge in. “Nico is marrying into a family of reverse burglars.” Nico yawned and let her head fall back into Maki’s bicep, inhaling, “You smell like a musky pine tree.”

Maki turned to kiss Nico on the cheek, “It’s not so bad is it?”

“It’s you, so it’s perfect.” Nico flipped, meeting Maki’s lips with an exaggerated smack, “You’re really staying in town for a few days?”

Maki nodded, “Yeah, after Christmas everybody collapses until New Year’s. This week’s been crazy, but we all survived, even Eli. I think Rin might have run off a few pounds trying to get people not to exhaust themselves.”

“She doesn’t have anything to spare.” Nico wrapped the throw around her shoulders, lost in the luminous lavender that was now her favorite color, as long as she didn’t have to wear it.

“I know. You’ll have to make me some cookies to take back for her.” Maki’s eyes twinkled.

“Now, that, SantaSelfish, is a blatant attempt to get more than the allotment of cookies due you as Nico’s fiancée.”

Maki pulled Nico in for a long kiss, “Can you blame me?”

“No, actually Nico is quite flattered, but you can’t steal Rin’s cookies. What’s your least favorite kind?”

“Not made by Nico.” Another kiss, then Maki murmuring into Nico’s hair. “Love you. I missed you. How was your week?”

“Nico is flying to New York next Thursday for a meeting.”

“Good. Want to borrow a reindeer?” Maki was purring her way around Nico’s ear.

“Not even Nico’s stylist could fix the frizz from you flying me back to Tudor last Monday.” Nico chided.

Maki’s grin was adorable and impish, as she played with the loose ends of Nico’s hair, “You looked great. Let me mess it up some more.”

“Oooh, Mama, Maki’s here!” Cocoa dashed into the room as Maki jumped back and Nico collapsed giggling, “Can we open our presents now?”

“It’s 3 o’clock in the morning,” Maki looked at Nico in a panic as Cocoa nearly vaulted over the couch.

“Come here you.” Nico pulled her sister over the back of the couch and crushed two of her favorite people into the biggest hug she could, “Merry Christmas, Maki. Welcome to the Yazawas.”

Rin was wrong. Maki had trusted cookies and cookies had led her to Nico. This Christmas Eve had just the right flavor. From now on, Maki was going to enjoy every second and every peppermint candy cane spiced, knock the Santa Hat™ off her head kiss from Nico she could.

In between bites of the best cookies ever ; )

A/N: If you've read this far, I adore you and I hope you enjoyed this.

#nicomaki #yazawa nico #nishikino maki #Christmas #fanfic #holiday #Santa Cutie and The Christmas Cookie Queen #IT'S DONE!!!#Santa #Santa Jr #cookies

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101flavoursofweird · 6 years

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Rhythm Thief Secret Santa 2017

My Rhythm Thief Secret Santa for @trashical-girl. They asked for a cute date or dancing between Raphael x Marie. So... These two have a Christmas date at a toy store :D Thanks to @sleepybrainiac and @regu-1 for organising the Secret Santa!

Title: A Couple of Jokers

Description: Raphael takes Marie to a toy store on Christmas Eve. Shenanigans ensue.

Spoilers: For The Emperor’s Treasure

Pairings: Raphael/Marie

La Cour des Jokers – one of the largest, oldest toy stores in all of Paris. By day, the store was rife with bell chimes, animatronic greetings, toy vehicles whizzing about, video game blasts, barnyard animal noises, baby doll cries, cash register beeps, children’s laughter and the sighs of hapless parents. By night, it became a silent maze, rumored to be haunted.

Raphael was relying on those rumors that Christmas Eve. Not that he put much stock in ghost stories. Just over a year ago, he had beaten a guy pretending to be Napoleon Bonaparte back from the grave. There was only one true phantom in this town. Phantom R! He was about to pull off the holiday heist of the century… without actually stealing anything.

If he was honest, he had returned to Paris that day and hadn’t found enough time to buy Marie a Christmas present. She was overjoyed when he arrived at her manse, but that joy turned to confusion and doubt when he merely handed her a gift voucher.

“It’s a voucher for La Cour des Jokers!” Fondue had picked it up off the street. Raphael wouldn’t dare mention that.

“Oh…” She raised her eyebrows at the red court jester grinning at her from the voucher. “Thank you. I’ll ask Mama if she wants to visit the store with me.”

“Hold that thought – I’m taking you to the store tonight!” He really was making this up as he went along. “You can spend that voucher on whatever you like. How does that sound?”

“I’d much rather just spend time with you,” Marie teased, taking his hand. “If that means sneaking into a toy store, then so be it… as long as we, um, don’t leave any damages.”

Having worked at Simon’s shop, Raphael knew how tough it could be to run a business at this time of year. They would have to be extra careful not to jeopardize the toy store owners or their employees. Raphael switched to his Phantom R facade and flipped his hat. “Phantom’s honor – we’ll be in and out without a trace. Also, you might want to bring your violin…”

Breaking in (minus any breakages) was much easier said than done. As far as Raphael was aware, there weren’t any secret entrances into La Cour des Jokers.

He, Marie and Fondue scaled the storefront and stared in through the glass ceiling windows. The security system wasn’t as complex as that of the Louvre, but through the dim light, Raphael still spied a couple of cameras and five guards on patrol. (Law enforcement didn’t take a break during Christmas.) He could find a way to temporarily disable the cameras. As for the guards… This was where the ‘haunted’ rumors came in handy.

He located a ventilation duct on the roof and signaled to Marie. She started playing Moon Princess on her violin. The melody echoed through the vent and across the store, powering up all of the lights and animatronics inside.

Raphael smirked when he heard shrieks from the security guards:

“Mon dieu!”

“The toys… They’re alive!”

“S-someone call the Constabulary – ”

“No! Call SOS Fantômes!”

“RUN!”

Five guards fled from the store.

“Now’s our chance,” Raphael hissed. He winced as he tore open the vent. “I’ll, uh, reimburse them for that… You go first, Fondue. Bark if it’s all clear down there.”

Fondue yelped as he slid down the chute. They heard a bump and after a minute, the echo of a bark.

“Look out below, bud!” Raphael followed Fondue down there, narrowly avoiding him when he landed in the vent. He caught Marie when she came down.

Fondue led the way with his nose. Raphael and Marie crawled after him until they reached a grate. They could see the illuminated shop floor beneath them.

It took Raphael a good kick to get the grate open. He poked his head out, hanging upside down, and almost hit a toy helicopter Marie’s music had brought to life.

More worrying was the flashing security camera not two feet away from him. He retracted his head into the vent. “Camera, right beneath us.”

“Do you know where the Security Room is?” Marie wondered.

“Nope, but I’ve got another idea.” He scanned the shop floor for something that could help them. Action figures, Lego sets, footballs, bikes, trampolines, Nerf guns...

Raphael snickered. “It’s Nerf or nothing.”

Marie gave him a sideways glance.

“Wait here.”

He dropped down from the vent, agile as a cat. A giant Lego man offered him cover from the camera’s gaze. He darted past the bikes, behind a trampoline and over to the stack of Nerf guns, grabbing one out on display. (He hadn’t used one of these since he was a kid!) He loaded the gun, took aim and fired a foam dart at the camera lens. The dart stuck – bull’s-eye!

He quickly disabled the other cameras he could find. Then he pushed a trampoline underneath the vent opening and called up to Marie and Fondue. The two of them jumped out and bounced on the trampoline.

“That was fun,” Marie gasped.

Raphael gestured to the trampoline. “Would this fit in your garden?”

“Definitely, but we’d never get it out of the store.”

“What about a bike?” Raphael picked out a bright blue bike with training wheels and a basket on the front. “You could enter Tour de France!”

Marie breathed, “I’ve never owned a bike…” She frowned. “Again, we’d have some trouble carrying it out.”

“You can still try it out. We’ll ride around the store!” Raphael insisted. He passed her the bike and a white helmet. He grabbed a red bike for himself, sans training wheels. Fondue hopped into the basket on Marie’s bike, sitting next to her violin case.

“Ready?”

Marie nodded determinedly and stared peddling. “Ready!”

“Hey, hold on!”

The sped along the aisles, considering which toys Marie could buy.

Raphael hollered, “Do you like board games?” They had everything, from Monopole to Hungry Hippos.

“There are so many to choose from!”

They passed a band of instruments playing by themselves. (The power of Moon Princess still lingered here.)

“A mini keyboard?”

“It sounds lovely… but we already have a piano in the parlor!”

When they encountered the stuffed animals section, Fondue leapt out of the basket. He picked up a fluffy pink rabbit in his jaws and dropped it at Marie’s feet. “Woeuf!”

“I love it!” She lifted the rabbit and patted Fondue’s head. “Thank you, Fondue!”

“Sure you don’t want something a little less... slobbery?” Raphael laughed as Marie adjusted her grip on the rabbit. “They have some dolls over there – “

“No, this is fine.”

She placed the rabbit firmly in the basket. She began wheeling her bike away, not turning back to Raphael or the dolls. Fondue gave Raphael an unhelpful look and plodded after her.

“Was it something I said?” Raphael muttered to the dolls. They watched him with unblinking glass eyes and empty expressions. Shuddering, Raphael caught up to his friends.

“You were right, Marie. Those dolls are way too creepy...”

“It’s not that,” she whispered as he walked alongside her. She went quiet for a few minutes. Raphael noticed Moon Princess’s spell was starting to wear off – the lights flickered above them and the animatronics had fallen silent. Though he had a hunch he knew what was wrong, he didn’t want to push Marie. She had never forced him to share his secrets.

They finally came to the checkout lanes. Marie revealed, “Years ago, Jean-François liked to spoil me.” She scowled at her violin case. “If I played extraordinarily well, he would buy me toys – dolls, mostly. Bikes and trampolines would be far too dangerous. What if I broke my arm and could no longer play the violin?”

He had treated her like a dainty windup doll who would play for him over and over again.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael murmured. Why hadn’t he considered this before he brought her to a toy store?

She hugged him. “Don’t apologize. Tonight has been... incredible. I never did anything this exciting when I was little.”

He tried to think of something smooth, something Phantom R would say, but then she snuggled against his chest and he stammered, “I love you.”

“I love you too – “

“Grrrrr! Woeuf!”

“Alright, we’re coming,” Raphael huffed to Fondue. “We’ll leave the voucher here and some Euros for the busted vent.”

“Don’t forget your Nerf gun,” Marie pointed out, placing her voucher and a 50 Euro note above a cash register. “It’s your present from me.”

“Wo-woeuf!”

Ignoring Fondue’s impatient yaps, Raphael cradled his new Nerf Gun and grinned at Marie. “Thanks, Marie… That should be more than enough money to make it up to the store – “

“Do you really think that will cover the cost of your crimes, Phantom?”

Standing at the end of the checkout aisle, wearing a green Christmas sweater under her coat, was Charlie Vergier.

Raphael snapped his fingers at her. “I knew someone was watching us!” (Fondue snorted.)

Marie attempted to appease Charlie. “Shouldn’t you be at home spending Christmas with your father?”

“I was... until he received a distress call from the Constabulary.” Charlie hummed loudly. “Something about violin music and moving toys at La Cour des Jokers.”

Sheepishly, Marie hid her violin case behind her.

“Sorry for ruining your Christmas Eve,” Raphael said. If his dad was around, he’d spend every minute with him. “We’ll let you get back to your dad – “

“I’ve waited a whole year for this.” Charlie pulled out a soccer ball. “All I want for Christmas is to CAPTURE YOU!”

She recoiled as Raphael shot a round of foam darts at her.

“Run!” Marie cried, grabbing her rabbit and Raphael’s hand. They dashed to the entrance doors, only to be met with red and blue police lights and Vergier’s booming voice.

“YOU’RE AT THE TOP OF MY LIST, PHANTOM R!” (Where did they come up with these seasonal puns?)

“Back to the vent,” Raphael yelped. It was so dark that they missed Charlie as they cheesed it back to the trampoline and bike area.

The three of them scrambled onto the trampoline. Raphael bounced hard, giving Fondue and Marie a boost into the secret opening. Before he could join them, something whipped through the air and wrapped around his legs, almost tripping him off the trampoline.

“Really, Charlie?” he moaned, struggling to untangle himself from the skipping rope. His struggles increased as Charlie surged towards him. “I thought Christmas was a time for friendship...”

“Phantom R!” Marie shouted from above.

“Woeuf!”

“Get out,” he yelled to them.

Charlie’s pace slowed to a saunter. “Don’t worry. I won’t mention Marie was involved. You’re the one who masterminded the entire operation, but this is low even for you. Robbing a children’s toy store at Christma – Ow!” She had taken a pink rabbit to the face.

“Sorry, Charlie!”

Marie leapt down, helped Raphael free and the pair of them jumped up to the vent.

Charlie tossed the rabbit away and clambered onto the trampoline.

“I’M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU TWO YET!”

“Crawl,” Raphael gasped. Fondue was already waiting at bottom of the chute. Raphael pushed Marie up. He passed Fondue up to her. Then she heaved Raphael onto the roof.

“What now?” Marie panted. The store was surrounded by police cars. “If we make a run for it on foot, Vergier and his officers will catch us – “

“Woeuf!” Fondue was pawing at something triangular left on the roof.

Marie squinted. “Is that a tent?”

“Charlie’s hang-glider,” Raphael exclaimed. He lifted it up by the handle bar, testing its weight. “It’s strong enough to take you, me and Fondue. Come on!”

It felt wrong, stealing from Charlie, but she hadn’t left them with much choice right now.

Marie stood in front of Raphael and the handle bar as they waddled to the edge of the roof. Raphael wouldn’t let her fall. If anything, they should be more concerned for Fondue. He had to hold on to Raphael’s leg!

There were several bangs and Charlie burst out of the ventilation duct.

“My glider!”

“We’ll send you a new ooooone!” Raphael yelled as they dived off the roof. They flew right over the astonished officers’ heads. Marie heard Vergier roar, but she didn’t open her eyes until they were soaring above the cityscape. She released a shaky breath.

“You ok?” Raphael checked, raising his voice over the wind.

“Mmhm!”

“I’m sorry about your rabbit! You can have the Nerf gun if you want!”

Marie shook her head. “Charlie will be more upset about her glider. Are you really going to send her a new one?”

“The newest, best model I can find,” Raphael promised. “I’ll even get her initials written on the wings.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate tha – WAH!” Her grip had slipped for a minute, but one of Raphael’s arms wrapped around her waist.

“I’ve got you!”

Marie stuttered, “A- are we going to land soon?”

“Hrrrn...” Fondue whined in agreement.

“Sure thing! Where to?”

“Back to my house?”

They swooped over the Sorbonne and descended onto Marie’s balcony at the manse. Marie was relieved to be back on solid ground.

She opened the balcony doors. “You have to stay the night. I can’t leave you alone at Christmas.”

He dropped the glider on the balcony, gaping at the the grandeur of her room. (She had so much stuff – what more could she get for Christmas?)

“I don’t want to intrude... I’ve caused you enough trouble this evening – “

“It’s no trouble at all.” Marie ushered him into the room, out of Fondue’s sights. She added in his ear, “As long as you don’t report me to the constables.”

They were so close to now...

Phantom R would be prepared with a flirtatious reply. Raphael just about managed to kiss her on the lips.

“Deal,” he murmured.

#Rhythm Thief Secret Santa 2017 #rhythm thief #raphael #Marie #Raphael/Marie #Phantom R #Fondue #charlie vergier #Inspector Vergier #Christmas 2017 #RT fics #Fanfiction #my writing

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trecotrash · 6 years

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Follow You

A/N: Things have been shitty, so here’s a bit of a song inspired fic for you guys! (ALSO, I will finish the rest of the musical requests. Wifi was a bitch and didn’t post the ones I wanted to post, so I gotta rewrite those. And if I haven’t gotten to yours, I’m either rewriting it or it’s from a musical I don’t know a lot about so I’m listening to the song over and over again)

Pairing: James Wilson x Reader

Description: Since their meeting and becoming a part of the crew James has been falling for Reader. Once she gets captured, he realized that he would do anything to get them back.

Inspired by Follow You by Bring Me The Horizon

youtube

When he first met her, he didn’t know what to think. She was in the middle of taking out a body, in one of his spots. In all fairness, almost all of the gangs in Los Santos came to this spot to dispose of some of their bodies, but Brett told him to keep an eye on her. He hired her for a few side jobs since he didn’t need any of his crew to get their hands dirty. Not only that, but she did the dirty work for a lot of other crews in the city.

No wonder the Fake AH Crew hired her so much. She’ll do pretty much everything. James moved in closer in order to keep a better eye on her.

“You know, if Brett hired you to keep an eye on me, there’s no point in sneaking around.” She turned towards where he was hiding. “You can come out. I don’t bite...most of the time.” James kept a hand on his gun as he walked out of his hiding spot. “Let me guess, you’re the one who usually takes care of the bodies afterwards, but when Brett hired me, he wanted you to keep a close eye on me so I’m not sabotaging anything?”

“I..wha-...how did you-”

“It’s just the same thing over and over again,” she replied. “All of the people who hire me get one of their crew members to keep an eye on me.” He nodded. “You know, you’re probably the cutest by far.”

“Well, you’re probably the cutest girl who knows how to properly dispose of a body,” he complimented.

She winked at him. “It was nice meeting you. Can’t wait until next time.” She hopped into her car and drove away. James couldn’t help but stare at the moving vehicle. She was something else, and he knew it.

For the next couple of jobs, it was the same pattern: the girl would go out to the usual spot, James would follow her there, she would call him out on it, and they would hang out for a few minutes. A few jobs after that, it ended up being their new routine.

“You know,” James started, “we’ve been meeting here for a few weeks now, and I still don’t know your name.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call this meeting, but whatever floats your boat,” she teased.

He chuckled. “Will I ever get to know the name of the pretty girl standing right in front of me?”

“That all depends.”

“On?”

“If I get to know the name of the pretty boy who’s been keeping an eye on me, or as I like to call it- stalking me.”

He chuckled. “You know if I was stalking you, you’d have no clue about it.”

“Touché.” She jumped off the hood of her car. “Maybe you’ll have to wait until another time to learn my name.” Before she hopped in her car, James grabbed her hand.

“James,” he told her.

“(Y/N).” He smiled and let her go. She got into her car and drove away.

As time went on, her work with Fake Chop became more frequent, and eventually, they inducted her into the crew. For missions and heists, she somehow managed to be with paired off with James, and she would be sent off with him for smaller jobs.

“You know, I’m starting to think it’s a bit weird that I’m only paired up with you for jobs,” she mentioned after she disposed of a body. She closed the trunk of her car and leaned against it.

��How so?” James asked.

“Ever since I officially became a part of the crew, it appears that we’re assigned to do tasks together,” she pointed out. “I mean, look. Brett assigned us to dispose a body together. That seems pretty odd, don’t ya think.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. “I mean, it could...if you didn’t know that I pretty much asked Brett to keep pairing us up,” he admitted. “I mean, it was the only way I knew I’d be able to spend a lot of time with you.” She chuckled. “What?”

“That’s adorable,” she teased. “You know, if you wanted to spend time with me, you coulda just asked me out on a date.”

His eyes widened. “Would that have actually worked?”

She shrugged. “Only one way to find out,” she winked as she walked to the passenger side of the car. “By the way, you’re driving. I’m too tired to.”

He smiled and caught the keys she threw his way. He hopped into the car and drove off. As soon as they got to the base, he shut the engine off and turned toward her sleeping figure. She stirred and curled up against the window. She looks so adorable he thought to himself. James took his phone out and texted Brett.

To Brett: (Y/N) passed out in the car on the way to the base. We’re gonna crash here tonight. From Brett: Okay. Be sure to lock everything up.

He glanced over at (Y/N) one last time and decided to carry her in and let her sleep instead of waking her up. He got out of the car and got to the passenger side. He carried her bridal style. As he walked up to the warehouse, (Y/N) cuddled against his chest. He couldn’t help but smile. Once he got into the warehouse, he set her down on the couch. Before he could lock up, she grabbed his hand.

“Don’t go,” she murmured.

“I’m just going to lock up.” She hummed and let go as she turned and curled into the couch. He set up all of the alarms and locked up before he made his way back to her. He kissed her forehead before she grabbed his hand again.

“Please stay,” she whispered. “Even the toughest need someone to cuddle with.” He grinned as he cuddled with her on the cramped couch. Despite the fact that they could fall off at any moment, he couldn’t help but feel comfortable with her.

“Hey (Y/N),” he breathed, “go on a date with me?”

“Of course,” she mumbled into his chest.

From that point on, they got more and more in sync. Brett didn’t even have to assign them together for them to know they would be working on every mission with each other, yet the closer they got to each other, the more dangerous it became for them to date.

“You know, you never told me why you started going freelance work to begin with,” James mentioned as they were cuddling on their couch one night. “You always said that you left your crew, but you never said why.”

She sighed. “If I tell you, you’re going to hate me.”

“You sound so sure of yourself,” he chuckled. She slapped his chest. “Seriously though, I don’t think you could say anything that could make me hate you.”

(Y/N) took a deep breath. “My father sold me to a different crew because he was indebted to them,” she confessed. “It was easy for him to give me up since it was either me or my older sister.” Her fingers curled into a fist, and her eyes were shut tight. “She was daddy’s little angel, so he gave me up. He was desperate, and I was the accident of the family after all.”

James grabbed her hand and held it in his. “What makes you think that I would hate you for that?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t even finished the whole story yet.” He nodded. “The leader of their group, she essentially forced me to be her girlfriend. It was practically the only way I knew I’d survive.”

“Did she?” She immediately shook her head.

“No,” she answered. “She didn’t force me to do that because I was still 16 at the time and for some reason, she had a moral code when it came to that.” She chuckled. “I was just fed up with how they did things, so I escaped, changed my name, and tried to stay low. It just sucks that I was stuck in that loop for the longest time. I loved the thrill of it, just not the people I was forced to do it with.”

“What crew were you with?” he questioned.

“The Harpies,” she whispered. She felt him tense up. “I’m sorry.”

“Were you a part of what happened to my sister?”

She shook her head. “That happened right after I left.” He let out a sigh of relief. “I knew her when she was first brought into the crew. I helped her as much as I could.”

“But, you left her behind, didn’t you?” She could feel herself start to blink away the tears. “This is why you thought I’d hate you. You had the chance to save her, but you didn’t.”

“James, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t know,” he finished for her. “I’m going to go to sleep.” He got up and walked away; he didn’t even give you a chance to let her finish the story. She sighed and grabbed her phone.

She quickly sent a text to Brett letting him know that she was going to stay the night at the base: she told him it was to help her get ready for the Splenda Pine 7 mission he assigned her to help with, but they both knew it was a lie.

The following day, on her way back from helping the Splenda Pine 7 boys with their heist, when someone put their hand over her mouth. “Miss me?” was the last thing she heard before being injected with some sort of tranquilizer.

That morning, James woke up to a note attached to his front door. He checked his phone, as the note instructed, and immediately went to the base. “Brett, we have to do something!”

“What are you talking about?” he questioned.

“They took her! They took (Y/N)!” Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him. “I just got a video from The Harpies. They had her tied up, tape over her mouth, and they...” He paused as he tried to find the right words. “They beat her up pretty good.”

Brett sighed. “I know how much she means to you, but we can’t just storm in there and take them down. That’s going to get you killed.”

“We can’t just sit down and do nothing!” Aleks stood up and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Dude, you need to calm the fuck down,” he said. “We just have to wait-”

“Wait for what? For her to be dead? To get pieces of her corpse?” He shrugged his hand off of his shoulder. “We have to do something! I love her!” Everyone stepped back at his statement. “I love her, and I’m not going to lose her without letting her know that!”

Brett sighed. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

On the other side of town, (Y/N) is trying to find a way to get herself out of the room they put locked her in. She managed to get out of the rope they used to tie her to the chair. She put her ear up against the door and listened.

“Looks like I got what I wanted: our pretty little canary is back!” she heard their leader cheer. “Not only that, but we now have our key on taking down Fake Chop!” She scoffed at his statement. There was no way she was their weakness. It’s not like she was that important to them. “Now come on, go grab her. Our guests are about to arrive!” Her eyes widened as she hid next to the door.

It opened and one of the members walked in. “What the-” Instead of taking the opportunity to take the girl out, she ran out the door and locked it behind her. “HEY! Get back here!”

She batted her eyelashes. “Sorry, but I have some business to attend to.” She blew a kiss and ran to where everyone was going in. She stopped and hid by the doorway as she watched James walk in.

“Glad you can show up.”

“Where is she?”

The leader chuckled. “Wanna get down to business I see.” She took a step back. “One of my girls should be here any moment with her.” She turned around, and (Y/N) hid behind the wall. “Or, if I’m not mistaken, she managed to escape and is standing right by that doorway.” She raised an eyebrow and looked both ways to see two women pointing guns at her. “You might want to come out dearie.” She put her hands up and walked out with the two women holding her at gunpoint. “Well well well, good to know you haven’t changed one bit my beautiful canary.”

“Look Robin, you probably just wanted me back. There’s no need to drag them into this,” (Y/N) spoke up.

“Now that’s where you’re wrong.” She walked towards her with the grin she knew oh-too-well.

“Now sweetie, you know that’s now how this works.” She took her face in her hands. “But since lover boy over here has been playing by the rules, there’s a good chance that I’ll get what I want.” Robin turned towards James. “Now, did you bring me what I wanted?”

He set the suitcase down on the nearby table. James opened it to showcase the array of weapons and stacks of money. “Look I followed all of your orders, now please just let her go?” He questioned.

Robin laughed as two of the girls held his arms. “Oh, I only told her that you would be able to see that she was alive, and now that you brought me everything I asked for, I’m going to kill her!”

“You lying bitch!” James yelled. Two more girls came to help restrain him as he fought to get out of their grips. “Why would you do this?”

“Because she left!” Robin smirked. “Now that we have her back, she has a choice: she either rejoins the crew or leaves the only way you’re allowed to.” She took out her blade and took a step closer to (Y/N). “Now my sweet canary, as gorgeous as you are, I’m afraid I have to kill you.” She stabbed her stomach once. “But don’t worry, I’m going to love every moment of this torture.” She stabbed her once more. Before she could get a third stab in, she heard two gunshots. “What part of come alone did you not understand?” Her attention was turned towards James, who was able to free himself from their grip.

“I suggest you run,” he said through gritted teeth, “because trust me, I’m someone you don’t want to fuck with.” Robin’s eyes widened as she motioned her crew to retreat: of course, she gave (Y/N) one last stab before she ran off.

James immediately ran to her side as the Harpies fled. “Come on (Y/N). You gotta stay awake,” he whispered. He looked down as the blood poured out. He tore off a piece of his shirt and attempted to apply pressure on all three wounds to stop the bleeding. He heard the doors behind him fly open as everyone ran in.

“Aleks, go after her. Trevor, go around the side and cut them off. Asher, bring (Y/N) to the van and bring her to the base,” Brett commanded. He walked over to James as Asher took her out of his arms. “I’m sorry this all happened, but she’ll be okay.”

Soon enough, they were back at the base with no luck in catching the Harpies. Asher told James which room she was in, and he immediately made his way there. He walked into her room and looked at her sleeping body. He pulled a chair up to the bed and took her hand in his. She stirred, and her eyes fluttered opened. “Hey you,” she managed to say.

“Hey,” he whispered. He brought her hand up to his lips. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Well, more or less,” she said in attempt to lighten the mood. “Why’d you come after me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why did you seem so keen on saving me?” she repeated. “I knew in a heartbeat that they would have left me to die if something happened to me, which is why I became a freelancer. So, why’d you save me?”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “You can drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand.” He placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “I will follow you, no matter what.”

“Cross your heart and hope to die?”

He went through the motions and held his right hand up. “I promise you I’ll never leave your side.”

#James Wilson Imagine #Cow Chop Imagine #GTA AU #Reader Insert #Song Fic #TrecoTrash Writes

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diyunho · 7 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “The One You Love The Most”

You older brother, Jonathan Crane, was showing The Joker his latest psychological weapon when things went wrong. As a result, The King of Gotham won’t be able to see your face or hear your voice again until The Scarecrow finds an antidote. If he can find one, that is…

You just got out of the shower and take a look at your cell: 6 missed calls from your brother. Must be something important. You immediately dial back his digits and he picks up right away.

“Hey, Jonathan.”

“Sis, is J back yet??” he yells in the phone, panicking.

“No, I don’t think so. I was in the shower for the last 15 minutes. I can barely hear you; where are you?”

“At my cabin, bad signal in the woods!”

“What was that? Your voice sounds so distorted, can’t really make out what you’re saying,” you frown, taking him off the speaker to see if it will help any.

“I think J is on his way to the Penthouse. Don’t let him see you or hear your voice! Do you understand? I’m coming!” your older sibling shouts, looking around for his car keys.

“What?” you ask, confused. You just heard bits and pieces.

“Don’t let him see you or hear your voice, Y/N!”

“Huh, why?!”

“Just listen to me, I don’t have time to explain, the signal is terrible!”

“What did you say? You’re cutting out!” you move around the bedroom, hoping for an improvement.

“Don’t… let …him… … … OK?” the muffled warning barely makes it through before the call is dropped.

“Jonathan? Hello?…”

You try to call him a few times without success; it goes straight to voice mail.

What in the world is going on?! you wonder, getting dressed for the evening.

Suddenly, you distinguish heavy steps on the hallway, then a door being slammed.

“J?” you get out of the master bedroom, quickly scanning the premises.

There’s clamoring coming from upstairs and you follow the noise.

“J?”

No answer but you find yourself in front of his office; the commotion is coming from inside. You open the door and step in. The Joker is breathing so loud it startles you. His forehead leans on the filing cabinet, broken glass at his feet.

“Are you alright?” you rush by his side, touching his waist.

“Get out!” he hisses, wheezing, struggling to keep it together. “Something is wrong, get out!”

“I just talked to Jonathan and…”

J turns his head towards you and in a split second you find yourself crushed against the wall, his hands around your neck so tight the bones will snap soon. The strong pressure is extremely intense; you can’t make a sound. You dig your nails in his skin, trying to push him away but he still won’t let go. His eyes are bloodshot, there’s nothing inside but the abyss. You feel you will pass out soon.

“Boss, what are you doing?!” Frost dashes inside, followed by other henchmen. Jonny attempts to pull the Joker away and he won’t budge. More of your men jump him and finally manage to separate you two. J keeps on snarling and growling, just like a rabid beast. You fall to the floor, coughing and deeply inhaling, hungry for air. The last thing you see is your boyfriend fighting everyone, completely out of control and them finally managing to pin him to the floor while he still wants to reach you so he can finish what he started.

******************

“Hi sis,” you hear your brother’s voice as you open your eyes. His fingers rest on your bruised up neck, holding a cold compress around it.

“Jonathan…” you barely whisper, straining to talk; your voice sounds raspy and it hurts so bad your eyes get watery.

“Don’t talk, please. Your vocal cords are inflamed and swollen; he almost broke your neck,” your sibling gulps, worried sick. “After I called and couldn’t reach you, I tried Frost and all the numbers I have on my phone. I’m glad I was able to get a hold of your people.”

“Where’s J ?” you mutter, trying to get up. The burning sensation in your throat makes you fall back on the pillows.

“Stop talking, Y/N. He’s fine now,” Jonathan releases his grip, taking a sit on the bed. The look in your eyes gives him no choice but to explain what happened. “I was showing him what I’m working on and he yanked the canister out of my hand to take a better look. It accidentally opened and J was exposed to the gas; I had my mask on so it didn’t affect me. The room filled up so quickly with the thick fumes I couldn’t see anything anymore. He ran out before I could stop him,” you brother explains, repeatedly kissing your right hand, feeling very guilty his only sister was affected by this new invention. Otherwise, he wouldn’t give a damn.

“It makes you… kill people?” you struggle to swallow; it’s so difficult to even breathe right now.

“It makes you…let go,” he sighs, giving up on asking you not to talk because you won’t listen. ” Once you are exposed to the vapors , all the anger, chaos and rage you keep bottled up inside will surface in a few moments after … after…” he stops, staring at the ceiling.

“After what?” you touch his arm, curious and upset in the same time.

“After… you see the face of the person you love the most or hear their voice…or both…” Jonathan glares at your hand that he keeps on kissing.

You feel you heart sink.

“That’s… that’s fucked up!” and the effort of trying to speak loud makes your throat constrict even more.

“It didn’t sound like a praise; you would normally be thrilled with something twisted like this,” he sniffles, attempting to joke.

“Not if it impacts my life,” you get on your elbow, your husky voice shaking with anxiety.

“Well, if you ever had any doubts if he loves you or not, now you know.”

“It’s not funny!” you cut him off, coughing up a storm and he helps you up so you can sit by him.

“I know, I’m sorry…” he remorsefully apologizes for his mistake.

“Is there an antidote?”

“Not yet; I wasn’t planning to make one but now I’ll have to. The rage goes away on its own if he doesn’t see you or hears you for about 30 minutes. But he will react to seeing your face or hearing your voice every single time. You’ll have to cover up your face with a mask around him and don’t make a sound. Not until I find a remedy…ok?”

“Did you tell him?” you inquire, whimpering.

“U-hum…as expected, he wasn’t very happy…and that’s an understatement…” Jonathan squeezes you to his side and you start crying on his shoulder.

***************

You sneak in the master bedroom, wearing one of the cute masks you usually use when you go on heists. The Joker is by the window, deep in thought, gazing outside at the light up Gotham buildings. He feels your presence and turns around, analyzing you as you approach.

“Stay away from me, Doll !” he sneers, biting on his lower lip.

You nod a no and continue to approach.

“Go lock yourself in one of the bedrooms and don’t come out!” he commands and you stop in front of him, pointing towards your mask. “I know what your brother said, but I don’t trust myself. Go!” he points his finger towards the door, backing out.

You boyfriend notices the marks on your neck and lowers his hand, distressed.

“I… I do a lot of stuff… but this wasn’t intentional,” J mumbles, mostly to himself but you heard it anyway.

You nod a yes and he stops you when you move closer.

“Go away, Y/N!”

You ignore his request and seem so eager to hug him that The Joker doesn’t push you away; he hesitantly places his arms around you, tightly holding you.

After a few minutes, you break the embrace and he sadly watches you head towards the door, thinking you are going away. But you just turn off the light and now it’s dark. Only the faint glimpse coming from the outside nightlife illuminates the room.

“What are you doing, Princess?” He distinguishes your shape as you take off your mask and he closes his eyes. “Don’t do that! Get out of here!”

You are not afraid though: you trust Jonathan and what he told you. As long as J can’t see or hear you, you should be fine. You drag J in bed, cuddling to him and he doesn’t really fight it. You won’t know, but he is very scared he will open his eyes and see you even if it’s dark. He keeps his eyelids shut together so firmly it stings and you kiss them, signaling him to relax.

“You shouldn’t stay here,” he grumbles in your ear, but doesn’t let go. “I can’t believe you’re the trigger for me, Pumpkin. How embarrassing for The King Of Gotham to care about his girl that much, right?… I thought the catalyst would be Frost,” he sniffles your perfume, then finds your lips and kisses you.

Your chest is going up and down in a silent laugher, until the pain in your neck makes you stop.

“That’s a good one, hm? I’m hilarious…” The Joker concludes, but he sounds unhappy; not the usual sarcasm you would expect. “Jonathan hid all your pictures we have around the Penthouse and erased the images of you from my cell. Apparently, I can’t see you at all. Or hear your voice. This really sucks, Pumpkin,” he buries his face in your cleavage and you brush your lips on his forehead. “Does this mean we can’t have sex until he finds the antidote? Because you get so loud and scream my name and all…Are you laughing again? Yes, I’m funny…” he sulks and you cover his ears. “What does it mean, Doll?” he tries to guess. “Earplugs?”

He takes you kissing him as a yes and he’s correct.

“Hey, maybe loud music too, just in case…” he rambles on and he gets another kiss. “Is that a yes? Cool. But I like to hear you,” he pouts, glad he distracted you away from the real issue for a while.

You are grateful he distracted himself from it.

***************

Your brother is working like crazy to find a cure for his psychological weapon. Two months have passed and the experiments failed so far. The last attempt was last week at Jonathan’s hideout. J was chained to the wall and you took off your mask. You didn’t even have a chance to speak a word: the second he saw your face, he went insane, fighting to get to you and your sibling, wanting to tear you both to pieces. The Joker was struggling so violently that the chains were hurting his skin and you had to sedate him in order to make him stop.

Another unsuccessful trial.

****************

Three more months go by and nothing. Every time the Scarecrow finds something, it just doesn’t work. His genius and skill have the right approach, but something doesn’t click together. The whole ordeal makes life very difficult for you and J: he hates it that he can’t see you or hear you at all. You detest wearing those masks you used to like, not being able to make a single sound: you write things on paper or text him, the only ways you can communicate.

You can’t even cry or laugh in his presence; it makes you so depressed when you have to run away from him in order to bowl your eyes out due to your frustration reaching insufferable heights. And you can’t laugh out loud at his jokes; The Joker assumes you are by your body language – the silent chuckle doesn’t please him. He misses you giggling at his stupid pranks and the puns he comes up with just for you. The silence is becoming unbearable. And he thought he would be happy with you not talking so much all the time.

How embarrassing for The King Of Gotham to care about his girl that much.

****************

Something kind of worked yesterday: Jonathan tested the new formula and after J heard your voice it took about 30 seconds before he lost it, not an instant reaction anymore.

Your brother wants to do another experiment today after adding a new component to the equation. While he’s putting everything together, you are preparing your boyfriend in the lab.

“I’m sooo sick of this!” The Joker fusses, taking his jacket off. “Why is he so slow in finding a remedy??!” J cracks his fingers, irritated. “Come chain me!” he urges you, mad before the trial even begins. “I really miss you, goddammit!!” and the chair he’s supposed to sit on gets kicked and knocked to the floor. You silently watch his tantrum because you can’t say anything anyway. It breaks your heart since you are aware The Joker didn’t even realize he admitted that aloud.

You hug him from behind and he cools down, taking deep breaths and fixing his green hair that’s not perfectly sleek as a result of the outburst. “Fuck, I really wanna see you, Kitten!” he chews his words, holding your hands and he feels your kiss on his back.

You take advantage of the fact that he’s not facing you, rapidly yanking your right arm away and press the button that seals the lab. The hissing sound makes him turn around.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, confused.

You are very aware this is not the best idea ever, but you can’t help it. You’re more impulsive than he is.

“It’s Ok, baby,” the words echo in the lab and his eyes get big, already slave to the trigger.

“Stop talking! Get out!” and he pushes you towards the door, frantically breathing.“What’s the code? Open it! You have a few seconds before I won’t know you anymore!”

“Only me and Jonathan know the code. He’s upstairs, he won’t help.” You take your mask off and crush it under your feet before he can stop you. “Look at me!” you force his face towards you and he shuts his eyes, shaking from the pressure building up inside him. He can’t control it for too long. “Open your eyes, J. You already heard my voice, seeing me won’t change the outcome. All the same now,” you keep your composure and he finally blinks, gazing upon his woman after so many months.

“Run!” he growls, the intoxicating anger taking over more.

“No,” you cup his face and those deep, almost inhuman sounds he’s starting to make give you goosebumps.

“Hide, do something!!!!!” The Joker pushes you away with all his strength and you trip on some cables, falling down on your side.

“Try not to hurt me,” you whimper while he bangs his head against the heavy glass door, the world starting to fade. His fingers scrape the electronic pad, J’s last attempt to make the doors open so you can flee.

You slide on the floor towards the corner of the lab, trembling and bracing for what’s coming, doubtful about your decision. The Joker grunts and switches his position, the bloodshot eyes searching around to see if there’s someone whom he can tear apart. That’s the only thing he wants: to kill, break and crush.

You watch him come closer, snarling; he definitely noticed you since you didn’t even try to hide.

“J, please stop…” your shaky voice pleads as you bring your knees up to your chin. He has such a feral expression on his face it makes you cringe. “I will fight you but you’re stronger,” you gulp, tears falling down your face. “Calm down, OK?”

He’s getting closer.

“If the person you love the most triggers this, why can’t they stop it? Please stop!!!” you beg, so tense every muscle in your body twitches with anticipation. ” It’s me…” and you don’t have a chance to continue because he charges at you, grabbing and slamming you to the floor, punching and trying to choke the life out of you. You kick him and fight his rampage, sensing you’re going to lose the battle soon.

“Stop! It’s me! Stop!” you punch him in the face as hard as you can and he gets a bit dizzy, releasing his hold for a moment. You take advantage of it and push him aside, crawling away, coughing and crying in the same time. You feel your leg being scratched and scream in pain while The Joker wants to pull you under him again.

“It’s me, stop!” you shout, blood dripping from your busted lip and the taste of it makes you gag.“You’re k-killing me, s-stop…” you stutter when his fingers find their way to your neck again. You grunt under his weight, wiggling and clawing at his shirt, trying to get him off you. “ You’re…k-killing m-me…” you manage to repeat and he pins your hands above your head, enraged you’re feisty.

Since he’s not strangling you anymore, at least you can talk.

“You s-said you miss me,” you squirm to break free. “You’ll miss me even more if I’m dead!” He stares at you, not understanding the meaning of what just came out of your mouth. “ Don’t kill me…” you look in his eyes and he keeps on staring back. “ Please…let go… you’ll miss me more if I’m dead,” you whimper, not breaking eye contact.

The Joker’s face comes really close to yours and he sniffles on your scent, intrigued. His nails and cold rings dig at your wrists and you contain the burning ache, continuing to speak.

“Don’t you recognize me?… It’s me…It’s me,” you carefully remove your left hand from his hold so you won’t provoke him more. “Don’t you recognize your girl?” you gently touch his cheek and he growls, confused. “It’s your Y/N, don’t kill me…”

You are so stiff, getting ready to fight in case he attacks again. But his head unexpectedly drops on your chest, his body relaxing a bit. He’s wheezing so loud you’re afraid he will faint.

**************

Jonathan dials the code to open the lab, wondering why the hell it’s sealed. He steps inside and gasps when he sees the signs of a struggle, broken vials and blood on the floor.

“Jesus…” your brother mutters, stunned when he realizes you are trapped against the far wall with The Joker’s head in your lap, his arms wrapped around your knees. He’s breathing is erratic and seems in a deep daze.

“Sstttt,” you gesture, exhausted. You and J are full of bruises and cuts, your clothes ripped and stained with blood.

“What the hell happened?!” Jonathan whispers and kneels by you, wiping some blood from your lips.“Where’s your mask?!”

“I’ll tell you later, let him sleep. Can you bring me a blanket?” you quietly demand, still shaking from the incident.

“Of course,” he crinkles his nose, getting up and strutting towards the exit, eager to find out about the events.

The Joker mumbles something you can’t understand and you stroke his cheek, relieved. J was impossible to control without an antidote and yet, he didn’t kill you.

How embarrassing for The King Of Gotham to care about his girl that much.