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takadasaiko · 4 years

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The Happy Couple (a Veronica Mars one shot)

FFN II AO3

Summary: When Logan and Veronica attend an engagement party for one of Logan's squad members, shenanigans and close calls ensue.

The Happy Couple

"I know I've only met Siesta once, but I have a really hard time seeing him as being the fancy steak and seafood, suit and tie kinda engagement party guy," Veronica shouted over her shoulder as she heard the bathroom door open from across the hall.

She heard Logan chuckle. "If you'd met him twice, you'd know he's not anykind of engagement party kinda guy. Wow."

Veronica turned fully from where she was hooking a pair of earrings into place to see her boyfriend standing in the doorway to the bedroom, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and staring wide-eyed. His gaze drifted up and down from the simple little black dress that ended a few inches above the knee to the five inch heels that she was hoping wouldn't land her on her face by the end of the night. He ran a hand through his shortly cropped hair, water from his shower jumping off the strands. "It's official: we're getting dressed up more often."

That pulled a smirk from her and she turned her back towards him. "Zip me up?"

"Do I have to?" he asked lightly as he crossed the room, his deft fingers pulling at the dress rather than the zipper.

She popped her elbow back, catching him right in the ribs and receiving a soft ooffor her effort. "You're the one that said we couldn't be late."

"Some things are worth it," he answered, his breath hot on her shoulder and she felt his lips ghost across bare skin.

Veronica leaned back into his touch, eyes drifting closed. "We're not going to make it all if you keep that up."

Logan made a soft, frustrated sound before he pressed a final kiss against her shoulder and straightened. He tugged the zipper up, closing the back of the dress and she turned to watch him trudge his way into the closet to get dressed. Her lips quirked upward at his sulky attitude. "So I take it that the whole fancy-smancy part is the fiancée's doing?"

"Her dad, from what we've heard. Supposedly he's a real tightass. Doesn't want his precious baby girl marrying some flyboy or something," he said flippantly, re-emerging from the closet in slacks and a button up that still hung open as he worked at the buttons in his sleeves. "I don't know the whole story. Siesta was bitching about it over beers a few weeks ago."

"What is Siesta's real name? Because I'm not calling him that in public."

Logan snorted a laugh as he finished buttoning his shirt, tucking it in and reaching for his sports coat. "Tyler. Barrett."

"And the fiancée?" Veronica pressed as she reached for her necklace. Final touch and then she'd be ready to leave. If they were late now it was on Logan.

He paused where he was lacing his loafers, nose crunching up just a little as he thought. "Haley? Hannah? Heather, maybe. Starts with an H."

"That's helpful."

He shrugged and straightened, extending a hand to her. "You ready?"

A small smile tilted her lips as she took the offered hand and he pressed a kiss playfully against her knuckles.

The drive down to San Diego took a little longer than expected, but somehow they still managed to pull up to the valet with five minutes to spare. Logan tossed his car keys over and moved to offer Veronica an arm for balance that she took reluctantly. "Trying to convince the masses you're not pint sized?" he asked so quietly she was the only one that could hear him and he motioned at the shoes.

"They went with the dress, but I like being petite. People tend to underestimate me."

"Their funeral."

She shot him an approving look and he pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head as they entered the restaurant connected to the hotel.

They were directed to the back where a crowd was already gathered, new and semi-familiar individuals mulling about and playing at being social. Veronica was never thrilled by these events. The idea of trying to make small talk for several hours was exhausting just to think about, and even worse when the wives and the girlfriends corralled her to ask when she and Logan were planning on tying the knot. Apparently "why ruin a good thing?" wasn't a concept that they understood. It didn't look like a strictly squad event, though, with the number of people milling about. Likely Haley-Hannah-Heather had invited a few friends as well. Maybe Veronica could avoid being cornered until she and Logan finally slipped out that evening.

"When did you two sneak in?"

Veronica turned to see Siesta - Tyler, she reminded herself - sauntering towards them with that lazy smile that was only partially responsible for the call sign. Logan has told her stories about their flight school days when they had found Tyler tucked away in the strangest places just trying to nab a couple extra minutes of shuteye.

"Just a second ago," Logan answered, flashing a grin. "Looks like we beat Riles though. Is he bringing that new girlfriend he's been so secretive about?"

"He better. I see you brought yours. How's it going, Veronica? Cleared any other innocent scapegoats of murder charges lately?"

Veronica's lips tilted ever so slightly at the reference. "Our sheriff's ineptitude keeps us busy," she offered with a shrug. "At least until we can vote him out for someone better, then it's back to the same ol' cases."

"Don't let her downplay it like that. Her cases have always had flair," Logan chuckled.

"You two haven't met Hannah yet have you?" Siesta glanced over his shoulder and shouted, "Hannah, come meet Hollywood and Veronica."

"Hannah," Logan confirmed in a whisper so quiet Veronica almost had to read his lips. She rolled her eyes and elbowed him lightly, pulling a grin from him as a tall, pretty blonde woman glider over to them. Funny, she looked vaguely familiar. Maybe they had met her.

"Hannah?" Logan managed, surprise etched into his tone.

Siesta's fiancée smiled. "Logan Echolls! Hollywood. Somehow all the stories make sense now."

"When did you get back to the West Coast?"

"College. San Diego State. I stuck around after and met Tyler." She turned towards Siesta. "Logan and I dated a little in high school," she explained. "What a small world."

"Hannah Griffith?" Veronica choked out and the younger woman offered a smile.

"Nearly Barrett, but yes."

Veronica shot Logan a look and by the way he was casually glancing through the crowd she thought he must have been thinking along the same lines. He cleared his throat. "Siesta - Tyler - mentioned your dad was putting this on."

"Yeah, we kinda got roped into it," the other pilot confirmed. "You ever meet him?"

"Yep, and that is exactly the reason Veronica and I are gonna have to wish you guys a good night and head back to Neptune. Call it a bonus engagement gift."

Tyler tilted his head curiously. "Couldn't have been thatbad, Echolls."

"Oh it was."

"Remember the boyfriend from high school my parents shipped me to the East Coast because of?" Hannah asked and Tyler burst out laughing.

"That was you? Hell, Hollywood, you were wild."

"They were interesting days," Logan offered noncommittally. "I don't want to cause any drama or anything, so we'll just —"

"Don't be silly," Hannah cut him off. "My dad has already hijacked the party, we won't let him hijack the guest list too. We want you here."

Logan opened his mouth to argue and Siesta cut him off. "Nope. You don't get a say in it. For once I get to give you an order."

Veronica pulled in a breath. "I'll do what I can to keep him out of any serious trouble."

Siesta offered her a lopsided grin and a wink. "Counting on you, V."

Hannah laughed as he slung an arm around her shoulders and started them towards a far table to greet other guests. "If he gives you any trouble, let me know!" she shouted over her shoulder and they were gone.

Veronica looked over to Logan. "So, your wingman's engaged to the daughter of the man that tried to frame you for murder on behalf of the Fitzpatricks. The daughter you dated."

"Only in Neptune," he huffed. "And apparently Neptune's reach is growing to San Diego."

Veronica risked a glance over to where the willowy teenager turned beautiful woman greeted another member of Logan's squad and she knew it was going to be a long evening. "I need a drink."

"I think that can be arranged," Logan answered lightly and fell into step with her as she strode intentionally towards the bar.

-------

A couple of hours later Logan was happily surprised at the drama-free dinner. The focus remained on the happy couple - with a brief exception of Riley showing up alone and Kasper declaring the new girlfriend fictional until proven otherwise - and everyone was eating and drinking. Even Veronica seemed to be having a good time as she joined in the push on Riley for a name at the very least.

"You gotta be shitting me. I give this girl a name and she'll turn up with a full background check and surveillance," Riley laughed, taking a l by swig of his beer.

Veronica flashed a devilish grin. "Afraid what I'll find?"

"Afraid you'll scare her off," Logan's WSO answered and glanced past Veronica to Logan himself. "Any help, man?"

Logan snorted and reached for the bourbon in front of him. "I learned a long time ago I have no way to stop Veronica Mars once she's put her mind to something. Good luck, Riles."

The table erupted in laughter and Riley gave a dramatic sigh as Logan excused himself from the table, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Veronica's head before stepping away. He wound his way back towards the restrooms, but instinct flashed and he turned, already moving to block as a hand tried to close on his bicep. Tom Griffith stood there, a little startled by the fast reflexes, and Logan put half a step more distance between them as he squared his shoulders. He didn't think the man was foolish enough to take a swing at him, but he didn't want to risk it either. Not at Siesta and Hannah's engagement party.

"When my daughter told me she was marrying a Navy pilot, I was hesitant. The company he keeps, though —"

"A whole flight of steps up from your usual crowd," Logan popped back.

"I don't know how you know him or how you swung an invitation without my knowledge, but you need to go."

"My guess is he put us all down by call signs." Logan watched the meaning sink in.

"You're a pilot?"

"I'm Siesta's squad leader." Even after so many years, it felt good to watch the man squirm. It would have been one thing if Logan had just been a buddy, but there was no missing that the squad had a different sort of relationship with the groom-to-be than any of his other friends. There was a respect there that couldn't be beat.

"Does he know….?"

"That you lied and tried to set me up for murder at the request of a bunch of Irish drug peddlers?" Yep. There was something satisfying in that twitch just below his eye. "Not from me. If it's something he needs to know, my guess is Hannah will tell him."

Griffith took an aggressive step forward and Logan put his hands up, even as the other man took hold of the lapels on his coat. "You stay away from my daughter," he snarled.

"Dad!"

Griffith instantly released Logan and they both turned to see Hannah standing in the hall entrance. "Hannah—"

"Don't. You were the one that demanded we have this when all Tyler and I wanted was a few friends getting together. Logan's his guest - his friend- and I don't want you ruining this."

Logan blinked in surprise. It looked like sweet little Hannah had grown into a force to be reckoned with. Good for her.

Griffith looked like he might argue, but stopped last second. "It's your party, honey," he said flatly and started back down the hall to the main room.

Hannah waited until he was gone and loosed a sigh, turning back to Logan. "Tyler always described his buddy Hollywood as kind of a hothead, so I guess I should thank you for not punching my dad. He looked like he would have deserved it."

Logan shrugged and offered a lopsided smile. "I learned to pick my battles a little more carefully these days. Your dad would have deserved it, but you and Tyler don't." He nodded past her. "Veronica ever manage to get the name outta Riley?"

"Not yet, but she seems determined."

"She'll have it by the end of the night."

"That good, huh?"

"The best."

Hannah grinned at that. "Does that mean we'll be going to your engagement party sometime soon?"

Logan snorted a laugh. "She'd have to say yes first."

"You don't think she would?"

"It's… complicated. We love each other and we're in a good place. No reason to rock the boat yet."

"I forgot who I'm talking to," Hannah laughed.

"We'll get there. You picked yourself a good one, though, for whatever my opinion's worth."

"Sounds like you did too. Tyler adores her, and I think he's only met her once."

Logan offered a grin. "The guys all love her because she was able to clear my name when Carrie was murdered." He paused, shaking his head with a mirthless chuckle. "Also falsely accused then too. I guess I'm just an easy target to pin murder on."

"I'm not sure what that says about you," Hannah said with a small smile.

The quip just about danced off his tongue before he swallowed it back down. "I should let you get back to your party."

"You're not going, are you?"

"I'll be back out in a second. Gotta see just how hard Veronica's pushing for that name. Pretty sure some of the guys have money riding on it."

"I wouldn't bet against her," Hannah offered and Logan flashed a smile.

"Neither would I."

------

Veronica hadn't realized just how long Logan had been gone until she saw Tom Griffith slinking back into their corner of the restaurant like a dog with his tail between his legs. A quick glance showed Hannah was missing too and that Logan hadn't gotten caught talking to one of his fellow squad members.

"Hey," she called, nudging Dave Riley in the arm so that he turned to look at her.

"If you're going to try the direct approach again, still not going to work, V," he answered with a huff.

"No, I'm over that," she lied. "Did you see where Logan snuck off to?"

"Restroom, I think." He turned to look towards the hall and Veronica spotted his unprotected cell phone on the table next to him.

"Ten minutes ago. Here, watch my purse?" She flopped the small, black purse on the table over the phone and palmed the device in one smooth motion, taking it with her as she started towards the hall, hoping that Riley didn't realize what she was doing too soon and run after her. There was zero doubt in her mind that he could catch up to her while she was wearing heels and she was pretty sure that kicking them off and sprinting down the way would be frowned upon by the staff.

She made her escape and slipped into the hall, passing Hannah there. Veronica made it two steps past her and paused. "Did you see Logan?" she asked, turning.

Hannah gave a dainty little grimace. "He had a run in with my dad."

Veronica felt like someone had punched her. A run in? Oh no. That was…. Not good. She thought she would have heard a fight and Dr Griffith hadn't looked worse for wear, but if he'd cornered Logan, if he'd pushed the subject….

"Oh, no, everything's fine," Hannah laughed, and Veronica wondered just how pale she'd gotten in that half a moment. "It stopped before it went too far and Logan showed more restraint than Dad probably deserved."

Relief swept through her. "Sorry, I know that has to be awkward."

"It's worth it. I know how much Tyler respects him, and it's good to see Logan so…."

"Grown up?" Veronica offered.

Hannah shrugged. "He was living alone in a hotel when I knew him, so back then, to me, he was grown up. Definitely more than I was. I was going to say happy."

The door opened down the way and Logan sauntered out, adjusting the sleeves on his jacket and quirking an eyebrow at them both. "Hi?"

"I should get back out there. Good luck." The younger woman glanced down at the cell phone in Veronica's hand and Veronica tilted her head in question. How on earth did she know that wasn't hers?

"I may have mentioned that the guys have a bet going on how quick you're going to put a crack in Riles' secret," Logan answered the unasked question with a grin and came to stand directly in front of her.

"Oh yeah? What's on the table?"

"Paperwork. The worst part of the job."

She snorted a laugh. "And where did you place your bet?"

"With the winner, of course." He wrapped his arms loosely around her, his fingers laced loosely at the small of her back, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. "I would like to point out that Riley bet against you."

"That bastard. What do you say we show him?"

"Please do."

She grinned and didn't have to tip up on her toes too much to press a kiss against his lips before she pulled away to start working on the phone. It was password protected, but she'd been watching all evening. Riley had been careful at first, but the longer she went without actively pressing for the name and the more he drank, the less he watched her watching him. Finally, he'd slipped, and she'd managed to catch a glimpse of the code he typed in.

"How did he miss you taking his phone?"

"I put my purse on top of it."

"Good call."

Veronica started scrolling through recent calls and didn't have to go very far before she found a familiar name. "You don't have a Mac that you guys know, do you?"

Logan shook his head. "Not since OCS."

She clicked on the name and pulled up a picture of one of Veronica's best friends and…. Riley. The two of them were leaned in close and grinned up at the camera. "Oh."

"Huh," Logan agreed and they stood there for a long moment.

"Hey, you two," Siesta's voice drifted down the hall and he leaned around the corner. "Hurry up. They're toasting yours truly. Whatcha got?"

Logan grabbed the phone, putting it instantly to sleep. "Nothing," he answered with an innocent smile. "Be out in a sec."

Siesta shot them both a suspicious look but shrugged it off, leaving them alone in the hall, and Veronica shot her boyfriend a look. "Is it worth the paperwork to give them their privacy?"

"You willing to let them think you couldn't crack it?"

Veronica cringed at the idea, hating the idea, but it was quickly replaced by a smirk as she snagged the phone back, her fingers working quickly. "Most of them."

She ignored Logan's confused look as she started back out towards the table where they had been seated at the find Riley deep in conversation with one of the other aviators. He didn't glance up until she set his phone down in front of him. He stopped, started, and then turned towards her. "You stole my phone."

"You bet I did."

"You, uh… get into it?"

It was always interesting how quickly others seemed to pretend to busy themselves with anything else while still obviously eavesdropping. Thankfully someone was stepping up to the front - Siesta's brother, Veronica thought she remembered - to make a toast to the newly engaged couple and she and Logan were able to retake their seats. Riley reached for his phone and blinked hard at the background that was saved there. He turned, discreetly showing it to both Veronica and Logan who snorted a laugh behind her at the photo that had only been assigned to Mac's information before. Veronica offered a sly smile. "Your secret's safe with us, but only because it's her."

"And because she doesn't want to one-up the happy couple," Logan offered in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, sure. We'll say that too."

Riley rolled his eyes and turned intentionally back to the speaker, raising his glass and taking a deep swig of it.

Veronica raised her glass and cheered along with the rest of them before looking back to find the man she loved smiling, those soft brown eyes fixed on her in a way that made her heart stutter a little in her chest. Her lips parted slightly as they stretched, and she leaned back in her seat.

Someone else stepped up to talk about Hanna and Tyler and Veronica scooted her chair back a little so that Logan could stretch his arm across the back of it and she could lean into him. She felt his fingers ghosting against her bare shoulder and she felt a strange sense of peace sweep through her. In the midst of exes and past dangers, somehow the night had turned out… enjoyable. Fun, even. Almost like they'd grown and matured to the point that they could sidestep some of the dangers of their youth. It left them in a better place. A steadier place, and it left her feeling more secure than she knew how to comprehend. In that moment, she could almost see them doing this. Not at some fancy hotel restaurant, but somewhere quieter. Maybe at some campfire on the beach where their weird, patchwork group of friends could come together and remind both of them just how far they'd come and just how many odds that they'd beat. Maybe. Someday. For the first time Veronica found herself lingering on the idea and letting it play out, even if it was only in her own mind.

"You okay?"

She turned at his soft whisper and felt the smile tug at her a little more. "Yeah. I don't guess you ended up booking the hotel room here even though I told you not to worry about it?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

Her smile broadened and she laced her fingers through his. "Good," she answered softly and watched his own smile echo hers as they relaxed into each other and listened to the toasts dedicated to the happy couple.

#veronica mars #logan echolls #veronica mars fanfictions #vmfanfic

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delusionalwriterr · 4 years

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Resurgence (1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader

Summary: After accepting a mission from an old friend, you and along with the other Avengers set out to another planet to retrieve a mysterious gem. Little did you know that the gem isn’t the only thing inhabiting the planet and soon found yourselves in a sticky situation.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: slow burn, language, friendship issues, mentions of injuries, death, inaccurate depictions of space travel, angst, fluff

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and any of the other fictional works mentioned.

A/N: I hope y’all like it! Every detail about the mission is purely made up by me so yea HAHAHAH

Prologue | Masterlist | Chapter Two

“You sure you wanna do this, doll?” Bucky asked as he stuffed a few clothes in his duffel bag. The two of you were in your shared bedroom, packing for the mission. After the uncomfortable phone call with Peter, you gathered a few of the Avengers and relayed to them the details.

The Guardians were initially hired to retrieve a gem called the Resurgentium Stone, but the client refused to disclose any more information about it other than where it was and what it looked like. The gem was located on a planet called Mortvivus which was a few lightyears away from Earth and it was a green, irregularly-shaped stone that was about the size of a golf ball.

After explaining everything, the people who were willing to help you were Steve, Sam, Natasha, Rhodey, and of course your boyfriend, Bucky. Tony opted to stay behind to watch over the compound, but you all know he’s still petrified to go back into space after being stuck there for almost a month.

“I’m sure,” you replied, shooting Bucky an assuring smile. “Without me piloting that ship, who knows where you’ll end up.” you quipped, letting out a laugh which Bucky reciprocated. He then proceeded to watch you as you continued to pack, a dazed look in his eyes.

You halted your actions when you caught him from the corner of your eye and stared back. You drew your eyebrows together, an amused smirk displayed on your lips. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer, Sarge.” you teased, causing Bucky to turn red at the nickname. He cleared his throat and went over to where you were seated and situated himself beside you.

He grabbed your hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on your knuckles. While doing this, he made sure to bore his eyes right into yours as you felt your cheeks heat up at the sudden gesture. Even if you and Bucky had been together for a few years now, he still manages to make you a blushing mess after doing the littlest things.

Bucky pulled his lips away from your hand. “You know I love you, right?” he asked, still staring at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. “And that I’d do anything for you?” You beamed before nodding your head and giving his lips a quick peck. “I know. I could say the same to you, Bucky.”

EARTH - 5 MINUTES TO LAUNCH

Soon enough, the six of you were boarding the ship. “Alright, besides Bucky, who’s never been to space?” you asked as everyone took a seat. You looked behind you from the pilot’s chair and saw that Sam’s hand was raised. “Well sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride, birdie.” you teased, making Sam roll his eyes at the silly nickname you always used to get on his nerves.

“Is this thing on?” you heard Tony’s voice through your comms, “Be careful out there, guys.” he said to which Rhodey answered, “We will, man, don’t worry.”

As you were about to take off, you heard him again. “Don’t let anything probe you,” he remarked, causing you to chuckle, “No promises.”

After making sure everyone is fastened to their chairs, you started the ship and took off. At full speed, you drove the ship up and into the sky, driving your body backwards into your seat as you set the thrusters to maximum.

“I just remembered how much I hated space,” you hear Steve mumble, his voice shaky due to the turbulence. A few minutes later, you exited the Earth’s atmosphere and were met with the dark abyss that is space.

“I change my mind, I don’t wanna do this anymore, take me home.” Sam pleaded, drawing a cackle from you as you put the ship on co-pilot, unbuckled your seatbelt, and stood up from your seat.

The others mirrored your actions as you went over to where they were sitting. “If you thought that was bad, wait until we get to the wormhole,” you taunted before hearing a groan from Natasha, “I hate those things,”

“Wait, isn’t that the thing Matthew McConaughey went through in Interstellar where it was all trippy and shit?” Sam inquired, fear in his eyes. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like an excited puppy after hearing the word ‘wormhole’ and turned to you. “I always wanted to go through one of those, please tell me we’re going through one of those.” he pleaded, slightly bouncing up and down. However, the rest of the team were looking mortified.

Bucky never thought he’d be alive during a time when space travel was possible. Hell, he never imagined that he would be able to make it to space, himself! He spent most of his life picturing the day he’d get to see space in person, and here he was staring dreamily out of the window, admiring the view.

You nodded your head before proceeding to explain, “We’ll arrive at the wormhole in approximately two hours, so get comfortable.” You laughed as you earned a collective groan from the rest of the group. “Sorry, guys, but if we don’t use the wormhole we’ll all be at least two hundred years old when we get to Mortvivus.” you explained, shrugging your shoulders as Bucky put an arm around you, a huge grin on his face.

Rhodey scoffed at the sight, “I’m sure that smile is gonna be gone by the time we go through the wormhole.”

SPACE - 1 HOUR TO THE WORMHOLE

The team was eating their lunch on the table at the back of the ship while you were seated in the pilot’s seat, contacting the Guardians. “Doll, come eat with us.” Bucky called from across the room.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you called back, your eyes fixated on the screen in front of you as you tried to reach the Benatar. Your leg bounced up and down, something you tend to do when you were anxious, as you waited for someone to pick up and have their face pop up on the screen. You pray to whoever was listening that it wouldn’t be Peter because you’re still not ready to face him after all those years.

It wasn’t until someone picked up the call and Rocket’s face appeared on your screen when you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Rocket!” you squeeked, your voice going up an octave higher as you tried to hide the relief in your voice with excitement. “Hey, kid! Quill’s eating somewhere on the ship so I’m taking charge of it for a while.” the racoon greeted as he sat in the pilot’s chair, a sling around his arm.

You frowned at the sight and leaned in towards your screen. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting or something? You look pretty banged up.” you pointed out. Rocket was the person (or in this case, rodent) you were closest to after Peter. You had this sibling-type bond that you always found comfort in and you were relieved that it was still comfortable to talk to him after years of not seeing each other.

Rocket scoffed as he waved a dismissive hand. “They can’t keep the real captain away from his ship,” he commented, “enough of that. Where are you? You were supposed to call before you left Earth.”

“Right, sorry about that, it kinda slipped my mind,” you replied, sheepishly scratching the back of your head. “We’re on our way to the wormhole, should be there in an hour or so.” Rocket nodded and turned to the tangled pile of branches beside him, “Wanna say hi to (Y/N)?”

A smile broke into your face as you saw Groot squeeze himself into frame. “I am Groot!” he shouted, voice deeper than the last time you talked to him. “I miss you too, Groot!” you cooed. He then returned to playing his game and you turned your attention back to Rocket. “How are ya, kid?” he questioned, leaning towards his screen, his voice suddenly becoming softer.

You answered by giving him a tight-lipped smile before uttering, “Better as I’ll ever be.” Before he could answer, Gamora emerged from behind him. “Rocket, what did I tell you to get some rest— oh, hi, (Y/N)!” she chirped, coming closer to the monitor. “It’s great to see you again, I hope you’re doing well.”

Your heart warmed at the fact that she still cared about you despite your decision of leaving the team. “It’s great to see you too, Gamora. I hope they’re not giving you a hard time,” you joked, earning a chuckle from her.

Just then, another voice came through that made your whole body tense up. “Is that (Y/N)? Let me talk to her,” Peter’s voice filled your ears. You froze when you heard his footsteps approach the computer as you tried your best to think of an excuse to hang up. Fortunately for you, Bucky called you over another time, “Doll, if you don’t come here and eat, Sam’s gonna steal all your food.”

You quickly turned back to your computer. “I gotta go, I’ll update you when we’re near the planet. Bye.” you rambled, swiftly ending the call before Peter showed up. You sighed and stood up to walk towards the table to join Bucky and the others.

You pulled up a chair next to Bucky and started to eat. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards his body as he looked at you. His eyebrows were drawn together, mentally asking you if you were okay to which you only nodded in return. “So what’s it like going through a wormhole anyway?” Sam piped up. “The worst feeling ever.” Steve grumbled, taking a sip from his coffee.

Sam snapped his head towards his blonde friend, a dirty look on his face. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been turned into space dust before, but I’m pretty sure it’s way worse than travelling through some space portal.” he retorted, earning a laugh from everyone around the table as Steve lifted his arms up in defense. “Y’all still haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out as he turned to you.

You shook your head as you kept shoving spoonfuls of food in your mouth. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

SPACE - 2 MINUTES TO THE WORMHOLE

“Everybody’s seatbelts on?” you asked as you gripped the steering wheel of the ship. “Everything is gonna look really weird when we enter the wormhole— your vision’s gonna get distorted, things around you will look freaky, but that’s totally normal.”

Everyone nodded, too afraid to ask anymore questions. “I don’t think any of this is totally normal,” Sam countered, his knuckles turning white due to the death grip he had on the armrests on his seat. You hear Rhodey mumble in agreement before counting down, “Entering the wormhole in three, two, one.”

You dive into the spherical figure as you saw the light around you bend into something more tunnel-like. You were going through the wormhole in full speed as you felt the ship shake violently. “Why did I agree to this again?” you heard Natasha shout through the noise.

Bucky’s eyes marveled at the sight before him. Distorted stars and planets were whooshing past him at the speed of light, his field of view much wider than normal. He was a full fledged astronaut now, he thought to himself. Rhodey looked over to him to see the same boyish grin on his face as they continued to make their way to the other side of the hole. “Disneyland rides must seem like nothing to you,” he commented.

After a few minutes of speeding through space and time, you finally exited the wormhole. You heard Sam release a big huff of air before breathing heavily. “Hold on, I think I left my soul on the other side, go back,” he panted as he clutched a hand to his chest. Steve shook his head as he leaned his head back to rest on his chair, “I’m too old for this.”

“That. was. awesome!” Bucky enunciated, earning glares from the rest of the team and a smile from you. “Good job, babe. Best pilot in the galaxy,” he added, throwing you a wink. You shook your head and focused your attention to what was in front of your ship.

“There it is,” you began. “Mortvivus.”

You shot a quick message to the Benetar, telling the Guardians that you were able to travel through the wormhole successfully and that you were about to land on the planet. With shaky hands, you guided the ship towards the planet and began your descent.

“Here we go.”

A/N: If you want to be tagged, feel free to leave a reply or just message me! ❤️ Requests are open too ⭐️

Taglist: @thewolfgirluniverse

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #sebastian stan #marvel #the avengers #marvel headcannon #delusionalwriterr #resurgence

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celinamarniss · 4 years

Photo

Oh my god, so many asks! I love you and I hate you.

(Thank you, I love you)

From this meme. Long, so behind a cut:

For evilmouse:

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

I’m going to address characters that I have written, and not those that I’ve completely avoided writing. There are definitely characters that I refuse to write at all because I dislike them or simply find them uninteresting. If I despise a character, I’m never going to write for them (the exception to this might be Boba Fett, who showed up in a story. I was nicer to him than I expected, but he was still a long way from the Boba of the movies).

I’m going to say that the character I’ve enjoyed writing the least is Vader. I’m sorry, I just don’t care about Vader. He’s a classic character, and I know that a lot of people are invested his story, but it just doesn’t interest me. Unfortunately, he’s such a major part of the saga I’ve ended up putting him in a couple of stories. He’s in one of my WIPS, and I am not looking forward to writing for him. Writing his scenes in Legacy was like pulling teeth.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

Well, someone just started wrote a story based on a story I wrote, and is there a bigger compliment than getting fic of your fic???? I’ve heard that several other people want to write in that ‘verse and I couldn’t be more thrilled.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?

I keep it a closely guarded secret from most people in my life, but a few rl friends know. All of those friends are fandom people, who “get” fic. They’re not in the same fandom, and they haven’t necessarily read my fic, but they’re kind and supportive.

For jadedjo:

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

I refuse to say that I have any WIPs that I’ve totally abandoned, because I always hold out hope that I might return to the idea one day. However, if I can’t figure out the tone/plot of Experiments this year I might give up on it. Experiments was my “Mara coming to terms with her horrible childhood” fic, in which she investigates the Hand program post-TTT. It felt like a big idea and I was intimidated by it, so it’s remained on the back burner for years. It might be an idea whose time as passed. I need to look at what I’ve written and decide if I can pull a story out of those fragments, or if they should just be cannibalized by another fic.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

Everyone in the fic whining circle, of course!

The fearlessness evilmouse shows in tackling new ships and ideas, ThreadSketchy’s clear and precise prose, the emotional and thematic depth of frangi’s stories, KLC’s dedication and drive, atamascolily’s engrossing worldbuilding, the angst of JediDryad’s Counterpressure series, and JediMordSith’s vivid and emotionally charged writing.

Of all your stories, I particularly admire The Void. It’s tense, grim, and surprising, and you impressed me with your whole cast of OCs.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

POUR AWAY THE OCEAN. I know exactly why it isn’t popular and I can’t blame anyone for skipping it, but it’s my little unloved baby that I always want to champion because it will never be anyone’s favorite.

For door:

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

Huh. This is kind of a complicated question because I used to write this long private series of stories for a couple of friends that featured highly fictionalized versions of ourselves in any movie/tv show/book series of our choice. Our own personal reader inserts as over-the-top chaos agents in silly stories that poked fun at genre tropes. I LOVED writing those stories. They were private stories that have never seen the light of day.

I don’t write those stories anymore. I have several OCs that are very dear to my heart, and I enjoyed making them up, but I have to say that writing those stories about a trio of terrible fictionalized personas will always come first.

4) What is your favourite genre to write for?

Most of my fic are some version of a space adventure, given that I’m writing Star Wars, but breaking that down into further categories, I tend to write romance, smut, action, comedy and feelings. I think my favorite is comedy, actually. Working out a joke or a bit of comedic timing is just so satisfying. I’m sure my sense of humor doesn’t appeal to everyone, but at least I amuse myself.

I like writing jokes into non-comedic stories and a lot of my stories are pretty light and amusing, but the pure comedy stories I’ve written are: SWAK, The Punch of Supreme Friendship, Common Hazards of the Penumbra Sector, and parts of The Death of Jabba.

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind?

I guess I could have killed off Ralrk in Monster Stories, but I didn’t want to be that cruel. It would have been a real bummer ending.

I can’t think of any radically different alternative endings that I considered. Mara/Karrde wasn’t going to be the endgame ship in the Legacy series, but writing The Family Business made me too invested in that relationship to let it go. But it could have remained a casual relationship if I had ended Family Business differently.

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

I started outlining a companion to Wizard of the Dune Sea but got distracted by other things. I hate abandoning a fic idea and I do want to go back and write it. I just need to make time and space for the story. I always meant to do a fourth story in the Non-Zero-Sum Game series, but never figured out the hook. It might be too late now for that series, but you never know.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?

WELL. Wizard of the Dune Sea was supposed to be an experiment in how much I could keep the audience guessing, but the audience already knew what sort of stories I write, and I had the character names right there in the Ao3 tags, so they were on to me from the start.

#meme #process

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askwaterwitch-perbear · 6 years

Text

College Space sister short-story

College, Space sister Honeydew

It had not been long since the uptight strict mother of the three daughters looked over at them and scowled. The girls had been slacking off on their chores. This was something their mother did not approve of. All three had had quite the stressful week. Including Peridot who had broken her left arm and now had a cast with tons of “get well” signs from her friends on it; oh well, at least she was right-handed.

Natalie was not the exception either and though she had done a ton of work for her school. Her responsibilities also limited her from doing the things she enjoyed. Often she would try to sneak off and hunt wild birds while no one was home. Finally, Honey working a job early in the morning and continuing class after into the night. Honeydew was quite the busy bee. She had to be the one to drive Peridot around until the child could learn to drive herself. Since their mother demanded quite loud that the girls ‘should go to bed before she knocked them silly!’

“I’m not dealing with Mom’s crap tonight,” she said. “G'night you two."

Natalie was the first of the three to go up; she nodded at the other two and disappeared into her dark room.

Honeydew crossed the hall and went to her room next turning on her light; she took off her work clothes and changed into basketball shorts and a tank top. She muttered under her breath how ‘the house was always hot.’ She opened the windows of her new room.

She set her bag down scowling at how everyone in her time seemed to believe they knew best when they all were quite pompous and idiotic. She laid down with only a light blanket over herself. In bed, hers was a loft with a computer desk underneath the overhead.

Her silence was broken when she heard a yelp; she knew it likely was her youngest sister so she hopped down from her ladder. Sighing she makes her way to Peridot’s lonely room. She cracked the door open and found the smaller one shivering in her blankets crying tears.

Her siblings "bed” just raised a little off the floor. She felt a little bad. it was not even a real bed it was a pullout trundle bed that was used for sleepovers. Peridot just happened to be small enough to sleep in it. Her gripes with her mother aside. She put her hand on her sibling’s fluffy hair and stroked her with her thumb.

“Hey Shortcake, what is it?"

"Hi…ah, it’s nothing… just a bad dream. My arm just started hurting again…”

Peridot’s blue eyes met her darker ones then she winced. Her older sister nodded at her younger sister. Peridot could feel her cold stare look her over to make sure she was completely happy and healthy without any more ailments. She just was not always the best at showing affection, but the younger teen knew this.

“What time is it?” Peridot asked her trying to sit up on her butt, up until Honey put her arm on her youngest sister’s chest putting a stop to it. “Late. You should be asleep.” The older girl sneered also teasing hers smiling; she was always looking to jab at Peridot. That only caused Peridot to chuckle tiredly. “Oh, yeah? So should you Clod.” The adult pushed the young one back onto her pillow.

“I’m not leaving.” She assured hoping that would lull her back to bed. “Then don’t.” Peridot smiled. “I can’t believe you’re thinking about going into a space program. Won’t mother have your head?” Fredda shook her head at Peridot she spoke again.

“You don’t have to refer to that women in such a proper term. She’s not like any Mother I’ve ever known. But anyway she will just have to deal with it. I’m not a child like you.” Peridot frowned a little at this remark then turned her eyes to her shelf.

“If your not gonna leave will you hand me a book?” The twenty-three-year-old’s eyebrows raised puzzled by her request. “Sorry?” Peridot chuckled again. “A book. The ones on the shelf above me.” Honey smirked. “What? Did you want me to read to you?” The fourteen-year-old shook her head grinning her eyes kinda heavy. “Oh no, the opposite actually.” She grinned more.

“You want to read to me?” Now that was surprising to her. “Exactly,” Peridot replied while smiled. The adult thought this over. ‘Did she have the time? Well, maybe.’

“Yeah, don’t you remember when we used to be bunkmates?” Peri made an adorable face. Her sister just puts her hand on her own face. “Ugh don’t remind me.” She reached over to the shelf as Peridot smiled and laid back with her one good arm behind her head. Honeydew searched through the books ready to test Peridot’s intelligence. “Okay, then what would you like?” “Fiction,“ ”Age class?” “Intermediate.” “General theme?” “Sci-fi!”

With each passing word, Peridot’s excitement grew! Also, to Honey’s surprise, her prodigy sister Peridot could keep up with the same speed of cognitive words. She searched through them Till the taller girl yanked the book free from the shelf with a picture of a rocket, moon, and the billions of stars on the cover.

“Okay. I think I found one."

Honey said while she then helped Peridot to prop up her pillow so she could sit up a bit. "Yeah, that’s a good one!” Peridot agreed as Honeydew shook her head smiling at Peridot’s immaturity. “Scoot.” Commanded the adult. Of course, when commanded, Peri did so, allowing her sister to lay back on the pillow beside her.

“Do you think they’ve made it to other planets far beyond the solar system?”

“If not yet. Then soon. I found some aerospace engineering books around the space program once. I’m thinking with some modifications they may be capable of doing so.” The older girl gave it some thought from her experiences. Peridot nodded her eye growing as she looked through the chapters.

“Oh, those lucky astronauts, one of my friends Pearl she’s interested. Jumping on the moon. Is it cool?” “Mediocre, at best, after all, It’s a floating rock Shortcake.” Depending on all she studied she answered. Peridot scoffs at her giggling a little.

“You’re just a cynical person.” With that remark, Honeydew threw her her arm up around Peridot’s shoulder in a warning her sort of way. Like if she did not pipe down something bad would happen to her. “I prefer the term. "Literal."

Peridot read some out loud about the dark confines of space she pauses, suddenly "How much do you think it would cost to go to the moon Honeydew?”

“Well having to plan, design and build the ship along with packing supplies. Equipment and fuel. I’d say the price would be… "Astronomical.” She rolled her eyes smiling, triggering Peridot to push her with her only good arm laughing!

“Wow, that was pretty good. How do you make space jokes like that?” Honeydew folded her hands. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. And, I guess, when the timing feels right?" The smaller girl laid her head against her shoulder.

"Nah, you just planet,” Peridot smirked all the while she snarkily counteracted with a pun Honeydew groaned and poked her in the tummy causing Peri to squeal and break into peals of laughter!

“Okay, that pun is in serious need of punishment. I’m surprised our neighbors aren’t sleep-cringing at you as we speak.”

Peridot stood up on the mattress snatching an extra pillow and hit her sister with the pillow in her good arm’s hand. “You know? Maybe they’re rolling in rotation laughing at us.”

At this point, Honeydew had enough of her sister’s cheesy puns and her roughhousing. She reached under Peridot’s comforter taking hold of her sister’s ankle; Reaching further with her stronger force, she pulled her sister’s bare ankle forward. She did this so the fourteen-year-old would fall down back in place with her fluffed head against her pillow.

“Listen, You better start reading before it gets too late. I’m not staying long.” That warning only seemed to jolt Peridot back to focus nervously holding her green book, she began. "Space is a place of un-un-f-a-t-h…” “Unfathomable.”

Listening to Peridot struggle her sister pitched in with the big words; all before the elder smirked proudly. “Yes, unfathomable size… I knew that.” Peridot continued while Honeydew felt her eyes get heavier; Until, Peridot got louder disrupting her thoughts.

“But Suddenly the thrusters ceased and the aircraft was suspended into orbit. You mean it just floats?” “I guess. Shortcake. Zero gravity and all.”

The twenty-three-year-old was getting dizzy from her long day at work, not really wishing to hear Peridot’s increase in volume.

“Quieter, please. That woman is across the hall.” Her sister commanded her firmly. With that, the story went on… Not long after, Honeydew had fallen asleep just as her sister was finishing.

“Annnd~ the end. I like the way it ends don’t you Honeydew?” Slim trances of snoring could be heard from Peridot’s left side. Turning her head to see her sister was curled over the side of Peridot’s main pillow. Peridot yawned then shrugged laid down and turned into her sister’s chest, she gave up comfortably...

“Okay, goodnight sis."

Peridot was trying her best to stay nonchalant, that is, until her tears welled up in her eyes emotional, It would not be all too long, til Honey, Fredda, Dew, graduated and left Peridot behind. Just like her sisters had left her in their old room alone.

"I love you, Honeydew.” She hugged her with both of her arms; (even if one was out of commission.) Half asleep, Honeydew put her arm around Peridot pulling her into her chest snuggly.

“I love you too Shortcake. But if I’m late for work tomorrow. You are so grounded.” she chuckled.

They both fell asleep right there. Under the moonlight shining through Peridot’s window as they cuddled the cool breeze blew in against their hair.

[ Disclaimer! ]

In no way, shape or form does Honeydew belong to me she belongs to my friend @weasels-muses so if you have any questions pertaining to Honeydew the gem then you should ask them.

#Another one of my stories I decided to edit and fix #college #sister #human verse #peridot #honeydew #please read!!!

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stunudo · 7 years

Quote

...when you're attracted to someone, it just means that your subconscious is attracted to their subconscious, subconsciously. So what we think of as fate is just two neuroses knowing that they are a perfect match.

Dennis Reed from “Sleepless in Seattle”

Going Down With The Ship

One of the Six: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Bethany Devereaux x Gideon

A/N: Okay, here is the Trope List challenge for @reiding-and-writing. I chose #9 Sleepless in Seattle Moment. This fits into my OC Series “One of the Six.” The trope scene takes place during the original investigation of Season 3 Episode 19 “Tabula Rasa”. So it seems like 99.7% of the fandom does NOT like Gideon. Therefore the title fits the expected disinterest/ loathing of this, plus- well Bets was in the Navy people. Also you may have a reason to hate him more... xoxo Stu

I cannot tell you the moment it happened. I wasn’t paying attention. I am unable to pinpoint even the day it happened. It was a slow realization, but a quick shame. Hotch knew. He never said so, but Hotch knew. Damn it I wonder who else knew? Oh well, can’t do anything about it now. I was never a romantic person. If someone gave me the warm fuzzies, I would probably make out with them though.

This wasn’t the puppy love I had with T.J. Stevens my sophomore year at the academy. It wasn’t even what the few months I dated Janet Hyde before she left me for a rookie cop she met at the gym were. This was something else entirely and that is why I never saw it coming. After four years working together I woke up to the unfathomable revelation that I was in love with Jason. What the hell was this?

185 Days Remain

We were still working through the case files when Haley popped in with some take out. I don’t know what Aaron did to win this woman over, but it was not enough. She tried to swing by when we weren’t busy, feeding the wayward profilers or just checking in on us. She was extremely good at her job, but I knew she was only a little blue line away from dropping it all. The way Lover Boy and her looked at each other it was a surprise they didn’t have a litter already.

“Hey H-2, how are you?!” I called, tossing the folder back on to my inspection worthy desk. Her big grin greeted me, I rushed over to help with the bags of Chinese. The Crab Rangoon was calling to me, it had only been 9 hours since breakfast after all.

“Bets, thank you. I thought I was going to lose a quart of Kung Pao Chicken to the carpet!” We wound around the matrix of desks and dropped everything on the break room table. Finally Hotch realized his wife had arrived so I left them alone and headed back with my stash of fried goodness. As Jason walked past me the sparkle in his eye caused a rush to my cheeks. I was confused so I just shoved a piece of food in my mouth and grinned like a goofball.

“We should really bring her along on cases, she always finds the best egg rolls.” Jason explained, rubbing his hands as he headed to the waiting meal. It had been a few weeks of odd nerves and slight blushes up until that point. I now only associate Crab (or what passes for it) with my embarrassment, needless to say I no longer eat it.

I was working late, not that that was odd. What was off about it was that I didn’t need to be. Morgan had left, the SAs had left, even the Bird had left. I headed up to the offices because I wanted to say goodnight. Jason was at his desk with a projector watching film strips. It brought back memories of the awful stuffy afternoons in the science classroom when we were forced to watch an un-medicated birth or terrible animations of sperm swimming.

But there he was laughing. It was a silent film but it was clearly the grandfather to modern physical comedies. I pictured a young Jim Carey attempting the same bits. It was so raw and silly. I got lost in the story. I didn’t see when he came over to lean on the door jam with me. We stood there for the rest of the reel, enjoying the gags. It was a comfortable quiet.

When the tell tale clicking of the end of the film had reached an awkward rhythm I finally looked at him. He was smiling warmly at me, nothing new. “Have a good night, Bethany.” I smiled shyly. “You too, sir.”

I was frozen for a moment in his dark eyes, but then the moment passed and I went home.

“You don’t have the capacity to love these women!” Jason spat at the unsub as he held the victim by the hair, a machete in the other hand. “Put down the knife, Reynolds. Tell me your story, but let her go.”

The unsub was a certifiable idiot. He threw the victim at me, I caught her in my free arm, keeping my gun locked on his head. I tried to reassure her, but I just held on until Hotch had sent Morgan in with the cuffs. After I holstered my weapon, I really hugged her. I shushed her as she fell apart. She had been held for four days, she smelled and could barely stand.

Watching her be loaded on to the back of the ambulance was like watching Vaughn’s isolated cot in the infirmary. I had been a witness to the end of the pain, but couldn’t fathom what these women had endured. We had to do better. Jason had stood next to me while the boxy vehicle pulled away.

“These are the days that I take out that projector. To remember to laugh. Someday soon, she’ll remember how to laugh. You did good today, Bethany.”

I nodded, watching the night descend on the crime scene. It was then I knew that I didn’t want to keep doing this alone.

“Where are you heading this time?” Hotch asked Jason as he locked his office for a week off.

“Cape Hatteras National Seashore.”

“You like the Outerbanks?” I asked.

“Piping Plovers, I’m going birding.” Jason kept it short, he was in a hurry to enjoy his vacation.

“Enjoy the lighthouse if you get the chance!” I called to him as he waved to us behind his back. It actually hurt to see him walk away so brusquely.

“The Bodie Island Lighthouse was erected in 1872.” The baby bird squawked.

“I know, I’ve been there.” I shrugged off the annoyance at the new kid. “I kind of have a thing for lighthouses.” I don’t know why I was admitting that, but it just came out. I shoved a hard candy into my mouth to stop myself from being too chatty.

“Does he take vacations a lot?” His meager voice was trying to be casual.

“Not really.” I thought about it. “But more often than Hotch.”

The next morning we got a case and they were letting the string bean into the field for it. It wasn’t far, just over to Roanoke. They had dubbed him the “Blue Ridge Strangler.” I said a silent prayer of gratitude that Jason was out of town for this one, he hated when they gave the unsubs catchy names.

I woke up a little out of sorts. I don’t know why I was being emotional, but it was frustrating. Going over the crime scene photos with Morgan was nauseating. They looked like me. Dark hair and eyes. Sure they were prettier, but I couldn’t help but feel even more “off”.

I let Hotch and the boys head to the active body retrieval. I stayed behind to start piecing together a profile. When I dug in my purse I found a new key chain in the shape of a lighthouse. There was no note. I jumped at the chance to escape. To run. I picked up my cell.

“Hotch, I am using that IOU from Haley’s last birthday. I will meet up with you back in Quantico.”

“Is everything alright?” He was concerned.

“Everything is fine, besides you have the genius on hand now. It will only be a couple days.”

“Okay, but Bets, call me, when you get there?”

“Deal. Square?”

“Square.”

I hung up and called for a rental car. I wasn’t stopping back home. The drive to North Carolina was a blur.

I knew that Jason hadn’t left me that key chain, but I wanted it to be from him so badly that I tricked myself into hoping. There is nothing more cruel than hope. I don’t even know what I was expecting to find when I arrived at the National Seashore. I walked the beach and trails for hours. After not finding him among the protected coves, I made my way to the lighthouse.

The salt in the air and the sting on my skin brought my Navy brain back to me. I wasn’t this pathetic love-struck girl who chases her crush by crossing state lines. But I was. Visitor hours were drawing to a close at the summit and yet I stared off as the sun set behind me.

“If I had been a younger man, I might have assumed you were here for me. But not after this, this view is the real heart-breaker, eh?” Jason’s voice brought the delusion crashing down around me.

“Some people don’t see age as a barrier, but as experience to cherish.” I called over the wind, defending my recklessness. He walked over to me, his face that of a concerned teacher. I had made an ass of myself. “But you don’t have to say it, I get it.”

“I’m sorry, Bethany. I am not someone you should be wasting your youth on.” He stood there, his hands moving constantly. “Honestly I am flattered and a little frustrated.” He smiled.

I laughed through my tears. He was being charming and it added to the bitter-sweetness. “What is frustrating you?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I had profiled you as a lesbian.” Admitting he had been half-wrong about me was probably the humblest thing he could have said in the moment. This esteemed mind acknowledging he didn’t know something, was as genuine an offering as I could have hoped for.

I shook my head, laughing again. “If only it was that easy.”

I dragged myself off the lighthouse and into the rental car. I found a run down motel and crashed for two days. I slept off the embarrassment and the disappointment. When I got back to headquarters I was recognizable again.

“Row? Where did you skip off to?” Morgan teased, ruffling my hair.

“Nun-ya. Nice work messing up your ankle though.”

“Right, right. But you left me with the kid. I mean he talked to the victim’s parents and everything!”

“Wow! Looks like he can ditch those water wings after all.” I teased.

“I can hear you.” Baby bird chirped.

“We know.” Morgan and I said in unison. I high fived him and he low fived me. Turns out, I was okay after all. I had my team. Who needed love anyway?

Next Chapter: The Last Case

@criminalwriting @dontshootmespence @cherry-loves-fanfic @imagicana @hotchnerfuckmeup @teatimewithtiya @dontcallmedad

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jarienn972 · 7 years

Text

The Recreant - Part Ten & Epilogue

I had a few minutes to spare before work today so I decided to post both the final chapter and the epilogue I added together so this will run a little longer than prior chapters. I hope everyone who has been following the story has enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it! Putting fictional characters through the wringer is certainly great therapy to deal with stress!

Complete work on AO3 and FF.net

Prior chapters on Tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

3:55pm

Making sure that she followed Dr. Whale's instructions, Emma was required to wake Killian after about three hours - a process she was to repeat any time he fell asleep for the first 48 hours he was at home. If for any reason she couldn't get him to wake up, she was to call for an ambulance immediately – or in her case, magically teleport him straight to the emergency room. Thankfully, that hadn't been necessary as he'd awakened fairly easily and had no difficulty answering the two coherency questions that she was ordered to ask him to ensure that his memory and logic weren't impaired. It seemed a bit ridiculous to ask him such mundane questions as what the name of his ship was or where they'd first met, but Whale had insisted it was important and should be things he wouldn't need to hesitate to respond to. And of course he didn't.

She was also glad that she'd stopped at Granny's on the way home from Gold's shop to pick up some lunch. Since she'd spent the better part of the past two days at the hospital, she hadn't done the grocery shopping that she had planned to do when she got back from Boston and honestly, just wasn't feeling up to cooking. With cravings kicking into overdrive, she'd ordered a cheeseburger for herself with both onion rings and french fries. Baby was definitely in the mood for greasy comfort foods, but she wasn't sure something that heavy would be good for Killian since his appetite wasn't completely back. She'd hoped to get him some soup to replace the batch she hadn't shared with him, but today's soup of the day was actually chili which didn't seem like the best choice. The typically gruff old woman must have had a little bit of a soft spot for the pirate or just felt sorry for his somewhat haggard looking wife because she offered to throw together a quick batch of chicken noodle – an invalid's best friend, she'd called it – just for him.

She brought the food in on a tray and was pleased that he'd sat up and ate about of third of it along with one french fry that he'd swiped from her Styrofoam to-go container while they sat atop their bed, but it was clear that he was still groggy from the medication and probably just flat out tired from the lingering head injury so she cleared the remnants of their lunch from the bed and just let him rest. It wasn't something that she was really surprised by since she'd been warned by both Dr. Whale and the nurse that he'd likely sleep 12-18 hours each day for a while – one of the reasons she needed to wake him regularly to make sure he wasn't at risk of drifting back into an unresponsive state. With everything she'd learned about head injuries and concussions over the past few days, she'd started to harbor a tiny bit of guilt for every skip or villain that she'd taken down with a blow to the head. Not a whole lot of guilt, but enough to leave a lingering thought in the back of her mind.

She stayed at his side for a few minutes, debating whether she wanted to snuggle up next to him and take a nap herself, but she feared she might disturb him and despite her severe sleep deprivation over the past few days, she really wasn't tired. Instead, she picked up the tray and returned downstairs, placing it on the kitchen counter before curling up on the sofa with her laptop, intending to finish up some paperwork she'd started days ago. She eventually changed her mind and decided to watch a silly romantic comedy movie that would have bored Killian concluding that work could just wait until later. A little more than halfway through the movie though, she heard the creak of footsteps on the staircase and knowing that Henry had gone to the library to do some research for a report due on Friday, the only person who could be coming down those stairs was her husband, already disobeying the doctor's instructions.

"What are you doing?" she demanded without taking her eyes off of her computer screen.

"Do you fully intend to treat me as a prisoner in my own home? I'm certainly capable of descending these stairs myself…"

"You're supposed to be taking it easy," she reminded him. "And what if you get dizzy and trip?"

"So that means I can't do anything for myself?" he asked as he reached the bottom step, pausing for a moment to make sure he had his balance before crossing the living room to join her on the sofa. "See – I'm not completely helpless."

"You're impossible."

"I seem to recall saying something along those lines to an incredibly stubborn and lovely woman a long time ago…," he grinned as she closed the cover on the laptop.

"I suppose we both fit that category, don't we?" she chuckled as she set the computer aside so she could wrap an arm around his shoulder. "You actually fared pretty well getting down those stairs. No more dizziness?"

"Still a bit, but not as severe," he told her. "Just the lingering headache – but before you say anything – no, I don't need any more of the pain medicine right now. I want to be able to stay awake and enjoy some quiet time with my wife and perhaps, if my lady will allow, enjoy a make-up dinner for the one we were forced to postpone?"

"You actually think you're up to going out for dinner?" she asked skeptically.

"As I stated – perhaps - although if you're still so concerned for my welfare, we could always order our meal to dine here at home. After all, we do have a very special occasion to celebrate…"

"I think we actually have two special occasions to celebrate," she smiled. "What did you have in mind? And remember – you are still under strict doctor's orders…"

"And you certainly won't allow me to forget that…," he grumbled, "but I'm not quite certain what to expect for our evening meal. I suppose it will be whatever your mother has planned." He laughed as her head snapped around to look him in the eye.

"What?"

"Careful, Love. You'll give yourself whiplash," he snickered while attempting to explain. "Your mother called while you were away earlier running errands and she very pragmatically informed me that she's bringing us dinner this evening so you don't have to fret over anything tonight. Henry is eating with them and your father will drive him home later."

"And exactly when were you going to tell me all of this?"

"Telling you now," he smirked. "I assumed that her Highness had contacted you as well. Clearly that was not the case…"

Emma shook her head as she snuggled into his shoulder. "No, my mother didn't call me, but I'm not going to complain. I'll happily take a quiet night at home where I don't have to cook. I think we've earned it. I'd love to tell her that I'm really craving spicy Mexican food, but that's probably not a good idea…"

"Is there something wrong with spicy Mexican food?" Killian wondered, obviously bewildered as to why it would be a poor choice if it were something she wanted.

"Let's just say it's an awkward subject – made even more awkward by me being pregnant," she replied. "But I'd really rather not go into further detail."

"Then I shall forgo any further query regarding said subject, but I do have one on an entirely different subject…" She noticed that the tone of his voice became more serious as he prepared to change the subject.

"Okay…, what might that be?"

"You paid a visit to the crocodile today, didn't you?" His voice lowered to a near whisper.

"How did you know I went to see Gold?" She was slightly stunned that he'd known.

"Because I know you, Swan. He tried to kill me. I knew you wouldn't just let that go – even if there's no way to prove any of the allegations."

"I went to get some answers. When I was waiting for your prescriptions to be filled, I went and talked to Mr. Blackstone this morning. He admitted to me that he'd never seen the watch before the day I bought it. It had just appeared in his case so we know the coin was already inside. Somehow Gold knew about it so I went over there to ask him how he'd found out. He told me he'd sensed its presence when he saw you with the watch one day."

"He proudly confessed to me that he previously knew of the coin courtesy of Hades. Perhaps the day he spoke of was when he learned the coin was contained inside the watch?"

"It's possible. He obviously knew what the coin had been used for which would explain why he sent Smee after it. He must have been a little antsy that if he touched the coin himself that it might remove his memories regarding the Excalibur-Grail magic too. I mean it could have since Hades had enchanted the coin to remove those memories of yours and then he did tell Gold all about it. If the enchantment was to remove memories of that one specific subject, it might have had the same effect on him. But I'm sure if Smee had stolen it, he would have locked it away in a vault somewhere or simply poofed it away to some remote location."

"That was likely his plan, but fortunately, we uncovered it first and regardless of whether I do possess any residual magic from Excalibur or its predecessor, I do know that it was something Hades feared and likely so did the crocodile."

"Well, you definitely found some magical way to send me that text message yesterday. I don't know how the hell you did it, but I'm sure glad you found a way. Oh, and by the way, I'm so sorry that I forgot your hook when I picked up your things this morning. I completely forgot that it was in David's desk drawer. You'll have it back tonight and I have to say, I've sorta missed it," she grinned.

"You have?" he laughed, partially due to her rambling, but mostly because he'd always known she was attracted to his shiny steel artificial appendage.

"Yes – believe it or not, I have," she replied, but no sooner had the words passed her lips, her emotions shifted as if she'd flipped a switch – her smiling eyes suddenly filling with tears. Realizing her hormone-driven feelings were getting the best of her, she abruptly turned her face away from him, trying to wipe away the tears before he noticed, but she wasn't fast enough.

"Emma…Love, what's wrong?" he wondered, placing his hand against the back of her head urging her to turn around.

"It's okay…just these damned hormones," she said with a sniffle, but he wasn't buying it.

"Swan…"

"Oh, come on. Don't make me do this…," she protested, but just catching a glimpse of his baby blues broke down the wall she was trying so hard to build. "It's just that I leave town for one day and nearly lose you again because of magic!"

"And yet your magic saved my life – more than once. I'm here, Love," he assured her.

"But what if I hadn't gotten there in time? You could have died on that operating table before I even knew anything was wrong. And what if Gold's plan yesterday had succeeded?"

"I didn't and it didn't. You can't dwell on this, Emma. I'm fine and that's all that matters now. We obviously have a child to plan for, so why don't we continue that discussion from last night instead?"

"Changing the subject, are we?" she chided him as she wiped away the tracks of the tears on her cheeks with her sleeve before she at last turned back to face him, her eyes still puffy and red. "So I guess we need to decide if we want to paint the nursery classic white or should we go with a more princessy pink?"

"Princessy?" his attention was piqued by her emphasis on that word. "Now you're the one who's suddenly certain we're having a daughter?"

"Let's just say that something Gold told me today has me feeling pretty confident that it's a girl."

"You're taking the crocodile's word on this?"

"Technically, no. He was simply relaying Hades' message."

"Are you saying that the Lord of the Underworld and the Dark One were at one time engaged in conversation regarding our future daughter?"

"As disturbing as that may sound, it appears they did, only from what I gather, it was really more of a sick joke at the time. There wasn't supposed to be a future…" She couldn't hold back the water works this time as she said those words and the realization struck her of how much they'd really overcome. This time though, it was Killian who wiped away her tears with his thumb as he gently stroked her face.

"Whatever Hades did or didn't say to the crocodile isn't important. If we're having a daughter then I for one hope that our wee princess takes after her mother – and perhaps picks up a bit of cunning wit from her royal bandit grandmother as well…"

"Please don't let my mother hear that!" Emma laughed, finally able to rein in the tears as he pulled her into a tight embrace, but as he did, it was now his expression that changed. While she was unable to see his face, his visage hardened, no longer reflecting the jovial encouragement but instead hovering somewhere between confusion and brooding. It wasn't that he was any less joyous about their child, but rather that he felt that dull ache slowly building in the back of his skull as he'd been struck with another memory of something Hades had said – and now, in an instant – it all made sense. Emma might not have been able to see the look on his face, but she certainly felt the tension in his arms as his hold on her shoulders suddenly felt different. "Okay, now it's my turn to ask – are you alright?" She pushed back from him to see his troubled expression.

"Aye," he replied, bringing his hand to the back of his head as demonstration that his tension was merely a returning headache. "Just a bit of discomfort from my present malaise, but you needn't worry. It will pass."

"Unh uh," she protested. "I'll get you one of the ibuprofen tablets that Dr. Whale prescribed. There's no codeine in it, so it won't make you drowsy, but you don't need to suffer with the aches and pains."

"I'd rather a swig of rum," he grumbled only to get an icy glare in response, "but if my lovely wife insists, I'll take the medicine." Perhaps later he'd tell her the real reason for his shifting mood, but not before he'd had a chance to have a little tete-a-tete with someone else first.

One week later – 10:01am

He'd gotten there early – just as the shop was opening for the day, but despite the door being unlocked and the sign hanging from it turned to read "OPEN", the interior lights hadn't yet been turned on and that was just fine with Killian. He pushed open the door, sounding the bells attached to it and a he entered, used a swift flick of his hook to flip over the sign to read "CLOSED" to allow a few uninterrupted moments to have a word with the shop's owner.

"Safe to assume that you're not here to purchase anything," he heard Gold's voice say before the Dark One stepped out of the back room.

"I guess you could say I'm here to make a deal, crocodile, but this one will be on my terms, not yours."

"And what makes you think I'd ever agree to such a deal?" Gold asked, not about to lower himself to the pirate's standards. "I seem to recall the last time you attempted to set the terms of a deal, it rather spectacularly backfired on you…"

"Suffice it for me to say that it's due to the fact that I know precisely why you tried to steal that coin and then tried to kill me when Smee failed to obtain it for you…." Killian stared directly at Gold with no fear in his gaze this time, knowing for the first time in a long time that he truly had the advantage.

"I'm listening…" the Dark One hissed, not really interested in being bothered by Hook, but still curious to learn if the pirate had indeed remembered the final missing piece of his memory puzzle – the last remaining part of the conversation Hades had stolen from him.

"It's taken a while for all of the missing memories to fall into place," Killian stated, "but my recollection is fully restored and I know for certain now that you never feared if I still possessed any of the magic from Excalibur. That never concerned you for a moment. What's been vexing you is that Hades mistakenly revealed to me an important fact about the Dark Curse – under what would be considered 'normal' circumstances, you can't be re-afflicted. My death released Emma from the grip of the curse and your little subterfuge with the potion released me from it. No living being was ever intended to be a vessel for the Darkness more than once in a lifetime – especially since the death of the previous Dark One is traditionally what passes on the curse. But you – you had to be unique. You had the Darkness taken away from you by the Apprentice before all of your evil deeds completely blackened your heart. You could have been done with it, but you couldn't live without the power. You stole the curse back with a potion, thinking no one would ever be the wiser, but Emma could still hear the call of the dagger and yes, so can I. What Hades erroneously said while so gleefully torturing me was that Emma and I were left immune to the Dark Curse. If either of us were to stab you with your shiny new dagger, all of your dark magic and power just dies with you. That's the part you were so eager to ensure I didn't remember. After all of these centuries of seeking revenge, I finally have a way to end you once and for all…" Killian paused as he searched his enemy's face for any cracks in his tightly veiled exterior. He had the upper hand, but he wasn't naïve enough to think that he wasn't still in danger. "But I've no intention to do that…," the pirate continued. "I realize that you could still kill me right now, but you've no way of knowing if I've already relayed this little secret to Emma. Are you willing to take that chance – that she couldn't get to the dagger first? So, what say you, Dark One? Shall we call a truce?"

Gold contemplated his options in silence. The pirate was correct on both fronts – he and Emma were now immune to the Darkness and yes, he could kill him right here and hope that Hook hadn't already relayed the message to his wife. Or he could agree to the truce. There was no way to entirely conceal the dagger from either of them as all living former Dark Ones could hear its call. Hook's words rang true – either of them could kill him with his own dagger and neither would be afflicted. It would simply mean the end of the Dark One – the feat that Hook had attempted with his own sacrifice. That was the secret that he had hoped to keep hidden forever, but it was too late now…

"That's an interesting proposal," Gold stated, still mulling his choice.

"Do we have a deal? We leave you to live your life and you stay clear of our family?"

"Your wife asked me that same question last week," Gold said before at last conceding. "I believe the answer to both of your questions is yes – we have a deal."

"Good," Killian grinned as he prepared to unleash his last surprise for the crocodile. With scarcely a flick of his wrist, the sign on the front door flipped itself over to read "OPEN" once more.

"So, that part was true?" the Dark One asked, although he'd already known the answer. "I see you've figured out how to use those powers…"

"Aye. I've had some time to practice while convalescing at home for the past few days, but I've really no interest in using it. Just a few little parlor tricks as you once called them, but I'm certain Hades made you aware of the potential?"

"Indeed he did," was Gold's dead-pan response. He knew all too well.

Killian returned a satisfied smile as he exited the pawn shop, confident that the Dark One would uphold his end of the bargain. He'd executed the gamble successfully as he hadn't yet revealed the secret of the Dark Curse to Emma. He'd wanted to secure their safety first and he certainly hadn't let on that he'd been practicing magic, not that she would have noticed as she'd been so preoccupied with his recovery and her pregnancy. Now that the deal was in place, he would reveal it all to her, but first he had to quickly get himself to the location he was actually supposed to be in right now – his follow up appointment with Dr. Whale. He'd promised Emma he was capable of walking there on his own accord as she'd left on a call that morning. He didn't dare be even a minute late…

One of Whale's stipulations before he would discharge him from the hospital a week ago was that Killian had to schedule a follow-up immediately so that the doctor could ensure that his patient was still healing properly. The bouts of vertigo had finally abated but while he hadn't openly complained, he was still suffering lingering headaches and fighting through a rather nagging weakness on his right side. He wasn't about to let on that he was struggling with anything though or Emma would never have allowed him out of the house. She'd already spent more than enough time worrying about him and at a time when he should be doting on his pregnant wife, he was instead finding that recovering from this latest concussion was a grander challenge than he'd expected.

He'd arrived to the clinic on time, expecting Emma to already be there, but she appeared to be running a little late and Whale, being the busy doctor that he was, wasn't about to wait on the Sheriff. Inviting his patient into the exam room, Whale picked up the folder containing Killian's medical records and gestured for the pirate to take a seat on the exam table against the far wall.

"Not subjecting me to one of those awful scanning machines today?" Killian wondered.

"I thought we might have a conversation first and then I'll decide if I need to send you for further tests. How are your symptoms?"

"Perfectly manageable."

"No more vertigo? Headaches?"

"The dizziness has subsided, but unfortunately, the headaches persist. Milder than before, but ongoing."

"Same areas as before?"

"Mainly at the temple, but other spots when I'm fatigued."

"Anything that the medication doesn't ease?"

"Honestly, I prefer not to take the pills. I don't like the affect they have on me."

"So you prefer to suffer?" Whale said snidely. "Forever the tough as nails pirate…"

"My choice," Killian reminded him.

"Experiencing any other lingering side effects? Irritability?" Killian rolled his eyes as the doctor emphasized that adjective purely out of spite. "Any weakness?" Whale watched his patient's eyebrow raise ever so slightly at the word weakness. "I gather from your reaction that the answer to that question is a yes?"

"I've found it difficult at times to grasp objects and I've occasionally found myself unable to stand for long periods of time and maintain my balance. I've even had my knee give out beneath me once for no obvious reason. Is there something that explains those unusual symptoms?"

"Not surprising," Whale stated. "I suspected that you may have suffered a stroke before Emma healed you after the seizure. This could be some of the residual effects from a stroke."

"A stroke?"

"In simplest terms - a blood clot that traveled to your brain and got stuck, severely damaging a portion of the tissue. You were likely in the very early stages while you were comatose - right before Emma healed the majority of your head injuries. Perhaps there was some damage from a stroke that she wasn't able to heal that was simply masked by the concussion?"

"I gather this is something you could ascertain from one of those machines?"

"Possibly – depending on how much visible evidence remains. For the moment though, we'll give it a week. If those symptoms are still bothering you, we'll arrange for some additional tests."

"Further tests for what?" came a voice as the door swung open slowly and Emma poked her head in. "Sorry I'm running a little late, but the nurse said you were in here."

"I apologize that we started without you," Whale said, "but I've a busy schedule to keep up."

"Understood. You were saying something about tests?" she asked as she closed the door behind her and sat down in an empty chair at the foot of the exam table.

"I was saying that I'm going to wait another week to see if the ongoing symptoms subside," the doctor explained, "but let's get a quick check up of all of the Captain's vitals out of the way and then Emma, I haven't forgotten what we talked about…"

The brief exam took mere minutes and nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, at least not based on the doctor's expressions as he took readings and transcribed them into the records.

"Well, Captain, everything looks perfectly fine for now," Whale stated. "Your blood pressure is normal; heart and lungs sound fine and your reflexes are almost back to normal. I'm fairly confident that the lingering weakness should clear up on its own, but if not, we'll address that next week."

"I'd much prefer this to all just go away," Killian replied as he hopped down from the exam table. "Our lives have certainly been disrupted enough."

"I agree," Emma said with a sideways grin. "Keeping him out of trouble is a full time job!"

"Pardon me if we pirates do not fare well being confined to a dwelling," Killian retorted as he reached for his jacket, hung on the back of the chair she was occupying.

"Not just yet," she smiled as she stood up and made a motion for him to take a seat in the chair she'd just vacated.

"Am I missing something here, Love?" he wondered as Dr. Whale stepped out of the room for a moment, returning seconds later with a strange looking electronic contraption in his hand.

"I'm trying to make up for something you missed out on while you were recovering from the attack – something you should have been there to witness," she stated as she climbed up onto the exam table herself, stretching out on her back and tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her jeans to expose her midsection.

"What are you doing?" Killian demanded, both startled and alarmed by his wife's actions.

"It's okay, Killian," she laughed. "I asked Dr. Whale to do this for you…"

"To do what?" the pirate wondered, not entirely comfortable as Whale approached her and pressed some sort of metal probe against the bare skin of her abdomen.

"One moment…" Whale said, adjusting a dial on the device as he moved the probe around slowly. The sound of static and the crackle of white noise filled the room as he attempted to find just the right spot. And then suddenly a sharp staccato drowned out the other cacophony. It was rapid with a slight echo and was the most alien sound Killian had encountered in ages. "And there we are…" the doctor said, reserving emotion for the parents to be. "Fast and strong."

"What is that?" Killian pointed to the device pressed to her stomach but he also meant the click-like sound he was hearing.

"It's a microphone – it's used to magnify sounds that would otherwise be difficult to hear," she explained, but it didn't appear to lessen his confusion.

"And what the devil are we supposed to be hearing with this microphone?" the pirate couldn't help but ask.

"A heartbeat. A tiny little heartbeat," she replied, her eyes going bleary as she saw the instant realization wash over him. She extended her hand to him and laced her fingers with his as they'd done so many times only this time, it was part of a memory she'd treasure forever. She was already looking forward to all of the little moments that would come as they moved forward on this journey together. They might live in a town where the next crisis was always lurking, but she was determined to make every second of this special. After everything they'd faced together, nothing mattered more than their family right now. Their lives weren't going to get any less insane and after all - what was crazier than the fact that the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming was married to and was now having a baby with Captain Hook? But no matter what, all she needed for her own comfort was the awe and complete mesmerization that she'd just seen reflected in his eyes. There was little doubt that he was already entirely devoted to both her and their little princess to be.

But she also knew she was never leaving this town without him again. Never again.

Epilogue

Thursday – 7:14pm

The sun had already dipped below the horizon by the time Henry finished clearing all of the evening's dinner dishes - loading as much as he could into the dishwasher while letting the rectangular baking dish that his grandmother had brought over filled with lasagna soak in the sink. He knew it would need to be returned to her tomorrow because no amount of scrubbing had proven effective to remove the remnants of their meal from the stoneware. He'd done the best he could for now, but he secretly hoped that his mother would just magically poof away the baked on sauce and cheese. Wishful thinking perhaps, but if nothing else, he would let it remain here filled with water overnight and finish washing it before school tomorrow.

His grandparents had already departed for home a little before 7pm when an overly tired Neal got cranky and threw a kicking and screaming tantrum in the middle of the living room floor, yet even that display had taken place after Emma had politely excused herself and vanished upstairs. She hadn't really given any indication as to what was wrong but she'd barely touched her dinner. Maybe the stress of the past week had finally caught up, especially since all of those events had been pretty rough on her – and of course on Killian too. His stepfather had graciously thanked Snow White for making dinner for everyone and saw his in-laws off before he too headed upstairs to check on his wife. It wasn't like Emma to take off like that so Henry couldn't help but be a little concerned for his mother only he didn't want to pry.

With his ear buds still in place and music playing from his phone at a slightly too high volume, Henry hadn't noticed Killian had returned to the kitchen – at least he didn't notice before he felt a tap on his shoulder, then heard his stepfather asking "Almost finished with your chores?"

"Oh – yeah…," he replied, slightly shaken as he pulled one of the tiny headphones from his ear. "Just have to soak this one…"

"My apologies – I didn't intend to startle you," Killian stated as he pulled a chair away from the table. Henry assumed that the pirate was planning to sit down but instead, he gestured for the boy to take the offered seat. "You've done quite well enough for this evening. Have a seat for a moment, please?"

"Okay…," Henry responded, somewhat hesitant, fearing he might be in some sort of trouble. "What's up?"

"Your mother and I had planned to talk to you this evening together," Killian began as Henry complied with his request to take the offered chair. "However, since she isn't feeling well, she asked me if I'd speak to you myself."

"How's mom feeling? Everything is okay, right?"

"Your mother is fine. A little green around the gills, but nothing serious," the pirate chuckled, hoping a lighthearted tone would set the lad at ease.

"That's good," the boy sighed in relief. "I've never seen mom have quite that reaction to Grandma's cooking before."

"It may be some time before she chooses to set eyes on a lasagna again – although personally, I think it might have been that garlicky bread…"

"It was a little burnt, wasn't it?" Henry smiled, quickly changing the subject as he realized that this was not the intended direction of the conversation. "But I doubt that you're actually here to talk about dinner…"

"No, that was not my intent either," Killian said with a noticeable change in tone, becoming more serious as he pulled out a second chair and sat himself down at the end of the table. "Obviously, a lot has taken place in the past week – some things that you are aware of and perhaps a few things that you've not yet been made privy to. One of those subjects is what your mother and I had intended to inform you of this evening…"

"Can I spare you the long, drawn out explanation and just ask – is mom pregnant?" The interruption caught Killian off guard this time, freezing him mid-sentence. The question had been so blunt, not accusatory, but just out of the blue jarring, but the boy continued. "I'm really okay with it if she is - if you were worried about that..."

"Yes, your mother is with child," a stunned Killian replied. "Do I dare ask how you figured that out?"

"Well, Grandma started to say something at school the other day, but, to be honest I've been suspecting it for a few days. Like she's always in the bathroom and I'm really glad we have more than one… The clincher was her reaction to the lasagna though. I thought she was going to throw up right here at the table and it kinda struck me that no one thought it was strange..."

"Please don't let your mother hear you talking about vomiting. She's already quite self-conscious about everything – and feeling a tad guilty that we weren't able to share the news with you sooner."

"It's okay," Henry assured him. "It really is. I know a whole lot has happened in the past few days and it's been really difficult for everyone, but I'm happy it doesn't have to be a secret anymore. I've always wondered what it would be like to be a big brother."

"It will be a huge adjustment for all of us as we prepare for your sister's arrival and we both are counting on your support."

"Sister? You know already that it's a girl?"

Killian wasn't quite certain how he would answer that question – how much detail to impart, so he decided to defer the finer points of the story for the moment. "Suffice it to say that there may have been some divine intervention on our behalf, but yes – we're having a daughter."

"A little sister, huh? That's cool. And I'm just happy for you both."

"Thank you," Killian smiled, relieved that the announcement - well, confirmation of the lad's suspicions – had gone well, although he wasn't quite prepared for the direction their conversation would go next.

"Killian, can I ask you something while it's just the two of us talking?"

"Of course," the pirate responded with a mix of confusion and curiosity in his voice. "You're always welcome to come to me with any queries."

"Then you'll be honest with me about something?" he questioned to which Killian nodded a silent affirmative. "Do you have Merlin's powers?"

"Not exactly…," the pirate replied with a nervous chortle, his brain scrambling for the best possible explanation. He wasn't used to being caught unprepared for this many questions in one sitting.

"But you do have some magical powers from Excalibur?" the teen persisted.

"Aye – some that I've recently rediscovered…May I ask what brought about that question?"

"Well, earlier this week, I heard something hit the floor and you cursing at whatever it was. Considering all you've been through recently, I was worried you might need help but when I got upstairs, I saw a book rising up off the floor. I wasn't meaning to spy, but you didn't have the bedroom door closed all the way so…"

"Eavesdropping on a pirate, eh?" Killian teased with a devilish grin and one eyebrow raised in appreciation of the boy's audacity. "That can be quite a dangerous venture… Just what exactly did you happen to see?"

"It looked like you were practicing moving objects around like mom used to do – and not much better than she did at first." His honesty elicited a burst of laughter from his stepfather. "How long have you had those powers back?"

"It's a bit of a long story, but the magic never really left. I possessed it from the moment your mother used Excalibur to turn me into a Dark One. Thanks to Hades' tricks, I wasn't able to remember for quite some time that the bloody Crocodile had only stolen the dark magic."

"But you got your memories back?" Henry asked excitedly. "And you should have Merlin's light magic, right?"

"Aye – my memories have returned – again thanks to some divine intervention, however I'm fairly certain that those powers are shared with your mother because my abilities are rather limited - a few tricks here and there – just enough to prove a point, but that's about all. I've no desire for anything beyond this, nor have I any intention to use magic to further my needs. "

"And mom knows all of this?"

"Aye, she does – and we have our suspicions as to what may have become of the remainder of those powers from Excalibur…," Killian paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "If we're correct, your infant sister could be born with magical powers the likes of which we've not encountered before. We just won't know for certain until she arrives, but we're already experiencing signs of it."

"Wait - you think the baby has magical powers already – even before she's born?"

"Let's just say that the first sign came after your other grandfather, Rumplestiltskin, attacked me in the hospital. Your mother received an SOS message on her talking phone alerting her that I was in danger, but it wasn't I who sent it."

"So you and mom think that the baby sent it somehow?" Henry was baffled as to how that could be possible, but then he quickly remembered that he lived in a place where impossible things were daily occurrences – including the fact that Killian was even here sitting beside him.

"It's a possibility that we're considering," Killian responded with a nod. "Only time will tell for certain and as you can imagine, your mother is worried enough. This isn't a revelation that we want to leave this house just yet."

"Wow…," was the only response the boy could muster but after a few speechless moments he added: "That will sure make things interesting around here…"

"Indeed – and I'm certain that you understand why we will not be saying anything to your grandmother about this subject…"

"She won't hear it from me!" Henry exclaimed with a wide grin.

"Good lad," Killian replied, grinning as broadly as his stepson. "Now is not the time to incite your mother's wrath." Pushing his chair away from the table, he stood up and gave the boy a pat on the shoulder. "Leave the rest of those dishes for morning. I'll finish them up. I know you're anxious to go chat with Lady Violet."

"Just to be clear – I can finally tell her I'm going to be a big brother?"

"Yes – that news you're free to share." The words had barely passed from Killian's lips before Henry sprang to his feet and darted up the stairs to his room with a shouted thank you as he vanished from sight. Shaking his head, Killian pushed both chairs back beneath the table then turned off all of the downstairs lights – the un-magical way – before making his way back up to the second floor himself.

The master bedroom door still remained slightly ajar as he had left it so that he'd be able to hear should his wife have called out for him. He glanced in from the hallway, much in the same manner Henry had confessed to doing few days earlier to encounter him toying with magic, noticing that Emma was curled up on their bed with her back to him. He stood there just beholding her for a while, momentarily transfixed by the depth of his love for this woman. She was still clad in her clothing from dinner – save for the boots she had removed and tossed to the foot of the bed. Her crimson blouse had hiked up on her back, revealing a narrow strip of skin above the waistband of her denim trousers. Pale blonde locks spilled out over her pillow – and partially onto his, not that he minded. She was probably asleep and he was somewhat fearful of disturbing her if he dared push open the door with its squeaky hinge. So instead he just lingered there – his mind replaying their earlier conversation where she had informed him in a very perturbed fashion that she likely wouldn't be able to wear jeans for much longer as the swell of her belly was making them too tight. He couldn't fathom her frustration with her changing figure as to him, she had never looked more beautiful.

He would never know what it was that he'd done to deserve this woman, but he was eternally grateful for every second spent at her side and for all that had gone right in the world to bring them together. They had come from different realms – different eras. Nothing about their lives together made any sense and yet here they were – both part of a family that was expanding – a dream that neither would have envisioned just a few years earlier. Fate may not always have been kind, but it kept bringing them back to each other and now, in this latest chapter of their story, fate would soon bring them a daughter - a daughter who could prove to be a powerful sorceress if their supposition was confirmed, but as with everything else they'd encountered thus far, they would learn ways to face that battle together.

After all, at the end of the day, they were just a princess and a pirate who were still writing their fairy tale – still believing that their happy ending would be never ending.

#cs ff #cs fan fic #cs fan fiction #the recreant #captain swan ff

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teensyquartz · 7 years

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Unpopular opinion: I always hated the term “filler episode.” Not because it’s a fake term, as it does exist and has its meaning. Rather, because a lot of people simply do not understand the term these days and simply throws it around by describing it as “an episode that isn’t all about ‘the plot’ I love the most, and thus isn’t interesting to me and is also bad.”

Let’s use good old TV Tropes for the proper coinage of the term:

“Filler episodes are entries in a generally continuous serial that are unrelated to the main plot, don't significantly alter the relations between the characters, and generally serve only to take up space.”

Are there filler episodes of Steven Universe? Yes. You can take out episodes like Shirt Club and Onion Trade and nothing would change concerning our main characters or the gem lore plot. But even with those, if you enjoy the human episodes of the show, then you wouldn’t need to call these filler.

Nonetheless, I feel as if people, in the midst of having the drive to criticize the show down to its very core, have forgotten the difference between filler and breather. Shirt Club, again adding nothing to Steven’s character, is in between two fairly significant episodes: Rose’s Scabbard and Story for Steven. One is emotionally heavy and one many call their favorite, and the second focuses on the meeting of Steven’s parents, something important for the characters.

Breather episodes, when done right, are used to contrast against heavier episodes—whether heavier in in character or emotion. Steven Universe often prefers to use breather episodes before big moments; this is especially so because nowadays, when there is a flashback episode introduced, we often expect something big to happen shortly after.

Going back to the term filler, anime is the big target for the term “filler” episodes, especially if the anime is based on a manga and deters from the plot of the manga. Western animation, by comparison, does not consist of filler episodes, due to the fact that there is very little times that they deter from the “plot”. There are certainly moments that can be described as filler, such as “Avatar the Last Airbender”’s the Great Divide and the Painted Lady.

I suppose what is important to ask is: what is the main plot of Steven Universe?

Multiple sources prefer to call the show “a coming-of-age story of a young boy named Steven Universe, who lives in the fictional town of Beach City with the "Crystal Gems" – Pearl, Garnet and Amethyst, three magical humanoid aliens. Steven, who is half-Gem, goes on adventures with his friends and helps the Gems protect the world from their own kind.”

People seem to focus more on the “gems protect the world from their own kind” aspect of the summary. And it’s not wrong to; that is partly the plot. Partly. However, the story itself is described as “coming-of-age” story. These stories focus on the growth of the protagonist from youth, and working on their character over time and seeing how much they’ve changed. Steven’s life is a big part of the story, and how he changes along with his environment. All the people he interacts with is significant to his story, no matter who they are. These people he meets, talks with, and befriends (or does not) shapes the story of Steven Universe, as well as his character. Since he is half-human, the human side of himself is just as significant, as mentioned in Gem Harvest.

Steven: And you have that cool hat! And you know how to peel potatoes! And you need a plane to fly! I love the Gems, but I'm a human too! I never had a chance to know that part of my family!But now I do. Andy, I want to be your family!

Steven needs his human counterparts just as much as his gem family. He needs days to act silly and humanistic in order to remain sane against all the gem stuff he has faced over the years. Future Boy Zoltron comes after Mindful Education because Steven had just gone through a huge, emotional turmoil that left him breaking down in the midst of a fusion. Future Boy Zoltron allowed him to take some time away from that rough day and just act like a fourteen year old kid. Steven needs breaks from the gem side of his life in order to enjoy being a kid.

I won’t argue with those who believe the pacing of the show is off. It isn’t a totally wrong criticism. I just personally am not as bothered by it. I enjoy being able to enjoy something light-hearted after heavier episodes, and as long as the episode itself is good, I don’t really have the need to complain about pacing. And for the most part, I can enjoy most episodes (most being that boy, do I have complaints for plenty, hah!).

People’s complaints are mainly on season four’s episodes. Let’s take a look at the episodes after the most recent Stevenbomb.

The New Crystal Gems fills the blank as to what Connie, Peridot, and Lapis were doing while the Crystal Gems were gone. This also had a big moment for Connie at the end. This can be described as the filler, but the filling in of the blanks of side characters can be described as important. It can also be a breather after a stream of space-themed episodes with the Zoo and the Diamonds.

Storm in the Room focuses on Steven meeting the cloud version of his mother and trying to enjoy being with her, despite the feeling that something is off. Steven’s fight with her (or himself) is the emotional climax of the episode. Nothing is revealed, but Steven facing his mother and yelling at her about all she has done and how it effects him shows just how much Steven’s views of his own mother have changed. And for him, it’s rough, but at the very least he has his own family.

Rocknaldo can very much be described as filler, though considering the emotional strength of the previous episode, one may prefer to it as a breather. At most, the most important part of the episode, personally, was Steven finally taking a stand over someone bullying him. This has become a new characteristic of Steven, who has grown tired of being dismissed over time. Most Ronaldo episodes are not significant minus the foreshadowing hidden within Ronaldo’s words (is this intentional? It’s hard to tell...) (I actually really didn’t like this one, as Ronaldo is my least favorite character and he is at his worst here. The only saving graces of this one is Steven doing as mentioned above, and Amethyst being the star in terms of comedy)

Tiger Philantropist focuses on two main characters and their relationship. It also highlights Amethyst’s changes and the aftermath of her arc, her dying enthusiasm a sign that she has changed for the better. It does not change their relationship much, but rather sets in stone just how much these two have gone through, both as characters as well as their relationship, over time.

Room for Ruby is about the one Ruby falling onto Earth, thus bringing back the importance of the Ruby characters. Since there is no doubt they will be back, and the fact they stole a ship, will likely be a big part of the gem plot later on. It also greatly takes time to look at Lapis’s character, who has been fairly neglected except for Alone at Sea until now.

I love Steven Universe despite its flaws. I have problems with its writing at times, I do have particular episodes that can be grouped together by having the same problem that needs to be fixed, and some characters (Lapis, for example) do feel neglected and one can only hope they will do something more with them. I have criticism of the show; I think everyone does. I do not dismiss its flaws, but I don’t really go too deep into them unless asked. For the complaint of “filler” episodes, I am aware that not everyone enjoys the human episodes. Heck, I have a friend who told me they tried to get into it, but they simply lost patience with the pace. I didn’t even argue, I understood (though they tried to get me into Homestuck and said it would take a while to get into it so bruhhh!). And I am someone who cannot get into the Dragon Ball series because there are so many episodes and I don’t have the patience for it. I’ve got the basics from my friend, and honestly, I don’t want to watch Goku fight Fridge for twenty episodes. So I totally get it.

But if people are complaining about them now, it makes me wonder if they’ve noticed that that’s been a thing since season one. I didn’t even get interested until Lion 3: Direct to DVD. That’s about thirty episodes in (though I can go back and enjoy previous episode perfectly fine). And even then, that episode wasn’t gem plot heavy, but more character plot heavy. This show is all about character, and aside from the few criticisms I have, I believe they’re doing well in that department. Anyway, this has always been the core structure of the show, was from the very start and will continue being so. What people often call the fillers are not as insignificant to Steven as they are to the viewier. So, yeah, take that as you will, I suppose.

Sorry for the long post, folks. I see this complaint a lot and I don’t know, I finally just lost it and couldn’t stop typing. Like I said, if you have this criticism, I am not arguing with you. I just think that the term filler is rather overused these days.

#steven universe #filler episodes #su #long post #I finished my hw before doing this honest!#tiny needs to stfu

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john-stints-blog · 7 years

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Last Ride of the Blood Letters Part 1: 1

Hey folks, this is the beginning of my in-progress novel, The Last Ride of the Blood Letters (Working Title). It's a "science-fiction-like-Star-Wars-is-science-fiction" novel I started for NaNoWriMo 2016....totally failed at THAT, by the way--but I haven't quit working on the book! As a way of encouraging/putting a fire under my ass, I've decided to start serial-posting chapters of the book weekly until I've posted the whole thing. Which means I've got to keep writing so I don't catch up to myself.

I'll mention now--this is FIRST DRAFT. So, typos, grammar, all of that good shit....well, I do my best to edit while I write, and I think I'm pretty decent at it--but if you notice anything, commenting about it would be really nice as long as you're not an asshole about it.

The Last Ride of the Blood Letters

A long time from now, in a galaxy uncomfortably near…

“The show always looks the same to me, T-12. I don’t get it.”

“Considering that most of the consumers of these videos are beings who intend to be chemically addled beyond sentience while viewing them, I do not believe it matters.”

“That’s a good point.”

Rab sat in the pilot’s seat of the Downed Horizon, being careful to keep his right eye trained on the colors and shapes moving outside the cockpit.

Travel through intraspace was, without a doubt, a captivating thing to look at—it was said that more colors than any single being could comprehend passed by as a ship made its way through. In a ten-minute video, a Human would see every color they’d ever known—and some they hadn’t. Even that didn’t explain it.

The shapes were beyond drawing. The colors—beyond understanding.

Rab used to be fascinated by it—he used to stand in the cockpit of the Downed Horizon, staring as intraspace passed by, amazed by it. His old pilot, Cress, had said that it made him nervous to have someone looking over his shoulder—and Rab would have to assure the little Chig that he wasn’t paying attention to the piloting at all—just the show passing before them.

But, like anything, familiarity destroyed wonderment.

At this point, Rab was bored. He’d recorded the last fifteen minutes of their intraspace journey using his cyborg eye—and his patience was wearing thin for maintaining the view.

Sending an impulse to the tiny computer stored in his right eye socket with a thought, Rab shut down the recording.

“I think we’re done with that for now.”

“Are you sure? The journey to Eunthis should take another hour and fourteen minutes. I would imagine there is a lot more material your audience would appreciate.”

“I’m sure they would—but I’m done. Gonna get a quick nap before we drop the cargo.”

Rab pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and pulled open the small flesh-colored flap on his wrist that covered a computer-interfacing cable. Grimacing as he always did, he pulled the cable out, extending from his wrist, and plugged it into the onboard computer of the Downed Horizon.

He’d had the prosthetic arm for nearly two years—but the light tickle of unwinding the interface-cable from within his ‘arm’ hadn’t ceased to unnerve him. He’d considered having a techie turn off the sensation signals in the arm—or even seeing if T-12 could do it—but there was a part of him that still wanted to be able to feel the other sensations the arm was capable of.

If Rab hadn’t been so cheap with his biological replacements, he would have been able to choose which sensation signals he received. But he had been—and a fully new arm was out of the question at this point.

Rab was struck by how silly—how sad—it was that he was down to this—using his prosthetic eye to record videos of pretty colors for chemical abusers to entertain themselves with.

The Blood Letters had done real work—and they’d made real money doing it. And now? He was delivering barely-illegal cargo to backspace planets and selling vids to life-wasters to keep the Downed Horizon, which was also his home, fueled.

While the video of his past fifteen-minutes uploaded itself to the ship’s local hard drive, Rab could feel T-12’s robotic eyes analyzing him.

“If you’re trying to read my biometrics, you can stop. I’m not sick. I’m not disturbed. The injuries from that last delivery have almost fully healed—just some tightness across the ribs when I stretch.”

“I would never condescend to check your vitals without asking you first. I would hope you would know me better.”

Rab thought he could hear actual indignation in the war bot’s vocoder-induced voice. He turned and looked at T-12.

It seemed so rare for him to actually look at T-12 these days. These months. Too much a reminder of how things had gone. Of what had happened.

His black-metaled, Humanoid form was as comforting as a dog foaming at the mouth, but Rab had known the robot long enough to know that T-12 would never do him harm.

Rab appreciated the company, of course. T-12 was a decent conversationist—and a damned good chess player who would (only) occasionally let him win—but he was still…A robot.

Rab was struck by his own softness—had he not spent nearly eight years completely alone on the streets of New Earth, fending for himself?

Had he not done things he could no longer speak of in order to stay alive? Stolen from people—hurt people—even killed those who would have threatened his existence?

He had done everything necessary—and nothing short of it. He wasn’t sorry for it.

There was no warmth on those streets—New Earth may have had a temperate climate, but Rab still felt a to-the-bones chill when he thought of the planet and his childhood there.

And here he was—bemoaning that his only company was a war bot who would die before allowing him to suffer harm?

Straighten up, man. You’ve had it far worse. Remember how it was when you and Reese—

But again, Rab was struck by memory.

Reese was dead. Nostalgia wouldn’t bring her back. Wishes wouldn’t put oxygen in her lungs—and even if it did, after what that monster did to her—

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

Rab has spent the first few months after…what had happened…recoiling emotionally. He’d set the Downed Horizon on a drifting course towards a distant sun.

It would have taken a month for the ship to reach the sun and burn to a crisp, ending his life.

T-12 had been aboard and had agreed to not do anything to stop their fate.

Because T-12 believed in him. As much as a robot could believe in a Human. Rab supposed that T-12 wasn’t like most robots—he was certainly capable of more critical thought. Maybe he’d known all along that Rab wouldn’t let the ship become ashes.

And he hadn’t. That was why they were now on the way to a planet no one cared about to deliver something the Galactic Coalition police probably would have laughed at and allowed through customs without a fuss.

The plant, fairgone, of New Earth was a simple hypnotic—best imbibed by smoking or making a tea from it. It didn’t cause the user any known long-term health problems and consumers of it were often the most docile within their given populace.

Personally, Rab didn’t see the appeal. The drug was useful for relaxing, he’d been told, but Rab had never really understood the concept of that word anyway.

Relax.

It sounded like something in Chig or Nestapian. Foreign to his Common English speaking tongue, hard to pronounce and harder to understand.

No one who grew up on the streets of New Earth took to the idea of relaxation. They all knew exactly what Rab knew—that the second—the microsecond—you did that…that was when the blade dropped on your neck.

#science-fiction #novel #sci-fi #serialized fiction #serialized novel #serialized story #first post #writing #fiction #nanowrimo #Rab #T-12 #aliens #Star Wars #books

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pen-whipped · 7 years

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The Rabbit Hole

(for my friend that asked to remain nameless)

Just west of Colorado Springs, Colorado is a town tucked so neatly on the side of a mountain that the entire place rests on a slope. Buildings look half as tall on one side as they do the other. Ma’ & Pa’ shops and taverns line the main street, while houses hang off cliff sides. Usually, walking the streets is a nearly perfect 50/50 mix of locals and outsiders, and it’s obvious who's whom. It's like one part hemp jewelry and sun skirts and the other part Fossil watches and Polo t-shirts. Not today though; it’s raining. No one’s out. So this visiting burlesque performer—whom I’ll refer to as "Ms. International" (because she’s a professional performer who trots the globe)—she and I stay in the car and watch the slanted town just as one would a movie at a drive-in theatre: through the windshield.

After Colorado, Ms. International tells me, she and a handful of other burlesque stars are going to Australia for a two-week tour. Burlesquers in the "land down under" makes me think about the rabbits Westerners took there and offset the ecosystem. I imagine burlesque with no known predators in Australia, resting at the top of the food chain and disrupting the order. I hope your guide there is better than I am here, I say to her, referring to the limited information I provide of the town as it plays on the windshield screen. Then I’m off the rabbits and on to bigger thoughts, thinking about how burlesque is conquering the planet these days like colonialism, imperialism, and capitalism. All “–isms” of Western affairs—Burlesque-ism, brought in for sport and game only to multiply exponentially and cause chaos among the natives.

Through the rainy windshield the buildings bleed together and become one, washing into a collage until it all looks like the same mess. I mention the rumors about the little town having more Pagans than any other city in the nation — another really bad tour guide informational bit. Not like devil-worship Pagans, I clarify, more like earthy hippies. And Ms. International’s quick to say she understands. There’s only a moment’s pause before she slides her eyes toward me beneath her droopy Jessica-Rabbit-like eyelids, sort of the way a crook in a cartoon would when looking around to make sure no one was suspicious of the crime about to be committed. Then she says out of the side of her mouth, I practice Santeria, ya know.

I don’t know. All I know is the moment she says she practices Santeria that Sublime song jingles inside my head. I don’t let her know this song reverbs in my skull and gets stuck on repeat of the only four lines I know from it, even as our conversation continues. But the guy in the song says he does not, in fact, practice Santeria anyway, and he also ain’t got no crystal ball. But Ms. International immediately has my curiosity in the palm of her hands like a crystal ball, clouded and hazy and swirling about, ready to discover some fortune.

I remember another line in the song, something about poppin’ a cap in Sancho and slappin’ a chick down, and I ask Ms. International exactly what Santeria is. For some reason Voodoo comes to mind, I tell her. The song loses its lyrics, limited as they are, and becomes a hum in my head. Background music. Score for the film melting on the glass movie screen before us.

And so she gives me a history lesson — more informative than, but about as brief as, my tour guiding of the rain soaked town - which, by the way, we are no longer giving much attention to since this Santeria bit is far more intriguing and has an internal soundtrack, same four vocal lines mixed with bad humming as it may be. While both were heavily influenced by Africans via the slave trade, Voodoo grew from the mixture of cultures in Haiti. Santeria, she explains, grew from almost the same mixture, only in Cuba, so a dash more Spanish - which inevitably means a dash more Catholic. It’s what the slightest difference in any recipe will do, I’m thinking, wondering about an offset of the slanted mountain town’s perfect mixture of Pagans and Yuppies, thinking neither is like the rabbits in Australia since they seem to have created a perfect ecology of economic trade; perhaps this is a capitalistic version of Santeria.

Sancho better run and hide if he knows what’s good for him, because daddy’s got a new .45!

She tells me how the slaves would pray to the Catholic idols. Little bobble-head figurines of The Virgin and other saints, I’m imagining, thinking that at the bottom level of a ship at sea, bobble-heads would really sway and look alive. They we’re actually praying to their own gods, she says (only Ms. International doesn’t say, gods, she says, Orishas). They used the Catholic saint figurines as disguises, she continues. So long as the Spanish crew thought they were praying to their completely non-fictional santos and not some make-believe Pagan gods, then they would permit the slaves their prayer.

This, to me, I say, is all religions. Rain soaked and bleeding together. A chimera bobble-head with the hair of its main swaying over its goat-like body and serpent tail. They all borrow images and ideas from one another. The town through the windshield. Silver screens and drive-ins. Christians in Australia — they took more than rabbits for game to hunt; they took the fucking Easter Bunny too. An entire ecosystem ruined.

Of course my ignorance of Voodoo makes me think about pinpricked dolls and headless chickens. And so now I have an image of Pinhead from Hell Raiser as a bobble-head dancing on my dashboard. Its head swings to Caribbean grooves that come from some white guy singing about sticking the barrel of his .45 straight down Sancho’s throat, like a needle in a cursed doll.

My silly thoughts do not hide my true interest though. I’m rather intrigued by this new knowledge, this history and philosophy and religion all meshed together: a syncretism — a new “–ism” in the confinement of my car. I want to keep Ms. International talking. Teaching me. Her knowledge is like wild hares escaping to Aboriginal planes.

I respectfully ask Ms. International if she believes in or practices any kind of sacrificial killings. A question logically in sync with my ignorance. I do in fact make offerings to certain Orishas, Ms. International says (only, I now know Orisha means god). Each Orisha requires specific offerings for specific blessings. An offering means you give something up and is very much a sacrifice in this way, but, she says, killing animals is done only by high ranking spiritual leaders — Santeros, Babalawo, and others in the hierarchy — those atop the food chai. And it’s only done in very rare occasions.

When you give something up, something is given in return, Ms. International says. And when you take away from others, something is taken from you. So taking the life of any creature carries great risk.

Now I’m thinking about American Indians saying thank-you prayers to a dying buffalo as they rip its heart out, then making use of every square inch of its body. This is Eucharist type-a-shit. To be at one with the Earth in this way. The universe. Buddhism comes to mind. Hippies. Yuppies. Hindus. Karma. Christ on the cross. It’s all watered down and drenched, bleeding together as one. And even though I don't admit it, I think about that Cosby girl, Lisa Bonet, in that movie Angel Heart, dancing around a camp fire in some Voodoo trance while strangling a headless chicken. And still, that fucking song, jingling away about Sancho stealing his girl. But now, this deep in the hole with Ms. International, I see that just as Sancho has taken, so shall he soon lose something - lost via the barrel of a .45 straight down his punk ass throat.

It all comes together in a way that makes sense. And I tell Ms. International one of my favorite quotes from Ralph Waldo Emerson: "Man recedes as fast on one side as he gains on another." Technology, I say, is a perfect example (though this comes from no place of wisdom on my part since Emerson uses the Geneva watch as an example in the essay this quote is from: "Self-Reliance"). Look at all the world around us and how it developed new and fascinating amenities; we can travel by car, plane, and boat, but we’ve lost the ability to walk great distances; we can send emails, text, and Twitter but we no longer speak verbally to one another. Man has a fine Geneva watch, Emerson says, but he can no longer tell time by the sun itself. And I’m thinking about the slanted town’s people, one half with hemp bracelets and the other half with Fossil watches. Neither can tell time by the sun. And with this and so many other similarities and offset relationships, both sides bleed together and become the same mess. I recognize truth in Emerson’s claim; I always have. I explain to Ms. International that I also believe the opposite to be true. Emerson says that through any gain, a loss naturally occurs; and so contrarily, I believe that through a loss, so too would a gain occur. A sacrifice. Whether given or taken. One and the same.

I realize that I myself do believe in sacrifices, Karma, Jesus on a stick, Pagan witches burning on a stake, bobble-head shish-kabobs. It’s all the same, I say to Ms. International. Hypnotized by the water on the windshield. Every inch of Christ's body was used like a buffalo, salvation for those still living, feeding off his remains. Flesh of my flesh. Here and now. Give and ye shall receive. Eye for an eye and all that shit. We are all Pagan Christian Santeriaist Voodoo Children of the Corncob Buddhists. All of us—floppy-eared mutant beasts offsetting ecologies because we have no known predators. Even Ms. International, as she sits in my car, changes me with new knowledge like wild hares on my plane head. It's what we hope education will do. Experience and awareness passed between us to bring us all together and make us one and the same. A mess. A collage. Watered down. And in this way, we are all soaked the same with Truth. All of us are like rabbits in Australia, something in a foreign land burrowing holes and multiplying, wreaking havoc where order resides, and destroying the natural habitat of ignorance.

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