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rainandhotchocolate · 5 years

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Marbles - Part 6

A/N HEY I HAVE BEEN SICK AS BALLS so sorry that this took so long, but you’ll be happy to know that in my delirium I started multiple fics in my notebooks, so I should have a few things to upload this week ayay.

This is the last Marbles part btw ;) But send me a message if you want anything more from these fun ol’ characters, I really like this fic!

It’s also bloody long for one of my chapters so I hope you enjoy hehe

Part 6

Dear Y/N,

I know it’s been a weird year

I wanted to say that I’m really sorry for treating you

I don’t know how you could do something like that, what have you become

You know you haven’t sent me a single letter all year, what do you expect me to think? If you’d just

I miss you.

Sirius.

~~~~~~~

Sirius’ heart was pounding faster than he thought possible. It was like his life was flashing before his eyes, but instead, it was just moments with her. Laughing on the Hogwarts express as they hovered small green, fake, frogs down the hallway and heard the shrieking of the first years as they ran in the opposite direction. Hanging their legs out the side of the small window in Sirius’ bedroom at the Black household as they listened to the new Queen album on repeat on the lowest setting so that his parents wouldn’t hear it. Seeing that small smile play on her face as told her about his new room at James’ house that was covered in pictures of them all and had a brand-new record player.

The way his heart skipped a beat when she arrived at one of the pureblood balls in a bright red dress that hugged her figure, her hair curled and shining under the large chandelier.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s lips were red, cheeks looking like they had been pinched, and Sirius couldn’t help but stare, wanting to drink it all in so he could have another memory of her to hold onto.

Y/N’s sharp voice cut across his thoughts.

“What are you doing?”

Sirius wanted to think that he knew her expressions by now, but after being apart for so long he couldn’t help but think that perhaps he was imagining the way she seemed to be holding back a smile.

“I… I don’t know, I just wanted to and…” Sirius felt the surge of confidence he’d had moments before fall short. He hadn’t exactly thought this the whole way through.

“You can’t just do that! You can’t kiss me and think I’m going to melt in your arms and forget everything you did, everything you thought that I could have done,” Sirius felt a stab of pain in his chest when he heard Y/N’s voice break slightly.

“I didn’t mean that I wasn’t trying to force you to forgive me, I just ugh,” Sirius huffed, the swirling of thoughts going through his head making him want to just turn around and sprint away, not have to deal with any more confusion. But he wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to let the girl he’d been watching from the corners for seven years slip out of his fingers once more, “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”

“I thought you hated me, Sirius,” She replied coolly, watching him with daggers for eyes.

“I don’t hate you! I could never, I – fuck I really messed things up between us didn’t I?” He groaned, leaning against one of the large stone pillars that seemed to grow out of the dungeon floors behind him, “I got scared, I didn’t know what to do with the idea of having… feelings for…”

“A pureblood Slytherin,” Y/N finished for him. Sirius wasn’t sure if there was more understanding or spite in her tone, but he pressed on all the same, determined to get this out.

“Yes. And then I saw you, well saw what I thought was you playing a cruel prank on those first-years and it just gave me the perfect excuse to run away.”

Sirius blew out a long breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, waiting for Y/N to react, to do anything. Instead, she stood perfectly still, her head cocked to one side as she watched him closely. Once upon a time this might have meant she was working on something, a new spell, a new trick, something she would have shared with Sirius.

“So, what you’re saying, is that you were a coward?” She continued to watch him with her now infuriatingly blasé expression, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you goading me?”

“Perhaps.”

“Does this mean that we are ok enough to be teasing each other?” Sirius teased, a little hope fluttering into his stomach. Y/N sighed and raised a hand to her hips, shaking her head.

“Sirius you badmouthed me to all of my Gryffindor friends for a year, cut me off, made me feel like dirt for doing nothing more than what you would have done.” She paused, not making eye contact with him, “I can’t just pretend you never did that, that you don’t have a deep-seated issue with who I am.”

“It’s not you, it’s never been you, it’s how I- we grew up. You know that, you know it was about Slytherin and what that meant to me. You were different than them, are different,” The moment the words left his mouth he knew they were the wrong ones. Y/N’s nostrils flared, her mouth curling into a tight frown as he pleaded with her.

“I am not different from them. Slytherin has been my home, my support system, a better support than you have been these past few years. I cannot be separated from where I belong, and I don’t want to be. Either you sort out your problems with Slytherin and purebloods from the assholes who defile our name, or you leave me alone.”

With that she turned on her heel and stormed away, no doubt towards the Slytherin common rooms. Sirius suddenly had a flash of a memory, of her bringing him down here under the invisibility cloak so he could see it, the excitement in her eyes at showing him her space, her home. You absolute prat.

Sirius wandered slowly back up to the Gryffindor common room, not really wanting to go back but unsure what he could possibly do out here in the dark that would make him feel any better. The castle was cool, the stone floors and wooden bannisters sharpening every noise he made as he made his way to the Seventh floor. Her words kept repeating themselves over and over in his head I’m no different from them.

He hadn’t really realised until she put it into words, that that was how he had justified their friendship. And not just to himself but to his friends, to anyone who questioned their unlikely relationship, the pureblood traitor and pureblood heir.

He’d made excuses for being with her told people she wasn’t like the rest of them, that she only hung out with the others from her house so she would fit in, so she wouldn’t be tortured in her sleep. He had never bothered to ask whether they could have really been her friends, been kind to her, given her solace when he was somewhere else because how could they? They were Slytherins, would do anything to get their way, were loyal to only themselves, just like what was said in the Sorting Ceremony every year and was whispered throughout the Gryffindor common rooms since he was a first year.

Had he ever bothered to get to know any of them? Even Regulus he had ignored, pushed away, his own brother.

Sirius shivered, feeling a cool breeze come down from one of the open windows in the Gryffindor common room. He’d barely remembered moving his way through the halls in silence and getting through the portrait hole, but the air froze him to his spot. I messed everything up, I’ve messed everything up. The words carried him up into his dorm room where the four other boys were sleeping, Remus and Peter snoring loudly in the corner and James locked in a battle with his be spread. They carried him to the windowsill where Sirius used to write letters to Y/N to send across the castle or to her home over Christmas break. He picked up his quill and a roll of parchment, his chest a little tight and began writing, Dear Regulus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the weeks that followed Sirius had only one thought in his head, win back Y/N. He would do whatever it takes to prove to her that he could get over this the ridiculous story he had made up in his head about Slytherin evil, which he knew was likely the result of attempting to push away everything that had reminded him of his childhood, and the people he believed to see true evil in.

“Oi, Sirius! James is looking for you,” Peter had poked his head through the portrait hole, getting pushed in by a bustle of students coming back from Hogsmeade with bags filled to the brim with fake wands from Zonkos or fizzing whizzbees from Honeydukes.

“Oh shoot, I forgot I was meant to meet him, is he mad?” Sirius felt like he’d been in a daze, stuck in books, planning.

“He’s ‘James’ mad, he’ll be fine soon enough,” Peter brushed the snow off his clothes and sat next to Sirius, “What are you working on?”

“I’m glad you asked Wormtail,” Sirius replied, his eyes flashing with a kind of mischievousness he usually had when he was planning another prank, “but we’re going to need the others help on this one, where are they?”

“They went straight to the Great Hall for lunch, I wanted to check-in.”

“Cheers Pete, let’s get some food, shall we?” He stood up quickly, heart pounding in excitement. He had a plan, a way to show Y/N he was changing, he could change. The boys hurried down the stairs, mostly due to Sirius’ fervour in wanting to meet the other two as soon as possible

Sirius dodged a group of girls who were watching him closely as he entered the Great Hall and headed straight towards the Gryffindor table, sliding in beside Remus and James who looked very startled at his reappearance.

“Ok boys, we’re throwing a party,” Sirius grinned widely at them all, pushing forward a large notebook full of his very messy handwriting and a couple of fun doodles. There was a pause wherein the three other marauders stared at him, James still slowly chewing a large bite of potato.

“Fuck it, I haven’t stopped studying for a month straight,” Remus nodded his head slowly, “There’s a full moon in two weeks and I’d prefer to get trashed before I get trashed.”

“Good, this one is going to be a little different.”

Before long, the boys had spread people across the three other tables in the Great Hall spreading whispers of a large party that was going to occur the next Friday in the Gryffindor common room, everyone invited. They’d made a big point of ensuring no one knew where the invite had come from, given that there were certain people… or houses that may not come if they knew the four very annoying boys who were throwing the party.

The week felt like the longest Sirius ever had to endure and had many more trips to the dungeon than he would have preferred in order to try and lure Regulus out to talk to him. He would be damned if the Slytherin’s were going to miss the party just because it was in the Gryffindor common room. They had wanted to have it next to the Black Lake, but there was much more room for error.

“Merlin’s Beard Sirius, what are you doing here?” Regulus’ voice had deepened since he last saw him, and Sirius felt an irritated pang that he’d missed his brother going through the funniest part of puberty.

“You weren’t responding to my letters,” Sirius replied, knowing that this response would annoy his little brother, but not able to come up with anything more interesting as he stood there, trying to take in all the differences. He looked distinctly older, and paler, though Sirius wasn’t surprised since he hardly saw him out of the castle, especially since he’d quit the Quidditch team. His hair seemed to be unwashed and a little matted, unheard of for the Black family as Walburga would beat you silly if you didn’t look presentable at all times.

Sirius wanted to ask about these things but stopped himself, knowing that Regulus would just shut the common room door in his face.

“Yes, I would have thought you’d got the message by now,” He spat, not looking him in the eye. Sirius wondered if it would be harder to be as stoic if he did.

“Well I thought I would ask you in person then, there’s a party in Gryffindor tower tomorrow, you should come – you and your friends.”

“What? You’d dare mix with my Slytherin friends? Is this the new and improved Sirius? The one that didn’t leave me to take over as the heir of the Black family. Left me behind for a better family, new brother?” Whilst he was clearly trying to keep his face calm, Regulus voice cracked mid-sentence and he’d gritted his teeth to avoid it happening again. Sirius had expected this, he’d seen Regulus’ face when he slammed the door on his family’s home in Grimmauld place.

“It’s just an invite, nothing more.”

“Well enjoy your party,” Regulus turned on his heel and slammed the door so hard Sirius felt a cool wind whip him. He cursed, but left anyway, heading back to his dorm room. Perhaps he would change his mind Sirius tried to convince himself but he knew it was useless. Perhaps you can’t save everyone.

Friday morning felt louder than usual, with groups of girls giggling about outfits, and boys trying to seem extra macho as they walked passed, chests puffed out, wondering who they might meet tonight. Sirius couldn’t pay attention in class, and was incredibly thankful that the teachers were focused entirely on revision for their NEWTs, most spells that he had already mastered.

“Looking very suave, Padfoot,” James winked at him as he pushed him out of the way to look at himself in the mirror instead. James was wearing a full suit and bow-tie that he had bought in a muggle vintage store with Sirius last summer, “Lily’s going to faint.”

“I’m thinking for other reasons than you’re thinking,” Remus rolled his eyes, tucking his brown belt into his jeans.

“Are we supposed to be more dressed up?” Peter squeaked, looking a little green, wearing a large knitted jumper and blue jeans, fiddling with his sleeve.

“No, James just likes being obnoxious, take no notice of him,” Sirius pushed James out of the way so he could take over the mirror again, tucking in the Led Zepplin t-shirt into his black jeans.

The common room bustling with people from every house and year when the Marauders made their way downstairs and towards the fire. The furniture had already been pushed to the side, a large table with drinks and an abundance of food placed under one of the windows.

“I think it’s time,” Remus nudged Sirius as they heard the Fat Lady begin to complain loudly about the number of people she’d had to let into the common room in the last hour.

“ALRIGHT EVERYONE LISTEN UP!” Sirius’ voice boomed across the common room as it had almost completely filled up. James was standing next to him shushing anyone that dared whisper as he began to speak, “As you know normally our parties have a no rules rule attached to them.”

A loud whoop went up from a group of boys all wearing Gryffindor colours, some of the girls giggling up at them as well.

“But this party is going to be a little different.”

“That’s right, Mr Black, we’ve been hearing that there have been some disappointing acts of prejudice between houses. And whilst we’re not going to name names,” James pointed over exaggeratedly at himself, earning a trickle of laughter across the room, “we can’t be fighting each other before we’re even out there in the midst of a war.”

“SO, this time you aren’t going to know who's from where or what family or all that nonsense,” The crowd looked thoroughly confused, many looking a little sceptical at their slightly ridiculous speech but Sirius waved his wand towards the crowd and saw a quick change in expression. The bright colours and emblems that the students had so proudly walked in with had vanished, leaving grey scarves, badges or anything else that they had been wearing over muggle clothes.

“And so you don’t get all smart on us and just ask each other, we’ve put a tongue-tie curse on this room that will stop you from saying what house you’re in or family you’re from,” James added with a wink, “So make sure you know who your family members are before you go shacking up in the broom closets.”

“Alright, get cosy with some people you’ve never bothered to meet, drink our secretly spiked punch and please dance in ways that would annoy a significant other,” James waved his wand again and golden streamers flew around the room, hanging across the fireplace and windows and music began to blast loudly from the record player in the middle of the room.

They jumped down from the table, grinning widely at each other.

“A success!”

“Truly our finest hour.”

“Even I have to admit it was a pretty good trick,” Sirius whirled around to see Y/N leaning on the side of the table, a smile playing on her face.

“You came,” Was all he could think to say, and he wanted to hit himself for it.

“Of course, I did, I received at least 10 letters about it,” Y/N snorted, moving into the room and taking a look around.

“I sent one letter thanks, let’s not overexaggerate my commitment,” but he winked at her as they moved towards the windowsill and out of the way of anyone who had the potential to elbow them or pull them into a dance. They sat on the pillows lined across the windows, watching the party unfurl in silence for a moment.

Sirius pulled out a small package from his pocket, fingering it in his palm, unsure whether or not he should give it to her. Y/N seemed to make up his mind for him, taking it out of his hands and turning it over in her hands.

“What’s this?” She looked up at him curiously, obviously trying to feel what it was in her hand.

“It’s… well it’s for you,” Sirius admitted a little awkwardly, looking down at it in her palm. He wasn’t just working on the party this week, he’d also been fiddling with a small present for Y/N, something he’d thought about getting for her seventeenth birthday before they’d fallen out.

“You got me a present?” Y/N’s tone was confused but she was smiling, her cheeks flushing a little.

“Just open it,” Sirius nudged her shoulder playfully and she pulled apart the wrapping quickly. It revealed a dark green, little silk bag with a string tying it together at the top. Y/N opened the bag and felt inside, her eyes wide as she realised what was there. She turned it over and poured the deep green and white marbles into her other hand, smiling up at Sirius.

“Marbles, really?”

“Slytherin coloured marbles of course,” Sirius winked at her and she laughed, moving them swiftly between her fingers. Suddenly they rose above her hand and began moving on their own, dancing in the air in different formations.

“What’s happening? I’m not doing this.”

“Just watch,” Sirius was still smiling at the very confused Y/N, and she turned back to watch the marbles as they became brighter and brighter until they seemed to fizzle in the air. After a second Y/N leaned closer, realising that they were spelling out letters in the air, fizzing in the same green and white the marbles had held within them.

‘I’m very sorry, Y/N’

“Couldn’t seem to say that yourself?”

“Well I figured I would probably need to say it again at some point so it might be easier to have something on hand.”

“Ahh so you’re sticking around huh?”

“Well, that’s if you want me to,” Sirius watched her closely. He wanted to know what she was thinking as she looked up at him, placing the marbles back into the little bag. She leaned in a little closer to him, her hair falling across her cheek as she became so close that he could smell the shampoo on her hair and almost feel her lips across his and-

“If you don’t, I’ll kick your ass.”

“That is a very fair call,” Sirius breathed in response. Y/N closed the distance between them and kissed him. It felt different to the other kisses he had remembered, or daydreamed about constantly, it was calm and soft, her hand brushing against his cheek as if she had all the time in the world to be doing this with him.

“I do want to be better, Y/N, honestly I know I’ve been an absolute twat when it comes to Slytherins.”

Y/N smiled at him but said nothing in return. Finally, she stood up and turned to face him, holding out a hand.

“Let’s dance.”

Sirius took her hand and took lead, bringing her into the middle of the dance floor where the crowd was louder and distinctly wilder. He held her close, moving her around the room with ease and spinning her around every few moments, mostly because of the way she laughed every time he did. Whilst the music had continued to pound loudly with 70s muggle disco music, he pulled her in close, wrapping an arm around her waist so that he could feel her pressed up against him, feel her heartbeat increase slowly as they danced out of beat across the room.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I… I love you,” He mumbled, feeling a little silly as he spoke into her hair.

“Well, Remus may have shown me some of your attempts at letters,” Sirius was grateful that she’d had the courtesy to sound abashed.

“Bloody prat,” He cursed, but she just laughed in return.

“I love you too.”

It took three hours for McGonagall to storm in and demand they turn the lights out and go to bed, but Sirius had a sneaking suspicion that she’d caught on earlier and given them a little extra time. Y/N had stayed behind, leaning her head on Sirius’ shoulder as they sat wrapped together on the couch.

“Are you ok?” Y/N murmured to him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. Sirius had obviously not done a great job at hiding his disappointment and sighed.

“Yes, sorry,” He paused for a moment before ploughing on, “He didn’t come.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sirius.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N sat up and moved over so that she was sitting in his lap, arms curling around his shoulders and neck.

“He’ll come around,” She spoke softer this time, it reminded Sirius of when she would whisper in his ear at functions, making him laugh and sending a shiver down his spine. Today it was just the latter.

“I don’t know if he will.”

“We’ll make him.”

Sirius’ hearted jumped at her use of ‘we’, but he hid it well.

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

She leaned in again but this time Sirius moved to meet her lips first so he could pull his hand up against her neck and feel the pressure of her whole body pushed up against his own. He wanted to get lost in her body, ignore the little thought that swirled around his head telling him lies about what Regulus was up to, why he looked so tired. But then she flicked her tongue into his mouth and he forgot, leaning back so she could push him up against the edge of the couch.

He was right where he always wanted to be, and nothing else mattered.

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buriedincharcol · 5 years

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Red and Blue Lights

(Red Crackle Detective/Criminal AU

@jaythesaltybastard i blame you for this and you know exactly what you did)

Carmen Sandiego had wanted to be a detective for as long as she could remember.

Every day after school, she would fight her sister Amy for the remote and plop herself in front of her family's old TV. When she won the hard-earned battle, she would adjust the antennas just right so she could watch her favorite programs: true crime shows and buddy cop movies. The young girl was riveted by the thrilling chase scenes, spellbound by the explosive shoot-offs, moved by the deep bond between partners, but most of all she was intrigued by criminals and the motivations behind their schemes.

Now one could argue that exposing an impressionable child to these kinds of media would desensitize them to explicit violence and perhaps even warp their moral values. These concerns would be perfectly justified and measures would be taken to protect their young minds... if it were any household other than Carmen's.

She and her sister Amy had been adopted by Kage Gozen - the ambitious, stoic New York Chief of Police (dubbed teasingly as Shadow-san by close family and friends). Instead of discouraging his daughters from following in the footsteps of their father, he encouraged their interest in his dangerous profession. Kage enrolled his daughters in martial arts and self-defense classes, taught them how to shoot, and drilled into them the nuances of the law. Perhaps he was grooming them to become officers - maybe he wanted to carry on the family profession of law enforcement just as he took up the mantle after the retirement of his mother, Tomoe Gozen, from the same position.

Or perhaps the weeb side of him just thought the idea of having a couple of badass anime kids was cool.

(There was evidence to suggest this was the case, but if forensic pathologist Doctor Bellum ever breathed a word that she caught him Naruto running down the street to catch a suspect then he would stop bringing his homemade castella cake to the break room every Sunday. It was mutually assured destruction - nobody would end up happy in that situation.)

Regardless of his intentions, Chief Gozen ended up with two very capable, very opinionated, and very independent young women.

Amy, always a stickler about the rules, decided to study to become a prosecutor. After seven grueling years of hard work, she cried when she finally passed the board exam and then cried some more when she realized they misprinted her last name as "Santiago" on her licence to practice law. Since the elder sibling was off doing another profession, that meant the responsibility to follow in their father's footsteps fell to Carmen.

It was good that the girl's father instilled her with a strong sense of justice and a clear distinction between right and wrong because otherwise her obsession with criminals and the law could have gone the other direction.

Can you imagine Carmen Sandiego as a criminal? Absurd.

She knew from the moment she graduated from the Academy that she'd have to work twice as hard and be twice as efficient than her male counterparts to be treated with even half the respect. This challenge only fueled her drive her to push herself and become the best cop in her father's precinct. She resolved that when she usurped Chief Gozen's position (not if, only when) she would leave no doubt that she earned the place for herself instead of gaining it through nepotism.

That wasn't to say that she hadn't already tried asking.

Eventually, her efforts payed off as she quickly rose from police technician, to officer, to detective. Carmen was sure that along with her trusty partner, Mike "Player" Tozier, she'd reach enough solved cases and arrests for their superiors to consider promoting them to corporals soon. They had a 98% success rate - so far, it looked like smooth sailing towards her goal. What could go wrong?

(If you read the previous statement and thought to yourself: Ah, that looks like a setup to introduce someone or something that made everything go wrong...

...You'd be absolutely correct you funky little detective.)

The thief known as "Crackle" was the teensy, tiny wrinkle in her carefully mapped out life plan towards success.

"Evading us for the tenth time is not a small problem, Carmen." "Shut up, Player. I totally had him that time."

He had appeared out of nowhere and jumped onto the detective's list of Top Priorities when the Panthère de Cartier - a necklace crafted from glittering precious stones and white gold priced at fifty-two thousand dollars - disappeared directly from the neck of the actress known as Countess Cleo as she attended the Met Gala. She only noticed its absence when a photographer asked her out the bold fashion statement of wearing a folded piece of paper dangling from a piece of string as an accessory with her Ralph & Russo evening gown.

Law enforcement quietly infiltrated the Gala when the grand theft was called in by the woman. They discreetly pulled the victim aside to question her about the crime since the last thing they needed was frenzied paparazzi, press, and celebrities causing a panic and destroying potential evidence. Cleo was inconsolable as she cooperated with the police, makeup running down her face. While Player questioned/consoled the her, Carmen's intense grey eyes studied the note left over by the thief. Her gloved hands were careful while dusting the outside folded area for prints. No dice. When she opened the note it simply read: the name is Graham Crackle.

Carmen deciding that it was a stupid-ass codename, cut off the first part and dubbed him "Crackle".

At first she didn't have the slightest clue as to what the thief looked like, but then she noticed that at every crime scene that had Crackle's calling card - a note usually with some flirtatious pickup line or message - there would be a tall, athletic-looking man with swept back brunette hair on the security footage who would leave right before they arrived and would turn right at the last second towards the camera as if knowing that they would be watching.

Sometimes, if Carmen squinted hard enough at the grainy footage, she could swear that the man would flash a cocky smirk that felt entirely too much like he was mocking her personally.

However, she didn't look closely that often because Player would tease her relentlessly about her 'checking out the suspect'.

He would laugh, "Maybe that's why we haven't caught him yet - you have puppy love for the perp." She didn't know how else to reply except by shooting him a quick, but indignant "Shut up!"

She was an independent young lady with high standards to match her high moral values who absolutely did not blush whenever she opened up those notes and she absolutely did not lay awake in bed thinking about him.

"Well... shit," Carmen said aloud to herself as she stared up at the ceiling of her apartment, her short hair bedraggled from tossing and turning on her mattress as the night went on.

His motivations didn't make sense.

Crackle would steal an assortment of priceless items like the Olympic gold medal of athlete-turned-coach Sarah Brunt, the abstract (and disturbing) fine art paintings of the renowned Professor Maelstrom, and the bejeweled necklace of Countess Cleo along with other objects of high value. With his prizes, he could absolutely sell them with ease on the black market and gain a fortune... but that wasn't the case. After a few weeks or months at most, the items would be found in the homes of their rightful owners - it was like he didn't want to steal for the money but rather because it was like a game to him.

It was almost like he just wanted the attention.

Carmen laughed to herself, "What a stupid idea. What kind of dumbass-"

She was startled as a sharp knock on the door broke through the silence of her apartment. Still half asleep and groggy the brunette rolled herself out of bed, thumping onto the hardwood floor. She groaned as she stood up unsteadily, checking herself over on her iPhone camera to make sure she was at least halfway decent. The bright screen of the phone momentarily blinded her as she squinted at the time. She hissed, "What the- what the fuck it's fucking three in the morning? Who the fuck?"

Suddenly alert, Carmen grabbed a her father's present from when she first moved out: a big ol' can o' mace. She stalked toward the sound of the knocking. Apparently, her visitor had already become bored while waiting as they had taken to rapping their knuckles to different beats on the wood like they were playing a drum.

When she looked through the peephole, she realized that it was the brunette suspect from all the crime scenes:

Crackle.

As she swung it open, the door hit the inside wall of her apartment with a loud bang. He stopped mid-knock to look down at her (and the nozzle of her pepper spray) with an odd expression that seemed to show shock, apprehension, and... something else she couldn't recognize. Slowly, he raised his hands up to show that he was unarmed and they stood frozen in her doorway silently sizing each other up for a few seconds. The tension felt like it could be cut through with a knife.

"So, uh..." Crackle trailed off as his eyes traveled over her black sheep onesie, "Come here often, Lambkins?"

Huh, he's an Aussie.

Carmen's expression hardened.

In a flash of movement, her right hand free of the mace reached up and grabbed the collar of his shirt with an iron grip as she dragged him into her apartment. Still holding onto him, she turned slightly to kick the door shut behind them.

When she turned back, she noticed a deep rosy blush had exploded over his face.

Seeing him over the grainy footage of a security camera was much different than seeing him in person.

Oh no, he's hot, she screamed internally.

Her external expression remained stony as she advanced forwards while he was forced to move backwards, hands still in the air. Carmen shoved him onto her bed while she remained standing with the pepper spray aimed towards him; he fell onto the mattress with a yelp. "Do you do this with every strange man who shows up at doorstep in the middle of the night? Don't you think it's a tad too forward, mate? Not that I'm complaining-" "Shut up." Carmen cut off his nervous rambling.

She continued, proud that her tone didn't betray her internal freak-out, "You're going to tell me why you did what you did."

From his sitting position he looked up at her with a cocky grin, "I did a lot of things today, Red. You're gonna have to specify-"

Suddenly, the detective threw the pepper spray off the side as she leapt onto him. The woman quickly maneuvered until she ended up with one forearm at his throat, the other arm pinning his hands tightly to the mattress above his head, and both her knees squeezed securely around his hips to ensure he couldn't escape. However, escape was last thing on his mind at that moment. Carmen stubbornly ignored his pink flush as she spoke, "Did I not tell you shut the fuck up, Crackle? Did I fucking stutter?" He slowly shook his head under her grip. "I'm going to let you get up, and you're going to tell me why you went through all the time and effort to steal all those things only to give them back. I'm not playing around - if you fucking twitch wrong I'm going to knock you out cold and with the rest of the force will be here before you can even blink. Nod if you understand." He slowly nodded and she moved herself back until she was standing again.

Although their contact had ended as quickly as it had begun, Carmen could still feel the way his pulse fluttered against her skin.

Crackle sat up from his previous position on the bed while still looking up at her as he rubbed his neck, "First of all, the name's Graham. My friends call me Gray and I suppose you should call me that considering how close we were just a few seconds ago." She huffed and crossed her arms, glaring at him.

He continued, "Alright, so you asked me why I would rob shit and return it right? Well it's simple, there is no tragic backstory or puzzle I just wanted to get your attention." He studied her face to gauge her reaction and almost laughed at the way her expression could only be described as 'carmen.exe has stopped working'.

The cogs in her head turned, still processing his reason (and confession) when she finally let out a hysterical giggle, "I had my suspicions, but I didn't think anyone would be that much of a dork." He looked at her offended, "What? Theft is absolutely a valid language of love if you're trying to lure in a detective!" His upset tone threatened to turn her giggling into unattractive chortling, "Says who? What disaster of a person recommended this to you?" "My friend Jean-Paul said that's how he snagged his husband!" The thief defended. She stopped for a second, thinking about the familiar name, "Oh yeah, I know Antonio and his husband. He totally would've given stealing as a flirtation technique." Carmen made a mental note to confront the couple later about their unorthodox relationship advice.

The detective thought for a moment, "Wait, I hadn't even met you before you starting stealing things. Why me?" Graham looked off to the side and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, "I was just visiting to precinct to drop off something I borrowed from Antonio when I saw you working on a case with your partner. I thought you were cute so asked Jean-Paul for his advice, and the rest is history." She looked at him with exasperation, "I can't fucking belie- I would've gone out with you if you just asked me like a normal person, dipshit! You didn't need to break the law! I needed to do so much paperwork because of you!" Carmen waved her hands about to help express her frustration.

Graham looked at her as he seemed to think something over, "Well, what if I ask you out like a normal person now? What do you say about meeting me at that little cafe on 20th Street between 7th and 8th Avenue? Maybe on Friday at 8:00 PM?" Carmen considered him for a moment, "Okay, I'll meet you there... if you promise to stop stealing stuff and just date me like anyone else would." His mouth twisted into a cocky smirk, "No promises." She groaned as she grabbed his elbow, hauling him up and started to walk him back towards her door, "Why did I think you would reply any differently? Just... remember to bring your loot back to their owners."

"Of course, Lambkins"

"Don't call me that."

She opened the door and just as Graham was about the step out, she yanked him down so they were face-to-face; they were both hit with a sudden sense of déjà vu.

Carmen's stormy grey eyes peered into his as she spoke, "I just thought that you should know something before you leave: If I find out everything you've talked about was a lie? Or if you just disappear on me and don't show up on that date? I will hunt you down, I will find you, and I'll do worse things to you than what I did earlier when you got smart with me." Her soft voice was filled with warning.

Graham met her gaze with his own, his eyes eyes half-lidded, "Bold of you to assume that's not exactly what I want."

A rosy blush spread across her face as he smirked.

Carmen abruptly pushed him out the doorway and slammed it shut behind him, listening with her back to the wood until the sound of his footsteps in the hallway faded away.

She rubbed her face, tired from the events of the night as she shuffled back to her bed. Right as she was about to take a running leap onto the soft, inviting blankets, she noticed a folded piece of paper on her pillow. She hadn't even noticed him leave it there.

The brunette laughed to herself as she picked up the calling card and read aloud, "I’m supposed to be the thief, and yet you’ve stolen my heart." What a dork, she thought to herself.

And if Carmen's face heated up just a little bit then Player wasn't there to tease her about it.

#red crackle #my writing #graham crackle #carmen sandiego #carmen x gray

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saeitoshi · 5 years

Text

Convergence

Eiji turns his head to the left, admiring the vast sunny landscape through his window. “But when I first arrived there, I met a person who I knew who was unlike everyone else, someone who was special. And that is what he became to me.”

Fandom: Banana Fish

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 1,951

“Ehh why do I have to go?”

“Because you’re the one who broke the window, so you should take responsibility and apologize.”

Haruto grudgingly gazes to the right with his emerald eyes, seeing his next-door neighbor’s house now tarnished with a gaping, crackled hole in one of the windows. It wasn’t on purpose; he was practicing for his upcoming baseball game on Saturday but threw the ball a little too far. Now here he is, sitting on the backyard swing with his mother giving her good ol’ lectures on “already being 12” and to “grow up and be more like an adult.” He didn’t want to hear it. He was only 12 and felt like there were so many more years ahead for him to become the adult she envisioned.

“Can’t you come with me at least?” Haruto asks with a hopeful tone.

“No can do, sir. This is a chance for you to learn from your mistakes,” his mom sternly states. “Tell you what... afterwards I’ll treat you to some ice cream so you at least have something to look forward to.”

His mom ruffles up Haruto’s ebony-toned hair, the same color adorned by the former. The son pouts in response, silently annoyed at her contradictory message for him to act maturely but then still treating him like a child.

The mother adds on, “Besides, I’ve heard he’s really nice and friendly. It’s a shame he’s been bedridden ever since we got here.”

Haruto’s family had recently moved to this town a month ago. His mother is Japanese but his father is American, and ever since he was born they’ve been hopping around between different locations across both countries due to his father’s work as an ambassador. This small rural town just happened to be their latest pit stop. From what he has heard from the residents so far, the neighbor in question was always very jubilant and offered help to anyone in need until he developed arthritis in his legs. Even then, people had to forcibly keep him in bed until he finally relented and hired nursing staff for bedside care.

Haruto sighs, then despondently looks back up. “Okay, fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Staring at the front door, the nerves really begin to take into effect. Haruto starts deliberating over countless possible outcomes in the span of a few seconds. Would his neighbor be easily forgiving, or does he actually have a darker side that no one knows of? And if his neighbor asks for compensation to fix the window, how would he be able to afford such an expense? Would his mom pay for it, or would she tell him to be an “adult” and work to pay it off?

The young male continues to stand motionless outside his neighbor’s house, quietly anxious and his mind frazzled about what is to come. All of a sudden, he feels a sturdy yet light pat on the shoulder.

Haruto jumps in fright and quickly spins around, almost giving himself whiplash. There was no one to be found. Slightly scared and paranoid, he scans the premise to ensure that no one has been stalking him, but there was no presence to be detected. Strangely enough however, whatever it may have been, whether it be a gust of wind or simply his imagination, it felt very reassuring. It felt as if it was to encourage him, to let him know that everything will be just fine.

Shaking off his unease, Haruto deeply inhales and exhales. After a moment of silence, he finally knocks meekly on the door.

A middle-aged man opens the door, stating, “Hello, you must be Eiji’s neighbor. I saw you in the back earlier. Come on in, I was just about to leave to restock his medicine supply. You’ll find him upstairs in the first room on your left.”

Quickly realizing that he was one of the nursing staff, the adolescent simply nods and walks towards his destination. From his approaching perspective, he notices the door to Eiji’s room wide open, inviting anyone to enter with a friendly reception. The room is moderately decorated, nothing too extravagant but a rather comfortable abode. Haruto sees an elderly man resting upwards on his bed and reading a newspaper. His face though expresses so much exuberance, deducting from his appearance 20—possibly even 30—years of age.

Hearing the footsteps from Haruto, Eiji looks up and his face brightens up, “Ahh welcome! I’m Eiji, nice to meet you! Please take a seat. It’s not every day that I get a visitor besides the nurses, so by all means make yourself at home.”

Still suspicious of the impending wrath en route, Haruto reluctantly pulls a cushioned seat from the desk in the room to the right side of the bed, gradually descending to the chair as if to delay his fate.

“First of all, if you’re here to apologize about the broken window downstairs, there’s no need! The noise sure startled me, but my nurse went to check and explained that he saw your mother scolding you about it. You’ve probably already gotten plenty of lecturing from her, so I’ll hold off on that,” Eiji says with the biggest grin.

Haruto blinks in surprise, relieved that the “apology” was much easier than expected—if one could even call it that. The young male is left puzzled. Why did the old man want him to sit down then?

As if a telepath, Eiji answers, “I actually wanted to talk with you for a bit since I was able to overhear some of the conversation from up here. Let this old geezer give you a hand, I may not look like it but I’ve definitely been through my fair share of problems back in the day. But look at me, I’ve been talking this whole time, I didn’t even catch your name! Sorry about that. Like I said, it’s been since forever that there was someone new to talk to,” chuckling at the end of his ramble.

Haruto hesitates to reply, slightly overwhelmed with Eiji’s extroversion. Although he had just met his older neighbor, the sincere kindness emanating from Eiji makes Haruto want to spill all of his inner turmoil. So he does.

“Nice to meet you too, Eiji-san. I’m Haruto… and if I’m completely honest to you, I’m tired. I’m tired of my mom treating me like an adult in some instances and a child in others,” Haruto begins, laced with tension. “It’s like she thinks I’m old enough to be this full-fledged adult and handle all of my problems by myself in a mature way, but then also won’t take me seriously when I want to be and allow me the privileges that independence comes with because I’ll always be her baby son. She switches her view of me being an adult and a child to her benefit and it’s frustrating.”

Haruto ends his rant, clenching his fists in an attempt to assuage his emotions after the unplanned outburst. Eiji stares intently at Haruto, wholeheartedly concerned. After feeling confident that the latter finished his part, he commences his long response.

“You know, I used to live in America a while ago. In fact, the only reason I returned to Japan was because of my declining health. Before my legs gave out, I also developed issues with my lungs, and the pollution in the large cities was too concentrated so I had to move back home.”

He embellishes a small smile, fixing his gaze onto Haruto. “Had the same colored eyes as you, wouldn’t you know? In fact, if we had a son, he’d probably look just like you,” Eiji teases with a cheeky smirk.

He then continues, “But the emotions brewing within them were so powerful and engorged with internal conflict, I became drawn to them. He, too, was going through sort of what you’re troubled with. Although, he was placed in much more… uncomfortable situations. He was always pushed by the adults to become whatever they wanted him to be. He was forced to grow up and become a leader, while still being treated like the grown ups’ puppet.”

The elder leans as forward as he can from his stationed position, placing his hand on top of the youth’s lap. “This may sound tacky, but your mother really cares about you. She’s probably even scared of you venturing out into the real world by yourself, which is why she keeps alternating her stance for you to be independent with her desire to protect you from the brutality of the outside world. You’ll have to give her some patience, but what might be best is for you both to talk it over.”

Reclining back to his initial posture and lifting his head, Eiji’s eyes lighten up as he speaks, “As for that special person, he didn’t have anyone that he felt close to when I met him. I wanted to shield him from the cruel world, because behind that strong facade he had such a kind and fragile heart. We had been through so much together, and I truly felt that we had this indescribable bond.”

Haruto sits there quietly, soaking in everything the older gentleman has said. His mind elucidates through Eiji’s soothing voice, his feelings consoled by his insightful advice. Yet Haruto felt concealed loneliness, regret, and sadness from Eiji’s speech as he was talking about this “special” person. Whoever he was, he must’ve meant the world to Eiji.

Deliberating the best way to comfort him, Haruto whispers sympathetically, “Eiji-san… I-“

Before he could proceed, Haruto’s words cut off as he feels a large pressure weighing on his shoulders. And then his mind goes blank.

Unaware of the interrupted sentence coming from Haruto, Eiji lowers his head somberly, “I don’t know if I did enough for him. I wanted to keep him safe, to protect his delicate smile, to stay by his side forever. But I just don’t know if I was able to fill the void in his secluded heart.”

“Eiji.”

Eiji’s head shoots up, and as he looks into those jade eyes, his own eyes widen at the familiarity that radiates from them. They display the soft look that only he, no, only Ash would ever give him.

“You’ve always given me the warmth that I was missing my entire life. Because your soul is always with me.”

The tears erupt out of Eiji’s eyes, uncontrollable from all of his suppressed longing throughout the decades. He slowly reaches his hand out towards him, to hold the one hand that he wished he never let go.

The other party garnishes a heartfelt smile, and likewise extends his hand towards Eiji, until both hands grasp each other firmly yet gently. Their hands intertwine, filled with immense yearning and compassion, as if they finally returned home.

Giving one last smile in return, Eiji’s eyelids fall to a close.

Haruto promptly blinks, feeling dazed. He stares down at his hand, and then up towards Eiji and notices that he’s sleeping.

Confused as to why Eiji has randomly fallen asleep, Haruto becomes unsure whether to try to wake him up as he might be interrupting a nice dream.

However, the adolescent soon grew worried for the elder as he did not see any noticeable breathing coming from the latter. Quickly rushing, Haruto places his index and middle fingers on top of Eiji’s neck.

There was nothing.

#banana fish #bananafishdaily #dailybananafish #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #bananafishedit #my edits

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