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takadasaiko · 4 years

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Love Me Twice: Chapter Three

FFN II AO3

Chapter Summary: Red discovers that Tom is missing and tracks him down to St Regis while Tom looks for any answers he can find.

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Chapter Three

No one met him at the door. Not Benny, the guard who was always looking for his first chance to grab a morning smoke or Lomay who you could set a clock by the last weeks. Reddington risked a glance back at Dembe only to find the younger man brushing past him and taking the lead. It was clear something was off, even if he didn't have his gun drawn yet.

That changed for both of them as soon as they rounded into the hallway to see a figure laid out, white sheet covering him. They moved with a synchronicity that spoke of their years working together, Red clearing the rest of the hall and pressing the up button on the elevator at the other end before moving past to where Dembe had his cell phone pressed to his ear. "Dr Lomay isn't answering and Dr Chen's phone rolls straight to voicemail."

"Elizabeth," Reddington breathed, her name rolling off his tongue with no small amount of desperation in it. If she'd been saved only to lose her here, he didn't think he could bear it. Not again.

Dembe cleared the stairwell, Red following at his heels, and then to the second floor hallway once they reached it. It was there that any restraint dissipated and the Concierge of Crime tore past him with the single goal of reaching Elizabeth's room. The door stood slightly ajar, movement barely visible, and he swung into the room with his gun raised. Melissa Lomay let out a startled sound and dropped the bag of fluids she'd been replacing on Elizabeth's IV rack.

Reddington instantly lowered his weapon. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I've been a little busy," the doctor snapped, reaching to check the bag. Once she was convinced it was undamaged, she continued replacing the depleted one.

"What happened?"

She shot him a look, but answered. "Best I can tell Mr Keen finally had enough of the secrets."

"What?"

"He's gone. Daniel has a concussion from where Keen attacked him in the stairwell and Benny, as I'm sure you saw, is dead. His gun is missing."

"And Elizabeth?"

"Slept through it all."

Red finally loosed a breath, but turned a sharp glare on the doctor half a second later. "He was supposed to be sedated."

"He was. Steadily. Apparently he found a way around that on top of the typical limitations of someone with injuries like his. It was a move of a desperate man. We warned you that what you were attempting with Andrei was -"

"Yes, you've said as much," Reddington grumbled, waving her off. That was neither here nor there at this point. The key was finding Tom before he hurt himself further. Red had seen the blood stains against the wall like a man trying to keep himself on his feet as he stumbled towards the door. He just hadn't known it was Elizabeth's husband that had left them there.

"I have the footage," Dembe said from behind and Red turned. He hadn't even heard him leave.

He took the offered tablet and watched the four squares of recorded footage. Tom making his way down the hall from his room to Elizabeth's and then out again just a handful of moments later. The second box showed him exiting into the hallway below and the third box showing him stumbling into the street just outside of the building, a phone pressed to his ear. Chen's, Reddington suspected. It was likely in pieces now and impossible to trace. The last box showed a steady stream of the back alley, Tom never making it around that way.

"Get this footage to Glen. Have him trace Tom's path."

"Of course."

"If we don't find him soon, we won't find him at all."

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He thought he remembered someone ushering him into a car. Someone greeting him by name, hands on him to guide him, and then stretches of nothing. He thought he might have woken up here and there, but it was all interwoven with shadows of faces he couldn't quite see and voices he couldn't quite hear. There was one that was a little louder, a little more clear, and she called his name even if it wasn't Jacob. Somehow he knew it was his name, but even she faded eventually.

By the time Jacob's eyes slid open again, the sound of medical equipment all around, the dreams were gone. He knew he'd had them, but they were lost to the fog of his mind. Everything was by the time he pried his eyes open again.

"Welcome back, Mr Phelps."

"Hank," Jacob croaked, his throat dry and scratchy as he looked up at a familiar face. Hank Rogers had been over St Regis' medical facilities since before even Jacob had arrived years before. The man had patched him up more times than he could remember and if his surroundings were anything to go by he'd done it yet again. "What happened?"

There was a moment of hesitation and a flash of uncertainty. "You called for… an extraction. Do you remember what happened?"

Jacob grimaced and forced himself to think through the pain medication. "I woke up in this building."

"A hospital?"

"Sort of. Not public. I think they told me I'd been working a job, but I can't remember. Everything's fuzzy." He turned blue eyes to meet a set of dark brown. "Was I working a job? Hell, Bud's gonna kill me. How bad did I botch it?"

Hank's bushy brows drew together and the corners of his lips dipped low in a frown. "Let's worry about getting you well before we worry about… that, shall we?"

The door behind him slid open and Jacob struggled to see who was making their way in.

"He needs to rest," Hank greeted the person and finally shifted enough for Jacob to see Gina Zanetakos.

"How is he?"

"Confused, just like you said," the doctor murmured very softly, but not so much that Jacob couldn't make the words out.

"I'm right here," he grumbled and Gina's gaze snapped to meet his.

"What happened?" Her tone was strange. Cautious. Like she was waiting for him to take the lead so she knew which direction to lean.

"I don't know."

"You said you lost time."

"Yeah."

"How much?"

"I don't know."

"There's a lot you don't know."

"Gina," Hank snapped softly and turned his attention back to Jacob. "What year is it?"

A memory flashed through the fog. "The doctors that were holding me kept asking me the same thing."

Gina crossed her arms across her chest, impatience written in every line of her pretty features. "Did you give them an answer or jerk them around too?"

"'08," Jacob growled, matching her level of irritation, but just like that hers vanished and was replaced with surprise.

"2008?"

"No. Nineteen. Of course two-thousand."

"Jacob, look at me," Hank instructed, but as Jacob did he didn't like the older man's expression. "It's 2017. December."

Even with the firm mattress of the bed beneath him, Jacob felt his world shift. "What?"

"Two-thousand-seventeen," Gina stressed. Hank shot her a warning look.

"No. No… that's not…"

"It's alright," Hank promised, his voice soothing. "We did a pretty thorough exam when you came in, but we'll get to the bottom of this." He reached over to one of the many machines off to the side and Jacob heard a familiar woosh. Great. He'd made it out, made it back to St Regis, but nothing had changed. No answers and medication. Apparently that was everyone's answer to everything, he thought bitterly as he slipped under again.

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"You said there was no sign of head trauma," Gina growled as she blew through the door to her office. McCready's old office. The one she'd taken over after she'd put a bullet in his chest to save Jacob's life. Thankless bastard.

"We're still running tests," Rogers said, his tone holding a calculated level of patience. "Right now he needs rest. If he's staying, that is."

Gina turned and shot him an irritated look. "Find out what happened, how much time he's lost, and if he'll get it back." There was a stretch of silence and she could practically feel the disapproval rolling off of him even if the doctor kept his expression even. He would have made a fair operative if that had been the path he had chosen. He was also one of the only people left on the St Regis campus that survived her restructuring after she had taken McCready's place. He had earned it and he'd proven loyal, but he'd always been much more loyal to the individual operatives in his care than the institute on whole. "What?"

"May I speak freely?"

"Won't you anyway?"

A soft sound might have been a chuckle if not for the frown that had finally broken through. "I see what you're thinking."

"Do you now?"

"And I know how close you two were. I'm sure you've missed him -" she snorted at the statement and he shot her a pointed look - "even if you won't admit it. But Jacob made his choice, even if you and I are the only ones left here that remember it."

"A choice The Major put a price on his head for. Are you suggesting I finish it?"

"I'm suggesting you get word to his wife."

"She's a fed."

"She's his wife. Not a mark, not a job. A woman that, of all people, Jacob Phelps broke ranks for. She must be special."

Gina's gaze swept over him, taking every inch of his expression in. He was good. Careful. He didn't push on things unless he felt it down to his soul. On most days she found a strange sort of respect in that. Not today.

She leaned in, her words enunciated as she spoke. "I don't care."

"And if he remembers?"

"Find out if he will."

"And if he doesn't, what? You'll just keep him here?"

She shrugged, idly picking up a paperweight from her desk. "If he doesn't, he'll make us a lot of money just like he did before."

--------

Glen Carter was one of the more obnoxious individuals that Red had ever come across. The man riled him up for sport, jerking him around with his pathological lies and wild excuses, but in the end he was still the most talented tracker that Reddington knew.

He had uncovered footage of a man that had parked a block down from the building that Red had been using to keep the Keens safely hidden away. The man had gotten out and moved out of the camera's line of sight, but when he returned he was supporting a familiar figure all the way to the passenger's side.

The camera had only caught one usable angle of their mystery man, Glen had argued, and that's why it had taken time. Even so, nearly two weeks after Tom had managed his messy escape - and Reddington had moved Elizabeth, not willing to risk underestimating him again - Glen had found the location of the man that had picked him up. Not Tom himself, but it was a start.

Brimley was sitting in a chair outside of a closed door when Reddington arrived, breathing deeply from his oxygen tank, and his focus on the task was absolute.

"Has he given you a location yet?"

Brimley took one more long breath before removing the mask from his nose and mouth. "Took some work, but training only takes ya so far. Hit just the right nerve and he sang like my Aunt Myrtle's yellow canary."

"And?" Red pressed, an uncomfortable feeling tightening his chest at the look he received.

"He's ready for you. Switch is on the right."

Reddington gave him a brief, terse nod before moving into the room. It was quiet inside - eerily so - and pitch black so that the light from outside the door flooded in like a tidal wave, leaving the hunched figure in the corner curling in on himself a little more. Reddington reached over without looking, and even he had to wince as the lights snapped on at top voltage.

Their man - Eric Sneider seemed to be the final consensus, though the man appeared to have his pick of names he chose from on a regular basis - yelped at the sudden illumination. It was a wonder. Teddy had had him five hours at the most. How he did it, Red would never know.

Nor did he care right then.

He moved towards the trembling man, his steps slow and deliberate, and he made sure that the legs of the metal chair scraped loudly across the concrete floor as he pulled it towards him and took a seat. "Mr Sneider. Do you know who I am?"

The man finally uncurled just a little from his ball of fear to turn wide, red-rimmed eyes on him. His jaw dropped a little. "You're Raymond Reddington," he managed, a sense of awe in his tone.

"Yes."

"What do you want with me?"

"Tom Keen."

"I… I don't know who that is."

Red tilted his head to the side, considering. No. He wouldn't, would he. "Jacob Phelps then."

Sneider flinched back. "I don't—"

"I would think long and hard before lying to me, Mr Sneider."

"I can't. She'll kill me if I talk. "

"And I'll kill you if you don't, though I'd say I pose the more immediate threat," Red said as he pulled his gun from the holster and placed it on his knee.

"He… called in an extraction."

"Who did he contact? Who sent you?"

"St Regis." The confession was small, whispered and trembling. Reddington sat for a long moment. It made sense. Tom had asked for a phone and wanted to contact the Major several times after the failed memory procedure. And why wouldn't he? His mind was trapped back in 2008. A time long before he'd left the organization. Long before he'd considered it an option.

"That's it. I swear," Sneider half sobbed and Reddington turned his nose up.

"You're going to put me in touch with the person that gave you the order to come for him."

He held the other man's gaze for a long moment before he received a slow nod of confirmation.

--------

He was going stir crazy. After being drugged into a stupor and held hostage only to break out and make his way back, Hank had all but locked him in the medical ward and demanded bed rest. Jacob had complied, grumbling the whole way, and he certainly would never admit to feeling better for it. The pain had lessened, his strength was coming back in spurts, and even the knife wound in his side that he'd managed to reopen in his escape was finally starting to show real signs of healing. It was slow going - much slower than he was accustomed to - but Hank had reminded him that the body at thirty-three didn't bounce back quite as quickly as one did at twenty-three. Even if he didn't remember getting to those limits, he'd have to respect them if he was going to make a full recovery.

They still didn't know why he was missing time. Hank had put him through a gauntlet of tests and no head trauma was evident. The stab wounds and gunshot to the shoulder seemed to be the worst of it, but hardly explained anything. What was worse, Hank seemed hesitant to give him any details about what he was missing. Jobs taken, injuries dealt out. Jacob has scars from injuries he couldn't remember, and each time he tried to ask the old surgeon about it Hank sidestepped the answer.

That led him to where he was.

Bud's office door stood large and imposing. Operatives didn't just invite themselves over to it, or at least normal operatives. Jacob has never been normal and he'd never been good at waiting for answers. He wrapped his knuckles against the door hard.

There was a stretch of silence before shuffling and finally the door was opened by an irritated Gina from the other side. She stared at him, surprised, and Jacob was pretty sure he had at least one answer. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"What are you doing here? Rogers said you should—"

"Rest. Yeah. Been doing alot of that. You gonna let me in or leave me hanging in the hallway?"

Gina's lips twitched down but she stepped back, clearing the way for him to enter. The room was different. Same desk - damn thing was so large that it might have been more trouble than it was worth to move - but other than that there was nothing left of Bud. From the books to the type of liquor set up on the shelf. He'd been gone a while.

"How long?"

She knew what he was asking. "Best anyone can guess, a couple years."

"How?"

Gina shrugged, turning back to her desk and the files that were piled there. "We don't know. The body has never been found. I went with him for an op he wanted to oversee himself, but he never showed at the rendezvous. There was nothing after that."

"Bud wouldn't have gone down without a fight."

"One he must have lost. It was bound to happen. He had several close calls towards the end. Reddington, the Germans…" She was watching him now, almost like she expected it to jog a memory. Jacob has nothing and she turned back to her paperwork. "Bastard left me to clean everything up."

"Why didn't I help?"

"You do. You will. You've always belonged in the field."

"So do you."

"I've done alright here." She paused, that honey brown gaze sweeping him up and down. "Sit."

"That obvious?" Jacob chuckled, sliding into one of the plusher seats in the room. The walk over to her office had tired him out more than he cared to admit. "I need some answers, Gina."

"I don't know what happened to your memories."

"But you know what job I was working. Maybe if I could retrace my steps I could—"

"Why?"

Jacob blinked hard. "Because I've lost ten years."

"And you may never get them back. Best we can hope for is to get you back to work - back to normal - and who knows? Maybe something will click back into place."

There was something in her tone, in the way she brushed it off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Gina had always barreled ahead. She preferred it to looking back and it was one of the reasons they'd worked so well together for so many years, but it was all those years that he'd known her that made him think something was off.

She stood, drawing his attention, and he knew the look she was wearing. That little half smile and the way she held his gaze. She leaned down, hands on either armrest so that she pinned him into his spot in the chair, and she pressed her lips against his. Like her words, there was something strange about the kiss, but his need to feel something that was familiar won out and he reached up to pull her in deeper. He felt her smile into the kiss, settling down into his lap with one arm shaking behind him.

A loud, sharp ringtone shattered the moment and she let out a frustrated growl as she stood back to her feet. "I have to get that. There's an op in Hong Kong that we need to go well."

"You owe me some stories," Jacob said, his voice rough.

"As soon as I finish with this."

It was a dismissal if he had ever heard one, but as Jacob eased himself out of the chair and towards the door, he focused on the fact that he'd received at least one answer. The others would come… or they wouldn't. At least he'd made it home.

--------

The phone rang again and again, leaving Reddington to shoot his terrified hostage an exasperated look. If he'd been foolish enough to give him the wrong number, no one would be happy by the end of this.

Then it connected, but no one said a word. Well, she had learned her craft from Bill McCready, and the man had always been a fan of having more information than he gave away. Ah well. Reddington had found confidence often made up for what he lacked in concrete information.

"Gina. Raymond Reddington. I hear you found someone I'm looking for."

There was another bout of silence before a snort that might have been a laugh. "So that's where Sneider went."

"It is."

He could almost hear her lean back against some oversized desk and do everything she could to show a man that couldn't see her just how unruffled she really was. "What do you want?"

"A truce."

"I'm not at war with you."

"No, but your former employer was deeply in my debt. So often when a parent dies the children are saddled with all the promises that they couldn't fulfill."

"I'm doing just fine."

"So I hear. Old and new ops alike flourishing and intel coming in from all over the world, I'd imagine, but you and I both know that you will makethe operative of your choosing if I hire them."

"And in return you want Jacob?" she chuckled. "The highest earning operative that this organization has ever had… for what? One job? Anyone can see it's a bad business deal."

Red felt the small muscles in his cheek twitch with irritation. "You may try to make this about the money, Gina, but we are both well aware that it's not. It's the same reason that you took the fall for him in the Angel Station assassination, the same reason you hired him on when he came running to you after Bill put out a burn notice, and the same reason you put a bullet in McCready just a few weeks later: you can't let him go."

"He came back."

"Because he can't remember what he has here."

"And you think you can fix that? Give your pet fed her precious Tom Keen back?"

"I have the resources. The connections to give him a chance. If you truly care for him, Gina, you'll give me the chance to try."

There was a long, tense moment before: "He's made his choice."

And that was it. The line went dead and Reddington was left holding the phone, the truth oppressively heavy in the air around him. Tom was gone. Even with all of his resources, he needed Gina's help now that the younger man was hidden behind St Regis' wall of protection and she had made it clear that he wouldn't get that help.

"What are you going to tell Elizabeth when she wakes up?" Dembe asked softly from behind as Reddington snapped the flip phone shut with more force than was warranted.

"The truth," he breathed after a moment. "Her husband is dead."

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TBC

Notes: And so it's set. We're about to jump ahead to present day (aka, just after the S7 finale) in the next chapter and things are about to start ramping up. I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know :D

Next Time: An op pits Jacob against an old enemy, but when a client will only take the best, Gina volunteers him for the job.

#the blacklist #blacklist fanfiction #Tom Keen #Raymond Reddington #Dembe Zuma #Gina Zanetakos

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miss-pearlescent · 4 years

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Tag Team (VI)

Chapter: I II IIIᴹ IV V VI VII VIII IX Xᴹ

Kai woke up with a soft lump under his hands and a wet puddle on his chest. He cracked his eyes open and looked down to find a drooling Joori pressed against the crook of his arm, her head resting on his chest.

When he realized he was holding her butt like an animal, he moved his hand slowly to a safer spot on her hip.

Kai stared at the ceiling, warring with himself. He should move away and stop this cuddling. She would freak out if she woke up right now and found them in that position.

But a part of him warmed at the thought that she had found comfort in him when she slept. And that she slept so comfortably in his arms.

He knew he would remember this moment for the rest of his life, whether he wanted to or not. By sunset, he would be off alone again, fighting for himself and sleeping in caves.

He would not return to this cell if he could help it. He would find another place to work. Somehow, he would bring money back to his family.

Kai already knew he wasn’t going to accept money from Joori’s team. He would feel dirty taking their money because they weren’t the ones he was after.

His thumb caressed the curve of her hip as he thought of the last few days. He’d grown to like this woman, and he hoped the best for her. She was too trusting for her own good, but then again, so was he.

But unlike him, she was valuable to her team. She had told him she was the one who had developed the ear piece that allowed her to communicate with he teammates. Back in his town, she would be treated like a goddess. If she was in charge of technology and weaponry on her team, then they should protect her with their life.

At least Kai would.

Quickly, he closed his eyes when he felt Joori stir. She would likely be more embarrassed if he was awake.

Joori sat up hastily and his arm fell off her hip, but he stayed still, feigning sleep. She gasped and wiped his bare chest with her sleeve. Kai had to fight a laugh.

Kai felt the bed shift as she climbed out from his reach and placed his arm on his chest, bringing the blanket up to cover him up all the way to his neck.

He chose that moment to open his eyes and look up at her.

She jumped back, then let out a painful cry when her cuffs bit into her wrists.

Kai threw the blanket off and went for his key, but stopped when he thought about it for a second. Joori was already being too nice.

If he reciprocated, she would start trusting him more and he couldn’t have that. Kai was a rogue player. He didn’t want anybody on his side. They would only be a liability when the big boss comes and brings his fists down on Kai’s disobedience.

Instead, he stiffly reached over to his nightstand and poured her a glass of water. “Get ready. We leave in thirty minutes.”

Halfway through the two hour hike up a mountain, Joori spoke for the first time that day. “I’ve been thinking, Kai. Why don’t you join our team?”

He didn’t look back as he shook his head.

Well, that was an answer.

Joori pretended she didn’t see it. “You would be a strong asset. You are very strong and very fast, and you have really good hearing.” Mr. Lee always said Jongin was the brawn of their team, but Joori always thought he could be brawnier.

Kai rounded on her with a scowl on his face, forcing Joori to stop lest she bumped into his chest. She had drooled on that chest all night and the thought made her blush.

“I’m only this strong and fast because of what they did to me in that laboratory.”

Joori furrowed her brows. “But you said you used to work on a farm.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, cutting his hand through the air.

She became frustrated then. She didn’t usually like to voice her opinions because nobody really listened to her anyway if it didn’t involve computers and technology, but she wanted Kai to hear her thoughts. “It does matter. It made you the person you are today.”

“And look where that’s gotten me.” He looked out at the rocks and trees that hung over a stream that would quickly turn into rapids. “A prisoner holding a woman hostage for money and freedom. You think I’m proud of that?”

“No, but—”

Kai grabbed Joori by the shoulders and pressed her against the side of the mountain. For a fleeting second, her muddled brain thought he was going to kiss her, but he just stood in front of her, covering her from view.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Shh.”

Joori stayed quiet, listening.

And then she heard it. A helicopter.

Her stomach did a flip. Her team had come for her. “That’s my—”

Kai covered her mouth. “Run.”

She watched Kai in confusion as he pulled her up the mountain by the arm. Wasn’t his goal to meet with her team at sunset so they could give him the money he needed?

Joori peered at the sky above them and her eyes widened. No, it wasn’t her team. This helicopter belonged to the enemy.

And judging by Kai’s reaction, it was the boss.

Joori tore her eyes away from the sky as she missed a step and pitched forward, nearly landing on her face or breaking her wrists if it weren’t for Kai catching her.

He swore as he shoved a hand in his pocket. “Where is it?” he muttered to himself.

“We should keep moving,” she urged.

Kai continued patting his pockets, the look of dread growing stronger on his face. “Where is the goddamn key?”

Joori looked down to her hands as she realized what Kai couldn’t find. Great, how was she supposed to get out of these cuffs now?

Suddenly, her world turned upside down, literally. She fought the cry of surprise as she was lifted onto Kai’s shoulder, and he continued running up the mountain as if she weighed nothing.

The blood must have been rushing to her head because she had an irrational thought that he was so hot to manhandled her like that.

Ignoring her inappropriate thoughts, Joori pressed a finger to her ear. “Hello, anybody there?”

Jongin was the first to answer. “Joori?”

“Are you guys almost at the escarpment?”

“We’re close.”

Joori tried to keep her voice steady as she spoke. “If you guys see a black helicopter, please be careful. I think we have trouble in there.”

“Affirmative. We’ll take care of them.”

She was thankful for Jongin’s sure voice. Her team always seemed to know what to do.

In what seemed like a quarter of an hour later, Kai set Joori to the ground. He was panting hard.

“I spoke with my team and—”

“I heard.” Kai nodded sternly and put his hands on his hips as he panted, scouting around the area.

She rubbed her wrists, looking around too. They weren’t at the escarpment, but they were close.

Kai surprised her by crouching down in front of her. “Thank you,” he said, pulling a granola bar from one of his many pockets.

“Where did you get that?”

He gave her a cheeky smile. “I told you I have a stash.” He handed put the granola bar in her hands. “I know it’s not much but thank you for contacting your teammates. And I’m sorry...for everything.”

Joori didn’t say it was okay, because they both knew it wasn’t—holding somebody hostage wasn’t something that was forgivable. But because Joori understood why he did it, she reached into her own pocket and pulled out the handkerchief with the embroidered K.

She leaned forward and dabbed the shine on his forehead.

Kai let out a breath and bowed his head, allowing Joori to slowly trail the handkerchief down to his neck. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, not even when he leaned his cheek into her bound hands. There was only silence as she tended to him, and then the world exploded around them.

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Thank you guys for reading! I love making the male character feel horrible about himself and his actions :’‘‘‘‘‘) SUFFER!!!!

Have a great week~

#exo #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #kai #kai scenario #kai fanfiction #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #tag team #jongin

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eleanor-writes-stuff · 6 years

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Ben catches feelings and decides to take things to the next level with his long-time roommate, close friend, and occasional hook-up. Rey, ever the more sensible half of the duo, decides that they should make sure a relationship between them won’t be a total disaster first.

What they need is a trial run.

Featuring: awkward run-ins with a family member, even more awkward holidays with the whole family, and fluff. So much fluff. All the fluff.

It’s Christmas! In the penultimate chapter of REYLO FLUFF FAMILY FLUFF ALL THE FLUFF: Leia ambushes Rey with questions! Han and Ben nearly ruin Christmas lunch! AND BABY PICTURES, SO MANY BABY BEN PICTURES.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V Also available on AO3.

On Christmas morning, Rey hesitantly ventures down the stairs on her own after a good half hour spent trying to get Ben to keep his eyes open for more than two minutes at a time.

She finds Leia alone in the kitchen, staring out the windows at the far end of the room as she sips on her coffee. It’s just past eight, and it is Christmas morning, but somehow she’s still jarred by the sight of the famed Senator in her pajamas with no make-up and her hair pulled into a single braid.

“Merry Christmas,” Rey says quietly, to keep from shocking the older woman with her presence. To her relief, Leia doesn’t jump or tense; she turns around slowly, a smile blooming on her face as she spots Rey by the doorway.

“Rey,” Leia waves for her to come in. “Merry Christmas. I take it my son is still dead to the waking world?” She turns slightly to her left, and that’s when Rey notices a tray bearing a pot of coffee, five mugs, and a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream.

Leia follows her eyes and offers her a shrug. “Hey, it’s Christmas. If that’s not an excuse to drink in the morning, I don’t know what is. Besides, this barely counts.”

“Oh, no, that’s not… honestly, I think I’ll join you,” Rey tells her, taking a seat opposite Leia. If lunch is going to be anything like the night before, she might as well get a head-start on mellowing out. “And yes, Ben’s still asleep. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him anytime soon.”

“That’s fine with me,” Leia says, sliding her a cup of coffee. “I’ve been wanting to spend some time with you anyway, and God knows there’s no way Ben will let that happen while he’s conscious.”

She’s known Leia for two years now, idolized her for basically half her life, and on top of that her grandfather had always spoken highly and warmly of the woman in front of her. All of that means that while Rey should not fear a quick chat with Ben’s mother, she knows better than to let her guard down around the Senator.

“Oh,” she murmurs, buying herself some time by trying the coffee. It’s warm and sweet, much milder than Poe’s version of Irish coffee which is really just equal parts black coffee and the cheapest whiskey they have on hand. “This is good,” Rey comments, and it’s not even entirely a bid to distract Leia from the coming interrogation.

“Tell that to Han,” Leia snorts. “He takes one look at the stuff and just pours his precious Corellian whiskey into his mug instead.”

“Ben seems equally fond of it,” Rey says unthinkingly, prompted by the memory of a bottle hidden away on the highest shelf in their kitchen.

Leia takes the opening and runs with it, her eyes the tiniest bit narrowed as she leans closer. “So, how long have you two been seeing each other? You don’t have to tell me, of course, but I like to think I would have noticed the difference in him during Thanksgiving if you were already together by then.”

“Difference?”

“He’s… softer, this time. Happier, I think, though I wouldn’t know,” Leia’s voice lowers, and she seems to age right in front of Rey’s eyes as her shoulders slump. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ben happy, not as an adult. It’s gotten better in the last two years, of course, but he was only… content, never really happy.”

Rey thinks of the man she’d first gotten to know when Poe introduced them to his childhood friend, of the quiet, broody new roommate she hadn’t quite gotten along with, of the fact that he apparently used to have nightmares when he first moved in. He’s certainly come a long way since then, but Rey thinks she sees what Leia means.

After all, she’s noticed a similar change in herself this week. That’s not to say that she hadn’t been happy before, or that she’d been miserable until this past week – she’d been content, just like Ben. But now there’s… this feeling of things being right, of that last puzzle piece finally falling into place, of her life being complete.

“But then he shows up for Christmas for the first time in years, and he brings you along, and everything’s just… different, this time,” Leia continues. “I think this is what happiness looks like on my son, and there’s no way I could have missed it when I visited for Thanksgiving, which means this has only been going on for a month, at most. But you two are too comfortable around each other for that,” she mutters, almost as if to herself.

Leia gets the exact same crease in her forehead that Ben does when he furrows his brows, when he’s puzzled or worried or uncertain. Rey wonders if that’s why she gives in, an instinctive response to seeing that familiar look of concern and needing to do something about it.

“It’s been less than a week, actually,” she quietly reveals, focusing on her mug while she tries to come up with an appropriate version of events for Leia. Finally, she settles on, “We’ve been seeing each other casually for a while, and this Saturday Ben suggested that we make it more… permanent.” That’s more or less accurate, isn’t it? “So it’s only been a week,” Rey looks up and meets Leia’s curious eyes, “but at the same time I guess it’s been longer than that.”

She resists the urge to look away or blush or fidget under the weight of Leia’s scrutinizing gaze, and when the other woman finally speaks it’s almost a relief.

Almost.

“Okay, so what you’re saying is… you might have slept with my son before this, but you definitely weren’t together before Thanksgiving, right?”

Rey nearly falls off her chair. “I– no, that’s not– we didn’t–”

Leia dismisses her sputtering and flailing and blushing with a casual wave. “Honestly, Rey, I don’t give a shit about that. Han and I had Ben within a year of getting together, do you really think I’m here to judge you for living in sin with my son?”

“That’s not–”

“Besides, you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. If anyone can understand what you went through, it’s me. Solo men are fun to mess around with,” Leia smirks, she actually smirks, and Rey wishes she’d just stayed in bed and avoided this conversation altogether, “but God is it exhausting to actually be in a relationship with them. I don’t blame you for wanting all the fun and none of the messy parts. Hell, if that had been an option with Han I would’ve gone for it.”

“I… um…” Rey takes a gulp of coffee while she tries to figure out an appropriate response to that. By the time her mug is empty, she’s still speechless.

“Seriously, Rey, forget all of that,” Leia reaches for her cup and pours her a refill. “All I want to know is, did you and Ben properly get together before or after Thanksgiving?”

“Um, after,” she says, taking the cup from Leia. “Just this past Saturday, like I told you.”

Leia’s whole face lights up in delight. “Ha! I knew it!” she exclaims triumphantly, nearly causing Rey to choke on her coffee. But it’s nothing compared to what she says next, her voice smug as can be:

“Luke and Han owe me five hundred dollars.”

Lunch is a small affair compared to the party from the night before, just the four members of the Organa-Solo-Skywalker family along with Chewie, Maz, and Rey.

Leia sits at the head of the table with Han on her left and Luke on her right; Ben sits at the very end of the right side, as far away from his father as possible. Rey sits between him and Luke while Maz takes the seat right across the table, with Chewie between her and Han.

For the first twenty minutes, the clearly planned seating arrangement seems to be working just fine. Maz keeps up a steady stream of conversation with Rey and Ben while the others engage Han in mostly one-sided conversation, and Rey can’t see anything going wrong as long as everyone plays their parts.

And then–

“So, Ben, do you know what you want to do yet?” Maz asks just as there’s a lull in conversation on the other end of the table, and in the sudden silence Han’s quiet snort is deafening.

“Han,” Leia warns him quietly just as Rey places a hand on Ben’s thigh and wills him to stay calm. There’s a moment when he almost looks like he’s about to say something, but he backs down when she murmurs his name and takes her hand in his own instead.

Ben laces their fingers together and turns back to Maz, and the table seems to breathe a silent sigh of relief until–

“What, are we going to pretend the kid can be trusted to make his own choices?” Han grumbles at Leia. “Last time we let him do that, he nearly murdered me.”

Leia is full-on glaring at her husband, and even Luke looks the slightest bit disappointed and weary as he stares Han down. Chewie remains silent, and so it’s left to Maz to try and defuse the tension.

“Han Solo,” she chides, shaking her head at him. “You and your exaggerations. Reminds me of that time you filled my staff’s head with tall tales about–”

“Not now, Maz,” Han cuts her short, finally turning his attention to Ben. “I’d rather hear what the kid’s got up his sleeve this time.”

Rey squeezes Ben’s hand in desperation, turns her body towards him and wishes she were big enough to block the rest of the table out, even briefly considers abruptly pulling him away from the table and leading him back upstairs to cool off.

“I’m not a kid,” Ben growls, and Rey thinks she hears Leia mutter a very quiet well, fuck under her breath.

“Fine, we’ll stop treating you like one then,” Han fires back. “Two years I’ve been pretending that everything’s fine, because your mother told me you’re not ready to talk about it. And now suddenly here you are and we’re supposed to pretend you didn’t try to run me over with your fucking car just because that old creep told you to?”

Ben is shaking with the force of his anger, and there’s nothing she can do to steady him. “I didn’t–” Rey squeezes his hand again and he stops, breathes, lowers his voice. “I didn’t try to run you down. Snoke wanted me to, but I didn’t do it.”

“But you almost did, didn’t you? You followed every single order that piece of shit gave you like his goddamn lapdog,” Han snarls. “You nearly ruined your mother’s career because you were too busy being a blind, stubborn rebel!”

“You would know all about ruining Mom’s career, wouldn’t you, Han Solo the smuggler, the outlaw, the–”

“You goddamn–”

“That’s enough!” Leia snaps, her chair scraping against the floor as she stands. “I will not let that man come between our family again, and you two are idiots if you do. Ben,” she turns to her son with an almost apologetic look. “I know you’ve changed and I know you’re trying to move on and forget all about that, but at some point you’re going to have to at least apologize to your father. I’d ask you two to talk things through, but I stopped believing in miracles a long time ago,” she adds wryly.

“And you!” She turns to Han and slaps his arm, an actual hit if the way her husband flinches is anything to go by. “We’ve discussed this! You know what drove him away the first time, are you really going to make the same mistake twice?”

Han’s eyes flit to Ben before he points his eyes heavenward and crosses his arms. “Fine,” he huffs, taking his own sweet time before he turns to his son. “Sorry I brought this up,” Han mumbles, as though that’s the heart of the matter, as though that solves anything.

At least Ben is gracious enough to let it slide for now. “Sorry I thought about killing you,” he offers in return, and Rey thinks she could live for a hundred years and still not understand Solo men because father and son catch each other’s eye and after a moment, they start laughing.

“S’okay, kid. Hell,” Han chuckles, his voice gruff. “I’d be surprised if there’s anyone at this table who hasn’t thought of killing me.”

Ben turns to Rey, his laughter fading into an amused smile, and the rest of the table follows suit. “I don’t think you’ve given Rey here any reason to hate you… yet.”

“Give it some time,” Chewie suddenly speaks up. “He always finds a way to piss everyone off.”

“What the hell, Chewie?” Han demands with a scowl at his oldest friend, to which Chewie merely shrugs.

Luke launches into a story about that one time he actually came really close to physically strangling Han for one mishap or another, and under the table Ben keeps their hands together.

“You okay?” Rey asks quietly while everyone else is laughing at Luke’s story.

Ben smiles and presses a quick kiss to her hair. “As long as I’ve got you.”

After lunch, Rey is almost scared to leave Ben alone while she helps Leia with the dishes.

“It’ll be fine,” Leia assures her when she picks up on Rey’s reluctance. “Han and Chewie always spend at least an hour in the backyard, drinking and talking and God knows what.”

“Besides,” Luke chimes in, the third member of the clean-up party. “Maz wants to talk to him. That’s the only reason we’re not making him do this too,” he reveals.

“Well, if you think he’ll be okay…” Rey says slowly, watching Ben look away from Maz for just a second to shoot her a smile.

“Okay, look,” Leia reaches out and pulls Rey into the kitchen, her voice the slightest bit impatient. “Do you or do you not want us to show you embarrassing childhood pictures? Because Maz can only keep him distracted for so long.”

Rey blinks, and then a slow smile spreads across her face. “Well, in that case…”

She and Luke get started on rinsing the dishes and loading them in the dishwasher while Leia retrieves the photo albums she’d hidden in the kitchen earlier today for this exact purpose. “It’s the first time he’s ever brought a girl home,” Leia explains when she catches Rey watching her. “This is my only chance to do all the embarrassing mom things a mother is supposed to do when her son starts dating.” She finally pulls out the last of the albums, and Luke tells Rey to go ahead and get started while he finishes up with the dishes.

“We’ve got a lot of material and very little time,” Leia says, selecting the first of seven albums. “And no matter how badly you want to, do not laugh out loud. That’ll definitely make him suspicious.”

It’s all a lot of fuss over something that doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to her, but then Rey catches sight of the first baby Ben picture and knows she’ll do anything Leia says if that means seeing all of these.

The pictures are arranged in chronological order, and the first album is limited to Ben’s infancy. Ben, squishy and red and still not quite used to being in this world. Ben, slowly looking more like a tiny person who came from Leia and Han. Ben, with his familiar ears and eyes and curls. Ben, learning to smile and laugh and crawl.

“His first word was dada,” Leia whispers as the pictures slowly move to Ben’s second year of life, a soft smile on her face as she traces the outline of her tiny son stumbling towards his father on wobbly legs.

Luke puts one hand on his sister’s shoulder in a silent show of support, and Leia shakes the memory off and goes back to sharing all of young Ben’s mishaps. Rey watches him start to resemble the man she knows today, watches him start preschool and meet Poe (she snaps a few pictures on her phone for Finn) and build race car tracks with his father. She watches as Leia starts appearing less and less in the photos and something inside Ben breaks, too, but those observations she keeps to herself.

They’re just about to move on to Ben’s third year in elementary school when the man himself enters the kitchen, face drawn in suspicion as Leia immediately closes the album.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing,” Leia says easily, stacking the albums up and collecting the pile in her arms. “Just talking about how you and Rey should come visit more often–”

“Are those photo albums?” Ben lunges forward and snatches one from his mother before she can move out of the way. “What the fuck, Mom?” He demands upon flipping the album open to find a picture of his awkward seventh-grade self.

Leia shrugs. “Rey deserves to know every part of you,” she sniffs, setting the albums back down. “Besides, she thinks they’re adorable, don’t you, Rey?”

“You were the cutest baby ever,” Rey grins, reaching for the first album. “Look at you!” She flips to a random page and holds the album up to Ben, pointing at a picture of him laughing directly into the camera, all chubby cheeks and gummy smile. “I have literally never seen a baby this adorable.”

Ben’s ears start to flush, but it’s nothing compared to the matching blushes that tint their cheeks cherry red when Leia casually says, “Oh, just wait till you see your own. All parents think their babies are the cutest.”

Rey meets Ben’s eyes for just a second before she turns back to the album and pretends to be utterly engrossed in it, but it doesn’t help that the smiles in the pictures remind her of the soft, barely-there smile she’d glimpsed on his face in that split-second, doesn’t help that now she’s picturing a baby with his hair and her eyes.

“What is this I hear about babies?” Maz asks, finally wandering into the kitchen in search of Ben. “Leia Organa, you slow your horses. Rey is only twenty, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“What? I didn’t say anything–” Leia claims innocently, drawing a scoff from Maz and a quiet chuckle from Luke. “Okay, fine. Who wants to see more pictures of Ben?” She holds up another album.

Ben groans, his ears now thoroughly red as he steps forward and takes the album Rey was looking at. “If you guys are going to embarrass me, I’d like to at least be there to defend myself.”

That’s how they end up in the living room, all of them sitting on the floor while they pass albums around and Ben does his best to filter which photos actually get to Rey. There are less and less pictures as time goes by, to the point that nearly all of Ben’s teenage years are contained in one album, and he makes a point of quickly snatching that one up and sitting on it for the rest of the evening.

“Maybe next time,” he eventually tells a persistent Rey, and they both know it’s not lost on his family that he’s just implied there’ll be a next time. For once, though, the twins show some discretion and don’t comment on it, and Maz merely smiles approvingly at them.

When Han and Chewie finally join them, the pictures begin to come with more stories – all the blanks Leia stopped being able to fill in after Ben turned six, all the memories only Han was there to witness. Eventually the albums are forgotten as the evening turns into Luke, Leia, and Han reminiscing about the old days, with Chewie occasionally jumping in to correct Han here and there.

They end up having dinner right there in the living room, everyone balancing plates and cups on their laps while conversation flows. With her side pressed against Ben’s, Rey can’t help but notice how comfortable he is, how every part of him is as relaxed as can be, how freely he smiles and laughs and speaks.

At some point after dinner they find themselves squished into a too-small loveseat, Ben’s arm around her as she rests her head on his shoulder. Maz takes the armchair, Luke remains cross-legged on the carpet, and the other three take the couch. Someone suggests a movie, and then a while later there are cards and board games, and much later there are murmured conversations and warm drinks.

Rey burrows closer to Ben, smiles sleepily as she feels a laugh rumble in his chest at something his father said, and allows herself to drift off to sleep.

The next morning they leave right after breakfast, with Rey promising Leia she’ll definitely come back soon and Ben tentatively extending an offer for Han to call him if he’s ever in Coruscant.

As they drive past the We hope you come back to Alderaan soon! / Welcome to Takodana! sign, Ben turns to her with a smile.

“So, did we pass the ultimate relationship test?” he asks, his eyes flitting between her and the road as if it’s not that important of a question, his voice carefully casual as if the answer doesn’t mean everything to him.

But his eyes are nervous when they meet hers, and there’s the slightest hint of insecurity in his smile, and his voice carries an undertone of fear – because of course this means everything.

Her heart is warm with the memory of his arms around her and full with something she’s not sure she’s ready to name, but they have time now. Time for her to name those feelings, time for him to admit why this is so important, time for them to figure out their future together.

Rey smiles and reaches for his hand, waits for him to look at her before she declares, “I think we’re going to be just fine.”

This is a bit later than usual - sorry about that! Daily updates are really starting to take a toll on me, but that's okay because we've only got one chapter left anyway.

This was both a joy and a monster to write, and at 3700+ words it's the longest chapter this fic will ever get. There's so much I wanted to include in this that didn't end up making the cut, and so much that was never in the original draft but just came to me as I was writing. I hope the final version is one you'll all find satisfactory.

All that's left now is the weekend, I suppose. It's really more of an epilogue than a chapter, but we will be getting a more detailed explanation about Snoke and Ben's past, in case that was driving anyone crazy. We'll also have them sit down and tentatively discuss a long-term plan, because I'll be damned if I leave these two without setting them up for a long and happy life together first.

As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting. You guys have really been the driving force behind my output this week, and it's been such a joy to write for you. Feel free to reach out if you’ve got any thoughts/comments/reactions you’d like to share.

#reylo #ben solo x rey #ben x rey #kylo ren x rey #kylo x rey #modern au #star wars #rey #ben solo #kylo ren #fic: sign up now for a free trial #my fics

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silverfootstepswrites · 7 years

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title Up summary Wishful thinking gets you nowhere. pairing Itasaku, Tobisaku rating hide the children

If there was anything she wished she had known before this life, it was to get used to strange ceilings. Sakura couldn’t even begin to count the number of times she had squinted up, not recognizing the water stains.

But this time, as her eyes opened, she recognized the crystal chandelier. The eggshell ceilings. She remembered specifying to the designer that she hadn’t wanted white. The walls of her mother’s apartment had been painted too white. It was probably to make the run-down place look cleaner somehow. But the harsh color seemed to repel life. Repel them.

As she blinked, she saw a wisp of smoke rise up toward that not-white ceiling.

“...wei...” she said. There was a pause. And then she heard a sigh.

“Shit. I forgot.”

The mattress dipped. She heard him roll out of bed. The door to the balcony opened. Cool air gusted in for a second before the door closed. Sakura sat up in time to see a very naked Tobirama puffing on his cigarette outside. He sucked in a few breaths before he flicked the lit cigarette over the edge of the balcony. Down onto the city below.

Their eyes met when he slipped back into the room. He waved the rest of the smoky air out behind him as he shut the door.

“I forgot,” Tobirama said again, “My bad.”

Sakura rubbed the heel of her hand against her temple.

“Diu,” she cursed. And then she looked toward the window again. The waters of Victoria Harbor were black, same as the sky. “Did I sleep at all?”

“Maybe half an hour. Thought I’d finally screwed you unconscious like I promised,” he sighed, almost sounding wistful. Sakura laughed, rolling onto her stomach. She liked this side of him- a little arrogant, just a little crass.

“Dumbass,” she muttered under her breath. She reached for her phone on the nightstand. There were a few missed calls. A text from Tenten letting her know that the night market was okay. Which made her remember something.

“I hear you had some run-ins with the Red Arrows. Something about them smuggling girls out Causeway Bay,” Sakura commented. Tobirama snorted. The mattress shifted when he sat down.

“It was some brats. Blue lanterns that aren’t even technically part of his crew. I had my boys teach them a lesson but it’s nothing to kill over,” he replied.

“I bet he did it on purpose. Kabuto’s been pissy ever since Hashirama gave you Happy Valley when we took it from the Suns,” she sighed. She looked at him again. He was sitting up against the headboard, arms crossed behind his neck. He had the same tattoo of Guan Yu as his older brother- only it was on the opposite arm. The ancient general glowered his judgment on her so she turned back to her phone.

Inuzuka-kai wants 15 keys a week. Should I cut a deal? Charlie texted her.

“Technically, Happy Valley is run by the city as part of Wan Chai. And since Wan Chai is mine...” Tobirama trailed off, his self-satisfaction obvious. Sakura rolled her eyes.

Fuck them, she typed back. Let them know that the Hyuuga’s would be happy to pay double for that.

Said deal as soon as I said Hyuuga. Thanks, boss, Charlie messaged back.

“Sure. Why don’t you run for city council while you’re at it?” she scoffed. He moved. She felt his weight settle half on her back. She immediately tossed her phone aside before he could read over her shoulder.

“Relax. How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not trying to spy on you?” he chuckled against her shoulder blade. He kissed it once. Moving up to kiss the back of her neck. She swatted him aside.

“I’ll believe you when you’re dead and your ghost confesses the same thing to me,” Sakura sniffed. Still, she didn’t resist when he rolled her onto her back. His hands rested on either side of her head. His shadow loomed over her.

“Look, Kennedy town is Kabuto’s, Central is yours, Wan Chai is mine-”

“You know. I helped you take parts of Wan Chai,” Sakura interrupted, her eyes narrowing. She reached up, caressed the side of his face. Tobirama caught her hand, holding it tighter against his cheek.

“And who supplied the guns you needed to take the Mid-Levels? Don’t forget that,” he said in the same, silken voice. She smirked. She pulled her hand from his grasp.

“Oh, I thought I’d already showed my thanks.” Her hand slipped lower. A short hiss escaped through his teeth as she squeezed.

“But I don’t mind doing it again,” she added. She laughed as his full weight fell on top of her. Her hands linking behind his neck. And the laugh turned to a gasp when his teeth sank into her neck.

It was only later, hair even messier, that he got around to asking his question. They had known each other for long enough. She could tell when he was trying to get at something.

“So tell me about your new man,” said Tobirama,

Sakura twisted her head around to look at him. The tattoo of the serpent on his left forearm had always bothered her. It glared like it was hiding something. She nudged it with her foot until Tobirama turned to look at her too.

“You got any more smokes?” she asked. Tobirama just stared. She jerked her head toward the window.

They sat on opposite ends of the balcony, facing each other. Sakura hunched her shoulders against the chill. She leaned forward, her eyes already asking. Sighing, Tobirama met her halfway, lighting her cigarette with the end of his.

“You know, your lighter works just fine. Why do you always do that?” he asked, sounding more annoyed than he actually was. He leaned back, exhaling a stream of smoke. Sakura leaned forward, elbow on her knee. Her nipples tightened in the cool breeze.

“It’s kind of sexy, don’t you think?” she replied, grinning around her cigarette. She shivered again. The wind tousled her hair.

“Put on some clothes if you’re cold,” nagged Tobirama. She shook her head. She pulled her cigarette from her mouth, pinching it between her pointer and middle fingers.

“I like it. Besides, you’re not wearing anything either,” she said, gesturing toward him with the cigarette. He flexed the muscles in his chest and stomach when he saw her looking. Sakura rolled her eyes, pretending not to smile.

“Big, tough man,” she snorted.

“Are you done avoiding my question now?” questioned Tobirama. Sakura lifted her cigarette. When she exhaled, she let it leave her mouth in a cloud. Smoke engulfed her face for just a second until the wind stole it away. She rested her forearm on her knee.

“I don’t have a new man. I just saw the waka-gashira of the Uchiha-gumi when he stopped by my shop. Only now he’s the Kumicho,” Sakura finally admitted. She smiled around her cigarette. “The head honcho. The big man.” But Tobirama was unsmiling as he listened. He lifted his cigarette to his lips, turning his head away from her to look out at the water.

“You always had a thing for high-ranking men,” he remarked.

“Who?” Sakura said, voice innocent. Tobirama turned his head back to stare at her.

“My brother. Me. Now this kid,” he listed.

Sakura tilted her head. “He’s probably a little older than me. Then am I a kid too?”

Tobirama made a face. “Don’t remind me.”

And then it was Sakura’s turn to frown.

“Also I never slept with your brother. I don’t do that shit anymore,” she said. Her tone drew his attention again. He studied her. His eyes were sharp, like his brother. But he was sharp in a different way. Like he was reading some invisible words written across her forehead.

“You never even considered it?” he questioned, like he was afraid of the answer. Shaking her head, Sakura thought back.

“Hashirama needed my skills and I needed to be needed. Sex had nothing to do with it... although I might have said yes if he asked,” Sakura responded. Tobirama glared at her for a moment longer. And then, heaving a sigh, he snubbed his cigarette out on the edge of the balcony.

“Look at us two lonely losers,” he lamented.

“I’m lonely. You’re just an idiot,” she corrected, smiling. She looked out at Victoria Bay with him. At the blinking lights of the city that continued to live and breathe with or without them.

“Hurry up and find a nice girl, Tobirama. A man like you shouldn’t be alone,” Sakura urged. Tobirama closed his eyes.

“Fuck you, Sakura.”

“You already do, Tobirama.”

They laughed together, leaning towards each other. Their foreheads almost touching. Sharing that one incredibly intimate space. Like she was Hong Kong island and he was Kowloon. Within sight, but an alien city looming in the distance.

When she left for Japan in the morning, he didn’t wake to say goodbye.

Tenten came to pick her up, packed suitcases already in the trunk. As Zabuza drove them to the airport, Sakura stared up at the grey skies. She was grateful that Tenten didn’t bother her with small talk in the car or on the plane.

Her apartment in Minato had a view of the Rainbow Bridge. She didn’t remember how much Uncle Hashirama had paid for it. The big figures didn’t really faze her anymore. All she knew was that it had heated floors and the doorman never asked questions. That was enough to keep her happy.

The city of Tokyo certainly had a different feel from Hong Kong. Everything in Tokyo was too clean. Immaculate subway lines and sparkling buildings. If Hong Kong was eggshell, then Tokyo was the purest white.

She napped on the tatami floors. Finally able to bask in the absolute silence that came with being alone. Chin tucked into her chest, she let the living hum of the city buzz under her cheek. News playing low on the TV. The blue glow outlined her as she slept.

She was glad when evening rolled around and she finally had an excuse to leave her apartment. She entered the club through the back door. Sai was already sweeping and moving boxes of liquor up from storage.

“Ah, welcome back, Mama. How was your trip?” he greeted her, pausing in the doorway to the basement. Sakura smiled.

“Same old. Nothing interesting,” she answered. And then she looked around the club. The girls wouldn’t start arriving for a couple more hours. Some of them even arrived with customers on their arms, which always made the club look busy.

“I’m going upstairs. Drop in before it gets too crazy. I’ve got to catch you up on some things,” was all she said before she headed upstairs. She unlocked her office door and slipped inside. She snapped the lock shut behind her.

Her office was eggshell- just the way she liked it. The left side of the room was made of glass. It looked out on the streets of Ginza below. The flickering neon signs were already lighting up. Their brazen pinks and purples blinking in unsynchronized patterns. She was thankful that she had followed Tenten’s advice and gotten the tinted glass. It prevented her office from lighting up like a disco ball. And when even that light got annoying, she had blackout curtains to drown it all out.

There were two black sofas facing the windows. On one of them sat Tommy Wong. He twisted his neck to look back at her.

“Wai, Mama,” he greeted her. And then he pointed toward her desk.

“Pick one. It’s a gift for you.”

“Stop breaking into my office. One day I’ll be in a bad mood and I might shoot you,” Sakura warned, voice flat. He shrugged.

“You said to use the key during emergencies. Every day I don’t see you feels like an emergency,” he quipped. Sakura grimaced. Throwing his head back, he laughed.

“The rumors are true. You really do hate smooth-talkers. Okay. Relax, Aunt Cheng. Seriously, go look.”

There were three sets of car keys lined up across the tabletop. She stared at them, eyes narrowing.

“Where did you get these from? I’m not driving around some Yakuza’s stolen car and getting shot for it,” she began to scold. He wagged his finger from side to side.

“No way. Remember a couple years ago when we set up that chop shop near Aberdeen?” he reminded her. Sakura nodded. She remembered how she had lent quite a few of her best men for that. It was a little too close to their territory for the Suns and their boys had gotten into several scuffles until she had cut a deal with the Red Pole in charge.

“Been sending parts out to my buddy in Germany. He sent these over for us as thanks,” he explained. And then he looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

“Actually, you can have all three if you want, Mama. I can always get more,” he amended. Snorting, Sakura grabbed the keys and tossed them back to him He caught two out of the air. The other set he just barely missed. He stooped to pick it up.

“I don’t know what I’d do with three either,” she responded.

“Sell them. Go talk to Tobirama. I’m sure he knows some new money who’s looking to splurge. I’ll let you keep most of the profit. Just give me 20%,” she instructed. She moved behind her desk, sank into her chair.

“Is that all, Tommy?” she then asked. He got to his feet, stretching his arms above his head.

“S’all for now. Just wanted to brighten your day.... night. Whatever. I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he announced, heading to the door.

“Why don’t you stay for a drink? Moegi’s working tonight,” she called after him. He paused in the doorway. Like he wanted to say yes. And when he turned to her, it was with a cheeky grin and empty eyes.

“Nah. Always keep the ladies wanting more. Right, Auntie?”

It was business as usual for a while. The calm was a little disconcerting, to be honest. Although, calm was a relative term. In comparison to her beginning days in Tokyo, things were calm, perhaps.

“Huh... you think it’s gotten boring around here?” Sakura suddenly asked, looking over at Tenten. The woman gaped at her. And then stared pointedly at the man writhing on the ground. Cusses and spittle flew from his mouth. His dislocated arms jerked around like two flopping fish. The noise irritated Sakura enough that she grabbed her gun and unloaded two bullets into his skull. The silencer didn’t really silence the noise. Just sort of muffled the sharpness of it so it didn’t echo as far.

She looked back at Tenten, still waiting for an answer.

“Boss, you just shot a guy in the eye. How can you say this is boring?” Tenten demanded. Sakura took a closer look.

“Oh. Didn’t even realize,” she replied, voice flat.

Sakura wiped her gun clean with the end of her coat.

“Clean this up. I’m going for a walk,” she ordered.

Before her underlings could reply, she brushed past them. Down the narrow alley. There weren’t even rats or garbage to kick aside. That was how sterile this city was.

When she emerged on the main street, she melded into the crowd. The smells of alcohol and fried food assaulted her senses. Music pounded out from clubs. Guys and girls stood outside with their flyers, harassing people to come inside. The stink of sweat, cologne, and perfume brewed together to form the fragrance of the city. In her youth, she had called all this glamour. Now she knew a better word for it all.

“Shit.”

She glanced around. This wasn’t territory that she was unfamiliar with. So many signs had changed as businesses went under and new ones were born to take their places. But she did catch the flickering blue sign for a place that she knew. With one last glance over her shoulder, she ducked into the alley and walked down the stone steps into the bar.

“Welco- ah. You’re not dead yet?”

“Pinot Noir,” she said, not looking at him. She pulled off her coat, tossing it onto an empty barstool. And then she climbed into the one beside it. Elbows up on the bar, she let out a deep sigh.

“Good to see you too. How’ve you been? Wow, your conversation skills are great as always, Sakura-san,” the bartender said, dryly as he placed the wine in front of her.

“Sik si la lei,” she snorted in return as she took the glass. She took a sip, finally looking him in the face. Kankuro put his hand on his chest.

“Chill out, daai lou. You know I don’t speak Cantonese,” he said.

“I said, eat shit, Kankuro,” Sakura translated for him. Kankuro nodded, pretending to take notes on his palm. Even her prickliest attitude never seemed to faze him.

And then he noticed that the bottom of her coat was dark and stained with something.

“Didn’t see rain in the forecast. Is that what I think it is?” he asked, expression wary. Sakura looked him dead in the face as she drank more wine.

“Why bother asking me if you already know the answer?” she said in return. He made a noise of disgust. Reaching under the bar, he found a bottle of air freshener and spritzed her coat. Sakura watched all of this with a faint smile. Like a little lemon scent would suddenly make everything better.

“I’d figure a bigshot like you wouldn’t have time to visit anymore. Is it a special occasion?” asked Kankuro, fanning the air with a folded up menu. Sakura shrugged, swirling her wine around in the glass.

“Just taking a breather,” was all she said. And then she pulled her box of cigarettes out of her coat pocket. Held it up for him to see.

Kankuro sighed. Tossing a towel over his shoulder, he gestured toward the mostly-empty bar.

“Like it’ll bother the other customers. Just let me know if you need anything. Take it easy,” he answered, moving further down the bar to chat with the other customers.

It was a quiet, little place. Clean and a little elegant. But not snobby enough to attract a crowd. The people that knew it liked it. And the people who didn’t never bothered to find out. It was a shitty business model and Sakura had wondered more than once just how they kept this place open.

Kankuro said nothing else to her that night. He stopped by once to refill her glass but that was it.

She lit up her cigarette. She waited for the paper to sizzle before she let the flame die. She rubbed her thumb along the dragon on the side of the lighter. It was begin to wear down, smoothing away at the edges.

The stool to her left scraped against the floor.

A man settled into his seat with a sigh. Sakura glared at him out of the corners of her eyes. There were plenty of open seats at this bar. She regretted wearing such a skimpy black dress- it always drew attention. But it couldn’t be helped. The second-in-command of the Sarutobi-gumi was a notorious womanizer. A little skin always did wonders to persuade him.

The meeting with him hadn’t gone perfectly, but he had been kind enough to point out a rat to her. The rat that was probably being dismantled by Sai as she sat here drinking her wine. She wondered if he would toss the pieces into the ocean. Or would he dump the corpse in Kennedy Town as a warning to Kabuto? His creativity always impressed her.

“Say, onee-chan, have you got a smoke?”

That voice.

Puckering her lips around her cigarette, she turned to look. Uchiha Itachi looked back at her, his cheek in his hand. His eyelashes were lovely and long as he blinked. She blew her smoke out at him just to watch him blink again. Holding her cigarette between her pointer and middle, she smiled.

“Hou ma, daai lou,” she replied.

“Oh, I know that one. That’s hello, right?” Itachi guessed. When she didn’t respond, he pulled a cigarette out of his coat. He put it in his mouth with a pointed look at her lighter sitting on the bar. She leaned in instead, pressing the tip of her cigarette to his. Eyes locking as the paper glowed red. Straightening, she leaned her elbow on the bar.

“The boss of the Uchiha-gumi stopping in for a casual drink?” she asked. She reached for her glass. Spinning it on the bar until she found her lipstick stains. Itachi watched her fingers.

“You’re in Uchiha territory, Sakura. How long did you think it would take for me to notice you?” As he spoke, his eyes traveled up to her face.

“What makes you think I wanted you to notice me, daai lou? That’s pretty arrogant of you,” she teased. And then she lifted her glass to take a sip. Her eyes never leaving his. She saw his lips quirk downwards.

“I wanted to ask why people reported hearing a gunshot not too far from here.” His voice was suddenly all business. It soured the mood. Sakura clicked her tongue, leaning back.

“Who knows?"

“Does it have anything to do with reports of your meetings with the Inuzuka-kai?” he pressed.

Sakura sighed.

“Look, since you’re cute, I’ll give you two pieces of advice.” She dunked her cigarette into her wine, listening to it fizzle and die.

“The first is to stop looking at the Inuzuka-kai all the time. If I were you, I’d be keeping an eye on the Yamanaka-kai. My boys tell me that they’ve been buying up big stocks. I don’t know how you yakuza run things, but my boys at least tell me whenever they move money that big,”

She watched Itachi’s forehead wrinkle. He looked down at the backs of his hands, as if they somehow held all the answers.

“Yamanaka Inoichi and I exchanged sake cups. We’re sworn brothers,” he stated as if she wouldn’t know that already.

“Itachi, I’ve seen mothers sell their own children and sons kill their own fathers. This world is fucked up. Don’t put your faith in absolutes,” she replied. Itachi lifted his chin, meeting her eyes again.

“What’s your second piece of advice?” he demanded.

She lifted her hand to her chin. A coy smile spread across her mouth.

“There’s a reason why the smaller, rattier Inuzuka-kai is still surviving after all this time. Think of who their friends are. And when you have the right questions, come find me again.” When she had finished speaking, she leaned forward. Itachi was very still as she kissed just above his left eyebrow. She left an obscenely large amount of money on the bar.

“Kankuro, when you get a chance, burn that for me,” Sakura called out, pointing at her coat crumpled up on the stool.

“Aw, come on! Not again!” griped the bartender, throwing his hands up in the air.

“You’re a peach,” she said, pretending not to hear his complaints. And then, turning back to Itachi, she smiled.

“Bye-bye, handsome.”

She walked back into the cold. Brazen, shoulders bare. Lingering on the sight of Itachi’s face. She liked that look of surprise on that normally stoic man. Liked how she could shift those expressions with a word or two.

She had barely made it a block when a black car pulled up beside her. Driving so obscenely slow. The back window rolled down and Sai peered out. His face was still flecked with red. Even the collar of his grey shirt was stained dark- almost black in the wettest spots.

“You finished early?” she asked, still walking. The car rolled along with her.

“Of course, Aunt.”

Sakura stopped. And the car jerked to a stop too. The door opened.

“Look into all the executives of the Uchiha-gumi. I’m getting a bad feeling,” she ordered as she ducked into the car.

“Of course, Aunt.”

#writing #eastern suns #itasaku #tobisaku #wtf is wrong with me #but no ragrets #i srsly need to pace myself #but i can't stop #triad!sakura x yakuza!itachi #triad!au

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