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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

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Honeymoon Fades (A CS Fic)

CS oneshot that provides a snippet into their married life after 30 years together. Includes fluff, feels, and cuteness. Short, sweet, and the perfect weekend treat. Find on FF here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! This is a short drabble based on the song ‘Honeymon Fades’ by Sabrina Carpenter. This story picks up on Emma and Killian when they’re children are all grown and they’ve been together nearly 30 years. Spoiler alert – the cuteness perseveres after all their years together, and in some ways they’re like honeymooners, still as in love and happy as they were just post-wedding. Hope you enjoy the cuteness and thanks so much for reading!

The silence in this house was still a foreign thing to Emma. After so many years of raising her family, and decades of craziness that she wouldn’t trade for anything, quiet moments still felt like a real commodity. They used to be so few and far between, and every time they found them, she and Killian made use of them. They lived a life of constant motion, and they were always go-go-go, but it kept things fresh and interesting. They were never lacking for love and excitement around here, at least they never used to be.

Now, however, things were different. Take this morning for example. It was 9:00 and she was only just rolling out of bed. She was off today from the station, where she was beginning to take a number of steps back. Her brother Neal had been working with her and her Dad for years, deciding he wanted to join the family business, and he was now the newly elected town sheriff. Emma still worked at the station and ran point on many aspects of Storybrooke’s response team, but even with that, there was never enough to do. She ‘worked’ from 9-5 Monday to Friday, mostly just conferring with the townspeople on what needs they had and what the town could do for them. And then the weekends she had off, totally free, never any hiccups. Just two whole days of… well, whatever the hell she wanted.

Despite the fact that this free-weekend thing was normal (it had been about a year since she agreed to the schedule shift), she was still awed by the premise. When the kids were still home, nearly every moment that she wasn’t working was dedicated to them, to their games, and plays and homework and lives. But now their nest was empty. The kids all had their own worlds and agendas, and weekends were becoming a time when Emma and Killian could genuinely relax.

This morning was the perfect example. After waking up bright and early in her husband’s arms, and after their heated exchange of what Killian always called ‘good morning pleasantries’ (code for sex that had no right to be that hot after how long they’d been together), Emma had fallen back asleep while Killian rested only briefly before heading out to go for a sail or run some errand or another. No matter how much quiet they had, her husband was still an early riser. No amount of downtime would change that. But for Emma a lazy morning was a luxury, one that she soaked in and cherished after years of never having them.

As she showered and got dressed, Emma found herself smiling, knowing that she was a lucky woman in every possible way. She was blessed with healthy kids, a network of supportive friends and family, and a true love who was always in her corner. The sun was shining in Storybrooke, and the summer heat was already beginning to climb. She had a whole host of possible paths to wander today. She could go for a hike, or tend to the garden out back. She could drive up the coast and explore the world beyond, or she could take it easy and relax, luxuriating in this happy, stress-free moment that they currently had going. But whatever she did, Emma knew she’d have company for the ride.

Moving downstairs Emma caught the scent of bacon and coffee in the air, she closed her eyes and hummed out a sound of contentment. Spoiled – that was what she was, and as she walked into the kitchen and saw Killian flipping some blueberry pancakes she leaned against the doorway and bit her lip. Damn, nearly thirty years together, and he was still too hot to handle. Standing there, making her breakfast with that mix of salt and pepper in his hair, her pirate was still fit and ready for whatever fight might come their way. There were more laugh lines etched upon his skin, and he might move just a touch slower than he did back in the early days, but the light in his blue eyes that sparked when he caught sight of her still pierced down to her soul, and the sexy grin of his made her heart skip a beat.

“Finally, the lady wakens,” he joked and Emma shook her head and smiled as she kissed him quickly and then moved around him to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“Sounds like someone missed me.”

“You know how I feel about being away from you, Swan.” The growl in his voice sent a thrill of anticipation down her spine. Damn this man and his sexiness. Thirty years wasn’t enough to get used to him, and some days she still felt like a honeymooner as opposed to a couple long settled and established.

“You’re not a fan as I recall,” she teased and she let out a yelp when he swatted at her ass with the hard metal of his hook. She blushed in spite of herself, thinking of all the times that particular appendage had made itself known before. She could tell from his deep chuckle that he read her like a book, and she cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Any thoughts on what we should do today, Captain?”

“Whatever my wife wishes, I reckon,” he quipped as he placed their plates on the kitchen counter and he held out her chair, tucking her in like a true gentleman before taking his own seat. They discussed the possibilities as they ate, and he caught her up on some friendly neighborhood gossip that he’d heard down at the market, but when their meal was done and they moved to clear the dishes, Emma noticed a little sadness in Killian’s eyes. Immediately she knew the reason for it.

“You miss the kids, don’t you?”

“Aye, love. How could you tell?”

Emma didn’t have the heart to tell her pirate that his expression was totally transparent. Instead she came to cuddle with him, her arms encircling him as he did the same. This was her favorite spot, tucked in her with her true love. It was always her safest space and the place she felt like things would always be okay. Now though it was Killian who needed that anchor, and she was more than willing to give it to him.

“Because I miss them too,” Emma confessed, knowing it was silly. She saw all of her children nearly every day, and they were all in constant contact. Still it wasn’t the same, and time, as beautiful a gift as it was, was also all too fleeting. Years moved by so quickly, and some days it felt like she blinked and that whole chapter of their lives had flown by.

“It feels like only yesterday the whole house was filled with Hope, Liam and Leia running about, and with Henry coming home any chance he got. Remember the morning we found the little ones all in the mud out back?”

“Which time?” Emma asked, laughing even as she shook in horror.

The sight of them that day was so damn funny – covered and filthy and dripping in liquid dirt. But it had also been a logistical nightmare. They tracked the stuff everywhere, ruining the couch and a carpet, and the magic each kid was capable had created some kind of spell where all the stains were permanent. It was maddening but also so freaking funny, and of course, Killian had been a superhero, wrangling all three of them back outside to get cleaned off on the back porch. In less than a day he’d had the couch and carpet replaced, consulting Regina about the rest of the mess, all while Emma was on a shift at the station, and her cheeks flushed at the memory of the night they shared together when he got home. There were thousands of nights like that in the long arc of their marriage, but that one stuck out. She was especially grateful for everything he did for her and their family, and they’d made some truly lasting memories as a result.

“Or the Halloween they started the prank war with your siblings?”

“Oh my God,” Emma groaned remembering. Her kids at that point were so beyond toilet papering and throwing eggs. They had the benefit of understanding their true love magic to a certain degree and they’d made use of it. She and Regina had spent days unmaking the mess, and the town was still a little whacked out energy wise until after Christmas.

“How about the day Leia decided she wanted to be a vet?” Killian said, laughing straight out this time.

“She brought home six cats, four bunnies, and three dogs. I still never figured out where she found them all.”

Okay that wasn’t exactly true. Leia made a ‘wish’ that she could give all the homeless pets a home, and her magic had crafted its own attempt at a spell. As a result, all of the strays in a ten-mile radius arrived at their house, all of them charmed by her daughter, and cute even if they were most of them worse for wear.

“To be fair she was only trying to help them all. And she had a plan, didn’t she? A special room or space for every last one of them.”

“She was fourteen at that point. She knew there was no way we could keep them all, even if Hope was away at school and Liam was on his way to college soon too.”

“Perhaps, but we kept more than a few.”

Emma nodded, thinking of their two dogs and two cats. The other animals had all found homes either with her parents, Henry, or Belle. Even at the time she’d found it endearing, and look at where they were now. Leia was away at her last year of college, and she’d been accepted early to the university’s veterinary program. Even if that one day was madness, Emma knew it was the beginning of a real vocation, which she wanted each of her children to feel.

“You know what I think will help?” she asked, circling back around to how much they missed their family.

“Rum?” Killian asked, though he was kidding. He’d cut back considerably as time went on, but he loved pretending rum was still the answer to all things. Always with the jokes, this man.

“Maybe a little. I was thinking you, me, and maybe a bit of sailing?”

“You had me at you and me, love.”

Emma laughed at his attempt to blend a movie quote from long long ago into their conversation. Despite his being here for so many years, Killian still delivered anything having to do with pop culture like he was fresh from the Enchanted Forest. It made for many a funny moment, and this was no exception. The humor of it was only compounded by how quickly he sprung into action. No sooner had she spoken then idea than he was moving about, grabbing things they might need, and packing them a picnic lunch for them to enjoy hours from now when they were out on the water. For a moment she watched him, delighting in how adamant he was to spend time with her and get to go make some brand new memories, but before he could get too carried away, she pulled him into her, clutching at his shirt and smiling at him happily.

“I love you, Killian. A little bit more each and every day.”

“For this day and all days,” he agreed, before kissing her sweetly and resting his forehead against hers. In that moment they just enjoyed this, breathing in the peace and calm they’d fought so hard for. And even when they did break apart, and were back in action once more, Emma carried her love for him always, reveling in how magical it was to truly have a happily ever after.

………………….

I hope we stay the same, hey Honeymoon

Unexpected, this thing that we fell into Lie, so connected You came at a time when my heart was selective Didn't have to choose my love Was accepted, yeah

Now we're running your luck one on one You were sent to me like a one of one And, now we're going I just want no one Nobody else

I hope we never change I hope we stay the same I hope that we can love through the pain After the honeymoon fades I hope we never change I hope we stay the same I hope we can love through the pain After the honeymoon fades

After the honeymoon fades, yeah

I remember when we met we was all in each other's bed And we were spending every second we had And now that it's official it's hitting a little different What the hell we're gonna do with these bads, no yeah

And now we're running your luck one on one You were sent to me like a one of one And, now we're going I just want no one Nobody else

After the honeymoon fades

And I hope it tastes the same Even if it's the best way

Honeymoon fading with you (Fading with you) Honeymoon fading with you (Fading with you) Honeymoon fading with you (Fading with you) Honeymoon fading, fading

Post-Note: So there we have it. Just a happy little dose of future fluff today. I find that writing these kinds of stories always brings me such a warm feeling, and though I know no show can go on forever, I still wish we’d seen more glimpses into how good things would have stayed for CS for years to come. Anyway, my wish for all of you is that this will have brought you some joy today, and that this chapter finds you healthy and well. I appreciate all of you reading and messaging me and leaving comments. It truly means the world, especially because I am mired down in work and stress and worry. I’m hoping to keep posting some chapters in the meantime, but if I get a bit spottier with the frequency, I hope you all will understand. Anyway hope you have a great rest of your weekend and thanks again for joining me on this fluffy little jaunt!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs ff #cs #cs fluff #cs family #cs future #captain swan fluff #captain swan future fic #cs happy ending #emma swan #killian jones #cs mixtape #captain swan mixtape #cs kids #honeymoon fades

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lifeinahole27 · 4 years

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CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 9/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: More nefarious doings from Walsh, and some uhhhh... other side of the law consultation from a certain twin. Also, the beginning of the chapter includes a proper parting "goodbye" between Emma and Killian. ;)

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 9: Of Reunions and Baggage

There’s a lot to be said for the quiet moments they create while they’re together, and Killian is ever happier for the one they had in his office on Saturday. As the week wears on, both of them get more nervous and distracted for what’s coming for them at the end of the week. While they have two different kinds of anxiety, Killian also knows at this point they’re just feeding off each other’s nerves.

Killian is definitely feeling the pressures of the party looming closer. It’s a simple holiday party; he’s had no hand in planning it which is always a relief to him, but it’s bound to feel bigger because of the stakes involved. The most he’ll have to do is give a small speech and make sure Henry is present, and even that isn’t really his job with Robin and Regina as his new foster family.

Closer to Friday, Killian and Emma spend time at each other’s places getting ready for their trips. He’s flying out on Friday morning with the Mills-Hood clan for a weekend in New York City. His original intentions were to take Emma to the party, then spend a day in the city and an evening together before they drove back on Sunday. With no Emma, he was able to tag along with the others for their trip down.

Emma, meanwhile, is driving down to Boston with David. Her task is a little more soul-destroying than his is going to be. With that in mind, he accepts the help she gives on picking out his suit and tie, packing them into his travel garment bag and making sure everything is included.

They spend the next night at Emma’s place, the emotions on the same wavelength but nowhere near as intense as last time they were there, until Killian can finally coax her to sleep with the way his fingers travel through her hair over and over again.

Much like the last time, one of them is awoken from the gentle persuasion of lips on lips, but this time, Killian is remaking that memory with every intention of sending Emma off on her trip in a lighter mood than she would be.

The dawn light is just starting to break through, and Emma will have to leave sooner than either of them wants her to, but in the warmth of her bed, they can both pretend that nothing else exists.

With his lips against hers, Killian slowly draws Emma from her sleep. She’s a temptress when she wakes up, as it’s with her inhibitions low that she has no hesitance showing and telling him exactly what she wants. This morning is no different than the other times they’ve woken each other in such ways, as her hands start gently encouraging him downwards.

It was the destination he had in mind, and he’d never deny her anyway, so he easily glides from the kiss to giving proper attention to her neck and chest. He pushes her sleep shirt out of the way in order to spend a little time with her breasts while his hand slips beneath the ridiculous things she calls sleep shorts. He pays close attention to her movements, her breathing, her sounds, and when she’s on the precipice of losing her patience with his pace, that’s when he moves onward again, replacing his fingers with his lips while he slides her shorts down her legs.

With deliberate motions, he works on coaxing her up to a climax in a slow and steady way. Just when her hands are clutching at his hair, however, he backs off, easing her away from the breaking point while smiling against the barrage of angry noises she makes.

Twice more he takes her up to the edge of the cliff of pleasure, making sure that she’s on board the whole time even though her noises of aggravation are starting to include the way she grumbles his name.

By the time he relents and brings her to climax, he’s almost painfully hard and he and Emma are both covered in a thin sheen of sweat. All the way down her chest is pink from the exertion, but she’s the one that pulls him up, and readies him with protection while he’s still catching his breath. With obvious intent, she pushes him onto his back, sliding onto his cock in one easy movement.

It’s new every time they have sex - the feelings change, or the mood is different - and this time is no exception. She’s a powerhouse on top of him, pulling his hand up to cup her breast while she rides away. Between gasping breaths, she whispers his name, bringing them both close to orgasm with each movement of her hips.

When her hands clench where they’re positioned on his chest, he knows it’s only a matter of time before she crests again, and so he presses against where they’re joined with his left wrist, planting his feet for better leverage to meet her thrust for thrust and urging her to fall again before he reaches his own.

It doesn’t take long, and then Emma is grinding down on him in need, falling against his chest when pleasure takes her over one more time. She lazily bites his shoulder as she comes down, finally igniting his own orgasm and he holds her against him with all his strength. When the last drop of him is spent, he relaxes, letting his legs fall back to the mattress but still cradling Emma close to him.

“You are marvelous,” he whispers against her forehead.

She sits up, pushing sweaty hair off her face and smiling down at him. “So are you. Hopefully we’ve both made up for the fact that we won’t be spending this weekend together.”

“And there will be more where that came from when we meet up again, love. Meanwhile, we both know David will be here sooner than either of us want him to be,” he informs her, regretting the fact that she’s shifting out of his arms and the comfortable hold her body had on him releases.

She sighs at that, smiling as she climbs off the bed. “You’re right. Stick around until I’m done?”

He nods at her, pulling her back for one more solid kiss before she grabs her robe and heads off down the stairs.

In the meantime, he cleans up as much as he can and heads down to make coffee and toast for the both of them.

-x-

Emma is something beyond used to the drive to Boston. Thanks to dating Walsh, the route is so familiar now that it’s almost boring. Okay, so it would be boring if she’d managed to stay awake past ten minutes after they got on the road. But it’s still way too early and Killian did too good of a job of helping her relax this morning, and so she’s out like a light right as David hits his comfortable speed.

She dozes for most of the drive, knowing that the trip is in David’s very capable driving skills. He wakes her up when they’re about twenty minutes away from the address that James gave them, and while she knew he wouldn’t be smack in the middle of downtown, she’s surprised at the suburban feel she’s getting as they get closer and closer.

“No fucking way,” Emma mutters when they reach the address.

The house they pull up to is large and sprawling, and nothing at all what she imagined James would be living in. Of course, she mostly imagined he’d live in some seedy apartment building in the shady side of town with some kind of elaborate code system to even get into the lobby.

But this looks clean and wealthy, and she honestly doesn’t know what to think anymore.

If she thought she was surprised before, she doesn’t know what she is when James answers the door.

“Ah, if it isn’t the do-gooders of the family. Come in,” he tells them, still gently bopping as a baby in a harness sleeps against his chest before he moves back into the house.

Emma looks over to David, who looks back at her with the same wide eyes she knows she has.

“Heat costs money. Get in or get out - either way I don’t care as long as that door is shut.”

At the distant prompting, they finally both move forward, closing the door behind them and taking a moment to remove their boots on the provided mat. With her shoes off first, Emma follows the sounds she can hear and finds James in the kitchen. He’s carefully pulling mugs off a set of hooks beneath the cabinets, while an expensive looking kettle heats on the stove.

“I figured this was a conversation that would do well with some tea. You have a preference?”

“My boyfriend probably would, but I’ll take any kind you have,” Emma says, moving to sit on one of the stools he gestures towards. David joins just a moment later, settling in next to Emma after offering to help and getting shooed away.

When James turns back to work on getting the tea ready, all Emma can do is mentally compare the two brothers in her head. James has this whole brooding look going for him, with facial hair that frames his jaw and chin but looks trimmed and maintained. While David usually wears anything in blues, James is dressed in a black shirt and gray slacks - nothing Emma would expect someone to wear casually around the house, but she has no explanations for anything this man does.

“So why would the two of you need my help when you’re both in law enforcement?” James asks, breaking her from her thoughts.

“It’s Emma that needs the help, actually,” David points out. “You’re a father?”

“This is Robert James. We call him RJ. And he’s king of this household,” James introduces, lovingly stroking the infant’s wisps of hair. “You need me to hack something?”

“Sort of. Yeah. Probably. Okay, definitely.” She’s having a hard time concentrating when she can’t stop staring at the baby attached to the evil twin of her two brothers.

As if sensing this, James huffs and rolls his eyes. With gentle maneuvers, he takes RJ out of the carrier and carefully deposits him in Emma’s arms so swiftly that she doesn’t even have time to protest. She feels the way her lip pouts at the adorable sleeping boy in her arms but she just can’t help it. She’s been hoping for ages that David and Snow were going to have one of their own so she could have a moment like this. She’s an aunt, no matter if she’s in this kid’s life or not.

“Okay, Auntie Emma. Spill.”

At the title, no matter how sarcastic he was being, she does almost cry, but takes another moment to look at the sweet innocence in her arms before she starts her explanation.

“Okay shut up and don’t say anything in response to what I’m about to tell you,” Emma finally says. “I was dating a guy down here a couple years ago and it turns out he has this sick website with naked pictures of all the women he’s slept with.”

James stares at her for a second, lifting an eyebrow. When the tea kettle whistles, he goes to retrieve it, pouring equal measures into each of the mugs placed on the island. “What you’re telling me is that sweet little Emma has porn? On the internet?”

“James.” The warning tone in David’s voice is evident.

“No no, little brother. I get to take a moment to soak in the fact that mom’s second favorite is involved in a porn scandal, okay?” He stands back, placing his hands on his hips and taking a few deep breaths. “Fantastic. Okay. So you want me to hack the site and delete yours?”

“I want them all deleted. The whole website. But this time I need to know that all digital copies were destroyed. And I’m sure he has physical copies, as well.”

“Tallying this up, we’re looking at breaking and entering, hacking, a nasty virus if needed, and theft of personal property?”

“Personal property that he doesn’t have consent to have.”

James bobs his head in consideration for that. “Okay. You have your needs, and I have mine. I want any cash we find in his place. And David has to watch the baby.”

“What?”

“You can’t bring a baby to a B&E, David. And I’m certainly not bringing my son, either,” James says with almost a straight face. He laughs and shifts out of the way of David’s half-hearted attempt to punch his arm. “So what about you? Where’s your kid?”

“We uh, we don’t have one yet,” David admits.

“Is everything all right?” James asks, and Emma looks sharply at him, trying to decipher that tone. “I mean, she’s not a prude or anything, right? I remember Snow was a hottie when you met her.”

That’s a more familiar tone. She’s almost sure that there’s a softness to him that wasn’t there before, though.

“You’re an asshole,” David announces, clearly missing the nuance of the previous statement. “I’m the sheriff. It’s not easy to just take off that amount of time.”

“That sounds like bullshit. You have Emma here as your deputy and the whole town is like two thousand people. You can probably take as much time as you need.”

“How do you know I’m the deputy?” Emma asks, but David speaks a moment later and her question goes unanswered.

“I worry about being a good father. We didn’t have a lot of years with dad and I just… I worry.”

“Dave. If I can keep a baby alive, I’m pretty sure you can.”

“This is a weird energy,” Emma states, unused to the fact that James is being the calm and confident one and David is on shaky ground.

“Here,” James says, taking RJ from her arms and placing him with David instead. “Follow me. It’s time to put him in his crib. Emma, don’t go through my stuff.”

Of course, the minute he’s out of the room, Emma is up and out of her seat. She wanders the kitchen first, taking a peek into his disgustingly clean fridge and opening a few cupboard doors just to see.

In the entryway, there are several portraits of RJ looking fresh and tiny. In one, he’s wrapped snugly in a gray blanket, his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. The one next to that has him cradled between two arms, artfully posed so that no little baby bits are exposed due to the lack of clothes.

“He shit in my hand like ten seconds after that,” James says from directly behind her. There’s such a fondness in his voice that it makes her smile.

“You probably deserved it,” she says, turning and placing a hand on his elbow. “Congratulations. He’s really adorable.”

“Thanks,” is all he says in response, giving her a genuine smile for the first time.

Returning to the kitchen, they spend a few extra minutes talking as they finish their drinks. They leave David shortly after their mugs are empty, with James reminding him no less than four times to call if there are any problems.

There’s total silence on the ride over, and James makes sure to park two blocks over just to be safe. It would be so much easier to do this if it wasn’t December and freezing right now, but at least it isn’t snowing. The latch on the door to the building is still broken, which is fine by her since it’s one less thing they have to break into.

“You remember how to do it like I showed you?” James asks, pulling out his lock-pick set and holding it out to her.

“Don’t you ever tell David I know how to do this or I will hunt you down,” she mutters as she takes the kit and gets to work.

They split up once inside in order to thoroughly comb the small space Walsh likes to call home. It’s little more than a one-bedroom hovel, barely larger than a postage stamp and definitely not worth the rent he’s paying per month. While James focuses on the computer and getting into the website, Emma goes through every drawer, every closet, every nook and cranny she can find.

She hits the jackpot in his bedroom closet, there in the very back, where a locked box sits on the top shelf. She doesn’t even need the kit to get it open, wiggling the flimsy lock just right and grinning when it pops open. She tries not to look too closely at any of the pictures, but it’s definitely a carefully catalogued collection. She sets it on the bed while she keeps combing through his stuff, only satisfied when every item has been shifted and put carefully back in place.

Since it’s the middle of a workday, she never expected that they’d have to confront Walsh at all. She’s doing nothing more than waiting for James to finish up at this point when she hears the front door open and close again.

“Fuck,” she mutters, knowing that they can’t exactly hide.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m all done here,” James says. His thumbs hook under the ledge above the keyboard when he goes to push away and his eyebrows draw down for a second. “Almost done,” he adds, lifting the thumb drive that was clearly not meant to be found. He pockets it just as Walsh walks into the room.

-x-

After seeing Emma off, Killian walks back to his place to shower and get ready for his own trip. Since he had to change his whole trip around, he managed to get on to the same flight as Robin and his merry band of family, and they’re picking him up on their way to the airport soon.

The flight is quick, and he takes his time settling into the hotel room; he’s in for a whirlwind of an evening, so the quiet leading up to the event is something he strives to enjoy.

There’s the small matter that he hasn’t heard much from Emma. But again, she wasn’t quite sure what she was walking into with her ex and David’s twin. He’s glad she was at least able to text him that she’d arrived safely in Boston, but he tempers his hopes that he’ll hear from her again before this is all over.

For most of their events, NeverEndings hosts their parties right in the office, but this one is the biggest event they’ll host all year. The venue has a spectacular view of the city, especially when there’s a light snowfall just starting. He knows it isn’t going to last, and none of it is supposed to stick, but it makes for a pretty view beyond the windows as the sun sets behind the clouds and the party begins.

All of the major clients of the publishing house start filtering in, and Killian makes sure to paste on the smile he’s perfected for such events. After only a couple minutes of schmoozing, however, he feels like his cheeks are going to crack and his eyes are watering, so he excuses himself to get another drink. It’s just ginger ale tonight, which is fine by him.

At the bar, he finds Henry looking dapper in his new suit and his hair slicked back much like Robin styles his.

“All right there, lad?”

“Yeah, just trying to take it all in,” Henry responds, smiling and observing the room at large. “Hey Killian? I never got to say thank you to you or Emma for all your help. Why isn’t she here tonight?”

“She had a personal matter to attend to. I’ll make sure we get lunch sometime soon so you can say it in person,” Killian tells him. “How are things going with Robin and our illustrious leader?”

“It’s going great! I mean, Regina has me doing all these chores around the house and she’s got me enrolled in school for after the holidays end. It’ll be weird going back to public school after being home-schooled so much. She also loves signing us all up for activities. We’ve done two painting classes as a group now down at Aurora’s shop.”

Killian knows the boy is aiming for disaffection or something similar, but the wistful tone to his voice is giving it all away. He’s loving it. From one great family to an absolute personal hell, now back into something like a family, Henry is having the experiences he always wanted as a child.

“Is she making you eat vegetables, too?”

Henry groans with great exaggeration. “So many vegetables. I like Pop-Tarts and Apollo Bars!”

“She just might be the best mum ever, then,” Killian points out, wagging a finger at Henry’s face.

The teenager’s mirth settles until his smile is soft. “Yeah, she might be. She also wants to sign me up for these online writing classes so I can get even better so maybe you’ll have an easier time editing the sequel to my novella.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Henry looks like he didn’t mean to say them.

“I mean, if you guys even choose to publish it. I don’t expect you to. I don’t mean...I’m sorry.”

“You have a second one started?” Killian asks, forgetting all about the fact that they should be mingling, that he should be introducing Henry to everyone that’s still wandering in. “What’s it about, then?”

“Well, I mean, it’s still in the works. I just started it during Thanksgiving after I moved up here. But I had this idea to use someone like… like a villain in other stories. Like Captain Hook? And make him this anti-hero who helps the heroes even though he doesn’t feel like he’s one of them, and it’s because of this that he falls in love.” He’s avoiding eye contact with Killian and the math is pretty easy at that point, so Killian hides his grin behind his ginger ale.

“Who does he fall in love with?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Henry says, the frustrations of a young writer coming out in his voice. “It’s between a couple different people. You figure after all those happy endings that all those fairytale characters went and got married and had kids, right? So maybe he meets someone like Rapunzel and Flynn Rider’s daughter when she’s all grown up. Or Snow White and Prince Charming!”

“I love the concept. And can’t wait to edit this next one with you.”

“Next one? Has my liege acquired our services for his next novella?” Robin comes over, clapping Henry fondly on the shoulder as he gestures with his other hand for another round of drinks.

“Aye, your lad seems to have the next installment all figured out. All we have to do now is get him to write it.”

“Knowing him, he’ll have it written before spring break,” Robin says fondly. “How are you handling all this so far, Henry?”

“It’s… a lot to take in.”

“We’ll go slow. Let either of us know if you need a breather. We’ll focus most of the interacting after dinner is over so you can get adjusted.”

Henry nods, turning just in time for the ball of energy that is Roland to come bounding into his arms.

“Come look! Come look!” the boy says, grabbing onto Henry’s hand and pulling him away from Robin and Killian. Henry sort of rolls his eyes but stands up, looking over his shoulder and shrugging as he gets led over to the windows as Roland excitedly points at all the buildings visible from this angle.

“He may look like a grumbling teenager, but don’t let him fool you. He loves it,” Robin says after they’re both out of hearing range.

“I feel like I already know the answer to this, but how’s he doing?”

“Better than I ever could’ve expected. If I would’ve realized what he was living with, I would’ve suggested this move sooner.”

“How’s Regina handling yet another male in the house?”

Robin chuckles for a moment. “You know, she told me shortly after we started seeing each other that she couldn’t have children. I had Roland, so it’s not like I was in a rush to have any more. But she loved him so quickly and so fully, that I was sure we were fine exactly as we were. And then Henry came in and completed the picture that I didn’t know was unfinished.”

“I’m happy for you all, mate. And I’m glad he’ll be in town with all of us. Talent and imagination like that needs to be cultivated and loved. And lord knows we all have the skills to do that in Storybrooke.”

“That’s why I prefer the branch to be with us instead of down here. It’s all very pretty, lit up like this and with the snow and the Christmas spirits dancing in the air. But Storybrooke has that all the time - not just around the holidays.”

“Also, if you don’t pick up his sequel, I will personally lay my professional career on the line in order to publish it,” Killian says after a moment.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll sign any and all books that lad publishes for the rest of his life, if I have my way. Also, we haven’t told him yet, but we’re already looking to adopt him if he’ll have us.

Robin leaves Killian standing there with that information and Killian can’t help the full grin on his face. He takes a deep breath, asks for one more refill on his drink, and then wanders to their table to wait for dinner to be served.

-x-

Chapter 10

#captain swan #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #csrt

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lassluna · 4 years

Text

Its a brand new day, (it's never too late to start) 1/2

All Killian Jones wants is to survive this February as painlessly as possible. Hopefully without telling his best friend he loves her. That would be a disaster.

It’s made all the more difficult when he gains the attention of a secret admirer.

AN: Thank you so much @csrolereversal for hosting this wonderful event yet again! I am so happy to be a part of it. Thank you @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 for making such a beautiful pic set as well as being a beta reader to this story. It was so fun working with you.

FFn Ao3

“0815?”

The door doesn’t open. Killian curses under his breath, scrolling through his text messages. The landlord had sent him the new code, but he was sparse on details on how to get it to actually work.

“#0815?”

Nope.

Killina sighs loudly, glancing at his watch, knowing that he was going to be late if he doesn’t open this bloody door. He takes a drink of coffee to settle his nerves.

Empty. Bloody perfect.

“#815.” He’s about to start pounding his head on the door. His brother always said he was hard headed, perhaps he can just break the door down.

Why the hell would anyone prefer this bloody contraption rather than a key like a normal bloody person?

He wonders how much he’ll get fined for breaking down his own door to his own shop. It’s far too early for these shenanigans and he is already out of coffee.

“Wow, when Belle told me you hated the new key system she wasn’t kidding,” says a voice behind him. He sighs loudly, face pressed to the door.

He typically loves to see her face in the mornings, but today was already putting him in a foul mood. He didn’t want to say something he’d regret to her of all people.

“Good morning Swan,” he says rather annoyed, because the only thing worse than being locked out of his own bloody coffee shop, was if someone was watching him struggle to open the damn thing. “Not to say I don’t love to see your face so early in the morning, but why are you here?” He says, catching a glimpse at the blonde leaning against her car.

“I was in the neighborhood,” she responds. There was something in her voice that warned him she was up to no good. Most likely plotting to get a free cup of coffee. She always gets free cups of coffee.

“You’re always in the neighborhood when I’m on staff Swan.” She shrugs, approaching him with an unusual spring in her step and a smile. “Aren’t you awfully cheerful,” he notes. Typically Emma Swan doesn’t function at 6 a.m without at least 3 cups of his mocha latte with cinnamon, free coffee or no.

He should know, after being best friends with someone for 3 years, he’s pretty much an expert in Emma Swan.

They’d met on one of her cases, him at a bar next to a man who was hitting on anything in a skirt. She’d sat beside the man in a very pretty skirt. He’d said something offensive to her and had his hand up her dress.

Killian had tried to defend her when Emma Swan made it clear that she didn’t need anyone defending her. She’d hauled the man off to jail at that very spot.

She’d thanked him right after, for coming to her aid even if she didn’t need it. For a moment it seemed like maybe, something could happen.

But it didn’t. She showed up at his coffee shop Bean Around the World the next morning and he offered her a free cup, they’d been friends ever since.

Just friends and nothing more.

Except for the fact that he was in love with her, of course.

“Couldn’t miss seeing you grumpy, Mr. Early Bird,” she teases. “Besides it’s the first day of the New Year!” She steps in front of him and eyes the electronic lock.

“It’s the 6th.”

“New Year doesn’t start until Monday, Killian,” she says, and within a moment she has the damn door open and is just smiling like she’s so damn proud of herself for breaking into his shop. “Come on, I need my hot chocolate like now.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “Is this a robbery?”

“Absolutely; Give me your coffee or I’ll lock the door again.” He’s helpless but to cater to her demands. So, he starts up the little cafe while Emma rummages through the lending library Belle, his manager set up in the back of the shop.

Before long, the machines are warming up, and he has a tall travel mug of Emma’s special mocha latte ready. Judging by her running boots, he has a feeling she’s going to need to be on the move. He decides to throw in a bear claw for good measure.

“For my favorite former thief,” he says, bringing it to her table. Killian glances at his watch, they had a few minutes before he had to officially open.

“I’m the only former thief you know,” Emma points out. She takes a sip of the drink and a big bite out of the pastry. “Have you done anything for your New Year’s Resolution?” She asks.

It catches Killian by surprise, this is the first year Emma had so much as mentioned New Year’s Resolutions, she’d mentioned wanting to make one when they watched the ball drop together at her apartment drinking too much champaign and eating all of the Christmas cookies Liam had sent them.

She’d thought it was just her drunken sugar rush talking, but here she was mentioning it again. He shakes his head.

“What was yours again?” She asks.

Telling the woman I love that I do in fact love her.

“Learn a new language,” he replies. “But after what Henry told me about the Duolingo bird, I don’t exactly trust it,” he admits.

“Henry has an active imagination,” Emma agrees.

She too is fond of the boy that comes into the coffee shop after school. His mom is a lawyer in the plaza and so he often spends a bit of time here reading and doing his homework.

“What was yours?” Killian asks. She looks at him, meets his eyes in a very intentional gesture. It feels oddly intimate.

“Trying something new,” she admits with a soft smile, one that brings a sense of warmth to his bones. It makes Killian desperately want to kiss her.

But he doesn’t, because that would ruin everything.

“So something besides your mocha hot chocolate?” He assumes quickly, looking away before he does something he regrets.

“Uh...yeah” she says just as quickly. “New coffee orders sounds just up my alley,” she says, shoving what’s left of her pastry into her mouth and downing the rest of her coffee.

“Great, I’ll have something new and interesting waiting for you next time you show up!” He announces happily. He’d hounded Emma in the past about expanding her horizons, but she was a stubborn one.

“Sounds like a plan,” Emma agrees before quickly exiting the shop.

It leaves Killian with an odd feeling like he missed something.

Belle shows up to the shop a quarter before 3, smiling brightly as she clocks in.

“Good Morning, boss,” she says, putting her apron on. The apron was unnecessary since managers weren’t usually the one behind the coffee machines, that she left with some of the younger baristas working.

“Belle, you don’t have to call me boss.” Not that his words matter since she always ignores it anyway.

“So I didn’t see the door broken so I assume you got in ok, Boss?” He nods.

“Of course I did. I told you it would be fine, didn't I?” He insists.

“Emma opened the door didn’t she?”

“Why did the new landlord replace the bloody lock anyway?” He says in annoyance. “The old one was working fine!”

Except for the way the key kept getting stuck, and the door would sometimes lock when it wasn’t supposed to. They’ve had some awkward moments getting locked out in the middle of a delivery. So it needed an upgrade, it didn’t mean they had to make it robotic.

“It might be because he kinda hates you,” Belle retorts. “And he knows you don’t do well with computer systems.”

Killian grumbles in agreement under his breath. The bloody monkey who’d bought the strip mall last year always did have a thing against him. He was always coming up with some new idea to make everything more difficult. Only reason they hadn’t been evicted was because the leasing contract had been airtight thanks to Regina Mills. The best contract lawyer in town, considering she had the very same contract he knew it was good.

Besides, she definitely wanted to keep her favorite coffee place and after school stomping ground of her only child.

“I’ll call him and see if we can’t get a better system in place,” Belle assures him. “Maybe he’ll think I’ll agree to a date if he stops being so annoying.”

“Ruby would have a bone to pick with him if you did,” he supplies with a smirk. “What would I do without you?” She shrugs happily.

“You can return the favor by coming to my Valentines Day party,” she tells him with a pointed glance. It doesn’t surprise him, Belle has been talking about throwing this party for months. He just had no desire to attend, Belle was his friend, and had it been for any other holiday he’d definitely be in attendance.

Valentine's Day, however, he had no desire to be surrounded with happy couples basking in their joy. Perhaps he was a scrooge, but it would just be too much for him.

It would tempt him too much into saying something he’d regret to Emma.

“Come on Killian!” Belle insists. “You don’t have to bring a date, you can just be there, get drunk, and eat lots of candy.”

“As tempting as that offer sounds, I’ll pass. Good luck with your party, and your shift. I’ll be back tomorrow,” he tells her.

He can hear Belle call out a response, but it’s lost in the sound of people in the small cafe.

Killian is exhausted when he gets home. He desperately wants a shower. He smells like a dark roast espresso. He’s so tired that he nearly misses it, but the bright color catches his eye.

It's a bright red shimmer bag with golden hearts all over. Inside was a large white mug. It had “Be Happy” written in black and gold font. He picks it up gently, both confused by its presence and knowing that it’s for him. Why else would it be outside his door? He looks around quizzically, as if something else in the empty hallway could give away the purpose for this gift.

There was nothing.

He scratches behind his ear nervously before returning inside with his mug. Honestly he’s not too sure what to do with it. He considers putting it in his cupboard with the rest of his coffee mugs, but that feels odd considering he didn’t even know if he should keep it.

Emma always mentioned how vacant his mug cupboard was considering his occupation. He always seemed to leave his at work and they wind up mixed in with the rest of the ones at work. The first time it happened, Henry had tweeted about it. Now it’s become a game his regulars play: collect all the pictures of Jone’s coffee mugs.

It definitely drummed up business, but at the cost of having but three mugs of his own. (All of which were Emma’s)

It made Killian think that maybe....

But he quickly swept the thought away.

Emma certainly didn’t leave this here for him, she’d have just brought over another mug if she thought he was lacking. Something like this...it reeked of someone with romantic intentions, how else explain the golden heart wrappings?

And Emma certainly didn’t have romantic interests in them, it was simply impossible.

Emma Swan was a woman who took what she wanted, so if she fancied him, he is sure he would know by now.

Then again, he thinks, Emma Swan being the tough bad ass Bail bonds person she was never liked discussing feelings or emotions. She told him bits and pieces about her past, but her feelings and emotions behind it remained closely guarded.

She was a woman who kept her emotional cards close to her chest. She’d spent a very long time getting over her issues over being abandoned as an infant, even longer getting over her ex abandoning her and framing her for a crime she didn’t commit.

She was brave and strong, but was also terrified of being abandoned.

If it’s not Emma, Killian wonders who could have possibly left this mysterious present behind.

Belle maybe? Only her apartment was the opposite direction of his, and it seemed out of character for her to leave it rather than give it to him directly. Especially since she secretly had a girlfriend.

There were a couple neighbors who always smiled when he looked their way, but one was married and the other was carrying her fiance’s child. They both seemed unlikely but not impossible.

There was always Granny, owner of the diner across from his cafe with her obvious flirting, he didn’t often visit the diner, but he always enjoyed the occasional waffle when he was a bit hungover. Every time he visited she would shamelessly flirt with him, but she was very direct. Also, he had a hunch it was just to make her granddaughter, Ruby, uncomfortable.

(Vengeance for Ruby’s refusal to introduce her grandmother to her secret girlfriend he supposed)

He considered asking Emma her opinion, she was an avid investigator after all, but something occurs to him.

He doesn’t want to give Emma the wrong impression. The last time he’d shown interest in someone else, Emma had started to pull away. He hadn’t understood it at first, but Emma was trying to give him space to date, to be happy without getting in the way, which was absolutely absurd. She was his best friend and would continue to be for as long as she’d have him. No relationship would change that.

The last thing Killian wants is to make that happen again. So a decision is made, he isn’t going to tell Emma, he’s just going to hope that someone made a mistake, or that it was a one time thing.

Perhaps the mysterious gift giver was just someone in the apartment complex that had left it at someone’s door at random.

It was not random. A few days later he finds a teddy bear with a rose in the same spot outside his door.

“Good Morning, Swan,” Killian greets sarcastically leaning against the bloody immovable door.

The new code he’d tried to set up still wasn’t working, he’d finally run out of mugs (except for the mystery one of course), and there was another gift left this morning.

He could hear her car pull into one of the staff parking spots. The unreasonable caffeine deprived part of his mind told him she was here to laugh at his inability to open doors, remember his coffee mugs, or find secret admirers.

Not that Emma was aware of that last bit.

“Just wanted to make sure you got in ok, and maybe catch up.” she assures him. “No coffee?” She asks. He shakes his head.

“Didn’t have a clean mug,” he admits. “I left mine here yesterday.”

Well he did have a clean mug, but Emma would notice a new mug.

“Oh,” she replies a bit disappointed. “Well...you really need new mugs,” she says, moving towards the door. “And to stop leaving yours at work. I think the collection has reached 15 at this point.” She reminds him.

He knows she’s right. He also can’t help but be annoyed with how easily Emma opens the door. “How the hell do you do that?” Killian asks. He’s convinced the landlord programmed it so that he couldn’t open it but anyone else could with ease just to make him insane.

“Magic.” She says with a grin. He disappears into the darkness of the cafe as he does his usual opening procedures, but he doesn't forget to make Emma her beverage. Her new beverage. He needed to pick something Emma would like, but still push her outside her comfort zone.

He decides to start her off with something in her ball park.

“White mocha latte,” Killian announces. She’s on her phone and looks stunned by the drink put in front of her. “You wanted to try something new, right?” Suddenly he feels very nervous and regrets just not bringing her her favorite beverage.

“Yup,” Emma says sternly. “Of course.” She takes a big sip. “It’s great, super sweet,” she confirms.

“It’s popular with the caffeine lovers but coffee haters,” he confirms.

“Right ok,” she says, sipping on it some more. “Are you on for Netflix tonight?” she asks.

Killian nods.

He’d almost forgotten about it. Netflix with Emma was the highlight of his week, they usually got pizza or chinese and picked something at random and just watched it all night long.

Belle used to ask him if anything happened between them on these late night platonic dates, but it never did. Nothing worth mentioning after all.

Which was fine. It was great even. They were best friends.

Last week they’d had to skip it when Emma got called away on an assignment, but this time would be fine.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

#csff #csrr #captain swan au #best friends to lovers #coffee shop au

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insane-control-room · 4 years

Text

The Sketch

Chapter Five, Segment One

Full Chapter on Ao3 here

Previous Chapter

Previous (segment) - Next

Can I axe you a question?

Johan’s computer hummed to life as he took it in his hands, running one over the cracked glass that made the screen. The ink machine hissed and sputtered.

“ You cannot win! ” ink welled from the ground, from the world. Joey ignored it, patting the bee on his hand, giving it one of the wires of the computer to hold betwixt some of her small legs. The computer’s power rose even higher. “ You will not win! ”

“What are you going to do to stop me?” Johan asked calmly, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just a machine. My machine. That I never built.”

Exactly .

It seeped back into the ground, the black and white and null ground.

I killed everything, because you failed to complete your duty. Your whole world, gone, eaten by your own desperate hunger.

Johan’s fingers landed on the keys, and he sat on the ground, typing as fast as he could. The grass’ green glow slowly returned to lustrous light, the sunshine above cracking through the inky casing that held it hidden and far away. His heart beat, beat, beat, faster and faster, joyous happiness flowing through him. He could restore what was lost, he could pull everything back.

No, you cannot.

Metal shot up from the now soft and minerally earth, chains forming in the air, diving down to grab his wrists. He yelped as the scorching hot metal gripped his arms, lifting him up, and hurling him through the wall of the studio. The gravestones of Linda and Henry loomed before him, and instead of driving the spoke of despair through his weak heart, a spurt of hope burst through his veins. His computer came to his hands once more, and click, click, nana plants bloomed, their catnip tips flowing mint fresh life wafting through the air.

With the scent, roses bloomed.

Stars winked in the sky.

Darkness. The ink machine loomed above Joey, golden cogs churning. It was in it’s most perfect form, unmade by human hands, but still, volatile, reckless, and imperfect for a… human world. Something untouched simply could not be. Perfection could not exist, should not exist, the call of perfection a deadly vice and ensnaring trap that sucked each being into an endless portcullis of spiralling doom, seeking something that will never and cannot be unleashed, for if it were, the world would not stand against the flaming torch of awesome perfection, perfection itself leaching any imperfection from the perfectly imperfect earth.

Joey picked himself off of the wooden floor, limping to the wall in a retreat, his hand searching for something the haze in his mind was not sure of, something… with a wooden shaft.

His calloused fingers wrapped around the fire axe smoothly, the ridges in the wood a comforting weight in his empty hand.

That would do.

It would do nicely.

When the wood began creaking around Johan, the infected beams bursting asunder to reach for him, the axe swung, breaking each board like it was nothing, simply air.

He forced his way out of the studio, and summoned his computer and the bee holding it.

Fending off the pipes and wood with his left hand, typing as fast as he could (without making typos) with his right, he coded a function, a new function.

No.

A chain shot up once more, clanging against the axe Johan swung to fight it, but he was too slow. His wrist was caught, and dragged to the earth, his eye landing a mere inch from the blade of the axe. His breathing rushed, too fast. His wrist hurt too much from the pressure driving it into the ground. Gasping, he grabbed the axe in his right hand.

Too much, too much.

He rose the axe above his hand, ready to drive it down, anything to relieve the pain.

Wait, no no no, what was he thinking, what was he doing? These ideas were not his.

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear your whispers!” Joey yelled with a snarl, throwing the axe down, gripping his wrist and pulling, trying to tug himself free. “Shut up!”

I did not say anything, Mr. Drew.

“You did! You tried to make me cut my hand off!” Johan barked, managing to pull the chains up, too little to rise out of, but the pain slackened briefly, then spiked once more. “Shut up, you sniveling insidious orangutan!”

It’s only your own mind.

“Shut it!” Johan gasped, trying his utmost best to get his hand out of the chains. His panicked eyes landed on his thumb, and he remembered a trick Rico taught him.

Grip thumb by base.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breath in.

Brea

Pull.

He held in his scream as his hand burned with the pain.

His hand slipped out of the chains, and he whimpered as he replaced his thumb with an unnatural and creaking pop. He forced his breathing to stay regular. In, and out, and repeat. It’s ok, it’s fine.

You’re so very foolish.

“Get out of my head,” he wheezed, pressing his injured hand to his stomach to wait for the agony to abate. “Ungrateful g-garbage eating weasel.”

Such abusive language!

“Screw you,” Johan continued to type with his right hand, his left slowly healing. He daintily set it aside his left, and he sped up once more. The building behind him creaked and pulsed, shifting into the perfect machine’s will. “Aw, shi….”

He was pulled away from his computer, both his hands reaching for it, trying to take it with him, but he fell forward onto the cold hard ground. His hands scrambled for a hold, his ankles gripped by chains and pipes. Johan managed to grab something, his weapon, the axe, his heart thumping, blazing, beating.

He was dragged down, and he twisted onto his back to aim.

The machine churned, maw firey and open to take him.

The axe embedded itself into the ‘eye’ of the machine.

It roared.

Johan aimed the shotgun at its heart.

And he fired.

#control writes #control art #joey drew #the ink machine #johan ramirez #mild violence #injury #the big picture #bendy and the ink machine #batim #the sketch #axe

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years

Text

Hello Stranger Part 3

At this point, I don't even feel like redoing the final authors notes. Thank y'all all. Edit: So, okay... I’m feeling better, so lemme say that I am trying out deadlines and discipline for ff WIPs. This one I planned as a three parter. So, hopefully you like the conclusion.

Hello Stranger Part 3

Henry had woke up on the couch with a start! He had been transported into the past while he slept, and was right at that moment where he let Charlotte walk out of his life. That day he didn't know he wouldn't see her for 10 years. Now that he did, every time she walked away was a nightmare. He checked his phone. He'd only gotten about 2 hours of sleep. But he still got up and headed straight to the florist shop.

Making floral arrangements gave him some peace of mind. The decision to open a real store occupy his time and set appointments for people had been one of his best ideas. Most people ordered online anyway. And it was nothing to hire a few people to just man the shop, for when he couldn't be there because of his real work as Captain Danger.

None of the staff knew of his lifestyle, nor did they have access to the Man Caves. Schwoz reprogrammed the elevator to be code activated, and they replaced a few of the damaged caves with other burrows that Henry needed. His gym, his spa, a man cave for Schwoz, one for Jasper, and Ray's retirement home… which was currently the active Man Cave, because he didn't have friends or plans but didn't want to work as Captain Man anymore.

Henry's biggest concern about Ray retiring was that he didn't want Ray to "Jason Todd" him. "If you want to relinquish Captain Man, I take up the mantle-hood for sure and for good. Schwoz works for the Man Cave, meaning me and you can't have the right or even the ability to take anything over from me." Ray had agreed to that, only because he assumed Henry would be lax about it.

Sometimes he would try to threaten Schwoz to get something his way, but Henry had given Schwoz the option to escape Ray's threats by grounding him in the Man Cave until he calmed down. The first time was a doozy. The fight that Ray and Henry had when he came to see if he'd cooled off was their biggest yet. At the end of the conversation, Henry clarified, "As long as I'm in charge of the Man Cave, you don't get to attack, threaten or violate Schwoz or Jasper. They work for me and it is a hostile work environment that I won't allow on my watch. If you can't deal with that, Schwoz will bring Halley back to babysit you, if need be." He had his tough dad voice that he sometimes had to use with his own dad and when Ray stormed to his retirement cave, he locked him out of the Man Cave for a while,just in case.

But, seeing Charlotte and recalling their argument, his words, and recollection of examples of her truth over the years… he had to make it right. He built her a bouquet and sent it to where the search engine told him her office was. The high point of his day,nope.. his decade, was seeing the reaction she posted and all of the replies.

Followers trying to guess who the mystery man was. All the heart eyes and jealous drooling. The compliments on the bouquet itself because he appreciated respect for his craftsmanship.

Taking things slow, Charlotte soon realized meant that Henry needed them to work at his pace. Not necessarily slow in general, but he seemed more at ease whenever he could make the first move. She could handle that. She didn't like to chase anyway, so that was preferred to her.

They were spending time together, going on dates, talking about themselves and their worlds, and not dwelling on the fight and forgiveness between them - just the future. They were helping Jasper with wedding plans, both silently thinking and wondering what their own might look like if that was ever an option. Charlotte absolutely lived for Jasper's engagement ring and whenever they went to help him pick out Don's wedding ring, she couldn't help but notice Henry looking at various other ones. So, just for laughs, she said, "Be sure to consider that it's either an ethically sourced diamond, if not just crystals, something that says she's sift and dainty, but also don't get it twisted, she's a god-damned boss."

Henry blushed and giggled, "I don't even know what that means but I'll repeat it for the vendor if I'm ever in the market. I'm more of a 4 c's, reputable jeweler with genuine care for the buyer… I feel like just like with food or with flowers, the gift of a ring has to have all of the steps outlined in love. Like… I agree with ethically sourcing, and raise you ethically selecting. The jeweler needs to help the fiance find the perfect ring for their spouse,to feel that energy in that little piece of jewelry. But also, the jewelry has to consent. She has to call you and let you know that she's willing to be that symbol for the rest of her existence…" He looked at a particular ring whenever he said that. Charlotte definitely peeped it. It was perfect. It was probably the most visible representation of her desire for a ring that she had ever seen.

Whenever Henry caught her staring at it with him, he noted the expression in her eyes. She blinked it away and smiled, saying, "Well, Henry Hart, you and some ring are going to make some person… to be honest, if anybody proposed to me having said some stuff like that, they'd better have the entire ceremony in their pocket because how do you not just marry them on the spot?" He laughed.

Jasper fussed from across the store, "I really am happy that you found love, and I'ma let you finish, but I'M the one trying to buy a ring right now!"

Both friends blushed and, and bumbled over their words, and got back to business. Henry gestured to the jeweler at the ring when Charlotte was devoting her visible attention to Jasper. He didn't know when or if he'd ever actually use it, but seeing that look in her eyes, he certainly couldn't just leave it behind… not that he was letting either of his friends see him take it today. There were so many conversations and milestones before… he could even fathom breaching that subject.

Months passed of something that he couldn't put into words. Charlotte gave him the space and speed he needed all of the time and didn't seem pressed about it. They were going to be each other's dates to the wedding, even though they were both actually in the wedding as part of Jasper's wedding party, and he was simply floating on air lately.

Three months into their relationship, he was finally ready to be sexual with her. He'd explained the first time that they got physically intimate that he "didn't really get around to gaining any experience." It took quick work for her not to facially respond to Henry admitting to her that he was not only a virgin but sort of a prude. "I just couldn't for a long time, then after a while, it was pretty embarrassing and I've never met anybody or gotten close to anybody that I could be vulnerable enough to admit this to. I hope you don't think I'm as much of a loser as I feel right now."

She collected him and strummed his face, "There's no reason for either of us to feel like you're a loser. So you haven't had sex yet. So what? There's plenty of people who haven't for various reasons and all of them are valid. The reasons and the people."

The months of kissing, cuddling, and watching Henry figure out what he liked and loved and wanted was really satisfying for her. She had forgotten what it was like to have longer journeys than a fling and sometimes forgotten how it felt to feel something for the person that she was physically connecting with. Besides that, by the time he was ready for her, she was working with a combination of 10 years of him longing, 28 years of him waiting, and the 15 years of hero physical training and working that had his body magnificent to her. Plus, she was super in love with him at that point. It was hands down the best she had ever had and as they grew, it just kept getting better.

For him, it was the fulfillment of everything that he had waited for. Charlotte was always careful not to make him feel upset or unsure. She didn't make him feel inadequate. She was clear and concise about what she could do for and to him, always making certain that he was comfortable and consenting. It was way more beautiful than he thought his first time would be. He expected her to look annoyed when he fumbled or chuckle uncontrollably when he asked what he felt like were stupid questions. She was the perfect partner though - equal portions companion and friend.

It was like he'd been living in a bubble. It was like he forgot that real life had a way of bursting bubbles. It was like he forgot that just because Ray wasn't around her, Ray didn't exist on the same plane. He had definitely forgotten that Ray had agreed to give Jasper away…

From the moment that he and Charlotte came into contact, Ray was pretty much at her neck. The thing about it was that they hadn’t seen each other in 10 years and the last time that he’d done this to him, she had told him about himself and didn’t take it back nor regret it a single moment. So, on this day, she certainly wasn’t going to have any of his shit.

“Ah, if it isn’t world renown problem solver Charlotte. Are you here to make sure nobody has any fun at Jasper’s wedding?”

Henry sighed threw his head back. Why hadn’t he considered that Charlotte and Ray would have bad blood.

“Oh, look - Ray Manbabychester. Riding fifty and still going on fifteen,” she commented right back. He fumed and she smiled and added, “Great to see you, Old Man.”

“I don’t look a day over 35,” he said, and while he did still look pretty good for his age, she couldn’t resist.

“Maybe not, but you don’t act a day over 5. Moving on to rehearsal, because we do want this to go on schedule, right Jasper?” Jasper fought off laughter as he nodded. For the rest of the rehearsal, Ray and Charlotte had it out. He’d try to get under her skin and she’d redirect him to what he could kiss. By the end of it, she announced to everyone, “Okay. People that we all claim to love are getting married on tomorrow. Hundreds of thousands of dollars, hundreds of hours, and immeasurable dedication has been given to this event. If I am the fun police, I’ll be that, because I’ll be damned, if anyone,” she looked directly at Ray, “jeopardizes Jasper’s special day.”

“Bridesmaid of Buzzkill, everyone!” Ray cheered.

“That doesn’t even make sense, you MASSIVE idiot!” she fussed, finally losing her cool. “I can’t believe that you’re still exactly the same as you always were...” Her voice was high pitched and screeching and she was honestly ready to sock him in the face, now thinking about the fact that he was pretty much the reason that she and Henry hadn’t spoken in as long as they hadn’t and she knew that even though Henry never said it that he probably spent that time bad mouthing her, just like he was currently doing. And now that she was thinking about it, she was a little bit mad that Henry hadn’t defended her today, not once and was getting ready to drag his ass for that too, as soon as she got him alone, but he injected himself into her fussing at Ray.

“Dude, you’ve been on her all day, and everybody is exhausted with it. Just stop.”

Ray scoffed. “Don’t. Don’t do that. Look, when I was an 18 year old kid, I let that stuff fly, but you know what she means to me and even if you don’t like her or don’t respect her, I’m not gonna just stand here while you bash her. It’s offensive to her, to me, and to Jasper, who we’re all here for… And you know… His spouse-to-be too…”

Ray folded his arms, “You’re siding with her after everything that she did to you?”

“Everything she…?” Henry clenched his fists and said to Jasper, “We’re gonna go, okay?” Jasper nodded. Ray moped as he stomped out of the building and Charlotte tried to keep steam from exploding from her ears. Henry gently pulled her aside, shook his head and said, “I am so sorry that I let that go on for so long. I promise, I was gonna get him together when he first jumped off, but you seemed like you had it and I didn’t think he was getting to you until that part. I would’ve protected you if I thought you needed it..”

She nodded, “I did have it at first. Then, he just kept taking jabs and I thought about all of the years that I put up with that kind of stuff from him. I thought about all of the realizations that I came to in my self discovery of how toxic and traumatic a lot of his verbal and emotional abuse was and the times that he literally almost killed me multiple times while I was a kid at a part time job. Then, I thought about everything that he’s done to you, and I just snapped. I know you love him. I know that I don’t fully understand your relationship. I just…"

"You're right. You were then and you are now. It took me awhile to realize it, that over the years as I was coming into myself, I saw examples and I know that you were spot on about a lot of it, even if I couldn't handle hearing it yet. I do love him and I always will, but I'm not letting those feelings get in between you and me ever again.I'm still working on me and I'm working on him. I'm working on us. I let my loyalty to Ray make us strangers, once. We were never supposed to be that. Look, I know that you don't believe in "the one" or forever, but whatever it is that you think about journeys, I think that you have to know that some of those don't end until you die. And that's what I want, with you. This journey until I'm done."

She leaned into him with a smile and said, "Henry Hart, that sounded suspiciously like a proposal."

"Well, it was definitely the set up to one. Certainly can't ask any time this weekend. Do you realize the level of Bridesgroomzilla that Jasper would unleash?"

"Oh, he would kill us."

"Precisely, and I'm not in any position to die, now that I've finally found my reason for living."

It would be an utter lie to suggest that he didn't frequently make her gush. This eas above and beyond that, though it was interrupted when Ray yelled from the door, "Henry, are we leaving or not???"

Henry groaned, forced a smile and said through his teeth, "He might wind up getting killed."

"Yeah, by Jasper if he keeps it up," she said and they parted ways. A couple of hugs and kisses later, that is. "Good luck getting Gramps settled."

He met up with Ray, scolding him while he pouted and Charlotte waved at them and watched them bicker from the window of the venue. Ray was a lot, but Henry said that he was working on him, on them,so maybe there was hope for him yet.

As for her hope, she was staring at him. He looked back, smiled and the world stopped for a while. Maybe she hadn't believed in soul mates because at the time, hers was a stranger and they were estranged. She didn't know that it could ever be this way. But, it was and her next journey just might be the longest. The stranger was gone now and her soul mate had entered the journey with her and he wanted that journey… for life.

The End.

#henry danger #chenry #charlotte page #henry hart #hd fanfic #nesha hd fics #hello stranger #part 3

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ciara-knightly · 5 years

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Queen for a Day

...

[a rupture-verse fic]

Summary: Piper meets Arc. He’s decidedly cooler than Henry.

Basically a meeting we regrettably missed.

As Piper came in through the front door, she caught a flash of blond hair in the kitchen over the top of her phone. Neither of her parents were home, so she jumped to the obvious conclusion.

“Hey, loser!” she called out to Henry, plopping down on the couch. “Get me some of the new berry lychee juice mom got. I thought it was gross, but Jana Tetrazzini said it’s the coolest thing ever so now I have to like it.”

“Loser?”

Piper jolted. That was definitely not her brother. And it wasn’t Jasper either.

Whipping around, she saw a boy - a very cute boy, with that flop of hair and clear blue eyes - leaning against the counter. His casual stance gave away his ease. His clothes looked a little strange, but nothing too unusual. He was wearing a pair of dark pants and a maroon colored top paired with a navy vest. The guy made it work. If anything, it was a step up from the endless row of plaid shirts in her brother’s closet that he considered fashion. (A couple were okay. But if that was almost all he wore? Then it was a bit of a problem.)

But no matter how cool he seemed, he was still breaking and entering.

“Who are you?” she shrieked, jumping up. “I’ll have you know that I’m the president of the Man Fans. I can have Captain Man here in a couple minutes!”

“The Man whats?” the boy said, bemused by her attempt to threaten him.

“Piper, no!” Charlotte shouted, running down the stairs. She came to a stop between the two at the end of the couch, panting. “This is a friend. He didn’t break in.”

“I could have if I wanted to, though,” the guy admitted. “You might want to get your door locks changed. That door would not stand a chance against anyone with decent picking abilities.”

Charlotte stared at him blankly, and he sheepishly shrugged.

“Well, if you’re a friend of Charlotte’s...” Piper said, relaxing as she held out a hand. “I’m Piper. Sorry I called you a loser, I thought you were Henry.”

“Arc,” he introduced himself, giving her a charming smile. “And it’s okay. Older siblings really do be annoying. I mean, I have a couple younger sisters, but my older brother? Yeesh.”

His grin, Piper realized, was infectious as she broke out into her own. “I hear that, up top, brother!” she exclaimed, and he gave her a high-five. Piper turned to Charlotte, her voice dropping as she spoke seriously. “Charlotte, please tell me you’re replacing my brother with Arc. You can do so much better than Henry.”

Charlotte gagged, while Arc’s cheeks turned rosy as he coughed into his fist to hide a small smile. But Piper saw it, nonetheless, and she sidled closer to him.

“So, how do you know Charlotte?” Piper asked.

“Work,” Charlotte said, at the same time Arc replied with “Mutual friends.”

Piper raised an eyebrow, eyes darting between them.

Arc and Charlotte looked at each other.

“Uh, what we mean is,” Charlotte explained, “we met through mutual friends from work.”

“By mutual friends do you mean my brother and Jasper?” Piper asked, cocking her head. There were only so many people working at Junk ‘n’ Stuff, and she sincerely hoped Charlotte did not consider their weirdo boss a friend. The poor girl already had to deal with Henry and Jasper, after all.

“Yup,” Charlotte said, nodding in agreement.

“Okay,” Piper nodded. That made sense. Charlotte always made sense, even if some other people didn’t. After all, they shared girl code. “Speaking of my brother, where is he?”

“Henry went with Jasper to pick up Ciara, Arc’s friend,” Charlotte explained. “They should be here with some food soon.”

“Great, I am exhausted!” Piper dramatically said. She strode back over to her seat on the couch and flopped down. “This whole berry lychee juice and Jana thing has me so pooped. And now I need to know how to make her look bad.”

Arc looked her up and down, eventually fixating on a point just over her head. “I think I know how to do that.”

“Hey, people!” Henry yelled as he walked through the door, pizza box in hand and followed by Jasper and Ciara. “Sorry it took so long, but we finally got the pizzas.” He wrinkled his nose. “Stupid Jeff was being stupid and tried to rob the place before we could leave.”

He paused when he saw the scene before him. Piper was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, legs crossed as she leaned back between Arc’s legs, who was sitting above her. Beside them, Charlotte was quietly observing the two.

Jasper was the one who voiced his thoughts first. “Whoa, what’s going on?”

“Arc’s doing some sort of braid for Piper,” Charlotte explained, not looking away as Arc’s fingers expertly moved through the younger girl’s hair.

“Yeah, Se-where I’m from, we have some cool hair traditions, so I picked up some doing my younger sisters’ hair,” Arc explained. Even as he looked up, his fingers deftly looped strands together. “This is a variation of a fishtail braid crown. Fit for a queen.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about those,” Ciara said, stacking the pizza box in her hand on top of Henry’s before rushing into the seat on Arc’s other side. “I never saw one, though.”

“Hey!” Henry yelped at the sudden addition. Sighing, he set down the food on the floor next to the low one-seater, dropping into the chair. Jasper, ever the loyal friend, stayed next to him, even though he seemed to be fighting the urge to join the others crowding around Arc.

“This will definitely make Jana jealous,” Piper squealed. She pouted, turning to Henry as much as she could with Arc’s hands holding her head in place. “Why’d you never learn some cool braids to make me look good?”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Maybe if you weren’t such a brat, I would have.”

Piper crossed her arms and harrumphed. “Well, Arc is really cool.”

“Is he really that cool?” Ciara sarcastically mumbled, but no one other than Arc heard.

“Just let me have my moment,” Arc whispered back, and Ciara scoffed, but acquiesced with a small smile as she continued to watch his handiwork.

On the floor, Piper continued. “ If he wasn’t new to Swellview, I’d say he’s a dead ringer for Kid Danger. He’s got the swag and the blond hair and he’s the perfect height.”

At that, everyone around the room shared amused glances, avoiding looking at Henry, who only gritted his teeth in annoyance.

“Eh, Arc’s a bit taller,” Jasper interjected. Henry’s scowl deepened further if possible. Scratch that earlier thought about Jasper being a loyal friend.

“Either way, cooler than Henry,” Piper said, her mind made up. “Henry wishes he were as awesome as Arc, let alone Kid Danger.”

“Okay, you know what--” Henry said, getting up from his seat, only to have Jasper push him down by the shoulders.

Charlotte forced a laugh and cleared her throat, desperately searching for a way to change to the subject. “So, Arc, Ciara, it’s getting late. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Would you like to stay forever?” Piper asked loudly. Henry rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

“What?” Arc said, holding back a laugh.

“I’m just saying, you’re the brother I never had,” Piper continued, stars in her eyes as she ignored Henry's sulking. “I’m pretty sure I can peer pressure dad into adopting you.”

(Later, Arc told Piper in the vaguest possible terms that he hadn’t seen his siblings in over a year. He would do anything to protect them, though, and Henry probably felt the same way about her.

But he’d still be her honorary brother if she wanted him to be.)

#ok that ending? i just had to add it because i am s o f t #henry danger #knight squad #rupture-verse #piper hart #arc #henry hart #my writing #shona

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wits-writing · 5 years

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Earth’s Mightiest Retrospective Ep 36: “Prisoner of War”

(Directed by Steve Gordon, Written by Kevin Burke and Chris Wyatt, Original Airdate: July 1, 2012)

The return of the real Steve Rogers, rather than the Skrull impersonator, to the story of Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes makes a strong base premise for “Prisoner of War” to build from and it’s more than up to the task. Steve’s story begins with a flashback to two months ago, creating a solid timeline for how long he’s been replaced. We get a glimpse into the process the Skrulls have been using to perfectly replace their targets on Earth, a ritual that uses both magic and science. It’s confirmed that Skrull-Cap’s mission to prepare for the invasion was to make sure the Avengers fell apart, which he accomplished as of last episode. Steve’s been kept alive aboard a Skrull warship, imprisoned and tortured so the invaders can determine what it takes to break the human spirit. They picked the wrong person to test that on, since Captain America remains resilient no matter what he’s put through. He even sees through a faked rescue by Skrulls disguised at the other Avengers (“How stupid do you think I am?” – Steve)

He manages to escape from his cell to discover see exactly where the prison is for the first time since being captured, somewhere around Saturn. Looking for other prisoners leads him to the victim of the first Skrull infiltrator we were aware of on the show, Madame Viper. The Hydra officer’s in disbelief that Captain America’s standing in front of her, reasonably so considering everything we’ve seen the Skrulls doing to Steve. The two work together despite their usual allegiances, considering it’s their best chance at returning to Earth. Steve holds up the Skrull that tortured him to get information on why the aliens are so invested in Earth. When the Skrull laughs off Cap’s threats because of the hero’s moral code, he says he can’t guarantee the same mercy from his fellow escapee (“I want to see what color its blood is.” – Viper)

Steve and Viper are given the entire story of why the Skrulls are invading Earth. The Skrull’s had a prophecy that eventually their home planet would be destroyed and there’s a prophesized new home planet in the galaxy to serve as the new center of their empire. When Galactus, Devourer of Worlds, completed the first part of the prophecy, it spurred Skrull Queen Veranke to determine Earth as the chosen planet for their new home. The details around this prophecy are the most material we’ve gotten out of the Skrull’s motives this season. We see several Skrulls reference the prophecy in passing this episode whenever they take another step in their plans by the repeated phrase “As it is written.” The Skrull telling Steve and Viper this ends with the warning that even if they escape, the invasion’s already over. They’ve already replaced members of every key organization around the Earth. Once they conquer the planet, makes themselves known and crush any resistance, any humans left will be kept alive to serve the Skrull Empire as slaves.

Captain America doesn’t let this deter him and goes with Viper to the next step in their escape, locating the other captured humans on the ship. When they free them, we get a look at members of different organizations prioritized as targets by the Skrulls. Some we already knew about, including an AIM scientist shown in the episode’s cold open, Mockingbird and Sue Storm, the Invisible Woman, kept sedated so she can’t use her powers. Others are newly revealed and noteworthy, including Henry Peter Gryrich, Cobra from the Serpent Society and SHIELD Agent Quartermain, who’s been a recurring presence in the series but such a non-entity that I haven’t felt the need to name him in these recaps until now.

The escaping Earthlings get intercepted on the way to the ship’s shuttle-bay by the Super Skrull, a Skrull soldier gifted with all the powers of the Fantastic Four. The conflicting allegiances of the escapees comes into focus during this fight. Some of them, like the AIM scientist and Cobra, would rather leave as soon as they hijack a ship and it takes Mockingbird to keep them there until everyone’s ready to escape. Steve’s willing to sacrifice himself in a fight against Super Skrull so the rest of them can make it out alive, but he gets saved at the last minute by an awoken Invisible Woman. While the escapees fly the shuttle back to Earth, Viper promises Cap that once the invasion’s successfully driven off, they’re back to being enemies.

The Skrulls left on the prison ship break the bad news to Veranke about the humans escaping, but the Queen sees it as a demonstration for what they can do to guarantee the success of their invasion. Like the true Captain America was able to band together members of the disparate groups imprisoned on the spaceship, they’ll use Skrull-Cap to convince humanity to submit to their empire.

Veranke’s not wrong to take that lesson away, since “Prisoner of War” gives Captain America his best showcase in the series so far. It gives us everything that makes Steve Rogers great; resilience, leadership, thinking his way out of a situation when his backs to the wall and improvising a new shield out of whatever’s nearby. Partnering with Viper in order to escape gives a glimpse into what lines Cap will and won’t cross in the face of certain doom. The promise of him finally reuniting with the other Avengers soon makes a promising note for his arc in this episode to end on.

Next time, the Skrulls begin the final phases of their Secret Invasion.

If you like what you’ve read here, please like/reblog or share elsewhere online, follow me on Twitter (@WC_WIT), and consider throwing some support my way at either Ko-Fi.com or Patreon.com at the extension “/witswriting”

#Avengers #Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes #Earth's Mightiest Retrospective #Wit's Writing #TV Review #Captain America #Marvel Comics #Marvel #superhero tv #superhero animation #animation #comics

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darkenedrosepetals · 6 years

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Worth

Fandom: The Walking Dead.

Setting: Alternative Universe, Fictional town, set in Georgia.

Rating: T (Unless noted differently in individual chapters)

Characters: Carol P., King Ezekiel, Jerry,Henry, Benjamin, Nabila, Sophia P. Some instances of Ed.

Summary: If someone were to tell Carol that her daughter's attendance at a summer camp, would forever change their lives, she would have laughed in their faces. Life wasn't in the habit of handing her fresh lemons. But as chance would have it, meeting the charismatic camp director was the best thing to ever happen to Carol.

Chapter One

The supermarket was empty that morning. For a summer morning in Loudaine, that was to be expected. Everyone hadn't stirred and wouldn't for another hour at most. Carol liked grocery shopping around this time. It was quiet and less hectic.

Carol readjusted her purse strap and headed toward the produce section. Sophia was close at her side with her hand on the cart, head turned, silently taking in all the sugary confections on the shelves.

"Mornin'," a man named Todd greeted. He was the early shift produce stocker. A friendly fellow, who was especially helpful to customers.

Carol smiled at him and stopped by the apple bin. She selected six apples, bagged and weighed them before moving to next thing on her list. She repeated this task until she had all the fruits and vegetables that she needed.

"Ew spinach." Sophia scrunched her nose. It was the first thing the girl had said since entering the store.

Carol chuckled. She knew Sophia hated spinach with a passion. Although, she found ways to incorporate it into her food, like blending it into pasta sauce or adding it to mac and cheese.

They turned down another aisle to grab bread for sandwiches. It was getting too hot to spend most of the day in the kitchen. Hot meals were typically reserved for dinner. When Ed was home from work.

Carol sighed and grabbed canned tuna. She wouldn't think about her husband. Not right now. She would focus on the freedom that at least grocery shopping afforded her.

The two of them finally turned down Sophia's favorite aisle. Carol snickered upon seeing the sparkle in Sophia's eye.

"Go ahead, pick one," Carol gestured to the wide selection of cookies.

Sophia raced to end of the aisle and grabbed a packet of Keebler stripes. One the way back she passed a boy who looked around her age. He was holding a packet of peanut butter Oreos and a packet of sugar cookies.

Carol remembered seeing the boy earlier in the aisle with boxed juice. She wondered where his parents were. He seemed to be confident on where to go and what to grab, so it was unlikely he was lost.

Again Carol checked her list for the umpteenth time to see if she had missed anything besides what remained. She rolled her eyes knowing she had to go to the liquor section for beer. She hoped they had what she was looking for. She couldn't go home empty handed and she didn't feel like store hopping to find it either.

Fortunately, the Red Dog was in stock. There were enough to get three cases. She loaded her cart and carefully rolled to the checkout lane. At the register, a young man was reading over the produce code list. Sophia began loading the lighter items on the belt, being mindful not to crush the eggs.

"Did you find everything alright?" The cashier inquired, scanning the items.

Carol read his name tag. "Yes Benjamin, I did." She was a regular customer of the supermarket so knew she the boy a was a new hire. Couldn't have been no older than seventeen.

Benjamin nodded and kept scanning. He bagged as he went, leaving the eggs and bread for last. He came around to scan the cases of beer that remained in the cart. He then placed all of the bags in the cart before ringing up the final total.

"Would you like to buy a bag of ice?" Benjamin asked.

Carol shook her head. She pulled a hundred dollar bill from her wallet. "No. That's okay."

Benjamin accepted the payment and quickly made the change. "I'll help put those groceries in your car. If that's okay?"

Carol smiled at the teen's politeness. Usually, she would have to ask for assistance. She nodded and moved on toward the door with Sophia by her side.

The boy from the cookie aisle was sitting on the bench by the door, with his purchased goods and a backpack. He looked up expectantly, making eye contact with Benjamin.

Carol didn't want to come across as noisy, but she was curious. When they were out of earshot she asked Benjamin. “Do you know that boy?"

Benjamin snorted. "Yeah. That's my younger brother Henry. He's waiting here at the store until our Dad can take him to the rec center. It's not open for another hour."

"I see," Carol stopped at her parked Jetta. She popped the trunk to give Benjamin access. She went around the side to open the door and to roll the windows down.

"Yeah our Dad works overnight, and doesn't get off until eight," Benjamin explained, loading the groceries. "It also so happens the rec center is on the way home. Having Henry already here at the market saves a trip."

"Makes sense," Carol agreed, taking some of the bags with the more fragile items to the backseat of the car.

Benjamin closed the trunk and took the empty cart. "You're all set, ma'am. Enjoy your day."

"Thanks, and you too."

On the way back home, they passed the recreation center. Outside, two of the counselors were pitching up the volleyball net.

Carol didn't miss the way Sophia perked at the sight. She could see from the rearview mirror the longing on her daughter's face.

The community recreation center hosted a yearly summer camp. It had an annual fee, that wasn't expensive per say but also wasn't an expense they had to spare. Although, if her husband stopped buying cigarettes and booze, they could afford it.

Sophia deserved to do something fun during her summer vacation. More than the occasional play date, and trips to the library.

The internal conversation was over-visited and was never presented with a solution. Just with a rebuttal as to why it would never happen.

Carol sighed. Yet another she needed to leave.

-----

At the Recreation Center

The volleyball tent was pitched and ready to go. Ezekiel swiped the sweat and reached for his water bottle. It was barely eight o' clock in the morning and it was already hot. He was too eager to return to the air conditioning of the recreation center.

In the gym, Jerry, his second in command, tested the recently pumped basketballs.

"Morning Boss," Jerry saluted. "Ready for the first day of camp?"

"Am I ready for hundreds of kids, nonstop chatter and plenty of mischiefs?" Ezekiel chuckled."Sure, I even have my lucky kicks on."

Jerry dribbled one of the balls. "Oh snap. Not the lucky kicks," he twisted and shot the ball into the nearest basketball net. The ball went in with a smooth 'swish'. "They're not gonna know what hit them."

Ezekiel's lips twitched into a smile. They shared this light-hearted banter throughout the day. It was how they kept their spirits high and the kids interested. Although, when the circumstances called for it, they were serious and professional.

"We've got about an hour before the first van arrives," Ezekiel announced. "I'll need you to assist Debbie with check-in." Debbie was one of the center's newest counselors, replacing Julie who was on maternity leave.

Jerry dipped his chin. "Sure thing."

Ezekiel exited the gym and next door to the cafeteria. Inside, the workers were adding items to the serving tables for breakfast. He scanned the room, searching for one woman in particular. He spotted Nabila rolling in a cart laden with milk crates. He quickly crossed the room to assist her with unloading the milk.

Nabila was the head of the kitchen and over the center's garden. She was also one of his longest-standing employee's since he became the director eight years ago.

"Oh, thank you," Nabila huffed once they were finished. She fanned herself and swiped at her forehead. "All this running around makes it feel like the air condition isn't on."

"Trust me, it is," Ezekiel assured her. His eyes fell to the newest member. "Everything going smoothly?"

"Yes, Lisa is a sweetheart. Very helpful and gets along with Kevin just as well. I think she'll do just fine," Nabila reported. "She's good at keeping inventory also."

"Excellent, that is what I like to hear," Ezekiel clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You stay hydrated now."

"Yes Sir, I will." Nabila grinned. She disappeared into the kitchen, no doubt to grab a cold bottle from the fridge.

Ezekiel chuckled. He left the cafeteria and walked down to his office. There were still matters that needed his attention. He had a very capable staff, even with the newest additions to the team he was confident things would go as planned.

-----

The idea came to Carol while she was stocking the deep freezer in the garage. She would pawn the two TVs given to them by Ed's brother Ross, her watch that was an anniversary gift from three years ago and the electric chainsaw that was still in the box from black Friday last year. Ed never used it. To be a matter of fact, she was sure he had forgotten all about it.

She checked the flyer that came with the town's newsletter, learning that late admission was acceptable. Given that today was Monday, the first day of camp, the late admission fee didn't start until next week. It was perfect.

Carol put her plan into action. She hadn't said a word to Sophia, wanting to surprise her instead. She loaded the TVs and the boxed saw into the car and all but sprinted to her bedroom. For the hundredth time, that day she was thankful Ed was at work. She grabbed the box that housed the watch and even grabbed the small studded diamond earrings. She never wore them nowadays anyway.

Sophia was sitting at the table reading when Carol returned. She glanced at her expectantly from her book. "Mom?"

"Come on, I've got an errand to run." Carol beckoned.

Sophia closed her book and stepped into her sandals, and followed her mother to the garage. She frowned upon seeing the backseat of the car loaded with the TVs. She slid into the front seat and buckled up.

The ride was short, but time seemed to slow to a crawl. A bunch of "what if's" were racing through Carol's mind. What if what she had to sale wasn't enough? Would Ed notice that the items from the garage were gone? How would he react? Some days were better than others.

Carol pushed aside those thoughts. She didn't need the negativity. Not when she hadn't even made it to the counter yet.

-----

At the pawn shop

"Three hundred and fifty for everything," Dale informed her, after examining the earrings.

Carol blinked. "Even with the TVs?"

Dale nodded. "They may be older models but they are in good condition." He chuckled and added. "I have customers that appreciate classic electronics."

Carol smiled. "All right."

Dale made the transaction, printing the receipt and counting the money owed. "Pleasure doing business with you Ma'am."

Carol tucked the money away in her purse. "Thank you so much." She turned on her heel, barely able to conceal her excitement.

Once in the car she released the breath she was holding and turned to a curious Sophia.

"Sweetie, would you like to attend the summer camp at the center?"

Sophia's eyes widened. "But you said it was too expensive?"

"I've got the money now," Carol started the car.

The realization dawn on the girl. "So that's why you pawned all those things? Won't Daddy be mad?"

Carol resisted rolling her eyes. She was sure Ed would be pissed. It wouldn't be the first time. "Don't worry about Daddy. I'm doing something for you, so he won't mind." Ed was more forgiving when she did things for their daughter.

Sophia was smiling now. "Okay."

#Carol Peletier #carol x ezekiel #carzekiel #King Ezekiel

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lokifiction · 6 years

Text

Relationship Status

It’s really no secret that the Avengers and Loki aren’t fans of each other, but when a seemingly invincible common enemy looms ahead, it is necessary that they learn to get along. However, it soon becomes quite clear that this will be no simple task.

Category: Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Notes: ...I know, it’s been forever since I’ve updated anything. I’m so sorry, guys. I feel absolutely terrible. My schedule is very busy, but for some reason this year it got away from me and days flew by without me even really realizing what was happening and this page kind of got put on the backburner. I’m really so sorry. I sincerely hope that this chapter makes up for the tardiness and that I do better in the future.

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Masterlist

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Chapter Seventeen: The Test Run

“What do you think a better theme for the dinner party would be? ‘A Night out in Paris’ or mythology?”

Loki raised a brow at me from where he was chopping vegetables for our lunch, giving me a vision of domesticity that surprisingly suited him well. “Where did mythology come from?”

I shrugged, absentmindedly stroking Henry where he laid on the counter in front of me. “It’s springtime. Every year when that time comes around, I always delve into my Persephone aesthetic. Besides, I’m kind of craving Greek food.”

“Alright, then.” Loki nodded agreeably. “Go with mythology. I admire Hades and wouldn’t mind portraying him for a night.”

I squirmed on my stool, halfway laying on the countertop, staring at Loki sideways. “Yeah, but I feel like the Paris theme is more formal and appropriate. And French food is good, too.”

“Then do that one.” Loki reached for a sweet potato, not looking up from his perfectly even slices.

“I can’t decide!” I whined. “Tell me which one you would genuinely prefer.”

“Both sound equally as wonderful, or as wonderful as a night with the Avengers can be.”

“You’re no help.” I slumped out of my seat and came around the counter to embrace him from behind, burying my face between his shoulder blades. “Please tell me.”

“Well, actually, I had an idea for a theme, myself.” Loki put his knife aside and turned to face me, resting his clasped hands at the small of my back.

“Really?” I bounced in his arms. “Tell me!”

“How about ‘An Asgardian Feast’?” He smiled with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “We could have Thor help us a bit, and give the Avengers a taste of the culture in Asgard so they understand us and our ways better.”

“Oh my god, Loki!” I squealed and reached up to kiss him in excitement. “That’s great! We have to do that one.”

“I’m glad you like it.” I may have been mistaken, but I thought I noticed a flush creep up on his cheeks. “It might be a bit difficult to procure all of the ingredients, and we may have to make some substitutions, but I already know of a few dishes that we could serve, as well as some ceremonial decorations we could make.”

“Oh, that’s genius!” I kissed him once more. “What would I do without you?”

“Your life certainly wouldn’t be as interesting, that’s for sure.” Loki playfully tapped my nose. I scrunched it in response and giggled before slithering out of his grasp and bounding towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he called after me, opening his arms as if commanding me to run right back into them.

“I’ve got a wonderful idea for the invitations,” I replied over my shoulder. “I need to get it down on paper somewhere before I forget. What’s the proper Asgardian address format again?”

***

“I hope that the wardrobe guide I sent with the invitations didn’t seem rude or snobby or anything,” I fretted, securing the final braid of my traditional hairstyle. “I just wanted them to really experience the atmosphere, and dinner parties usually have some sort of dress code, so…”

“I’m sure you came off just fine. Stop worrying yourself sick.” Loki came up behind me, zipping my dress and placing a tender kiss on my shoulder. “Do you want to go take a last-minute look at the decor?”

I heaved a sigh that was a mix of anxiety and relief. “Yes, please.”

Before we made our way into the hallway, I paused in front of the mirror, straightening my skirt and checking my appearance for any fixable flaws. I had chosen to wear a golden evening gown with a wide halter neckline, and I accessorized with heavy gold jewelry, including arm cuffs and golden rings that Loki helped me braid into my hair. Altogether, my outfit was an Earthly version of what was commonly worn to banquets in Asgard, and Loki had donned a simpler version of his armor for the occasion.

In the wardrobe guide I sent with the invitations, I advised our guests to dress similarly, and to place emphasis on a lot of leather, metal, and flowing fabrics, and sent Thor out with the task of helping them achieve that. Praying that everyone wouldn’t just show up in suits and make me and Loki look like fools in our otherworldly garb, I made my way to the kitchen, the smell of what I considered to be home filling my nostrils.

It had taken nearly an entire day for me, Loki, and Thor to put together a menu that would reflect traditional cuisine on Asgard with foodstuffs found on Midgard, and another several hours running around New York to collect all of the supplies. The spiced wine mulling on the stove fragranced the whole house and gave it the feel of autumn despite the fact that it was the middle of April, and the pork we substituted for boar had my mouth watering. The menu also included an array of baked fruits, a pumpkin soup, an apple cake, along with numerous other things, and I was glad that our guests would have no idea if the recipes were accurate, so I only had to worry about the dishes being delicious.

After fiddling with some settings on the stove and putting a loaf of bread in the oven to be warmed, I followed Loki into the dining room to perfect the setup one last time. Again, our decor for the night was a task that required hours in our storage room and another full day of shopping to gather everything we needed.

Our house had many places to dine in, but Loki and I usually ate in the breakfast nook or at a small, intimate table next to a window in the sitting room. However, for the event we had utilized our largest dining room, which boasted a table that sat eighteen with plenty of room to spare. All around the walls we had hung golden draperies to give the illusion of the inside of the palace of Asgard, and a similarly colored fabric was draped over the dining table, for the Victorian-styled piece didn’t reflect the boxy furniture found on Asgard.

From directly above the table we had removed our usual chandelier and replaced it with an antique one from medieval times, that when purchasing we nearly gave the curator a heart attack when we told her we were actually planning to use it. Loki went to light its candles and I straightened the ornate bowls of fat, red grapes and gourds that made up the table decorations. It turned out that it was nearly impossible to find gourds in the middle of spring, so instead of adding that to the list of our wild goose chase shopping trip, Loki merely conjured some, and made them particularly beautiful, with swirling vines that draped all the way over the sides of the table and curled onto the floor.

“This dinner party has me in trouble,” I murmured as Loki passed me to light the candles that sectioned off the table. “It’s got me in such an autumn mood.”

“I’m feeling that effect, as well,” Loki agreed, admiring at our handiwork and wrapping his arm around my waist. “Though I’d hardly call it trouble. You know that if we had our wish, it would be perpetually autumn.”

“Just with slightly warmer temperatures for me,” I teased, brushing imaginary dust off of one of the napkins resting atop the plates in their engraved holders. “Loki, are you sure I arranged the place settings correctly?”

“They’re perfect,” he assured, kissing my temple before breezing to the other side of the room. “Stop fretting and come sit down for a bit before the guests arrive and you get all fluttery again. You’re going to exhaust yourself if you don’t.”

“Oh, alright.” I frowned in compliance, but still had to approach the table to push one last plate a millimeter more into place. We had originally planned on using our Thanksgiving china for the event to match the decor, but after remembering that we wanted to replicate an Asgardian feast and not have an autumn fest, Loki and I decided to go out hunting for new dishes for the night. After even more searching and a hefty sum, we had gold-colored china and brassy flatware, as close to what could be found on Asgard as possible. I took one last critical glance at our little portal to another world before joining Loki in the sitting room, where we barely settled down into chairs before the doorbell rang.

My stomach dropped as I jumped to my feet, dashing to the landing to let the guests in, but they turned out to only be Stellan and his two younger brothers, Luca and Teo. Since Stellan was the only one outside of my family briefed on Loki’s true identity, and since his family owned a high-class restaurant in town that all three brothers had worked for at one point or another, Loki and I figured that they would be the best candidates to come and be our waiters for the night.

“Hello, Camryn!” he greeted with a wide grin, bending down to hug me. “The place looks really spectacular.”

“Thanks, Stellan.” I patted his back and waved to Teo and Luca. “Thanks for doing this on your night off.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure.” He reached down to pick up Bellatrix from where she was languidly rolling atop his shoes. “Bella and I go way back, so when I’m not waiting the table we can have some good catch-up time. And where’s Sir Henry?”

“He’s moping in our bedroom like he always does when we have company.” I rolled my eyes. “But if you guys’ll follow me to the guest bedroom, I have your outfits in there.”

On Asgard, servants typically wore arduous robes, but Loki and I made the express decision that even with the atmosphere we had created, the typical servant garb would look ridiculous. Instead, we procured sturdy brown pants and white tunics, along with some leather overlays that gave the effect we were aiming for.

As the boys were changing, the trio of lute players that we hired for the night arrived, and they set up in the corner of the dining room while I was briefing Stellan, Teo, and Luca on the dishes for the night and how to serve them. After one last meticulous sweep of the area of the penthouse we’d be entertaining in, Loki convinced me that there was nothing more that I could do, and urged me to sit next to him and wait for the first guests to arrive at last.

“Are you sure this dinner party is a good idea?” I worried, tugging at a hangnail with my teeth and shifting on the sofa.

“It’s a bit late to go back on that decision, isn’t it?” Loki replied with a raised brow, but rubbed my back reassuringly, tugging me closer to him and holding me tight to his side. “I’ll make sure everything is just fine,” he murmured against my temple.

When the doorbell rang, I sprang out of my seat once more, but Loki jumped in front of me before I could make another move, putting his hands on my shoulders and staring deeply into my eyes as he always did when he wanted to calm me.

“I’ll get it,” he insisted, squeezing my arms gently. “It’s likely just Thor. He’s coming early, remember?”

I nodded, letting out a breath and merely trailing along behind as Loki went to let his brother in. Thor arrived dressed in a simpler version of his ceremonial armor, much like Loki was, and bore a bottle of mead for the party.

“Don’t tell me this is one of the bottles you took from Asgard’s royal stores before you came to live on Earth,” Loki declared, popping the top off and peering inside.

“It is, and I only have three of them left, excluding that one.” Thor snatched the mead back. “This party had better be good, if I’m going to be giving up one of my precious remaining bottles of the finest Asgardian mead ever tasted.”

“Hey!” I protested, coming around from behind Loki and giving Thor a playful shove that, of course, didn’t even cause him to bobble in the slightest. “Are you doubting my skills?’

“Absolutely not, Camryn. I’m merely making a jest between brothers.” Thor patted my shoulder. “If I didn’t have faith that your party would be wonderful, I wouldn’t have brought the mead in the first place. The little I’ve seen of your show for tonight is fantastic, and I can’t wait to see more.”

“Thank you for saying so, but don’t scare me like that!” I reprimanded. “I’m stressed enough as it is.”

“My deepest apologies.” Thor cradled the mead like a baby. “Where might I put this? And where are the cats?”

“I’m throwing what might be the best dinner party of my life and all anyone cares about is the cats. I would scold you, but I relate.” I nodded my head towards the hall. “I’ll take you to put the drink in the kitchen. Stellan’s in there, so at least Bellatrix should be in there, too. You’ll have a contender for her attention tonight.”

“A most honorable challenge that I humbly accept,” Thor played along, bowing his head nobly.

Once Thor dropped his mead off and got his desired greeting from Bellatrix, I sent Teo off to answer the door and had Luca follow us into the sitting room with a tray of drinks, waiting yet again for the rest of the guests to arrive.

“Thor, they are coming, right?” I inquired, bouncing my leg up and down.

“They are, and I promise they’re not planning any tricks,” he assured, selecting a goblet of wine. “Relax.”

Loki rose from the couch and approached Luca, taking a glass and passing it to me.

“Everything will be fine, love,” he assured. “Besides, is anyone but the three of us going to be able to judge the accuracy of the night?”

“It’s not the accuracy I’m worried about,” I muttered into my glass, but took a sip and pretended to be pacified, sitting back and waiting for whomever our first true arrival would turn out be.

It ended up being Steve, who knocked on the front door at the exact arrival time listed on the invitation. Teo showed him into the sitting room, and Loki and I rose to greet him.

“Thank you so much for coming.” I gave him a slightly awkward hug and Loki shook his hand stiffly. “Why don’t you take a seat, and have some wine?”

“There’s no need to be so formal,” Steve assured with a chuckle, but obeyed my instructions nonetheless. “Your penthouse is amazing. Does it always look like this?”

“In the autumn,” I replied. “The current decor is special for tonight’s event, to really give the illusion of being on Asgard.”

“I see. Well, it’s really nice.” Steve took another once-over of the room, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I feel a bit underdressed, though. Thor and Loki are in their armor and you’re in that dress...The wardrobe guide you sent mentioned leather and neutral colors…”

“What you’re wearing is perfect,” I assured, appraising his dark brown pants and beige button-down, trying my hardest to resist the possessive embrace Loki pulled me into as Steve’s eyes passed over me.

“I’m glad.” Steve glanced at the clock on the wall. “Banner was right behind me, so he should be here soon.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the doorbell rang, and Teo entered the sitting room with Bruce in tow, along with Natasha and Clint. Luca served them their drinks and, seeing as most of our guests had arrived, I sent him into the kitchen to fetch the hors d'oeuvres.

“Clint and I were already going to carpool, and we met Bruce in the lobby,” Natasha explained before I could ask how the three of them ended up arriving together, plopping down on the sofa with her drink and straightening her beige gown. “You’ve got a really gorgeous place.”

“Thank you. That seems to be the general consensus tonight.” I fidgeted awkwardly, wishing I could sit but not wanting to do so with guests around. “Did you all make it here alright?”

“It’s a really easy ride from Stark Tower,” Bruce replied. He had dressed in a plain suit, though it was brown. “There’s a Metro stop less than a block away from here.”

“If you guys are all staying at the Tower, why didn’t you all come together?” I asked, noting the staggered arrival times and methods of our guests.

“Well, we knew Thor was coming early to help get things ready,” Natasha began. “Steve was the only one that left at a normal time. Bruce wanted to stay back to finish something in the lab, and Clint and I came straight from a mission.”

“Oh my god!” I exclaimed. “If you had to work tonight, you didn’t have to come.”

“Don’t be silly.” Natasha smiled warmly and took a sip from her glass. “We wanted to.”

“I’m glad we all did, because whatever’s cooking smells delicious,” Thor remarked. “When are we going to eat?”

“We have to wait until everyone gets here,” Loki spoke up with suppressed annoyance. “Does anyone have any idea where Stark is?”

“He left around noon to oversee some construction upstate,” Bruce replied, taking a bite from his smoked salmon crouton. “He should be back by now.”

“Oh, really?” Something bumped the back of my knees and I glanced behind me to realize that Loki had pulled up a chair for me. I settled into it and took my own crouton from Luca, and held Loki’s hand where it rested on my shoulder. “What kind of construction?”

Bruce exchanged a look with Steve.

“I don’t know the clearance level for that info,” Bruce explained, brow furrowed in apology.

“Oh, Norns.” Even though Loki was behind me, I could clearly sense his eyeroll. “More about those damned clearance levels.”

“Be nice.” I patted his hand. “You have clearance levels for your important dealings on Asgard, even if they aren’t necessarily mapped out.”

“Perhaps, but I’m accustomed to being the one at the top of those unsaid levels,” Loki rebutted.

Steve cleared his throat to catch our attention and spoke up, answering Bruce’s question. “They’re consultants and will find out about it eventually, so we might as well tell them now.”

“Are you building a Death Star?” I cocked an eyebrow, and Natasha leaned across where Clint sat next to her on the couch to reach Steve.

“The Death Star is from-”

“Star Wars, I know,” Steve interrupted with a playful eye roll. “I watched them last week.”

“Just looking out for ya, buddy.” Natasha patted his arm and sank back into her cushion.

“Anyway,” Steve continued, “we’re building a new Avengers home base upstate. We’ve sort of taken over Stark Tower, even though it’s still the functioning headquarters of Stark Industries, and the location in the middle of the city, while central to a lot of action, is leaving us exposed and vulnerable, with little space to grow.

“Around the new facility, there’s hardly any civilization for miles, and the land we purchased leaves seemingly endless room for expansion. We won’t have to coordinate space and scheduling with the Avengers team and the Stark Industries team, the environment will seem a bit more homey, and some of our new members will be better protected and contained from society there.”

“Well, that sounds interesting,” I replied. “I’d love to see it someday. If it’s out in the forest like that, I bet it’s beautiful.”

“It’s quite, as the mortals say, aesthetically pleasing,” Thor put in. “I feel very calmed inside the building.”

“And I’m sure you all need that, with all the high-stress work you do,” I said. “You should get Tony to put in a spa.”

Natasha laughed aloud. “That would be the best.”

Loki cleared his throat, reminding us all of his point. “But his business should be finished, correct? It was possible for him to be on time?”

“It should have been, yes,” Bruce replied.

“Well, where is he?”

“The fun is here!” As if on cue, Tony Stark burst into the room with an irritated Pepper on his arm.

“I’m sorry,” she lamented, rolling her eyes. “I couldn’t get him here any sooner.”

“I had to make sure I was at my best for this royal soiree.” Tony pointed to the tray Luca carried. “Is that salmon? Lovely.”

“Was there trouble on your way over here, Mr. Stark?” Loki asked, his voice dangerously cordial. Tardiness was not something he dealt with well.

“No, not at all. Traffic was great, weather was great. Everything was great.” Tony went for some wine and Pepper sighed heavily, covering her reddening face with her hand.

“Then why, might I ask, are you arriving so far past the time listed on your invitation?” Loki’s voice was a mere note away from being a growl. I reached for his hand to calm him.

“Well, you know how I like to make an entrance, and I wanted to make sure I looked impeccable, and worthy of what Camryn listed on that charming wardrobe guide,” Stark replied, gesturing to his outfit straight out of Game of Thrones.

“I’m amazed you took it that seriously.” I took a closer look at his attire, marveling at the fine craftsmanship. “Did you have that made?” “Sure did.” Stark patted his chest proudly. “I wanted to make something matching for Pepper, but she said it was too much.”

I noted Pepper’s stunning rust-colored evening gown.

“You both look amazing. Everyone here does, and I’m so thrilled that you’re all embracing the theme.” I rose from my seat and gestured towards the door. “I’m sure you’re all hungry. Since everyone’s arrived, should we proceed onto dinner?”

The group erupted into murmurs of excitement and began to file towards the dining room, but Loki gently held me towards the back of the herd and bent down to whisper in my ear once we were alone.

“I know our alliance is budding, but I’m absolutely infuriated at Stark’s behavior,” he ranted.

“I know you are.” I rubbed his arm. “But this is supposed to be a test run for the wedding, remember? We need to practice being civil even if something bothers us.”

“I understand, love.” He kissed the top of my head gently but insistently. “But if he tries to ‘make an entrance’ like that at our wedding, I’ll kill him.”

“Oh, believe me.” I took Loki’s hand and pulled him towards the dining room. “If he does that at our wedding, I’ll get to him first.”

When we entered the warm, candlelit dining room, I checked that every guest had found their place card and motioned for the musicians in the corner to begin playing. Luca passed out fresh goblets and Stellan entered with the first course as Loki and I made for the opposite heads of the table to deliver the toast.

“The music is a very nice touch,” Natasha praised, raising her glass in my direction. “I like it.”

“I’m glad you do,” I replied, then cleared my throat to address the room. “Welcome, everyone. I’m so honored that you’ve taken time out of your busy and important schedules to attend this party. Now, I know I’m usually the bridge between you and Loki, but tonight is another effort to make it so that a bridge is no longer needed. So, since our party is to replicate a traditional feast on Asgard, and he’s the one that actually grew up there, I’ll turn the floor over to him.”

Loki locked eyes with me and nodded once, clearing his throat before speaking, effortlessly capturing everyone’s undivided attention.

“Feasts are incredibly common on Asgard. To me and Thor, the spread before you seems an ordinary morning, midday, or evening meal. However, since this is a special event, I wanted to have a special banquet.

“There are many reasons for special feasts to be held on Asgard. A holiday, the returning of soldiers from war, a funeral, et cetera, but I decided that Camryn and I should host a dinner party best compared to a peacemaking or ambassador banquet, for often a major point of those dinners is to show off the culture of Asgard. That was the goal of the theme for tonight, and since every meeting between me and the Aveners is a peacemaking mission, I figured that no feast template could be better.”

Loki gestured to the corner where Stellan stood in his costume, now flanked by Teo and Luca.

“That young man over there is Stellan, and I’m sure you recognize Teo and Luca from earlier this evening. They will be serving you tonight. Now, I’m sure you’re all hungry, and the food smells incredible, so I will move right along with this introduction. Banquets such as this are almost always opened with a prayer to our gods, which is as good of a representation of Asgardian culture as anything, so I’ll get on with that.”

“Excuse me.” Steve politely raised his hand, ducking his chin sheepishly. “I thought you and Thor were the gods. What gods are gods supposed to pray to?”

“Excellent question, Steve,” Pepper interjected. “I was wondering that myself.”

“We pray to our ancestors in Valhalla,” Loki replied, a slight smile creeping onto his lips. “Even divine beings need guidance sometimes.”

“As for whom we pray to once we get to Valhalla, we have no idea,” Thor put in. “And we’re not sure we’d like to know.”

“The speculations we made when we were children only frightened us,” Loki added with a conservative grin. “Now, I typically pray to my mother, so it’s been awhile since I’ve recited a formal prayer like this, so forgive me if I make any mistakes.”

I bowed my head obediently, and I was happy to see that everyone else in the room did, too. I was a bit shocked that Loki revealed such a personal tidbit as coping with Frigga’s death to the room full of people, but I was glad to see him opening up.

Despite his warning, however, he recited the prayer perfectly as I knew he would. He didn’t pray in the traditional sense very often, but I loved it when he did, for the words spilled out of his mouth like beautiful poetry. His voice became melodic, and he often came closer to singing prayers rather than speaking them. I was completely hypnotized by the time he finished and continued the toast.

“Now,” he resumed in his normal cadence, “Asgardians are typically very bawdy and love their food, so the toast is kept short. To peace and friendship. May we make it and may it last.”

“To peace and friendship,” the room echoed, and as everyone drank from their glasses and took their seats, I got the feeling that, for the first time,everyone truly meant it.

***

Once the last course was cleared away and I felt incredibly bloated in the best way, I tapped on my glass with my knife to bring everyone’s attention. The sound wasn’t entirely necessary, for the conversation of the evening had been wonderful and typically involved everyone present at the party, but the action was something I had always wanted to do. Once Loki finished explaining the differences and similarities of Viking culture and that on Asgard and everyone’s eyes turned to me, I began my short speech of the night.

“Asgardian feasts are hardly ever just feasts,” I began. “As Loki said before, Asgardians are quite bawdy, and have a lot of energy, especially after being filled with wine. Feasts are typically affairs that last well into the early hours of the morning. Once the main meal is finished, there’s often dancing and singing and merrymaking, and a lot of the younger citizens will branch out to different taverns once the older attendees have retired. We, unfortunately, did not prepare for raucous activity, but to replicate the ever-changing scenery of an Asgardian banquet, we’ve decided to serve dessert and some of Thor’s Asgardian mead on the terrace.”

“He brought that stuff?” Stark gasped, dropping his hands onto the table, already a bit inebriated from the wine served with the meal. “Sign me up. Let’s go.”

With a giggle, I took my wrap from Loki and laid my head on his shoulder, leading the way out into the slightly chilly night air and onto the terrace that we had decorated just like we had the dining room, and lit with strands of fairy lights. Just like the New Year’s Eve party what seemed like an eternity ago, I felt like I had grown incredibly close to the people around me, and felt an enormous sense of kinship with them. I was sure that, like at the party, the effect was somewhat heightened by drink, but I felt that the new feeling was one that would stick around much longer.

The group gathered into seats around the fire as Thor distributed the drinks and Stellan passed out pieces of apple cake, and the conversation, which had been mainly centered around questions about Asgard, had no trouble picking up again.

“So, Loki,” Steve began, “you said that when boar is served at feasts, it’s usually been hunted and killed that day?”

“Yes,” Loki replied. “There’s no taste like freshly butchered boar, and unless there’s a siege in place, the royal family doesn’t eat boar unless it’s been killed that day.”

“Being royalty sounds like it’s worth it.” Natasha raised her eyebrows. “Thanks for explaining the whole boat symbolism thing, by the way. I never really understood it.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Loki smiled kindly, the mead making him a bit looser with his charms.

“This actually isn’t meant to be rude for once in my life,” Stark interjected, taking a bite of cake, “but do your horns symbolize anything?”

Loki actually laughed at that, and went on to explain without a complaint. After a long-winded speech about symbolism on Asgard that everyone’s drunkenness had turned into a stream of jokes by the end, Stark piped up again.

“I know it’s the drink that’s making me say this, but I think it’s important to be said.” He inhaled sharply. “Loki, after talking with and getting to know you tonight, I’ve decided that you’re not a bad guy. You’re different, for sure, but you’re not bad. You’re actually pretty awesome when you’re not trying to take over the world. I figured that you’d have to be to get a girl like Camryn, but now I really see it.”

“Thank you, Stark.” Loki squeezed my hand, and a small but genuine smile spread across his face. “Tonight, after getting to know you outside of the context of work, I’ve learned that you’re actually quite more brilliant and creative than I originally thought you to be. I may actually grow to enjoy your company, and dare I say, admire you.”

Stark put a hand to his chest, his next joke holding the tone of truth. “I’m so very honored.”

“I’d like to say something, as well.” Clint, who was usually so quiet but had become quite chatty and a jokester over the course of the night, stood from his chair. “Loki, I still don’t trust you. But if all of the people here that I trust with my life are growing to, I respect their decision. I feel that you’re deserving of it, and I think that someday I may come around on you.”

“Thank you, Clint,” I whispered as he returned to his seat, and for a few moments the only sound was the crackling of the fire as everyone processed the words that had just been exchanged, which bore the best kind of weight.

“It’s pretty late,” Bruce eventually said, voice cracking from the awkward breaking of the silence, “and I’ve had a lot to drink. I think I should go and make sure I can get a cab.”

“Wait,” I called out as he made for the door, then looked to Loki, silently asking for approval for what I was about to do. “Why don’t you...stay here?”

Bruce furrowed his brow. “Sorry?”

“Why don’t you all stay here for tonight?” I suggested shyly. “God knows we have enough room for all of you. I’m in the theatre tomorrow night, so I don’t have to go into work until later. We could make sort of a grownup sleepover out of it, and then go for brunch in the morning.”

Pepper cracked a grin. “That sounds like fun. Let’s do it.”

After everyone’s agreement, Loki and I dismissed Stellan, Teo, and Luca, and left Thor to entertain the group while we went to make sleeping arrangements for everybody.

“So, how about it?” I asked nervously as we stood in front of the linen closet, loading my arms with sheets, still in a bit of disbelief over what I had just done.

“You know, I’m actually feeling alright about it,” Loki replied, his bright eyes gleaming. “I’m still not too fond of the Avengers, but I think I might actually like them as individuals. I’m sure that, like at the New Year’s party, some of these feelings and progress are due to drink and will regress in the morning, I feel like they won’t regress as much as they did last time.”

“I’m so glad.” I dropped the sheets in my hands and hugged him instead, burying my face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent of leather and sandalwood and snow. “I feel like so much important progress has been made, too. I’m so proud of you.”

Loki pulled me closer, resting his cheek on top of my head. “I don’t think it will be a problem to have them at our wedding, now.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “We won’t have to worry about any fights breaking out or any trouble being caused. We can focus on nothing but each other, just as it should be.”

“That is, if your extended family can behave,” Loki teased.

“Hey, one thing at a time,” I quipped. “My family doesn’t have access to the arsenal that the Avengers do, so the Avengers took priority in terms of peacemaking.”

“But now that problem is solved.” Loki hooked his finger under my chin and tilted it up towards him. “And I’m glad for it. Truly. For the first time in our engagement, I can be completely excited about everything that’s to come with no worries about anything else. And it’s the most wonderful feeling in all the realms.”

Next Chapter

#loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x ofc #loki x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #loki laufeyson

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rewritingthestars · 7 years

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Pt. 1 of that conman/leverage au that I told myself I’d write a year ago but never did whoops

When Adam had gone to sleep after one in the morning, he hadn't planned to wake up until at least noon. Now though, with the insistent buzzing and electric music in his ears, he realizes that won't be the case.

He groans into his pillow, denying the inevitability of fully waking up to the last second before sighing and blindly reaching out for the phone on his bedside table. A second groan comes from behind him, the arm around his waist tightening, and Adam has a few seconds of imagining violence upon the man before finally snatching the phone. "One of these days you're going to be the one to pick up your own goddamn phone." The man snorts, pulling Adam closer to nip at his shoulder. "Not fucking likely." Adam shoves his boyfriend but doesn’t resist as he's pulled closer. Adam sighs, and mumbles something about not being a secretary before pressing the answer button. "Whoever this is better have a good reason for callin' at four in the mornin'." The person on the other end is silent for a moment and Adam contemplates hanging up before a voice tentatively speaks, "Ronan?" The voice is familiar enough to make Adam pause, "No, Ronan's," The man in question takes this moment to suck on Adam's neck, "a bit preoccupied at the moment." Ronan bites his neck and Adam curses his taste in men, "I-I can take a message if you’d like?" The person on the other end is silent again before saying, "Adam?" Adam frowns, pushing Ronan off of him to sit up, "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name." Ronan glares at him. "It's Gansey." Adams paranoia washes away with surprise and amusement. "Gansey? Gansey the third?" Ronan finally seems interested in the conversation as he rips the phone out of Adam's hand. "'The fuck you want dick? I’m retired now, an honest man," Adam snorts, "you can't arrest me for not doing crime." Ronan rolls his eyes at whatever Gansey says, "Just tell me what you want asshole, you get most people are sleeping at this time right?" Ronan suddenly grins, "Richard Gansey the third, are you offering me a job?" Adam raises his eyebrows. Ronan looks back at him, absolutely gleeful. "So you're finally playing our side? And here I thought I'd never see the day." Ronan tilts his head in question. "Hold on a sec." He puts the phone to his chest and raises a brow at Adam. Adam scowls. "We're retired." "C'mon Parrish, one more job." Adam groans, "You always say that." Ronan pulls Adam hand to his mouth to place a gentle kiss, "I mean it this time, one more job. C'mon, I can't be the only one curious about how dick's gonna run a con." Adam pauses. Hes going to say yes. He always says yes to Ronan. Adam wonders when he became so predictable and sighs, "One more job." Ronan shoots a fist into the air in silent triumph as Adam rolls his eyes. Ronan says, "Yeah we're in, text me the details later, and when I say later I mean at a less fucking ungodly hour you insomniac fuck." And precedes to hang up and throw his phone across the room in typical Ronan fashion. Adam presses closer to him, curling his body around Ronan's so he can rest his head on Ronan's shoulder. "This is going to end terribly." Ronan wraps his arm around Adam and puts his hand on his head to play with Adam's hair.

"Probably, but it’ll be fun." Adam presses into his hand, "You and I have very different definitions of fun." Ronan snorts, "Yeah and your definition of fun is working yourself half to death and worrying about every molecule of life." Adam pokes him in the ribs, "And your idea of fun is self destruction and danger." Ronan takes Adam's hand to bring it to his mouth again, "Your point?" Adam sighs, "Just be careful. Please." "I'm always careful." "Ronan-" "I know, I know," Ronan kisses his fingers, "I promise to be careful. I swear I wont let it be like last time." Adam can feel himself settle, his being calm,"That's all I ask."

France is as enchanting and beautiful as it is dull and boring. Or maybe that’s just Blue. Standing on a balcony of a five star hotel in Paris should be a dream come true and yet all Blue can think of is the bad feeling that rots in her chest. Blue scowls. This is stupid, to feel so terrible in such a magical place. Blue had hoped that the otherworldly and towering atmosphere of France would calm her nerves but if anything it's worsened them. She suddenly feels homesick. A year and a half. That's how long Richard Gansey the Third had quit his job at Greenmantle Insurance. A year and a half of silence. If Blue didn’t have better sources she would suspect him dead. Blue wishes she didn’t care. Spent the last year trying to convince herself she didn't. She had thought once she'd be joyful for his downfall. Now it just leaves her sick to her stomach. Blue takes a long gulp of the glass of wine in her hand and pushes her feelings aside. She came here to enjoy herself, dammit, and that was what she was going to do. But oh of course, that is when the phone rang. Blue stares at her cellphone that lays vibrating violently on the glass table next to her before sighing and picking up. "Hello?" "Hello Jane." Blues heart skips a beat. "Gansey?" "Is there another that calls you Jane? I feel rather cheated now." Several feelings conjured themselves in her being, mixing together in an array of relief and joy and anger and irritation.

"Are you shitting me? Where the hell have you been you asshole, I was starting to think you were dead." Blue tries to hold on to the anger. It's easier to focus on that than the fluttery feeling in her chest that has replaced the bad one. "Its has been quite some time since we’ve last spoken I admit, when was it exactly, Belgium four years ago?" "Three. Hong Kong.”

"Ah, of course, the two million dollar sculpture you stole." Blue scoffs, "It can hardly be counted as stealing when your security is just a pin and a fingerprint scan." "The law says otherwise." "What do you care for the law, it's not like your working for it anymore." Blue huffs. "Well, actually Jane, I have something I wanted to ask you." Blue’s cheeks flush. Three years ago Blue and Richard Gansey the Third kissed. After 3 years of fighting and chasing the other, after 3 years of stolen art and crime, after 3 years of Gansey never catching her, he kissed her in Hong Kong. She never got answers for that, as she went to Romania right after, and Gansey disappeared not even two years later. Her voice is softer as she says, "What was it you wanted to ask me, Gansey?" "I have this job that I'm currently taking control of, and I am in need of a thief." Blue promptly hangs up on him. Three years. Three years, and that was what she was waiting for? Embarrassment fills her before its replaced with anger. What else should she have expected from Richard Gansey the Third? Her phone starts ringing again and she had half the mind to ignore it before sighing and picking it up. "I can not believe I've been hung up on twice in one afternoon-" "God, Gansey, don’t start." Blue takes a breath, "I'm in." "Oh well that's- I mean to say-" Blue rolls her eyes fondly, "Tell me what the job is, asshole, before I change my mind." Blue can already see the heartbreak she's going to feel when whatever this is is over. For some reason, it seems worth it right now as Gansey rambles in her ear as though he never left.

Henry blearily looks at his computer screen as his fingers dash across the keyboard. His vision is swaying, his hands are cramping, and there's a vague ache in his gut that says he missed dinner. All signs of at least eight hours of reading and rewriting code that he's been forcing himself to complete. Henry sighs as he finishes the last of it and the money is transferred into several different accounts.

On some level Henry knows he shouldn't be so disappointed. He's a million dollars richer and so are three charities involving hurt puppies, environment conservation, and abandoned children. But the rewarding aspect hacking used to give him is.. dulled.

It's just that everything is too easy. The thrill and excitement that had pushed him to rob nearly two thirds of all the corporations in the country has evaporated as his skill level got better. The heart of the matter is, he is just too good at what he does.

And it's so boring. To the point where it's starting to feel more like work than anything else.

Henry stretches out his aching bones, popping out the locks that have stiffened his joints the last few hours.

Henry is just about to get up, maybe get a cup of instant noodles and watch a few reruns of Firefly before heading to bed when his phone went off.

Henry has to move three dirty shirts and an old record to find his phone before hastily picking it up.

"Uh, hello?"

"Good evening. Would this be, by chance, Henry Cheng?"

Henry is already on his computer, trying to ping the location of the caller. "And if it is?"

"Ah, this would be a good time to introduce myself, no? My name is Richard Gansey the Third, and I believe I have a job for you, if you are interested?"

Henry pauses typing, slouches back in his chair, not bothering to stop the grin that's taking over his face. "Considered me very interested, Mr. Gansey the Third. Tell me, how has the city been treating you?"

There silence on the other end for a moment. "I suppose I should have expected that, from the world's greatest hacker. Did you trace the call that quickly?"

Henry laughs. "Are you kidding? I've had tabs on you since you nearly caught me. Good job, by the way, you're the only one who's gotten that close."

There's silence on the other line once more. "Pardon me, you've had tabs on me for two years?"

Henry just grins. "What's the job, Richard?"

"A gentleman has contracted me and the team I bring in for an information retrieval job."

Henry tries not to be disappointed. "Oh?"

"On Greenmantle Insurance."

"Oh." Henry says, smiling. "Only one more question then; when do you want me?"

#trc #pynch #bluesey #conman au #leverage au #everyones a criminal #besides noah #hes a bartender #my writing #My fic

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metawitches · 4 years

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In Snowpiercer episode 4, Sean’s murder is solved, Josie visits 3rd Class, Andre visits 1st Class and Melanie pulls out her bottle of poisoned sake. Andre and the writers go with the “Lolita made me do it” murder defense to explain why a trained soldier killed several people.

This is a disappointing development for Snowpiercer. No matter what layers and nuances the show might add to the scenario later, a young woman has been publicly blamed for provoking the crimes of her abuser. This is an abuse tactic in and of itself.

Recap

Jinju provides tonight’s opening monologue. As she speaks, she prepares a meal of sushi for herself and Bess, starting with gutting the fish and ending with the two lovers toasting each other over beautifully presented food.

Meanwhile, Erik finishes slaughtering Nikki and lovingly examines his handiwork. Presentation also matters to him. He takes care of his appearance, and Sean’s corpse was certainly presented in a very specific way. Nikki’s is as well.

Poor Nikki Genet. The actress spent all that time in the makeup chair and her character’s life was snuffed out before she could share her secrets. Snowpiercer is a big ole fridge.

The dead, bloody fish are juxtaposed with the dead, bloody woman (after Bess was juxtaposed with the cow in another episode) and then the two women eating the fish. Meat eating is equated with cannibalism and women again. This time violence against animals and violence against women are overtly linked. Hello, Vegetarian Ecofeminism.

Jinju”s voiceover: “Adapt. That’s what humans do, isn’t it? Our great leg up. We roll. We hack. Knuckle down and change. Even Snowpiercer is an adaptation. That was classic Wilford. While the world froze and the other mega-rich tried to hole up in bunkers or upload their consciousness, Mr Wilford dusted off his train set. Snowpiercer is his system. Systems resist change, even without their maker. I’m just a scientist. I’m here to save the world. Not change it. I know our chances at surviving are slim at best. All I can do about that is provide small moments of happiness on Snowpiercer, 1,001 cars long.”

I forgot to mention the knives. So many bloody knives on this train. Jinju’s knives and Erik’s knives and the butcher’s knives. Two of those three are definitely murderers. I think Jinju is indirectly a murderer by creating and cooking the suspension drug and the kronole. I suspect that one of the ways she’s found to spread a little happiness is by making and selling kronole.

We return from the opening credits to nighttime in Melanie’s cabin, where she’s working at her desk. Ben knocks and enters. He tells her she’s working too hard and he needs her to take better care of herself. The train depends on her too much for her to overwork herself into illness. Melanie appreciates his concern. He also wants her to ask for help more often.

He means he wants her to learn to delegate more responsibilities, but she asks him to peel her tangerine instead. Control freaks never change. As they share the orange, he asks if she’s found a workaround for the lost cow methane. She has. She’s going to replace it with goat farts (goat methane). They joke that her MIT degree is really paying off. So is her degree from Yale Engineering School.

Later we’ll discover they’re wasting human methane down on 3rd Class.

Melanie has a map of the world on her wall and has written notes on her wall, all around the map, but I can’t make them legible. The map is some kind of polar projection perspective, maybe of Russian origin. The opening credits show Snowpiercer’s track following the outline of the continents (screencaps of opening credits in commentary section). This map makes it easier to see how the continents could be connected by tracks at their closest points.

Roche wakes Andre up to deal with Nikki’s murder. Melanie gets the call telling her that Nikki is dead.

Jinju and Bess linger in bed after spending the night together. Jinju wants Bess to walk her to work, but Bess feels weird about it, because there’s a stigma among Thirdies about dating uptrain. Bess thinks that Jinju doesn’t understand, because 2nd Class can swing in either direction, socializing with 1st or 3rd Class, while the other two classes are segregated among their own kind.

Jinju says they need to put aside old differences, like being from Detroit and San Francisco, and new ones, and start over in what’s left of the world. Then she gets the call from Melanie telling her that Nikki is dead. She answers using her official title, Agricultural Officer.

Melanie finds Klimpt sobbing on floor. After a few words of sympathy, she charges him with redeeming himself by discreetly moving Nikki’s body, then helping with the autopsy in order to obtain essential postmortem data.

She says, “Do you understand what I’m asking you? Will you do that for me, Henry?”

That sounds like she’s asking him for more than observations about how Nikki was murdered. She wouldn’t sound so secretive about forensic data for the case. Does this have to do with “the other work” she mentioned to Jinju?

Andre heard their conversation, but doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he asks Melanie why she didn’t make an arrest last night, when he gave her the killer’s description. Melanie says she was waiting until morning.

Bess realizes that the borders between classes have been closed all night, since the fight. Andre says that the killer is from 1st. He must have left the fight early to follow Bess and Nikki back to the Drawers, then gotten stuck downtrain overnight when the borders closed. He wouldn’t have had time to get uptrain. Melanie agrees that he must still be in 3rd.

Erik has been in the 3rd Class dining car for hours. When the restaurant switches to breakfast, he moves on, leaving a couple of 1st Class drink tokens behind.

Grey, Ruth, Roche and Till take over the Night Car to develop their strategy for searching for Erik. Roche is either equal to or in charge of Grey. Right now, he’s giving orders to the jackboot commander. Grey and Ruth try to get Andre sent out of the room when Melanie brings him in, so that he doesn’t pick up more details about the train.

Andre argues that he should be involved since he’s the one who obtained the killer’s description. Grey doesn’t want him going to 1st Class either. Andre and Melanie agree to question 1st Class together once the others are busy with the search for Erik.

Andre: “You have to clear that with Mr Wilford, or is that your call?”

Melanie lets Grey know that she decides whether Andre is allowed in 1st Class, not him, and tells Ruth to wake up everyone from 1st who was at the fight. Ruth doesn’t like the idea of upsetting the Firsties. Andre can’t believe she’s more worried about the comfort of the Firsties than finding the serial killer.

Grey will start at the Tail end of the train and Roche will start at the front of 3rd. They’ll do a thorough search and sweep, meeting in the middle at Ag Sec. The subtrain is still closed to all non essential personnel, but Grey will send an extra unit down anyway.

Roche sends Till and Oz to start the search. She’s shocked that Oz hasn’t been suspended for dealing kronole, but Roche maintains that they need everyone for this operation, so she and Oz will have to work out their differences on their own. (Her real problem might be that he ran from the Tailie rebellion, leaving her to be held hostage.)

Commander Grey, with his baton placed like a firearm to signal that he’s a predator on the hunt.

Note the optical illusions caused by the decorative trim at the top and bottom of the image. Miss Audrey has animal furs nearby. She’s dangerous in her own way.

Miss Audrey, dressed in widow’s weeds, makes her entrance down the grand staircase. She shoots Andre a look and he follows her into a private room to speak alone. But alone is never alone on the train, so this is still a coded conversation.

They speak in a padded room. Y’all know padded rooms are normally reserved for the severely mentally ill, right? Maybe some people need the private room experience more than others. Maybe on a super emergency, wearing a straight jacket so they don’t hurt themselves, type of basis.

Once they get in the room, Daveed Diggs and Lena Hall have so much chemistry together it’s ricocheting off the padded walls. It makes me wonder if the characters knew each other before the train. The way the scene is staged and shot is classic film noir, which generally means things are being hidden from the audience and probably from at least one of the characters, though I tend to think these two are co-conspirators hiding their plot from everyone out in the club.

The two circle and pace around each other as they speak, testing whether they can trust each other and whether one or the other is going to attempt to assert dominance, since this is the first time the two leaders have been alone. They’re on Audrey’s territory, but Andre is a man, physically larger and currently has Melanie’s ear. He could be a spy and he could assert physical or sexual dominance. He does neither and shows Audrey respect instead by showing her he values her opinions.

Remember this moment later for his conversation with LJ. He works to earn Miss Audrey’s trust and respect.

By the end, they’ve found at least a temporary sense of balance and trust, so they stand face to face and speak intimately. She gives him a bit of information about Melanie- that she never visits the private rooms. That means Melanie’s needs for intimacy are being met elsewhere, revealing a potential source of information, blackmail and a hostage if it comes down to it. Audrey also tells him that she’s sure there aren’t any leaks among her people. She agrees that Nikki’s death has the Thirdies riled up, but tells him he still needs to move cautiously toward engaging them in a full on revolution.

When Melanie enters, Audrey snaps at her to distract her from wondering what they were talking about. It’s a gutsy move toward the boss who allocates supplies and assigns people to jobs. Maybe Audrey has more on Melanie than she admitted to Andre. Or maybe the Night Car and Audrey are just that essential to the continued functioning of the train.

Andre: “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Miss Audrey: “If the killer’s from First, they’ll only let you get so far, and there won’t be any justice for Nikki.”

Andre: “How’s Third gonna take that? Both victims are theirs.”

Miss Audrey: “That remains to be seen, Detective.”

Andre: “Now that I’ve got a sense of what you do here, I thought you might have a take on it. You know people, high and low. You know their secrets.”

Miss Audrey: “Strict confidentiality. It’s assured in the Night Car.”

Andre: “I appreciate that. Melanie Cavill ever have a session?”

Miss Audrey: “That would be confidential- if the answer wasn’t no- she’s never shown herself like that.”

Andre: “Maybe now she’ll have to. Think Nikki’s death could be a catalyst?”

Miss Audrey: “Catalyst for what?”

Andre: “From what I hear, a lot of workers are pretty fed up.”

Miss Audrey: “You need to step carefully Detective, but, many of us do want change.”

Melanie knocks on the door and enters: “We’re waking First. Audrey, I promise I’ll do everything I can…”

Miss Audrey interrupts her: “Cut the BS, Melanie. You have my support, Detective.”

Miss Audrey leaves the room.

Melanie: “I’m holding the subtrain.”

Andre: “Not a lot of downtrain faith that the powers that be actually want to solve this thing, now that the suspect’s from first.”

Melanie- “I want it solved. And it doesn’t matter which class the suspect is from. Let’s go.”

He tipped Melanie off that he knows she’s Wilford, so she isn’t even bothering to hide that she’s in charge anymore. It must be a scary relief to be honest for once. She says she’ll make sure the murder is solved, but that doesn’t mean she’ll make sure anyone other than Erik, who’s not really a Firstie, is taken down. Or that she’ll delve into the reason why Sean was killed, if she can simply say that Erik was a serial killer who chose random victims.

The Tailies examine the blue chip and discuss what to do with it first and how far forward it will get them. They decide to have one of the sanitation crew use it to leave their breakroom during lunch. One of the Tailies who made the apprenticeship program early on, Astrid, now works making their nutritional bars. If they can make contact with her, they can set up a communication system and contact Andre.

Since Big John is becoming too sick to work, it’s decided that Josie will take his place and use the chip. She’ll blend in more easily than one of the more familiar guys on the crew. Lights wraps Josie’s arm with a cloth bandage, hiding the chip inside.

When the jackboots call for the sanitation crew, Josie joins them. They give her the eye, probably looking forward to the show when they make the crew strip naked and hose them down with cold water. They do this before the sanitation work, possibly trying to stop the Tailies from bringing parasites forward into 3rd, but maybe just as a humiliation tactic.

Melanie walks Andre through a corridor lined with some of the most valuable paintings in the world. Andre is openly disgusted by the greed and hoarding this corridor shows. It’s clear that the lower classes aren’t visiting the museum.

Melanie: “Layton, I was born on a dirt farm in Eastern Pennsylvania. I came from nothing. I know a thing or two about class. That anger that you feel, when you look at all of this? It’s justified. Let’s use it. Whoever the killer is, First is going to protect their own, so you be their worst nightmare from the Tail. I’ll do the rest.”

He takes one more look around, then follows her into the First Class dining car.

At first I thought Melanie might have made up her rags to riches story, but watching how fiercely she says the lines, I think she was serious. She hates the Firsties as much as most of the rest of the train does, but they are part of the order of the train and thus a necessary evil. It would be too disruptive to force them to change, so she tries to keep them under control. I don’t think she was as upset by the loss of the cows as Jinju, since she replaced their functions quickly and the train can be repaired.

But that story was unprecedented honesty about herself from Melanie. It feels like a spider weaving a web to trap an unsuspecting fly. Miss Audrey was right about being cautious. There is an unprecedented level of theatre going on for the rest of the episode, amongst Melanie, Andre, LJ, her parents and the side players. Each has their secrets and goals and is steering the conversation accordingly.

There aren’t many people in the dining car, but a breakfast buffet has been laid out. Andre stalks in, announcing that he doesn’t care who any of them are, but he knows one of them has a thing for chopping off 1st Class male appendages. LJ springs to attention the moment he enters. Now she laughs out loud. She’s been waiting for someone to become her parents’ worst nightmare for the last 7 years.

Andre eats from a serving utensil and speaks with his mouth full. He complains to Ruth that some of the fight spectators are missing. York complains that getting them out of bed for this is uncalled for. “No one from 1st Class has ever been charged with a crime.”

York doesn’t see the irony in his statement.

Andre tells York that he should thank Melanie for his luck so far, but Mr Wilford is taking a different approach this time. Melanie confirms it when Andre points to her.

He asks where the bodyguards are. No one answers.

He asks Ruth how many arms she’s taken in the Tail. When she doesn’t answer, he tells her- 14. That would 13 in the Year 3 Rebellion and Suzanne’s in episode 2. He asks her again, this time in a more serious tone of voice, “Where are the bodyguards?”

Hospitality Deputy Ruth, while wearing her uniform, says in all seriousness, “I didn’t invite the help.”

LJ: “Erik didn’t come home last night.”

Melanie: “He didn’t?”

Robert (Lilah may be the Queen of 1st Class, but Robert is still the King, where the buck stops and the hammer falls.): “No. He asked to leave the fight early and when we came back, he wasn’t here.”

Sharma: “You knew he was missing and didn’t tell us?”

Melanie: “Tell Roche Erik’s a suspect.”

LJ: “He has his gun, too.”

Robert and Lilah: “LJ!”

LJ: “What? I saw he had it with him last night.”

Andre: “He has his gun? There are no guns allowed on the Snowpiercer.”

Sharma: “Our security was allowed to keep their sidearm.”

Andre: “The rest of us were disarmed to keep you safe. I’m going to need to see Erik’s quarters.”

I’m not clear how much of what Andre, LJ and Erik do for the rest of the episode is preplanned and I don’t know if Andre really didn’t know about the guns or not, but he uses this as a turning point. Erik’s been wearing his gun in a thigh holster and visiting 3rd Class all season, so bodyguards with guns should be common knowledge on the train, all the way back to the Tail.

This is my interpretation of what we’re shown.

Lilah refuses to allow Andre into their car. He certainly won’t be searching through their things. She demands to speak to Mr Wilford, on behalf of everyone in First Class. LJ is extremely amused by her parents discomfort.

Melanie looks uncomfortable, but she goes to the phone and pretends to call Mr Wilford. Ben answers and realizes that they’re pretending he’s Mr Wilford again, so he plays along. Melanie explains the situation to Ben/Wilford. Lilah stands her ground until Melanie holds out the phone to her, then she backs down and agrees to let Andre into the Folgers’ car, as long as Melanie is present.

Melanie tells Ben that his services aren’t needed after all. He says, “I miss you, Mel.” She says, “Thank you for that.”

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Erik walks through the Chains, throwing off observers, until he finds the storage space he uses as his hiding place when he needs a break from the Folgers. He goes inside and puts his gun on a crate that also has candles on it.

The sanitation crew, which today includes Josie, Santiago and Last Australian, is brought into their horrifically toxic break room for lunch. It’s so filled with methane from the human waste they work with that the jackboot who escorts them wears a gas mask. It’s awful for them, too, but they’ve grown grown used to living in unlivable conditions, so they push through it. The crew has hidden anything they could scrunge in the cracks and crevices of the room. They pull out pajamas for Josie to change into from her sanitation uniform. It’s the middle of the night, so they figure the pajamas won’t be so noticable. The chip works, so she’s off to find the 3rd Class dining car and Astrid.

In the Folgers’ car, Andre tosses Erik’s sleeping area, rifling through the pages of every book and dumping out every container, then dropping them on the floor, like every TV cop ever. Though he’s quiet and polite as he works, Lilah and Robert are still put out. LJ offers him a beverage. He declines.

Andre notices a framed photo of Erik when he was a Marine. He asks what else they can tell him about their bodyguard. Robert says all they know about him is that they hired him to keep them safe and he did. LJ adds that he saved her life, but Lilah tells her, “It’s not pertinent.”

Wow, he lived with them for 7 years and the adults are going to play it like he was someone they barely knew and had no feelings about. Cold.

Andre finds a flat, squared off tool with a sharp edge. LJ says that it’s a J-hook, used for beekeeping. Erik found it and showed it it to her. She has a defiant look now. Ruth realizes that it’s from Snowpiercer’s old hives. Melanie explains that they used to keep bees until they died from colony collapse 3 years ago. Then the beekeeping supplies were packed up and put into storage. Andre asks them to send Till to find the crate the J-hook came from. While Melanie calls Till, Ruth takes Lilah and Robert into the living room to discuss their strategy for making sure this doesn’t affect the family’s reputation.

Josie sits down with Astrid as she’s eating a bowl of porridge in the dining car. Astrid is thrilled to see her. Astrid is in Food Processing, where she cuts and loads the bars, but she doesn’t have access to ingredients. She tells Josie that Andre is working as a detective, trying to solve a murder.

Josie explains that they want Astrid to make contact with him. She knows that Astrid could get sent back to the Tail for helping them, but they need her. Josie gets distracted by seeing the sun and the mountains outside. Astrid calls her back. They agree that they are OneTail. Astrid gives Josie her bowl of porridge.

Andre finds a stash of Erik’s photos and notices that he doesn’t come from a privileged past. LJ says he had a tough childhood. Andre asks LJ if she thinks Erik is capable of these murders. She replies, “Maybe. He sure wasted those rioters who tried to grab me on the way to Snowpiercer.”

Andre: “Is that when he saved your life?”

LJ: “He joked about being cold-blooded. Born for The Freeze.”

In the other room, Robert and Lilah assure each other that Erik’s actions don’t need to reflect badly on them. And Erik’s actions certainly weren’t their fault. But Lilah is concerned about the resulting track talk.

Robert: “Over the years, we learned that as a private soldier, Erik did things. That’s what he’s for. Not psychotic murder.”

Lilah: “It can’t come off like we have sheltered a monster.”

It seems clear who the monsters are. But we’re just getting started. It’s not enough to dehumanize the man they lived with for 7 years into a killing machine meant for their personal use. They intend to throw their daughter under the bus, too.

Meanwhile, Andre asks LJ if Erik ever got aggressive or weird with her.

He must have had some amazing sensitivity training back at the police station that led to him using that kind of specific language with a young woman whose best friend and bodyguard has turned out to be a serial killer. With Melanie the judgy ice queen sitting next to him.

Where’s the guy who was so effective with the Tailies after their rebellion? He takes the opposite approach with LJ, poking at her wounds so she’ll shut down and reveal as little as possible rather than making her comfortable so she’ll talk.

In addition to the other complexities of this situation, he doesn’t want her to reveal anything to Melanie that would compromise the revolution. I believe Erik was working for all of the sides on the Train: He was Melanie’s spy and hitman, the Folgers’ bodyguard and drug runner and an occasional rebel Tailie agent as well. Since LJ was with him so much, she knows much more than she even realizes she knows. And she clearly knows a lot.

LJ glances over at Melanie, then moves to the other side of the room and asks if they really don’t have windows in the Tail. Two can play the embarrassment game, Detective. She opens a shade, letting the light pour in, watching for his reaction, in the same the way he and Melanie are staring at her, watching for her every reaction. In the same way she’s been stared at as a Firstie every time she’s gone downtrain for the last 7 years.

But maybe it’s also an invitation to let some light in on her family’s life and on the activities of First Class.

Before she opens the shade, Andre tells her that most of the people in the Tail haven’t seen the sun in 7 years and asks how that makes her feel. She says that they didn’t have tickets.

Touché. It’s unfair to put the weight of the political system of the train on a child, especially one he doesn’t know, and that political debate has nothing to do with what’s happening to her family right now. It’s his issue, which he’s forcing into this moment because he’s not really investigating a murder. He’s prosecuting a war.

And Melanie is standing right there.

Andre has no idea who LJ is inside and he’s not giving her any reason to show him. If anything, he’s encouraging her to hide behind the walls Erik built around her. Andre doesn’t care about LJ at all, and she can see that. He only cares about what she can do for him. He’s another man who’s interested in using the Firstie princess, like everyone else on the train.

LJ didn’t choose to get on the train or to be a 1st Class passenger. She was forced into her situation and is now trying to cope with her own lack of power or options for the future. She’s just lost the only friend she had who’s showed her loyalty and who wasn’t ancient by her standards or separated from her by class. Everyone else is much older or younger or in the lower classes, and they won’t accept her, as Bess told us earlier.

Where does that leave LJ? Erik was her abuser, but he was all LJ had, in many ways. Her parents are terrible and she probably hates them. Her life is a dead end. Like everyone on Snowpiercer, she has very good reasons to be depressed and even suicidal.

Melanie reminds LJ that Andre asked about her relationship with Erik.

Andre: “Did he tell you things or ask you to keep secrets?”

Andre is asking LJ this to determine whether she knows details about the murders, but these are also standard behaviors for abusers, especially pedophiles. A yes answer would almost certainly mean that Erik was having an inappropriate relationship with LJ, and that he pushed her to keep it to herself.

Andre is toying with LJ’s emotions, trying to box her into a particular corner.

LJ goes wide-eyed, then shifty-eyed, then glances at Melanie and moves to sit down. She doesn’t look straight at either of them the whole time. Finally, she refuses to talk about it. It’s clear the answer is yes, he asked her to keep secrets.

Andre uses a nod of his head to ask Melanie to leave the room. She joins Ruth and the Folgers, asking about LJ’s relationship with Erik. She picked up on their abusive sexual relationship.

But she left LJ alone in the room to be questioned by a strange man anyway. This is a terrible scenario for getting the information they want from LJ. Now she’ll be triggered rather than feeling more comfortable speaking about her abusive, traumatic memories. Normally, you’d want to bring in a young, warm female officer like Till, who LJ could relate to more easily, to do the questioning, not a large man who’s purposely been using threatening techniques.

I believe Andre wanted LJ to be triggered, so that she’d be disoriented enough to go along with his plans for her without thinking them through.

Astrid leaves Josie in a corridor near the breakroom. After they hug goodbye, Josie turns around and sees Miles, now renamed Christopher, walking past another mysterious server farm with a strange woman. He’s telling the woman that his mother would understand. They disappear into a room and don’t notice Josie.

Santiago is panicking in the breakroom, since Josie’s time is almost up. She slips back in with seconds to spare. Her friends help her with a quick clothing change. When the jackboots return to send them back to work, they don’t notice anything amiss.

Bess and Oz are sent to the Chains to search for Erik in the beehive storage closet. He’s still there when they find the closet, but he escapes through the ceiling and leads them on a chase throughout the car.

LJ tells Andre that Erik, who is mixed race, hated his white dad, but he brought some of his father’s old records on the train. While she’s putting one on the player, a cat jumps on the couch and startles Andre. He hasn’t seen one in 7 years. LJ explains that Erik saved Snowpeter’s life, too.

Smuggling the cat on board shows that Erik doesn’t torture animals, one sign of someone who is a psychotic, unfeeling killer. It also shows that he cares about more than the upper classes, unlike most of the Firsties. Since the cat was smuggled on by one of the lower classes to save his life, rather than brought on as a Firstie’s pampered pet, he’s symbolic of the ticketless passengers and shows LJ’s true feelings about them as well.

Andre might still take Snowpeter’s presence as a symbol of 1st Class excess, if he’s never had a mouse problem. We know there are rats on the train and if anything survives the Freeze, it’ll be the mice, rats and cockroaches. Cats are essential.

She plays Bobby Vinton’s Sealed with a Kiss and slow dances as she sings along: “Though we’ve gotta say goodbye for the summer, baby, I’ll promise you this, I’ll send you all my love in letter, sealed with a kiss.”

For the rest of the scene, she acts in a sexualized manner, something we haven’t seen from her before, in actions or dress. She thinks Andre wanted to be alone in the room with her in order to perform sex acts, like he did with Zarah in the Night Car, and Erik and did with her. (The train is a small town with a large rumor mill.)

So, she puts on Erik’s sex music and dances for Andre like she did for Erik. Erik may even have been prostituting her out, with or without her father’s blessing, on their trips to the tail. The “Blue-Eyed Firstie Girl” would draw a good price.

LJ brings up the Tailie cannibalism story. She thinks it’s a good story, because it makes everyone scared of Andre. She’d eat someone to make everyone scared of her, the way they are with the Tailies.

She totally called him on that story. That’s exactly why he told it to Till and Pelton during Sean’s autopsy. Till has been busy creating the Legend of the Tailie Detective, just as Andre planned.

Andre thinks about what she said for a minute. She’s given him an opening he can use to to exploit her for his own purposes. He makes his decision.

“I know this song. So did Nikki Genet.” He tells her he recognizes what she’s saying. He’ll insert her into his official story of the crimes Erik committed.

LJ: “You know, you’re a lot cooler smashing the system than you are being Wilford’s dick.”

(This is about more than just the murders. Erik wasn’t just a hitman with a flare for gruesome crime scenes.)

Andre (chuckles): “Well, maybe we can do both.”

(He understands that. Next he offers his plan and where she fits in it.)

Andre, holding out the J-hook: “Erik ever tell you what he did with this?”

By asking her what Erik did, he’s admitting he knows she’s innocent and putting the ball in her court for a moment. This is her chance to back out and tell him straight out that she had nothing to do with Erik’s crimes. Or they can build a story that includes her in the murders, so that Melanie can’t sweep Erik’s death and all the others under the rug.

LJ gets a sly look on her face. She understands what he’s doing.

Cut to Lilah saying “Never.”

Lilah acts like a mother for once and confesses LJ’s innocence for her, but it remains unheard.

Lilah tells Melanie that Erik practically raised LJ.

He cared about her in his twisted way and probably didn’t involve her in the murders or describe them to her. If she was the Bonnie to his Clyde, it was only after she was extensively groomed. The episode makes the case that Erik wasn’t born a killer either, he was turned into one by the abuse he suffered as a child, his military training and experiences and the oppression he suffered.

Robert insists to Lilah that they tell the truth, because it will come out anyway. He admits that “Erik and LJ are close”.

Robert: “I can’t say no to her. It’s these times. Morality is a moving target.”

After blaming Erik for following orders when told and/or paid to commit violent acts, Robert now admits that he gave a violent adult man permission to have sex with his young teenage daughter under his own roof. Then he blames his teenage daughter and society for his inability to say no.

Robert is a sociopath.

He generally lets Lilah take the fall for him in public, though it’s clear he’s the one with the ultimate power. He attempts to keep his hands clean and his reputation flawless at all times, and when he can’t, he claims he was led astray due to his compassion or some other understandable flaw, while others were the real wrongdoers.

Jinju visits Anton, a tailor in the Chains, to pick up a gift for Bess. Erik wears a hoodie and wanders the Chains anonymously while Bess and Oz search. When they spot him, he steps into Anton’s shop and grabs Jinju. Anton is shocked to see a gun. Erik tells both hostages to be quiet.

Andre tells LJ that they took him out of the Tail against his will to solve Sean’s murder. He doesn’t care how the case turns out. But Erik screwed up by castrating his victims, since that turns a cold-blooded contract kill into a crime of passion. And, according to Andre, castration is a punishment that women lay down on men.

A quick google search will tell you that this isn’t true, but, once again, this is fiction. Layton is sending this story in the direction he wants it to go, just as Melanie and Ruth spend their days doing.

He told LJ they could smash the hated system together, so she’s listening for what he’s offering. She could punish a man named Wilford if she goes along with Andre’s version of events.

Andre: “That wasn’t [Erik’s] idea was it? He was probably just controlling the victim for somebody else, right? So, are we playing your song?”

He holds the J-hook out to her with a small smile. She looks at it for a long moment, then makes her decision and takes it. She continues dancing.

He just asked her if she’s willing to go along with his version of events. By taking the J-hook, she agreed. She doesn’t completely understand the implications of what he just implied.

Andre: “S**t, if I was a blue-eyed Firstie girl, I’d be playing for time, too. Erik’s going down in a blaze of glory, right?”

I’m not completely sure about what he means about playing for time. He must be implying that she’s trying to put off being arrested for as long as possible, hoping she’ll get off, the traditional meaning of the phrase.

But it’s clear that’s not what she’s doing. She’s already turned Erik in and told them where to look for him. That’s the opposite of playing for time. I don’t think Erik planned to go down in a blaze of glory, though I do think he plans to shoot the electrical junction box, so maybe his death is also planned. This episode doesn’t give us all of the information we need to understand what’s happening during the questioning and manhunt.

LJ: “He’s not going to the drawers.”

Andre: “So, no one tells… And you finally got to feel something… When he held those men down for you.”

No one tells… Both Nikki and Erik die in order to ensure their silence. LJ revealed he hadn’t come home after the fight so that he’d be part of Andre’s investigation before the jackboots murder him, rather than after he’s dead when the case will quickly be closed. She also makes sure that he’s killed rather enduring whatever it is they’re doing to people in the drawers. LJ and Erik may have had a suicide pact saying they’d rather die than go to the drawers.

And you finally got to feel something… I’m not sure about this yet- I think he’s giving her something to use in her trial, but it could be what he really thinks of her. She’s not numb inside at all, instead she’s putting up a good front, but anyone who resents her only sees the front, not the fragile bravado. At a trial that’s meant to crucify her and First Class, acting like a spoiled, numb Firstie who killed Thirdies for sport would make the lower classes even more angry, which is Andre’s goal. It’s also a good mask for LJ to wear to help her get through the upcoming ordeal. He probably already guesses he won’t be there for it, but she doesn’t.

When he held those men down for you… She hasn’t seen the bodies up close, so she needs to make sure her story fits the forensic story they tell. He’s giving her the information she needs.

She’s a little overwhelmed by how intense this all is. Then they look at each other with a glint in their eye and the deal is sealed. They play a little game, where she pretends to try to bribe him to let her go, but she’s really offering to actually get the Tailies stuff if they can figure out the logistics.

I believe that she and Erik were drug runners who were taking the kronole from 1st/2nd to 3rd Class, so this isn’t actually as naive an offer as it might seem. (They were getting noodle soup at the 3rd class lunch counter, remember?) She knows the bodyguards, the kronole network and is wealthy. She can use that.

She offers to get blueprints; he counters with guns. We don’t see the end of that conversation, so whether or not they make a deal is left a mystery. But she points at his crotch, where he kept items that Zarah smuggled to him. Maybe she wants to trade sexual favors for whatever she can get him. Maybe she’s telling him others have made that kind of deal, as we’ve seen multiple times.

LJ having access to guns isn’t a surprise. Access to blueprints suggests there’s a sympathetic engineer. Is Ben a double agent?

Back to the manhunt for Erik. Things are getting real. Roche and Grey have pulled the bulk of their men toward the Chains. He has Jinju and Anton sitting on the floor of the shop at gunpoint. He says, “She said this was coming?” Jinju asks him, “Who? Your girl?” Strange that she would jump to that assumption. When Jinju says that, Erik elbows Anton in the head and picks up Jinju, taking her out of the shop with him.

He puts himself in plain sight at the end of the car and lets everyone get a good look at Jinju, train chef and chemist, plus Till’s girlfriend. He fires a shot into the crowd to make sure he has their attention- this part was preplanned. Then he drags Jinju through a set of doors and through 2 cars full of server banks.

Seriously, is every other car a server farm? What are they for? While that would explain their perpetual battery issues, shouldn’t the heat they generate easily heat the train?

When they get to the other end of the car, he opens a hatch to the subtrain. They get down to the next level just before the brakemen and jackboots catch up, led by Till.

Erik takes Jinju a little way down the track, stopping next to a sign that says “Subtrain 778”. He has her stand on the opposite side of the track from him while they wait for law enforcement to catch up. She asks his name, but he doesn’t answer.

When the jackboots reach the ends of the cars to either side of him, he has Jinju turn around and kneel. He tells the jackboots to drop their batons. Then he shoots at an electrical junction box that’s above Jinju’s head. The bullet ricochets off the box and hits Erik in the arm. It leaves a hole in the box with something venting out. Methane? Steam?

Once he’s incapacitated by the bullet, Grey has the jackboots advance on him. He puts up a good fight, but he’s no match for their axes. They hack him to death, then keep hacking until he’s in pieces. Roche calls Melanie to give her the news.

Melanie is still in the Folgers’ car. She’s on the phone a long time and has a strange look on her face. When she tells the Folgers that Erik’s dead, LJ bursts into tears. As Lilah holds LJ, Andre nods to Melanie that she should arrest the Folgers’ daughter.

Andre: “Erik was a dog who did what he was told. And Lilah Junior told him to torture and kill two 3rd Class men.”

The Folgers are outraged. LJ attacks Andre, but the jackboots subdue her.

Seriously? The first murder must have been when she was 12 or 13. She’s quite the femme fatale in the making. LJ thought she was admitting to acting as Erik’s accomplice, whose only crime was the castrations, which would be close enough to cannibalism to make her seem formidable to the train. She’d serve a short sentence in the drawers and then get out, like Nikki. But she wouldn’t be murdered, because there would be no reason to.

By saying that Erik held the men down while LJ committed the crimes, Andre made her the one who was culpable and him the accessory. Andre didn’t tell LJ whether he’d say she or Erik committed the murders. She should have kept her mother, an attorney, in the room during the questioning, in order to avoid this very thing.

As Voice of the Tain, Melanie announces that the killer is dead and another suspect has been arrested. Order has been restored and justice will prevail. Andre asks if she’s in charge of making sure justice prevails.

She offers to buy him a drink in the Aquarium Bar. They toast each other with sake and she asks him what he thinks Wilford’s secret was. He says he just wants to go back to the Tail. She tells him she can’t let him do that. He’s seen too much. And she knows he’s figured out her secret.

He passes out from drugs in the wine. She makes sure he doesn’t get hurt on the way down, then tells him she’s sorry.

Well, as long as she feels bad about it.

Last Australian passes out nutrition bars in the Tail, with the charm of any professional maitre d’. He finds a metal capsule from Astrid hidden in one and brings it to Josie. The message inside says, “Layton’s missing.”

Melanie oversees Klimpt as he preps Andre for the drawer. She tells Klimpt to keep him off book and undamaged.

Commentary

Andre is nothing if not brave. He goaded Melanie into putting him in the drawers with Pike and the other Tailie rebels and she played into his hands. But who would be willing to voluntarily undergo the drawers after everything we’ve watched Nikki go through for the last 3 episodes?

Grey had Erik thoroughly killed so that the story can circulate and become a legend which appeases the masses. We saw Oz weaving a similar story about the rebellion of episode 1. But if 3rd Class isn’t worked up about getting justice over a Firstie murdering Thirdies, they won’t join Andre’s rebellion. He needs a true Firstie on trial.

Is it me, or does Ruth seem to be looking fresher and happier each day, while Melanie looks more frazzled as Snowpiercer’s order becomes harder to maintain? And Ruth is always making sure she keeps Robert, the kingpin of First Class, happy, no matter what. When the military coup happens, does she have plans to become the new Melanie?

The holes the butcher made to breach the cattle car window looked alot like the bullet hole Erik made in the electrical box. Will the holes in the cattle car window be discovered and used to frame someone eventually?

I can’t imagine that Melanie, Miss Audrey and Zarah are supposed to sisters or even related, but they sure look like they should be. Somebody got Zarah called up out of the Tail and into the Night Car. Meanwhile Melanie and Audrey snipe at each other like two people with a history that goes far beyond a business relationship, especially if we’re to believe that Melanie doesn’t visit the Night Car. There’s some bad blood between them, and Melanie’s guilty enough about it that she lets Audrey speak in openly negative terms to her in front of Andre. Of course, that could be one of the reasons Andre has to go in the drawer at the end of the episode…

Speaking of 19 Century mourning practices (I will later), the hair of the dead was often collected and made into artwork or jewelry as a keepsake, much as we keep the dead’s ashes and sometimes make keepsakes with cremation ashes. Klimpt has been seen with passengers’ hair several times now. Could he be collecting samples for this purpose, since there wouldn’t be a crematorium or cemetery on the train? There might not even be photographs or any way to paint portraits, other than for 1st Class.

In her opening voiceover, Jinju mentions that many of the wealthy uploaded their consciousnesses. Shends by saying she just wants to provide some happiness on Snowpiercer. Nikki said being in the drawer wasn’t like sleep. This makes me wonder if the server banks hold uploaded consciousnesses and the people in the drawers are having their consciousnesses uploaded and experimented on. Did Nikki go to the San Junipero of Snowpiercer’s server banks?

That would add a new wrinkle to Melanie sending Andre to the drawers. Maybe she’s actually showing him another aspect of the train before she brings him in on her rebellion against 1st Class. Server farms suck up an incredible amount of energy. If they hold wealthy people’s minds and much of Snowpiercer’s battery power goes to power servers, it would be an injustice most people aren’t even aware of. “The other work” might be the search for a way to create fast growing human clones and then develop a way to download minds into them.

Jinju’s opening statement, in addition to her scenes with Klimpt, also lead me to believe she’s the one who makes the kronole.

Snowpiercer’s Distortions

This episode is full of optical illusions, mirror images and visual distortions. If you didn’t understand that nothing is as it seems on Snowpiercer before, the scene in Melanie’s cabin should have told you all by itself, between the skewed view of the world (map), the outer layer peeled off the fruit by a different person from the one who was meant to eat it (Eve gave Adam the apple, kids), the reversed image of the name of Melanie’s Ivy League school.

Then there was the way Melanie was up all night, alone, to figure out how to save humanity using goat flatulence. All of those heroes running around all episode, trying to catch a serial killer, and Melanie is busy being the real hero in the dark of night, figuring out how to use goats more efficiently. SO emasculating to the poor jackboots and their leader.

Both Ben and Melanie appeared in the mirror, suggesting he might have a double life we don’t know about yet, maybe just as her boyfriend, maybe something beyond that. Miss Audrey and Andre also spoke to each other while pacing in front of a mirror in a padded room. Contradictions upon contradictions. How are we to ever find the truth with those two?

There were reflected images everywhere in this episode, too many to analyze what it might mean for every character. They’re all spies, they’re all being spied on, they’re all using the black market and the black market is using all of them.

Widow’s Weeds and Proxy Wars

A note about Miss Audrey’s mourning outfit, which she’s wearing complete with the weeping veil, to make sure we know she’s in mourning dress: The custom of wearing of all black, or widow’s weeds, during a long period of mourning, often for a year and a day after the death of a husband or close relative, was at its height throughout the 19th century. It’s particularly associated with Britain’s Queen Victoria because after her husband died in 1861, she wore her widow’s weeds for the rest of her life, another 40 years. In the US, widow’s weeds are also associated with our Civil War, when so many died on both sides and many widows and children were impoverished because there were no men left for them to remarry.

Make no mistake, Miss Audrey is wearing that veil as a symbol of rebellion, to remind Melanie of her failures, and Melanie knows it. Miss Audrey is wearing a 50s/60s version of widow’s weeds, when she’d be mourning her Korean and Vietnam War dead- two Cold War proxy wars in which innocent young men died for the political struggles of the powerful and wealthy.

Similar to the way Sean, Nikki and Erik are dying for Melanie and the Folgers’ Cold War on Snowpiercer.

If you understand Miss Audrey’s outfit, you can solve Sean and Nikki’s murders, understand the kronole drug war and decode what happens to Erik and LJ in this episode.

More on the Power Structure on the Train

First, a little more of my theory of what’s happening on the train: My current guess is that the Folgers are the drug kingpins who ultimately finance and control the kronole trade, and probably other black market businesses, but Lilah and Robert don’t get their hands dirty. York is the COO who takes care of the daily drug and gambling operations, maybe more, such as prostitution, blackmail and protection for all of those independent small businesses in 3rd.

Erik and the other bodyguards are drug runners and possibly in collections for gambling debts and protection money. Jinju is the kronole cooker. She’s probably its inventor. Klimpt was covering for her, but he’s also heavily involved in the black market and probably in the drug market. He may actually be the one to hand kronole off to a courier, as he said.

That makes a minimum of 3 factions on Snowpiercer- Melanie’s official Authoritarian State, The Tail, and the First Class Business Empire. There’s also the military and the 3rd Class, with its independent economy of artists and small businesses. Roche seems loyal to Melanie and Grey seems loyal to the Folgers. Grey also seems like he might be using the Folgers until he can seize control of the entire train in a military coup. Roche seems like his loyalty is real. For now, we should probably count the military as a fourth faction which can act independently, split in two or side with one of the other factions.

The same is ultimately true of 2nd and 3rd Class, since they are made up of individuals. Most of 3rd Class might side with the Tail, but they like to eat and have heat, too. Melanie provides that and there’s no evidence that the Tailies have thought through how they’d keep the lights on after their rebellion. They have to show they have engineers and ag workers on their side and can keep the train running, in good repair and continue to produce food, not just provide social equality, before people will fully support them for the long term. Otherwise, they may manage a rebellion, but the people may want a return to Melanie’s or Grey’s order soon after.

The Night Car is the final faction. It’s still a mysterious place, but if even 1st and 2nd Class use its services, it will make up for its small size with power and influence in the underground economy. The treatment and behavior of Miss Audrey seems to suggest that this is true. Audrey has made it clear from the start that she’s on the side of revolution, but she prefers to move slowly and carefully. She might not like having her hand forced by Andre.

Even without the Tailies’ rebellions, there is constant tension, which rises occasionally to Cold War status, between the other factions in the rest of the train. Sean, Nikki and Erik all fell victim to this. Andre knows much more about the front of the train than we were led to believe at first, but it’s not clear how well he understands these political nuances.

His goal is apparently to smash the entire power structure, rather than to actually work with any of the leaders he’s seemed to make alliances with in order to restructure the system so it’s more just. Out here on the planet’s surface, you can theoretically smash the system and still get food and water and other resources while your country is in complete disarray.

Snowpiercer, on the other hand, is a delicate system that may go into a death spiral if not carefully handled, or so we’ve been told. There are still a lot of secrets, like what those endless banks of servers are doing. Are they full of people who are waiting for the thaw and new, cloned bodies? Are they the real, resource sucking 1st Class who contribute nothing to Snowpiercer’s survival?

Or do those servers hold the sum total of all human knowledge, including the genome for every living thing which had its DNA sequenced before the Freeze? When Melanie calls Snowpiercer an ark, is that what she means? Does the train hold the possibility of cloning lost species?

Beyond the servers, maintaining the health of the living things, including the plants, animals and people, on the train under such harsh conditions, for such a long time, would be next to impossible. Anyone who’s ever gardened or kept tropical fish can tell you that living things don’t do well outside of their natural environment. It’s hard work to maintain an artificial environment even when you can order what you need from Amazon.

There’s a reason Jinju and Melanie are the two most stressed people on the train. I believe Andre’s heart is in the right place, but because he’s been sheltered in the Tail, I’m afraid he’s not taking all of the variables into account and will kill the experts he needs to keep the train alive. Revolutions often succeed, only to have their countries fall into years of chaos or fascism. Andre might underestimate the power held by the Folgers and Grey, who will work together to seize control. They do understand how the train works and they’ll simply enslave the people who are essential to its survival.

Misogyny, Oppression and Child Soldiers

In 2020, it’s not okay to use the “Lolita/Eve Made Me Do It” defense, especially when Lolita/Eve is being framed to benefit a man. Even in war. By using LJ as a pawn, Andre proves that he’s no better than Melanie. I suspected that they were essentially the same character and that his warmth was just another tool in his arsenal. This proves it.

Andre and Melanie have the same fatal flaw. They both want to save people as an abstract idea, but in practice, they are willing to sacrifice or betray any individual in service of their goal. The end justifies the means, whether the means is a child of the enemy or their own spouse.

Perhaps even their own child. The Folgers have crossed that line. It’s not clear yet whether Andre has gone beyond using the idea of Miles and used Miles himself. Like LJ, Miles has certainly volunteered to be used as a child soldier for Andre’s cause.

Winnie has already been used in the rebellion. Suzanne took responsibility for sending her tiny daughter into battle and took the punishment for her, which was the right thing to do. Winnie was blatantly used because of her size. It’s not clear how much she even understood of what she was doing and she’s too small to defend herself from enemy soldiers.

The Tailies are desperate and crossing lines, while Andre is bragging to Melanie that his people are better than that. They’re not. They’re as oppressed as people can possibly be and they work hard to make their lives better in a variety of ways. But they aren’t a utopia and they aren’t better people than the ones in the front of the train.

Everyone has lines that they won’t cross. I guess cannibalism isn’t that big of a deal to Andre, since he brags about it. The exploitation of children for sex and war is my line in the sand. Andre crossed that line and I can’t look at him the same way now.

The Folgers are much, much worse, since they aren’t fighting wars against deprivation and oppression. They are just sociopaths who sacrificed their own child for profit and their own convenience.

But I’m worried that Andre and the writers look at LJ and see a spoiled rich girl who’s never wanted for anything and dares to complain about her petty problems when put alongside the overwhelming problems of the Tail.

My issue is, why is it a competition?

The Tail’s problems are extreme, and should never be forgotten, but their existence doesn’t mean that LJ doesn’t also have a dead end life, monstrous parents and a serial killer, pedophile boyfriend who began sexually abusing her when she was too young to consent, with her cold-blooded parents’ permission. That’s a horrific existence. No one should have to live with their rapist and his gun in a train car. LJ was fighting her own war, and she finally won, only to be drafted into Andre’s war.

Miles had people who loved and educated him, even in the extreme deprivation of the Tail. LJ had psychopaths who used her, but she had enough to eat. She did not have a healthy childhood, anymore than Erik did.

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Images Courtesy of TNT.

Snowpiercer S1E4: Without Their Maker Recap- Sean's murder is solved, Lolita gets blamed, Josie visits 3rd Class, Andre visits 1st Class, & Melanie pulls out her bottle of poisoned sake. The Revolution approaches. OneTail #Snowpiercer In Snowpiercer episode 4, Sean's murder is solved, Josie visits 3rd Class, Andre visits 1st Class and Melanie pulls out her bottle of poisoned sake.

#Alison Wright #Daveed Diggs #dystopia #Jennifer Connelly #lena hall #metacrone #post apocalypse #recaps #review #science fiction #Snowpiercer #Susan Park #Without Their Maker

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distant-rose-archive-blog · 7 years

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No Leg to Stand On (1/2)

Note: Well, I can’t believe I finish this thing in a day. This writing streak has been absurd. Like I have just felt an intense need to write all week and hopefully I won’t get burned out over the weekend. Anyway, this was...this one was tough. Though Killian and Emma aren’t be factors into this one, they are constantly brought up and discussed because issues. I think I’ve made some of my feelings about the how Neal Cassidy thing known in this own. So, yeah, some anti-Swanfire thoughts here. I’m really curious to see what you all think of the ending of this one. As usual, thank you @welllpthisishappening for reading a shit ton of text from me. I owe you a shit ton. Summary: At sixteen, Beth Jones is Killian’s pride and joy. She’s gorgeous, intelligent, clever, witty and possibly the most talented swordsman of her generation. She might also be pregnant Rating: T Word Count: 6,900+

It started with a phone call from his stepfather.

Henry Mills was sitting a Starbucks on his laptop after a lengthy conversation with his agent about starting a new book series. His latte (not well made and completely overpriced) had long since been finished, but he was looking to have a moment to himself before he went back home and packed up his and his daughter’s things for when their upcoming weekend visit with his parents. His phone lit up as Killian’s name flashed upon the screen. Henry glanced at the clock in the corner of his computer and frowned. It was Friday afternoon in late July and according to the forecast, it was sunny. Typically, Killian took the Jones crew out on the Jolly and wasn’t necessarily reachable by phone.

A hard feeling formed in Henry’s gut. Something was wrong. Where his mother could detect lies, Henry’s superpower was that he could predict trouble and some strange storm was brewing.

Tapping his fingers against the table, Henry picked up the call while ignoring the dirty looks he gets from the patrons around him. If they wanted peace and quiet, they should have gone to a real coffee shop. There were plenty in Portland.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Hello lad. I’m well. Yourself?” Killian greeted. His voice was a bit on the gruff side, but Henry attributed that more to his stepfather’s advancing age than any real stress.

Henry could not help but smile. He hadn’t been a ‘lad’ in years, but then again, at his age, everyone was probably a child to Killian. (Henry tried very hard not to think of the implications of that.)

“Just finished a Saturday meeting with my agent. She wants me to focus on something else aside from my Once series. I’ve been thinking about doing something in the same universe though. Might call this one Ever After, you know, to keep the fairytale theme to it,” Henry replied conversationally, leaning back in his seat.

“Thinking of writing about yourself rather than your mother?” Killian asked. If someone else had posed the question, Henry would have thought they were subtly accusing him of being an egotist, but this was Killian and he knew him better than that.

“No,” Henry said with a chuckled. “I’m rather boring. I think there are far more interesting protagonists in the world than Henry Mills. I’m still working out the kinks though. My material is a bit on the young side.”

“Speaking of the young,” Killian said. And there it was - the real reason Killian was calling him. “Have you spoken to your sister lately?”

“Beth?” Henry asked as if he somehow had another sister in the woodwork. Considering his life, it wouldn’t necessarily surprise him that much. “Over the phone? Not recently. I mean we text. She sent me a list of cat pirate puns yesterday but that’s about it. Why? What’s going on?”

“Well, officially? Nothing, but she’s been acting real strange lately. Very shut in and quiet,” Killian said with a sigh. “Your mother thinks it’s a phase. Teenage hormones and all that, but I know my daughter, lad and so do you. She’s a firecracker. Vibrant and full of fire. Now she’s just muted. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t eat. That…that isn’t my daughter. It’s like she’s been replaced by some zombie creation.”

Henry frowned, leaning forward and shutting his laptop.

“Is she sick?”

“She insists she isn’t, but I don’t know. She’s sixteen and I’m now persona-non-grata,” Killian sighed. “I figured if anyone knew, it might be you. You’re her brother and she looks up to you. You don’t have parental authority over her so I figured if she was really in trouble, she would turn to you.”

A part of Henry wanted to tell Killian he was barking up the wrong tree out of some strange sense of loyalty to the younger Joneses, but he was absolutely right. Whenever his younger siblings stepped into something bigger than they should have, they had a tendency of calling him before anyone else as if he were some magical “Get Out of Jail Free” card. He had always helped them and had kept their screw ups under wraps from their parents with the strong understanding that they would pick up babysitting hours if Henry needed them. He wasn’t aware that Emma and Killian had an inkling of this.

“I wouldn’t say Beth looks up to me that much, but I can talk to her if you like,” Henry said after a moment.

“That’s all I ask, Henry,” Killian replied gently. His gratitude was evident in voice.

“I’ll let you if anything comes of it,” Henry sighed. “I will see you tomorrow though.”

“You’re coming around noon with the little one, right?” Killian asked. Henry didn’t have to see him to know that his stepfather was rubbing the back of his ear as he spoke. It was already funny how well he could picture him even when he was miles away.

“Aye, Captain.” Henry couldn’t help but grin.

“Smartass,” Killian said affectionately. “I blame you for the constant sass I put up with. They learned it all from you.”

“I think you and Mom gave more than enough examples for them to follow in that department,” Henry laughed. “But if it makes you feel better, sure, blame me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Killian. Have a good one.”

“You as well, lad. I will see you then.”

Upon ending his phone call with Killian, Henry scrolled through his contact list. He frowned as he went through the ‘B’ section without seeing his sister’s name. He definitely had her number. She sent him random texts constantly. He immediately went back to his messages application and nearly smacked himself. He had forgotten that Beth had changed her name in his phone to ‘HRH Queen Beth of the Seven Seas.’ He snorted, thumbing the name and pressing the call button.

The phone rang twice before it went to voicemail.

“Hey it’s Beth! I’m either busy or ignoring you. You can leave a message, but I’m probably not going to listen to it. Just being up front. Bye,” his sister’s mischievous voice rang out.

Henry snorted again. Firecracker was certainly an optimal term for his sister.

“Hey Queenie Bee, it’s your favorite brother,” Henry started. “I cannot wait to see you tomorrow; however, you haven’t messaged me if you wanted me to sneak any contraband into the Swan-Jones Federal Prison. I’m packing tonight and would rather have it folded away nicely so Mom doesn’t see anything. You know how she snoops. Anyway, call me back.”

Not even a few minutes passed before Henry’s phone dinged in rapid session, heralding a series of text messages. Henry wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t. There was something about teenagers that made them prefer text messages to phone calls. He couldn’t necessarily judge. He had been the same at that age. He tapped in his passcode to look at messages.

Beth: Hey. I need a huge favor.

Beth: Major favor.

Beth: And you can’t tell Mom or Dad.

Beth: Bro Code, Henry. I’m invoking the Bro Code.

Henry sighed, debating in his head out he wanted to respond to the messages. He would flat out ask her what was up, play protective older brother and get serious with her or he could play it cool and give her a more humorous response. He bit his lip before typing.

Henry: I’m kinda wounded you think I’m a snitch. Bro Code invocation granted.

Henry: As for the favor, it depends on what you’re asking.

Henry: I’m not buying you beer or shit until you’re 18. That pact is sacred and before your time. Don’t like it? Take it up with the Dread Pirate Roberts

Henry watched as dots appeared on his screen, signaling that his sister was typing back a reply. It took five minutes. The dots disappeared twice before reappearing. He idly wondered if he was going to get a reply with a word count that was worthy of a novel publication. It wouldn’t surprise him. Beth was absurdly fast at typing on her phone. She had the Guinness World Record in the bag if she ever went for it.

However, when Henry finally got her reply, it wasn’t novel length at all. It was only nine words. Nine words that made all the color drain from his face.

Beth: I need you to buy me a pregnancy test

Henry didn’t bother writing back a text. He pounded his thumb down on her name and pressed the call option.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Henry chanted under his breath. His fingers were tapping more violently against the table, loud enough to almost cover the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears.

She picked up just before the final ring.

“Hey…” Her voice was above a whisper.

“Please tell me this is an elaborate and very cruel joke,” Henry said. His desperation was clearly evident in his tone.

There was a long unsteady silence that followed his demand. Henry strained his ear to make sure he wasn’t missing a sound, but he wasn’t even sure he could hear her breathing. His fingers stopped tapping and he clenched his hand into a fist as his anxiety took hold.

“It’s not,” she said quietly.

“I’m driving over right now,” he stated firmly and began to back his stuff up.

He cursed as his laptop banged against the side of the table. It was a miracle the thing still worked. It was covered in scratches and dents from all the times he and his siblings had dropped it. He remembered quite vividly a time it fell off his lap while he and his sister had been watching the old Batman cartoons when she was eleven – only five years ago. Christ.

“You are not coming here today,” she hissed. “If you show up here, Mom and Dad are going to think something is wrong.”

“Something is wrong,” he bit back. “And they should know. Goddamn it, Elizabeth, what were you thinking?”

“Look, yell at me tomorrow,” Beth snapped. “This isn’t something that can get better or worse overnight. Either I am or not. But Bro Code has been invoked, Henry. You cannot tell Mom and Dad. Are you going to get me a test or not?”

“I will get you the test,” Henry sighed, rubbing his temple. “But we’re having a long chat tomorrow. A long chat. We are talking some Killian Jones length lectures involved.”

“Thanks, padre número dos.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how Spanish works and I’m sure as hell not your father but we’ll save that for the lecture tomorrow,” Henry said, squeezing his eyes shut. Coffee wouldn’t do. He needed vodka. Some serious vodka. And at least a tank of water because he wasn’t young enough where he could deal with hangovers anymore.

The rest of Henry’s evening went in a daze. He couldn’t focus on anything, even listening to his daughter talk about her day at school. All he could think about was the fact that Beth had asked him to buy her a pregnancy test. His sixteen-year old sister was possibly pregnant. He still remembered when she was born. Hell, he remembered changing her diapers. The concept of that baby potentially having a baby made him nauseous.

Before he went to bed, his phone went off one last time, another text message.

Beth: Mom & Dad are on patrol tomorrow morning since they aren’t expecting you until noon. Drop by the house early? I’ll make Bean a cupcake.

Henry bit his lip before typing his response. His heart seemed to ache more when Beth had invoked her nickname for Lucy. She had given his daughter that name before she was even born. Beth had been six and incredibly excited to be someone’s aunt. When he and Jacinda had shown her their first ultrasound picture, she had called the baby “the Little Bean,” which had slowly evolved into just “Bean.” It was just another reminder that Beth wasn’t that much older than Lucy.

Henry: Sounds like a plan. No cupcakes though. Luce doesn’t need more sugar. She’s sweet enough as it is.

Beth: You’re lame. :P

Henry: And you’re possibly pregnant. Now sleep. Big day tomorrow.

The next morning, Henry nearly had to drag Lucy out of bed to get her in the car. She was only ten, but liked to sleep in like her teenaged aunt and uncles. The only thing that seemed to arouse her from her slumber was the promise of two doughnuts and a strawberry coolatta from Dunkin Donuts. He made a pit stop to at his local CVS to buy a pregnancy test and cranberry juice before heading on his way to Storybrooke, blushing violently when the cashier granted him a cheery “good luck.”

When he arrived at his parents’ house an hour later, he found his younger brother Wes sitting on the couch watching a women’s fitness program in his underwear while eating directly from a box of cheerios. He looked incredibly hungover and stared bleary eyed as Henry walked through the door with Lucy, who was still slurping contently on her coollatta.

“Mom and Dad aren’t here, Hank. I thought you weren’t coming until noon,” Wes said, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah, well, duty called. Where’s Beth?” Henry asked, feeling a little impatient.

“Probably still asleep upstairs. Why? Are you giving her something?” Wes asked, eying the plastic bag in Henry’s hand.

“Nothing you would be interested in,” Henry sighed. “Would you mind putting on some clothes and watching Lucy for me?”

“Depends on what’s in it for me,” Wes replied, drumming his hands against his stomach and giving him a grin that would have looked mischievous if Wes didn’t look half dead. Henry had seen him down an entire bottle of Captain Morgan and look ship shape the next day. He didn’t even want to know how much alcohol he had consumed last night.

He also wasn’t in the mood to play this game this morning.

“How about this? You have my old room. I know there’s a loose floorboard in there that’s perfect for hiding things. You’re clever and I know you found it. You might even have some unsavory stuff in there. How about I don’t tell Mom and Killian about it and you watch Lucy.”

“That’s evil.” Wes was staring at Henry like he had never seen him before.

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Henry smirked. “You don’t even know what evil is.”

Wes opened his mouth to say something but as he was about to, the front door opened and a sweat-drenched Harrison walked through. He had music blasting in his ears so loud that Henry could actually hear the lyrics and promptly identified the current song as something from the Jimi Hendrix collection.

“Uncle Harry!” Lucy smiled, putting her drink down on a side table and opening her arms to give Harrison a hug.

Henry’s other brother gave Lucy a small smile as he took out his earphones. He looked like he was ready to fall on his knees and hug her back but was also becoming aware that he was creating a puddle of sweat around him and smelled like a locker room.

“You don’t want to touch me right now, Bean. Uncle Harry is pretty gross since he just ran seven miles without his running buddy,” Harrison replied gently, giving Wes a mild side eye.

Wes scoffed.

“It’s a weekend. Saturday is a day of rest. I don’t need to run circles around you every day, Har,” Wes replied with a roll of his eyes.

“You know what,” Henry said, coming to a decision. “This is perfect. There’s finally someone responsible here who isn’t at work or asleep. Forget what I said, Wes. Harrison, can you watch Lucy while I go talk to Beth about something personal?”

“Did you just suggest I wasn’t responsible?” Wes asked, offended.

“Yeah,” Henry said casually. “That and I don’t trust you with my kid. Knowing you, you would teach her how to make a bomb or something.”

Harrison snorted in a amusement both at Henry’s comment and Wes’s following look of outrage. He wiped at his brow while working out the kinks in his earphones. Henry made a mental note to get him some Bluetooth headphones for Christmas.

“Sure. I can watch Lucy. What’s going on with Beth?” Harrison asked as he placed his headphones down on the side table next to Lucy’s Dunkin Donuts confection.

“None of your business,” Henry replied shortly.

“Apparently they’re having a pow-wow that we’re not invited to,” Wes remarked before shoving an entire handful of cheerios into his mouth.

Henry and Harrison both made a face at the display.

“Hey Bean,” Harrison said, dropping a hand on Lucy’s head and giving her hair a firm ruffle. “How about we go upstairs and wake Neddy up, then I’ll take a shower and we get a Rockband tournament going?”

Lucy nodded enthusiastically, grabbing Harrison’s hand and gripping it tightly. Harrison laughed as she started to “drag” him up the stairs. It was comical for Henry to watch as his gigantic younger brother was being led around by his tiny daughter. Harrison was great with her though; always patient and gentle.

“I have a feeling she prefers the Bear to me,” Wes commented as he turned his attention back to the fitness program.

“Well, “the Bear” isn’t hungover half the time she sees him,” Henry said pointedly.

Henry didn’t bother waiting for a reply. He made his way up the stairs, stopping only when he got to Beth’s door. It was closed and he gave it a tentative knock. After yesterday’s conversation, he highly doubted she was asleep.

After a moment, there was movement on the other side of the door. Beth opened it just a crack. Henry could barely see anything inside the room, but what he could see was his sister’s tired green eyes looking out at him.

“Did you bring it?” Beth’s voice was but a whisper as she opened the door wider.

Henry almost shook his head when he saw his sister because he didn’t want to believe it was her. Regardless of what time it was or how she was feeling, Beth was lively and full of spirit. Killian had said it best - Beth was a firecracker; exciting, explosive, loud and stunning. She was full of energy; always ready to slash someone down whether with a clever quip or her practice sword.

The person in front of him wasn’t lively, bawdy and boisterous at all; nothing like the Beth he knew. What Henry was looking at was a shadow of his sister. Beth, who had always been slender, looked now pale and positively gaunt. Dark bruises had formed under her eyes and there were long dried streaks of make up that trailed down her cheeks, indicating to Henry that she had been crying for quite awhile before he showed up. She looked like a paradoxical picture of youth and death; a pretty animated corpse. He didn’t want to believe this was his sister, but it was. All the anger and annoyance he had been harboring since last night seemed to deflate in an instant.

Henry offered her a weak smile and lifted the plastic bag in his grasp up for her to see. He gave it an unnecessary shake, the contents inside dully thudding against their packaging.

“I bought test and some juice in Portland on my way up. I didn’t think it would do us any good if I got it from Dark Star’s. The whole town would know about it two seconds after it was bought and I think the last thing you need right now is gossip,” he said gently.

Despite the softness of his tone, his words seemed to have broken this brittle and sad version of his sister. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she threw herself at him, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping her up. As her arms wrapped around him, Henry’s mind wandered idly back to a documentary he had watched on pythons. He recalled the amount of emphasis that been given on their kill methods and the amount of pressure per cubic inch they could enforce upon their prey. Python muscles had nothing on Beth Jones. Henry was almost certain that his internal organs would be squeezed out by the force of her embrace.

“Thank you,” Beth choked out in a faint whisper that broke Henry’s heart. He ran his fingers through her hair in hopes of soothing her.

Every part of him hurt for her. She was so incredibly young; a child stuck in a precarious situation. Beth had never seemed so fragile and small before, but she did so now. She was looking at him with large green eyes that were pleading with him to be her lifeline.

“No need to thank me,” he murmured against her hair. “That’s what big brothers are for. It’s going to be okay.”

Beth seemed to break a bit more when he said the word ‘okay.’ Her body shook and Henry did his best to comfort her by rocking her gently from side to side.

He didn’t know what he was doing. He was a complete fish out of water. There wasn’t a manual out there for impossibly older brothers and how to handle their possibly pregnant teenager sisters. He kept thinking back on the mere six years difference between his sister and his daughter. He tried incredibly hard not to let that thought continue to freak him out.

“I’m pretty sure that big brothers aren’t supposed to buy pregnancy tests for their sisters, but okay,” Beth wetly laughed.

Henry cringed at the sound. Her laugh was a hollow and empty sound that bordered on hysteria.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Henry murmured, still rocking her gently and rubbing her back. “None of that, okay? Regardless of everything going on, I got your back. We all have your back. You got family, Beth, baby or not.”

“How can you say that?” Beth cried, tears falling off her face and dribbling down Henry’s leather jacket.

Her eyes bulged for a moment and a look of pure horror formed on her face as some dark thought flashed across her mind. Henry could only imagine how awful it was.

“Dad is going to kill me,” she said in a broken whisper. She looked ready to crumble.

Henry’s lips pulled into a tight smile. He has no illusions as to how his stepfather was going to react. Henry knew him well enough to know that Killian Jones was going to blow an absolute gasket if he discovered Beth, his unabashed pride and joy, was pregnant. He would be furious, incredibly upset and disappointed in his daughter, but he certainly wouldn’t kill her. The same could not be said for the currently unknown possible father, however. Henry couldn’t imagine a scenario where Killian didn’t try to run his hook through the unfortunate bastard that impregnated his only and beloved daughter.

“He will not kill you,” Henry murmured, placing a kiss on her head. “He and Mom might be upset and disappointed but they love you and will love you no matter what. It’s not like Mom has a leg to stand on when it comes to teenage pregnancies. At least you’re not in jail.”

As soon as he said it, Henry was hit with the sobering realization that his sister was roughly the same age as his mother when she had fallen pregnant with him. He had never truly thought on it before, but his mother had been like Beth, little more than a child. Not only that, she had been alone. Beth had him and though she didn’t believe it, she had an entire army of family that was willing to do anything to help her out if need be. Emma hadn’t had that. She had been locked in a prison cell with no one to turn to.

This revelation made him swallow roughly as a variety of emotions made themselves known. He felt a strong wave of admiration and sympathy for his mother. Seeing how broken Beth was at the moment made him realize the magnitude of Emma’s strength that went beyond just being the Savior. She had survived prison and given birth to a baby while being only a baby herself. And she had been alone.

That fact seemed to repeat itself on and on in Henry’s head. His mother had been alone. She had been pregnant and alone in jail. And his father had left her there. Henry sometimes thought about Neal and wondered what it would have been like if he had lived, but now all he felt towards him was anger. He had left his mother, the girl who had no one, left alone in jail. The fact she had been pregnant only made it worse. What sort of man did that?

A violent push from his sister cut him away from these thoughts and he was brought back to the present when Beth untangled herself from his grasp with an angry hiss.

“That was not remotely comforting!” she snapped.

Though she was angry, Henry was somewhat glad to see it. She looked more like his sister than the weeping zombie that clung to him. The fact she still had some steel in her bones made him more at ease. Beth was not a weeper. She was a fighter. An angry Beth, Henry could handle, but crying Beth had up him more off than the possibly of her being pregnant did.

“Sorry,” he replied apologetically. “I don’t have a basis for a situation like this. If you don’t mind me asking, who is the father? Well, possible father?”

Beth was quiet for a long moment and Henry was almost certain she wasn’t going to tell him.

“Benny Booth,” Beth sighed, running her hands through her hair and looking positively drained.

A flicker of anger returned to life in Henry’s stomach. This time wasn’t aimed at his sister and her carelessness, but rather at the asshole who had decided to mess around with his little sister. Benjamin Booth was three years older than Beth and though Henry no longer lived in Storybrooke, he was aware of his reputation as a lothario. He had once even tried to steal Henry’s motorcycle. Benny was handsome and charismatic, but was also manipulative and self-serving; the last person Henry wanted being with Beth.

“Ah, Beth, he’s nineteen. He has no business being around you. He’s an adult. You’re a kid. That’s statutory rape right there!” Henry exclaimed, trying to keep his anger out of his voice.

“It wasn’t rape,” Beth sighed, burying her face in her hands. “It was…we…we’re seeing each other…well, we had been. He hasn’t spoken to me since I told him about possible spawn.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Henry was just as surprised as Beth was by the amount of venom in his voice, but he meant every word.

“Henry, no. He’s not worth it,” Beth huffed, looking up from her hands.

“You seemed to think he was,” Henry snipped without thinking.

Beth looked pained at the remark and Henry immediately felt bad.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he said apologetically.

Beth put her palm up for a moment as if to make him stop talking before brining it back to her temple and sighing.

“No, no,” she said, fingers traveling down her face to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You’re right. I did and I was wrong. Look, it happened. Just give me the pee stick.”

Henry almost smiled at the abrupt command. It was signature Beth Jones to be blunt and crass whenever she could manage. Glimmers of his sister were rising from the surface and it reassured him that this situation hadn’t completely shaken her.

He handed her the plastic bag and she immediately rummaged through it, taking out the cranberry juice and the test. She carelessly tossed the remaining bag on the floor and Henry could hear his stepfather in the back of his mind throwing a fit over lack of proper disposal.

She eyed the cranberry juice dubiously for a moment before looking up at Henry.

“What? Did you think I had a UTI on top of possibly being pregnant?” Beth asked with a quirk of her brow as she uncapped the juice bottle and took a heavy swig.

“I thought you liked cranberry juice,” Henry replied hesitantly. “Was I wrong?”

“Yeah, I like cranberry juice. With vodka. But drinking it straight is kinda ‘meh.’ Ah well. I mean, at least it isn’t orange juice. That shit is nasty,” she replied as she took another sip.

“Only you would say orange juice is nasty,” Henry said with a shake of his head, sitting down on Beth’s bed and watching as she chugged the bottle. “Think you can pee on command?”

“That is a ridiculous question so I’m not even going to answer,” Beth responded with a snort, smacking her lips together as she finished the small bottle of cranberry juice.

Silence fell between them. Beth stared at the ceiling, tapping her fingers restlessly against the empty plastic bottle. Henry spent this time studying his sister. The more he looked at her, the more he thought on about their mother.

Beth strongly resembled Emma; she had the same slender built and similar facial features, though Beth’s cheeks were more pronounced and her lips a bit thinner than Emma’s. The major differences lay in Beth’s dark hair, pointed ears and tanner skin. Though if Henry ignored the hair and squinted a bit, he was certain he could see what his mother looked like at that age; the age were she had been pregnant with him.

Had Emma cried like Beth did when she realized she might be pregnant? How long had she been in prison before she started to suspect? Did she feel as resigned as Beth did when she realized that his father wasn’t going to be in the picture? He couldn’t ask Emma these questions, but something told him that she had been a bit like Beth - shocked, hysterical and panicked but trying to keep it all under wraps with small barbs and little jokes.

“How long do you think it will take before I feel the need to pee?” Beth asked, still looking at the ceiling.

“No idea, but I think I know a way to kick start it. I do it with Lucy every time I take her to the pediatrician,” Henry said, getting up from his spot on Beth’s bed.

He opened the door to the tiny little bathroom attached to Beth’s room and turned on the sink. Beth watched him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Think of rivers and waterfalls,” Henry instructed.

“Does that ever work?” Beth asked, not looking impressed in the slightest.

“It does for Luce.”

Beth rolled her eyes and resumed tapping against the bottle. Henry sat back down on the bed and resumed watching her.

If she ended up pregnant, there would a smaller age gap between his sister and her child than there would be between himself and his sister. That realization left an acrid taste in his mouth. Beth was too young and he hoped against everything in existence that she wasn’t.

Emma had been too young as well. The thought kept bouncing in the back of his mind. It was as if everything led back to the fact that his mother had given birth to him when she was only seventeen.

Beth got up abruptly and picked up the test. She looked nervous and lost again. When she realized he was looking at her, she gave him a tentative smile.

“Duty calls,” she said.

He gave her a strained smile.

“Good luck and be brave,” he replied, watching as she tiptoed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

As he watched her walk, he came to the decision that if she was pregnant, he would teach that kid how to walk properly. It wasn’t always noticeable, but Beth talked on her toes constantly to make herself look taller. It was an odd little thing that she did to look on par with the rest of them, but Henry was certain that she was going to fall over and break something someday. No, Beth’s kid would walk properly.

And Beth would not be Emma. That was the firm conclusion that Henry had come to. As he had said before, she had more family than she knew what to do with and they would always help her out. However, even if they did somehow cast her out (and they would have to be brainwashed, cursed or on drugs to even consider it), Henry would be there for her and the kid no matter what. He wasn’t going to allow her to go through this experience alone. He would move her and the kid in with him, Jacinda and Lucy if he needed to.

After what felt like ages, Henry got up from the bed, went up to Beth’s en-suite and knocked on the bathroom door.

“You okay in there, Queenie Bee?” he asked tentatively.

“Just waiting.” Her voice was a bit muffled, but still audible through the door.

“Need me to come in there?”

There was a loud scoff from the other side. Henry could picture her rolling her eyes at him.

“I can handle a pee stick. Thank you.”

More silence followed and Henry waited anxiously outside the door. After a few more moments, there was hysterical laughter and Henry jumped at the sound.

“Beth? You okay?”

Beth opened the door abruptedly and gave him the biggest grin.

“I’m not pregnant!” she laughed before waltzed around Henry back into the room. She began spinning around like she was Linda Carter, arms stretched out and waving in the air and dark hair flying everywhere. She looked manic. “Who’s not pregnant? I’m not pregnant! No Booth spawn in me! Fuck yes!”

Despite his relief, Henry couldn’t find it in himself to share in her excitement.

“Good,” he said firmly. “You’re telling Mom and Killian about this.”

The spinning stopped. Beth looked over her shoulder at him with an incredulous expression. She adjusted herself so she was completely facing him. All euphoric cheering was gone and placed with confusion and annoyance.

“Why would I tell them? I’m not pregnant, Henry. There’s nothing to tell,” Beth said in a hard tone.

“Nothing to tell? Beth, you were subhuman this morning. Barely alive and full of anxiety over just the idea of being pregnant. I don’t know how you would be mentally if that result went the other way. You may be feeling good right now, but I’m not convinced you’re okay. I’m pretty certain you need to talk to someone about this and they need to know,” Henry said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking at her sternly.

“Don’t go Dad Mode on me, Henry Mills. I’m your sister, not your daughter!” Beth glared.

“What happened to be me being padre número dos?” Henry asked, raising his eyebrows. “Look, this was a big deal, Beth. I bought you a fucking fifteen-dollar pregnancy test and held you while you had a complete meltdown. You owe me this because I don’t feel comfortable keeping this from them.”

“Bro Code was invoked, Henry!” Beth hissed. “You cannot tell them!”

“Okay, Beth, Bro Code was originally made between Harrison, Wes and myself. You were not a party to it, so technically you can’t even invoke it. You have no leg to stand on, kid. Also the Bro Code was made with the purpose of keeping Wes from doing completely stupid shit and so that I could somewhat control him. Bro Code has nothing to do with accidental and potential pregnancies,” Henry replied, completely serious. “This…this could have gone south so fast, Beth. And if you don’t tell them, I will.”

Beth’s face was completely red and she looked like she wanted to punch Henry’s lights out. Her jaw was clenched and her fists were balled at her sides. Henry glanced around the room, taking in how many swords were just carelessly lying around it. He pitied anyone who tried to navigate this disaster in the dark. It was a dismemberment waiting to happen.

“I’ll tell Dad,” she said after a moment. “But let me do it on my terms.”

“No. Beth, you’re not doing it on your terms. You’re doing it on my terms,” Henry stated, holding firm. “You’re going to tell your father about this sometime before dinner or I’m going to tell him. And I’m going to be honest with you, if he hears it from me, he’s going to blow a gasket. And it’s going to be worse for you.”

“Fine,” she spat. “I’ll tell him before dinner, but if you tell him before the deadline, I will never forgive you. Now get out of my room.”

“I honestly wouldn’t expect anything else. But remember, tick tock goes the clock, Elizabeth,” Henry said with a sigh as he made his exit.

Henry went back downstairs where Harrison was showing Lucy and Neddy how to play better on Rockband. Neddy looked positively bored with it while Lucy’s cute face was screwed in concentration as she tried to follow her uncle’s meticulous instructions. Wes was laid out on the couch with a pillow over his head and Henry wouldn’t be surprised he was plotting everyone’s death underneath it. He watched them for a moment, waiting for Harrison’s lesson to end before approaching his daughter and placing a kiss on her head.

“What was that for?” she asked, looking a bit confused.

“No reason,” Henry smiled at her. “Just don’t be quick to grow up, okay?”

“Okay…”

It was a few more moments before Beth joined them, her lips still pursued in an angry frown and glaring at Henry every chance she got. Henry promptly did his best to ignore this behavior. If she wanted to act like a brat, then she could act like a brat. It just made him grateful she wasn’t going to be someone’s mother.

The glowering continued throughout the day and every time Henry caught her staring him down, he mouthed ‘tick tock’ at her. When they finally met up with their parents, Emma gave him a confused look when she saw him mouthing it at her.

“Do I even want to know what is going on?” she asked over dinner, watching as Killian and Beth walked outside of Granny’s to have their conversation.

Henry sighed.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said, following Emma’s gaze and watching his stepfather and sister through the window.

Killian and Beth talked outside for long while. Henry observed as Beth wrung her hands and looked at her feet, fidgeting profusely while Killian looked more and more pained with each word. At the end of their conversation, they hugged tightly and Killian kissed the top of his daughter’s head. Henry was slightly surprised with his reaction. He was expecting a little more anger out of Killian over the situation, but was glad that he wasn’t the one who had to break the news of the pregnancy scare fiasco.

After dinner and when they returned back to the house to watch a film before bed, Killian pulled Henry aside and clapped him on the back.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Killian said quietly. “Thank you for helping Beth out. I’m grateful that she was able to talk to you and get some help. Though I won’t lie, I’m a bit upset that she didn’t choose to come to me.”

“She loves you and she really doesn’t want to disappoint you,” Henry replied. “Don’t beat yourself up. It was a tough situation and I think she was afraid you would disown her.”

Killian scoffed.

“I’m not going to disown her because of some ridiculous boy. That’s absurd.”

Henry frowned. That didn’t sound right. There should be a lot more anger there regardless of the fact that Beth wasn’t actually pregnant.

“Killian, if you don’t mind me asking…what did Beth tell you?”

“She told me how she was having boy trouble with some kid who was trying to blackmail her into doing some repulsive things even by my standards,” Killian responded with a frown. He looked at Henry with a perplexed expression, eyes intensely searching his face. “Why is there more to the story that I need know?”

The corner of Henry’s mouth twitched as rage roared inside of him. He was furious at Beth for lying and putting him in this situation. She had said she was going to tell her father and had deceived them all. More than that, she hafd called him out on his bluff and put him in a hard situation. Henry firmly believed that Killian deserved to know what was going with Beth and that Beth really needed to talk to someone, preferably a professional, about the experience. At the same time, he understood why Beth didn’t tell Killian and knew if he told Killian the truth right now, Beth would never forgive him. He would lose the trust of his little sister.

Henry sighed and a ran through his hair, silently cursing his sister in the back of his head.

“Nothing,” Henry lied. “There’s nothing else to it at all.”

#captain swan #ouat ff #ouat fic #cs fic #cs ff #some captain cobra #little pirates #little pirates fic #my shit #my fic #no leg to stand on #beth jones

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kiss-my-freckle · 5 years

Text

6x1 & 6x2

“Life is full of lovely little ironies.” - Red

Red getting arrested in the rain. In conversation with Liz -

Red [5x17]: I’m not here hiding from American law enforcement. I could dodge those raindrops and never get wet.

Red facing a very public trial. In conversation with Ressler -

Red [5x10]: With all due respect, I didn’t kill Henry Prescott to protect you. I killed him to protect myself. The man knew the nature of my relationship with the FBI, and I couldn’t risk that information coming to light in a public trial.

Loving secrets.

Liz: This isn’t a game. Red: It could be. If the secrets you keep are as loving as the ones Dembe keeps. Well. That is interesting.

Jennifer: You can’t let him in. He can’t see me.

It took Liz a while to answer the door, and I’m sure Red heard the whispering. He checks out the closet first because it's open, then peeks around the other side.

Liz, acting stupid -

Red: Bad time? Liz: No. Red: May we? Liz: Hmm? Red: As a fugitive from justice, I prefer not to linger in public hallways.

Then pulling him away from the closet -

Dembe eyes it, so they both know someone’s in the closet. Because Jennifer stays hidden, Dembe and Red are left to assume either or - man or woman.

I’d consider Keenler a “loving” secret if Red were to assume it.

Remember this convo in S4?

Red: You speak Italian? Dembe: There was a girl. Red: Of course there was.

Ressler.

Ressler and Liz are on site for Dr. Koehler and The Corsican.

6x1 -

Ressler: The ID on the dead guy turned up as fake, but we sent the prints to Interpol and we got a hit. Red: Tell me. Ressler: Not until you tell us why you gave us this case because it obviously wasn’t so we could arrest Dr. Koehler and expose his clients. Red: Hans Koehler was a friend of mine. I suspected he was being held against his will. I wanted to save his life. Sadly, I failed.

6x2 -

Cooper: Ressler, Keen, get to New York. There’s an assassin in the city, and we need to find him.

Ressler: If you’re good with it, I’m good with it. Liz: I already told you, I’m good with it. Ressler: What am I missing? See, I know you, and I know there’s no way that you’re okay with Reddington killing a guy in our custody so he wouldn’t have to identify that skeleton. No, you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on, I’m okay with it. But don’t insult me by saying you’re good with it. Liz: Thank you. Ressler: For what? For being okay with it.

The Corsican’s escape.

Samar: Moreau, Bastien. I need you to notify security he’s on site and Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. No, I do not have a positive ID, but you need to put the facility on lockdown and hold all passengers. Man on radio: Code three, all responders. “White male. Mid-50s. May be armed.”

Red’s arrest.

Red: I need you to focus. Focus on what happened. How it happened. This wasn’t an accident. My luck didn’t just run out. Someone tipped them. Someone close. The cops were tipped off. Not specifically about me. That would’ve triggered a larger presence, and I would’ve noticed. Whoever did this told the cops as little as possible. Something about a “middle-aged white male carrying a concealed weapon.” Something a couple of cops could follow up on quietly, discreetly.

Liz and Red.

Liz: They won’t acknowledge the agreement. They’re not gonna release you. They’re gonna put you on trial.

Liz [in promo]: Cooper's been ordered not to inform the court about the task force. They're going to prosecute you.

Red: I need to find the person who betrayed me. Liz: So you can kill him?

Not “So you can kill THEM?”

But “So you can kill HIM.”

Liz [in promo]: He used you - Your decency. He knew you wouldn't lie about the immunity agreement. He knew you'd rather violate a direct order and damage your own career instead.

I suspect Red is using Cooper’s decency to smoke out who betrayed him.

Liz: He asked me to find out who tipped off the police. “It’s all that matters to him.” Not that he’s been arrested or - That he’s gonna be put on trial - And face the death penalty. “All he cares about” is finding out who betrayed him.

Red is confident he’ll win -

Red: One way or the other, I’ll be set free. Indictments and trials are obviously the hard way. The easy way is for you and your family to suddenly become grotesquely rich, buy one of those offensive mega-yachts, and travel the oceans like a nouveau Jacques Cousteau. Baldwin: Is that a bribe? Red: A statement of fact.

Holt: Let me be clear. You will never be free again. You’ll be tried, convicted, held in a federal prison until we execute you. Red: As pleasant as that sounds, I’m afraid I’ve made other arrangements. Holt: This is gonna be fun. Red: Winning always is.

Red: Forget about the prosecutor and all this. I’ve been a step ahead of them for decades. I’m confident this won’t change that.

Confident despite the politics of it. In promo -

Red: Of course they are. The political animal. In the short run, justice always loses in politics. Liz: Aren't you worried. You've been indicted for at least half a dozen capital offenses. Red: I'm confident I'll prevail.

Red informs the judge he’ll be representing himself. Go figure.

1x2 -

Diane Fowler: His lawyers drafted this? Cooper: No. He did. Reddington represents himself in legal matters.

Overheard conversations.

Ressler: So we’re still doing his bidding. Cooper: I’m sorry, Agent Ressler? Ressler: Reddington. He shot an unarmed man in FBI custody just so that Keen couldn’t identify that skeleton that he’s been lugging around like his life depended on it.

Liz: Aram, what is it? Aram: He’s been arrested. Ressler: That’s great news. Aram: Great? Why would you say that? Ressler: The guy’s a killer. Aram: I know, but look. I know theoretically that I should be happy that someone who’s done what he’s done has finally been caught, but I’m not. I’m sad. Liz: Sad, about Moreau? Aram: Moreau? Ressler: You just said he was arrested. Aram: No. We haven’t found Moreau. We’re still working on that. Liz: Well, then who are you talking about? Aram: Mr. Reddington. Mr. Reddington is the one that’s been arrested. Liz: What? When? Aram: Less than an hour ago, he was uh, buying a pretzel. 30 years on the run, and a beat cop picks him up at a pretzel cart. Ressler: Where is he now? Aram: NYPD is holding him at the 27th. Liz: Well, we have to go get him out. Ressler: Police precinct, the most wanted man in America? There’s no getting him out. Liz: Of course we can. We - We, the government. We have an agreement. Ressler: Keen, he’s in the system now. Liz: Does Cooper know? Aram: He’s in with Panabaker. Ressler: She’s not gonna do anything. Liz: Is that what you know or what you want? Aram: No one wants that. Liz: For Reddington to get arrested so we don’t have to work with him anymore? Ressler: Go ahead, Keen, say it. I know it’s what you’re thinking. Aram: Thinking what? Ressler: That I called it in. Reddington’s whereabouts, that they arrested him because of me. Aram: That’s crazy. None of us would betray Mr. Reddington like that. Liz: I don’t believe you did it, but I do believe you’re relieved it happened. Ressler: Keen, all I do know is that it’s over, and nothing Cooper says is gonna change that.

It’s all that matters to Red. Finding out who betrayed him. That’s according to Liz, which I agree with. He doesn’t care at all about the trial. I don’t see Red pushing Cooper to put his career at risk. Ever. There’s no way Red would walk out of prison using his immunity agreement. The arrest was already made public. If he walked, he’d look like a rat. He’d just as well protect himself AND the Task Force. I think he’s gonna use his immunity agreement as bait to flush out who betrayed him, and I think Ressler will be his suspect because he’s already been given enough.

If Red assumes it, a loving secret Keenler affair.

Red: Bad time? A man he knows has feelings for Liz and will do anything for her. The woman he’s in love with, still upset she didn’t get to learn Red’s truth. Ressler’s statement in the Post Office.

Ressler: So we’re still doing his bidding. Reddington. He shot an unarmed man in FBI custody just so that Keen couldn’t identify that skeleton that he’s been lugging around like his life depended on it.

Life is full of lovely little ironies, facing a public trial.

Red: With all due respect, I didn’t kill Henry Prescott to protect you. I killed him to protect myself. The man knew the nature of my relationship with the FBI, and I couldn’t risk that information coming to light in a public trial.

To Red’s face after Koehler’s death.

Red: Tell me. Ressler: Not until you tell us why you gave us this case because it obviously wasn’t so we could arrest Dr. Koehler and expose his clients. The description Samar gave on The Corsican - with Ressler in the car. Doing the same to him as they did to Red even though Albrecht was already dead.

Man on radio: Code three, all responders. “White male. Mid-50s. May be armed.”

And Liz throwing it to a man.

Red: I need to find the person who betrayed me. Liz: So you can kill him?

So what it looks like, is Ressler replacing Tom in providing Liz answers.

Red: I’d say that depends.

#Rederina #current thoughts

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random-rescuer · 7 years

Text

Five

“Venus? Why would they have a base on Venus? There are so many… things on Venus.” I shuddered despite the sun on my skin and moved towards my apartment, hoping to forget about my time in the snow. Henry floated next to me and kept up with my brisk pace, all the while rattling off reasons why Venus was great. “It has the Vex- remember when we first saw them? And the Fallen, and the rain,- and we like the acid rain- oh! Remember when we got lost near Maat Mons? And you saw the sunset?” I nodded along with him and made my way into the building, narrowly avoiding a Ghost flying past. I tipped my head to the secretaries on my way to the elevators and looked around, trying to look bored. The word Venus echoed in my head and I walked into the elevator, pressing the button to go to the third floor. My mind flashed back to the day I talked to Sam in the tavern.

If he had a hideout on Venus, then why does he have an apartment here? Just in case something happens? Because it’s good to be close to other Guardians? My head spun with questions as I made my way to my apartment, quickly unlocking the door. I rushed in and inhaled the dusty air. I never stayed in my apartment long enough for there to be a smell. Most of the surfaces in here were covered in a thin layer of dust, and those that weren’t were things I took with me on my expeditions from time to time. I quickly unpacked my things and picked up a Vault tablet, moving things over and taking others out. I needed new armor, I remembered. Or a new set like this one. New chestplate, arms, and a new helmet. No, my helmet was fine, just dirty. I’ll stop by the Vanguard and get the stuff that Cayde was selling, then. I needed to give him the cloak from the Captain, too. “Henry, is the Vanguard in a meeting?” I asked, grabbing my backpack making my way into my room. I had to weave though all sorts of things dotting my apartment, including tons of weapons and various cloaks strewn across different surfaces. I stuffed a couple things into my backpack and grabbed two handfuls of Legendary Marks. “No, they’re not. I send a message to Cayde; told him you were going to stop by.” I grabbed a couple Exotic Shards and stuffed them into my backpack alongside materials. I fished the note out of my pocket and held it in my hand as I left my apartment. I made sure I had the cloak I was going to give Cayde and left Felwinter’s, heading towards the City. The Tower was beautiful, I’d have to admit. Everyone working and moving in unison eased my nerves. “Henry, take a look at the coordinates and the code on this. I want to know exactly where we’re going.” I opened my palm and the note went into Transmat, most likely being studied by Henry.

I strode through the Tower and made my way into the Hall of Guardians, nodding and saying hello to the familiar faces that had so much influence on my younger self. The doors to the hall were open, and I took in the familiarity of the scene. Ikora reading, as always, Zavala studying old battle tapes, and Cayde, looking at the same map he’s stared at since I first saw him. None of them seemed to notice me walk in so I strode around, running a hand along the various books dotting the bookshelves. I’m sure Ikora read them six times over. I stopped near the head of the table and pulled the hood of my cloak down, letting my features smile. “Long time no see.” I commented. Their heads snapped up and I noticed Zavala and Ikora smiled widely. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How’s my favorite Hunter?” Cayde asked, sauntering over to me. His Ghost trailed behind him, always relaxed. He held out his hand for a high five and I gladly returned it. “Well,” I started, taking a seat on the glass table. “I took care of your Captain problem.” I pulled the cloak out of my backpack and put it onto the table next to him, watching as he let out a laugh. He lightly pushed the cloak back to me and I took it, holding it in my arms. “Keep it.” He said. “It’s your spoil of war. Your Ghost told me you’re looking for new armor?” Cayde snapped his fingers and sets of armor feel out of Transmat and onto the table next to me in a loud clatter, making everyone in the room stop and look. “Cayde, watch it.” Ikora warned, her eyes flicking up from her book to give him a warning glance. Cayde merely shrugged and went back to sorting through the armor.

“So, what do you need? I got a new set, fresh from my other Hunters. I call it the KD Bogatyr 2.0. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” I nodded along with him and pointed to the arms and the chestplate. “I love the name. How much for both?” I asked, taking them from him. “No cost. Take what you need.” I stared at Cayde. Armor is never free. “You don’t want anything? No Marks, no Shards, nothing?” I was surprised. Cayde shook his head. “Nothing. You deserve it. Where are you heading?” I quickly replaced the armor and the note fell out of Transmat and floated in the air, rotating so Cayde could see it. He scanned the paper quickly and lightly waved it back to me with his hand. I stuffed it in my back pocket and sat back on the table, leaning to look at the titles on the books stacked on Ikora’s side of the table. “Venus, House Winter’s Lair. Well, used-to-be lair, anyways. Before you… k’now.” Cayde ran his finger across his neck and I laughed along with him. “It’s around that area, and the jumble of letters and numbers looks to be…” “A radio frequency.” Henry finished, appearing next to me.

“You know,” Ikora started. “I know of a certain fireteam that’s located around there. That frequency? Changes every few days, and rumor has it they know more of Venus than anyone else there. Their base is a trek, so pack accordingly. Who gave it to you?” She asked. “Sam.” I murmured. Why would he have a base all the way out there? It’s bad enough it was on Venus, but all they way out there? I noticed Ikora smiled once again and dog-eared the page in her book. She walked over to me and patted my back while Cayde and Zavala started to chuckle. “Why did you even ‘assign’ him to me, anyways? I can take care of myself.” The laughter died down and Ikora’s hand stilled on my shoulder.

“Crystal. We understand your reason for… staying away for a few months at a time and exploring the Dead Zones, but you activating beacons is the only way for us to know if you’re still alive. It makes us worry sometimes. We had no other choice but to ask Sam to keep an eye on you.” Ikora’s silky voice carried throughout the room and eased my nerves. I couldn’t decide if she were using magic on me or not. “Okay, if you say so. I just… I wish you told me. I didn’t even know him, either! I don’t know, it just freaks me out having someone watch my every move, especially when it’s someone I don’t know.” I crossed my arms and looked down, feeling like a child who was about to get a light scolding.

“We understand, but it was for your own good.” Zavala told me, looking up from his tablets. “Believe it or not, we do care about you; all of us do. We want to keep an eye on you, is all. We couldn’t have our favorite disappearing on us, now could we?” His voice held so much hope and happiness that it almost made me grimace. If only they knew… if only they understood. “Okay, I believe you. I should get going before they change their frequency.” My mood went into a downhill spiral and I let it, content with the fact that I’ll be out and on my own for a while. Zavala, Cayde, and Ikora gave me a hug and sent me on my way, wishing me well. Maybe I’ll see them soon. My mind flashed back to broken memories and I couldn’t help but to let out a small curse. I numbly made my way through the tower and dropped the cloak in my Vault before heading out, instructing Henry to drop us as close as he can possibly get us.

“You haven’t scouted Venus in years. It’s the only place you don’t have many maps of. We should do that sometime, you know? Maybe break into one of the Clovis Bray labs and find something new.” Henry suggested. The ship tilted a small bit as it adjusted course and Venus zoomed into view not too long after. My ship slowed from travel and I leaned forward a small bit from the sudden slowdown. A small headache made its presence known and I rubbed my temples to get it away. “Maybe. I just don’t like… I don’t like the Vex. I can deal with everything else but them.” Even from this far away, I could spot various Vex structures reaching their way into space. Chills ran down my spine and I closed my eyes, willing the nightmarish thoughts of what lurked underneath the planet’s surface away. I couldn’t be afraid, not now. Now when I was trying to find this group.

“Can you try and look for their frequency from here? Lock it down so we know what direction we’re going in, at least?” I asked Henry, hoping to hear some sort of response. Instead, the ship tilted towards the planet and began its slow descent, almost like it were mocking me. My breath quickened and suddenly the ship felt too small for me. “Stop, stop, stop, stop,” I whispered to myself. I couldn’t freak out. I couldn’t. My hands raked and pulled at my hair and I briefly wondered if I was even strong enough to pull it out. I forced my hands out of my hair and held them in front of me, watching them shake. Where was Henry when I needed him?

“Henry,” I whispered. “Henry, get me out of this ship. Get me out of here!” My breath was even shorter now and I watched as my ship tipped forward and went straight down to the planet, just barely staying under warp speed. We entered the atmosphere and then neared the ground and I could hear the acid rain hitting the ship hard. A storm raging outside to match the one in my head and in my heart. It leveled out and the landscape whipped across, never slowing down. The rain still hammered my ship and I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the perfect storm. I couldn’t even breathe I was so frenzied. The ship slowed down and never fully stopped before Transmatting me out and onto the ground below. I hit the ground hard and fell onto my knees, immediately pressing the release on my helmet. I pulled it off as quickly as I could and gagged on the smell of the air. The rain burned my face but I paid it no attention as I let out a scream that voiced everything I was feeling. I was sure I alerted someone but I couldn’t find the strength to care, instead screaming for all it was worth before calming down some. I used my gloved hand to wipe the burning rain away and pulled my helmet back onto my head. The clean, filtered air hit my face and I breathed it in, washing the stinging air out of my lungs. It didn’t burn as much as Ether did, but it was close.

“We’re as close as we could get.” Henry told me. “I was looking for somewhere to land.” My anger flared up at the small amount of Light that made my companion. “Thanks for telling me that sooner.” Sarcasm laced my voice and I started to follow the marker on my radar, quickly talking in my surroundings. The rain hammered onto my armor and I could just barely smell the sulfur that permeated the atmosphere. My nose wrinkled instinctively and I clipped my gun onto my back, letting my arms be free.

“I can only do so much. I’m scanning for the frequency as you move, but it’s going to be a while before I pin it down to one location. Just keep moving.” Henry replied, his slightly- robotic voice echoing through my head. He didn’t even seem mad, it felt like. I knew he understood me more than I probably understood myself, but sometimes I couldn’t help but get annoyed or angry at him. My thoughts flicked back to how close Julian and his Ghost, Screw, were. They were completely synced with each other. Everything they did was… perfect. I ducked under a tree and kept moving forward, determined to find Sam.

“Why do you even want to find these guys, anyways? I thought you decided to be a lone wolf since Valkyrie disbanded.” Henry asked, changing the marker a little. I adjusted my course and continued on, suppressing any memories that came up. “No, not a- not that. I just… I needed to be alone. I still need to. Or maybe I don’t, I don’t know.” His question did spike my interest, though. I didn’t even know why I wanted to find this team, or why I was so intrigued with Sam. I just felt the sudden urge to meet back with him. To meet… other Guardians who didn’t know about my past. “I just feel like I needed to.” I answered, my voice final. Henry got the message and started to play music, mixing in some of the newer tunes we found on Earth. I hummed the foreign lyrics and soldiered on, letting my mind flow with the music as I lost track of time and purpose. All I was doing is following a marker and the music in my heart.

“I found the signal. It’s in a clearing just ahead, past the Vex structure. I can’t detect any enemies, but keep your guard up anyways. I’m going to try and tap into the frequency; see if I get find someone on the comms. Traveler, maybe I’ll even be able to find Sam’s comm. Give me a few minutes. Just wait here and stay on guard. I’m leaving our comm signal open.” I let out a sigh of relief and practically ran to the clearing. I stood on the outskirts and the back of my neck prickled. I did as Henry said and kept my guard up and observed the clearing. There was a large circle of dirt that looked scorched, almost, and the Venus grass surrounded it. The trees around me looked a bit scorched as well, and I wondered if it was like that because of many battles here or because of the work of a Sunsinger. I walked to the middle of the dirt circle and sat down, making sure to look at ease and relaxed for whatever might be watching me.

“This is Eagle to Diamond, I have eyes on target. I repeat, I have eyes on target. Standing by.” A voice crackled through my helmet and then strengthened as the voice spoke. A female named… Eagle? “Diamond to Eagle, message received. Patch her into the- never mind, she’s in already. Smart Ghost. Wander, rendezvous with Eagle. I’ll meet with the target.” Sam’s voice came through and I jumped up, trying to look around to spot this Eagle person.

“I’m patched in their comms, obviously. Their positions are still classified as of- hold that thought, I just got access to Sam’s. He’s on your map now, heading towards you.” Henry informed me, appearing in front of me. I watched the blue dot grow nearer and saw Sam come out from behind a tree, in his full gear. He gave me a wave and he met me just outside of the dirt circle. He extended a hand towards me and I shook it, watching my reflection on his helmet. It was so shiny.

“I take it you’re interested in joining us?” Sam asked. I nodded a small bit but still kept myself on guard. “Who is ‘us’?” I questioned, slightly looking behind him. I could no longer feel the prickling on the back of my neck but I still couldn’t relax. Sam turned around and made a ‘come here’ motion with his hand, back where he came from. Six other Guardians stepped out from where Sam came from with a Hunter at the lead. “This is ‘us.’ There’s me, James, Zachary, and Mark, who’re Warlocks, Anna and Ryan, who’re Titans, and Emily is our Hunter. Hopefully she won’t be our only one after today, if you catch my drift.” Each Guardian, excluding Sam, gave me a nod or a wave as their name was said and I did the same back, feeling my shoulders relax. One of them was watching me not too long ago. That’s better than the Vex or Fallen watching me.

“I didn’t come all this way for small talk.” I felt myself smile and Sam laughed, as well as a few of the others. “Follow us, then. Jackal and Blueberry, take point and I’ll stay in the back. Everyone else, you know what to do.” The group started to move and I was in between the Hunter, Emily, and one of the Warlocks. “What’s with the callsigns? This isn’t dangerous.” I commented, watching as we moved ahead with speed. Four Guardians branched off and made their way into the tree line, while two of the others, the ones Sam called Jackal and Blueberry, ran ahead to join them, leaving just me and Sam. I could hear them talking over the comms and wondered if any of them got headaches from hearing so many voices talking at once.

“It’s something most Guardians do when they’re in huge fireteams. It’s easier to remember them than names in the field. Do you have one? If not, we can always give you one.” Sam’s question threw me off-guard. I slowed down and his side bumped mine a little too hard and almost knocked me off my feet. I reached out to try and grab something to keep me from falling and my hand caught Sam’s elbow, who steadied me immediately. He put his two hands on my shoulders and squeezed them lightly, making sure I didn’t fall or wobble. My head swirled with missions and patrols with my old fireteam, and I couldn’t figure out how I was supposed to tell Sam that I did indeed have a callsign, given to me by my former teammates. “Woah, there. You steady?” He asked. He pushed my shoulder lightly and got me walking again, himself not too far behind.

“Queen,” I murmured. “It’s Queen.” I pushed forward and did my best to lock all rouge thoughts away and instead focused on the muted sound of the rain hitting my helmet and the ground. We were deep in the forest now, and I could barely see the others amongst the green and blue of Venus. Now I understood why most of their armor was shaded in greens and blues; they wanted to blend in and not be seen. It was smart. “Henry, do I still have my Sunglow shader? Or my Ointment shader? If so, can you paint my armor in that?” A second passed before my armor flashed and the familiar blues and whites of Sunglow coated my armor instead of Sunsetting. “Nice,” Sam commented, matching my pace. “you’re going to fit right in.”

We walked for a few miles and the trees gave way to a huge abandoned-looking fallen base, with vines and tree roots growing on and around it. It was unclear on why we’re here, but my coordinates told me that this is where Ikora said she had a fireteam located. The team, save for me and Sam, were already gathered in front of the base. They stood in a half-circle and kicked at the grass aimlessly. “You guys don’t have to wait for me, go and head inside. You too, Queen. I’ll be inside in a bit.” Everyone nodded and the Hunter, Emily, I think her name was, waved me over to them. I followed silently and took note of everything, down to where they entered the Fallen base.

“We use this base to blend in with the environment,” One of the Titans explained. “when we were mapping the area a real long time ago we came across this, already abandoned by the Fallen. Since we were going to map more around here, we set it up as a temporary base, but it became permanent after we were assigned here by Ikora.” I nodded along and watched as Emily pulled back a couple of vines to reveal a rusted door. A red keypad glowed next to it and she typed in a code, too quick for me to get all the numbers. The pad glowed green and she pulled the door open, making sure everyone was inside before pulling it shut. I caught her quick look back and moved on, taking in the huge space. It looked like all but a couple walls were cleared out, and all the technology was, too. Drapes and curtains hung from everywhere, and seemed to section off every space. Couches, chairs, and tables littered the space. What was sectioned off had signs over it, one of them reading ‘Bedrooms’ and another saying ‘Armory.’ Everyone moved around the base with speed, going to different places and then rotating around. It seemed like a perfect harmony, and I suddenly felt awkward. I couldn’t help but think I was messing up their routines.

“Jump right in when you feel comfortable,” One of the Titans told me. Anna, I think her name was. “usually we just start somewhere and then rotate around, and when we’re done we hang around or go back out to patrol solo or in groups. Sam’s our leader, so if he tells us we need to do something, then we get our normal stuff done then do what he asks. All he really told us was to make sure you get settled and set up a room. Emily and I will help you with that; the boys volunteered not to do it. I’ll send your Ghost the specifics, like a map of the base and surrounding area, codes to get into hideouts, and a few other things. I’ll take you to your room. Bear in mind, it’s a bit… bland, but the essentials are in there. All you have to do is make it your own. Best thing is placing items into Transmat and then dropping them here, so you don’t have to carry things in your backpack. We have a lot of Vault systems here and a bounty system, from every person that gives ‘em. They’re updated every day so there’s always something new to do. When people like the Vanguard or the Reef want to get into touch, the big board will display comm codes and who they’re designated for. One rule about those, though: Don’t go into anyone else’s messages or codes. Some of it is really personal, and out here, we’d all like parts of our lives to ourselves. And here we are, your room. Did I mention you can live anywhere? This base doesn’t have to be a permanent home. Sam and Ryan live in Felwinter’s together as roommates and a few of the others have places elsewhere, too. I think James has family back at the City, but I can’t say for certain. Oh! Here’s the door to your bathroom, and this is the door to an extra room. You can use it for whatever you want, really. I know a few of the boys keep extra armor in there and Emily uses it as an extra room, in case she wants to sleep in there, instead. I use mine as a workshop of sorts, so I can clean and modify my weapons. There’s a Vault pad in here somewhere… here! The walls are magnetic so you can put a bunch of stuff on there. I’ll stick the pad to it, so it doesn’t get lost. I’ll give you some time to get settled in, so just let me know if you need anything!” Anna left the room quickly and I was finally left alone, in my new… room. She’s nice, but damn, does she like to talk. I could get used to it, but right now it was really intimidating, especially because I’m not too good at conversation.

My eyes flicked over to the extra room and I wondered what Sam used his for. My thoughts drifted towards a library, or even just a storage closet. “You could use it for drawing,” Henry suggested, noticing my staring. I didn’t even notice him appear. “it looks like there’s a window in there; a pretty big one. I think it opens…” He floated into the room and his voice echoed some. “Is it… is it a big room?” I asked, walking over to the door. I peeked in and I could see the room was huge, almost as big as my apartment. I could see why Anna uses hers as a workshop; it was big enough to fit everything she needed.

“I could fit our apartment in here twice over.” I mumbled. My mind raced as ideas came into my head about what I could put in here. I didn’t walk past the doorframe out of nervousness and let my eyes pass over the room. I leaned on the doorframe and crossed my arms over my chest, tucking my one foot behind the other. I stared into the room for a long while and just daydreamed, letting my mind wander. I leaned my head on the doorframe and shut my eyes, taking a minute to relax.

“That doesn’t look comfortable.” I jumped at the voice and instinctively reached for my knife strapped to my back. I pulled it out in a blink and held it out in front of me. “You scared the shit out of me! I was about to kill you!” I yelled to Sam, who held his hands up in mock-surrender. “Sorry. You were leaning there for a while; thought you were asleep or something.” I sheathed my knife and tried to pull myself together. I leaned my hip against the doorframe and acted as naturally as I could, hoping he didn’t notice my shaky hands. “It’s alright. I guess I did fall asleep, though. Feels like I was standing here for hours. What time is it?” I busied my hands and massaged a knot in my neck with the heel of my hand, watching as Sam called for his Ghost. “Looks like it’s... five in the evening.” “Shit! It’s already five?” I preformed a small pat-down on myself to make sure I had everything I needed and started making my way out of the base, racking my brain for anything I might need for my trip.

“You have a date or something?” Sam called behind me, jogging a small bit to keep up with my brisk pace. “Something like that.” I replied distractedly, adjusting the hood of my cloak. I pulled off a rouge thread and kept moving forward, stopping at the door that led outside. I pulled my helmet on and decided to keep the hood down until I got outside. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” Sam asked, opening the door for me. I stepped outside and pulled my hood over my helmet, clipping it into place. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know what’s on my schedule tomorrow.” “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Queen.” I caught the hint of a smile on Sam’s face before he shut the door, leaving me on my own. I whispered an all-too-late goodbye to the door and moved forward, disappearing into the jungles of Venus.

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