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nazyalenskyy-archive · 4 years

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mini big bang!

written for the grishaverse mini big bang, run by @grishaversebigbang

Thanks to my other gang member’s @punchsomeoneforme-willyou and @6crowgang for their amazing art!! (x) (x)

also known as i try to write crack. i also don’t know how to dye things or what the slat is like or what the van eck manor is like or if they have the word goth in grishaverse. I also don’t care. AND I don’t know how to put cuts in tumblr posts i’m very sorry.

At the time, letting Nina give out the dares had felt like a good idea. Now Jesper wasn’t sure he wanted to do any dare remotely involved with Kaz. She would have been better off getting Inej to do it, frankly. He was more suited to being a distraction – it was the charming personality no one could resist – and she was more suited to climbing into windows and sneaking around the slat. They’d been playing truth or dare and Nina’s idea – and it was brilliant – had been to dye the entirety of Kaz’s wardrobe a vibrant lime green. It would have their names written all over it of course, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be fun.

The lime green dye, that Inej had flatly refused to tell him where she procured, was carefully balanced in his outside pockets. Due to the colour of said jacket, spilling it was hardly a catastrophe, but it might ruin the prank. With some flimsy excuses and much avoidance Jesper finally reached the room where Kaz slept. The wardrobe, he discovered as he opened it, was full of Kaz’s typical black clothing. Saints, this would be hilarious. He frowned and pulled out a jacket of Kaz’s and tossed it onto the bed. It wasn’t exactly something you were ever taught – how to put dye onto clothing. Kaz’s whole wardrobe consisted of the black tailored suits he insisted on wearing ironically to spite mercher’s or whatever. It was terribly boring in Jesper’s opinion.

He sighed and glanced at the jacket on the bed. According to Inej, you had to get a bucket of water (prepared by the Wraith herself), squirt the dye in and then the clothes followed. Inej hadn’t sounded particularly sure. Eh, there wasn’t much to lose. Pulling the dye from his pocket and unscrewing the lid, he somewhat carelessly emptied it into the bucket in front of him. The green of the dye fused seamlessly into the water, it looked like magic. Maybe it was. He hoped Inej could keep Kaz distracted for long enough, and dropped the first piece of clothing in. At this point he was stuck, again. Did you just leave the clothing in there? Take it out instantly? Who could say? Staring at it was unfortunately not going to yield him any answers.

He was pretty sure he’d heard somewhere you were supposed to stir it too, but there wasn’t exactly anything to use. In the end, deciding he’d get the job done a bit quicker if he did three garments at a time, he just left each in for ten minutes. The first set didn’t look all too bad. Aside from the fact they were soaking (Jesper had hung them up on hangers in various places on the top floor of the slat which was still mercifully quiet), they definitely looked like some form of green. After an hour of somewhat boring dyeing of clothes Jesper was satisfied Kaz had nothing left in his wardrobe that wasn’t at least a little bit green. The boredom would be worth it for the look on his face, which Jesper would be preferably seeing from a distance.

Grinning, he made to leave but instantly stopped in his tracks. There were footsteps. Kaz. Followed by laughter. Not Kaz. He breathed a sigh of relief and popped his head around the door.

“Inej?” He frowned as she and Nina reached the top of the stairs and slid past him into the room holding arms full of red and purple dye. “Nina?”

“We thought we should help,” Inej said, casting a pitying look at Kaz’s room. “But it looks like you have it covered.” Her eyes caught onto one of Kaz’s suits, which was now drying and proving to be a very neon shade of green, and she burst out laughing. “He’s going to me so mad.” Jesper and Nina both snorted.

“I would have liked to see him in a pink suit too,” Jesper mused, eyeing the dye Nina was holding. He scanned the room for something else to dye and found the stack of paper on Kaz’s desk. Nina grinned.

“Anyone know how to dye paper?” she queried and went over to the stack. They did not, but the concept of Kaz sending all his letters and memos and doing his paperwork on bright pink paper was far too much of an opportunity to pass up. So they could at least try.

Nina tried squirting the dye on the paper. It didn’t go well. Inej just dropped it straight in the bucket. That didn’t yield much either. It was finally Jesper who tried using the sink and slowly dipping the paper into the dye. It truly was vibrant pink. Brilliant.

“Pink paper is the only proper way to send threatening correspondence,” Nina remarked approvingly. Jesper turned to Inej, but she was gone. All that was left were a set of purple footprints where she’d been.

“Oh saints, Nina,” He pointed to them, and for a moment considered being concerned. But honestly, it just added to the joke. With a glance at his own shoes he realised they were coated in the garish green paint he’d begun with.

“You know,” She said slowly, eyebrow raised, “This, this could definitely be exploited.” Both red and pink dye was very abundantly on the side of Nina’s boots. They were not experts in cautiousness, clearly. She ran out the room and back in, leaving reddish footprints in her wake. The wooden floor of the slat was in dire need of a spruce up.

The two of them followed Inej’s purple footprints down the trailing stairs, and Jesper couldn’t help but wonder why she’d left. Then it hit him.

“If you and Inej are here, who’s distracting Kaz?” He frowned, Nina looked a little guilty.

“We didn’t want to miss all the fun.” She admitted.

“It's hardly fun! I was not especially good at that dying business. It's more complicated than it looks. And it took me ages.” He grumbled.

“Sorry,” She muttered. “But that’s a good point. No one is distracting Kaz.”

“Brilliant.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Jesper couldn’t resist a glance back at the stairs, now coated in gaudy dyes. Anika was leaning against the wall ahead of them, a very confused look on her face. Jesper merely grinned, and Nina put a finger to her lips. Jesper barely had time to blink, before Inej slid soundless around the corner and stood in front of them.

“Kaz is on his way back. Closet.” She said quickly. Then glanced at the floor. “Actually, run around a bit first.”

So, looking undoubtably extremely stupid, they began do run in circles around the floor. It was coated in multicolour by the time Inej finally usher them towards the closet that Jesper wasn’t entirely sure was supposed to be there.

“Go on! He’ll be here soon. It will be boring if he sees us before the rest of it.”

Jesper looked warily at the closet. It didn’t look like all three of them would fit.

“Please just get in the closet.”

“Oh not again,” He muttered before he could stop himself. Inej pulled the door shut from the inside, somehow, and Jesper had been right. It was a little left of comfort. Not that he would have wanted to be anywhere else the moment Kaz walked through that door. The look on his face, which Jesper could just about see between the doors of the closet, was priceless.

“What the fuck?” Kaz spluttered. It was all Jesper could do to not burst out laughing. Kaz began to angrily head towards the stairs, and by the time he was halfway up, Inej, Jesper and Nina had slipped away into Ketterdam.

***

They’d been out for waffles, as a celebration for their hard work. None of them could be bothered to go back to the Van Eck Manor straight away, and well, this was fun.

“Maybe we should have painted the bedsheets in the shape of a waffle,” Nina mused, as she finished second plate. Inej glanced at the various plates that had once had waffles on them scattered across the table.

“Maybe, but I think eating them is more fun.” Nina nodded in agreement.

“What do you think he’ll do?” Jesper mused.

“He’ll either not speak to us for a week, or Inej’s boat and your house will be bright orange by the time we get back. It’s a toss up.” Nina shrugged.

“I could live with the house being orange. Not sure what Wylan would think…”

“I could build a brand out of an orange boat,” Inej added.

“Not exactly scary though is it. Not instilling fear into the hearts of your enemies. Oh dear god, here comes the fearsome captain Inej Ghafa and her orange boat.” Jesper snorted.

“Hey!” Inej protested, snatching a waffle from his plate. “I’m plenty scary enough myself.”

“You sure are, that was my waffle!”

“Care to steal it back?” She smirked, taking a bit. He did not.

They probably kept the waffle place open past the closing time, and by the time they trudged back to manor sometime that evening, Nina’s predictions were almost true.

Wylan stood outside the manor, arms folded and a sceptical look on his face. He looked quite cute if you asked Jesper, if a little annoyed. The manor looked fine from the outside. Same as it always was.

“Did you think it would be funny to provoke Kaz so much that I return home to an entirely different coloured house?” He grumbled as they approached.

“I feel like I’m being berated by a puppy,” Nina remarked and Wylan glared at her.

“Oh come on merchling, it can’t be that bad?” Jesper raised an eyebrow, but the look on Wylan’s face suggested otherwise. To be fair, he’d made a similar face when Jesper had been trailing green around the house that morning.

“Kaz has Gothified the house,” Wylan retorted, pushing open the door. Jesper blinked incredulously. The entire thing was a strange shade of black grey that completely sucked the colour out of it. Again trailing green footprints around the place, he dashed through the house. Room after room was the same. Hell, even the food was dyed. Or painted. Whatever this was.

It would have been funny, if it wouldn’t be so bloody hard to undo.

“How did he manage this?” Nina was saying incredulously as he returned. “We were only gone a few hours.” Inej looked smug.

“What did you do Wraith?” Jesper asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at her.

“A magician never reveals their secrets. Kaz won’t, and nor will I,” She retorted smugly. Behind him, he heard Wylan snort.

“You complained when I put a few footprints in the house this morning,” Jesper protested. “Now the whole house is painted.”

“Well, you could put them in now. It might add character.” Even Jesper had to snort at that. He glanced at the black bucket of dye left outside the door, and he could have sworn he’d heard a click of Kaz’s cane in the distance.

“Very subtle,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“This is insane,” Nina said pointedly to Inej.

“Maybe so,” The smaller girl said, but she was grinning.

Behind them, Jesper heard a muttered “Demjin.”

He didn’t know where Matthias had come from, but maybe this time he was right.

#gvbb #grishaverse mini bang #grishaverse #soc #six of crows #my writing #soc fic #my fic

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simp4cas · 4 years

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It Was Never Us

Dean Winchester × Reader

Chapter 0 | Prologue

Characters: Dean Winchester, Arthur Ketch, Charlie Bradbury and some dick angels :)

Summary: Dean visits the Acopalyptic Universe in search of Mary and Jack with Arthur Ketch. There he sees someone he hadn't seen in more than seven years.

Warning: Death

It Was Never Us Masterlist

Credit to @talesmaniac89 for this cool anti possession text divider

Dean walks ahead of Ketch, ducking under the dead branches of trees and plants as he passes under the bridge, the stream beside him flowing quietly. Apocalyptic world was definitely no party- there was hardly anyone there and it gave him an odd feeling. He sighs at the decayed body tied to a tree with barbed wires, the rotting smell invading his lungs. This world wasn't as dark as his nightmares but it was scary enough.

The Winchester looks sideways at Ketch, already wishing Sam, his brother was here with him. Especially since Ketch was wearing a black tactical suit that made him look like an idiot.

"Well, this is quite the vacation spot, isn't it?" Ketch says and walks up to stand beside Dean as the two of them looked at the expanse of the forest before them, not knowing the way around the world. They didn't know where to go- Dean was hoping they would have seen someone- anyone to ask for help but it was barren.

"Yeah, if you had your heart set on Mai Tais, well," Dean pauses, taking a breath, "sorry." He turns to Ketch. He freezes for a second when he sees a few people walking on the bridge.

"Is this everyone?" The leader asks and another man answers with a, "Yes, commander."

"For high crimes for fermenting rebellion against the archangel, Micheal, these humans shall be executed."

Behind a few men dressed in camo, there were four people with black woolen cloths pulled over their heads and shackles around their wrists. "Down, down. Get down," Dean whispers and pushes Ketch back, them both hiding behind some dead bushes. He looks back up, noticing that each hostage had a man dressed in camo holding their arm. Finally, they come to a stop in the middle of the bridge and stop, the hostages forming a line in front of who seemed the leader of the men.

Angels. Obviously, it would be those dicks. The angel who looked like the 'commander's' assistant, walks towards one of the people.

Since the woman who's bag had been pulled off her head was standing the furthest from where Dean was, he could only see above her shoulders through the railings of the bridge. It was enough to see the angel place his hand on her forehead and burn her eyeballs out.

The woman's shouts makes something click inside Dean and he moves to stand up from his kneeling position and to open up the duffel bag at his side to get his angel killing bullets out. "Freakin' angels," Dean grits out. He had come to this world before but didn't think things would be that...bad.

But executions like these? He wondered what else angels- Micheal had done to them. Ketch's hand flies to Dean's arm, pulling the Winchester back down and shaking his head he says slowly, "Not. Smart." Gritting his teeth, Dean looks back up, his hands aching to kill the angels.

Another person's bag was pulled off and he was dead in a matter of seconds. There were only two left on the bridge now. Both women by the looks of it. The angel moves to the second last person, pulling off her bag too.

"No," Dean mutters, taking in the red hair, the cheekbones. It couldn't be. Dean looks on with wide eyes and heart thumping in his chest as the leader angel stops the other one from killing her. "Charlie?" Dean asks to no one in particular.

"I know you," the leader angel says, taking a step forward towards Charlie. "You're not the usual human scout."

Human scout?

"Not the sickest hookup line, Captain Charm," Charlie says back loud enough for Dean to hear. He could see the small smile playing on her lips.

"You're with the Resistance," the angel remarks again, enunciating his words carefully. "Inner circle." The angel turns back to look at his second-in-command, only removing his eyes off Charlie for two seconds. "She's met with the Nephilim and the other worlder- Mary."

Oh shit. She met with them. For some reason, Dean's heart soared with the words- maybe cause it meant that Mary and Jack were safe and alive.

"Micheal will want her at the Northern Camp for interrogation."

"Champ, when the Resistance crushes you, I'm gonna be there to shred your feathers and grind them into dust," Charlie grits out and Dean notices the woman standing next to her struggling with her shackles slightly before the angel lunges forward and chokes the red-head. Dean gnashes his teeth together, trying to get up again and make that son of a bitch regret touching Charlie when Ketch pulls Dean down again and says his name to him in a warning tone.

"Looking forward to it," the angel replies and looks to the last hostage on the bridge before turning to one of the angels standing behind her and saying, "Kill her." With that, he and a few more left with Charlie, leaving behind only the last woman and an angel. Dean needed to save Charlie. He would save her this time. But he also had to save the woman on the bridge.

The dark-skinned angel pulls the bag off the woman's head and Dean's heart stops. The whole world seemed to stop as he took in who was standing there. Someone he hadn't seen in more than seven years. "Y/n?"

"Do you know everyone here?" Ketch whispers irritatedly but Dean ignores him. He takes another breath in.

"He's going to kill her," Dean grits out and this time, Ketch doesn't stop him from getting his gun out and standing up.

"Hey, I'm part of the Resistance too," Y/n says, taunting a reaction from the angel with his hand a few inches from her forehead. "Inner circle." Dean took a step forward, not wanting to let the angel know he was there but to get close enough to get a clean shot at the man and not at Y/n.

The angel didn't react- didn't have a chance to before Dean shouted, "Y/n! Duck!" Not even questioning it, Y/n drops to the ground, as if she knew someone was going to save her- shout those words.

Three bullet shots echo in the air, the loud bang making Dean's ears ring slightly. He sees the angel fall down and without waiting for Ketch or turning back to get his duffel bag, he ran. He ran, clawing the barks of trees to run up the steep slope to get to the bridge. If it was actually Y/n who he saw then...

Taking a deep breath, he takes a step forward onto the concrete bridge, steps faltering when he sees Y/n standing up, the chains on her arms restricting her movement. She immediately spots him standing there and takes a step back from him. Dean knew his mouth was hanging. He knew it yet he didn't close it. He knew his eyes were widened yet he made no move to narrow them. He didn't know what to do except for looking stupidly at her. A part of him frowned at how she didn't say his name in the way he loved, soft, and happily. But she didn't know him. Didn't know about them. How they were before...

Meanwhile, Y/n was assessing the situation. She looked between the gun in the man's hand and the dead angel's body sprawled on the bridge along with the other two people. "Who are you?" she finally asked, taking a deep breath when she realized that the man had saved her. But the way he was looking at her made her uncomfortable and she took a small step back, suddenly feeling weak and vulnerable with no weapons and handcuffs on her wrists.

"My name is Arthur Ketch." Dean turns back, breaking away from his trance to see the ex British Man of Letters walking towards them, hands up to show he had no weapons. Dean turns back to Y/n, frowning when he sees she was standing further away from them, face showing fear but her posture straight and almost dominating. "Do excuse my friend," Ketch resumes, helping Dean since he'd forgotten how to speak. "His name is Dean Winchester. Gets quite shy around women," Ketch sighs and Dean rolls his eyes, not bothering to turn back and give him his bitch face.

Y/n glances warily between them, taking another step back when Dean steps forward. She wasn't completely facing them as she took a defensive stance. Knees bend slightly, feet firmly planted in the ground. He widens his eyes, forgetting that she didn't know him. She looked the same as she did all those years ago. The way dug her nails into her palm to calm herself down- as she or Dean's Y/n had. Her lips were parted as she breathed out, eyeing the Winchester.

"Let us help you," Dean says, turning his lips into a small smile to show her she could trust him. She looked frightened though, like prey surrounded by predators.

"Help with what?" She asks and her voice was strong and loud, her eyes slyly looking to the side towards the forest behind her.

"We'll help you save Charlie," Dean answers with no hesitation.

"Dean-" Ketch starts off but Dean puts his hand up to stop him from speaking. He looked as Y/n's eyes widened and she frowned. That meant that she knew Charlie- might've been friends with her too.

"How do you know her?" Y/n asks, taking another small step back.

"We know you too," Dean says before thinking, wincing inwardly when Y/n's eyes narrow. "Y/n Y/l/n. Your parents were Y/m/n and Y/d/n Y/l/n."

Y/n blinks several times but Dean still saw them shining. She licked her lips- once, twice. He wanted to take a step forward and hug her but the situation was to delicate to pull stunts like that. Finally, after what felt like forever to Dean's thundering heart, Y/n meets his eyes, distrust and vulnerability flashing in them.

"How?" It was all she asked, her voice breaking slightly. It was just one word but Dean knew what she meant.

The Winchester turned back to face Ketch for a second before looking back at Y/n, not knowing where to start.

Hey guys! This is the first time I'm posting one my stories on Tumblr. I'm really hoping y'all like it!!

#sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester #sam and dean #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #samwinchester #winchester brothers #jared padamoose #spn #deanwinchester×reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean × reader #supernatural season 13

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rainesclan · 6 years

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[Part Seven]: Little Lies

Link to: [Series Masterpost], [Part One], [Part Two], [Part Three], [Part Four], [Part Five] , [Part Six]

A/N: We’re halfway done with this fic! It’s bittersweet! As always tysm to everyone who’s been reading and especially to those of you who always haveme soft with your nice comments! It really means a lot! As per usual, there should be a read more. Sorry if Tumblr’s being fickle with it again!

Series Tag List (feel free to ask to be added!): @nathansterling @j-ashtons@nathan-sterling @nevrakissed @sterlingbitch @nathansblazer @ash-beaumont @guilty-giggler @pilitella

Description: Kaitlyn invites the Alphas over to the suite for a game of Truth or Truth, but things get a little too personal when Becca crashes the party with her own drinking game.

Words: 2,926 (I’m so sorry)

____

Busy fingers flew against the keys of her laptop as Cariedee attempted to condense everything she had been feeling in response to the week’s events within Vasquez’s six-page minimum requirement. The rest of the week may have gone by as seemingly normal as any other week, but a part of her knew she could feel a shift that was barely there, but present enough for her to perceive.

Beau had seemed...different. She was sure no one else had noticed it, as it was anything but obvious, but she could feel it when she had stopped by the clubhouse a few days after the bake sale fiasco to return a book she had borrowed from Nathan.

When she first crossed the threshold she could almost feel the tension when he looked at her before his expression melted into a smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes and he greeted her with the same kindness he always had. For a split second, however, the mask had slipped. She figured that maybe it was just her paranoia, but another part of her wondered if Nathan had been careless enough to mention her by name when he spoke to Beau about the incident.

If that had been the case, she wasn’t sure what to expect in the upcoming weeks.

She only remembered that Kaitlyn had been lounging on the couch next to her scrolling through social media on her phone when she could feel her shift and allow her arm to hang over the cushions.

“Did you know Kassidy plays drums in a band?” She asked, her brown eyes peering over the top of her phone to look at Cariedee, who was so intently focused on putting the finishing touches on her final paragraph that she hadn’t looked up to meet her gaze.

“No. She never mentioned it,” she responded.

“Maybe she likes me better than you,” Kaitlyn teased, and Cariedee couldn’t help but roll her eyes playfully in response. “I guess we’ll find out when we all play Truth or Truth later.”

The name of the infamous game was what finally caught her full attention, and Cariedee finally closed her laptop and turned to look at her roommate full on.

“We are not playing Truth or Truth with the Alphas. They’re just coming over for drinks.”

“Suite rules state that in order to be fully initiated into our group of friends, you need to survive a game of Truth or Truth on the rooftop.”

“I’m pretty sure you just made that up right now.”

“Maybe so,” she shrugged playfully and gave her roommate’s shoulder a gentle shake. “Come on, Cariedee! It’ll be fun a fun way for everyone to get to know each other.”

Cariedee glanced back down at the closed laptop still resting in her lap. Maybe Kaitlyn was right. And even if it were to take an unexpected turn, she figured it would at least make for an interesting piece to write for Vasquez.

With slight hesitation, she finally straightened up her posture and set her laptop down on the coffee table.

“Fine,” she agreed with little reluctance. “But please just...don’t mention Chris.”

____

If Cariedee wasn’t positive that something was amiss between her and Beau before, the awkward inkling of tension she could feel as they settled in on the rooftop waiting for Kaitlyn to finish pouring drinks confirmed it. He had been uncharacteristically quiet since the Alphas had arrived at the suite, and – while she wasn’t one hundred percent sure of it – she could swear she caught him casting a less-than-friendly glance or two in her direction while she and Kassidy talked about her band.

She knew she had to get Nathan alone. It was the only way she would be able to ask what he could have said that would result in Beau being so pissed off at her. She briefly wondered if maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Nathan at all, but after their conversation during breakfast and Nathan confirming that he would talk to Beau about what had transpired at the bake sale, she had a feeling she knew exactly what it was.

“I’ve got the drinks!” Kaitlyn’s cheerful voice broke her near trance. “I present to all of you the finest wine available on a college student’s budget.”

When she handed Beau his drink he peered into the red solo cup warily before taking a sniff of the pungent deep red liquid.

“Is this botrytized?” He tried.

“If that means ‘cheapest bottle they had’ then yes,” Kaitlyn shrugged her shoulders and handed the last cup she could manage to carry over to Zack. “Sorry if it isn’t up to Alpha Theta Mu standards.”

“I don’t think this is up to anyone’s standards,” Zack commented with a wince. “It smells like someone put a shot of grape juice into a bottle of vinegar.”

“The wine’s fine, Kaitlyn,” Nathan assured her with a friendly smile. “Do you want me to get the rest of the cups for you?”

“No...that’s fine I-” she stopped and let her words trail off when she saw the look that Cariedee was shooting her way. “Actually...yeah...that’d be a big help.”

“I’ll go with you,” Cariedee eagerly volunteered, springing up from her seat on one of the couches.

This may have been her only chance to talk to him about the Beau situation – she figured – and she knew she needed to take the opportunity. As they made their way downstairs and into the kitchen, Nathan flashed her a playfully charming smile over his shoulder.

“I’m not sure how much help I’m going to need carrying two glasses of wine,” he told her. “Not that I’m objecting to the company.”

“I actually wanted to ask you something.”

He looked mildly surprised by the confession, and he paused and turned to face her before he could gather the last two cups resting on the counter.

“Ask away.”

“Did you say something to Beau? About me?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he studied the look on her face for a few long seconds before responding.

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking,” he admitted.

“When you talked to Beau about...you know...” she paused and gestured vaguely with her hands. “You didn’t mention my name did you?”

“Not that I recall,” he responded. “Why?”

“You don’t think he’s been acting sort of weird around me?”

“If he is I haven’t noticed.”

She sighed, although it wasn’t particularly directed at him. In all honesty, she almost couldn’t tell whether it was a sigh of relief that Nathan hadn’t seemed to notice anything weird, or frustration with the fact that she couldn’t seem to get a straight answer. Either way, he elaborated before she could figure it out.

“If you feel like he’s being unpredictable I wouldn’t look too far into it,” he reassured her. “That’s just Beau.”

“Promise?” She asked. It was more of a formality than anything significant. She smiled when she realized and he smiled back, handing one of the two cups to her and wrapping his now free arm around her shoulder.

“Haven’t you realized by now that I wouldn’t even consider telling you anything that wasn’t laced with my most expert and sincere advice?”

She couldn’t help but laugh and roll her eyes playfully at the theatrics.

“How silly of me to question your motives,” she teased.

He smiled and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as they made their way back up to the rooftop. While they were still out of earshot of the rest of the group, he leaned down to whisper to her, his breath warm against her ear when he did.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me somehow.”

The blush that touched her cheeks was impossible to hide. She tried, however, as the two of them made their way back to the couches and waited for everyone to get settled in with their drinks.

A few more moments of mindless small talk passed before Kaitlyn finally stood up and dramatically cleared her throat to draw the group’s attention.

“I think what this situation calls for is a good, old-fashioned game of Truth or Truth,” she declared.

Zack and Abbie groaned audibly, clearly having not been aware of the night’s plans, while the three newcomers exchanged curious glances before looking back to her.

“What the hell is Truth or Truth?” Beau asked. “We’re more of a Two Truths and a Lie kind of crowd.”

“Truth or Truth is at least one hundred times better than Two Truths and a Lie,” Kaitlyn assured him. “It’s easy. It’s Truth or Dare without the dares. You can either tell the truth or you can drink.”

“Wait,” Beau held up his hand to stop everyone before they could start the game. “What if you lie?”

Kaitlyn seemed unprepared for the question, and she looked around at the rest of the group for silent advice before responding.

“I mean...that’s not really part of the game.”

“So nothing? No penalty shot? Just lie all you want?”

“For the love of God, Beau, can we just play the game?” Kassidy asked with an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, fine,” he held up his hands in a playfully silent surrender. “Just know I’m an expert liar. Who knows if I’m actually telling the truth? Right, Cariedee?”

Cariedee blinked in surprise, and she could suddenly feel everyone’s eyes on her. When she looked over at Nathan, he looked almost as surprised by the comment as she knew she did.

Maybe – she thought – it was just a normal, playful comment. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially taking into consideration what Nathan had told her only a couple of minutes prior. She searched her mind for a playful response...something that would make it clear to everyone that she and Beau were just two friends having fun and teasing one another...but before she could think of anything appropriate for the situation, she found that she was distracted by the sound of someone else approaching the rooftop.

“What kind of second-rate drinking game is going on here?”

Though she didn’t hear it often, Cariedee could easily pick Becca’s condescending tone out of a crowd, and her body tensed up without warning at the sound of it. She looked over to find her standing next to one of the couches with Chris close behind.

“Although I guess the biggest shock of the night is seeing you three hanging out somewhere so...quaint,” she continued, gesturing vaguely towards Nathan, Beau, and Kassidy. When none of the three of them gave her the response she had clearly been searching for, she flopped down onto one of the couches next to Abbie. “What we should be doing is playing Never Have I Ever.”

“What the hell do you mean we?” Abbie asked, her eyes narrowing and her eyebrows creasing when she looked over at the blonde next to her. “Last I remember, no one invited you.”

“Chris invited me...obviously.”

“Last I remember no one invited Chris either.”

The silence that followed Abbie’s harsh statement hung awkwardly over the group, and Chris’s smile faltered just a little.

“Oh...” he stuttered, but quickly recovered. “We can go then.”

“No, no. Stay,” Beau insisted, flashing a look filled with disdain towards Becca. “I’d love to play Never Have I Ever with the Queen of the Kappas herself.”

Chris chuckled awkwardly when he took his seat next to Becca, and another tense silence fell over the rooftop. After what felt like an agonizingly long time, Zack finally cleared his throat and spoke in an attempt to break through it.

“Okay...how about I start?” He tried. No one responded. “Alright...cool. So...never have I ever...had blonde hair.”

Becca rolled her eyes and took a sip of the beer in her hand, and Nathan playfully tapped the top of his red solo cup against Cariedee’s with a smile before they both took a sip. Even with Nathan’s friendly gesture, however, the mood on the rooftop was still effectively dead. No one spoke. No one laughed or cracked a joke in response. Everyone simply waited for Kaitlyn to go next.

“Never have I ever,” Kaitlyn took a thoughtful pause, “been involved in Greek life.”

All three members of Alpha Theta Mu easily took a sip of their respective drinks. Becca, however, let out a long huff and spoke up in protest.

“It’s so obvious what you guys are doing,” she seethed. “How about it’s my turn then?”

“Actually it’s Kassidy’s-”

Becca ignored the protest and continued.

“Never have I ever had a huge unrequited crush on a Hartfeld quarterback. Drink up, Cariedee.”

“I’m not drinking to that because it’s not true,” Cariedee scoffed in response.

“Then how about these?” She tried again. “Never have I ever walked around with coffee stains on my clothes. Or never have I ever hooked up with two of the guys sitting with us on this rooftop within the span of two weeks.”

A splash of wine and the sound of cheap plastic against the ground stopped her before she could continue, and everyone’s head turned to look at Cariedee when they noticed that she had tossed her still full cup of wine onto the ground in front of her and stood up abruptly.

“Screw this. I’m done playing,,” she declared, ignoring the red heat that crept up her neck as she stormed away.

Her hands trembled as she made her way back down into the suite, and she blinked back hot tears of frustration. She knew it was stupid to allow Becca to get under her skin like that, but she couldn’t control it. If her getting angry about being humiliated not only in front of Nathan, but in front of all of their friends, meant that Becca had won, then she would resentfully give her the victory.

With a frustrated sigh, she went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She clicked the lock into place, leaning against the sink and leaning forward to look at her own reflection. Why the hell did Becca hate her so much?

“Hey,” The familiar voice was followed by a soft knock on the door. “It’s Nathan.”

She hesitated, but ultimately decided to unlock it, opening the door just enough to see his face. He smiled weakly and almost apologetically, but somehow she could still feel the warmth behind it.

“That was certainly an interesting turn of events,” he tried.

With a sigh, she opened the door enough to let him in before quickly closing it behind them.

“I wish I could say ‘I can explain’ about what Becca said up there,” Cariedee started with a sigh. “But I can’t. It really was just a stupid...” she paused and shook her head. “It was before you and I met and...I just don’t want this to mess anything up because I like you...and I know there’s something here...with us I mean...”

She let her voice trail off, and she could feel her chest tighten in response to her own confession. It hadn’t been her intention to say nearly everything she had been feeling for the past three or so weeks, but it was too late to retract.

“Cariedee,” he chuckled, and his hands were cold against her skin when they brushed against her arms. “I don’t care what happened between you and Chris.”

“You don’t?”

“Not in the slightest. We’ve all had our share of regrettable hookups,” he laughed lightly, and she cracked a smile as well.

“Plus we’re not even a couple,” she tried.

“That too,” he paused and smiled fondly at her. “Although...perhaps I wouldn’t mind us changing that someday. Believe it or not I like you too.”

An unmistakable pink flushed his cheeks after the words came spilling out, and she laughed gently.

“Maybe we could just start with a kiss and see where things go from there,” she suggested.

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he just smiled again, cupped her cheeks between his chilled hands, and lowered his lips to hers. The soft sigh she let out against his lips was an audible release of everything she had been feeling – relief, comfort, longing – and she shivered when his hands moved to her waist to pull her closer.

His lips parted from hers just briefly. She was sure their absence would have had hers feeling cold had his whispered words not touched them just a second later.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this,” he confessed.

She laughed softly and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her fingers run through his soft blonde hair.

“Less talking, more kissing,” she teased.

Their lips reconnected in a searing kiss. An outpouring of every pent up feeling. But before things could escalate, a knock on the door pulled them both out of the moment.

“Hey...Cariedee...Becca left. Can we talk?”

Chris’s voice caused her stomach to drop, and she untangled herself from Nathan in order to open the door.

“Cari–oh,” Chris stopped short when he saw that she wasn’t alone behind the bathroom door. She was sure he could tell by her kiss-swollen lips and tousled hair that they weren’t having a simple, friendly conversation either...especially when she could see his expression drop just slightly. “Sorry. I was...just gonna get going anyway.”

“You said you wanted to talk,” she reminded him warily.

“It’s fine. It...” he paused and glanced at Nathan again. “It doesn’t matter.”

#nathan x mc #nathan sterling #long post #something like this fic #something like this part 7 #can y'all believe i was afraid i wasn't gonna finish and wrote an entire feature length film instead?#i know you guys said you don't mind long parts but...still #this part got away from me i'm sorry dfjefllk

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cutieodonoghue · 6 years

Text

more than all the stars (18/18)

summary: In a world full of soulmates, Emma Nolan doesn’t know who hers is. Enter Killian Jones, attempting to stop his brother from proposing to his soulmate, only to be thrown a curveball when he’s sent to spend Christmas on a farm with a bunch of strangers. (soulmate modern au)

rating: k+ (mild language, suggestive situations later on)

word count: ~2,400

catch up: read it all on tumblr here

also find on: ff.net, ao3

eighteen

The cold night air clings to Emma as she steps into Granny’s Diner for one last meal with her best friend. The warmth presses nicely against her cheeks and fills her lungs in a deep breath she takes in preparation for the time to come.

Elsa sits in the back corner, already smiling sadly in anticipation for the time to follow this final night. With a twinge of bittersweet sadness in her chest, Emma approaches and plucks her gloves from her hands in order to press them into one of the pockets of her coat.

“Emma, I can’t believe this is it for six whole months!”

Elsa stands up in time to hug her at the head of the table and Emma frowns as her eyes squeeze shut at the tightness of their embrace. “I know! I don’t want you to go!”

When they part, they slip easily into their seats as if this were any other night and Emma removes her coat. She can’t help but see the gift in the spot beside Elsa, something that makes her slump her shoulders.

“Elsa, I didn’t know we were doing gifts. I would have gotten you something. Like… a Storybrooke snow globe or something.”

Elsa laughs. “No, it’s okay. It’s just a little something and… well, here, open it.”

Emma eyes her friend warily for a moment before accepting the small package. She opens it to find a ticket to Greenland.

“It’s so you can come visit me on my birthday.” Elsa explains as she looks up at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her companion sighs, “Because I’m selfish and want you to come to Greenland on my birthday.”

Emma laughs. “Well, I guess I have no excuse to miss it, huh?”

Elsa shrugs giddily. “Guess so!”

Ruby comes to take their orders, and once she leaves, Emma presses a hand to the table.

“So I got my soulmate match in the mail.” Emma says.

Elsa’s eyes widen. “You did? And you didn’t call me to tell me their name? Emma, we could have looked him up a dozen times by now.”

“No, I couldn’t because it went missing before I could open it!” Emma gasps. “And none of my family says they even looked at it. So I have no clue. It cost me a lot of money, too.” She shakes her head and nibbles on her lower lip as she playfully says, “Maybe Wilby ate it?”

Elsa laughs in a way that makes Emma already miss her friend and these talks at Granny’s. “I doubt that.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to stress about it. I’m just going to keep living my life and hope whoever it is finds me.”

It doesn’t make her the happiest person in the world, knowing she’d had her soulmate’s name sitting in her bedroom and she refused to open it because she was still working up the courage.

But at the same time, Killian being gone hasn’t even really settled in yet. Part of her thinks he’ll show up to dinner at the house with that stupid smirk and practiced charm that has her mother and grandmother wrapped around his fingers.

He’s a good man, despite the way his leaving made her feel. He had the right reasons for it and she knows he’s living his best life even if it’s not with her like she’d felt so sure it was when she kissed him just barely a day ago.

“You’re back to square one.” Elsa says, shaking her head slowly. “I think that’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“Well, it’s not like they’re just going to walk into the diner and hand me a piece of paper that says, ‘it’s me’.” Emma shakes her head. She straightens out and smiles a little. “I’m going to go with Nana on her trip. I decided this morning. It’ll give me a chance to clear my mind.”

Elsa’s eyes widen and she gasps, “Oh, that will be so much fun.”

“I hope so.” Emma agrees. She glances down at the table for a second, thinking about the weight that still sits on her shoulders because she never really got a chance at trying with Killian. “So, how’s Liam and being married?”

“It’s wonderful.” Elsa smiles. “I lucked out. Not only is he handsome, but he’s very tidy so I don’t have to worry about him leaving his clothes everywhere.”

Emma chuckles. “No, but he’ll have to worry about your messes.”

Elsa shrugs. “It’s a give and take, Emma, what can I say?”

They both laugh and fall quiet again, a pleasant feeling settling in the silence. She’ll miss Elsa more than anything, but this is going to be so good for her to go to Greenland with her husband. Besides, they still have Skype and email and everything in between, and she’s apparently going to visit her on her birthday too.

“What am I going to do without you?” Emma asks, shaking her head on a sigh. “Who will I come to with all of my stories about the farm?”

Elsa lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know! I’m absolutely heartbroken I have to leave you here all by yourself. I’ll miss all of the hot gossip.”

Emma chuckles lightly. “Like how Graham flirts with Mayor Mills, but only when he’s super drunk?”

“And then somehow mistook her for me,” Elsa sighs wistfully. “I will never forget it. I will never live it down.”

Emma can’t help but giggle even more at the memory.

From somewhere behind her, the bell above the door tinkles and Elsa’s jaw falls open. “Well, I don’t want to point out the dramatic irony here, but…”

Frowning, she turns just in time to find Killian Jones standing at the head of the table, looking breathless as ever and freezing cold. He squats down beside her as she barely says his name aloud.

A smile finds his lips. “Hey.”

Emma shakes her head slowly. “How are you… why…”

Killian reaches into his pocket and removes a white envelope. “I… feel awful about this, but I stole your mail.”

“What?” He sets the paper into her hand and she sees the from address. Slowly, she looks up at him. “Why?”

Killian’s expression softens and she sees tears gather in his eyes. “I thought I would be protecting you.”

“From my soulmate?” she asks, shaking her head in confusion.

“In a sense.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “Wh-”

“After sledding on Christmas, I accidentally saw your mark,” he admits quietly. “I…”

He doesn’t continue, instead looking down like a child about to be disciplined. “Emma-”

She figures the only way she’ll get a straight answer is if she opens the mail, no matter how badly it scares her. He’s already torn it open, so the paper comes out easily.

Her eyes dart around the page for a moment before they land on the most important section:

Match Name: Killian Jones

Immediately, her heart skips a frantic beat and her fingers get clammy with nervousness.

She understands why he’d keep it from her now, with his decision to go with his father, to abandon her after she put it all out on the line for him.

Tears of relief and confusion find her eyes and she looks up at him. “Killian.”

“What I did was wrong,” he admits with the most grieved expression, “I hope you can forgive me, Emma. I’ve come back this time to be with you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize. I just…” He sighs heavily. “I was afraid of losing my old life, but it was nothing to how terrified I was of losing you. All of you- your family included.”

“You gave it up to be with me?” she asks, eyes narrowed.

“Aye.” He grimaces. “I know, it’s not anything for you to forgive straight away. I should have just quit while I was here and never abandoned you.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “But I needed to go back because I needed to close that chapter before we could start ours. You have to know that I didn’t believe I could find anyone else… until I met you.”

Any frustration she’d felt fades and instead, she feels hope and joy in the racing rhythm of her heartbeat. He left, yes, but he came back. Again and again, he came back.

Emma sets the paper aside and presses her tongue against her lips briefly.

“Killian.”

He stares at her like a man pleading for his life, the furrow in his deepening with each word he speaks, “When I win your heart, Emma-”

“Killian,” she laughs.

He looks up at her with the softest expression, still incredibly repentant, and she reaches out for his cheek. Her thumb brushes against his scar, a little thing she knows she’ll spend hours memorizing in the time to come.

“You came back to me.”

He searches her eyes. His voice breaks ever so slightly, “Can you ever forgive me?”

The desperation he displays is something she feels burning in her chest, knowing full well that saying yes now means an eternity with the man her heart continues to long for- her soulmate.

With her heart in her throat, she nods and whispers, “Yes.”

At her insistence, he presses upward and easily finds her lips, his happy laughter infectious. They break apart, eyes meeting, and she runs her fingers up the nape of his neck to find his hair.

She doesn’t know if she’s ever been this happy before in her whole life.

His eyes shine brightly and she just knows that everything is how it was always supposed to be. He’s here.

Abruptly, Killian seems to realize where they are and looks over at her counterpart with an incredibly apologetic tone. “Sorry, Elsa, I didn’t mean to interrupt your last meal before you’re off.”

He stands back, something that makes Emma want to grab him and pull him back into her again. She misses him, even though he’s right here with her.

Her friend has her hands clasped against her chest, admiring both of them with shimmering eyes. “It’s totally okay.”

Emma laughs along with Elsa, for a completely different reason. She grabs the envelope and letter, giving it another look with disbelief.

He’s hers. Like, officially hers. Even past her deep desire to have him in her life, hers.

She looks up at him, her soulmate, the man she aches to be with from the very core of herself. He stares right back at her and all she can see is a future in his smile and the creases beside his blue eyes.

“I’ll go,” he finally says, smiling at Elsa. “I… should find Liam.”

Disappointment sinks into the pit of her belly, but she knows he shouldn’t just stay here. It is her and Elsa’s last evening at Granny’s for six months after all, and he sort of showed up uninvited to drop the soulmate news on her- news that makes her insides practically jump for joy at the thought.

He’s gone before she gets a chance to say anything, instead leaving her with a bright smile and a, “Text me when you’re free, alright?”

Emma turns ahead, staring at the paper before folding it up and staring at Elsa instead. Her friend shakes her head.

“Go. I know you want to. He’s too polite to interrupt the whole night, but you’re soulmates, Emma. This needs to be celebrated. Wildly. Right now.”

Emma hesitates. “No, it’s fine. It’s our special last meal together.”

Elsa gives her a hard look. “Emma Ruth Nolan, I swear if you don’t go after him, I’ll bring him back myself. Go.”

She closes her eyes briefly on a laugh. “Fine. I’ll go. I’ll be there tomorrow morning to help, though.”

With a calm and kind nod, Elsa says, “That’s perfect.”

Quickly, she slides her coat and hat on, grabbing the rest of her things before she leaves the table and heads toward the door.

Killian’s standing at the entryway of Granny’s patio area, with his back turned to her and his gaze set on the stars. He’s not moving, maybe because he’s caught up with himself and needs a minute to collect himself.

She lets out a breath, a puff of white air populating the space before her, and then she jogs up to him and stops beside him. As if sensing her presence, he looks down at her.

“So. Soulmates.” Emma says, offering him a wry look. “Guess you can have two after all.”

Killian smiles at her sweetly. “Aye.”

Not wanting to make a scene, but also wanting to pounce on him and never stop kissing him, she settles for taking his hand in hers. Easily, their fingers align and fold against each other.

Her breath catches and she gestures toward her car. “Come on.”

Together, they walk in a companionable silence to her car. After climbing inside, she starts the engine to get the heat running and turns to him.

Part of her feels like a giddy teenager finally having gotten alone with a boy she likes. Having spent much of her life waiting for this day to come even if it was on a deep subconscious level, she thinks it’s probably forgivable.

Not willing to wait any longer, she leans over the center console and cups his cheek as he does the same to her. Their lips meet in a heated frenzy, both of them desperate and terribly grateful that they’ve found each other and that the timing is right.

When they finally stop kissing, they bump noses, foreheads touching.

“I wanted to be with you before I knew,” she whispers. “Just so we’re clear.”

Killian meets her eyes and smiles slightly. “I know.”

Emma sighs and pulls at his hair that’s caught between her fingers. “Let’s get married in two days.”

Killian stares at her for a second as if he believes she’s being serious, but then catches on, laughing as she does too.

“It’s the only way to do it, of course.”

Smiling, she kisses him again, and this time, she moves away when she’s done, staring at him with as much affection as he stares at her.

“Let’s go home.”

Killian nods. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

#cs ff #cs au #my writing #mtats

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missixo · 6 years

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St Balderich Slays the Dragon [8/19]

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 (on tumblr)

This fic (on AO3)

Pairing: Balderich/Mondatta

Summary: The humans are right to fear omnics and what they can do. What he can and will do to humanity. He is Jörmungandr, and he will see humanity fall.

St Balderich Slays the Dragon

Chapter 8

MD catches up with Broom more after returning to his office, settling into his new chair that they stole out of a storage room. They shrug and wave off his concerns. “It was collecting dust, figured none of the doctors would miss it.”

He laughs and nudges over the examination stool, an invitation for his friend to sit down. “I fully appreciate your pragmatism in this, I promise. Have you been able to find the part for Ozzie’s foot yet? You must be able to afford it by now, even on an omnic supervisor’s pay.” The thoughts of how little he and other omnics make compared to human counterparts almost sour his mood, but he chooses not to focus on it - for the moment. ‘Pay gaps won’t be an issue too much longer if I get my way.’

They take the seat with a small sigh from their vents, relaxing worn pistons and joints after two days on shift. “Still hunting. It’s a delicate part, and she’s an older model, so even the knock-offs are pricey. I’m looking at other options at this point; can’t get much more expensive than it is now.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Let me know if you need anything; I’m not the greatest at holding on to cash at the moment, but I’ve still got something in the bank.”

After Broom and his team are gone, MD spends the next two days getting settled in, putting his personal effects where he wants them, and in general rearranging the room as equipment is brought in. Each piece shrinks the space further and further, until it’s down to something he feels he can manage. It becomes a little cramped if any three Crusaders try to come in at once, but the limitation only makes it more his space and less open to invasion.

***

Miracle of miracles, Balderich gets no complaints about the new medic for a whole three days after the... memorable introduction. Of course, the first complaint he hears isn’t official by any means, simple lunchtime conversation, but that doesn’t make him any less concerned when he hears Andrea further down the table, rubbing his arm where a small bruise is blooming around an injection site.

“It’s got all the charm you’d expect from an omnic. I don’t sit perfectly still, and the thing sees fit to hold me down like an unruly child!”

It. Thing. A small slip, but massive for the implications. The words immediately reduce the omnic to lesser - something hardly worth anything, disposable and entirely replaceable without note. Balderich grits his teeth. He requested the omnic because he has a personality; it’s not the best one by a long shot - he’s so far prickly on a good day, and Balderich doubts they’ve seen a bad day yet.

“Andrea, a moment with me?” He makes a beckoning gesture.

“Yes sir.” The Italian is clearly confused, but follows him outside the mess hall. “Sir?”

Balderich speaks low, knowing this is not going to be well received, more so than censure usually is. “I know you are not particularly fond of omnics, but please. He is your medic, not a toaster, and not one of those rust buckets that try to shoot us. I know he is not the most pleasant individual, but that does speak to his individuality. He has an identity, and I am asking you to respect that. Are we clear?”

Andrea swallows, looking like he just sucked a lemon. “Yessir. May I be dismissed, sir? I would like to finish my lunch while it’s still warm.”

“Dismissed.” He follows Andrea after a minute, intent on finishing his own lunch even though his appetite is suddenly gone.

***

MD hits the BX for some rags and cleaner so he won’t have to constantly bother Broom and his crew for basic cleaning, but when he gets there he realizes he still needs a decent set of curtains for the windows and a privacy sheet for his cot… The space is rather plain at the moment… A new plant wouldn’t go amiss either.

He stops himself at the curtains and sheet, plus three small plants, and some cord to make a hanging planter. So much for money management there.

***

Jörmungandr checks his security feed for the fourth time in twenty-four hours the next day between patient check-ups. There has to be a way he can get back inside without having to walk through the middle of the hospital. He’s just missing something… He wasn’t necessarily close to getting to the fifth floor yet, even when he was outright living at the hospital, but now it’s so much harder with the fact he has to get in the damn building in the first place.

He’s just starting to look for other points of ingress when MD’s next patient comes in to review his medical file and he has to back out of the feed again. Back to updating medications, taking blood samples, and scheduling booster shots. Code-rotting boredom is what this job is.

***

Two days after he tempts fate once again - ‘I really need to stop doing that.’ - MD is woken by an alert on his HUD and banging on the medbay door accompanied by shouting. He pulls up the notice before he reaches the door and freezes, standing in the middle of the room.

THE CRUSADERS’ BARRACKS NOW UNDER QUARANTINE DUE TO POTENTIAL H3N2 FLU OUTBREAK.

ALL CRUSADERS ARE TO REPORT TO MEDICAL UNIT MD-8178 FOR EVALUATION AND RISK ASSESSMENT.

QUARANTINE WILL REMAIN ACTIVE UNTIL MEDICAL UNIT MD-8178 DECLARES RISK OF INFECTION SPREADING: NEGLIGIBLE.

… He just woke up. But he opens the door and tries to talk over them - difficult enough when they’re all calm - getting progressively louder, “If you would all get in a single file line, I will run the assessments as quickly as - I need you all to quiet - Just get in a line and -”

Ok. He’s not putting up with this, his day is starting great enough already. He ramps up the volume and gives them a lovely feedback shriek for a perfect five seconds. Next, a moment to let their ears stop ringing... “Get in a single file line and I’ll figure out which of you were dumb enough to get sick and bring this quarantine down on all of us. When your exam is complete, go wait in your quarters until I issue the results. No one is to be wandering the corridors during this time. You get caught, you go on report, and you will get caught.”

***

As he takes temperatures and checks for other symptoms, he revisits Hell Week and wants to strangle the omnic of almost three months ago. He’s still catching the fallout, unbelievable. Most of the organic bastions keep quiet, and he does end up checking that no one has any ruptured eardrums. An airhorn might have been kinder, but convenience and hindsight and all that. One or two still give him nasty looks - particularly that Italian - but there are witnesses so he counts himself safe enough.

He saves Balderich for last. “Colonel, provided you are not one of the possibly-infected, I think I will bring the list to you in your quarters and have you inform the men about who will be under stricter quarantines.”

He looks at him oddly. “Any particular reason why?”

“Because I need them as cooperative as possible, and they will take the idea of being confined to quarters for several days much better if it isn’t coming from an… from me. Turn your head, I need to check your eardrums.”

Balderich watches the omnic out of the corner of his eye. “... You are scared of us.”

MD hums, a note of ‘duh’ tucked in the sound. “I am am omnic living surrounded by men whose careers boil down to destroying omnics. I understand one phrase for such a situation is ‘sleeping in the lions’ den.’ Your eardrums appear to be undamaged, send me a note if you notice any sudden changes in balance, or a ringing in your ears, and I’ll come check on you in quarters.” MD turns away to dispose of the cap on the otoscope when a hot, heavy hand wraps tight around his forearm.

An automatic response to unexpected restraint kicks in and curls his fists tight, otoscope creaking under the pressure. His head swings around, looking for the delicate bone at the temple as his target. Balderich is just sitting there, relaxed except for the hold on his arm. MD warily lowers his unrestrained hand and drops the now destroyed tool in the bin with a hollow clank of metal on plastic. “Colonel, what exactly are you playing at?”

“This is why I requested you for our medic.”

“What? Why?” Requested him? Because he’s willing to crush his skull under threat?

The insane human has the audacity to shrug at him. “You don’t respond like most of the omnics on base. You have personality. What you just did in response to my actions is very similar to what a human would do.”

‘Well that’s just rude.’

“I requested you because I am worried my men are forgetting that - while they are, yes, protecting humanity - we are fighting for our way of life, which includes omnics like you. Some of them have come to think that all omnics should be destroyed, for safety, but if we did that every time part of a group became a threat to the world, most of my men’s grandparents would never have been born, after the Wars over a century ago. We would be in eastern France or western Poland right now - maybe even southern Denmark - instead. I understand that you are scared, but please do not let it stifle you.”

They sit there for a few minutes, looking at each other, evaluating. MD slowly relaxes his other fist in Balderich’s grip as fans kick on and a few small vents pop open. Balderich is watching the light from the window play on pale metal when the omnic lets out a strange sound - ‘Was that a squeak?’ - as he finally responds, rushed, “Thank you, Colonel, but I need to get these results together. I’ll bring them by your quarters later.”

He’s very quickly ushered - pushed, really - out and the door shuts behind him, the tint on the inset window going totally opaque. He stares at the probably-locked door, stunned, as he mutters to himself, “What just happened there?”

#mondatta god ai #tekhartha mondatta #balderich von adler #monderich

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welllpthisishappening · 7 years

Text

Out of the Frying Pan (17/?)

“Were there extra cookies?” “You literally just ate a plate of onion rings.” “Were there extra cookies?” Henry repeated.

“No,” Killian laughed. “And even if there were, your mom absolutely would have eaten them.” “Rude,” Emma mumbled and Killian’s side moved slightly when he laughed again in response. Mary Margaret looked like she was going to start crying again at the sight of early-relationship-whatever banter.

AN: If you haven’t told @laurnorder how delightful and awesome she is, go ahead and do that now because it’d probably be weird if I just did it, like, all the time.

Living it up on Ao3 and tag’ed up on Tumblr as per usual.

“We’re going to take another ten before we film the third, ok?” Regina asked, appearing a few feet in front of them suddenly. She’d seized control of the show again, something about instructions from Zelena and having the most experience with competition shows and no one really seemed to care except for her.

Killian barely even processed the words – taken back a bit by how much watching Emma lose had made his stomach churn.

What a fucking disaster.

She still hadn’t moved – Regina glanced at her warily and Killian met his producer’s eyes. “We’ve got it, Gina,” he said softly, body turned entirely towards Emma. She still hadn’t moved.

Regina nodded and did her best to smile encouragingly and Killian appreciated the effort, even if the final result fell a bit flat. He didn’t say anything else until the sound of Regina’s heels had retreated to the other side of the studio, taking a step towards Emma and wrapping his fingers around her shoulder.

She moved then – shoulder slumping underneath his touch as she took a step back. And he tried very hard not to sigh.

He didn’t succeed.

“They didn’t like it,” she said softly, eyes trained at her feet.

“I heard.” “They liked yours. And Graham’s. They didn’t like mine.” “That happens sometimes, Swan,” Killian said, doing his best to sound reasonable and supportive when his mind was still very much hung up on the fact that she’d taken a step back.

“Not for you.” “Ah, well, we can’t all be quite as fantastic as I am.” She let out a shaky laugh and that felt a bit like a victory – enough to make him take a step back towards her and, this time, Emma didn’t move. Instead, she lifted her head, meeting his eyes with something that almost looked like a smile as she twisted her hands together in the space between them.

“That’s probably true,” she said softly.

“You’re a very close second, love.” “Gee, thanks.” “I know, you don’t have to tell me how overwhelmingly charming I am.” Emma laughed again and she was actually smiling now, tongue darting across her lips as she pushed her hair back behind her ears. “You going to let me try your food now?” she asked, taking a step towards the table and grabbing the plate before he’d even given her an answer.

“Of course.” She leaned against the edge of the table, twirling the fork in between in her fingers before taking a bite, closing her eyes slightly as she ate. And then she beamed at him. “You’re right,” she said, nodding towards the space next to her.

Killian moved where she directed, grabbing the plate of her food as he went. “About what, Swan?” “This is fantastic.” “Look who’s the charmer now. And anyway, that’s half your victory, you’re the one who explained what to do with the beans.” “I’m being honest,” she said and there was absolutely no way to doubt her. “And fat lot of good that did me. Jeez, Henry’s going to be so mad. We had a whole system. I was supposed to repurpose everything.” “You cooked them, Swan. That’s all I did too.” “Not well enough, apparently.” “What are you worried about?” “Would you like an itemized list?” “Just an answer would be good.” She sighed, taking another bite of food before he answered. “I needed this one,” Emma said slowly. “The Cutthroat win has been huge. The numbers have gone up over the last couple of weeks and Zelena had a meeting with Ruby about possibly getting me my timeslot back. So we talked about it, which is all we seem to be doing now, and Rubes thought if I won today and then added a good showing with the Christmas episode, we might get back to 10 by the start of next year. But then I couldn’t repurpose beans with a disgusting name and Henry’s going to be so disappointed.” Killian took a bite of her food so he didn’t have to answer immediately – a dozen different emotions coursing through his system. Mostly he was frustrated with himself and curious how long first-time offenders got for robbing a bank.

Because he’d have to rob the bank.

There was no way around it. He couldn’t beat her at this thing. He couldn’t let her think she wasn’t enough.

And the only way he’d be able to afford the expansion was if he robbed a bank and paid off Gold.

Emma bit her lip, glancing at him and shifting her body where she was sitting. “Anyway,” she said quickly, taking his silence as something entirely different the conflicted mess he was. “That’s my sad, little story. I’m glad you made it through though. That’s a good thing.” “Swan,” he sighed. “Nah, we’re not doing the pity thing. That’s not how we roll.” “I’m not, honestly. I just don’t think one episode of this stupid all-star thing is going to completely change the numbers you’re pulling. You didn’t get chopped first, so that’s good and this food is fucking delicious so I don’t know what the judges were thinking.” She stared at him, eyes going wide and green. “Yeah?” “Scout’s honor.” “I hardly pegged you for some kind of boy scout,” Emma laughed. “I was under the impression you were a ruthless pirate.” “Not ruthless. Dashing, maybe. But never ruthless.” “Good to know.” “You know Henry could never be disappointed in you right?”

Emma’s shoulders sagged and she twisted around, setting down the plate behind her. “That might be what I’m worried most about.” “That should be the bottom of the list.” “You don’t really know him.” “And you’re pulling at straws.”

“It’s just that I’ve sacrificed a lot for this or something that sounds a little less melodramatic,” she said, pressing her palms into the edge of the table. “And Henry’s only got me as far as parents go and that’s my fault and he’s always at M’s and David’s apartment and I didn’t know about that history test.” “He got an A on that.” “That was because of you. I didn’t know any of those dates.” “I’d be happy to help again,” Killian said, staring at her and doing his best not to blink. She twisted her hands again, toying with the edges of her fingernails and this might actually be the longest ten-minute break in the history of filming.

“I bet he’d like that.” “Good. So would I.” “Really?” “You don’t have to sound so stunned every time, Swan,” Killian said, pulling apart her hands with his own. Her eyes flashed down, staring at them and nodding slowly. “I can guarantee I’m not lying to you.” About that at least.

Fuck. He really was an asshole.

“Believing you is a bit of a work in progress,” she mumbled.

“I can wait.” Emma stared at him – like she was waiting for the but or the list of demands that came along with the promises and her mouth dropped open a bit when she realized neither one of those things were coming.

He could be better.

And he could wait.

He could be someone his brother would actually be proud of – not someone who walked away or didn’t believe in anything or was fairly positive everything he’d ever loved would, eventually, be yanked away from him.

And he’d be enough for Emma Swan.

“Killian, you ready to go?” Regina asked, heels sounding like a jackhammer on the studio floors. Emma tried to move, but Killian’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, holding her in place as he kept his eyes straight on her.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with.” “Emma,” Regina continued, voice almost sounding friendly and Killian would have to thank her for that later. Add an extra olive in the martini or something. “I think they want you to do your talking head now, just to kind of keep things on schedule.” “Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Emma said briskly, pulling her hand away from Killian’s and standing up. She glanced back at him, the smile on her face wide and earnest. “I think you should probably make cookies. That’ll totally beat Graham. What does he know about baking anyway? He’s good at meat and like building his own fires or something.” “Noted, Swan, thank you.” She nodded once, still smiling as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek quickly before calling for Ruby and walking towards the door of the studio.

And, Goddamn, if he wasn’t absolutely going to make cookies now.

“You look like the cat that ate the canary,” Regina said, jerking his attention back to the very real cooking show he still had to take part in.

“And you look smug. Save your I told you so speech or whatever, Robin already gave it yesterday.” “So I heard.”

“You two talk about everything?” “That’s usually how relationships work. Good ones at least.” “Yuh huh.” “You tell her about Gold yet?” Killian groaned, rolling his head back and pressing his fingertips into his cheekbones. “I’ll take that as a no, then.” “It hasn’t really come up.”

“Too busy acting like teenagers?” “Your fianc é was the one who asked how kissing worked yesterday.” “Yeah, I don’t think you should be giving him any advice,” Regina said pointedly, shifting her weight on her heels. “He’s been doing a pretty good job on his own for the last five years.” “That’s not something I need to know.” Regina shrugged. “You should tell her about Gold.” “You’re all pro-this now?” “I am, always, pro-you and I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile this much. Or saw Emma smile this much, honestly. So, sure, I am pro-this whatever it is. But you should tell her about Gold and the deal and then you two should stop making out in the pantry while you’re filming because it took me nearly the entire second round to persuade them not to keep that footage.” Killian squeezed his eyes shut – he’d probably have to give Regina unlimited martinis for the rest of the week. And he realized, again, that he might actually be the luckiest bastard in the entire world for the one night she’d decided to walk into his restaurant and decide he was some sort of project she had to take on.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he mumbled.

“And how exactly do you think Emma would have reacted if I hadn’t?” Killian sighed. “That’s what I figured,” Regina said, smug look back on her face. “I’m just saying, you two have already sparked some rumors and that’s good for TV, but I’ve got a pretty good feeling that she spooks easily, so unless you want to actually define this whatever and go public, then stop making out while you’re filming.” “How did you know there was no definition?” “Because you’re you and you haven’t done something like this in the entire time I’ve known you.” “What is this? Exactly?” Regina stared at him speculatively and Killian just grinned in response, enjoying the teasing a bit more than he probably should. “You falling in love with Emma Swan. Obviously.”

He didn’t say anything – couldn’t come up with an argument that wouldn’t paint him firmly in obviously territory. So he sat still, eyes falling away from Regina and, somehow, that was worse. She laughed at him, heels moving as she turned back towards the set.

“C’mon,” Regina called. “Dessert time.”

The next thirty minutes passed in a blur of sugar and flour and zucchini – which threw Killian off for all of five seconds before he remembered zucchini actually went pretty well with nutmeg and then he was off.

He saw Emma walk back into the studio just before judging, standing on the side of the set with Ruby and Belle next to her. She smiled at him as the three judges took a bite of the cookie and if he wasn’t desperately trying to avoid the melodramatic he would have considered that a better win than beating Graham in the dessert round.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t go with chocolate,” Tink said, laughing as she spoke. Killian lifted one eyebrow, eyes darting towards Emma who was still smiling at him.

He hadn’t used chocolate at all.

He had, however, made frosting – copious amounts, chock full of vanilla and sprinkled with more cinnamon and nutmeg and Tink ate the entire cookie.

Graham’s ice cream had melted in the machine.

And – after being forced to walk down the hallway and then back so it looked as if the judges were deliberating on camera – Killian won Chopped.

Graham groaned when they showed his ice cream soup underneath the plate cover and Killian's eyes immediately sought out Emma on the other side of the studio, green eyes bright and the smile on her face making him drift right back to the melodramatic.

“Congratulations, Jones,” Graham said, sticking his hand out in the space between them.

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry about the ice cream machine.” “Ah, got too fancy for my own good,” he laughed. “And I’m glad you got a chance to show off a little bit in front of Emma.” “Excuse me?” “I won’t say anything, but it’s a little obvious. Almost painfully, all things considered.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “She didn’t tell you?” “Tell me?” “That we went out. A couple of months ago.” Killian’s stomach was on the floor. Or maybe in his throat. And he was more angry than he thought he’d be. And jealous. Again.

“That so?” he said slowly, the sound of Emma’s sneakers approaching him the only thing that kept him rooted to the spot.

Graham nodded. “Yeah, just dinner one night. Ruby set it up. She’s far more interested in you than me.” Killian didn’t say anything else, Emma suddenly next to him, hand falling on his shoulder as she muttered congratulations in his ear. “Anyway,” Graham continued. “Figured I’d let you know. And congratulations again. I’ll see you guys at the next promotion.” And then he was gone and Killian still wasn’t certain where his stomach had ended up.

This was far too much information for one day.

“Hey,” Emma said softly, fingers brushing over his neck, just above the collar of his shirt. “You made cookies.” “As per instructions, Swan.” She laughed, turning so she was standing in front of him, the smile on her face making him wish his stomach would return to its appropriate place so it could flip at the look of her. “There aren’t any left.” “They were a bit of a hit.” “Of course they were,” she said, hands running up and down his arms. He could feel how tense he was under her touch, the way he was glancing over her head as Graham’s words lingered in his head and that uncertainty and lack of confidence returned in full-force. “You alright?” Emma asked. “You won!” “I did, love,” he agreed. “Just thinking.” “What did Graham say?” “How do you know Graham said anything?” “Because you should be thrilled. You made a zucchini cookie that was so good I can’t even have one and you’re not even excited. Now, come on, what did he say?” He took a deep breath, trying to come up with the right words that wouldn’t make him sound like a child. There weren’t any. He was acting like a child. “You went out with Graham.” Emma groaned softly, but her hands stayed trained on his arms, tightening slightly as she spoke. “Yeah. Not really willingly though.” “That sounds vaguely evil.” “It was Ruby’s idea,” she sighed. “And, you know, it wasn’t evil. It also wasn’t a lot of fun. Which is why I never called.” “No?”

She’d called him.

Granted that had been nearly a month ago, but she’d done it. And that meant something. It had to mean something.

Probably.

Jeez.

“No,” Emma repeated. “I didn’t see him again until we filmed those first promos. And I’ve barely talked to him since.” She narrowed her eyes at him, smile pulling on her lips and Killian tried not to look as ridiculous as he felt. “Why?” she asked. “Are you jealous?” “Look who’s talking – you with your guacamole metaphors and questions.” Emma laughed loudly, stepping towards him and resting her forehead on his shoulder. His hand came up to wrap around her waist instinctively and this was not the under-the-radar Regina had suggested.

At all.

“Even footing,” she mumbled.

“So it’d seem, love,” he answered, brushing his lips over the top of her head without even thinking about the half a dozen crew members still in the studio.

“There just wasn’t...anything,” Emma said, lifting her head back up to look at him.

“Where?” “With Graham.” “And now?”

Emma looked at him for a moment and the seconds seemed to drag. “Now there is.” Killian nodded and it wasn’t a definition and it wasn’t an explanation, but, for now it was enough. “I made more cookies,” he said softly.

“What?” Emma gaped at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He grinned at her, hand tightening until the back of her jacket was bunched between his fingers. “Thought it might be necessary.” “You were that confident in zucchini cookies?” “I was that confident in you wanting to eat my food.” Emma rolled her eyes, as she walked back towards his station and the cookie sheet that still had two extra cookies sitting on top of it. “That ego is really something else.” He shrugged and she bit down on the cookie, frosting lingering on the edges of her lips in a way that absolutely wasn’t fair.

“Well?” he prompted.

“The ego seems warranted,” she sighed. “How come you don’t make this kind of stuff more often?” “What do you mean, Swan?” “I mean why don’t you have a regular dessert menu at The Jolly and why aren’t these cookies in grocery stores across the country?”

He shrugged again. “You’re far too generous with your compliments.” “I’m serious.” “The desserts are for me, Swan. The baking is for me. I told you, it’s what I do when I can’t handle anything else. If I started to sell that, I wouldn’t have an outlet for anything.” “And you need that? An outlet?” His eyes flashed up and God she could read him better than anyone he’d ever met. Maybe even better than Liam had. Better than Milah.

And that was the first time Killian had thought of that name in a very long time – it was usually just her , a refusal to acknowledge everything he lost tied up in one moment and one name and one face.

Emma smiled at him and he got the distinct impression that, maybe, he’d suddenly found something in another moment and her name and face.

Melodramatic asshole.

“Is it because of the expansion?” she asked, thumb pulling across her lip as she licked the frosting off her finger.

“Some of it, I guess,” Killian admitted, suddenly treading on dangerous dessert-ridden terrain. “It’s a much bigger space than I thought it would be.”

“Is that bad?” “Just expensive.” Emma nodded knowingly. “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Sure.” “How come you don’t have a restaurant?” “What?” Her foot slid out from underneath her as she pushed herself away from where she was leaning on his station and her eyes went wide.

“You’re good, Swan. And you fall into a rhythm when you cook, all quick movements and everything works . It just seems to make sense.” She stood up straighter, teeth tugging on her lower lip. “I thought about it. A long time ago.” “But?” “But then Ruby showed up and brought me to the network and I got the show and it was doing so well that I kind of forgot about restaurants. I figured this was the safe bet, you know? And now that’s kind of slipping away.” “It’s not,” he countered and Emma made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. “Honestly, Swan.”

“Look who’s doling out compliments now,” she laughed. “Nah, restaurants aren’t for me anymore. Although, I will tell you that I enjoyed chopping vegetables for you. It was strangely soothing or something.” Killian grinned at her, tugging her closer to him and kissing her softly. And she seemed to sigh against him and that wasn’t fair either.

They were horrible at this.

She pulled away before he was even ready to consider stopping, keeping her forehead rested against his while her fingers brushed over the back of his hair. “We should probably stop doing this on set,” Emma mumbled, still so close he could almost feel her lips move against his when she spoke.

“Probably.”

“Work in progress.” “An admirable effort.” Emma huffed out a laugh, moving her head back and staring at him with a look that nearly knocked all the air out of him. “You still want to come to Granny’s?” she asked softly.

“Of course.”

She nodded once – like she was convincing herself he wasn’t lying – and leaned forward to kiss him again quickly. “Make sure you order your own plate of onion rings, because Henry’s not good at sharing them.”

“Duly noted.”

Emma smiled at him, hand dropping away from his neck to wrap around his fingers and lead him away from set.

“Killian!”

Henry nearly knocked over several glasses as he practically leapt out of the corner booth in Granny’s, sprinting across the diner floor and earning a low chuckle from the man next to Emma. Who still had his fingers wrapped up in hers.

“Hi Henry,” Killian said, smile threatening to take up his entire face.

Henry grinned in response, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet like he did when he got particularly excited about something and Emma couldn’t even bring herself to be frustrated that her kid hadn’t even acknowledged her yet.

“How was the show? Who won? Did you repurpose ingredients?” Henry asked, rattling off questions like he was being paid by the letter. “Because you have to repurpose the ingredients or you’ll totally get chopped. That’s what we figured out this weekend, right mom?” “Oh, I’m here too then?” Emma joked.

Henry groaned loudly and Emma heard David laugh pointedly from the booth on the other side of the room. “Hi, mom,” Henry replied dutifully and Emma reached forward to brush his hair off his forehead.

“Hi kid,” she said. “You didn’t drive M’s nuts this afternoon, did you?”

“Of course he didn’t,” Mary Margaret yelled, twisting around the back of the booth and only moving when David muttered something about aggravating her back .

“Eventually you’re just going to have to invest in a bubble or something,” Emma laughed, pushing on Henry’s shoulder to turn him back towards the table. Killian followed behind her as she walked, fingers tightening a fraction of an inch when David’s gaze lingered on their hands a few seconds longer than necessary. “Just put M’s inside and then let her go out and take on the world on her own.” “You’re hysterical, Emma, you know that?” David muttered and she grinned at him, sliding into the booth, Henry and Killian on either side of her.

And that seemed like a sign. Or something.

“Years of practice,” she shot back. David rolled his eyes.

“So,” Mary Margaret said pointedly, cutting into the middle of a patented Nolan-sibling fight like they were still sitting in the Blanchard’s living room on Main Street. “Spill, Em, how did it go? Any crazy food?” “Dragon tongue beans,” Killian answered, the disgust in his voice enough to make Emma’s smile widen even more.

“That sounds awesome!” Henry exclaimed. “What’d you make with them, mom? What round where they in?” “Is he always this full of questions?” Killian asked, voice lilting into Emma’s ear and she suddenly realized that his thigh was pressed up against hers underneath the table. And they still hadn’t actually defined anything.

They’d kissed instead.

Again.

“Always,” Emma promised, wrapping her arm around Henry’s shoulders and ignoring the soon-to-come groan at this motherly display of affection. “Alright, kid, let’s start at the top. They were not awesome. They were horrible and they taste horrible and I don’t know why anyone would eat them. I didn’t make anything with them. Killian did something with onions that was unfairly delicious. And they were main course.” “Mom,” Henry sighed, rolling his head onto her shoulder. “You didn’t do anything with them? That wasn’t part of the plan.” “I know.” “But main course seems good, right?” Mary Margaret added, a picture of sunshine and optimism on the other side of the booth. “You didn’t get cut first.” “I didn’t,” Emma agreed, biting her lip as she tried to push of the wave of nerves threatening to drown here right there in the middle of the diner on Leonard Street. “I got chopped second.”

She could feel Henry sigh next to her, his shoulders moving as he exhaled and Emma bit her lip so hard she could actually taste blood. She blinked quickly, trying to avoid the wave or the tide or whatever metaphor she was going with when she felt a hand on her knee and Killian’s eyes on her.

He was ignoring David’s very obvious glare, eyes trained on her – all blue and supportive and not talking about how he’d actually won Chopped that afternoon. And she was in way over her head.

“You did do something with the beans, Swan,” Killian said softly, every other head at the table snapping towards him when he spoke. “You cooked them. Very well, actually.” “How do you know they were good?” David asked sharply and Emma rolled her eyes. “I thought only the judges ate the food.” “Yeah, well, I’ve kind of got an agreement with the chef.” “That so?”

Mary Margaret’s hand landed on her husband’s shoulder and she widened her eyes in warning. David huffed out a deep breath, eyes, finally, pulling away from Killian’s to stare at Emma. “What’s he talking about?” he asked.

“We’ve kind of been stealing each other’s food after rounds,” Emma explained. “They’re long days, you know, and the catering table is horrible for a network built on food. He’s a far better option.” “Wow, Swan,” Killian laughed. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about my food. Glad to see I’m just your best option.” Emma grinned at him and he answered her in kind and she didn’t even care how uncomfortable David was. “Seriously, Uncle David, you should try some of Killian’s food. It’s really good,” Henry added and Emma tried not to slump down in the booth “When have you had his food?” David asked sharply.

Henry glanced warily at Emma, eyes wide and she glanced up at the ceiling of the restaurant, wondering if Granny was actually avoiding the table because they were arguing so loudly. “Couple of weeks ago,” Emma answered. “Killian helped Henry study for an American history exam.” “What?” “David,” Mary Margaret sighed, but he just shook his head quickly.

“No, no,” he muttered. “Why didn’t I know that happened?” “Because it’s none of your business?” Emma asked, voice rising of its own accord. “I don’t have to give you a detailed description of where Henry and I are going every night.” “Weeks ago, Emma. That was weeks ago. And it never came up once? Not even at Halloween? I tried to tell you something I thought was important and you brushed me off. Is that why? Because you were nervous that you’d already involved Henry in all of this?”

“You’re being an ass again,” Emma hissed.

David made a face, eyes landing on Killian again with a look that made it all too clear he had something he desperately wanted to say. Emma didn’t give him a chance. “And, as previously mentioned, David, none of that is your business. Henry got an A on that exam, so, honestly, that’s all I’m really concerned about.”

She chanced a look at Killian – smiling softly at her out of the corner of her eye – and David deflated slightly. “An A’s really good,” he mumbled. “Good for you, Henry.” “Killian helped with the dates,” Henry added and David looked like he was about to argue something, but Killian cut him off.

“That was all you,” he said quickly. “I didn’t take the test.” David didn’t know what to do what that.

“Did you study history, Killian?” Mary Margaret asked, hand still on David’s shoulder.

“They don’t have majors at the Academy,” David muttered and Emma nearly sagged against Henry. Killian’s hand tightened around her knee.

“Actually,” he countered, “they do. It’s still a school, you know. And, to answer, your question, Mary Margaret, I did.”

She nodded quickly, fingers tracing along David’s spine as she tried to keep the conversation on track. Emma appreciated that – until her next question. “At the Academy? What Academy are we talking about here?” Killian’s eyes darted towards Emma and she tried to apologize without actually saying anything. “He was in the Navy,” Henry answered, voice picking up again. “He told me he knows how to shoot a gun. Kind of like you, Uncle David, only like on a boat.” “Ship,” Killian corrected softly and Emma’s heart did something stupid at that.

“Ship,” Henry repeated reverently.

“You were in the Navy, Killian?” Mary Margaret asked. “How did you end up on Iron Chef? And with your own restaurant?” “It’s kind of a long story,” he said. “One David apparently didn’t go into much detail about.” “I didn’t really want to know. Figured it was kind of like cheating.” Killian laughed and stared at Mary Margaret like he’d never quite seen anything like her. He probably hadn’t. She was too nice for her own good. “I appreciate that,” he said and Mary Margaret just shrugged softly. “I was in the Navy, for about five years before I left.” David scoffed and Emma kicked him underneath the table. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Unfortunately it wasn’t a very positive end for either us – me or the Navy. My brother had died in action and without him there, there didn’t seem to be much of a point to serving anymore. So I left – without much permission. Any really.” “You left?” Henry repeated and Killian’s jaw flexed.

Emma was going to kill David. Right there in the booth. And then they’d never be able to come back to Granny’s.

“Wasn’t my finest moment,” Killian said quickly.

“Is that how you lost your hand? When your brother died?” “Henry!” Emma, Mary Margaret and David spoke at once, voices sharp in the restaurant. Emma was positive she saw Granny turn around and walk back into the kitchen when she heard the three of them yell. She kicked David again.

“It’s alright, Swan,” Killian said softly, thumb moving in a small circle across the bottom of her thigh. “And you don’t have to keep kicking your brother.” She glared at him pointedly, David muttering under his breath on the other side of the table. “Sorry,” Henry said quietly, but Killian just shook his head.

“Don’t be. It’s a fair question.” He took a deep breath, glancing at Emma once before leaning around her and meeting Henry’s curious gaze head on. “I didn’t lose my hand in the Navy. About a year and a half after, actually.” “How?”

“Henry,” Emma whispered sharply, shaking her head. Killian pulled his hand off her leg and moved it back up to her shoulder, squeezing slightly in silent contradiction. She didn’t say anything else – ignoring the way her mind raced at the feel of his hand and the admission that he hadn’t lost his hand in the Navy.

David looked a little nervous and she could hear what he’d told her in the kitchen two weeks ago – And, probably, who that woman tattooed on his arm is.

She didn’t know how she knew, probably something about being an open book to each other or some other absurd nonsense that made her feel more connected to Killian Jones than just about anyone else in her life, but Emma was positive it had to do with her – Milah. It was all about her, somehow, his hand and the way he seemed to kind of hate himself sometimes and that, admittedly very attractive, determination to prove himself.

“Car accident,” Killian said simply, not breaking away from Henry’s gaze. “I was 27 and I got in a cab one night and we didn’t realize the driver was drunk. It all happened kind of fast, honestly. He was driving back uptown and tried to take a left and didn’t see the car coming right at him until it was too late.” Henry bit his lip – looking so much like Emma she had to blink a few times to stop herself from actually starting to cry at the sight – and the entire table sat silent for what felt like several decades.

“I’m sorry,” Henry said softly and before Emma could stop him he reached around her, hand resting on Killian’s forearm, just above his brace.

And he didn’t pull away, didn’t move an inch – just looked slightly stunned at the twelve-year-old kid in front of him and Emma was absolutely on the verge of hysterics.

“I, uh, I didn’t know that part,” David said suddenly, making Emma’s head whip towards him. Killian hummed questioningly in the back of his throat, fingers dancing along the bottom of Emma’s head as they pushed into her hair. “I didn’t know there was a drunk driver involved. In the accident, I mean.” His hand stopped moving and Emma held her breath – that was a David Nolan sorry-I-was-a-dick-but-I’m-just-trying-to-protect-my-sister apology. And she wasn’t sure anyone except her and Mary Margaret would figure it out.

“Looks like you need better background checks then,” Killian said. “I distinctly remembering filling out an obscene amount of NYPD paperwork when I woke up. Luckily I’m right handed, so it wasn’t a big deal.” Emma’s whole body nearly fell over with slightly-manic sounding laughter and Killian grinned at her, moving his eyebrows quickly. David nodded slowly, smile spreading across his face as he stuck his hand out over the table. “I’m sorry,” he said and it sounded like he meant it and Emma couldn’t figure out if she was going to faint or start to cry.

“What is happening?” she muttered, mostly to Mary Margaret who just shrugged in response.

“I like him,” David said, nodding towards Killian. “And if he can get Henry an A on an American history exam, then that seems pretty good. Even if I do have a minor in history.” “European,” Emma pointed out. “And only because you had too many AP credits when you got to school and walked in with a minor. That doesn’t count.” “Whatever.”

And then it was fine – or as fine as a quasi-family dinner in an otherwise abandoned diner could be on a Tuesday night.

Granny, finally, showed up at the table, bringing a pre-dinner plate of onion rings for Henry. And he only objected slightly when Killian moved around Emma to grab one off the plate, claiming he had to test them before flashing a smile at her that went straight to her toes.

And she was so goddamn happy her face hurt from smiling.

“You know,” Henry said once their food arrived later, chewing on a grilled cheese in between syllables. “You never told us who actually won today.” “Chew, kid.” He rolled his eyes in response and Emma bit into her grilled cheese, earning herself a frustrated groan from both her kid and her brother. “You’re both horribly impatient. You know they put the show on TV.” “And why would we do that when you’re here to tell us?” David asked.

“Don’t do it Emma,” Ruby said sharply, walking into the diner with a frustrated look on her face.

“Where have you been?” Emma asked, sitting up a bit straighter as her producer marched into the restaurant, only pausing long enough to grab a bear claw off the display on the counter. “I thought you were on your way out like hours ago.” “I was,” Ruby said, wrapping her foot around the bottom of a chair to drag it to the end of the table. “But then I ran into Regina and she was on the warpath because someone,” she glared pointedly at Killian, “walked out without filming his talking head. You need to answer your phone.” “It’s on silent,” he muttered and Emma bit back a laugh. “And I can do it later. It’s not like they’re putting it on TV tomorrow.” “You know what I just did?” Killian shook his head slowly, holding an onion ring halfway in front of his mouth. “I just spent the last hour with your producer explaining to Zelena why everything wasn’t filmed yet and how no one had managed to stop the two of you from walking off set together. Jeez, I thought this morning was bad, but this is worse. You’re not even official and you’re already messing everything up.”

“What happened this morning?” Henry asked, a picture of curious innocence. Emma waved her hand quickly in front of him, trying not to kick Ruby under the table as well.

“Official, huh?” David repeated, laughing slightly under her breath and Emma couldn’t quite deal with the whiplash of that. Killian looked slightly overwhelmed – for someone who claimed they didn’t have a family, Emma certainly appeared to have plenty of people ready and willing to butt their way into things that weren’t their business.

She opened her mouth – not certain who she was going to answer first or how she was going to explain any of this when she couldn’t quite figure it out herself. Except she never even got a word out.

“It’s a boy!” Mary Margaret shouted and every head at the table turned towards her, each mouth hanging open slightly. “What?” Emma muttered, tears pricking her eyes almost immediately.

“It’s a boy,” Mary Margaret repeated, ignoring David’s frustrated groan.

“We weren’t going to tell them yet,” he said. “Yeah, well, you weren’t supposed to be an asshole to Killian again either and yet here we are.” David’s open-mouthed stare quickly turned into a smile and he leaned forward to kiss Mary Margaret quickly as Henry groaned loudly. Emma might have groaned a bit too.

“They do that all the time,” Henry said, turning to look at Killian who just smirked at the overwhelmingly family moment in front of him. He still had his fingers wrapped around the back of Emma’s neck and, for one moment, she let herself lean into the touch – ignoring her brother’s happiness for a second or two of her own.

“It’s not the worst thing in the world,” Killian muttered.

Henry groaned again. “I guess.” “Let’s pump the brakes on that conversation real quick,” Emma said and Henry nearly slid down the back of the booth as Killian nodded and kissed the top of her head. The whole thing was overwhelmingly domestic. “When did you find out?” Emma asked, trying to refocus the conversation on anything that wasn’t her. Or her relationship.

If that’s the word they were using.

“Couple of days ago,” Mary Margaret answered, pulled flush against David’s side. Emma was positive she’d never seen her brother so happy.

“And you didn’t say anything?” “You’ve been busy.” “I wish everyone would stop using that as an excuse.”

“It’s true,” David shrugged.

Emma pressed her lips together and shook her head and she absolutely wasn’t crying. She wasn’t. She was just kind of overwhelmed. But not crying. A boy.

They were going to have a boy.

“Em, are you crying?” David asked, voice tinged with surprised laughter.

“No,” Emma said quickly and she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. “Of course not. Being emotional about you having a kid, a son , is totally out of the question. Whatever. I don’t care at all.” “I thought you didn’t want to know,” Ruby cut in. “Weren’t we all instructed to purchase gender neutral gifts? Because I was all about decking that kid out in red from head to toe.” “Is red gender neutral?” Emma asked.

Ruby just shrugged. “I honestly don’t care. It’s a good color. I had a whole plan, so it better at least be good enough for tiny-Nolan because that’s what he’s getting from here on out.” “I’m sure tiny-Nolan will appreciate whatever you buy him,” Mary Margaret said. “And we might not have to call him that much longer either.” “You are just chock full of secrets today, aren’t you?” Emma laughed, grabbing an onion ring off Henry��s plate and grinning at him when he cried in disbelief of what she’d done.

“Not secrets really, ” Mary Margaret countered. “Just previously unheard information.” “Sounds a lot like the definition of secrets.” “We might have a name picked out?” “Might?” Mary Margaret nodded, glancing at David. “Leo,” he said softly and Emma was absolutely crying now, fingers rubbing roughly at her cheeks as she tried to get rid of the evidence as quickly as possible.

“Oh,” she muttered softly, a half-eaten onion ring still in her other hand. “Of course.”

“Who’s Leo?” Henry asked and Emma took a deep breath through her nose, lifting her head back up to find that Mary Margaret was crying too.

Killian probably thought they were all crazy.

“My dad,” Mary Margaret said.

“I’ve never met him.” “Yeah, yeah, you wouldn’t have. He, uh, he died when I was in college. But he was the most important person in my life for a really long time.” “It’s perfect, M’s,” Emma said, meaning every word.

Emma had been fifteen.

Mary Margaret and David were sophomores and it had all happened incredibly fast – too fast for anyone to really be able to process any of it. Mr. Blanchard had been diagnosed in August and he was gone by Christmas.

Just days before.

The funeral was two days before Christmas.

Mary Margaret didn’t cry at the funeral. Her voice didn’t break when she gave the eulogy. She hardly even nodded at the line of Storybrooke residents filed out of the church, shaking her hand and telling her how sorry they were for her loss.

She didn’t cry until the end, until they walked away from the grave site and turned their backs on the casket. And then she nearly fell against David, his arms wrapped tightly around her while Emma tried to do something , rubbing circles on Mary Margaret’s back while she cried until she couldn’t breathe anymore.

And that was when Emma knew – there was no one stronger than Mary Margaret. Not in Storybrooke and, likely, not in the entire world.

She paid for college on her own from there on out – worked two jobs during her final two years and then got a GA position so she could get her masters. She student-taught in the Bronx and held after-school reading groups for her students and Emma had all but forced Henry into her class when he’d been that age.

Mary Margaret was, at times, painfully positive, certain the world would just work the way it was supposed to and Emma’s natural cynicism fought against that more often than not, but no one deserved some sort of metaphorical happy ending more.

And no one would ever be loved more than the soon-to-be Leo Nolan.

“Don’t waste all your tears on that quite yet, because I’ve got one more secret,” Mary Margaret warned.

Emma nodded, sitting up a little straighter as Killian’s arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “Ok,” she said. “Do your worst. Or best.” “We picked a middle name too.” “I don’t know what you guys are talking about with me, you’re the busy ones. Do we have other relatives to honor with names?”

“See, that’s where we kind of need your permission?” “Mine?” Emma repeated, stunned slightly. “What for?” “Well, you and Henry actually,” Mary Margaret answered, smile nearly taking over every part of her face. “Tiny-Nolan’s full name will, we hope, be Leo Henry Nolan.”

Emma’s head landed on Killian’s shoulder before she could stop herself and the tears were just absurd at this point. She felt him laugh softly underneath her, hand moving up and down her arm and making her sleeve bunch against his fingers.

“You want to name him after me?” Henry asked, nearly screaming the words.

“Kind of,” David said. “We just thought it’d be cool if he knew who his heroes should be from the get-go, you know what I mean? And, well, we can’t really use Emma as a middle name, although we considered it, so we thought Henry kind of got both of you in one fell swoop.” “What do you think?” Mary Margaret asked quietly, eyes wide when she looked at Emma.

“I think it’s perfect,” she said, not entirely sure how she managed to talk when she couldn’t really breathe. That seemed to be a trend for the day.

Mary Margaret reached across the table, ignoring David’s protests about stretching too far and squeezed Emma’s hand tightly in hers. “Me too,” she whispered.

“Now, come on,” David said, pulling Mary Margaret back against the booth as both Emma and Ruby rolled their eyes at the absurdity of it. “We told our secrets or news or whatever. Now you’ve got to tell us who won today.” Emma glanced questioningly at Ruby who just shrugged. “Fine,” she sighed. “But no specifics or anything. We’ve got to at least act like we play by the rules on this.” “To be fair,” Killian added. “Regina absolutely tells Robin everything that happens on set. And probably my hostess too. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were talking about it now.”

“I knew she would,” Ruby hissed, scowling. “I knew it! And she acted like it was all under lock and key and..” “Guys,” David cut in sharply. “Who won?” “Oh,” Ruby said flippantly, shaking her hair off her shoulders, the light of the diner’s overhead bulbs practically reflecting off her red highlights. “Killian did.” “For real?” Henry exclaimed, nearly tackling Emma as he moved to look at a slightly-embarrassed Killian. “What’d you make for dessert? Who’d you beat? Was there something super crazy in the final basket?”

“Breathe,” Emma laughed, pushing Henry back into his seat.

Killian held up three fingers, making sure he didn't miss any of Henry’s questions. “Cookies, per your mom’s request. Graham. Zucchini, but that’s deceptively crazy because it actually works pretty well with dessert-like spices, so I’m not sure that there’s an actual answer to the final question.” “Were there extra cookies?” “You literally just ate a plate of onion rings.” “Were there extra cookies?” Henry repeated.

“I can’t believe you ate the extra cookies,” Henry groaned at her.

“They were good!” “I’ll make you a deal,” Killian said, looking at Henry over the top of Emma’s head. “You stop texting while you’re in class and the next time you’re at The Jolly we’ll make some kind of dessert again, ok?”

“Like the cookies you made for the team?” “I seem to remember I promised brownies before.” “You did.” “Then brownies seems fair.”

Mary Margaret sniffed audibly and Ruby practically fell out of her chair when she started laughing. “What is your deal, M’s?” Emma asked, eyebrows rising close to her hairline. “We still on names?” “No, no, I’m fine,” she said, looking like the freaking sun in the middle of the diner as she beamed across the table. “Pregnancy hormones.”

Emma didn’t respond, positive it absolutely wasn’t pregnancy hormones, but that wasn’t a conversation she was willing to have in this suddenly very-crowded booth. She stole another onion ring off her kid’s plate instead.

They were waiting for Granny to wrap up half a dozen leftover baked goods for Henry half an hour later when David walked up to Emma at the end of the counter, holding his hands up as he moved towards her, an apologetic look on his face.

“What?” she sighed, not quite able to stay mad at him.

“You know what.” “I’d love to hear you say it.” “I’m sorry. For being an ass. You know, again.” “I don’t get why,” Emma said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. She glanced to the other end of the restaurant, Killian next to Henry with his hand on his shoulder, talking about the soccer game he’d had over the weekend.

“I worry about you,” David answered, like that explained everything.

“You worry about everything.” “Especially you though. I wouldn’t have thought he’d tell you about the Navy.” “You kind of backed him into a corner.” “He tell you anything else?” Emma sighed, exasperation written across her face. “Sorry, sorry,” David muttered. “I know I’m doing it again.” “I need you to let me figure this out. I don’t have any answers for you yet and I’m not going to push him to talk to me until he wants to. So, frankly, take your background check and shove it.” David laughed loudly, shaking his head as he wrapped Emma in a hug, hand wrapping around the back of her head. “I can do that,” he agreed. “He seems like a good guy. And Henry really seems to like him.” “He does, but that doesn’t change anything you know. No one is encroaching on your status here.” “What do you mean?” David asked and Emma just stared at him – he wasn’t a very good liar either.

“Henry will still want to hang out with you. And you’re just as important as ever. This is all still really new and really undefined and I need you to stop trying to scare Killian away.” “That is the opposite of what I’m trying to do,” David promised. “You’re happy, Em. I just want to make sure you’ve got all the facts. “I can get ‘em on my own.” “I don’t doubt that.” “You ready to go, Swan?” Killian asked. Emma spun around, vaguely terrified at how much he heard, but the smile on his face made her believe he was more focused on her than he was on the discussion she’d been having with her brother.

“You don’t have to walk us back,” she said. “It’s only a couple of blocks.” “And my restaurant is three blocks away from where you live. I should probably acknowledge them at some point today, make sure it hasn’t burned down or anything.”

“I doubt Ariel would let that happen.” Killian nodded solemnly, but his eyes were bright and Emma needed her brother to move . “Mom,” Henry said, skidding to a stop next to Killian, a paper bag clutched in his hand. “If we’re going to go back to The Jolly, you think I can get one of those root beer floats again? It was really good the last time.” “School night,” Emma said, shaking her head. Henry’s shoulders drooped, but Killian nudged his side, glancing at him with a smirk on his face.

“Next time,” he promised.

“Alright,” Emma muttered, ignoring whatever her pulse was doing. “Come on, let’s head home.”

They’d made quite a trio – walking the ten blocks from Granny’s back downtown and if Emma let herself, it almost felt like something . She wouldn’t use the word, couldn’t let herself think that when they hadn’t even defined the whatever.

Her mind, however, had different ideas.

It felt like a family.

#cs fic #cs au #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #ootfp #david won't be a jerk forever #also for someone who can't even turn on their own oven #i've looked up a lot of actual recipes for this fic

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wordsintimeandspace · 7 years

Text

Who We Are (4/?)

Author: @wordsintimeandspace Pairing: fem!Ten/Rose (AU) Summary: When her 18th birthday and with that the appearance of her soulmark approaches, Rose is sure that it will only confirm Jimmy Stone as her soulmate. The realization that it’s not him turns her life upside down, especially when she meets Jane Smith, also known as the Doctor, only a few weeks later. Rating: Teen Words: ~3600 Notes: Beta’ed by @asmilelikestarlight, thanks dear!

Read this and previous chapters on AO3 or tumblr.

Rose woke early the next morning.

Muted light fell through the curtains covering the windows, illuminating the unfamiliar room just enough for Rose to make out her surroundings. Jane’s living room. Rose let out a sigh, plopping back down onto the couch when she realized where she was and the events of the past night caught up on her. A dull headache was left behind her temples. She still felt exhausted and emotionally drained, but it wasn’t the kind of tiredness that sleep could fix. And although it had been late when Rose had finally settled down for the night, she couldn’t fall back asleep.

Instead, Rose raked a hand through her hair and stared at the ceiling as she contemplated how much her life had changed, not only in the past day, but gradually in the past weeks. The thing she had been scared of most - breaking off with Jimmy and admitting to herself that all of this had been a terrible mistake - had become reality. But for the first time since all this started, the constant dread and fear were gone. She didn’t need Jimmy in her life, and that realization made her feel lighter than she had in weeks.

Still, there was a lot that needed to be done before she could leave this part of her life behind for good. First of all, figuring out where she could stay. There was no way she could share a flat with Jimmy any longer. Just the thought made her feel sick. Her job at Henrik’s didn’t pay well enough to afford a flat on her own, not in London, and she couldn’t stay on Jane’s couch forever, no matter how much she wanted to. There was only one obvious solution.

Groaning, Rose reached for her mobile on the coffee table. She checked the time, making sure that it wasn’t too early to call, and scrolled through her contacts. Her finger trembled as she hovered over her mum’s number for a while, gathering the courage she needed. She finally pressed the button, taking a deep breath as the phone rang. It was time to come home.

~~~

After the call, Rose stumbled into the bathroom, freshening up as well as she could. She changed back into her clothes, wiped the smudged mascara off her face and gathered her tousled hair in a messy ponytail. This would have to do for now.

When she left the bathroom, she heard clattering from the kitchen. Jane was standing at the stove, cursing under her breath as she tried to get eggs into the pan and bread into the toaster at the same time.

Rose stopped in the doorway for a moment, letting her gaze sweep over her. Her eyes lingered for a second on Jane’s bare legs. She was still in sleep clothes, dressed in shorts and an oversized shirt. Affection and gratitude bloomed in Rose’s chest. She wasn’t sure what she would have done without Jane in the past night. She already owed her so much - and now Jane was even making breakfast for her.

“Can I help you?” she asked and Jane whirled around. She grinned at Rose when their eyes met.

“Good morning! And, uh… yes please.” She gestured toward the toaster while she turned back to her eggs. Rose giggled as she got two slices of bread out of the package and put them into the toaster.

“You’re up early,” she commented.

“Yes, couldn’t sleep any more. Heard you were awake so I thought I might as well start on breakfast.”

“Good idea. I’m starving,” Rose said, filling the kettle with water and switching it on. Jane reached up to get two mugs out of the cupboard, handing them over to Rose.

“Nearly done. Can you make a bit of space at the table?”

Rose chuckled when she spotted the mess on the kitchen table. It was covered by books and papers, exactly like the living room. Curious to see what this was about, Rose gathered a few sheets in her hands and frowned at the equations scribbled down in messy handwriting.

“Astrophysics?” she asked, reading the title from one of the books. “Wow. Sounds complicated.”

“Yep! I’m getting my doctorate. That’s where that nickname comes from.”

“The Doctor?” Rose repeated, remembering the moment when Jane had introduced herself for the first time.

“That’s me,” Jane grinned, loading eggs and toast onto their plates. Rose quickly gathered the books from the table and moved them to the window sill. She sat down in front of a filled plate, her stomach rumbling.

“So, astrophysics…” Rose started again after the first bite of toast. “That’s impressive.”

“Well, I am impressive,” Jane said with a wink. “But really, it’s mostly just fun.”

“Doesn’t look like much fun,” Rose said warily, eyeing a sheet with equations that was still forgotten on the table. “I don’t think I understand any of that.”

“Well, that’s just the theory behind it. The real fun is the field work! Watching stars and supernovas and black holes, witnessing all the wonders of this universe.” Jane’s eyes lit up. “It’s amazing how much we can see from this tiny little rock, given the right telescope. Maybe I can show you someday, if you’d like.”

Rose couldn’t miss the hopeful tone in Jane’s voice at the last part. It wasn’t just a simple question; it held so much more about their future. She gave Jane a soft smile.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said and Jane smiled back, a bit shyly. “Still not sure I’ll get all the stuff you’re working on.”

“Oh, but I’m sure you’re brilliant!”

Rose grimaced, taking a sip of her tea before she continued.

“Dunno about that. I’m working in a shop.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” Jane said, frowning. “And I had the impression you liked that job.”

“I do, in general,” Rose started, “but I’m not sure if I want to keep doing that. I took that job because I needed money to pay for rent after I moved in with Jimmy, but now… maybe I can think about something else to do. Something more than just selling clothes to people, you know? Not that it’s bad, just can’t see myself doing that for the rest of my life.”

Jane smiled at her. “Sounds good, if that’s what you want.”

Rose shrugged. “I just don’t know what I want to do instead.” She sighed, running a hand over her face. “I have no idea what’s going to happen in my life now. This was all a bit sudden. I can move back in with my mum, but apart from that I have nothing figured out.“

Jane reached for her hand, hesitating for a moment. But when Rose didn’t pull back Jane entangled their fingers together and gave Rose’s hand a squeeze. “You’ve got all the time in the world to figure things out. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Rose looked down at their linked hands, letting out a long breath. With Jane’s hand in hers and her voice in her ear, low and reassuring, all the anxiety drained out of her. In that moment, she sincerely believed Jane was right: it was going to be okay. She blinked, tears brimming in her eyes.

“I mean it,” Jane said again, giving her hand another squeeze. “We can get your stuff out of your flat today and then you’ll never have to see that idiot again. Then you’re free to do whatever you want in your life. A whole universe, right at your fingertips, waiting for you to explore.”

Rose laughed, wiping away her tears. “You’re daft.”

Jane only grinned, a besotted smile on her lips. “Oh, but you love it, don’t you? See, you’re smiling.”

“Yeah, I do,” Rose admitted, watching with delight how Jane’s cheeks flushed at her response. She took a deep breath, trying to steer her thoughts back to what needed to be done. “And yes, getting my things today sounds like a good idea. I just want to be done with this as soon as possible.”

“All right! We can do that.” Jane tilted her head, thinking. “D’you think Jimmy will cause any trouble if he’s there?”

“Dunno. He might,” Rose sighed. “I don’t really trust him at the moment.”

Jane frowned. “I can text a friend and ask if he can help us. Might be good to have someone a bit more intimidating with us, just in case.”

Rose nodded. The thought that she wouldn’t have to face Jimmy alone calmed her immediately. Jane gave her one last smile and they finished their breakfast, the conversation quickly turning to lighter topics. Jane called her friend afterwards while Rose did the dishes, and it didn’t take long until the doorbell rang.

Jack Harkness, Rose decided as soon as he entered the flat, didn’t look intimidating at all. Quite the contrary. Charming and confident were the first two words that came to her mind.

He barged into the flat as soon as Jane opened the door, all teeth and smiles. “Hello Doctor,” he exclaimed.

“Hey,” Jane said in greeting before Jack pulled her into a quick hug.

Then his gaze fell on her. Rose barely had time to notice the alarm on Jane’s face before he was at her side.

“Jack Harkness,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling. He gave Rose a cheeky smile. “And who are you?”

“Stop it,” Jane growled somewhere behind them.

“I’m just saying hello.”

“You’re not. You’re flirting.”

“I can’t help it. There’s a beautiful woman in your apartment, Jane. A mysterious stranger whose name I still don’t know.”

He winked at Rose, making her blush.

“Rose, I’m Rose,” she finally managed to say, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Jack said, shaking her hand. Jane groaned.

“I didn’t ask you over for a flirt,” she complained, scowling at Jack. “Rose and I could need some help getting her stuff out of her ex-boyfriend’s flat. I told you that. You know, that ex-boyfriend she broke up with just yesterday. Not the time, Harkness.”

Jack had the decency to look at least a little bit abashed. “Oh, right. Sorry,” he said, giving Rose his best puppy-dog eyes. Rose couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s fine,” she said and Jack relaxed. He turned towards Jane with a grin.

“I thought you just wanted her all for yourself,” he teased.

To their amusement, Jane turned a rather dark shade of pink. “I- that’s not… I’m-” Jane spluttered before taking a deep breath. “We don’t have time for this,” she quickly said with a roll of her eyes, rushing into the corridor. “Let me just get the car keys and get going.”

Jack shot Rose a look, a knowing smile on his lips. Her cheeks grew hot under his gaze, but neither of them said a word. They probably didn’t need to.

~~~

They pulled up to Rose’s and Jimmy’s flat not long after. Rose sucked in a shuddering breath, looking up towards the windows. There was no light, no movement. No answer to the question if she would have to see Jimmy one last time. She gulped, nervously fiddling with the key in her pocket.

“Ready to do this?” Jane asked quietly from the driver’s seat. Rose nodded.

“Yes. As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

Heart beating hard against her ribs, Rose walked up the stairs, the other two following behind her. She hesitated for a second in front of the door before sliding the key into the lock.

It was dark in the flat, the curtains still drawn over the windows, casting shadows into the hallway. The flat felt strange and foreign. This wasn’t home anymore.

Holding her breath, Rose walked over the threshold. There was a noise coming from the living room, crushing her hopes that Jimmy wouldn’t be home. She tensed, listening to the footsteps coming closer.

“Oh, look who’s coming back,” Jimmy said, rounding the corner with a sly smile on his face. But he froze when he caught sight of Jane and Jack, the smile dissolving into a frown.

“I’m not coming back,” Rose said, her voice cool. “I’m just here to pick up my stuff.”

Jimmy let out a huff. “Come on, you can’t be serious,” he complained. “Don’t make a fuss about this.”

Rose clenched her hands into fists, irritation boiling in her veins. “I made my decision and that’s it.”

Deciding it was best to ignore Jimmy completely, she strode past him towards the bedroom. She pulled out a large suitcase that was tucked away in one corner before opening the wardrobe, letting her gaze wander over all the clothes. Hoodies, jeans, a couple of T-shirts. She didn’t have much in her possession and in this moment she was glad. Packing up would be quick.

“Let’s just talk about this first,” Jimmy protested, his voice shaking with anger as he followed her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to move out immediately.”

“You heard her,” Jane growled behind them. Both Rose and Jimmy looked back at her in surprise. She lingered in the doorway with Jack at her side, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Jimmy. “She’s moving out and that’s it.”

“And who are you two?” Jimmy snarled. His gaze flickered from Jane to Jack and his expression darkened.

“Oh, I see how it is. That’s your bloody soulmate, eh? That guy?” He nodded towards Jack. “What happened to ‘I’m not seeing him’?”

Rose froze, unable to bring the truth over her lips. Blood rushed in her ears and she helplessly looked towards Jane and Jack, who looked as stunned as she felt. Jack opened his mouth to protest. But then his eyes flickered from Jane to Rose and back and understanding crossing his features. He closed his mouth with a click before he could say a word.

Jimmy didn’t catch on to the truth. He turned towards Rose, anger radiating off him in waves.

“I can’t believe it,” Jimmy continued, raising his voice. “You lying bitch.”

He made a quick step towards Rose and she backed away from him, the infuriated expression on his face making her heart race. Behind them, Jane tried to rush forward, her face screwed up in anger, but Jack grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. Jane was tall, Rose had to admit, but she was skinny and didn’t look like she’d have a chance against Jimmy if things turned pear-shaped. But Jack was different.

He strode forward, all this charm replaced by determination and ruthlessness, and grabbed Jimmy’s arm before he could take another step in her direction. Jimmy howled in pain as Jack twisted his arm on his back and roughly pulled him away from Rose.

“What the-” Jimmy started, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

“You will not call her names like that,” Jack hissed. “Do you understand?”

“Get off me!” Jimmy protested. He yelped when Jack tightened his grip on him.

“I asked if you understand.”

“Yes, fuck. I won’t do it again. Just let me go.”

Jack pulled back, just slightly.

“Good. And you will not come near her again. Unless she asks you to, of course. But I highly doubt that she will. So you’re gonna give her some space now-” Jack pulled Jimmy towards the door, allowing no protests. “So she can pack up her stuff. Are we clear?”

Jane rushed at Rose’s side as she watched in stunned silence how Jack ushered Jimmy out of the room. Rose let out the breath she was holding when he was finally out of sight. She heard Jimmy throwing a string of insults at Jack, but then he yelped again before he was silent.

“Jack used to be in the military,” Jane explained. “Some kind of secret government organization. Comes in handy in situations like this. You all right?”

Rose nodded slowly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

She looked down at her trembling hands, taking a deep breath. Jane reached out for her, giving her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.

Rose turned back towards the wardrobe, gulping down the lump in her throat.

“Right,” she said with determination. “Let’s get this over with.”

With Jane’s help, it didn’t take long to pack up her stuff. Clothes, toiletries, a few books, a couple of mugs that she was fond of. All her belongings fitted into the large suitcase and two bags. Jimmy was sulking in the background, carefully guarded by Jack. He glared at her whenever Rose crossed his line of vision, but he didn’t dare to speak up again.

They quickly finished up and loaded the luggage into the car. Rose threw her key into the letterbox and sank down on the passenger seat, watching in relief how the house disappeared in the rear view mirror. She was more than ready to leave this part of her life behind.

“Back to your mum?” Jane asked quietly and Rose nodded. She guided Jane through the streets of London, leaving the centre behind as they headed towards the Powell Estate. Soon, she recognized the familiar concrete buildings and Rose couldn’t help but smile. In a way, she had missed this view.

Jane parked in front of the building and together they carried her luggage upstairs. In front of the flat Rose took a deep breath, but the door opened before she could ring the bell.

“Rose!”

A second later Rose was enveloped into a tight hug from Jackie Tyler. Rose wrapped her arms around her, burying her head in her shoulder.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you. I missed you so much,” Jackie said, swinging Rose gently from one side to the other. Tears brimmed in Rose’s eyes.

“I missed you too mum,” she said, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence. It had been a long time since she’d hugged her mum like this. Ever since Rose had started going out with Jimmy, things had been tense between them. Jackie hadn’t approved of him, and now Rose wished she had listened to her a lot earlier. Especially in the last few weeks they had barely seen each other. Rose hadn’t realized how much she had missed her mother until she was in her arms. Jackie hugged her tight, as if all the arguments of the past months hadn’t happened, and Rose couldn’t hold back her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to say, but Jackie shushed her before she could say anything else.

“Oh, none of that, sweetheart. I’m just happy you’re home,” Jackie said. She pulled back slightly to look Rose in the eye, making sure she was all right. “And I’m glad you finally got rid of that wanker.”

Rose laughed through her tears, pulling out of the embrace. She wiped her cheeks as she listened to Jackie ranting about Jimmy bloody Stone and smiled. Everything was how it used to be, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

~~~

Jane and Jack helped to get her luggage inside. Despite Jackie’s insistence that they should stay for tea they decided to leave, giving Rose and Jackie time to catch up. Rose felt her mother’s gaze on her as they said goodbye, could already feel all the questions that only waited to spill out of Jackie’s mouth. Her friends turned to leave, heading towards the staircase, and a rush of panic surged through Rose as she watched them disappear. This was going too fast. There were so many things that still needed to be said before they went apart.

“Jane!” she yelled before the other girl could vanish into the staircase. Jane stopped, turning around to her in confusion, and Rose broke out into a run to catch up with her.

“Wait. I was just…” Rose trailed off, not quite sure how to say the things she needed to get off her chest.

“Yes?” Jane prompted, a small smile on her lips.

“I was wondering what’s going to happen now,” Rose finally admitted, nervously picking at her nails. “You know. Between us.”

Jane’s chest heaved as she took a long breath. “I- I just want to say, I meant the things I said yesterday,” she started. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re in no way obligated to keep me in your life, not because of the soulmarks, and not because I helped you out last night. It’s your decision.”

“But if I want you in my life?”

Jane’s eyes widened before her lips curled into a soft smile.

“I’d like that,” she said, reaching for Rose’s hand.

Rose smiled, entangling her fingers with hers and looking down at their linked hands. It just felt natural, to have Jane’s hand in hers. It was a perfect fit.

“I still mean what I said yesterday as well,” Rose said quietly. “That I’m just so confused right now. I don’t know what to feel. I’m gonna need a bit of time, but I like you. So we can- can we be friends?”

“Rose Tyler,” Jane started, the soft tone in her voice making Rose look up. Her heart stumbled in her chest as she took in Jane’s sparkling eyes and the wide smile on her lips. “There’s nothing else I’d rather be.”

Grinning, Jane threw her arms around Rose and Rose hugged her back, laughing. They stayed like that for a long moment, far longer than usual for ‘just friends’, Rose thought while her heart skipped a beat. She enjoyed the closeness, Jane’s warm body pressed against hers, her breath on her neck, Jane’s scent in her nose. She wanted to stay like that forever, but then Jane reluctantly pulled back.

“I’ll see you then,” Jane finally said, her cheeks flushed, and turned to leave.

“Not if I see you first,” Rose replied, giving her a tongue-touched grin. Jane walked away, a bounce in her steps, and flashed Rose one last smile over her shoulder before heading down the stairs.

#ficandchips #femandchips #fem!Doctor x Rose #fem!Doctor #my fic #fic: who we are #posting this in the afternoon #because I'm doing home office today *cough*

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