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#so yes we will unpack that but not today thanks. its not illegal to want to chew on murderous femboys yet
widevibratobitch · 30 days
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ripping this moment to shreds with my teeth
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Love and Medicine ~ 4
MASTERLIST
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< previous chapter
Word Count: 4,700ish
Summary: Your new roommates annoy you and Steve presses your buttons. 
(I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.)
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Val, Scott, and Clint had been living at your place for almost two days, when you woke up to Val standing at the foot of your bed. 
“Aaah!” You exclaimed, jumping slightly.
“Clint’s room is bigger than mine,” Val complained. You got out of bed, quickly tripping as Val continued, “I have more clothes, I should have the bigger room.”
You let out a groan as you picked yourself up off the floor and headed out of your room. Only to be met with Clint as well.
“I got here first,” Clint stated.
“It’s Y/N’s house, she should decide,” Val said. You continued down the hall, heading downstairs to the kitchen.
“My room is like, two inches bigger than yours!”
“You have a bigger closet!”
“So? Why is everything always a competition? I think that you can put your clothes somewhere else!”
“Everywhere else is filled with Y/N’s parent’s boxes.”
“Y/N? What are you going to do with all this stuff anyway?” You entered the kitchen to see that Scott had made breakfast. “Because maybe we can put some of the boxes in storage.”
“Or we could unpack a few things,” Scott suggested, handing you a plate of food and a cup of coffee. “Make this place a little more homey. Maybe some throw pillows and lamps, a few paintings.”
“Oh, paintings would be nice.”
“A quiet morning before work would be nice,” you muttered into your coffee, having sat down at the table.
“Yeah!” Val agreed with Clint and Scott. “You have all this amazing stuff just packed away. In the back hall, I found this box with like a hundred tapes of someone performing these amazing medical procedures.”
“Really?” Scott questioned. “We should watch them. Y/N, do you want to—“ You got up from the table, quickly leaving with your coffee in hand. “Wait, where are you going?” Your roomies followed you.
“Y/N,” Clint called. “We’re just trying to help. We could unpack for you.”
“Yeah,” Val added. “You wouldn’t have to do—“ You slammed your bedroom door in their faces.
“Y/N?” Clint whispered. “Do you want some privacy?”
You sighed as you slumped against the door. You were beginning to regret this whole roommate thing.
~~~
When you interns arrived at the hospital later that morning, you were immediately told to head to the pit (the ER). You were all helping each other suit up (gowns, gloves, etc.) while you talked.
“Fools on bikes killing themselves,” Gamora grumbled. “Natural selection is what it is.”
“So what’s up with Gamora?” Peter questioned quietly. “Is she off her meds?”
“You’ve never heard of the race?” Clint asked. Peter shook his head. “Every year this bar—“
“—The HYDRA Bar—“ you cut in.
“Yeah. Every year, they hold this underground bike race.”
“The race is completely illegal,” Scott added. “And—“
“Crazy,” you interrupted. “A bunch of bike messengers racing against traffic trying to beat each other for free shots of tequila.”
“All-out, no holds barred competition,” Peter said, “sounds like fun.”
“Yeah,” Val scoffed. “You would think that.”
“The race doesn’t even have any rules,” Clint added. “Except eye gouging—no eye gouging.”
“Oh great,” Natasha murmured. “We're going to be trapped in the Pit bandaging up idiots when we could be up in the OR?”
“What kind of people engage in a race that has, as its only rule, that you can't rip out the eyeballs of another human being?” Scott wondered.
“Men, Scottie,” Peter responded. “Men.”
“I need someone to get up to the OR floor,” Gamora stated loudly. “The Chief needs a right hand.” You all shot up your hands. “Clint.” 
“Yes!” Clint exclaimed, rushing away.
“Okay people, the rules of trauma. Don't mingle with the ER interns, they don't know their ass from their esophagus. Sew fast, discharge fast, take bodies up to the OR yesterday. Don't let me catch you fighting over patients. Got it? Come on, let's go.”
You interns rushed into the ER, seeing injured bikers everywhere.
“Oh, it’s like candy,” Natasha commented. “But with blood, which is so much better.”
Val and Natasha quickly started bickering about a biker that was just wheeled in. You looked around, trying to find an interesting case to jump on to.
“Ooh,” you said after seeing a guy with nails in his side. “I’ll take that guy.”
“No, you’ll have to beat me to him first,” Peter responded. You both ran to him, getting there at the same time. Peter pulled the curtain closed between them and the patient. “Heads he’s mine, tails he’s yours.” He fished out a coin from his pocket.
“Why do you get to be heads?”
“Because I have a head, and you are tail.”
“Excuse me! How do you make everything dirty?” Peter flipped it. “Ha. Tails. There are plenty of other cases.”
“So go get one. I was here first.”
“I am not backing down so I can do sutures all day while you're up in the OR. This is a surgical case, and you know it.”
“It's superficial. I mean, it's cool, but it's superficial.”
“How do you know those things didn't rupture his peritoneum?”
“Because he's sitting up, and he's sitting there talking to us!”
The patient pulled the curtain back. “Allo,” he said with an accent. “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could take these out, and sew me up, so I can go and win my race?”
“Well, we can’t just pull them out,” you told him. “I mean, we ought to—“ Peter quickly started ripping the nails out of the mans side. “—do some tests—“
“Oh, wicked.” The man smiled with a nod, grimacing a little with each pull.
“Are you out of your mind?!”
“it’s a superficial wound,” Peter said, handing the nails over to you. “Sew him up, and let him finish his race.” Peter walked away.
“You—you— ugh!”
“Good man,” the patient commented.
“Just, don’t move while I go get something to sew that up.”
“Of course, darlin’.”
You huffed in annoyance as you left to grab a suture kit. Coming back, you realized that the patient had been watching you the whole time, clearly checking you out. Which only made you more annoyed. Not that the guy wasn’t attractive, you just started the day feeling annoyed. You led him to a trauma room and cleaned the wound before beginning to sew it up.
“The name’s Hunter, by the way,” the patient stated.
“Hunter?” You repeated as you tried to concentrate on what you were doing. “Okay.”
“Hey! Don’t diss!”
“Not dissing, just concentrating.”
“Ah, you got a nice touch,” Hunter commented as you pulled another stitch. “And by the way, you are a rocking babe.”
“Seriously, do you actually think you have a shot here?”
“I like to think I've got a shot everywhere.”
“Look, you really have to let me take you for some tests, and a CT. You could have internal bleeding.”
“No thank you. I’ve got a race to get back to.”
You finished up the last stitch and stood up so that you could be face to face with him. “Why? You can't win now anyway.”
“Doesn't mean I can't cross that finish line. There's a party at the finish line. Do you want to meet me there?”
“One test. A CT. I'll have you out of here in an hour.”
“Can't do it, gotta go.”
“Okay, well, you realize that you're leaving against medical advice and I strongly urge you to stay.”
“The frat guy said I could go.”
“The frat guy is an ass. Okay, well, you have to sign an AMA form.” You reached behind you and grabbed a clipboard with the form.
“Darlin', I will do anything you want me to.”
“What is it with you guys and your need to dirty everything up?”
“I don't know. Maybe it's just testosterone, eh?”
“Maybe. You might want to see a doctor about that, too.”
“Come here.” He took the form, quickly signing it. “There.”
He handed the form back before getting up. Hunter took a few steps towards the door before spinning around. He grabbed you and kissed you.
“That was for good luck,” he whispered, walking away backwards. “Don’t worry, darlin’, you’ll see me again.” He left the room.
“For your sake, I hope not!” You called after him.
Shaking your head, you began to strip the bed. You couldn’t help the feeling though, that you were being watched. Looking up, you saw Steve standing outside the door. 
“What do you want?” You asked as Steve entered the room.
“You make out with patients now?”
You looked up at him with a small smirk. “What are you jealous?”
“I don’t get jealous.”
“We had sex, once.”
“And we kissed, in an elevator.”
“And we kissed in an elevator, once!”
“No, seriously, I mean come on, go out with me.”
“No.”
“You know, I almost died today.” You gave him a questioning look. “Yeah, I came like this close.” He gestured with his hands, a small gap between his finger and thumb. “How would you feel if I died? And you didn’t get a chance to go out with me?”
You rolled your eyes. “Get over yourself already.” You headed for the door.
“Come on.” Steve followed you.
You spun around. “It’s the chase, isn't it?”
“What?”
“The thrill of the chase. I've been wondering to myself, why are you so hell bent on getting me to go out with you? You know you're my boss, you know it's against the rules, you know I keep saying no. It's the chase.”
“Well, it’s fun. Isn’t it?”
“Yes see?” You waved a finger at him. “This is a game to you. But not to me. Because unlike you, I still have something to prove.”
You took your leave, hurrying to find another patient in need.
~~~
You were walking past a patient room when you heard Val call your name.
“Y/N!” You rushed in. “He’s crashing.”
“Well, what the hell are you doing?” You asked her. “Call code!”
“I can’t. I’m not supposed to, he’s brain dead.”
“Well Val, if he’s brain dead, you have to let him go.”
“No. It's only been five hours and thirty-three minutes, he's supposed to get six hours.”
“Well, we can't do anything to make him live, it's not our place to make that call.”
“He's a person, we're doctors, we should have every right to make that call. We can't just stand here and do nothing while he dies. He has a right to the next twenty-seven minutes.”
“Screw it. I’ll get the dopamine, you get the blood. We’ll transfuse him.”
You and Val worked together to save the guy, with Natasha coming in to help. After you got him stable, you and Val decided to take a walk.
“He’s stable,” you stated, walking up the stairs.
“For now,” Natasha said, coming down the stairs. “I had a radiologist look at his chest, apparently he has a traumatic aortic injury. He's going to rupture and bleed out.”
“So he needs surgery,” Val said.
“If he's going to remain a viable organ donor, yeah.”
“If he's going to live.”
“Val…”
“No! I’m not giving up on him. He has the surgery, he lives longer, that's the point. So I'm going to help find the family, you guys find a way to get him into surgery.” Val continued up the stairs.
“She’s vice-president of fantasyland.”
“So who do we go to?” You asked. “Gamora?”
“No, we need to go higher than Gamora.” Nat and you followed Val up the stairs.
You came to the conclusion that you needed to talk to Banner. You found him entering the men’s restroom.
“Let’s just wait until he’s done,” you suggested.
“No,” Natasha said. “Just open the door and talk to him.”
“Are you for real?” Natasha and Val pushed you into the door. “Dr. Banner?” You nervously called into the mens bathroom.
“Hello?!” Banner exclaimed.
“Okay…” you quickly closed the door. “Yeah… nope.”
Natasha pushed you aside and opened the door. “Dr. Banner, I know you’re busy, but our John Doe needs an aortic repair.”
“The guy from this morning?” Banner questioned, still doing his business. “Isn’t he legally dead?”
“Well, yeah, he's kinda still around? We gave him two units PRBCs and put him on pressers.”
“On whose orders?”
Natasha shut the door, giving you a look before forcing you to open it.
“Mine,” you squeaked.
“You gave a brain-dead John Doe a blood transfusion without consulting anyone. And now you want me to repair his heart.”
“Well, yes,” Natasha replied.
“You do enjoy crossing the line, don’t you?” Banner moved to wash his hands.
“He is an excellent candidate for organ donation,” you added.
“I am a surgeon. I save lives. This guy is already dead. Now, this is the men's room. Either whip one out or close the door.”
With a sigh, you closed the door and started walking away. As you did so, you got an idea.
“I think I’m going to regret this,” you mumbled. “I have an idea. Just… I’ll page you after I find an answer.”
You quickly left in search of Steve. You found him in a hallway and pulled him aside. You explained the situation, with him actively listening.
“You're asking my advice?” Steve questioned.
“Yes,” you responded with a nod.
“Now who’s chasing?” He teased.
“Not funny. This is important.”
“Okay. You want to get around Banner? You gotta find a way to get the Chief involved.”
“Okay—”
“And agree to go out with me?”
“Nope. Not happening.” You turned around.
“You’ll cave, eventually!” He called after you. “I’ll get her.”
~~~
At lunch, you, Val, and Natasha ran into Clint. He was in the middle of eating a sandwich when the three of you came up to him, standing in a line, staring.
“What’d I do?” He asked, food in his mouth.
“How close a match for the liver is your guy to our John Doe?” Val asked.
“Very.” Clint swallowed. “Same type, same size. UNOS couldn't find a better match, why?”
“And he's the Chief's VIP, right?” You asked.
“Right.”
“How much would you kill to be in on a transplant surgery?” Natasha asked.
“You underestimate me. I'm not a baby, I'm your colleague. You don't have to manipulate me, if you want something, all you have to do is ask.”
“We want you to go over Banner's head to the chief,” Val said.
“Ask me something easier.”
~~~
With a bit of persuasion, Clint finally caved in. Val, Natasha, and you watched from down the hallway Clint stop the Chief.
“Sir?” Clint called.
“Barton,” Fury turned around. “How’s Jackson?”
“Fine. Sir, actually, that's what I want to talk to you about. I-I kind of think that— we— uh, me, and the other interns, we think— we’re— we're not—“
“Barton, I’m not getting any younger.”
“We found Jackson a liver.”
“We are so going to hell,” you muttered. “Banner’s sending us straight to hell.”
“On an express train,” Val added.
“If it works,” Natasha said.
Peter came up to them. “What are you doing?” He asked.
“Nothing,” the three of you responded in unison. 
Peter noticed that you were watching Clint and Fury. So he began watching too. Banner walked past but Fury quickly stopped him, adding him to the conversation.
“Yes,” Val grinned.
Fury left soon after, leaving Banner to give Clint a questioning look. Clint immediately followed after Fury. Banner turned to look at the rest of you.
“Oh, crap,” Natasha muttered.
You three hurried away, leaving Peter. Peter quickly went after Banner.
“Dr. Banner! Dr. Banner!”
~~~
You found out through the OR board that Peter had been chosen to assist Dr. Banner in the surgery. You and Natasha were extremely irritated. You all sat up in the gallery, watching the surgery.
“I seriously hate that guy,” Natasha said.
“Peter is vermin,” you added in agreement. “That surgery is ours.”
“At least Banner is doing the surgery. I don't care about Peter,” Val said. “Clint? You did good.”
“I'm going to have to dodge Banner for the rest of my career,” Clint said, shaking his head. “He could kill me and make it look like an accident.”
“Now that would make an interesting Dateline,” Scott said.
“Really, Scott?” You questioned, trying to suppress a laugh. “That’s the first thing you go to?”
“Hey! You can’t deny that you wouldn’t watch it.”
~~~
After the surgery, it was time to go home. You had just changed out of your scrubs and were grabbing a few things from your locker when Peter waltzed in.
“Oh, I smell good,” he commented. “You know what it is?” He turned to you. “It’s the smell of open heart surgery.” He breathed in deeply. “It's awesome. It is awesome. You gotta smell me.” He came up behind you, leaning into you.
“I don’t want to smell you,” you retorted.
“Oh, yes you do.” He nuzzled into your hair.
You quickly spun around and grabbed him, pushing him against the lockers by his shirt. “You have got to be kidding me! Okay. I have more important things to deal with than you. I have roommates, and boy problems, and family problems.” Peter yawned, glancing around. “You want to act like a little frat boy bitch, that's fine. You want to take credit for your saves, and everybody else's? That's fine too. Just stay out of my face.” As Steve opened the door, you grabbed Peter by the chin, making him look at you. “And for the record, you smell like crap.”
You turn, finally seeing Steve. You go back to your locker. Steve motioned as if to say, what happened?”
“She attacked me,” Peter said, pointing at you.
You spun back around to really attack him.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Steve rushed over, grabbing your arms and pushing you back. He turned to Peter. “You know, you might want to leave. Before I change my mind and let her beat you to a pulp with her tiny ineffectual fists.”
He let go of you to push Peter out the door. As Steve closed the door, Peter pulled a face at you, how mature. Steve sighed. You studied him, getting more stupid feelings for him by the second.
“What?” Steve wondered.
“Nothing,” you shook your head, turning to pull your jacket out of your locker. “It’s just…” You gave him another long look, him nodding encouragingly. “Nothing.”
You closed your locker and made your way to the door. Steve opened it for you. You looked at him again for a few seconds before striding away. He looked up at the ceiling with a sigh.
“I’m telling you, Rogers,” Stark commented as he leaned against the wall across from the door. “Not a good idea.”
“How the hell are you around every damn time?!” Steve exclaimed.
Tony laughed. “Honestly, I think I may have a gift for sensing everyone else’s stupid decisions but my own.”
“Well, can you stop sensing mine?!”
“Sorry, Steve. You’re the only one making stupid decisions currently."
~~~
All you wanted was your bed. And a quiet house. When you got home, Val, Clint, and Scott were already there. They were in the living room, sitting on the floor while going through a box of tapes.
“Ooh, this one is skin grafting!” Val said, pulling out a tape.
“Skin grafting? No way!” Scott responded, taking the tape from her. “I've never seen that done before.”
“Are those my parent’s surgical tapes?” You asked, bring there attention to you.
“We should watch the skin grafting one first,” Clint said.
You looked around the room. There were pieces of furniture and art that you had sworn were packed up this morning.
“Where did all this stuff come from?” You questioned.
“Oh, I unpacked some of the boxes,” Val replied. “I was upset, and when I'm upset I like to nest.”
“Same,” Clint and Scott added. You began taking down pictures.
“Oooh!” Val quickly grabbed another top. “Hemipelvectomy.”
“Let’s definitely watch that one first,” Scott said.
“No. No. We’re not watching my parent’s surgery tapes,” you quickly ripped the tapes from their hands, “we’re not unpacking boxes,” you motioned to the boxes around the room, “and we’re not having long conversations where we celebrate the moments of our lives!” You slammed the tapes on the coffee table. You grabbed the beer bottle that sat on the table and slammed it onto a coaster. “And use a damn coaster!” You turned to leave.
“I ordered Chinese food…”
You marched up the stairs. “I hate Chinese food!”
Here’s the thing… both of your parents were widely renowned surgeons. But they both died in a terrible accident almost a year ago. After that happened, you quickly changed your last name to one of your Grandmother’s maiden names. You didn’t want all the attention. You had already gotten so much through med school and have the accident, you didn’t want anymore.
~~~
You were grateful that your roommates didn’t bother you the rest of the night. And when it came time for work in the morning, you made sure to leave without them. You met up with Natasha in front of the hospital and walked in together.
“They're everywhere. All the time. Scott's all perky, and Clint does this thing where he's helpful and considerate, and Val just, I don’t know is Val!” You complained. “They share food and they say things and they move things, and they breathe.” You let out a little whimper. “They're like happy.”
“Kick them out,” Natasha responded.
“I can't kick them out. They just moved in. I asked them to move in.”
"So what, you're just going to repress everything into some deep dark twisted place until one day you snap and kill them?”
“Yep, basically.”
“This is why we are friends.”
Peter jogged up as they entered the hospital.
“Why is Gamora making us stay in the Pit two days in a row?” He asked.
“Leftovers,” you replied.
“Leftovers?”
“Gotta get the cyclists who were too drunk or too stupid or too scared to get themselves to a hospital yesterday.”
“While meanwhile, she gets to do a freakin' organ harvest.” He motioned to Natasha.
“Oh, that kills you, doesn’t it?” She smirked.
“What?”
“That two women got the harvest.” You three stopped in front of the elevator.
“No, it kills me that anyone got the harvest but me. Boobs do not factor into this equation. Unless you want to show me yours.”
You and Natasha exchanged looks. “I’m going to become a lesbian,” you stated.
“Me too,” Natasha responded.
~~~
You and Peter tried to civilly work near each other in the Pit. As you filed away some patient paperwork, you glanced over at the waiting room. You did a double take after seeing your patient from yesterday, Hunter, waiting.
“What’s Hunter doing here?” You asked.
Peter glanced up at the waiting room before going back to what he was working on. “Probably crashed his bike,” he answered. “Again.”
“How long has he been waiting?”
"Don't know, I'm busy on real cases. He's all yours.”
You walked over to him. “Hunter? Hunter?” You noticed that he was holding his side, the injured side, as you came closer. He didn’t look at you as he started to cough. “Are you okay?” He tried to get up and you ran the rest of the way to him. Hunter fell, unconscious as blood came from his mouth. “Hunter!”
You got down next to him, lifting up his shirt. The stitches you did yesterday were ripped open and the area around them had swelled up. You quickly called for help, other nurses and doctors quickly came with a gurney. They helped lift Hunter on with you jumping on to sit on top of him. You tried to hold his wound closed as you turned at talked to a nurse.
“Call up to the OR and tell them we’re coming,” you ordered. “And page Dr. Gamora.”
“Right away,” the nurse replied, rushing off.
You noticed Peter staring at Hunter, a bit stunned. “Peter! Push the dam gurney.”
Peter quickly rushed into action.
“Clear the way!” The nurse with the two of you called. “Coming through!”
“Somebody get the elevator!” Peter yelled.
“Hurry,” you said. “I don't know how long I can keep this wound closed.”
The gurney is pushed into the elevator. You watched as the doors seem to slowly close. You and Peter watch as the level numbers light up.
“Move faster, damn it,” you muttered.
Finally, the doors reopened and the gurney was quickly taken into the OR.
“Well, this is a new one,” Gamora commented, ready and waiting in the OR. “Somebody get her off my patient.” A nurse helped you climb down. “Y/N, go get cleaned up and scrub in, Peter, get back downstairs.”
“Yeah, but I helped,” Peter defended.
“Helped! They tell me down in the Pit that you only want to take the hot cases. In every pack of interns there's always one fool that's running around trying to show off, and Peter, this time that fool is you. Get out.” 
With an angry sigh, he left the OR. You quickly left after, going to clean up and scrub in.
~~~
After the surgery, you and Gamora were informed that Viper had friends waiting in the lobby for him. You two went out to talk to them.
“This lovely group's his friends. Uh, you all belong to—“ Gamora looked at you. “What’s his name?”
“Hunter” you answered.
“Hunter?”
“Yeah,” a man replied. “We were in the race.”
“How is he?” A woman stepped up. “Is he okay?”
“Is he okay?” Gamora repeated. “No. No, he is not okay, at all. He hurled his body down a concrete mountain at full speed for no good reason. Yeah, I know you all pierce yourselves and smoke up and generally treat your bodies like your grungy asses can't break down to A, you want to kill yourselves, flying down a concrete mountain, go to it, but there are other people walking, people driving, people trying live their lives on that concrete mountain, and one of them got his brains scrambled today because one of you little sniffling no-good snot-rag—“
“Doctor Gamora—“ you tried to stop her.
“Yeah, yeah so no, your friend Hunter, as far as I'm concerned, is not okay.” Gamora stalked off.
“She's, um, really tired, but, uh, Hunter's going to make it,” you said. “He’s gonna live.”
A chorus of “cools” and “thanks” were heard from he group. You stood there, awkwardly nodding for a few seconds too long before hurrying away.
~~~
At the end of the day, Steve found you in the locker room, alone. He came in, shutting the door behind him.
“It’s not the chase,” Steve stated, catching your attention.
“What?”
“You and me. It is not the thrill of the chase. It's not a game. It’s... it's your tiny ineffectual fists. And your hair.”
“My hair?”
“Smells good. And you're very, very bossy. Keeps me in line.”
“I’m still not going out with you.”
Steve smirked, opening the door back up. “You say that now.” 
He leaned over and kissed your cheek, then he left. That man was for sure going to be the death of you. You could feel it.
~~~
When you arrived home, Val, Scott, Natasha, and Clint were in the living room, eating pizza, drinking, and watching a surgical tape.
"Okay, this is the best part, watch, this is where they pulls a block of skin down over the face,” Val said. 
You cleared your throat. “Hi,” you said as they looked at you.
“We were— uh, we were just,” Scott stuttered.
“Natasha made us!” Clint quickly said.
“What are we watching?” You asked, coming into the room more. “Ooh.” You sat down and took some pizza. “This is the one where my mother—“
“Literally pulls this guy’s face off!” Val interrupted.
“Yeah.”
You nodded, looking around at your friends. There might be a small chance that you could get used to this.
next chapter >
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ggukkiedae · 3 years
Text
❝𝕀𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕠𝕡❞
𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:
⇢ Episodes 1-2
𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:
⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. requests and feedback are highly appreciated!
⇢ script form (name: lines) are the interviews
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EPISODE 1
she’s sitting in between namjoon and hoseok, legs curled to her chest
she mostly stayed quiet while resting her head on namjoon’s shoulder
after talking about jimin’s hanbok, they turned to yoonmi
“miya-ssi, you want to experiment with making makeup, yes?” “that is correct” “we’ll have the materials and ingredients you need ready in a box there. the projector and projector screen you asked for will be there as well”
she clapped excitedly and thanked the staff
“i get to watch movies with mimi!” “we all do, jungkook” “me first though”
when it came to the hobbies that they wanted to try together, she raised her hand
“pdnim, is it okay if we have more of everything so we can all try out each other’s interests?” “actually, that’s a good idea”
and so she managed to get the staff to broaden their list of things to buy
before they stopped, yoonmi sat up, kicking her legs out in front of her and making hoseok jump in surprise
“can we have a trampoline? like one of those circle ones with a net?” “we’ll have that ready” “yay! okay, thank you, pdnim!”
miya: school just let out, so it felt like a summer vacation with family. i feel like we got to just let loose, and i loved it
when it came to filling the cars, she gave jungkook her 2 small luggages and her guitar, keeping her backpack, her puppy plushie, and her hamster plushie on her
she helps loading with a pout “i wanted to drive my motorcycle, but i can’t because we’re gonna be on the freeway”
namjoon patted her head and opened the door for her to go in the car
she settled in the back just as jungkook made his way into the driver’s seat
“you gonna sleep the whole ride, mimi?” “only if you don’t teach me to drive today” “... have a good sleep”
namjoon chuckled at the two and buckled his seatbelt, reminding the maknaes to do the same
she put on sunglasses and was somehow able to fold her whole body so she was curled up in her seat
“why does it sound like our guitars are breaking?” “i got them”
after fixing the guitars, she settles back into the seat and goes silent so jungkook just asks namjoon if she’s sleeping
namjoon pats her knee, and she doesn’t move “she is. i’m not surprised. she stayed up all night again”
and she somehow stays asleep despite the members both in the car with her and through the walkie talkies being talkative
you can see jungkook constantly looking in the rearview mirror to check if yoonmi’s doing okay
“aigoo, she’s already an adult, but she still looks this small?” “don’t tell her you said that, jungkookie”
she wakes up when they’re driving by the water and namjoon just “have a nice sleep, yoon-ah?” “yes, oppa”
they get off in the place they were going to stay, and she’s just walking around with two fairly big plushies in her arms
they’re walking on the field and yoonmi sees the trampoline, its net open for her to enter
“oppa, hold this,” she handed her plushies to taehyung and ran to the trampolines
the other members just stopped to watch her fondly while she did a few back tucks and aerials in the trampoline
“yoonmi-ah, you just woke up, you might get hurt” seokjin called her back and she just giggled and slipped her shoes on again and ran back to them to check out the house
she placed her plushies on the piano to have free arms
she explores the moving cameras with jungkook, eyes wide “wahhh this is so strange but so cool”
she’s skipping around, distracted to the point where yoongi had to hold her hand to keep her from straying from everyone
yoongi leads her to the tarp where she decided to just lie down on the grass nearby making yoongi chuckle while seokjin had her stand up because she was wearing a white shirt
she made her way to the hammock and wrapped herself up in there “oppas, i’ll be here if you need me”
she takes out her phone and taps a few things before paradise starts playing “mmm this is a good relaxation song”
she hears seokjin and namjoon trash talking each other after a few minutes and looks up briefly “oh, ping pong? looks like it’s about to get competitive”
she laughs to herself and puts her head back down
you don’t hear from her again until jungkook finished cooking the ramen
he walked over to the hammock and picked her up “no skipping lunch” “but i was listening to musiiiiic”
he dumps her on the chair next to yoongi and she’s just sulking while grabbing a bowl and chopsticks to get food
hoseok laughed at her actions “cute”
namjoon and seokjin bickering about pingpong while they ate and she laughs “i knew they’d get like this”
jungkook took her away to the boat house where he took out his guitar
“where’s mine?” “with all the other stuff”
she kinda just lies down on the side and stares at the ceiling while jungkook played, occasionally suggesting chords that she think would sound well with his progression
“oppa” “mm?” “should i go help sort the groceries out?” “did you sleep last night?” “... i took one second naps every ten seconds”
cue jungkook rolling his eyes and throwing her plaid shirt (which she had removed earlier) over her face “sleep, not blink”
the next cut you see of her is jungkook putting a blanket over her legs before leaving to join the other boys
when jungkook’s calling around for everyone, taehyung asks him where she is and jungkook points to the boathouse
taehyung goes in and lightly taps her side “aegi, time to go to the main house”
she nods and taehyung puts an arm around her while they walk back together
buuuut the door is locked and the other members call for a password
“lajibolala?” taehyung asked yoonmi just tilts her head “is it not rock bison?”
they let them in, and she settles into taehyung’s side
“can i sleep in the boathouse?” “okaaaaay me, yoonmi, and jungkook in the boat house!”
she grins and picks up her plushies and heads off to unpack her stuff
EPISODE 2
seokjin pops in on her after his disappointing fishing session and he sees her on her laptop, midi on right next to it
only one of her carriers were open, and seokjin could tell it was to get her blanket which currently sat across her lap
she had her headphones on and she was already working on a track
miya: i don’t know, maybe it was instinct to start working on something? i was working on something the whole night, and i guess that momentum kinda just came back *laughs* jinnie oppa stopped me though
seokjin shakes his head and squishes her cheeks together
“princess, leave that for when you’re actually bored, and start unpacking. look, you even left toph and koda on top of your bags” “okay, okay, oppa”
she saved her progress and smiled at seokjin when he handed her the two plushies
there’s a mini compilation of her setting up her stuff and unpacking with seokjin’s help
after a few clips, you see her in more comfortable clothes and walking out while braiding her hair into pigtails to see yoongi and seokjin fishing
she giggles when yoongi gets in the boat “oppa, what are you doing?” “what? it’s not like it’s illegal”
when seokjin and yoongi are on the boat, she moves to her room and pulls a book out of her backpack
the subtitles read “the most peaceful member so far” while she settles on her stomach and opens the book
jungkook checks in on her after a while “i’m gonna go fish. you good here? oh, she’s reading she can’t hear me”
sure enough she didn’t move one bit
after what looks like ⅓ of the book, she glances up “oh, a portable blender! i should make banana milk”
she goes off to the kitchen to grab some ingredients. her nose scrunches when she sees seokjin handling a fish, then she grabs some milk, bananas, cinnamon, honey, and a knife to take back to her room
she silently hums an (at the time) unfamiliar melody while cutting up the bananas and putting them into the jug
miya: i feel like you’re going to be bored with me the whole show *laughs* i live pretty quietly. so far, all i’ve done is sleep, eat, make music, read, and make banana milk. i don’t know what you’re expecting, but nothing much really happens when i’m on break
“okay, two bananas, a cup and a half of milk, and a random amount of honey and cinnamon because measuring is a construct let’s go”
she puts the lid on then screws the jug in place, pressing down on it and blending until it seemed right to her
she smiles when she’s done and gathers all her trash into a bag
she switches the lid of the jug to one without blades then brings everything but the port to the kitchen in the upper house
“did you make banana milk again? can i taste?”
jungkook comes over and takes the trash from her while talking
she opens the jug and holds it for him to take a sip before she covers it again and puts it in the fridge
“oppa,” she approached yoongi, “do you need help with dinner?” “did you rest today?” “yes” “then go ahead and cut up the vegetables i laid out over there, and be careful, princess”
eventually she ends up setting the table outside while jungkook walked behind her and played with a frog
she’s laughing at him while setting down plates “the frog is trying to have some peace”
she’s tucked between jimin and hoseok for dinner, and jimin’s just constantly adding food to her bowl
hoseok’s off to the side sneakily pouring her a shot of soju and she just giggles and takes it in thanks
she laughed along with the stories, mostly exchanging glances with jungkook
miya: the oppas were all bringing up old memories, and it was fun. i forgot we were filming. i’m usually quiet during meals, but i think i laughed a lot more on our first night than i usually do. *laughs* ggukoo oppa and i made eye contact and i’m pretty sure we remembered the same thing, but that’s a secret
she had settled in her bed pretty soon, phone on as if she were messaging someone. she made eye contact with the camera and smiled “good night”
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thatlongspringnight · 7 years
Text
I’ve Made a Mistake (Ch.2)
still here everyone! The second chapter. We did not forget about y’all or this life-giving college AU. Hope you like it! @tokugawalady and I are, as always, so happy that anyone indulges us and reads this. <3 
Chapter One
I’ll go on ahead and tag some people I know read the first one. @frywen-babbles
@jemchew @held-hostage-and-happy @singokumaiden @cottonballwithmustache
“I expect you to water the plants and to feed Ichigo daily.” Ieyasu’s deceptively sweet voice had more than faded away, leaving a sharp tone that kept MC on edge. “Don’t go poking your noise around in places you don’t belong.” MC nodded, biting her lip thoughtfully. Right, she could do that.
“If you do that, you should stay alive just fine, at least in theory.” He was sneering at her and suddenly she remembered the look of terror that had been on Toramatsu’s face when he had been talking to her.
Yeah she was screwed.
But hell, it was a nice apartment. Spacious, two bedrooms, two bathrooms. A decent kitchen and living room space. Her room even had a walk in closet! It was a dream for her rent price. The only drawback was her new roommate.
She shivered thinking about the cramped studio apartment she had been kicked out of not twenty-four hours ago.
If living here meant participating in some illegal activities and keeping plants and pets alive, she figured she could do it.
“Of course I expect you to be clean and to be quiet. I’m sure that even someone of your mental capacity could realize that we can’t have people poking their noses around here.” MC nodded, idly jotting his rules down onto a notepad. She’d heard tales of his capacity for cruelty and was doing her best to avoid confrontation.
Not to mention she felt like if she drew too much attention to herself the cops would be here at the drop of a hat.
MC would not do well in jail.
“Anything else?” She asked, trailing her eyes up his form, resting them on his angelic face. How could someone so physically perfect have such a shit attitude?
“You may not invite people over. The nature of my work demands some degree of secrecy. Which to dumb down for you, means you can’t just have all of your friends over.” You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes.
“Yes sir.”
“That is all I have for now, don’t expect it to be the end. Someone like you is bound to break some rule.”  He turned on his heels, leaving you to admire his form.
You took a deep breath.
Time to unpack.
“MC, I really think you should at least let me check out the place I mean, you are a young single woman and he-“
“Inuchiyo, I appreciate your concern but you are not coming over. I have already moved all of my stuff in. I have already met Ieyasu. Its fine. I am fine.” MC kept her voice calm. She had been preparing for this.
“This witless manju is going to get herself killed. “a voice from across the room piped up. MC inwardly groaned. Mitsunari was never lacking in opinions. “I’ve never met a more aggravating base-born whore’s son than Tokugawa.” He was glaring daggers at both you and Inuchiyo. “Also, this is a damn library, show some respect and shut up.” His quiet hiss had you turning away. She couldn’t catch a break today.
“Look MC, all I’m saying is that you have options”
“Tokugawa isn’t a demon” MC huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m an adult, I can handle this. If I can’t handle it, I will leave. As adults are wont to do.” She grabbed her books, shoving them in her bag. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I actually have to study. “ She turned, stomping off.
Between Ieyasu and Inuchiyo she was going to end up living on the streets.
No, not today. She was more than willing to sacrifice her pride for that plush bed and lack of creepy manager.
The apartment complex was pretty empty when she got back. It was easier to study in the quiet of her new room than to try to justify herself to her friends. When she went to put her key in the door a voice stopped her.
“Hey are you sure you have the right place?” MC froze, stealing a glance over your shoulder. A tall, friendly looking man stood behind her with teal eyes as bright as a sunshine-filled day.
“Oh…U-Uh yeah. I am.” She turned to face him, offering out her hand. “I’m MC, a new tenant here.”
“Sanada Yukimura, I’m your upstairs neighbor.” He blushed as soon as her hand touched his. Endearing.
“Nice to meet you Yukimura!” She smiled, a bit forced. MC did not need any extra or outside attention at this point…she just needed to get inside.
“You’re staying here, at this place? I thought they already had two tenants?” He was still looking at you with that concerned face. Why?
MC had a feeling she knew why. She had a feeling that the reason behind his concerned face was a certain blonde haired man that she was now living with.
“Yeah, one of them moved out, so um, now I am here.” She gestured at the door.
“Oh, so you and Toramatsu?” The boy was blushing again, clearing getting the wrong idea.
“Er…no. Toramatsu’s moved out. I’m staying with Ieyasu.” The blush faded quickly on Yukimura’s face, replaced with a determined look.
“Are you sure about that?
“Positive.”  MC’s tone was growing more irritable by the moment.  She did not have the time…
“Just be careful, if you need me I’m upstairs.” Yukimura grabbed her arm, holding MC’s eyes with his own. “Seriously. Any time, I’ll come help.”
“T-Thanks?” She gently tugged her arm away and turned back to the door. “Really I appreciate it. I’ll see you around, okay?” MC fiddled with the keys as she heard him walk away. Once she was sure he had left, she opened the door, sliding inside.
“This is all too much.” She mumbled to herself before looking around. “Better do my chores so I don’t get kicked out.”
The plants came with strict instructions on water amounts, MC couldn’t help but laugh at the details.
Ieyasu was definitely a pharmacy major. His attention to detail and numerics was evident.  
Once that was done she turned her attentions to the rabbit.
Ichigo was a pretty bunny. Soft and brown. She chirruped when MC went to feed her the fresh veggies Ieyasu had designated.
“He really does spoil you huh?” MC trailed a finger across her soft fur, rewarded with a very pleased bunny.
Ichigo wasn’t scary at all.
“I wonder why everyone is so afraid of you, hmm? You’re a sweet little thing.”
Elsewhere in the town, Toramatsu woke up from a nap in a cold sweat, a nightmare of that damned rabbit playing in his head over and over again.
He turned over, covering his face with a pillow. Maybe one day he could rest.
That day just wasn’t today.
After doing her chores, MC set about to making dinner. Tempura and noodles. Something easy. She made sure to make extra for Ieyasu. Maybe he’d want food?
By the time he got back to the apartment she had cleaned and done most everything he had asked her to do.
And she was tired.
But she’d done it.
He stepped into the kitchen, barely sending a glance her way, grabbing a container of lettuce from the fridge.
“U-um.” MC stuttered only briefly. “I made dinner, if you want some.” He paused, a frown on his face.
“This filth is what you call dinner?” He pointed at the plate she had made for him. “I wouldn’t eat that slop if they were paying me to. What do I look like, some unhealthy stereotype like your friends?” Whatever she had done had really set him off because he wasn’t close to done. “I’m trying to actually live past 30,  in order to do that I decided not to indulge in that unhealthy nonsense are trying to pass off as food.”
Oh jeez.
MC shook her head, trying to hide the dejected look on her face as he continued to fuss. He went so far as to throw her leftovers away. No no. MC chanted in her mind, she was strong. She was not affected by this childish behavior.
He must just be hungry. That was why he was angry all the time, he didn’t have the right vitamins.
She looked away from him, standing and stepping out of the room, failing to notice the surprise on his face as she walked out.
She just needed to sleep.
“Toramatsu,” MC’s singsong voice was unnerving on the other end of the phone. Toramatsu sighed. He had been waiting for this call. In the background the sound of Yasamusa’s yelling drowned out most of the fear that he had of MC. It wasn’t like he had upgraded by moving out of his apartment.
“Yes?”
“I just want you to know, that I understand why you did what you did.” Still sickly sweet. He wondered if she had taken lessons from Ieyasu in the last three days.
“O-Okay.”
“But I’ll remember.”
And then she hung up.
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smartgirlsaremean · 7 years
Text
My Heart’s in the Highlands - Chapter 2
Fandoms: OUAT, Hamish Macbeth
Pairing: Bellish
Rating: T
Summary: With Rumplestiltskin gone, Belle can’t face going back to the Enchanted Forest without him. She leaves Storybrooke forever, travels the world, and ends up in a small village in Scotland, where she meets a constable with a very familiar face.
AO3
Chapter 2: The Twilight Home Past
“I swear, I didnae do anything,” Hamish Macbeth hissed as TV John hovered over the still form of the stranger lying on the sofa of the police station. “I offered to help her with her tire and she just...” He fluttered his hands to indicate that she’d fainted dead away.
That was a novel experience. He knew he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes - took no small amount of pride in how well he wore his uniform, in fact - but he’d never had a woman swoon on him before. It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Women could be damned heavy when they fainted, and of course he’d had to catch her; couldn’t have her braining herself on the pavement. He scratched at the back of his neck and tried to ignore the way TV John’s lips were twitching, choosing instead to focus on his unwitting houseguest. Doc Brown was on his way and hopefully they could revive her but until then...
She was pretty. And that wasn’t really something he should be thinking about an unconscious stranger in his police station, but there was really no way not to think it because she was. Heart-shaped face, creamy ivory skin, rioting dark curls, full cherry lips - he hadn’t got a good look at her eyes before they rolled up in her head but he had the impression they were blue. And she was tiny. Half a head shorter than him and light as a feather to boot.
Doc nearly whistled at his first sight of their visitor. “Holy hell, Hamish, what did you do? Knock her out with a club and drag her here?”
Well. He knew he had a reputation as something of a dog, but that was uncalled for. “‘Course not,” he snapped. “just make sure she’s okay, will you?”
The doctor had scarcely finished his brief examination when the woman’s eyelids fluttered and she breathed in a deep gasp. She flinched away from the doctor, who immediately backed away to prove he was no threat, and she locked eyes with Hamish again. He swallowed hard. Yes, blue - an unreal, translucent blue-green that rivaled the sea at its most breathtaking.
She muttered something under her breath and shook her head a little, never breaking eye contact. Her staring was beginning to unnerve him, so he glanced away and pretended to be fascinated by the typewriter on the desk. He could tell she’d gotten his hint when Doc introduced himself and she answered, her voice that low Australian alto he’d remembered from an hour ago.
“Do you know your name, m’dear?” Doc asked, and Hamish felt it was safe to look back.
“Belle French,” she said shakily. One hand rose to smooth her hair while the other was captured in Doc’s grip as he checked her pulse.
“Date of birth?”
“August 28, 1990.”
“Mother’s name?”
“Colette Johnson French.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“No, but that’s not...I mean, I left Inverness this morning and I - well, I didn’t really have a plan, so…”
“So you were just...driving for the hell of it?” Hamish asked, ready now to risk her piercing gaze again.
She glanced at him but, thank God, didn’t resume staring. “Yeah. I just wanted to see what was down this road. If it got late before I found a place I was going to sleep in the car.”
“Well, you don’t seem to have a concussion,” Doc Brown said. “Just take it easy tomorrow, eh?”
Belle nodded.
“Thanks, Doc, I’ve got it from here,” Hamish said brusquely. Doc nodded reluctantly and turned to go, squeezing Belle’s hand in encouragement.
“All right, Miss French,” he said when Doc was out of sight. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really goin’ on here?”
“Just what I said,” Miss French said calmly, pulling herself into a seated position and combing her fingers through her hair. “I’ve been on a sort of - pilgrimage, I guess? - a trip, anyway, around the world, for the last two years or so. This is just my latest stop.”
“And what exactly are you running from?”
“I’m not running from anything. I’d always meant to see the world, and when the opportunity arose, I took it.”
“How did that opportunity arise, if you don’ mind me askin’?”
“I do mind, as a matter of fact,” Miss French snipped. “It’s none of your business. Now since I’m not dying or under arrest, could you point me in the direction of my personal effects and then the nearest hotel?”
“I didnae say you weren’t under arrest.”
“What could you possibly arrest me for?”
“Illegally parked vehicle. Assaulting a police officer.”
Miss French’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t assault you.”
“Me back remembers it differently.”
“Next time you’re welcome to let me fall.”
He grinned. “You plan on swoonin’ on me again? That’s downright flatterin’.”
Miss French huffed, but he thought he saw a flicker of a smile on her lips. “My things?”
Hamish jerked a thumb towards the table and she rose, looking carefully over her purse and its contents before nodding at him. TV John offered to take her to the Lochdubh Hotel and set her up for the night, and then she was gone with nary another word or glance his way.
“Hamish means well,” TV John told Belle as he walked her to the hotel. “We dinnae get mony visitors here, that's all. Certainly none as found us themselves.”
“Driving or walking on any road that caught my fancy is how I had some of my most memorable adventures,” Belle said. 
“Well, I hope this road doesn’t disappoint.”
Belle was introduced to Barney and Agnes, the couple who ran the hotel, and shown up to her room. It was clean and spacious, if extremely dated, and Belle unpacked her things into the dresser drawer. This leg of her journey had begun to feel like the last, but she wasn’t sure what she’d do when she decided to settle down. Boston hadn’t agreed with her, and she had a feeling that she’d like New York (where the newly minted Cassidys had ended up last she’d spoken with them) even less. She loved visiting in cities, but she’d always been a provincial girl. Avonlea had been, as Rumple described it on his only visit there, a “little town,” and she’d been completely charmed by Storybrooke. Thankfully the world was full of little towns and villas into which she could disappear and quietly live out her days.
Belle French’s education included a degree in library science. Perhaps she could be a small-town librarian or bookshop owner. The thought of spending her days surrounded by the written word filled her with joy as nothing had in the last two years. Her head spinning with ideas and plans, Belle fell asleep quickly despite the sounds of the restaurant/pub below.
The next morning found her rested and ready to explore the hamlet she’d found herself in. Today would be a day for the streets and shops, tomorrow for hiking, and then, probably, she’d be on her way.  Two years of travel had seen a significant change in her wardrobe. Gone were the short skirts and floaty dresses and flirty heels she’d been fond of in Storybrooke (most of them anyway), replaced by sensible tops and shorts and cargo pants and boots and tennis shoes. A few dresses for nights out remained, but no one in Storybrooke would recognize her now. Sometimes she scarcely recognized herself.
The pub attached to the hotel served breakfast, she’d been told, so she shouldered her messenger bag and headed out. This early in the morning the pub was hardly a hub of activity, but there were a few people at booths. With a little flutter of nerves she noticed that the constable - the one who so resembled Rumple - was there with TV John and the doctor who’d examined her last night. They were all nursing mugs of coffee, but when the doctor saw her he leapt to his feet and was before her in an instant.
“Miss French! How are you feelin’ today?”
“Much better, Doctor, thank you,” she smiled as she shook his hand.
“Well, you certainly look better. Less peaky. Here for breakfast?”
“Yes, I…”
“Och, you must sit with us, come on.” He hadn’t released her hand and began fairly pulling her to the booth.
“Oh, but…”
“No arguin’, Miss French, I willnae hear of it.”
“Belle, please,” Belle sighed as she was gently shoved into the booth across from the constable and TV John. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever called me Miss French.”
“Belle,” the doctor said almost triumphantly. “A bonnie name.” The constable snorted and Doc Brown glared at him. “Well, it is,” he said defensively.
“Ay course it is, divit,” the constable said with a crooked grin. “That's what ‘Belle’ means. Beauty.”
“Ah, bugger off, Hamish,” the doctor grumbled, puffing his pipe madly.
They were interrupted by Barney, who brought her breakfast, and Belle tucked into her meal with enthusiasm. She looked up after about ten minutes of silent eating to see that all three men were staring at her avidly.
“Sorry...do I have egg on my face or something?”
“No, no,” PC Macbeth said. “Has it been a few weeks since you had a decent meal, then?”
She narrowed her eyes. “No. And I don’t appreciate being stared at like an exhibit in a zoo.”
TV John cleared his throat and stood. “Sorry, lass. Hamish, I’ll be at the station.”
“Aye.” The constable’s eyes didn’t waver from hers.
The doctor, his eyebrows raised, glanced between her and the constable. “And I, ah, probably have a patient tae see somewhere.”
“See you later, doc.”
Belle raised her eyebrows and met his stare, forcing herself to notice differences between him and Rumple. He was younger, for one thing, but then everyone in this world was younger than him. His hair was shorter, his eyes less haunted (though not entirely serene, interestingly enough) and his bearing was different. However much he resembled Rumple, he was very obviously not the same man.
She shouldn’t be surprised that she was attracted to him - she’d always been drawn to Rumplestiltskin and this man could be his twin - but she was surprised nonetheless. She hadn’t felt attracted to anyone since she’d left Storybrooke, and had not unreasonably assumed that she wouldn’t again. True Love didn’t come along every day, and it certainly didn’t die easily, and she didn’t think she was crazy to think her chance had come and gone.
Still, there he sat, his bottomless dark eyes boring into hers, his mouth quirking into a half smile, and her insides quivered ever so slightly. She recognized that look; she’d seen it on countless men who’d tried to pick her up in bars around the world. He knew he was handsome, and he capitalized on it. The only way to depress impertinence like his was to meet it with her own.
Adding a sparkle to her eyes, she speared a sausage with her fork and lifted it to her lips. Locking her gaze on his, she took a deliberate bite and smiled when his grin faded a little and his eyes widened.
He’d been wrong the night before, Hamish mused as Belle polished off her breakfast. She wasn’t pretty. Her baggy, comfortable traveling clothes and weary face had concealed the truth from him.
She was bloody gorgeous and nothing less. His mouth had run dry when she stepped into the pub, fresh as a daisy and sexy as hell with her fluttery knee-length skirt and long slim black-tight-clad legs. Every unattached man in this pub (and probably one or two of the married ones) was imagining those legs wrapped around various parts of his body, and she’d sat across from him. The fact that she didn’t seem to reciprocate his attraction didn’t bother him; she was just passing through, a pretty little tourist to admire, nothing more.
“You still have questions,” Belle said, scraping up the yolk of her eggs with her toast.
“Aye, if you’re open to hearin’ ‘em.” He rearranged the questions in his head, dragging the most policeman-like ones forward and the dog-like ones to the recesses of his brain.
“I’ll hear any questions you care to ask. I might not answer them, though.”
Hamish grinned. “Where’re you from, Belle?”
“Here and there.”
“That's no answer. It’s a simple question.”
“Not really, in my case.” Belle studied her glass of water with a strange expression. After a few moments she took a deep breath. “I was born in Australia, but I grew up in Maine. My father’s business took us there. I came into some money a few years ago and finally got to do what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Travel. See the world.”
“Alone?”
Her face clouded over, her eyes darkening and taking on a haunted look that suddenly made her seem decades older than she was. “No. That wasn’t the plan, but…” shrugging, “we do what we must, don’t we?”
“What’s on for today?” he asked after a few seconds.
“I thought I’d walk around town, visit the shops, see the beach. I don’t need a permit or anything for that, do I?”
“No, of course not.” Where the hell had that come from?
“You’re sure?”
“Aye, I’m sure.”
“Then I won’t need a police escort, will I?”
Hell. How had she known he was planning to show her around? He fidgeted in his seat. “No.”
“Great.” She rose and tossed a few quid on the table. “Then I’ll wish you a good morning, P.C. Macbeth.”
Lochdubh was many times smaller than Storybrooke. It only had the one main street, and there were very few shops along it. Before lunch she was fairly sure she’d met all the principal inhabitants and seen all the important sights in the town itself. Rory the grocer had shown her around his store and convinced her to buy a few of his apparently famous crumpets; Esme, one of the schoolteachers, had given her a tour of the school and invited her to sit in on a Gaelic lesson; Lachlan McCrae, in town selling some of his wares, had waxed eloquent about his farm and various business ventures. She was now nearing the end of the street, enjoying the brisk breeze from the harbor and scrutinizing the mountains. Tomorrow she’d pack a lunch and a dinner and spend the whole day up there, losing herself in nature.
A building near the end of the street caught her eye; while most of the buildings on the street stood in need of a few repairs, they were all open and busy, but this building had boards on the windows and a chain on the doors. Curious, she walked closer and tried to discern what it once had been. The sign above the door was faded, but when she was directly before the building she could read it.
Lochdubh Public Library
Some emotion she couldn’t define surged through her, compressing her lungs and choking her. Images of another library, boarded and abandoned, swam in her head and she clutched at her elbows, pulling her arms around her body. “We may sit in our library and yet may be in all quarters of the earth,” she whispered. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she bit her lip hard. “Rumple…”
Magic was hard to come by in this land, but destiny knew no boundaries. Libraries were how she grounded herself, how she knew she was home and safe and loved. She’d felt that connection in Avonlea, she’d felt it at the Dark Castle, she’d felt it in Storybrooke, and she felt it now, growing and spreading and digging deep into the pavement at her feet as if rooting her there. Scotland had already felt like home, and now there was a library in need of love. She’d always known that since she couldn’t return to Storybrooke, she would need a home somewhere, and if the tugging at her heart and the heaviness in her legs didn’t signify that she was home, she didn’t know what would.
Cautiously she approached the doors and peered through the cracks between the boards. With no curse to keep everything pristine, she could see dust gathered on everything. Several of the shelves were missing books. It would be no small task to clean and arrange it all, and she would need to expand the collection, but…
“I hope you’re not thinkin’ of goin’ in there.”
Macbeth had found her. She kept her back to him. “I thought you said I didn’t need an escort.”
“You don’t, but I thought you might like a tour guide.” He grinned as he came up beside her, but the expression dropped when he caught a glimpse of her face. “Is summat wrong?”
Belle turned her head and wiped at her face. “I’m fine.”
“Och, aye, many a lass I’ve found weepin’ her eyes out over an abandoned library.”
“How long has it been closed?” Belle asked, ignoring his huff of frustration.
“Six months or so. Mrs. Coffey died and no one in town’s got the background tae take over.”
Belle hummed, studying the facade. “Would it be worthwhile to reopen?”
“Eh?”
“Has the town missed having a library? Would it do well if it opened again?”
“I, eh, really couldnae say. I suppose so. Folk around here aren' great readers, but they’ve been known tae crack a book frae time tae time.” He chuckled. “Why, d’you need a job?”
Belle shrugged. “I am a librarian, and it’s not as if I have anything else to do or anywhere specific to be.”
Macbeth was silent for several seconds. “So you’d - what - open it for a month or two and hand it off?” She turned to look at him and raised her eyebrows. “You cannae mean you want to stay here.”
Rolling her eyes, Belle turned back to the library. “I never tire of hearing someone tell me what I want.”
Macbeth huffed. “You must have somewhere tae go. People you miss.”
“I really don’t.”
“Now, why dinnae I believe that?” Macbeth stepped closer to her.
“Because you’re an arse?” Belle snapped, her temper rising.
“Or maybe because you’re still not telling me the truth.”
Her temper spiked and her vision went red. “What do you want me to say?” Belle rounded on him, and he backed away a step, his eyes widening. “What will get you off my back? Do you want to hear that I have no family or friends anxiously awaiting my return? That I have no place to call home?”
“I - “
“Or maybe you want me to tell you all about how I watched my - the man I loved die. That I was powerless to stop it - that I wasn’t even able to hold him or tell him I loved him as he faded away. That I couldn’t go home because I just couldn’t face life there without him.”
His face had gone pale and he looked as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t determine what.
“Have I told you enough, P.C. Macbeth?” she asked, ice in every syllable.
“Aye, lass. You have.”
Her words had run out, and she walked away, struggling to calm her heart and slow her breathing. In two years she had never - not once - even hinted at what had driven her around the world, not to kindly boarding-house owners or sympathetic bartenders or friendly fellow travelers. The memories seemed at once too precious and too terrible to share with another soul. In this land without magic, how could she explain what Rumple had been to her, how empty and frightening the world had seemed without him, how powerless she was to do anything but run and never return?
She was tired of running, of never having a fixed home, of doing odd jobs to pay for her next plane or train ticket - and of dipping into the dwindling funds the sale of the antiques had provided. She wanted to feel useful again, and the library needed her.
Belle nodded to herself as she climbed the stairs to her room. She would canvass the locals and determine if the library were a valued resource; if it was, she would know what to do next.
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