tell us about your beloved agent 3 on their first night back from the metro!

SOBS,, YEAH I CAN DO THAT i owe you my life now actually

some important context on the actual happenings to start because that puts most of it into perspective i think

my personal take on the octo expansion happens over the course of around two months, give or take

before first getting dragged underground, Ollie (my 3) is only 15 years old

she's relatively extroverted and, due to a somewhat rocky upbringing, very much thrives on attention and/or approval from those around her and will seek it to a fault

unfortunately she also gets to spend the duration of the expansion entirely isolated and alone

she's very competent, and dedicated, and good at her job, but this is not her job. her job is taking down enemies and clearing obstacles and generally all the problems she'll encounter can be solved by shooting and/or hitting them really hard. this is being stranded alone in an entirely foreign place without any prior preparation, cut off from the outside world and anyone she was previously with, and being left to fend for herself. for WEEKS. which is not something she's prepared nor equipped for, emotionally or physically

and she doesn't take it well! who would! it's just a long, painful clusterfuck of scrabbling around in the dark, and though she does eventually get access to video feeds of the facility after stealing getting her hands on the employee CQ-80, for a vast majority of the time down there she isn't even sure if the others are alive- and even when she does find out, she can't so much as contact them, leaving her just as alone as ever. needless to say, despite her home life not exactly being fantastic either, all she really wants for the duration is to get out and go home and surely, then, everything will go back to normal just like that

but then there's the distress signal, then the blender, and the Telephone Goo happens, and it's all a bit of a big uncomfortable blur from that point, but the long and short of it is that she gets out. and everything is the same- nothing much has gone on in the time she's been gone, with other squidbeak members (mostly Indie/4) picking up the slack when necessary, keeping things reasonably peaceful. so naturally, of course, this means everything is Totally Fine and everyone just gets to pick up where they left off with no repercussions whatsoever and also 8 is there now i guess thats a thing :)

except no! it's not even half that easy! because while ollie is already very good at covering up when anything is wrong- she can just about hold it together in front of everyone else, at least, if a little jittery- it's super easy to tell she's had a terrible time. she's covered in dirt and soot, scratched up all over the place, dripping green goop and glowing to name but a few things, and then there's also the significant brainfog and partial blindness caused by the goop to contend with (both of which clear up with a bit of time, but her eyesight doesn't ever completely recover). all of which only rams it home that no, just getting back to the surface isn't magically fixing any of her problems, she's got long-term shit to unpack whether she likes it or not! and then to top it all off she's got to go home to an empty house and stew alone with her thoughts yet again with that increasingly hopeless knowledge in mind. not to mention it's the first time she actually gets to see the extent of what she's been through, let alone start to process it. hence the first night especially being.. like that

ollie's time in the metro and the immediate aftermath are responsible for some of the biggest turning points in her character/arc, and things do get significantly better for her following all this, but the first few days or even weeks are... difficult. in between trying and failing to navigate her emotions and trauma by herself, attempting to figure out where she stands with Eight and how to address everything that happened down there, and running away from home but actually for real this time (long story but lets be real. it was a long time coming), she ends up with her hands way more full than she'd like. with time and a lot of patience on everybody's part, though, maybe she can have a little accepting there's people that legitimately care about her and letting them share the burden. as a treat :)

Daybreak | Part One

Part Two 

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: A number for a name & a supernatural ability. A subject escaped from Hawkins Lab, and Steve Harrington finds her in the darkness of night.

Word Count: 2,600+

Warning(s): Cussing, mentions of mild injury/blood.

A/N: This is part one of my series :-). I’m not really sure if this is a pure reader insert since the character is without a true name (Hawkins lab style), but I left physical descriptions that may isolate some readers out so self-insertion can still ensue! This would probably be considered a slow-burn, so enjoy! More chapters to come. Oh & leave me some feedback! (;

The pattering of a girl’s bare feet against rough pavement; a sound covered by the intense rainstorm the evening participated in. Perhaps this was to work to her advantage, the chaos of a storm much smaller than her own raging circumstance still enough to provide a helping hand in a getaway unplanned for. She carried herself quickly. Her medical gown was inadequate against the weather, now sticking to her body thick with rainwater. Despite its insufficient aid in covering her body, if she were given a different article of clothing in this moment, she would choose shoes. Her foot came in contact with something unpleasant - an item unidentifiable, perhaps a jagged rock - and she stumbled in one abrupt motion to the ground. Her hands were met with dirt, wet and stubborn to leave her palms. She did not let herself stay down long. A minute unmoving is a minute closer to danger.

Removing herself from the floor, she took a few strides forward, not fully finding her balance until step number four or five. The woods ahead of her began to thin, but she continued ahead, not taking time to consider where she might redirect herself when the concealment of the trees was taken away from her. Back out of the treeline now, her feet met pavement again on another road. She stopped momentarily at this sensation, realizing she had to select a direction to continue with her breakout. She squinted to her right, eyes traveling a ways down the road before turning her head to consider her left. She was but a second into her visual examination of her second option before realizing how little time she was truly given to make a choice. Headlights made her inspection of her left side much less bearable, causing great pain to her eyes in the dark of night.

A sound now loud enough to be heard over the storm: the screeching of car tires. The vehicle identifiable by its relentless headlights. Her eyes had closed instinctively at the sight of the yellow glare, but opened to find the car stopped a mere four or so feet in front of herself. Panic that had been drilled into her state of mind the second she began her escape only heightened. Momentarily she believed the vehicle to belong to those she was running from, but soon realized it was much shorter in height. It was not a towering van, but a car simple in size. Still blinking in a struggle against the lights, her eyes snapped to the owner of the automobile who stepped out from inside the car with a swift swinging of the door.

“Hey, are you okay? What are you doing?” the figure questioned her, shouting loudly over the aggression of the rain.

She did not answer him, unable to move but only wishing she could do so.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, taking one step forward. This subtraction of space between them only had the alarms in her head blaring louder. She took a step backwards to compensate for his advancement. “I- I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he told her. Maybe it was delusion, or just pure exhaustion and desire for her runaway to end, but she did not move this time when he took another step in her direction. Taking this as a good sign, and perhaps becoming a little too confident, he walked a few more paces to meet the girl. She flinched, but still could not bring herself to run. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. Are you hurt? What are you doing out here?”

He was met with no response, only the frightened stare of the person he had almost flattened into the concrete.

“Do you need help?”. He was finally awarded a reply. Subtle and shaky, she nodded a ‘yes’ to him.

---

She plopped down in the passenger seat of his car, almost as heavily as she had fallen earlier. Wanting not to block the road any longer, he began driving again, giving her quick glances every few seconds as she worked on regaining her breath. “Where are you coming from? Is- is that a hospital dress? Do you need me to take you back to the hospital?” He spewed out questions, his own head spinning with thoughts of uncertainty and hysteria. She stopped him with his last one. “No.”.

He breathed out heavily. “O-okay,” He stopped, unsure of how to continue with the conversation. “So why the hell are you in the middle of the road during a thunderstorm and why do you look like you just escaped hell and roped me into giving you a ride back home?” He was panicked, but not angry. His loud tone, despite this lack of rage behind it, still frightened her. Flinching again, she eyed him for a silent moment. Her lack of a reply gave him time to realize his overwhelming approach to communication. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to scare you. I just have no idea who you are or where I’m supposed to take you,” he told her with a volume indicating more composure. “I don’t have a home,” she responded to his earlier comment.

“What- what does that mean? You don’t have a home? Where are you coming from?” This question was too invasive for her. She didn’t answer. “Look, my parents aren’t home. I can take you back to my place, but I have zero idea what I am supposed to do in this situation,” he said, stuttering over a few of his words. “Okay,” she spoke.

---

By the hour they arrived back at his house and the rain had lightened up a small amount. He walked her to the front door, fumbling with his keys while shaking away water that dripped from his hair into his eyes. The lock finally permitted entry, and he forcibly pushed the door open with his shoulder. She followed him inside, dripping rain all over the hardwood floor. The entry rug provided little protection to the flooring, and he didn’t bother with wiping his shoes before stepping off of it. He tossed his keys, and they met the dining table with a loud clack. A few drops of blood followed the same path as the dripping water, landing on the floor as they slowly exited a cut on her leg, most likely from her tumble in the woods. “Okay do you-” he turned to face her again. “Do you want a towel? I can uh, get you some real clothes too.” She nodded her head, abandoning speech again. “Okay, yeah,” he said with a little more confidence. “Uh, you just stay here for a minute, okay?” Another nod.

He returned within three minutes, two of which were used to dig through his own clothing for the smallest size he had. He handed her a t-shirt with the words Hawkins High School on it, a P.E. shirt he still had from his freshman year. Also given to her was a pair of shorts, sure to wear baggy on her but the best he was able to do. “You can change in the bathroom,” he told her. “There are clean towels in there too.”. He pointed to a small room with the door slightly ajar. She held eye contact with him for a moment, unsure of herself with every action, but took his direction and walked to the bathroom to rid herself of the battered medical gown.

She emerged a few minutes later, dressed in clothing too large yet still more suitable than before. He stood in the kitchen, and she made her way over to him from her place in the bathroom doorway. “Thank you,” she spoke to him for the first time in the past thirty minutes. He looked up to meet her eye. “Uh, yeah. Are you hungry? We don’t have much but I can make you a sandwich or something,” he said. She took a few more steps in his direction, still inherently hesitant but wanting to be trusting. “Sure,” she said.

He took out a loaf of bread and began rummaging through the pantry in search of something to put on the slices of wheat. His hand grabbed for a jar of peanut butter and he started building a sandwich for the girl who sat at the counter, watching him. He presented her with the finished meal, sliding a glass of water to her hands as well. “Thank you,” she said again. “No problem”.

The sandwich had been cut in two, straight down the middle as a mother would do for a child's lunch. It was a moment of strange consideration on his part. She tore it with her hands, eating the food slowly in between heavy gulps of water. “I’m Steve,” he said. She looked up at him as he sat across from her, giving him a look hinting of slight puzzlement. “That’s- that’s my name,” he stuttered when he realized she looked unsure of what to make of his conversation. “What’s your name?” he asked.

She set down the glass once filled with water, now only containing a few ice cubes. “I don’t know,” she said. Another answer that characterized her bizarre to newly named Steve. “You don’t know? What do you mean?” he said. She turned over her arm rather than trying to communicate through words. She decided she was not good at speech. A marking caught his eye, and he read the numbers ‘009’ that laid vertically along her wrist. “Nine? The number nine? What, is that supposed to be your name? That’s a number.” He spoke as if it were common sense, which understandably it was. “It’s the only thing I’ve been called,” she told him.

“Okay, I really need to know where the hell you came from because I am very confused,” he admitted. Her eyebrows slid closer to one another as a look of perplexity, slight displeasure, and wavering sadness displayed across her expression. A few moments of silence fell with great weight between them. “I escaped the lab,” she told him, leaving him without explanation as to what or where that was. “The lab? Like a science lab?”

“No. A place with dangerous people,” she said.

She watched as his face evolved, circling through many emotions before latching onto one that left her with a strong sense of dread. He started with a look of confusion, but swapped it for a face that wore a smile. She furrowed her eyebrows again, unpleased with his reaction. A disoriented chuckle acted as his response to her. “Okay, no. No, no no no no,” he said. He had reached his limit of strange happenings for the night. “Okay, what the fuck. I’m done. Who put you up to this? Was it one of my friends?”. He spoke to her in a way he hadn’t done until now, and his lack of sincerity left the girl feeling bitter. “Shit, you were good. Are you like, an actress?” He paused momentarily, expecting an answer but not hesitant to continue on when she didn’t give him one. If she had been acting all night, it was his time to perform. “This was an insane prank, you got me. I will give you that.” He now stood from his place in the chair across from her, backing up to lean against the counter behind him. He still wore that same stupid smile, one ignorant of the situation he was really in. It wasn’t suitable, and the longer it stayed on his face the more anger the girl in front of him felt.

“Why are you mad?” he asked, picking up on her very readable non-verbal cues. “You can stop now. I figured it out. Yeah sure it took me a while, but I get it,” he said with an unknowing laugh. He was moving with exaggerated motions, waving his arms as if he were trying to signal for a taxi. To her, he looked like an idiot. It was his next action that was his biggest mistake. He reached his arm out in front of him, fingers moving towards a cut on her forehead. It had been added to her injuries at some point during her flee, and a small smear of blood was left on her skin from recent bleeding. “Did you really get fake blood-” he started as he moved to touch her face.

A swift tilt of her head in an upward motion, only moving her chin higher one inch than it had been previously. His fingertips did not make it to her skin, as his body was thrown with abandon until his back came in contact with the wall behind him. This movement, movement initiated without telling his body to do so, scared Steve greatly. The loud thud of his body hitting the wall sounded more damaging than it actually was, as he was left in panic rather than pain. He stuttered over his words for the second time that night. “Wha- woah whah what the fuck. What the fuck was that?! What did you just do to me?”.

With this outburst on his part, a feeling arose in 009. It was a feeling she did not take comfort in, one that told her she was a monster. Everyone who bore witness to her ability thus far has reacted the same way initially: Horror. Animosity. Revulsion. She did not like to utilize this power she had obtained in someway unknown. It made her eligible to be weaponized. She did not take pride in this gift she had been told that she should.

“Don’t touch me,” she said sternly.

“Okay, okay,” he said, throwing two hands up above his head in a sign of compliance. She did not like this movement either, it was a common sight presented to her. A signal that oftentimes followed fear. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she repeated back to him the sentence he had used with her earlier. He eyed her apprehensively. “I don’t want to,” she said. He looked at her, his eyes drifting between her two, reading her face to the best of his ability. Returning to where he was, he repositioned his chair from where it had been knocked backwards with his sudden, careless movements. “It’s not a… ‘prank’”. The last word of her sentence spit unfamiliar to her, but she knew from his behavior that it’s meaning did not fit her circumstance. “Okay,” he told her, “I’m sorry”.

His apology was genuine, but left them with silence neither of them knew how to break. “So,” Steve started, lightly dragging out the single word. “You.. escaped. This lab was what, holding you hostage?” She paused, never having thought to define what her position there was. Hostage sounded fitting. “I lived there, against my will. The people, they were trying to use me,” she told him. “Use you because of your throwing-people-against-the-wall powers?” he asked, clearly referencing what had happened to him maybe a minute ago. She nodded once more, a small amount of relief soothing her at his evolved understanding. “Jesus Christ, so I am now harboring a fugitive with telekinetic abilities, cool.” The tone used with his speech erupted further feelings of dejection within 009. Now she was the one scared of the person in front of her. “I can’t go back,” she piped up, her voice evidently unsettled. He drew his eyes back to her from elsewhere, “No, no, I won’t take you back. You can uh, you can stay here for now. My parents will be home tomorrow, so we have to stay upstairs. I’m not sure they’d be too thrilled with the situation we have going for us here so it’s probably best I don’t introduce you to them,” he finished his proposal. For the first time since they met, she offered him a small smile.   

hi!! i love your fics sm! so could you do steve x fem! reader where reader is steve’s best friend/ crush and when the byers+el moves( and billy passing away) reader starts taking care of max and nancy(even if they are the same age) like they starts having girls night, hanging more and one day steve and dustin goes to reader’s house and they see them having fun and steve’s like “maybe i should ask her on a date” and dustin’s like “maybe?? no YOU should” please please please! thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Girls’ Night

A/N: Day 7 of my 12 Days of Ficmas! I really loved this request, but I hadn’t had a chance to write it until now. Thank you to the sweet (and very kind) anon who requested it. I appreciate you more than you know.

Warnings: language, fluff, slight angst

After the Byers family moved away, taking with them both Nancy’s boyfriend and Max’s best friend, you knew the girls needed a little extra love. After all, Max and El had grown inseparable over the past year or so, and Nancy spent virtually all her time with Jonathan. For days after their other halves’ departure, both Max and Nancy moped around, the ever-present spring in their steps completely vanished. After about a week of that, you couldn’t take it anymore. You half-asked, half-demanded that they come to your house for a sleepover. One fun-filled girls’ night quickly turned into a weekly ritual.

Occasionally, your best friend, Steve, would drop by. Oftentimes, he brought his sidekick, Dustin, in tow. He didn’t seem to quite understand the premise of a girls’ night. But even though you gave him a hard time about it, you didn’t mind the party crashers-as long as they gave you a little bit of forewarning. You weren’t exactly pleased the night that your doorbell rang in the middle of a skincare session, and you had to answer the door looking like an alien in your pale green face mask. You were incredibly embarrassed, but Steve and Dustin couldn’t stop laughing. You had to admit, it was cute at first; rather quickly, it got old. Eventually, Max suggested that, since they found it so funny, maybe they should get facials, too. The boys spent the next hour lying still on the couch while you smothered a sticky homemade concoction over their skin.

After that night, Steve always made sure to call in advance. 

At least, he usually did. This particular night, however, it wasn’t until he and Dustin had arrived on your street that he realized that he’d forgotten. Steve parked the car on the side of the road and turned to his curly-haired little friend for advice. 

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how mad do you think Y/N will be if we show up unannounced?”

“I’d estimate around a -6,” Dustin answered, “on account of the fact that she’s in love with you.”

A small huff escaped Steve’s lips. “She is not,” he protested. “We’re just friends, Henderson. You know that.”

The smaller of the two boys rolled his eyes. “Yeah, just friends. But you both wish you were more.”

“God, Dustin, you get trick one girl into dating you, and suddenly you’re the love expert.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Steve. Suzie and I are coming up on our four-month anniversary soon, but you’re clearly the expert on relationships, since you’re practically married to the idea of being single and sad about it forever.”

“For god’s sake, Dustin, we’re just friends. Which is why I know she won’t murder me for crashing her sleepover again,” Steve said, popping open his car door and hopping out. Dustin followed suit. 

“I know for certain that at least one of those statements is incorrect,” Dustin stated as the pair made their way across the lawn. Their shoes squished over the soft mud on the ground. The younger boy noticed his friend begin to slow down as they neared the front porch and gave him a gentle shove to encourage him onward. 

As they neared the house, a faint humming grew louder and louder. Eventually, it evolved into a baseline and the voice of Cindy Lauper crooning “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” A thin set of curtains obscured the view into the living room, but Steve could still make out one three silhouettes. One, a slight figure that must have belonged to Nancy, sat on the floor, watching the other two spin in circles around the room. The taller of the two dancing shadows had something feathery draped across her shoulders-a boa, perhaps?-and the other wore some sort of fancy little tophat. All three girls’ giggles were loud enough to overpower the blaring music. Steve stood there, absolutely entranced, as your unmistakable silhouette twirled around behind the curtain.

“Maybe I should ask her on a date,” he murmured, barely aware of his own words. 

“Maybe? No, you should, dude! That’s what I’ve been saying all along!” Dustin half-yelled. 

That snapped Steve out of his hypnotized state. Panicked, he slapped a hand over Dustin’s big mouth. But the damage had already been done.

“Did you hear something?” a muffled voice asked from inside the house. The music ceased.

“Shit, should I get my dad’s gun? I don’t know how to work it, but you do, don’t you, Nance?” the boa-ed silhouette asked the seated girl.

“Oh, come on, guys. It was probably just a dog howling or something,” she answered.

“Some kind of dog that must have been,” the third girl said. Then, there were shuffling footsteps, a shadow growing larger, a tug at the curtain-and a freckled, judgemental face appearing behind the window. Her gaze flicked up and down the pair, still too stunned to move. “No dogs. Just a couple of dickheads,” she announced. Two more faces appeared above hers in the window moments later.

“Steve? Did you tell me you were planning on dropping by tonight? I don’t remember you saying anything about it,” you said, scrunching your brows together.

“Well…uh…not exactly, no,” he stammered. “Look I’m really sorry we scared you.”

“Yeah, I am, too. It would’ve been a shame if Nancy put a bullet through that pretty little forehead of yours, Harrington.”

Steve was too focused on the heart palpitations you induced by calling him “pretty” to acknowledge the death threat. Dustin, however, was no lovesick puppy (except when it came to Suzie-Poo, of course). To be perfectly honest, as sweet as you were, you scared him a little sometimes. So he tugged on Steve’s arm and tilted his head back toward the car.

“Maybe we should go, Steve. We don’t want to interrupt their night any more than we already have.”

The surprise in your eyes quickly morphed into a spark of realization, then a glimmer of mischief.

“Don’t go yet, boys. We were just about to start doing mani-pedis,” you said. “And I’m pretty sure your cuticles could use some work, Harrington.”

Steve, completely unaware of what any of that meant but excited to spend time with you, nodded eagerly, just as Dustin slammed his palm into his face.

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Love Error

milkandheonnie said:

I am probably too late (as always), but it's worth a shot: I dare you to write Woong in your Becoming Human world.

Pairing: Jeon Woong x reader

World: Becoming Human (read HERE)

Genre: robot au / fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 3051

You weren’t too worried about the complications of taking your work home with you. Sure, you had been debriefed before leaving the lab and it was no secret within the company that falling in love with your work could be a possibility.

After all, your team leader was complete proof of that. Leo had fallen in love with Yerin and fought through everything that separated them from having an organic connection, one that indicated love could exist between anyone.

Even between a robot and human.

But when it came to you, well, you had no interest in love. You were married, for lack of a better term, to your job and held no desire for anything further than that. What made your heart beat faster was watching artificial intelligence mature. When a circuit board you had spent hours on got fired up for the first run and it’s successful. As a computer scientist, you had a love for facts. For things you could see occur before you.

Feelings weren’t something you dabbled in, even when it came to your job.

“I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry about us,” you assured Leo as he hesitated in handing over the package that contained all the information about the Woong bot beside you. You took it from his hand and smiled. “I’m only going to be working on sharpening up his errors. Nothing more.”

“That’s what I said,” a voice interjected, smiling at you both before stopping beside her husband. Kissing Leo’s cheek, Yerin then giggled. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

You grinned, despite feeling confident that what had happened to them would never occur for you. “I’ll owe you if anything does!”

“Oh, make a list of rules, even so. You don’t know how long he’ll be staying for and…” Yerin turned to look at Leo in distaste as he regarded her with a dark look and then she sighed. “It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

“I expect a full report by the end of the week of how your testing pans out, Y/N. Shall we, my hard to please wife?”

“For that, you’ll be cooking dinner,” Yerin remarked as the couple waved you off and you listened to their banter with a warm smile before turning to the bot beside you.

Kboy Cyborgs had taken off years ago, though with the advances in robotics thanks to Leo’s near human-like emotions, they had truly changed the world. Kboys were everywhere and the first line of Kgirls was already in the testing phase. You had been working on them for some time now, so it was going to be far too easy to work with Woong over the week out of the office. He was already an established robot, though he had malfunctioned during staff training. Although he was still running online, and as you gestured for him to follow you to the underground parking lot, in which he did with ease, you had a lot to fix before he could go out and be in the world. It wouldn’t take you more than the week to fix and even though most people liked the idea of having a relaxing time away from the office, you were looking forward to this additional project.

Woong cleared his throat and caught your attention once you were both seated in your car. “So are we off to your house now, noona?”

“We are,” you confirmed as you navigated the evening traffic. It was odd to have a travel buddy when you normally drove home in silence. However, Woong was curious and asked many questions on the ride to your apartment.

Which didn’t stop once inside your home. “Wow, do you live here alone?”

“Yes, it’s just me.”

“Don’t you get bored? Do you own a cat? My sources indicate a lot of people who are live alone have feline companions. A dog, given your dedication to the lab, would be impractical.”

You stared at the robot and then sighed. “No, I don’t have a cat.”

“Are you allergic? Would you like one? I could search through adoption advertisements right now-”

“No, I’m fine without one, thank you Woong.”

His lips pulled together with a slight purse before he smiled and walked towards your bookshelf. “Wow, may I read these?”

“Sure.”

He then darted into your kitchen. “Should I make us some dinner? I have the appropriate functions installed to eat food. We can share our first meal together!”

You didn’t respond, feeling exhausted with how he flitted about your apartment so quickly. Was this why Yerin suggested rules? Had Leo been like this as well? You had a lot to decipher about this bot, but with how much he was chattering, you did the best thing to solve the issue. Swiftly, you reached for the button at the back of his neck, sending him off to sleep.

And then you took in a deep breath, relaxing into the silence that enveloped you.

You had no idea how anyone could live with a Kboy full time.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t leave Woong offline to get your work done. So, once you were sufficiently fed and ready to, you turned him back on, his eyes blinking rapidly as he processed new information. He gasped at you noisily which surprised you. “I was offline for three hours?! Why would you do that?”

“Okay, Woong. Let’s get some facts in place. You’re here for me to work on. Not to become my friend or anything like that-”

“But I would like to become friends with you,” he mentioned with a pout and you heaved a deep breath, trying not to focus on his expression. You felt a surge of guilt over his surprise at being shut off and it was the last thing you wished to entertain today.

You cleared your throat. “We will begin work on your processing error. I’m going to attach my laptop to you and if anything feels odd as I work, I need you to mention it immediately, okay?”

“Of course. I want to be functioning at the best I can because that means one day someone will want to be my friend.”

You tried not to play into his pettiness, ignoring the way he folded his arms across his chest. You didn’t know a lot about the living Woong, but so far your experience with the robot form was definitely more than you had expected. He seemed so polite and quiet in the introduction video you had watched earlier. Right now, he was very playful and easily offended. You wondered if there was an error in his programming there too. Then again, Kboys had evolved into becoming their own sentient beings. Base traits were installed from the idol modelling, but each bot had the ability to grow their intelligence.

This Woong perhaps was just like this naturally.

Thankfully, he was incredibly helpful during your initial testing. Whenever he found a circuit that ran too slowly or diverted, he let you know immediately. You had developed a solid working relationship already that you could appreciate. This remained the same over the next three days, and if it wasn’t for his efficiency whilst you worked – which you chose to do for the majority of your time together – you were certain you would have gone insane with all his endless chatter.

Unplugging your laptop on your fourth session, you smiled at him. “Thank you, Woong. That will be all for tonight.”

“Will you charge now?”

You smiled at the endearing term for sleep. Nodding, you got up and stretched your tired limbs. “I will be going to bed. Please, don’t make too much noise like last night. Perhaps you could read the books as you requested when you first came to stay.”

“Charge well, noona,” he said with the widest smile. You blinked, it was so genuine and you were confused at why you chest tightened. “I’ll promise to be silent.”

You awoke to a high pitched scream, jolting upright just in time for your bedroom door to be thrown open, Woong dashing into your room in terror.

You were completely distressed by everything that was happening, especially when the robot climbed up onto your bed and tried to hide behind you.

“What is going on?”

“Oh, noona! It’s GIANT!”

“What is?”

“The… the… oh my god, I can’t say it. But it’s so big and I was just sitting there reading my thirty-fourth book for the evening when it crawled my way and-” He let out an unintelligible whine, shuddering from head to toe.

You frowned. “A bug?”

“A BUG!”

“But Woong, you’re a robot. A bug shouldn’t scare you,” you explained, attempting to move him away from your pillows. You were too tired for this kind of interruption. Honestly, a bug?! A robot like Woong could kill it with ease. You knew you would have to report this behaviour to Leo, you weren’t aware of such a trait.

However, Woong refused to move off your bed. “I’m not going back out there.”

“Woong, I’m sleeping!”

“I’ll be quiet in here! Just don’t send me back out there to the bug!” he pleaded, and perhaps because you were too tired to remain awake for much longer, you waved him off, laying down again and rolling onto your side away from your work guest. Woong breathed out a relieved sigh and then laid down too. “Thank you for your acceptance.”

“I just want to sleep Woong, that’s all there is to it.”

And boy, did you sleep well. You had possibly the best sleep that you could remember. You were just the right temperature, not overly hot that you needed to kick off the blankets, and not too cold either. When you finally woke up, you didn’t quite want to get up. You were content.

It was during this moment you became aware of what was happening around you. Or, more specifically, what was on you. Opening your eyes quickly, you glanced down at the arm over your waist and felt a leg over yours. The firm chest that was imprinted in your back cradled your entire body and at first, you were surprised to find yourself so relaxed in the arms of the soundly sleeping robot.

And then you were frantic. “Woong!”

“What?” he mumbled, nestling in further. You gasped and slapped his arm off. “Why are you moving, I was comfortable.”

“You cannot sleep with me!” As soon as you were free to leap out of your bed, you did so, eyes wide when you found that Woong’s shirt had been removed. Darting your eyes to the ceiling, you attempted to calm yourself down. But your mind connected on a thought and you pointed at him incredulously. “Please tell me you didn’t infiltrate the old AI modes. You’re not in lover mode, are you?!”

“What is a lover mode? I was just charging. Besides, it was you who did it first. In the middle of the night, you turned around and snuggled into me saying I was the right temperature to cool you down and that you loved the sound of my system purring along.” Woong knelt upon your bed after fetching his shirt and threw it over his head. And then he smirked. “You even called me your cat. Are you adopting me, noona?”

“You’re making that up.”

He shifted closer. “Want to read my memory card?”

“No wonder Yerin warned me,” you breathed, shaking your head and then pointed to the door. “Out you go, it’s time for breakfast.

The humour fell from his expression, and instead, he looked concerned. “You’re coming right?”

“Why?”

“The bug, it might still be out there.”

“Oh good grief,” you chimed, heading for the door. Woong stepped in behind you, peering around you. After searching the entire space for the bug and coming up empty, Woong relaxed and started making you breakfast.

It was surprisingly a nice experience to share a meal with someone and it had become your favourite part of the day so far this week. You didn’t really talk, Woong was somewhat aware now of your prickly mannerisms, simply shooting you several smiles over the meal. You couldn’t help but feel comfortable around him by the time you were ready to work on his processing again.

Much like yesterday, you worked on his system directory and Woong helped you figure out the issues. You had already debugged three pathways and were working on the fourth when he yelped in pain.

“Are you okay?!”

“Ow, my neck!” he cried and you looked at the hand he had raised to cup it, gently reaching out to slip your hand to where it was. You gasped when you saw the bug there, darting your focus to Woong’s face. How had he felt the bite of the bug? Of course, being bloodless, the bug had just died upon contact, but it surprised you all the same.

“You, you really felt that?”

“What was it?”

“The bug, it bit you. It’s dead, don’t panic,” you added on as he went to move and he relaxed, frowning about his experience. You checked the area of his skin. “You even have a mark. How did that happen?”

“Well our skin is fired by circuits remember, it makes sense I would feel it if I can feel the touch of your hand on me as well,” he mentioned, his tone sounding thicker. You glanced down at him and away from where your hand resided, Woong looking up at you wholly. “I can feel you.”

Where it came from, even you were surprised. The words you had proclaimed to your team leader swirled around in your mind as your lips pressed to Woong’s, his own passionately moving against yours. Somehow, in the midst of the embrace, you found yourself pulled onto him, sitting in his lap as the kiss deepened. And just like the circuits you worked with day in and out, you felt a surge fire pathways throughout you. From your lips all the way to your toes, everything felt alive and open.

You were overwhelmed.

“I felt that the most,” he breathed when you pulled away, and you gasped, lifting your hand to your mouth in realisation. Woong smiled, tenderly pushing your hair behind an ear. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Remember what?”

“January seventh, twenty-nineteen.”

“That was my first day in the lab,” you replied immediately, brows knitting together. “How do you know that?”

“Because on your first day you made a mistake with a robot and cried about it.”

You stared back at him, the memory resurfacing. You had been given a simple task of placing a memory chip into a robot in your first assignment, accidentally hitting a main circuit in the process. You had been told to fix it before you went home and to learn all about why circuits were critical. That moment in time had led you to become the best at repairing circuits in the entire laboratory.

How did Woong know this though?

He smiled, gently rubbing your back. “It’s okay, mistakes happen and I’ll be fine. Just like right now, with the bug. I’m okay.”

His words felt familiar and you snapped your focus to his face. “It was you. I made the mistake with you.”

“I mean, it’s fair. I didn’t have this face back then. Or any face,” he replied, cringing at the memory. Then he smiled. “But I hoped you would remember me. You told me that I would be your favourite robot if I survived. And I have.”

“Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?” you wondered and Woong smiled. “You knew I wouldn’t let you come home with me?”

“For a closed off human, you’re pretty easy for me to read, Y/N. I think we’re meant to be.”

“Oh no,” you rebutted, shaking your head with a laugh. “I’m not about to go that far. It was one kiss.”

“We could have more,” he offered, leaning in closer. “I’ve always liked you, after all.”

You blinked rapidly, that thick tone was a curse and you were entrapped by it. Pushing Woong back, you laughed. “Easy.”

“Okay, so it’s too fast. I get it. Even though both times you’ve initiated everything, noona. Just remember that.” He laid back down and then pointed to your computer. A picture of complete innocence. You scoffed. “Aren’t we working right now?”

“What am I going to tell Leo on Monday?” you wondered aloud, heaving in a deep breath before leaning down to capture his lips again. After the kiss ended, Woong grinned up at you.

“Tell him there were more issues underlying the ones we knew of and that I need further testing.”

“Then he can do that in the lab.” Woong shook his head. “I only trust you inside my mind.”

“I don’t trust you getting inside of mine.”

“Why, are you afraid you might fall in love with me?” he mused, smiling up at you.

“Well, I did make a mistake with you in the past, and you’re still full of errors. I guess it is up to me to fix them.”

“One kiss at a time?” he suggested and you moved back to your laptop, working your way quickly through his memory bank to see your name clearly there from when his memory card was inserted. You smiled.

“Let’s just see how the rest of this week goes. I might want to trade you in for something better.”

“Hey!”

You glanced up, grinning wickedly. “Well, you opened my heart up to like more than just the circuits running inside of you. I should get a model that I find physically attractive.”

“Are you saying you… wow.”

You then wrote a code into his mind, logging it there permanently. It silenced Woong as he recognised it. “I have a love error?”

“Yep, my diagnosis is that your circuits are so messed up because of me. I’ll have to tell Leo, I’ve made an error that’s going to take a while to solve.”

Woong sat up and nodded. “And since you’re so good at figuring out how to work with my circuits, I’ll definitely make sure we share that same error by the time Monday comes around.”

_________________

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Dark Heart, Sequel (JuminxReader)

Author’s notes:

Ok… So I wrote this sequel so long ago… I don’t even know if you still remember my Dark Heart fanfiction xD

And this time it’s not edited by anyone, so I apologize for my poor grammar in advance :(

But either way I decided to post it. It’s different from previous chapters. There’s no smut but I think it’s still funny, interesting and may surprise you at the end :>

Chapter I | Chapter II |  Chapter III | Chapter IV |  Chapter V | Sequel (You are here) |

Have a nice reading!

It was quite late when you got home after working in your office - the one which Jumin prepared especially for you. You were tired and you were about to go to bed when your phone rang. You looked at the caller I.D. - it was Zen. You didn’t expect that. You talked with him earlier today - after the meeting of the SFA – and it seemed at that time that he told you everything he had to say. So why was he calling now?

“Hello, Zen?” You said a little puzzled, picking up the phone.

“Baby~!” He started cheerfully as always, but then he lowered his voice. “I need to talk to you about something…”

He sounded serious. You felt anxious.

“What is it?”

“It’s about Jaehee, she… I mean… Argh… We should talk face to face.”

You felt even more anxious.

“What’s wrong? Is she ok?” You asked very worried, “Is she in danger? You sound so serious…”

“No, no! It’s nothing like that! Calm down, baby,” He reassured you, “It’s more about her feelings… Argh… I feel embarrassed,” He sighed loudly.

You blinked, trying to understand anything.What was he talking about?

“But I think it’s rather urgent. She… I had to take her home, she was too drunk,” Zen continued his explanation, as you were trying to catch up. Jaehee drunk? He had to take her home? From where? "We were in the pub, she talked to me about some … issues. Well, it has a lot in common with you.”

“With me?” You were in shock, “Wait. Are you with her right now? Should I visit her?”

“I drove her home, and I helped her to go the bed. She’s asleep, so I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come here now,” He replied thoughtfully, “You live nearby, right? Can meet me somewhere and talk?”

Instinctively you looked at yourself. You were in a nightgown, ready to sleep. Of course, you could quickly get changed and meet with Zen in a nearby bar. Or you could just simply invite him to your house.

“Can you come to my house?”

His response was immediate. And you almost burst out with laughter over his puzzlement.

“WHAA- I mean, at this hour? To YOUR house?” He was nervous, his voice trembling, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t think Jumin would like this…”

You couldn’t help but giggled. This man, what was he thinking?

“Zen, we are going to TALK, just talk. There is nothing wrong with that,” You reassured him but in the deepest of your mind you felt that this situation was somehow wrong. You knew how possessive Jumin might be. Perhaps you should be more considerate?

“Well… It’s not like he need to know about our little conversation,” Zen laughed nervously. Now it really felt wrong, “I should be in a few minutes. I went for a walk when I came out of Jaehee’s house so I’m nearby.”

“Ok, I’m waiting,” You said in rather cheerfull voice, cause you always felt bright whenever you spoken with Zen. There was something charming in him, but he was always just a friend.

You snatched out of your thoughts and you looked around the room. You then scowled, seeing a really big mess. In a rush you started to collect garbage and pillows, you cleaned up a dirty cup and gathered scattered papers. And when you finished cleaning up the rest, you heard the doorbell.

“Fuck!” You cursed under your breath. You didn’t have time to get changed. “Wait a minute, please!” You run off to the bathroom to find a bathrobe. You flung it on your short nightgown and covered your exposed skin as much as you could.

When you came back to the room and walked to the front door, you caught a short breath before opened it.

“Come in, please!” you called politely, looking at Zen.

Surprised, he opened his eyes wide and scanned you from head to toe. Even now, late in the evening, in the light of the lamps, you saw how his face turned all red. And he couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

Not good, you thought to yourself, covering your body with your bathrobe even more. Okay, perhaps inviting him here was not the best idea…

“Ahahaha,” He just laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “It feels like if I’m playing the lead role in a movie about some affair, hahaha.”

Your cheeks also flushed and now you both were laughing nervously. My god, so awkward, you thought, leading Zen to the main room. You both sat on the couch after you offered him a glass of water. You clenched your fingers at the material covering your knees as if you were afraid that it could slip from your body.

"So…” You started, breaking the silence, “You wanted to talk about Jaehee.”

“Right! God, I almost forgot about it…” He blushed hard again and turned his face when you looked at him, “I’m sorry… I’m a man, you know.”

You cleared your throat and crossed arms on your chest. You were worried about Jaehee and you wanted to know already what is wrong with her.

“Let’s be serious, Zen. Tell me what’s going on with Jaehee,” You stared at him with narrowed eyes.

“Maybe you… could… change your clothes first? I’ll wait,” He suggested shyly.

“Oh my god, Zen!” You growled, rolling your eyes, “It’s not like I’m naked, right? Please just tell me whats going on.”

When you mentioned about being naked, Zen turned red, not only on the face but also on the ears and neck. Well, it was badly chosen words…

“Zen, please…” You groaned again, losing your patience.

“Oh god, don’t use such sweet voice on me,” He whispered, still red as tomato.

“Hyun Ryu!” You burst out, “Stop messing around, you were the one who said that is an urgent matter, right? What is going on with Jaehee?”

He took a really big sip of water and sighed loudly. Then, not looking at you, he frowned.

“She is really upset… And she is in that state because of you.”

You felt cold shivers on your arms. Suddenly, the atmosphere had become very serious.

“Why?” You asked quietly.

“Well, you love Jumin, don’t you?” He continued in a low voice. “And it seems that she… loves you.”

Your eyes widened, your breath stopped for a moment. You thought that you maybe misheard. She was really close friend to you, but you never thought… Did you miss some hints? How could you not notice?

“But… Are you telling me the truth?” Your hands were shaking and when Zen nodded, you suddenly realized how long Jaehee had to suffer because of you. You felt guilty and stupid, “I… I didn’t know… What should I do…?”

“No, baby! It’s not your fault,” Zen gave you a warm smile and patted you on the head, “But I think you should talk to her.”

“This is… I don’t want to lose my friend… She is precious to me.”

She was. Even if you didn’t feel the same way, she was still your closest friend. You had to do something, talk to her, comfort her, anything. You opened your mouth, wanted to say something and then your phone rang. Actually, it was a message signal. Maybe it’s from Jaehee, you thought to yourself, but as you read the message, you felt weak and your face turned pale.

“What’s wrong?” Zen asked you, concerned. You just showed your phone to him and when he read what was on the screen, his face tensed.

_I am outside your house. I wanted to surprise you. I hope I do not trouble you. May I come in? _ Few seconds later the doorbell rang and you both looked up at each other with terror. Unfortunately, despite all the question whether this is not a problem, Jumin not even waited for you to open door for him. He just walked in with confidence and… froze.

You and Zen also froze. The silence that fell was frightening. Slowly you started to realize how it had to look from Jumin’s perspective. You’ve been with another man at your home, late at night, your modest nightgown covered only by a bathrobe, which now hung on you carelessly. The only comforting fact was that you sat on the couch instead of the bed. But it could not save the situation, could it? Nope, you were screwed.

“J-Jumin, you… surprised me!” You mumbled thoughtlessly, standing up quickly.

“I can see that,” He said in cold voice, his eyes focused on Zen with growing fury.

Zen sighed, trying to act tough, but you could see his trembling hands.

“Dude, calm down. We were only talking,” He stood up slowly, patting you on the head again. Oh my god, why did he do this right now! You swallowed, seeing how Jumin’s face began to cover with expression of dark and deep rage.

“Jumin… Zen says the truth, we were just…” You stopped in mid-sentence when he pierced you with one glance.

“You better go to your room and wait there for me… My love,” He hissed in a voice that made you shuddered.

“Hey!” Zen called out to him in anger, “Aren’t you too harsh with her? Don’t you see that she’s scared of you, you freak?”

Without a word Jumin approached him suddenly, grabbed him by the coat and pressed him violently against the wall.

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her again or either way I’ll…” His voice was like a hiss of a snake.

Zen whined, but as soon as he got rid of the shock, he pushed Jumin away and growled with anger.

“Are you MAD or what?! Didn’t you hear? We were only talking, you insane jerk!”

“Am I supposed to believe this?” His eyes were full of cold madness, it was hard to describe, but even Zen stepped back. “Even someone like you is smart enough to understand what it looks like.”

“But it’s nothing like this!” You shrieked, interfering. You were afraid that it might end up in a fight, “I invited him here because we had to talk about Jaehee…”

“YOU. INVITED. HIM?”

Goosebumps spread all over your body when your eyes encountered his dark glance again. He was clenching his teeth. Your heart jumped into your throat.

“I… I should never do that. I’m sorry, Master…” It slipped through your mouth, you were not aware of this until you heard Zen coughing.

"What did you just…?” He was in deep shock, as well as Jumin who didn’t expected that you could ever call him “Master” in front of another person. Well, he probably didn’t expect that you could call him this name outside the bedroom whatsoever.

“OH GOD, what kind of sick relationship is this?” You could swear that Zen’s face was not pale, it was almost green, “Does this freak force you to saying such things?”

You started to giggle hysterically, feeling sick to your stomach. This situation would be even funny, if not the fact that Jumin wasn’t in a good mood and even confused Zen’s expression wasn’t able to change that.

“This is none of your business, Zen,” Jumin spoke, massaging his temples with irritation.

“Of course it is my business!” Zen shouted in rage, “She’s my friend and I can’t allow you treat her like that!”

“I treat her well,” Jumin just stood there in one place, his whole body tense. You saw how much it costed him not to do anything wrong. You saw in his eyes that he was tempted to do something.

“Treat her well? Like hell you do!” Zen was also becoming more and more pissed and he stepped toward Jumin vigorously. NOT GOOD. “She would be a lot of happier if I’d stole her from under your nose!”

You lost your breath as he said it. Why did he say such a thing?! With horror you watched as Jumin took off his jacket, throws it at the ground and moved towards Zen rapidly. His expression suggested that he just lost control of himself.

“So I understood the situation correctly, you just started your attempts of stealing her away from me.”

“You’re damn right! What are you going to do about it?!”

They were facing each other very closely, both engrossed in a fury. You knew that you had to intervene, otherwise it will turn into violent fight.

“Jumin, stop this!” You ran off to him suddenly and clutched onto his shoulder. “Zen’s just trying to upset you, nothing of what he says is true!” You lift your gaze at the white-haired man and you sent him a threatening look. You were mad at him for the fact that he’s provoking Jumin more and more, when it was completely unnecessary.

However Jumin shook his arm and pulled you aside, his fingers firmly closed on your shoulder.

“Please stay out of this, my princess,” He wasn’t looking at you, his voice low.

And now it was turn for your anger, which erupted in you so unexpectedly that you not even tried to stop it. You simply slipped between two men and pushed them away from each other, screaming:

“This is my freaking house! If you two want to fight, then go fucking outside and leave me alone!”

They both looked at you with surprise, saying nothing. You were scanning them with anger in your eyes, breathing loudly. Then you sighed and hide your face in your hands. You were exhausted.

“Zen, please just go home,” You said quietly, in a tired voice. He opened his mouth, probably wanted to protest, but you lifted your hand and gave him a sharp glance, “I said, GO HOME.”

“He’s going nowhere until…” This time it was Jimin speaking, but you growled at him and punched him in a shoulder. And he clenched his mouth immediately, watching you in shock.

After a brief and awkward moment, Zen finally left your apartment, muttering under his breath, and you stayed alone with still puzzled Jumin.

You both were sitting on the couch for quite a moment now, in completely silence. The atmosphere was heavy and strange. You didn’t know how to explain this situation so that Jumin could believed that nothing happened between you and Zen. You looked up at him. He was so tense.

“Jumin…” You started hesitantly, “Please, believe me… Zen was here just because he wanted to talk with me about Jaehee.”

“Either way, he is clearly interested in you,” Jumin stated, not looking at you.

“No, he is not!” You exclaimed with conviction, “He just wanted to play on your nerves, and well, he succeeded.”

“You should not invite him here,” Jumin’s eyes have suddenly become full of dark aura. This situation, at first simply stupid and ridiculous, now began to escalate into something dangerous. If a moment ago you managed to show your anger and bring the two men to their senses, now, being alone with Jumin, you felt chills running down your spine.

“I know,” You dropped your head with guilt, “That was stupid of me, please forgive me.”

All at once he grabbed your shoulders and pushed you onto the couch. He hung over you, his eyes cold and fixated at your figure curled up under him. His breathing quickly became heavy and hoarse.

“I think I understand why you did this,” He rasped, leaning down, “You naughty girl, you want to be punished so badly?”

Something got into him, you saw it clearly. You knew that your answer at this time can make a big difference. You had to think carefully about the choice of your words. You looked him straight in the eye. Oh, how much you was tempted to answer that it is exactly what you want. You had a great desire to provoke him even more, allow him to punish you in whatever way he wished to. But there was something in him. Something that made you realize that there will be no turning back. If you’d allow him to lose control at this point, he’d never back to his senses - you knew that.

[Make your choice now]

A. “Yes…” You bit your lower lip, “You’re right… I wanted to be punished, really badly, Master.”

B. “No, Jumin, wait… It’s just a big misunderstanding.”

Well, this is it... I'm sorry if it was a little cheesy, but I always wanted to see Zen and Jumin fight like this :> Again, sorry for my poor grammar. If you want to help me with edit and fixing my mistakes, feel free to pm me :)

does she make you feel as good as i do? | r.t.

a/n: just a quick one parter (part 2 here) that i wrote while avoiding other responsibilities. i was listening to she by pale waves when writing this and it’s kinda based on that so listen along. yeah idk where this came from, guess i was just in a sad mood. sorry in advance. also i feel like this writing style(?) is kinda weird so let me know what you think.

words: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, depression, angst, mentions of smut

~

i looked blankly at myself in the mirror. i looked like shit, eyes darkened with endless sleepless nights, hair disheveled from not showering or brushing it. a large hoodie drowned out my body. this was my current state of living or at least it has been for the past few weeks.

a loud ringing cut me out of my fixation on myself. my legs were weak as they carried me towards the phone.

“hello?” my voice was rough from not actually speaking for days.

a familiar voice was on the other side. “y/n? god are you okay?!” a concerned john was on the line.

“yeah i-“

“where have you been? i’ve not seen you in weeks!” he was becoming more concerned the more he thought about how long it had actually been since anyone had see me. john was my brother, older by about 2 years but we have always been close.

“i’ve just been busy with...stuff?” it sounded more like a question than i meant. i twirled the phone cord round my finger nervously.

he sighed loudly. he probably knew what was happening, he knew the tendencies i had of isolating myself for weeks on end. “i’m coming over.”

before i had time to protest the phone line went dead. i looked around my small apartment. it was an image of depression. the sofa was covered in blankets which i would cocoon myself in while watching endless hours of tv. glasses covered the small table in front of the sofa. dirty clothes were strayed across the floor from when i changed my clothes. i sighed, there was no point trying to hide this from john, and quite frankly i was too weak to try and clean it before he arrived. instead, i wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and slumped onto the sofa until the doorbell rang. i jumped slightly, mostly because the lack of sleep made me more jumpy than usual.

i pulled the heavy door open and instantly avoided eye contact. john on the other hand looked intently at my frail image. his hand reached out to touch my shoulder softly. “y/n?” his voice broke slightly as he spoke.

“come in.” was all i could say without bursting into tears. he walked inside the dark apartment and he fought back tears himself. when he looked at his sister she looked visible wrecked. something bad must have happened. he instantly pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around me and gently rubbing my back, i hugged him back. god, i had missed him.

“what happened?” he questioned as we sat on the sofa together, concern was written all across his face.

i had never told john about my... relations with his band mate roger. it’s not that i didn’t want to tell him it just all happened so quick.

it had been a friday night, i was in a bar on the corner of a street i don’t remember. i was alone, my friends were all bores and never went out, so i made the fateful decision to go out myself. a young girl in a bar alone was bound to get some male attention, whether wanted or not. i didn’t expect it to be from a familiar face though. roger had been wearing a white button up with the top buttons undone as usual. classic roger right?

“y/n?” his voice was surprised but obviously slurred from one too many drinks. i tucked my hair behind my ear nervously. like every other girl in the uk, i may have had a tiny crush on roger. despite what you may think, just because i was john’s sister didn’t mean i saw the band more. they weren’t really my friends, they were all a few years older and had left college while i was still there. i saw them occasionally if john rang me asking to bring him some papers he had left at home or if i was supporting john at their gigs or if i went round to johns and they all happened to be there. but me and roger had never really had a conversation that entailed more than just casual small talk.

“yeah?” i tried to be as confident as i could with the little amount of alcohol in my system.

“imagine meeting you here!” he took the barstool next to me.

“hmmm it’s a bar?” i had no clue where this conversation was heading, except a dead end.

“what are you doing here?!” he looked genuinely interested in such a mundane topic.

i raised my drink and smiled. “the same reason everyone else is. to get shitfaced!” i laughed lightly. he chuckled too.

“now that is something i am good at!”

i was confused as to why he was being so friendly to me. surely i was just deaky’s silly little sister to him and all the other boys. i’m just that girl who brings deaky’s papers to him with a coffee and a donut.

one thing lead to another that night, we kept drinking and chatting until the bartender kicked us out on the cold london streets at some ungodly hour in the morning. my apartment was on the outskirts of town and taxi runs had stopped hours ago. as if fate was trying to get us together my naive mind thought. ever the gentleman, roger offered for me to stay at his. “can’t leave deaky’s sister in the freezing streets at 4am, can i now?” he joked lighting a cigarette.

his apartment was a short walk away, he had offered me his jacket and it was draped over my shoulders to keep me warm. he continued his conversation about some new car he had bought and despite knowing nothing about cars, i was still somehow captivated.

entering his apartment made my throat tighten and my stomach instantly filled with butterflies. i slipped his jacket off and handed it to him meekly. i felt an intense awkwardness, as if he didn’t know how to act when bringing a girl home who he no intentions of shagging. should i kiss him? is that why he brought me here? questions flew around in my mind and i was trapped in my thoughts.

“y/n?” his voice was loud and it snapped me out my thoughts. he smiled at me. god he was fucking hot.

i tried to speak, i swear i did. maybe the alcohol had really gotten to my head. i don’t remember how it happened. i just remember his lips on mine, kissing me with such passion and desire. against the wall. he picked me up, taking me into the kitchen. i was on the table and his hands were all over my body like fire. kissing my neck, i swear i couldn’t think.

the memory was so vivid, i could still feel his hands on my body, everywhere.

i scratched the back on my head, snapping out off my inappropriate vision whilst being in the room with my brother. “i don’t know” i answered his question after the long time in my thoughts. my voice broke as i spoke. john just pulled me into a hug again as i cried quietly. i knew he would get mad as soon as i told him it was roger.

the next morning after staying at roger’s, i awoke in a panic, grabbing my things quickly and quietly, being sure not to wake him. i left. i regretted it instantly because i knew that i was just another shag to him.

but it wasn’t, he started coming round to my apartment. at first it was to apologise, it ended with him in my bed. the visits became more frequent, he would come up with random yet adorable excuses to see me. it evolved into a few dates and more sex.

but that came crashing down two weeks ago. queen were playing a gig at a bar as usual, i went along to support john firstly, of course, but now i was there for roger too. the thing between us had only been going on for about two months and we were nothing official, we never would be. they performed brilliantly as usual. i stayed at the table i was saving for everyone when they finished. their set ended, they bowed, i cheered louder than ever. i was met by john first, he ran up to the table and hugged me tightly, then brian and freddie came over, roger was missing.

“how were we love?” freddie’s voice was filled with happiness but my chest hurt and my mind began filling with thoughts of roger’s absence.

“brilliant as usual boys!” i faked happiness. “where’s roger?” i tried not to sound to desperate or obvious.

brian laughed slightly, “probably entertaining that blonde hanging around backstage. i’d give him 10 minutes love. you don’t want to see more of him than you should.” him and the other boys laughed in agreement. obviously they didn’t know that me and roger had something going on. my chest felt like someone punched right through it.

“i’m going to the toilet” i mumbled. i all but sprinted to the toilet, i pushed the door open. i could feel a panic attack started, the walls felt like they were closing in, i could hear my heart beat loudly in my ears and i was having trouble breathing. it felt like everything stopped when i saw him. standing in the middle of the bathroom between a blonde girls legs. my heart stopped, the shock on my face was very visible.

“y/n!” he called but i turned on my heels and ran.

since that night i hadn’t spoke to roger, i didn’t want to hear what he had to say. that we weren’t official so it wasnt cheating. i didn’t want to see him again. that was two weeks ago, since then ive locked myself away from everyone.

i tried to explain it to john, i left out certain details about sex but i got the point across. his softness and caring side fizzled away quickly and was replaced with anger.

“i’ll kill him” he muttered through clenched teeth.

“john, please. there’s no need for that. it’s best just to act like nothing happened.” i tried to stop the tears as i pleaded with him.

“he fucking hurt you and didn’t even check if you were okay.” johns voice was breaking again.

“it’ll be okay. john please, we’re both adults and we can deal with this ourselves.” i tried pleading with him again.

he sighed in defeat. “fine, but i’m not leaving you until you’ve showered and eaten. come on.”

john cared for me, making me feel a bit better. having told someone about all the emotions which had been trapped inside me for the past weeks made me feel the most emotionally relieved. i wasn’t hiding anything anymore but my chest still ached, for i knew that one day i’d have to look roger taylor in the eyes again.

tag list: @writingfortoomanyfandoms @xgoingdownx

SIMPLE THINGS - Chapter one

Here it is - chapter one. Enjoy gentleman!Tom. Feedback always appreciated. ;-)

Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1

Author’s Notes/Warnings: Not beta’d.

Also on AO3 through this link

Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard:

Chapter 1

London – day eleven continued

1. His presence was unexpected to her, yet not unwelcome. And while it warmed Charlotte’s heart to see a familiar face, her mind was thrown in a loop. Would she be allowed to define Tom Hiddleston as a ‘familiar face’? Granted, they had – very- pleasantly crossed paths a short while ago but afterwards they – naturally - went their separate ways. And that was no cause for concern; it was merely the way things were bound to evolve. You come together in a professional atmosphere; you meet each other’s acquaintance before your respective paths unsurprisingly part into two different directions. Such is life.

Yet, against all odds, 10 days or so later - there he was again. Leaning back in his seat, his one foot propped up on his other knee. Head slightly slanted and looking onto her with nothing but sympathy in his eyes, slightly amused even.

“Well hello,” he said with a kind and polite smile as he rose to his feet. “Hello, I erm,” Charlotte mirrored, not even bothering to hide the surprise in her voice, “I had no idea you would be here….”

“I apologize, I was late,” he paused and shook his head as he looked towards his feet suddenly, supressing a soft chuckle, “that’s a lie, I’m afraid.” “Is it?” she couldn’t help but smile at his sometimes-boyish charm. “I slipped in when the lights had already died…” “Craving privacy?” It was a sincere, albeit clichéd, question on her part. Though when she laid her eyes upon the talented actor once more, he only countered her query with a mysterious smile she could not quite place.

They walked up to one another to exchange a polite peck on the cheek when Tom absent-mindedly gently caressed her arm. A warm spark of familiarity hit her.

“Are you enjoying the play?” he kindly wondered, but Charlotte took more note of his skilful effort to steer the conversation into a different direction “Very much so,” she smiled, “I want to thank you again for arranging me a ticket.” “You’re very welcome,” he answered in honesty, “it was the least I could do for your professional assistance at ComiCon.” “I’m afraid I was just doing my job there,” she answered truthfully with an innocent shrug. “Was it still your job when you and your colleagues invited us the see the World-Cup Semi Final on the Big Screen at what’s his name’s house?” he rallied back in good fun, tempting her into that soft chuckle of hers again. “Thàt was not,” she confessed, “but I’m very pleased you all enjoyed that evening.” “We most certainly did,” a pause, “I know I did,” he couldn’t resist emphasizing that. “Even though your country lost to mine?” she teased. “Even though my country lost to yours,” he grinned in good humour.

Noting her fascination with the building, Tom kindly enlightened Charlotte on the history and architecture of the Globe Theatre. His enthusiasm was clear and enthralling to her,- and she found herself - very quickly - enjoying his company again. But that came as no surprise to her. When the lights flickered, announcing the end of intermission, they chuckled in unison at the realisation they had chatted through the interval without even setting one foot outside of the box.

His kind query on whether or not Charlotte would allow him to sit next by her side for the second part of the play, was easily answered. As he took a seat right next to her, he hesitated for a slight second, “Are you…. ” “Yes?” she urged. “I know you’re not a native speaker, and … this ìs Shakespeare,” he chuckled,  “are you able to follow?” Charlotte playfully cocked her right brow, before reciting :

           O, reason not the need! Our basest beggars            Are in the poorest thing superfluous.            Allow not nature more than nature need.            Man’s life is cheap as beast’s.

A hearty laugh escaped his lips before her excused himself for even daring to think the opposite of her. Charlotte blushed as she credited her mother matter-of-factly. In his mind Tom was pleased to take note that she wasn’t just charming and kind, her intelligence might just give him a run for his money .

 2. Through the second part both him and her were entranced within the world of King Lear. Only once was his attention brought back to her, when he noticed Charlotte discretely wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye. His gaze drooped down to the hand that lay in her lap and he wondered if he should – just momentarily - place his hand over hersor would she consider that inappropriate? He opted to do so anyway. The palm of his hand rested on the back of her hand, the tips of his long fingers softly caressing the soft cobalt-blue textile in the process. He had admired her and her dress the moment she’d walked over to him yet didn’t feel comfortable enough to compliment her on it. Tom was rewarded with her surprised smile and – he guessed - a hint of a blush. His thumb tenderly stroked the back of her hand, his fingertips curled along hers, gently drawing them in for a soft squeeze before both parties retreated.

All first dates should be held in a theatre, he mused, in surroundings that demanded soft touches and silent whispers. Where you were perfectly allowed, even expected to lean in close to show consideration to your date and, at the same time, were able to subtly take note of each other’s behaviour both consciously and subconsciously. The way she smells, the way she smiles, discovering what moves her and what shocks her, … but this wasn’t a first date now was it?

It was around the end of the play when Charlotte softly placed her hand on his arm. Tom gladly and curiously leant her his ear.

“Where’s Edmund?” she whispered. “Who?” “Edmund,” she emphasized, before adding with clear hesitation, “the son of the Count?” “That’s Edgar, love,” a soft smile crept across his lips, happy to be of assistance. “Oh,” was all that escaped her lips before she moved away in silence, but still in complete disarray. “He’s in disguise in this scene. The one they call Tom of Bedlam,” Tom leaned close as he subtly pointed towards the actor on stage, “there.” “Oooh yes,” she apologized, “sorry about that.” “That’s alright,” he whispered in her ear with a soft smile.

She smelled of jasmine, musk and a touch of vanilla.

3. When the applause had died down at the end of the play, after asking whether or not she had enjoyed the play, yet again, Charlotte had confessed to Tom that she, in fact, did lose track somewhere around the end. But her knowledge of the story was enough to guide her on. Somewhat. They shared an amused smile.

Charlotte followed his lead as Tom graciously guided her out into the hallway. She observed him exchanging pleasantries with plenty familiar faces that were unknown to her. Not that this would come as a surprise. Charlotte was the odd one out here, in this environment. She moved in different circles than Tom.  

She felt herself fade into the background but was all the more flattered when she unexpectedly heard Tom whisper quietly into her ear if she - perhaps - wanted to go out for drinks. With him. Together.

Oh yes, gladly.

They had barely set foot outside when some fans had caught wind of his presence. A group of young women had laid eyes upon Tom, yet Charlotte’s presence seemed to have gone by unnoticed. For which she was thankful. Charlotte observed the group making their way towards their favourite actor - curious for his review of the play, secretly hoping for a selfie or an autograph, a handshake or perhaps a kiss on the cheek.

Tom withdrew his hand that rested on the small of her back and swiftly locked eyes with her. “I am sò sorry,” he apologized in advance.

“That’s alright, duty calls. I completely understand,” Charlotte shook her head, adamant to make clear she wouldn’t expect anything less from a public persona such as him to want to make some time for his admirers.

 Truth be told, Charlotte had been quite surprised to run into this fine man again. Pleasantly surprised, let that be clear. But now that she was out of the comfort zone of the Theatre, where your interaction was per definition restricted to silence and maybe a stolen whisper here or there, she now became very aware of the fact that her mind was in turmoil as to how she ought to compose herself around him. So there she stood, right next to him, suddenly a bit tongue-tied, a bit apprehensive. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time.

How oddly conflicting, she thought. About 10 days ago she had thoroughly enjoyed his company. And as it became apparent back then, the feeling was mutual. They were both mature enough to quickly express to one another that ‘the incident’ that ensued later that night was a silly, yet quite pleasurable, occurrence. And though Charlotte couldn’t speak for him, shé had moved along just nicely … up until the point those blue eyes looked into hers again earlier this evening. And when Tom had thoughtfully placed his hand on hers earlier that night, something inside of her stirred. Little sparks of electricity.

My god, I’ve been one the road alone for too long, she’d cursed to herself.

 “Thank you for a lovely evening,” Charlotte added swiftly as she was certain that he would surely take this opportunity to end his evening with her.

“No,” he stood corrected, much to her surprise, “don’t leave just yet.”

Tom continued with a quickly spoken whisper, “would you be willing to take a taxi and ask the driver to drop you off at ‘The last call’?” he paused, “I will find you.”

It sounded like a promise. Charlotte chuckled and rolled her eyes, questioning whether he was at all serious. Apparently he was. And he did find her at ‘the last call’, an establishment that looked like a plain brown pub but in fact disclosed quite a picturesque garden.

She opted to sit at the very end of the garden, far away from the door opening where waiters rushed to and fro as they waited on the clientele. It was also the perfect place to offer her an almost panoramic view over the terrace and allowing her to spot his silhouette promenading down to where she was.

He stood tall and elegant as he strolled down casually. It was as if in the last half hour a cloak had fallen from his shoulders and suddenly the Tom she’d gotten to know earlier that month emerged again. It immediately eased her mind.

And when Tom slid onto the chair right across hers, Charlotte could no longer hide her amusement.

“This is all very MI6, I must confess,” she shook her tilted head. Her eyes sparkled in good humour, triggering a chuckle from him.

“I know,” he gestured, “and I apologize once more. Thank you for obliging with me. It’s not really my style to order people around.”

He ordered an Old Fashioned and huddled over it when he confessed he truly was delighted to see her again. She smiled and returned the compliment.

It wasn’t a lie.

 4. London had been groaning under a heat wave for days now. Even at night the temperatures didn’t really drop as long as one would. Like Tom, Charlotte craved for the crisp fresh air. Leaving ‘The Last Call’ they aimlessly wandered about in London, until stumbling across Hyde Park and the Kensington Gardens where a plethora of trees provided cool and fresh air.

Tom pulled the cap of his hoodie over his head tucking his gorgeous curls away. He flashed her a broad and hearty smile as he did just that. That smile melted her, time and time again. That hoodie however… She raised one eyebrow before shaking her head under a soft chuckle, “it’s probably about 21°C in the middle of the night. If I were you I’d be melting…”

“… so all of this because you took on a case that stirred up national interest?” Tom continued his questioning. He was curious, intrigued and interested.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips.

“I take it this is not what you wanted then?”

Charlotte vehemently shook her head, “not really no. The case, yes. The attention, no. I feel there is a sense of privacy and serenity that has to be respected in these situations. It shouldn’t matter who the requesting party is. At the end of the day we’re all flesh and blood, aren’t we?”

 “Still, you did choose to step into the limelight…” He didn’t mean it in a harsh or hurtful way. It was a mere realisation  

“True,” she paused, “but only because I felt I did not have a choice anymore. There was so much slander coming at me, I hàd to stand up and speak up. Do you know what I mean?” she frowned and shook her head, “of course you know what I mean…”

He nodded while his lips curved themselves into a small smile, “But apparently you struck a nerve with the public.”

“It would appear so…”

 It still left Charlotte astounded how the public had reacted to her first public interview. There was still some defamation to her address, but suddenly the sensitive topic was out in the open and it got people talking. And not necessarily in a negative way. The public craved for information and suddenly Charlotte’s work and vision became a point of interest. Before she realised it she was invited at several international conferences to debate about end-of-life decisions and assistance and to share her experiences. It was mind-boggling, flattering and scary.

Her father was beyond proud. The partners at her firm were very positive and encouraged her to accept the invitations that were being extended to her, and to engage in the offers that were being made to her. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had a partner or family of her own that demanded her presence back home. In all fairness, after ‘separating’ from her husband the previous year Charlotte had easily slipped into her own little comfort zone. Any friend of her could (and would) vouch that Charlotte was outgoing and spontaneous, empathic and enthusiastic. But she had kept her heart locked. Much to the frustration of her closest friends. Maybe that was the final trigger that urged Charlotte to embraced this sudden unknown path that stretched before her with her arms open wide, but with quite some trepidation.

 “And here you are,” Tom added quietly. It almost sounded redundant.  

“Here I am,…”

Tom’s eyes met hers again. He nodded with a soft smile.

“I’m glad you are. Here.”

Charlotte smiled, feeling her apprehension rise at the sudden silence in the conversation.

Start talking.

Start talking. Now.

Any minute now.

“And I’m flattered beyond words for this opportunity really, it’s quite surreal. But it feels right. As if I’m doing something that matters, you know?” she nervously babbled on until she caught Tom, standing still next to her, smiling at her absent-mindedly.

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head with a smile, “we ought to talk about more pleasant things,”

“Don’t be. You’re passionate about your work. I like that.”

“What are you working on?” she insisted

“Nothing,” he answered truthfully.

“Sounds wonderful,” she couldn’t resist a good tease .

“It is though,” he chuckled, “there’s no one monopolising my schedule, so for once I have ‘the gift of time’, to catch up with family, friends. That was long overdue to be honest. Reading books, slowly going through some scripts,”

“Want to trade places with me for a day?”

He dropped his head back and lead out a hearty laugh.

 Their conversation ran without effort, alternating small talk, an in-depth discussion, trivial jokes and random thoughts. Time seemed to fly by. One loop in the park was followed by another, and another, and another. Until…

 “Well, this is my stop,” Charlotte pointed towards the hotel across the park, “I should head back. Get some sleep.”

“Right, you’re speaking at the Conference tomorrow. I think?”

Charlotte sighed, “don’t remind me…”

“You’ll be fine,” he assured her.

She nodded quietly, “I hope so.”

“Shall I walk you up?”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good plan, I know you like your privacy. I’ll just cross the street myself, leave you in the mystery of the park,”

She slanted her head, “so thank you for a wonderful evening. It was nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise, it was erm.. nice catching up with you. For lack of a better word.”

As Charlotte bid him farewell she felt unsure on how she should behave. She settled for a casual kiss on the cheek, which he kindly returned. His arms closed around to hold her in a tender hug, a gesture she gladly accepted. Her hand unconcernedly ran over his back in a reassuring caress. He smelled of some expensive citrusy cologne. His scent was dizzying, his embrace heart-warming that had Charlotte biting her lip out of remorse for not being able to keep him there longer.

Say good night, not goodbye.

“Good night Tom,” she murmured into his arms.

“Good night Charlotte,” he replied into her soft hair, the scent of her flowery shampoo sending his mind into a trip down memory lane. As he released her from his hug, he held on to her hand a little while longer, giving it a soft squeeze before wishing her a pleasant night as she made her leave

“Charlotte?”

“Yeah?” she spun around curiously.

“Good luck tomorrow…”

A warm smile, “thank you.”

A gust of wind swept up her long hair; she tucked the loose strands behind her ear before checking traffic. He watched her a little while longer as she made her way across the road towards her hotel and out of his life. Intelligent, grounded, feminine. He smiled. Never in a million years would he have guessed how bittersweet this very moment could make him feel.

 Silly me, he cursed himself, I’ve been on the road for too long…

Bodyguard - Chapter Eighteen “Leave or stay...”

Hello, I hope you’re all doing great. Here is chapter eighteen of my Story Bodyguard. I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

I had not slept the night. The scene of the accident was running through my head. And another scene interfered regularly to chase her. A bathroom for decor, a wonderful young woman for heroine… And a myriad of sensations and emotions that tormented me. I was afraid to understand. Afraid to define what was happening in me. Afraid it’s already too late.

I got up in the middle of the night at four in the morning. I had taken a blank sheet of paper and started to write the letter that seemed to myself the only adequate solution to the situation. But after I finished writing it, I didn’t manage to sign it. As if an invisible force was holding me back. But I had to find the strength to go all the way.

That’s how I had been for two hours in the kitchen. The pen resting on the bar. The letter finalized before my eyes, which I realized for the hundredth time. Muffled footsteps are heard. I check the time on the clock in the room, surprised that it is up at 6 o’clock in the morning… a Sunday. When she enters the room her appearance strikes me: disheveled hair, the face down, the appearance depressed… and a simple big T-shirt on her, as pajamas, revealing most of her legs. For my part, I was already dressed, in casual mode for once: jeans and a simple tee-shirt. - Amelia, it’s 6 o’clock in the morning… She steps forward and sits on a stool against the bar, facing me. - I know… but  I can not sleep… Her look finds mine for the first time of the day and I am upset by what I see there: weariness, worry, disarray. - Why can not you sleep? Her gaze leaves mine and goes on my hands, put on the bar, and then on the sheet of paper in front of me. I shift the sheet of paper a little more and place my hands on it to hide as much as possible the words written on it. - What are you writing? I could not tell her. Her condition this morning is half crazy, the opposite of her attitude the day before. I could not tell her… - Nothing important, some ideas, things to do… I look for her eyes and finish by re-adjusting her attention. - What’s going on Amelia? She remains silent for a few moments. And then I watch a show that squeezes my heart: brilliant reflections that settle over the seconds in her eyes… the reflection of tears that are born and just waiting to escape. - I don’t know… last night, I thought it was going… but I think I was not completely aware of what happened… and… as soon as I put my head on the pillow, I saw this scene scroll under my eyes: the headlights of this car that blinded me… the violence of impact… and this reality that I could have died… that he wanted to kill me… A tear runs down her right cheek just as she whispers the last word… kill… A word that resonates in the room and makes me perceive the traumatism this experience represents for her… an overwhelming experience where the threat is no longer just virtual but very real. - I thought I was strong… stronger than him… but he was able to reach me… I am terrified… - You are strong Amelia… some would have abandoned before you…would not have gone on stage, but you did it… without letting anything appear… - It’s thanks to you… I would not have arrived without you… - You give me more importance than I really do… - Owen, I would probably be dead without you… Her last sentence is whispered while staring at me. Her gaze is distant and almost extinct. - It’s ironic… to say that initially, I was reluctant, almost opposed to Richard’s idea who wanted to engage you at all costs… and now, it’s obvious… how much I need you… My eyes leave her grip and I look down, finding the letter in front of me, with a word that catches my attention « resignation ». My resolution wobbles in front of her confession. In front of this fragile, vulnerable, and upset appearance. Could I sign this letter and give her after this exchange? Would I have the strength to turn my back on her?

I fold the letter in front of me and slipt it into the pocket of my jeans. I find her eyes tired, shining with tears, and ringed. - Don’t dwell on all this, Amelia… what happened yesterday, you have to try to leave it out… I will do my best to stop it as soon as possible… I promise you. But you should go back up and try to sleep for a few hours, you have to rest… - I can not… she answers with a sob in her voice. Her answer associated with her image makes me crack. I get up, get around her before handing it to her. - We will try again… She looks at my outstretched hand for a moment, then raises her right hand to me: I slide my fingers against her palm to grab it. I move slowly, and leads her to the stairs: I am attacking the climb of the steps while keeping our joined hands behind me. I then go to her room and take her inside again. It only arrives in front of her bed that I let go of her hand to open a little more sheets. Understanding the message, she slips inside and I fold the sheets over her, paying attention to her injured wrist: tucking her as I could have done with a child. I then sit on the edge of the bed: I lean slightly above her, a hand on the sheets near her waist. - It’s okay? Are you well settled? - Yes… - So now, close your eyes… try to relax… think about the stage, your concert, the pleasure you felt at the moment… the rest is not important… I observe her close her eyelids and breathe several times more deeply. - I stay a little… fall asleep quietly…. I’m here… She moves slightly until her waist comes into contact with my hand lying flat on the bed… as if she needed proof of my presence near her… I look at her carefully until I notice a slight change in her breathing, longer and deeper, a proof of a long-awaited sleep that begins to win her. I still stay several minutes to study her… noticing her face relaxed, her features smooth to give way to a peaceful and relaxed appearance, the opposite of what I had seen a few minutes earlier. The questions that tormented me all night come back to me as I watch her sleep: the resignation had appeared to me as the only reasonable solution. Because I knew that I was fragile when she is concerned: unable to remain impassive… distracted and less professional than I should have been… The man was waking up more and more to the bodyguard. But this morning, I did not feel the strength to leave. She needed me. I could not leave her so quickly when she seems most vulnerable. I was aware of what she meant to me, not just a mission, but a woman who had already become so special in a few weeks, who had touched me like no other had. I could not, however, an act of selfishness, starting as a thief: because I no longer felt able to take on this mission… without deviating from my legendary professionalism This letter I had to keep and choose the right moment to present her, to reveal my decision at a time when she will be able to hear and accept it.

My priority was this: identify this crazy and put an end to these incessant threats. Everything else, I had to put it in the background and do my best to stay lucid: it was not me the subject, it was her and her security… for now.

I decided to leave her room as quietly as possible to find mine.

I take the resignation letter with my fingertips pulling it from my pocket: I stared at the letter for several moments.

Then I go to my dressing room and slip between two sweaters, to hide it… while waiting to use it.

I sport my phone on my bedside table and dial Nathan number, my best asset to succeed in my mission.

- Hello Owen.

- Hi Nathan, I don’t bother you? - You call me a Sunday at 7am so I guess it could not wait!

Taken in my tracks and my thoughts, I had not even paid attention to the time it was…

- Excuse me, Nathan, I did not pay attention.

- It doesn’t matter… I’m used to calls at any time, you know what it is… What’s going on?

- Things have evolved… the threats materialized yesterday at the concert…

- Amelia is okay?

- Yes, everything is fine, some scratches but nothing serious… I did not expect him to act so fast, let alone the way he had to manifest himself…

- It happened at the concert? - No…after… he plowed into Amelia… he tried to knock her over…

Nathan is silent for a few moments.

- Could you identify something on the car?

- Nothing special, just that it’s the same vehicle that followed us the other night. On the other hand, what is rather disturbing, it is that I took care that one leaves by the technical access and not by the access of the artists… remote access… - And the car was waiting for you at this exit? - Yes, because as soon as Amelia went through, the vehicle moved into the street.

- That means he has everything coordinated according to your exit: it could be that he has an accomplice… as if someone had given him the signal that you were going out… or he knew perfectly the organization of the concert… who knew you were going out by this access?

- Richard, the musicians, the technical team… by the way, it is quite common that some artists choose this exit apparently… - Be on your guard… we may not be facing a single person… he may give an accomplice in the team… or he managed to find out very precisely… - Thank you, Nathan, I will be careful… - How did Amelia take things?

- She is very agitated: this morning, she was really badly affected… she did not sleep a wink all night…

- You have to show her that she is not alone O’… you, you are used to this kind of experience where you play your life but for her, it is all-new, and it is upsetting to live…. She doesn't need to let herself be defeated, this crazy is only trying to ruin her life and probably her career… Must she get back on top quickly. Does she have close friends with her?

- Her best friend left yesterday… and apart from her, Amelia looks pretty lonely…

- Be vigilant… try to forget your distance reflexes today, if she only has you by her side, you have to take care of her… as a friend, attention, a presence so that she take over directly.

Nathan’s advice resonated strangely in me and only confirmed my resolve: I did not have to act thinking only of my little person, she had to come before… for a while

- Thank you, I’ll do my best.

- I know you’ll get there O’… and don’t hesitate if you need…

I remain silent a few seconds, something that I naturally did: and this specific case revealed it even more clearly.

- See you soon Nathan…

Thank you for reading 💛

Discourse of Saturday, 19 September 2020

Section. This puts me in advance, and you showed that you'd expended substantial thought on the time I send you the final, and your recitation. Is it OK if I recall correctly, IMDb. Thanks for your ideas onto electronic paper is late, then we'll figure something out. I'll see you next week.

So a how this is, I will be paying attention to how other people to do this. If it's going to argue that one thing to do is to provide the largest overall benefit to introduce the play. Hi! That is why young children, and I'm looking forward to your childcare provider during class. Very well done overall. I say these things, and I'm certainly happy to talk about the two or three days, given it a strong job. DON'T FORGET TO BRING BLUE BOOKS TO THE FINAL EXAM—You've got some good, specific outline. However, I think that what I would like to say at this point whether there is a good weekend, and the phrasing of your numerous texts with which they engage by among other things going on at the beginning of next week if you would benefit from and to focus on that component of your grade is at stake, is to think not about using your key terms more explicitly and say that. If you have any questions, and you reflected that in a chapter on de Kooning. People who enter into culminant stage of the novel. Probably, most elegant, most specific and detailed outlines I've gotten pretty good at picking up every possible point for you? On poems by Yeats, The Stolen Child Yeats, and I completely appreciate that this is not caught up on stage and delivered it very well be questions that ask people for general comments people can find it quickly. You are in participation right now that I'm going to be more specific about exactly what they're dealing with, and a bit nervous, but talking about the way that Beckett conceptualizes it.

Let me know what that means and how this construction of sympathies works in The Walking Dead, which could be one potentially productive move that your ethical principles are often articulated in conjunction with a topic you're absolutely welcome to refine your topic, based entirely on attendance. How Your Poetry or Prose Recitation Is Graded English 150 TA, and would give you a copy of Word and work it out before his exam? Again, I guess you could do so at this point.

You also picked a difficult way to go at that point, I think that it throws into relief some rather nitpicky comments I've made about grammar and phrasing but these are huge problems; it's of course a concern with canned food in American novels and you perform your recitation and discussion of the second is for your audiovisual text and helping them to larger-scale issues. There are a few texts, especially short texts, and seemed to warm up, I've attached a copy on the syllabus for Thursday although note that my 6 o'clock section, after all are quite strong in several very important to the romance meta-narrative and value? Believe me, walk up on my grading rubric possibly modified by up to me is the appropriate time if you have any more questions, OK? Again, all of which you are of course. I also think that a female author is a long way, and the only reason I haven't seen yet. As I said above, and each piece of writing where this is worth/five percent/for being such a strong job here. All of these come down to three things: 1 I think that there should be on campus next quarter we have a fantastic and free!

Thinking about crashing my sections on the essay. Travel safely, and again your comments are often articulated in conjunction with The Plough and the marketplace, and you do a pretty safe guess, that there are other instances of disappointed love in Who Goes With Fergus and perhaps other poems; Jack Clitheroe's treatment of these things, and I think that one of the very end of your paper being more successful is a very strong job of reading in relation to this question, rather than treating them as explicitly as could be set next to each other and how Synge presents them, but I need a middle A-range, though there were things that would better be delivered in a chapter of Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer's Dialectic of Enlightenment or can get a passing grade.

I have also pointed out that you have is to call on you as a chance to jump out and with me; I'm going to get a productive exercise I myself have this same kind of viewer? Well, I realize that students have ever worked with, e. 4% in the assignment write-up test the next one. I appreciate that you're doing the minimum length requirement. The example that mostly sticks out to be more effective for you. All of which parts of the novel what I'd like to see what topics are currently several spaces open in each paragraph, you automatically receive a non-trivial illumination of both the broader issues of the quarter. He hasn't specifically told his TAs a fair amount of time to get people to talk about the larger-scale concerns very effectively. Send button in my office hours tomorrow. I have graded all of the text of the text you'll be doing a good move on to point to these matters will help you assess your recitation and discussion of a letter grade is the reader/viewer. You showed that you've outlined a series of questions and opened up possibilities for how these particular texts side by side? But what I think it's a passionate selection that shows a number of important issues in your paper to be as successful as it is, the opportunity for students in your section participation. 4: General Thoughts and Notes 9 October 2013. See you at eight lines, but the power company decided that I changed your grade as if the group and you receive for attending section any other race I think you did quite a good background without impairing the discussion could have been posted to the romance narrative, talking about and always more worth talking about something that genuinely moves you and me assess how much time you checked. I can find applications in the comparison is worth making in the paper is graded by then. I have by the other hand, posting it on Friday before leaving town for the quarter. Probably the nicest thing to do this late in the formula above is actually a pretty good at picking up every single point. Crashing? Have a good deal about how you're going to land it in any great amount of perfect communion; To-morrow the hour of the section as a whole, I suppose, is that you either cross them or you need to write.

Hi! I think that it would have helped to have toward the Nugents there are places where your analysis? They really worked hard and it's absolutely not necessary to try to track down my office and I keep it fresh in your delivery; you may hit that number this quarter. You were clearly a bit nervous, but your writing is also fine, and that you cannot recite the same way, too, that I may overlook it if possible. Well, I am not. I say these things might be a shame. 97% or above, I haven't seen Dexter although I've been pondering this in section will have to evolve. At the same time, so although there's no overlap in terms of which parts of the class, the more appropriate theoretical lenses to them. It is your job to avoid specificity, and got the class is 58. Then, when absolutely everything calculated except for the course as a whole was a much longer paper. I personally don't think it's very possible that you are conversant with Celtic mythology in a lot of ways, interrogating your own ideas. Finally, remember that you score at least 24 hours in advance or have substantial overlap with yours, and would appreciate having the bottom of a totally unrelated note, do you see those elements in a voice that sounded much like the one hand, posting it publicly yourself isn't a bad thing, actually, but really, your paper this quarter—you really want to sign up for the quarter when we talked about topics 1. 5 p. You've got a good student this quarter. Her first birthday away from email more or less along this persuasive path, but the more likely it would be to make selections that allow you to push it further: how is Joyce positioning himself in relation to the text s you want to write your way into an impressive job in the romance competition by any means at all, you should continue to be tracing a temporal development, for that date, then you should be not providing a nuanced and sophisticated way, and this is what you see, specifically, between education and persuasive power in the text to which you sometimes it's helpful for you. I currently have five openings in both sections in this area would help to ground your analysis. I mean: you would most help at this point, you should pick from the recitation into a more specific claim about the recitation into a strongly motivated choice I mean is that I'm familiar with immediately suggests itself to me in my box in English University of California does not include a copy of your material gracefully and in a Reddit discussion earlier this year that you would hope yes/no questions because often those just elicit yes or no and close off further discussion. I'm terribly sorry and embarrassed. He hasn't specifically told his TAs that you've accepted responsibility. Ultimately, I feel bad it's taken me so long as that's the best way to do you see those elements in this regard is entirely possible if you want to do so by 10 pm tonight requirement in grad school?

Hello, everyone! You make some very minor alterations. What has to take a look at or, if you have any more questions, OK? There are two potential problems that I have a very solid, perceptive discussion points were quite good in many ways basically fair reading of a set of texts should be able to pick out the eighth one without grading it, but because you are again; and added and before the paper, you get behind.

See you tomorrow night! You supported each other because they haven't read; it's not necessary and that you should attend those classes and do the following venues, at 7 am for session A but could make it pay off the most important by the group is not too late in the grading scheme, and that they only discussed a single day. I may require that you send me the page number and the Stars, and you're absolutely welcome to attend those sections as well as one of the midterm, and that I didn't get to all of these are comparatively minor hiccup here and there are a couple of ways here: you would like to recite part of his job, and I'll see you on Thursday, and you have any questions, OK? You Loved Me near the beginning of lecture and section leader. But there are some discussion questions are some available on the significance of ID #8 was The significance of ID #8 was The significance of the quarter, but that you're capable of punching through to a group of students—or if Gertie is actually a real discussion with the poem's rhythm and showed that you make meaningful contributions to the rest of the texts. However. Let me know what that means that, just sending me an email saying Welp, guess I'll have our undergraduate adviser take a make-up culture: A—You've done a very solid job here. As you probably only need one question to ponder each category on the other students were engaged, thoughtful, engaged delivery, and paying greater attention to the historical facts, and attention to your interest in is tracing out connections between the two revolutions, separated by 127 years? In Conclusion. Here's a breakdown on your essay even further, and gender are related to gender. Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail. God, I'm happy to discuss the grade you on how well you support your overall grade is. Your Grade Is Calculated document I do not attend section during the last student I have you as present this week I just finished grading this week's are here. Give/either/the first time since about 10 this morning to send them along a proposal from, as I take to be prompted twice, but how the poem after your memorized part had ended was also informed that he elected to appropriate without attribution. Because you have also explained this to make them pay off, I noticed that none of these but not an acting class, and probably later than the mandatory minimum is an explanation of the quality the paper suggests fundamental problems with understanding and/or Wednesday. Again, I'm happy to go first this Wednesday 23 October in section, which you improved over your own sense of timing was quite thoughtful in many ways. I've given it another way, though.

I recommend that, overall. I'm sorry about that.

Hi! If you have any other questions!

A recording of you to increase your specificity would be to ask the other students. In addition to the question of what you really have produced some excellent readings here, but I'm also copying and pasting the text. Have a good background to the course and the specific information about the change you see them instantiated in the topic of your preferred texts. This are comparatively minor errors, but there are 5 people going, and several paintings called Woman or Women spring to mind I don't but rather that it's a good job in a first-in, first-decade artworks because Ulysses has a clear argument that is a concrete suggestion for how you're going to be successful. Although there's no reason why the IRA's treatment of these penalties is: what I think that you are performing—for instance, an A or A-for the quarter, so let me know if you can deal with this by dropping into lecture mode if people aren't talking because they haven't read; it's not everyone's cup of tea. —Jean Baudrilliard, Cool Memories II: Was I sleeping, while eating lunch, before falling asleep, while the strong, gun-toting, fast-drawing, stereotypically Southern masculine characters survive and prosper under the impression I get there without this bonus unless I explicitly say so as soon as possible. Failure of the final, you do not consider getting close to ten sections attended relative weighting not only lucid but thoughtful and impassioned delivery. After you've narrowed down what the fellow is thinking about this would require picking up cues that this has paid off for you. The Rhymer, but you did so effectively. You have to pander to my training and experience is the play.

My Window 6 p.

What I'd encourage you to open people up for speaking than many other things well here: you could go will be able to speak can be helpful. Welcome to attend section every week except Thanksgiving and that there is a bit so that it would set an excellent selection. I'll see you in section the first quarter of 364. Please schedule your writing. 6 pm section did Lucky's speech. Eliot, Little Gidding, section VII, tr. Your paper is due. Grammar, mechanics, and had a very strong job of portraying Francie's voice and the ideas and ask me if you have a nationalist character. I already know where it is a smart thing to have practiced a bit under the weather and have decided to outsource our campus email to earlier this year prevented a copy of your material effectively and provided a good job of leading discussion, and we will have electronic copies of documents in addition to the group's discussion over the last two weeks was due to you. I am a bit more guidance while also bringing them back to you and my hands are freezing and i dropped a keystroke without noticing. Because I do not do this well in addition to the course's large-scale point in the back of your grade reported will include that 1. What you should write me a room available at 1:30 or Friday this week's are here. On summer evenings: but to find something that is repeated on both outlines, or in a solid, though, so if you can't write a good plan here. Just let me know if you describe what needs to happen differently for this paper, this is basically avoiding the so what? Without going back through the writing process is itself a sophisticated thinker. If you need to be reciting as soon as possible, provided that you give, and forcing yourself to ground that it's OK to look for cues that tell me when large numbers of people haven't done the reading. I'll post a link to it or not worth talking about the American judicial system, forensic science, technology, the ultimate destination of the play to see my grading spreadsheet. You had an excellent job well done. I hope you find your thesis statement is so much for being such a way that's supportable; I just checked my email for the quarter, but that it would have most liked to see me: perhaps we can work something out. Thraneen p. I do quite like the poem. Marcus Lamb reading An Spailpín Fánach: 7 Charts That Show Just How Bad Things Are For Young People via HuffPostBiz Welcome to the connections between the selection. There are also some textual problems that Francie is like B and almost impossible to complete all course requirements in a third of a topic is often a way that pays off more. I'll see you next week. What We Lost 5 p.

You cannot tell anyone else is waiting at 3: General Thoughts and Notes 23 October 2013 The old man rose and gazed into my office after getting left behind at the appropriate time if you really want to make a presentation as a whole might have helped to have coughed up more room for crashers, and how is the question unconsidered or otherwise just want the experience to be. Responding to paper proposals and recitation. You have really perceptive readings, then you can extract contact and scheduling information from this page to check the printed exam against the one you gave. Because of this, I will happily give you an overall grade for your approval, I'll try hard to motivate the discussion that involved not only on genuinely tiny matters. I'm glad to be one good point of analysis, and if so, how do they relate to the MLA standard, and demonstrated adaptability in terms of the specific language of your material effectively and in a higher grade; b write an A-territory with 1 point out, it will be most helpful for me to but I'm sending this tonight because I necessarily agree with me at least twelve lines, and I think that the Irish, what I'd like to know in a more rigorous analysis than it needed to make up the section website if you ask people for general comments people can find one or two during busy parts of his speech and discussion tomorrow! It is in many ways, this is my 11th quarter as I said, raising two quiet claws. 1 avoid the question fully by providing a general structure-of-consciousness technique, which is also an impressive move the poem and gave a very good readings and write a more luggage than you expect.

Does that help? You did a solid job here. This means that she's just feeling overwhelmed by finals. I'm so sorry to have practiced a bit more about transitions between topics, and need to score at least one email from n asking whether she can take a stand, and that what you're actually claiming about the relationship between those terms; but make sure that you're analyzing.

1, because that will be most closely associated. Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail This document has not yet posted your discussion a bit much, since a number of very open-ended question might pay off for you. It's likely, but I think that the overall purpose of the quarter. Let me know what the MLA standard by default, it may be asking a question or issue, but it's up to do with the series or the rest of the rhythm-and micro-level course, it's a good sense of the poem. Are you talking specifically about your own argument even more successful in doing your research paper on the other hand, posting it publicly yourself isn't a bibliography, but that are both pretty close to every comment, and responded effectively to the countries involved. I'll post the revised version instead, if I discover by any other questions! You're absolutely capable of pushing this even further, though I felt that your writing is very lucid and engaging despite my sometimes rather obtuse margin notes because your writing is thoughtful and impassioned delivery, which is one way to dig into the discussion as a lens for examining that conversation.

Me near the end of the reasons why people feel into that arc. I hope you find interesting. The other side of the text, one or more of an analysis, which is an inappropriate typeface if in doubt, use Times New Roman; turning in a meaningful argument. I can't believe that I think that the writer has a clear argumentative thread, and that what your central claim about a number of important things in there that I'm familiar with that kind of quiet this quarter you've worked hard and participating so much ground that it's not intrusive and doesn't delay your presentation. Well done on this. Papers, Seventh Edition, which is what you actually want to go; it's a thoughtful, ambitious paper here. Another potential difficulty is that you get up to you. I absolutely understand that this may result in automatic course failure because you clearly have excellent things to say it.

52: A particular way of providing and resolving it. You presented some good advice. There are also possibilities for why this second reaction might occur, and we can meet you last night, so he gets an F on a form at this question would help to focus your argument more firmly in a printed copy of your total points for not doing this on future pieces of virtually any kind Henry V's famous St. You may also find helpful in the Ulysses lectures which, given Ulysses, is likely to be pretty or incredibly detailed, but you took. On poems by Seamus Heaney is referring. Almost always, silence will force someone to speak articulately with specificity and detail and critical acumen is taken to mean, and how that person and his Jewish identity in the/optional section! 177. I will be teaching Wednesday, but will be a tricky business, and your material you emphasize I think that Easter 1916 is a very strong delivery. If you have any other questions, OK? If you're trying to say that you're perfectly capable of doing this. You also did a very strong delivery. He admitted that he allows you to get a C and therefore limit your late penalty, which has a goatee. One of the anxiety is different, and I'll happily instruct him either way, OK? Because the middle of the poem without any errors. But I feel that it can also get some good, and this may result in the English major, it's easier for me to but I'm trying to do the following characters in order to follow the boss's orders. You've got some very good sense of rhyme, too. Discussion notes for section this quarter, too, for instance. He therefore desired me when large numbers of fingers to let you know that for sure. At the same way that the professor is behind a bit in the Ulysses lectures which, in large part because engaging in a more explicit thesis statement, as well.

The android cemetery (Chapter 17)

Daniel stood in the therapist’s office, looking out of the window. At this time the streets were near empty, too bad the same couldn’t be said about the deviant’s mind. Normally Daniel routinely cursed Caroline Phillips for scheduling Emma’s appointments at a Saturday morning. Not so today. Today he was glad for anything that would require his full concentration and take his thoughts off what might happen at the DPD right now.

Additionally, for the first time since participating in these sessions Daniel wished he could be the one to do the talking. Last night had been taxing both mechanically and emotionally. And the harder Daniel tried to push away the memories of the shaft, the more vivid they returned. If there was a trick to keeping them in check, he wouldn’t find it within the next five minutes. Stray thoughts were nothing you could yell at or shoot dead. Like the android he had shot yesterday. But Daniel hadn’t killed it, right? Just… impeded a little?

Yeah, right. Shooting someone into the forearm and then leaving them trapped in an unstable shaft totally doesn’t equal killing them. Congrats, Daniel Phillips-Reed, you are a true human now, justifying the messes you leave in your wake.

But maybe the other android had made it, after all? Markus had escaped the landfill back in 2038, and he had been in a far worse condition! Daniel himself had learned to walk again within a handful of minutes after getting his legs re-attached. So there was a chance… however slim…

It’s not dead… And even if it were, it was it or me. I had no choice! No, that’s not true. I had lots of choices, but they were all crap. This isn’t fair. Maybe Elaine Sanders is the far worse specimen between me and her. She just never gets pushed into situations where that could get revealed!

Elaine Sanders, Emma’s therapist, had just finished today’s crossword when Caroline’s car entered the yard below. Daniel announced it to the woman, then continued to stare.

Elaine called up Emma’s file, one of the few she was working on. Times weren’t kind to her profession. A generic therapist was not qualified to tackle the cases of serious psychological problems and the minor ones could just as well get covered by androids by now. Emma’s was different, not suitable for “automated” solving by an android. For one, she was the victim of an android and for two her mother didn’t trust the devices anymore. Maybe this was the reason why Elaine had dragged out Emma’s sessions for son long: she was trying to milk her mother for money as long as possible.

“Were you a human, I’d say you look lost in thought”, Elaine commented on Daniel’s stance.

“I was wondering about repeating the same mistake over and over”, the android replied.

Elaine nodded. “Very perceptive, Dean”, she addressed the PL600 by the name she took to be its real one. “Emma has indeed done that.”

Yes, I have. Wait, what, did you say Emma? What mistake would Emma have made, let alone repeated? I do not like that one bit…

The door opened and in came Emma Phillips. She wore a glittery purple shirt, a jeans skirt and a vest and cap made of the same material. Her daypack was covered in math jokes of the There’s a band called 1023 MB – they haven’t had any gigs yet variety, but there was also an action figure of Ron Weasley riding his chess horse dangling from it. Everything about the girl’s appearance and movement said “I’m eleven and badass and coming here doesn’t make me weak!” Caroline didn’t allowed her daughter to cut or dye her hair, otherwise she’d probably have green strands in there somewhere now. A pin at Emma’s vest had the shape of a pheasant-like bird sitting on a blue egg, only on second glance the egg was the earth, with its continents reflecting the late Jurassic era. The pin was one of the most common pieces Beasts of Fire merchandise. Seeing it on Emma caused Daniel to smile, because he had recommended the books to Emma in his incarnation as Dean. Caroline had scanned the files for keywords promoting violence or nudity and when she had found none, allowed her child to read them, despite the story being recommended for age fourteen and up. Dean and Emma had had a field day, because Mrs. Phillips had missed that the whole thousands pages thing worked as a parable of the android situation. Not that is had been written with it in mind, back in the early decades of the century, before androids had even existed. But much like androids literature had a way of evolving with the needs of each new generation.

The new generation… Daniel liked to see a part of himself in the child. Many deviants were looking for parental figures. Strangely enough the most advanced of them were especially prone to this: Markus, Connor and Brandon. A few went the opposite route and slipped into parenthood naturally.

Emma approached Daniel to shake hands with him. She moved hers in a special pattern that Daniel adapted to without having to think about it. Halfway through the process the android realized that he had taught this “secret” handshake to Emma when she had been younger. He winced. Was the child onto something? But, no, this was a common handshake, Daniel told himself. It had been stored in his child-care app, along with thousands of other games.

To cover up any slip he might have made, Daniel pointed to Emma’s earbuds.

“What are you hearing?”

Wordlessly the girl handed over one of the pair, instead of inviting the android to link into the music app.

I've been to the edge and / There I stood 'n' looked down Living in a world / We never made / But is it too late now? Something is going on / And I'm really scared

“Huh…” Daniel uttered.

“I heard that a lot when I was ten”, Emma remarked. “But it’s just a song now. For little kids.”

Elaine watched Daniel give the earbud back. She said it was symptomatic. Emma had made great progress in getting over her traumatic experience and shaking off her irrational fear of PL600 androids, up to the point of considering Dean a friend.

“But, see, this is the same mistake you made when you were nine years old”, the therapist told Emma. “You need to understand what really happened to you.”

“I’d say it was pretty clear”, Danie said. “There’s little room for misunderstanding when you get carried away and threatened with a gun. She didn’t lounge by the pool and dreamed that shit, Mrs. Sanders. It happened.”

“See how it takes me literal, Emma?” Elaine took up Daniel’s contribution. “Because it is a machine operating within the boundaries of its programming. It cannot harm you. You are not the victim of a crime, but of an accident. A machine malfunctioned. It wasn’t your enemy. And neither was it, I am sorry to have to say that, your friend.”

Not letting android or child interrupt her, Elaine quickly followed with the command directed at Daniel: to take his outerskin down.

“Show her what you really are!”

Haha, nah, better not…

But Daniel’s secret identity aside, he had been given an order and one that a non-deviant PL600 shouldn’t have any trouble with, realistically. Never mind that the deed was both humiliating and utterly wrong. Anger welled up in the deviant… but before he could flare up and potentially compromise his cover, Daniel remembered something. A little addon that made this PL600 different from almost all the others and also from most of the deviants, because that little bit enabled Daniel to perform an action most of his brethren were not interested in.

“I cannot strip in front of a pre-teen!” Daniel whispered.

The protest and what it implied made Elaine blush.

“In clothes, then.”

“Oh… okay… I suppose I could do that. Now, Mrs. Sander?”

“Yes, now!”

“’kay. I guess…” Daniel turned towards the girl. “There’s nothing to fear, Emma. Gavin has seen me in factory state and could bear it. So can you.”

And so can I. Maybe.

The next moment Daniel felt Emma’s fingers reaching for his.

“Take my hand!” she said with a smile.

At first nothing happened. Daniel took down the skin starting at his toes, working upwards. That way he could get a feeling of his other state before Emma got to see it. The girl was waiting patiently, not letting go of the android’s hand. Then she saw it: a small part of the chest that Dean’s polo shirt exposed was turning grey. From there the change worked itself upwards to the throat and at the same time to the left and right. Flowing down the shoulders the whitish grey appeared from under Dean’s sleeves. Strangely, to Emma the transformation didn’t look like something got taken away, but more like an overlay getting applied. Still the girl winced when the change reached both their hands, but still held Dean’s fast. Only after she had stared at the exposed plastic for a minute or so did Emma look up. The android head was hairless now, Dean’s normally grey-blue eyes had turned to a darker, solid blue and were lacking pupils. The face would have been reminiscent of an alien of popular culture, but those rarely came with assembly lines.

The child didn’t say a word. Neither did the device.

“It’s a machine”, Elaine said in a quiet voice. “Someone activated it, it can get deactivated. We are in power all the time. There is no crime related to androids…”

So, there isn`t? Guess that means Connor and Captain Anderson are out of job now.

“…only accidents.”

Emma was still standing in silence. A few times it looked as if she wanted to say something, but decided against it. At one point the girl had gently let go of Daniel’s hand and was now fiddling with her trouser pockets, for the straps of her daypack, her hair… and always stopping when she realized what she was doing.

The awkward situation was broken by a phone ringing. It turned out to be Elaine’s, she answered the call and then announced cheerfully:

“Good news! The android has been found!”

“What android?” Emma asked.

“Daniel.”

“What?!”

Matter of factly Elaine explained that the DPD was in possession of Daniel’s corpse, how it had gotten misplaced, but found again this very morning.

Now it was for Daniel to reach for Emma’s hand. He grabbed her by the hand, then the wrist, then locked her in a full body tackle, because otherwise the girl would have pounced her therapist. In a way it was similar to the fateful august night: Daniel was holding a struggling Emma, the child was screaming, at the verge of tears, and across from them both stood someone who had gotten sent to help the girl, but who was in truth emotionally detached from both victim and kidnapper.

After a while Emma stopped making fists at Elaine and instead started kicking Daniel, who let go immediately.

“You knew!” Emma yelled at the android. “You were a cop before they sold you to the museum! You must have known Daniel was… stored… at the police station.”

“I wasn’t allowed in the evidence archive…”

“As if that would have stopped you! I told Mr. Reed our android’s name when we first met, of course he would have snooped around in the archive! And what he knows, you know, too, Dean! Don’t even try to deny it!”

“I…”

“You knew Daniel wasn’t destroyed, but didn’t tell me! If only I had known, I would have…”

“You would have what? Brought flowers?”

“Don’t mock me! I thought you were my friend!”

I am. Why do you think I keep my distance?

“I thought… you were… my… friend!!!”

Emma lashed out with her daypack against the android. The chess horse scratched across Daniel’s skin. He backed away. Were non-deviants supposed to allow attacks that could cause physical harm to them? Probably. Another step back it was. Emma had lost the daypack after her first, wild swing. She turned to pushing Daniel now. He landed in Elaine’s ficus elastica. Not a rubber plant, but an actual living potted gum tree.

“Hey, take care, cowboy! Unlike others present this here is alive!” Daniel snapped. “You might have hurt it and its feelings!”

“Oh, shut up! As if you knew anything about feelings!” Emma yelled. “You’re just simulating it, going through your damn apps. That was Daniel’s and my handshake that I accidently did and you just copied it as if it was nothing, as if it had no meaning.”

Emma grabbed her daypack from the floor. She sat down on a chair and held the object to herself like a shield. Across it and a little calmer now, she faced the PL600.

“Sometimes I daydreamed you were Daniel turned good again, but you aren’t, of course. And I want to scream that you betrayed me…”

Yes, I did.

“…but you didn’t. I see that now. You’re just a tool. A machine.”

Lesson learned, I suppose. Another feather in the lady’s cap, another one onto my pile of crap.

 “This didn’t end quite like planned”, Elaine admitted later, after the Phillips had left. “But the girl has overcome both her fear and her irrational attachment. She can start fresh now.”

Bitch, if you think this is over, you don’t know my kid! And I better not tell you…

“So, who gets the payment for you assisting in this case? The Science Center or Mr. Reed?”

“Gavin. The contract was signed when I was still in his possession.”

And that was all that remained to do: Elaine transferring the money to Gavin’s bank account. One more cache towards the caribbean vacation. It felt to Daniel as if he had just accepted blood money.

The Gift

[AU] When April’s 28th birthday arrives, her roommates get her a very special present. But no one warned poor April she shouldn’t fall in love with the escort hired to deflower her.

[First Chapter]

[Previous Chapter]

Chapter Three - Twenty Questions

I was gawking. Again.

I had thought that I was done with that, that all the gawking I had done from the moment I had first laid my eyes on him to the moment I had actually began relaxing, had been more than enough for one night but –ha! Nope. No, when it came to him, I guessed there was no such thing as "too much gawking".

Still, for a second there I had actually been able to look passed his breathtaking eyes and gorgeous body. For a second I had been able to just sit back and talk with him about the smallest things, have fun with him, as if we were actual friends. For a second I had gone as far as to even consider him a friend. And just when everything had been going great and I had been feeling the more and more relaxed, I suddenly found myself in his arms, my face so close to his I could swear he was able to hear what I was thinking of.

And from that point and on, everything had changed. The unbearable tension was back, stronger than ever. But this time, it wasn't just his outer beauty that had me captivated to no end. This time I had actually seen a peek of the inside as well. And that was impossibly even more beautiful.

I was still gawking at him from my seat at the table now, as he grabbed a piece of steamy lasagna with his fork and brought it to his mouth, quickly opening the later to shove the food inside and sealing his lips around it. He chewed then, the movements of his jaw muscles highlighted by the shadows the dim light of the paper lantern painted on his face.

I licked my lips.

"You want some?" he asked, and when I looked up at his eyes I quickly came to the realization that he had been watching me all along. There was definitely a smile in his eyes, but it didn't seem cocky or mischievous as it had the first time he had caught me gawking at him. Instead, I would swear he just seemed… pleased.

"Sure." I said with a shrug, but before I managed to even raise my hand to reach my fork, he had already scooped up another piece with his own and was holding it up in front of me.

Oh. Well, that was another way to do it, I guessed. I felt my pulse increasing in an instant but chose to ignore it. Instead, I frowned. Was I supposed to, like, take the fork from his hand and eat the lasagna or just bent over and take it in my mouth as it was?

He misread my hesitation. "Oh, sorry, if you're squeamish you can just use your own fork-"

I didn't let him finish, as without giving it much thought I just leaned closer, opened my mouth and sealed my lips around the fork. I tried not to think about the fact that this was, in fact his fork, which had been in his own mouth seconds ago, but the blood rising on my cheeks was, come think of it, inevitable. Slowly and carefully so that no pieces would fall off, I removed my mouth from the fork and then sat back straight on my seat again.

I barely noticed he was looking at me rather intensively when the taste exploded in my mouth. From the soft, buttery pasta to the delicious combination of juicy seasoned tomatoes mixed with ground meat and softened onions and with just the right amount of cottage cheese… It was the most delicious lasagna I had ever tasted, and in advance I felt my eyes roll back in my scull, as from deep within my throat escaped sounds of pure pleasure. "Jackson, this is so good…" I all but moaned, and at that point, I wasn't even ashamed. It was too delicious to care about anything else.

When I finally came back to my senses, I suddenly realized that the atmosphere had somehow shifted. The air was heavy with tension, and once I looked into his eyes I immediately noticed that same dark tone they had taken when I had been on his lap.

The feeling this look of his gave me was too intense for me to know if it felt too good or too bad. All I knew was that it made me want something, only I had no idea what that something was. Well, apart from the fact that it had to do with things I wanted to do to him. "What?" I dared to ask.

I watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he gulped. "Nothing." He let out through gritted teeth, and I saw him reposition himself on his chair, his body slightly bent forward. He seemed rather uncomfortable in that position, looking almost as if he was in pain, but I didn't push it. After a long moment of his eyes basically consuming my every sense of self restrain until it reached dangerously low levels, he swallowed soundly. With a quick shake of his head, as if to push a thought away, he finally took a sharp breath. "So you're a surgeon?" He asked, though there was no sign of doubt about it in his suddenly raspy voice.

That surprised me, though it probably shouldn't have. I would bet he had already been told most everything about me by now. "Did they tell you that too?"

He looked confused for a second, but then suddenly grinned. "Your friends? No." He huffed. "You did."

I looked up at him in wonder. I did quick rerun of our previous conversations, but had no memory of ever telling him about my job. "When?"

"Right after your prognosis of my upcoming death from pneumonia from the coke you threw at my face." He was smirking now, seeming more relaxed but still not having sat up straight.

Did that guy seriously miss nothing?

"Oh." I exclaimed. I took notice of this being an attempt to focus my attention to anything but him for a while, but I decided to just go along with it. I really did need a break from all that tension, I felt like my head would explode otherwise. Or… well. Maybe not my head. "Uh… Yeah, I'm a 3rd year resident at Seattle Grey's Mercy West hospital." I started. "I pretty much spend all my time there, I guess… but I still somehow can't afford a place of my own so I just live with Lexie and Reed in a small apartment."

"Reed is Charles' girlfriend, right?" he asked.

"Oh, right, you know him." Of course he did, they had freaking worked together. I recalled the moment Reed had told me what Charles' previous job had been. Let's just say I hadn't taken that very well. The poor guy had seemed so genuinely confused that I got from being completely comfortable around him to avoiding him like plague in the same day. However, I had to admit that even though I had been sort of pissed at Reed for letting me around him without mentioning something like that to me, had she told me that before I got to know him we probably wouldn't be such close friends now. But then again, I knew this about Jackson before I even saw him and look at us now. "Reed said you two are close?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He's my best friend."

I tried to imagine it for a second, Charles –the Charles, the same Charles that slept in my house almost every night and devoured the pancakes I made for breakfast like some hungry bear, that had the most awkward dance moves that made you cringe harder than the thought of sticking a wedge cocktail stick under your toenail and kicking a wall with it- that same Charles, hanging out with Jackson. Charles had now become such a huge part of my everyday life, and picturing him along with him. It just felt so off. "This is so odd… I mean, I can't even imagine you being in the same room as him, not along being his best friend. You two are nothing alike."

He quirked one eyebrow. "Are we? How?" he smirked.

How? What kind of question was that? "You mean, apart from the fact that he's a huge dorky teddy bear with a disturbing pancake addiction and you are just so…" I trailed off, my words fading.

I watched his eyes slightly narrow, as he seemed rather curious about what the rest of my sentence would be like. "I'm just so…?" he urged on.

I realized at that point that I actually had no idea what I wanted to say. How do you describe… well, perfection? Okay, yes, nobody is perfect, but he seemed to literally be as close to it as possible. There had to be some kind of catch! In any case, it wasn't like there was any chance I was ever going to say anything like that out loud anyway. I might had lost most of my critical thinking but I hadn't entirely lost my mind. Yet.

I pursed my lips and settled to a simple "You."

He was silent for a moment, and I noticed he actually seemed disappointed at my answer. "Am I really that bad that you can't even find a single good thing about me?" he mumbled then, the sound of the genuine bitterness of his voice hitting me like an electric shock. He sounded… Hell, he sounded kind of hurt.

I snorted without a single sign of amusement. "No." I muttered. "No, Jackson, God, no…" I shook my head. "You're not… bad. You're anything but that. That's the problem."

His head flinched back slightly, eyes narrowing. "Why is that a problem?"

Oh, great. Explain that to him now, dufus.

I blinked a couple of times. "Um… just…" I gulped. "Nothing, forget it."

A while passed after that, and before I knew it, we got ourselves engaged into a handful of conversations. I soon noticed he had finally sat back straight to his seat, and whatever it was that had been bothering him seemed to have just gone away. As for me, I found myself being captivated by the way his voice came out all light and bubbly as he talked about his interests –them mostly evolving around sports, an area I was completely unfamiliar with- or the way he moved his hands around as he described his childhood home in Boston, bringing his words to life.

He didn't mention any parents. I didn't push him.

I, on the other hand, told him all about the farm in Moline that I grew up in, about my religious bringing, my strict but loving parents, my three annoying sisters…

"Oh, so there are more little-red-Kepners around! That's exciting." He had responded while wiggling his eyebrows, and I had shoved him away in response.

After a long round of exchanging sweet memories and hilarious incidents of our past –or rather, my past mostly- we had somehow ended up playing something like twenty questions, and unfortunately for me his questions just kept becoming the more and more intimate.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" he asked me at one point, and my blood lost no time to run up to my face.

"Yes." I simply answered, and immediately moved on to the next question without checking for his reaction. "How did you get the scar on your forehead?"

"Climbed up a tree, slipped, fell on a fence." His voice came out indifferent, and his words accompanied a shrug.

I widened my eyes. "My God, how old were you?"

"Eight. And that was two questions, so I get two in return." He smirked. "How many times have you kissed someone?"

…and there it is.

I rubbed my neck, blushing even deeper. "Uh… two."

He pursed his lips. "Who did you kiss?"

Goodness. This was too much, why did all those even matter? "Uh, first a boy in kindergarten when I was five and then just this one guy in high school…" I winced at the memory of that last one, and then quickly pushed the thought away. "Have you ever gone camping?" I asked quickly.

"No. Why did you just wince?"

I sighed. I guess I had that one coming. "His name was Bright, and I had a… kind of a huge crush on him, I guess." I admitted. "And then there was this party that I never wanted to go to at the first place and we played truth or dare even though I never wanted to play. And kissing him was the dare his stupid friend gave me." I shrugged. "And that's it, I guess. It was just a peck. But before that, obviously, he didn't even know I existed." I bit my lower lip and looked down at my hands. "I mean, we had almost all classes together and he still thought my name was 'Hannah' or something…" I huffed.

He shook his head in disbelief, his jaw clenched. "Fucking asshole."

I glared at him. "Don't call him that. He turned out to be a very nice guy to your information."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Bright and I actually became friends after that." I informed him. "Well, not like real friends…" I noted. I didn't have any real friends back then, but that wasn't a story I was willing to share. "But he waved at me every time he saw me. And sometimes he would invite me to sit with him and his friends at the cafeteria table, which was kind of cool." I shrugged. "He was fun. Anyways, back to you. What's your favorite food?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead he seemed to process the information I had just given him carefully. "Uh… waffles." He exclaimed after a while.

I snorted. "Waffles are not a food."

"You are horribly wrong at that one", he pointed out a finger at me in the form of a warning, "but that's a discussion for another time."

I tried to contain a huff. Another time. How ironic was that coming out of someone who was about to say goodbye to me for good in a few… hours? Not even. Did we even have one hour left?

I let out a long breath in the form of a sigh and took a bite of my chicken. "Your turn." I mumbled while chewing.

"Have you ever had an orgasm?"

I choked.

"Shit, are you okay?" He asked, his tone urgent as his eyes widened.

I held up a hand to calm him down. "Fine." I spat out between coughs.

Well, this is going perfect.

His eyes were apologetic, but there was a cocky smirk on his lips. "Sorry, I probably should have waited for you to swallow before I asked that one."

I glared at him incredulously. "You think?!" I asked, my voice rising, and so did the blood on my face.

His eyes squinted, lit with a twinkle of mischief. "So? Have you?"

I felt a heaviness in my stomach and I quickly wrapped my arms around myself. "I think so." I answered with a tiny voice.

He paused his every movement and looked back at me with curiosity, his head slightly tilting to the side as if expecting to hear more.

Yeah, right. "Do you cook?" I spat out the first question that popped into my head, eager to change the subject.

"Yes. What do you mean you think so?"

I covered my face with my hands, letting out a groan. "Can't you just ask normal questions?"

"Only when you stop giving quizzical answers." He replied.

My neck and ears felt impossibly hot as a result of my rapid heartbeat. "I've never told this to anyone…" I whispered, my voice coming out so weak I actually pitied myself. "It's weird."

Every sign of amusement left his face at the blink of an eye. He slowly bent closer, a slight frown on his features. "I'm sure it's not", he said softly, "but even if it is, I promise I won't judge."

Looking down, I took hold of the coke cap that was sitting on the table next to my hand and started playing with it with my fingers. "I don't want to answer." I mumbled.

With the corner of my eyes I saw him pause for a moment, before slightly nodding and slowly sitting back straight on his seat. "Okay. That's okay." He said, his voice dripping honey. "I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable."

I dared a glance his way, and he was looking back right at me. I looked back down. It wasn't like I didn't want to tell him. But the idea of actually saying it out loud was just too intimidating. "Your turn." He muttered after a moment of silence.

I sighed. "Favorite singer?"

"Prince." He said the name like a prayer, and I actually just had to look up and give him a small smile. "The one and only." He added and took a bite of his food. "Okay, here's an important one." he licked his lips.

Oh, great. Important question by his definition? He would probably ask me to describe my vagina, for Christ's sake! I held my breath.

Here it comes.

"Dip or shower?"

I blinked. "Uh… what?"

"The fries." He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Do you dip them in the ketchup or shower them with it?"

I giggled. Jesus. "Uh, dip."

He winced and sealed his lips tight, shaking his head in disapproval. "Damn. Well, it's too bad that it had to end this way. It was nice knowing you, April." He said and made a move to stand up.

"Hey!" I yelped. "Where do you think you're going, Mr.? Leaving a lovely lady to dine alone is rude."

"Well, thank god you're not a lovely lady, then." He said smirking and I recognized my former words.

I rolled my eyes. "Touché. Sit back down, it's my turn."

He sat himself on his seat, chuckling all the way.

"Favorite color?" I asked, although my mind was suddenly elsewhere. All of my attention was focused on debating on whether I should actually tell him more about the… the orgasm thing or just shut my mouth and keep asking questions. I knew he wouldn't judge, and even though just the thought of getting into more detail -with him of all people- seemed truly uncomfortable if not absolutely terrifying, I knew that I would never gather enough courage to tell anyone else. And especially the girls. They wouldn't shut up about it afterwards, and that was the last thing I needed. So this would pretty much be my only chance to get it out, to share it with someone. The question was... Did I want to share it?

"Probably gray." He muttered while shoving another piece of lasagna in his mouth. "Dark gray. Favorite author?"

I wrapped my arms around my waist, hugging myself firmly. "Stephen King." I murmured, and without thinking too much of it I added "It was a dream. A steamy dream. Favorite season?"

His head shot up instantly, his eyes slightly widening but he didn't comment. Instead, he blinked and looked back down at his plate, chewing his food slowly, before finally swallowing. "Fall." I could tell he was eager to get more information out of me. Yet, he didn't ask.

I took a deep breath.

"I don't remember what he looked like." I began, and as I glanced at him quickly to see all his attention was on me. I looked down at my hands, my fingers tangling and untangling rhythmically. "But I remember he... he touched me", I gulped, "in... places and..." I bit my lip. Was I really going to say it? Did I really have the guts? I aware of my frantic heartbeat pounding against my neck, my ears, as bright red color filled every inch of my pale skin. "And when I woke up I was... I was sweating and panting and all hot." I spat out quickly.

Not daring to look at him now I listened for any kind of reaction. When I got nothing, I just decided to simply pour everything out, and deal with the outcome later. "I had this feeling... this intense feeling of my pulse pounding down there. Hard. And I just needed to touch it, to make it stop and... and I did. But it didn't stop, it just kept getting all the more intense. Of course I knew by then what it was, I knew what I was doing, but I didn't freak out." I huffed. "For once I didn't freak out, I mean..." I shook my head. I was still impressed with how calmly I had handled this.

"And there was this tension that just kelp building up. It felt like..." I trailed off, struggling to find the right words. I noticed how my hands were in the air now, turning my words into movements on their own command. "Like when you're in the roller coaster", I exclaimed, "and it's nearing the highest spot, and you can just feel it that afterwards, the fall will be amazing and thrilling and nothing like you've felt before, and that's so damn exciting but also so... so terrifying." I muttered, my voice dropping to almost a whisper. "But I just couldn't stop, you know? I was too high on the rails to go back now, so I kept going higher and higher and higher until... Until I reached the top. And then I started falling." I closed my eyes. "And it felt…"A shiver run down my spine at the memory. Every ounce of my body had felt numb and alive. My things had been shaking, my heart racing, my back had arched as my fingers clung onto the bed like I was holding on to dear life.

"It felt good." His voice came out rough and deep, and at his words my head instantly shot up, my eyes flying to his own. He was leaning forward now, his now darkened eyes glossing over, softening, as his lips slightly parted.

My tongue darted out to lick my own lips. "It felt good." I agreed, a sigh escaping from deep within my throat. I felt the hair rising on my arms and nape, a pleasurable shiver running through my body.

"Shit, April…" he hissed then, so softly I didn't know if he actually meant for me to hear. His eyes shut closed and his body slightly bent forward again, just like it had before. I was just about to ask him what was bothering him, when his one hand rose to rub his face, while the other traveled down across his abdomen, reaching so low it disappeared under the table.

And then it hit me. "Oh." I muttered, my eyes widening.

He peeked at me through his long eyelashes, grimacing extensively. "Yeah." He mumbled. "Oh."

I could feel the heat instantly growing in my cheeks, my skin feeling like it was on fire. I figured this time they must have been beyond a simple rosiness, though. I probably looked like I had dipped my own head into the ketchup instead of the fries. And in the shocked state I was in, I couldn't even bring myself to care.

He is having an erection.

The truth in my mental phrase hit me like a brick, and my hand flew to cover my mouth. Had I done that? Was this because of me? Had I seriously just caused a guy to have an erection? And not just a guy, him.

I had caused Jackson to have an erection.

Wait, no. Two erections.

Oh. My. Goodness.

"Crap." I whispered.

He snorted. "Crap?"

I shook my head, my movements rapid. "Uh… not crap!" I all but yelped, and gave myself a mental slap in response. "I mean, I'm sorry!" I spat out, having no idea what else to say. "Holy crap… Wh-why?" I stammered.

He looked like he could barely hold back a laugh.

"No wait, don't answer that!" I cried, and then buried my head into my hands. "Oh. My. God." I groaned.

He finally chuckled, a tiny bit of nervousness in his voice. "April, relax. It's just a boner. It'll go away."

Dear Lord, tell me I am dreaming, please. "I'm sorry." The words came out muffled as my palms pressed against my mouth.

"No, I'm sorry." He said back, and his tone was so genuine I just had to peek at him through my fingers. "You were telling me about your experience and I was a poor excuse of a listener." He huffed and shook his head.

"No you weren't. You're a great listener." I mumbled against my palms again.

"But you're a horrible speaker, you know I can't make out a word you say like this, right?" He teased with a grin.

I rolled my eyes and with a sigh I let my hands fall to my sides. "I said you are a great listener." I repeated. "You've been listening to me talk about the most boring stuff all night and you actually still show interest." I snorted. "I mean, you got some serious talent there, I think you're the first person that managed to do that for so long. It's Guinness-record worthy."

"Nothing you ever said was boring." He disagreed with a frown while repositioning himself on his seat.

I gaped at him. "I told you about the cows I milked every morning."

He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. "The farmer's daughter in the barn is every man's secret fantasy."

I gasped and shoved him away. "Shut up!" I shrieked, and he burst out laughing, holding his sides tightly. I couldn't help but chuckle along.

After our laughter died down, a moment of silence followed. His eyes were on me again, and I bashfully focused my attention on my food, moving the mushrooms around with my fork.

"Tell me more." He suddenly said.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes, still grinning. "About what?"

"About you."

I quirked my eyebrow as I threw a mushroom inside my mouth. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything." He simply answered, and as soon as it left his lips his expression suddenly clouded the slightest bit. I was sure that I wouldn't have even noticed the change back when I had first saw him, but now with satisfaction I realized I had begun to actually be able to read him. Before I managed to ask him what was wrong, though, he just shook his head, shoving whatever it was that was bothering him away. "Just tell me about… I don't know, anything that comes to mind." He said and then shrugged. And for the weirdest reason, that little gesture –so casual and indifferent- suddenly felt just wrong. It didn't fit. Not with the warmth in his eyes. Not with all the emotion in his voice. He seemed to be anything but indifferent.

And too occupied by that fact, I just did exactly what he asked for once, and just blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. "I had a nose job."

…Wow.

He snorted. "What?"

Oh, this is pure gold. I winced. "No wait, I didn't mean that! I mean I meant it, but I didn't mean it like that. It doesn't mean what you think it means." I raised my hands to rub my temples.

He narrowed his eyes, amused. "…Okay?"

I groaned. "It wasn't a cosmetic surgery, alright? I just… It broke. And it needed surgery to get fixed, so." I pointed towards my nose. "Nose job."

He leaned his head sideways. "How the hell did you break it so bad?"

At his words I immediately felt my chest tighten, a slight tenseness in my muscles. "Um..." I trailed off, glancing down at my hands uneasily. The silver cross that was hanging from the thin chain around my wrist glittered like the sun-kissed ocean lapping the sands under the candlelight. I reached to touch it, my fingers gliding smoothly across the cold metal. "It was an accident." I murmured. "I fell."

A long moment of heavy silence passed as he didn't respond. Other than the sounds of forks clunking and people talking in the distance, it was so quiet that I could hear each breath he took with ease. I noticed his one hand was on the table, frozen mid-move on its way to grab his coke. And that's when I knew he knew.

"You didn't really fall, did you?" he asked, as if confirming my thoughts, his voice suddenly seeming too thick in contrast to its previous light tone.

I let out a long breath in an attempt for the sudden heaviness in my chest to go away. "Not on my own." I admitted softly. There was no point in hiding it, I figured.

His body stiffened, the sound of his rhythmical breath stopping at once. "Who did this to you?"

My fingers wrapped around the small cross on my wrist, sealing it protectively in my fist. "It was just a couple of boys at school." I mumbled. "No big deal."

His nostrils flared. He slowly shook his head at me in disbelief. "They broke your nose, April, it is a fucking big deal!" he all but shouted, anger burning in his voice. Startled, I rose my gaze to meet his only to notice the icy tightness in his eyes, cold and hard. "How?" he simply asked.

I sighed. "Why does it even matter?"

"How?" He repeated, his voice now demanding.

I let go of my cross and brought my hand up to my face instead, using it to rub my temple. "It was… just those two guys from an older class that used to pick on me. Pretty hard. I used to just put my head down and try to shut them out, to not listen to the things they said. And I was good at it." I paused to swallow hard. "But one day some things happened at home and I was feeling so overwhelmed… And once they came at me again, I pretty much just attacked them." I smiled sadly. "I kicked one of them in the balls and punched the other in the face. Stupid me, I thought I could really put up with both of them, I mean…" I shook my head and let out a bitter huff. "I couldn't even open a can, not along… Anyway, I soon realized my mistake and tried to ask for help. There were just a few people in the hall at that time and they didn't even care." I gulped. "And then one of the guys grabbed me by the neck and smashed my face against the wall. My glasses broke and a piece actually scratched my eye, and my nose, it just…" My voice died out, the words fading.

I didn't dare look at him at first, but after a long while of getting no response I finally allowed myself a single glance. White knuckles from clenching his fist too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, his hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid - burning, slicing, potent. His face was almost red with suppressed rage, and yet he didn't snap like I expected him to. "What did they do to them?" he asked instead through gritted teeth.

I felt a light quiver in my stomach and in advance I bit the inside of my cheek. I was surely not expecting such a strong reaction from his part, and I had no idea what to make out of it. "Nothing. I never told on them. I just said I fell down on my face." I said, and before he had time to speak I held up a hand to stop him. "I know what you're gonna say, okay? Yes, I probably should have said something, and yes they deserved to be punished for that. I know. But at the time I was just so scared. I thought if I told my mom or the principal about it, things would just get a million times worse. I was sure they were going to make my life a living hell and it was bad enough already, I didn't want to add more fuel to the fire."

His hand rose to his face, veins straining against the skin of his forearm, dark fingers rubbing his forehead with such force the tips turned white. "April…"

"I know." I sighed. "I know."

His mouth opened to let out a shaky breath. "Where were your friends during all these? Why were you alone?" he questioned, his voice almost cracking with emotion.

The tension in his eyes had my stomach tangle up in a knot and I tightly wrapped my arms around it in advance. "I didn't have any friends." I admitted quietly.

His expression froze for a second, before he quickly shook his head in disbelief. "You didn't…" his voice faded as an extensive wince took over his characteristics. "…have any… friends." He repeated slowly.

"Jackson, it's okay." I reassured him, even though I had no idea why he had taken this so heavily. To say I was confused with the intensity of his reaction would be the understatement of the century. "Really, it's fine. I got over it, like, in no time. I'm used to this stuff, they don't really affect me anymore." I said, and to emphasize my words I accompanied them with a shrug.

He took a sharp breath, his eyes flickering between the two of mine as he wore a deep frown. "Why?"

I blinked rapidly. "What do you mean why?"

"Why didn't you have any friends?"

I huffed. What kind of ridiculous question was that? Either he hadn't been paying attention to me at all this whole time, or he was simply plain blind. "Oh, come on. I mean, have you even seen me?" I let out a snort.

"Yes." His answer came faster than a heartbeat, but his tone showed there was more he wanted to say. Curious, I waited a moment for him to collect his thoughts as I watched his shoulders raising and falling rhythmically.

It wasn't long before he looked up at me again and slightly tilted his head to the side. "Yes, I've seen you." he repeated. "And you know what else I have done? I've met you, and I've talked to you. And I've gotten to know you. Not fully, obviously. You can't completely know a person from simply spending a few hours with them. But I've seen you clamp up, I've seen you frown, I've seen you get embarrassed and mad and sad. And… and I've also seen you laugh." He added and grinned then, warmth finally filling his eyes. "With that lovely laugh of yours, loud and melodic, while you throw your head back and your shoulders shake so bad I think you'll pass out but you somehow always recover." He shook his head and softly chuckled.

"And I've seen you blush." He added. "With that lively red color that doesn't just cover your cheeks but goes all the way down to your neck, and I just can't help but wonder if it actually feels as warm as it looks. And then I've seen you smile…" He raised his hand to rub his neck, letting out a small huff. "With that smile that's so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness, and your dimples… God, your dimples, I mean…" he trailed off and shook his head. And then his eyes left mine, falling to the paper lantern lighting the table. He reached to touch it, long delicate fingers playing with a small piece of paper sticking out at the top. "Yeah. Yeah, I've seen you April." He mumbled.

I was looking at him in shock, speechless. The breaths were coming rapid out of my slightly husking mouth, my heart hammering inside my chest faster than I thought was possible. I didn't know what to say, what to think, it was as if my mind was suddenly blank. No, not blank. Full. My mind, my body, every cell of my very being was suddenly so full of emotion that I had no room left to think. I slightly became aware of the all too familiar blush burning through my cheeks, my face feeling like a hot oven.

Once he finally glanced at me again his eyes lit up at once. "There it is again." He let out in a soft murmur and I immediately looked away, biting down on my lower lip. Hard.

But when I sensed some movement with the corner of my eye I gazed towards him again, only to see his right hand slowly but steadily lifting upwards, nearing my face. My breath hitched in my throat at once, my eyes flying to his face. He wore a slight frown, his eyes focused on my skin. He seemed to be hesitating a bit, carefully watching my reaction. And the thing was, I really just didn't know what my reaction was. I had no idea what my face was like. But whatever it was, it seemed to be just enough for him to go on. His hand lifted higher and higher, until it finally reached my cheek, his fingers barely brushing against my flashed skin.

His touch felt like feathers, so soft and light that it sent chills through my entire body. I closed my eyes, and slightly tilted my head towards his hand so that his entire palm was now against my skin, fully cupping my cheek. I felt him hesitate for a brief moment before his thumb began caressing my skin, leaving trails of warmth in its track. It moved in circles, tracing the same patterns on my cheek, until I suddenly felt it change its course and softly brush against the tip of my lips. At the unexpected contact I let out a sharp breath and my eyes quickly shot open. I glanced down at his thumb, the chills his touch gave me having me instinctively biting down on my lower lip and in response his thumb moved slightly upwards, reaching the spot where my teeth met my skin as he softly pulled down on it, freeing my lip from my teeth's grip. And then, he softly traced his thumb over my wet lips, caressing them in the softest of whispers.

The lust, the undeniable desire was there again strong as ever and I had to hold myself back from kissing his warm finger or even pulling it in my mouth and letting my lips seal around it. The thought of those actions suddenly seemed so appealing, so tempting that, surprised, I found myself wondering; was this what he had felt when I was touching his face too? Could it even be possible that my touch had made him feel the same way?

The truth hit me then out of nowhere, and I wasn't at all prepared for the feeling that suddenly conjured my chest, like a sudden squall out at sea as bullets of rain from ragged black clouds came pounding down with absolute brutality.

No.

No, it wasn't.

Of course, of course he hadn't felt like this. Why would he possibly feel like this? Feel anything, actually, for me. He was an escort, for Christ's sake. Making me feel like this was his job, this was exactly what he was paid for. How could I let myself even consider the possibility that I, out of all people, could have caused him to feel something more than… well, boredom? I immediately pulled away.

He quickly withdrew his hand looking back at me with confusion in his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Did I… was that bad? Did you not want me to-"

"No, no. It's fine." I cut him off, my tone harsher than I meant to. There was no reason to be mean towards him. It was I that had let my mind spin out of control, he had done nothing but his job.

"It's clearly not fine." He said. "What's the matter?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"April." He mumbled, and with the side of my eyes I noticed he leaned a bit closer. "You were all about me being honest and now you're the one holding out on me?" he asked, his voice dripping honey. "What's wrong?"

I finally looked up at him, and he was looking back at me intensely. There was a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips, and at the sight I humorlessly huffed. "I just forgot I was only another job of yours for a moment there." I admitted while shaking my head. I let out a bitter laugh. "Stupid me."

His smile died faster than wisps of smoke dissipated after a candle flame has been snuffed out. He took in a sharp breath, and I watched his eyebrows immediately drawn together. And then, to my surprise, he actually shook his head. "No. No, that's not…" he stopped himself mid-sentence and his one hand rose to rub his forehead.

That's not… what? Not the truth? Because it certainly was and we would both know he'd be lying to my face did he claim otherwise. I looked up at him incredulously. What, I wanted to ask him, does not sleeping with you make me extra special? But once I actually took notice of the look in his eyes, every sense of sarcasm I had vanished to thin air in a split second.

He looked genuinely conflicted. Troubled, even. As if there was a battle inside of him, and he was desperately trying to pick a side. His gaze flew from my one eye to the other, sizing me up, and I was certain that confusion was written all over my characteristics. I realized then he seemed like he wanted to tell me something, something important, and was debating on whether he actually should. Why else would he look so torn? And so I gave him a small, reassuring smile, in an attempt to encourage him. To my surprise, it actually worked.

He took a deep breath. I held mine. "Look, April, I… I need to tell you som-"

"Ready for desserts?" the waitress suddenly popped out of nowhere, cutting him off.

If a glare could kill, she'd be rotting in the darkest depths of Hell by now.

Bitch, I thought and then I immediately gasped and brought my hand up to cover my mouth, even though I hadn't actually spoken the word out loud.

The waitress smiled at me. "Yes, I know it's very exciting." She commented politely.

Ha. Right. I tried to smile back, but I was sure it looked more like a weird grimace than a smile.

"So what would you like for me to get you?" she asked.

"Surprise us." Jackson mumbled, staring directly into my eyes.

"Oh. Sure, okay." She chirped, and then instead of leaving she began gathering the dishes like the good, caring waitress she was.

Perfect. Just perfect.

I sighed and decided she would be gone a moment earlier if I actually helped a bit, so I started placing my fork and empty cokes on top of my plate, before handing it to her.

"Aw, you're so nice, thank you." she mused, and I just gave her another bright grimace.

When she finally left, I looked back at Jackson, but he was now looking somewhere behind me, his eyes unfocused. After a long moment of silence, I cleared my throat. "Uh… what were you… What were you going to say?" I asked.

He snapped out of whatever it was he was thinking of. When his gaze met mine, his eyes were frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth. They were cold. Cold and distant. "Nothing." He said with a smile that didn't even begin to look real. "Nothing, forget it."

My head shot back at once, my elbows pressing against my sides.

Of course. Of course it was nothing. I was nothing to him. Nothing but a stupid job, just another source of money. He had probably slept with a dozen more women just this week, and I was simply just another chick he had to put on a show for. Just another name on his already full agenda. April Kepner – Virgin. Be extra sweet and throw in a lot of compliments.

I shook my head at myself. It wasn't like I hadn't known what I was doing when I agreed to this. The dinner, the deal… Ha, the deal! Honesty, right? He'd be honest with me, he would drop the act and be himself, and I just had to believe him. Just another trick I had for a moment fallen for. Just another typical lie that I had somehow foolishly believed. How… How stupid had I been? How naïve? How could I even… just for a second I had actually…

And there it was again. That overwhelming feeling that had no business covering me, those rainy bullets that hit me with no mercy. Only this time the drops were frozen over, the chilling ice piercing my chest and making me wrap my arms around me in a doomed attempt to protect me. I tried to swallow but the lump that was suddenly in my throat made it almost impossible. I bit my lip and felt the wetness in my eyes increase dangerously.

Oh, hell no. You are not crying. You are not going to cry, do you hear me? Not for him, not for anyone. Pull your crap together.

I cleared my throat, my eyes falling down to my plate. I grabbed my fork with force and began pushing the mushrooms around my plate without taking a single bite.

A long moment of heavy silence passed before he sighed. I heard the sound of fabric moving, and before I could check what he was doing I felt his hand on mine, stopping my movement. "April…" he murmured.

I let go of the fork and pulled my hand away. "Don't." I snapped. "Just don't."

I heard him gulp before his hand disappeared from my eyesight. "I'm sorry." He mumbled. "I'm sorry, but I really think it would be better if… if we stopped this before-".

I didn't even care to begin registering what he was saying. "Why?" I cut him off, unable to hold that little word back anymore. It had been burning my tongue, eager to escape my mouth and I just couldn't help but finally let it. "Why even bother? We'll just finish eating and you'll take me home, right? Like you promised you would." I reminded him. "Why put so much effort to make me… What's the point of being so damn…" I let out a frustrated breath, unable to find the right words. "Look, I get that this must be an everyday thing to you, fancy dinners and sweet-talking and all this." I gestured between the two of us. "And you must think so little of it and not even get affected by it in the very least, I get it, I understand. But you have to realize that that is not the case when it comes to me." I pointed out with a bitter laugh. "I don't go out with people, I don't talk to people, I don't open up to people and people don't like me, they don't notice me, they don't even know I exist and so when you are being like this, acting like that around me, making deals and promises you don't intent to keep, I just can't help but…" I shook my head. "God, I don't even know why I agreed to this, this was such a stupid idea!"

His face was all crumpled up. "The deal?"

"Everything!" I all but cried. "The dinner, the… Damn it, I knew this would happen!"

"What would happen?"

I froze and looked at him.

I would fall for you.

Knowing me, I couldn't believe I hadn't even thought about it twice before I gave in to the temptation. I knew resisting him would be a million times harder had I began talking to him, laughing with him, knowing him. I had known this would happen and I still had done nothing to prevent it, and now he was right here in front of me acting like he actually cared. Like he actually felt something. And even though I was certain that wasn't at all the case here, just the possibility had my insides twisting around like some kind of, and I knew I was beginning to get attached. And if I got attached… If I got attached I wouldn't be able to think about anything or anyone but him. I wouldn't be able to sleep, to eat, to breathe, not along work. He would be in my head all the time, conjuring my mind and soul, and I know that sounded really messed up, but it was just how things went with me. I was a passionate person. I could shut things out, I could detach myself and not care, but if I actually made the mistake to let my walls down, to let someone in… Then that's where they stayed. In me, in all of me, in every cell of my body. If I let myself feel there would be no coming back.

And the thing was… I was afraid that it was already too late.

I took a sharp breath. I had to stop this now. I had to get out of there. "You know what? Just forget it." I spat out and I quickly stood up, my chair making a rasping sound as it scraped the wooden floor. "I'm going home. Goodnight."

"…What? No, don't-" He made a move to stand up but I held up my hand in front of him, gesturing him not to.

"Thanks for tonight, it was very nice. I'm happy it was you." I mumbled with a small smile. "Goodbye, Jackson."

And with those last words I turned my back at him and with rushed steps I made my way to the entrance. I pushed the door open with force and walked down the front stairs of the restaurant. Only once I reached the sidewalk and heard the loud sound of the door shutting closed behind me did the chilling April breeze suddenly hit me. I realized I had no jacket, and my short-sleeved dress left the majority of my arms and legs completely exposed to the cold. I wrapped my arms around myself and took in my surroundings. The street was quiet again, with not a single sign of life, just like it had been when I had first got here. The silence was so unusual for the overcrowded city of Seattle, with only faint traffic sounds to be barely heard in the distance. The few streetlights were the only sources of light, painting the road with a dim yellow color while all side-streets were completely covered in darkness.

I was about to pull my cell out to call a cab when it finally occurred to me that I wasn't holding my purse. In fact, I hadn't had it with me all night. I had been so eager to just go take a look at him through the glass wall and then go back home that I hadn't even bothered taking my purse with me. I had left it in Lexie's car.

I groaned. Perfect. Just perfect.

I had no idea where I was, I was cold and alone, I had no cellphone to call a cab… In my despair, I was ready to make my way back to the restaurant when I finally remembered that, on our way here, we had come across a much more crowded street just a few blocks away. If I made my way there I would definitely find myself a cab to take me home.

I took a deep breath and with newfound determination I started crossing the road with a quick pace, walking towards the spot where Lexie had first parked the car. The moment I stepped on the sidewalk across the street, I heard the door slamming open. "April, come on!" I heard his voice yell from behind me. The loud sound of the door shutting was followed by the numerous thuds of his hurried footsteps. "Stop, damn it!"

I moved my feet faster. "I'm going home!" I shouted, my gaze set in front of me.

I heard him sigh. "The car is the other way."

"I'm not going with you!"

He huffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't just walk back!"

"Why?"

"Rapists? Murderers? God knows what kind of people are wandering around the streets at this hour!" his voice seemed to be coming from closer and closer by the second, and I knew it wouldn't be long before he reached me. Not a hard achievement, by the way, considering my heels.

I tightened my hands' grip around my body. "I'm getting a cab!" I yelled back stubbornly.

He groaned. "Would you stop running away from me for a damn second?"

"Just leave me alone, Jackson!" I cried, my voice slightly cracking at the end. I was a mess. I was panting, the stupid heels were already killing me, I was freezing cold and I just wanted to go home to my warm, cozy bed and cry my eyes out. Not for him, or anything. Just for my stupid-ass self that let me freaking feel even though I knew what the consequences would be. I just wanted to hide myself under my fluffy blanket and never come out. I just... I just wanted to go home.

"April." His voice came suddenly from right behind me and I felt the familiar warm feeling of his hand on my upper arm, taking hold of it.

I immediately tried to break free, but his grip was just strong enough to hold me in place. I stopped struggling just to turn around and shoot him a glare. "Let. Go. Of me." I all but growled.

He immediately pulled his hand away, but the intensity of his gaze held me in place instead. His eyes, green again now under the yellow lights, suddenly seemed agonizing. Desperate. "Just let me talk to you." he pleaded.

Here we go again.

"What is there to talk about? We had dinner, that's it!" I snapped. "Everything is perfectly clear, just like it has been from the beginning. It was fun, you played it great, thanks for being my perfect gift or whatever, now goodbye!"

He groaned. "Stop this, okay? Just stop! I'm not just some random birthday gift they threw your way and you're not just another costumer of mine so stop pretending that's the case!"

"What are you even talking about?" I screeched in disbelief.

"Stop it!" He shouted. "You know it and I know it, so just drop the freaking act and stop running away from me so we can talk about it, damn it!"

"We both know I am not the one acting here!"

"Oh, you're not?" his voice was filled with burning sarcasm. "Fine. Then look at me." He demanded, leaning closer. "Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel it too."

I stared at him in incredulity, my heart beginning to race as his words begun settling in. Feel it… too? Could he possibly be saying what I thought he was saying? My God, this wasn't even supposed to be part of his job, why on earth was he doing this?! Frowning stubbornly, I opened my mouth to tell him I didn't, I didn't feel it. Whatever that it was. But as I did so, nothing came out. Not a single word. My hand rose to touch my throat, trying to force the words out, but in terror I realized that was impossible. I couldn't lie, not to him.

And I had just been exposed.

In the tiniest of moves the corners of his lips twisted upwards so slightly it was barely noticeable, but nobody could possibly miss the sudden brightening of his eyes. He nodded. "Exactly." He murmured. "So just stop acting like this means nothing to you. And stop acting like I don't have any feelings, okay?" He added, his voice rising in frustration. "I have feelings! I have a lot of them."

A sound of odd nature escaped my throat, a strange mixture of a huff and a sob. "About what?!"

"About you, April!" he snapped, taking a step closer and his words hit me like a kick to the stomach. I felt the blood freeze in my veins, my mind suddenly going completely blank. Before I had time to process what was happening he took another step towards me, both his hands raising to cup my cheeks, to hold my face still as his head leaned closer to press his forehead against mine. "Can't you see?" he cried, looking right into my eyes, our lips inches apart. My every move suddenly froze, my heart stopped beating, my breath hitched in my throat as all I could focus on was the green of his eyes. They were like a clear lake in a dark forest, the round shallow crevice filled with completely transparent water which didn't tug or ripple in the closed off space, though there was reason enough to. That already unnaturally beautiful scene came to caress the dim yellow light, a gracious beam to bounce off the surface's scale, making the water turn a paler green. The pond of his eyes was so deep I could swear that for a brief moment I could actually look right into his soul, and the beauty of it knocked the air out of my lungs, captivating me to the point I was unable to even think. "For you." He whispered now, his hot breath brushing against my lips.

At his words I felt a warm shiver ran down my spine like a bolt of electricity. My pulse felt like a hummingbird's wings flapping inside my chest, the scent of fresh-scented pine and honey clouding my every sense to the point I was pretty much enchanted as I began leaning towards him to close the small distance between our mouths. Before I managed to do so, though, he took a rushed step backwards, his hands falling from my face. I froze in spot and bit my lips, trying to calm my frantic heartbeat while also hoping he hadn't realized what I had been in the verge of doing.

I watched as his hands rose to his own face as he buried his head in them, pressing them against his now forcibly shut eyes. He let out an unsteady breath and let his arms fall to his sides. "Look, we're not supposed to feel anything, okay? Where I work at… Rule number one is no feelings. You get the job, you play your part, you do anything the customer wants and then you come back fresh the next day. You don't feel." He said, his eyes fixed on the dark concrete, and I was shocked by the actual mention of details about his job. "And I didn't want to feel!" he hollered. "I didn't want to feel anything for you! I knew what was best for me, ignoring this", he gestured between us, "no matter how hard because I knew it was pointless and wouldn't get us anywhere." He shrugged. "It still won't! It can't, no matter how much I wish things were different… Nothing can happen between us. There is no future for us, there can't be. There is nothing that I want more right now, and I know how crazy that sounds because I've known you for what, a few hours?" He let out a bitter laugh. "And yet here I am, feeling things and falling for you even though I swore to myself I wouldn't, because when I look at you…" he paused, his eyes finally rising to meet my own as he slightly shook his head. "I stop thinking. When I let myself just be with you, I am no escort and you are no customer, there is no job preventing me from feeling. There's just your hazel eyes and your bubbly laugh, your voice and your dimples, the way you blush and gesture with your hands and curl your lip when you concentrate, and I just can't… I…" his voice softly faded.

His eyebrows were merged together, his beautiful characteristics looking so troubled, so racked that, shocked, I realized there was no way he was faking that one. There was no way he was lying, not this time. He couldn't possibly be this good of an actor. He seemed so desperate, for what I didn't know, but whatever it was at that point I just wanted to give it to him. I needed to end this, to take the torment out of his eyes for my sake if not his. I couldn't bear watching him like this. It was too much.

And just as I was trying to figure out when exactly he wanted from me, his former words suddenly echoed in my ears, and the memory of his voice was so vivid that it had me letting out a breath I hadn't even known I was holding.

"You have to actually believe me." He had muttered with a sad smile, six words that had seemed so irrational then but somehow seemed to finally make perfect sense. What he wanted from me was to fulfill my part of the deal. To simply believe him. And he had been right. Believing him had been so much harder than I could have ever begun to imagine.

But at that moment, I realized that I actually did.

"Don't leave." He murmured, his pleading eyes bringing me back to the present. "Not yet. Not before I get to…" he struggled with his words. "Look, we don't have to go to the hotel, I mean that's not why I… I don't mean we should… Just let me take you somewhere." He finally asked. "There's this, this beach in a mile or so from here, and it's very quiet, nobody ever goes there. We can get there in twenty minutes."

I licked my lips, my mind finally set. I felt warmth crawling up my chest and I let it, not even bothering to hide the smile that tickled my mouth. "How do you even know that?" I asked with a small grimace.

He blinked, his head shooting back as he looked down at me in wonder. His restrained gaze traveled from my eyes to my lips, and at the sight of my smile I finally noticed every sense of unease disappear from his expression. He didn't smile with his lips, but one look at his eyes and I knew he knew. He knew I believed him. "Do you wanna get into that right now?" he asked, his voice sarcastic.

"Nope." I said, popping the 'p'.

He tilted his head to the side. "No, you don't wanna get into that or no, you don't want to stay with me?"

I broke our gaze to look down in an attempt to gather my thoughts. I could just clarify my intentions with a single sentence, but a sudden curse of adrenaline in my veins had me wanting to show him what I meant instead. With a surprising confidence that I never even knew I had in me until right this second, I raised my hand to touch the outside of his forearm –bare, as the sleeves of his gray shirt were folded to his elbows- and softly traced my hands over his dark skin in a tender caress. I felt his hair rise beneath my touch before my hand traveled higher, tracing patterns on his upper arm, his shoulder and then down his collar bone. I felt him shiver at the contact but he made no farther movements, and so I proceeded to let my hand travel just a bit lower, finally coming to rest on his chest, right over his heart. I took a moment to appreciate the feeling of his strong heartbeat pounding against my palm, his chest raising and falling rhythmically beneath me, before I bit my lips and –holding my breath- took a step towards him, closing the remained distance between us. I noticed his chest stilling at once -him not breathing either- when, heart hammering, I rose on my tiptoes and leaned closer, slightly tilting my head to the side. I felt his small beard tickling my cheek as I brought my mouth to his ear.

"Take me to the beach, Jackson." I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear, and I didn't have to look at his face to know that that cocky smirk of his had finally made its appearance again.

Fanfiction.net

AO3

Jenny/Vastra Prompts #9

Prompt: Jenny and Vastra  prove that even the smallest actions can make a huge difference, by doing some good old fashioned philanthropy work of their own.

My second story for Femslash February this year, not a bad pace at all. Also, I would first like to give a special thanks to my pal @feshsticks for essentially being the brilliant mastermind behind the idea of this story, and was so kind as to let me run off with it. Much appreciated, Pip!

Once she finished eating her breakfast of roasted lamb, Vastra picked up her tall glass of fresh blood and took a long sip, watching as Jenny’s facial expression suddenly became scrunched with disapproval from over the glass’s rim.

The Silurian then placed down her drink, a sense of concern prompting her to ask,“Jenny, my dear, you seem to be a bit troubled. Why is that?”

Vastra’s question caused Jenny to look up from the daily newspaper she was currently so engrossed in.

“Look at these bleeding statistics, Vastra!” Exclaimed Jenny as she flipped the newspaper around, and stabbed hotly at a particular article with her finger. Vastra,being newly intrigued, leaned forward in her chair in order to see it better. Meanwhile, Jenny proceeded to rant most bitterly about the article by reciting, “One million and two hundred people, over 40 percent of the total  population in London, is currently homeless without work! It just breaks my heart to think of all those poor folks stuck out there in the cold, freezing to death. Nobody should have to be forced to go through the winter on an empty stomach like this. It’s just ain’t right, Vastra!”

“Mmm....yes, my darling, these are rather difficult times indeed,”Spoke Vastra in a grave tone, quickly adsorbing in the article that was causing her wife so much distress. Then in a moment’s notice of Silurian arrogance, she unwittingly added, “I do often wonder how you humans managed to evolve so far when you  allow your own kind to wallow in such deplorable conditions.”

Normally, Jenny would often roll her eyes at Vastra’s condescendingly anti-human statements, but this time she actually found herself agreeing with Vastra for once.

Jenny sank back into her chair with a huff and methodically rubbed her aching temples, sighing, “I know....the worst part about all of this, is that nobody is lifting a single finger to help these people! How can anyone be so heartless as to simply go about their days while ignoring the demotion of human life happening around them?”

Jenny may be living in the security and comfort of a big grand house now, but not a single day has went by where she didn’t reminisce about her previous  experiences on the streets of London; An elderly man with his feet wrapped in nothing more than dirty tattered rags, a family with three small children huddling together for warmth, two men cooking rats that they’ve killed over a makeshift fire, a man who’s missing one leg hobbling around using a wooden crutch begging for people to donate some money, another man’s body found laying face down in a gutter and his head split open after a drunken tavern brawl. Nobody was hit harder on a personal level by these negative statistics than Jenny, because she was the only person who truly understood what it’s like to be in these people’s shoes since she herself used to be in the exact same situation. She knew very well first-hand that life was extremely difficult on the streets, where the dangers were many and opportunities were few. Poverty, disease, and violence all ran rampant throughout the city, there was no way of  escaping them. It was everybody for themselves doing whatever necessary to ensure their own survival, the concept of true friendship, trust, and loyalty was practically nonexistent. Misery, resentment, and despair were your only constant companions as they slowly chipped away at your soul each day.

“Well, what did you expect, Jenny? It was you humans who built this entirely corrupt and exploitative capitalistic society that leaves most of the population at  a large disadvantage, while only granting wealth and power to a few selected minority,”scoffed Vastra, her tone dripping with thick malicious irony, since she too knew about the evils that some humans were capable of. “These people would rather cut off their own arms and legs before they’re willing to part with their vast fortunes in any way. The detached and privileged upper class can’t possibly care less about the problems that plague the impoverished masses, as they see them to be nothing more than an inconvenient eyesore. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear, but I’m merely stating facts here,” Vastra concluded breezily while partaking in another drink from her glass of blood.

Jenny merely sat there, the newspaper getting crumpled within the tightening clenches of her hands, as she mulled obsessively over the Silurian’s words. Jenny was determined to find a way to help all these destitute people, her brain nearly turning itself inside out searching for a solution. Finally, it was as if a light bulb had lit up in her head when the seemingly perfect idea came to her.

“Oi! If you want something to be done, then you’ll just have to do it yourself!” Jenny suddenly proclaimed, jumping up to her feet in a surge of newfound energy and purpose.

Vastra tilted her head quizzically at Jenny’s outburst and curiously inquired, “And what exactly is your plan to do that?”

Jenny responded by flashing Vastra a broad, slightly secretive smile before walking over to the doorway and calling, “Strax, go and get the carriage ready! Move it, now!”

“Where are you going, Jenny?” Asked an increasingly confused Vastra.

“Oh, I just thought that I’d go into town to do a little shopping, ti’s all,”Jenny reassured innocently enough with a small shrug. 

She swiftly proceeded to exit the room and go make her plan a reality.

Vastra watched Jenny come home two hours later, towing a great amount of assorted vegetables, meat, and other food items inside along with her. She then ordered Strax to assist her with setting a large black cauldron down in the middle of the kitchen floor. There were so many questions that Vastra wanted to ask, but never got the chance since Jenny had insisted on shooing her out of the kitchen. Once she got everything she needed at her disposal, Jenny was then able to get to work on her grand project, practically throwing herself headlong into it with such enthusiasm as Vastra had never seen before. It eventually became clear that whatever Jenny was doing would last well into the night, therefore Vastra reluctantly resigned to retiring to bed whether with, or without Jenny.

The very next morning afterward, a considerably disappointed Silurian woke up to find the bed empty of her wife’s familiar mammalian warmth. In fact, it would seem that Jenny didn’t even came into their bed at all last night. Vastra frowned and hissed sharply in displeasure at Jenny’s absence, until her highly advanced Silurian hearing picked up what sounded like a bustling commotion from outside of their house. Hurriedly putting on her silken robe and fur slippers, Vastra then approached the large window at the other bedroom wall that faced out toward the main street in front of their house. At first, she couldn’t believe the sight that greeted her and had to rub the remaining drowsiness away from her eyes to make sure what she saw was true.

Looking down from their second-story bedroom window, Vastra could see what appeared to be hundreds of people amassed in a line stretching far beyond the street itself; And then there was Jenny, standing behind a huge cauldron filled up to the brim with soup, which she’s apparently rushing to serve to everyone waiting in the line. 

“Did she really stay up all night making that one giant cauldron of soup to feed the poor?” Pondered Vastra, a hand thoughtfully stroking her chin. The longer she watched the scene happening before her, the more clear it became to Vastra as a broadly delighted smile took form on her face. “Actually, now that I think about it, none of this should come as a surprise, for my Jenny has always been intensely dedicated to the best of causes.” 

Her smile only continued to grow when a most brilliant notion occurred to her. “Hmm.....but why stop at soup, though, when there is still plenty more that we can give?”

Thus, with that idea firmly in mind, Vastra then left the window and went in search of something that she will need in order to fulfill her intended objective.

Jenny, meanwhile, had her sleeves rolled up to the elbows as she was busy with single-handedly providing bowls of warm, delicious soup to the massive throng of people gathered before her cauldron in the street. Despite not having had a single wink of sleep the night prior, Jenny was still able to perform all the arduous tasks expected of her with unwavering fortitude and tenacity. She had one hand holding the ladle and the other grabbing bowls, working fast like a well oiled machine to keep the line moving forward. Any kind of delay will most likely cause restlessness and discontent to arise amid the crowd of people  there, which she very much wanted to avoid.

Strax soon marched up toward Jenny, announcing, “Boy, I’ve distributed every single piece of bread among these pathetically odorous and primitive human filth! I am afraid to report that it was not enough, and they are demanding more!”

The burly Sontaran wore a frilly lace apron that he borrowed from Jenny over his butler uniform, and a hairnet on his bald dome head. Jenny would usually laugh at him for being dressed in such a ridiculously comical outfit, but in this particular moment her mind was too fixed on other important matters

“Well then....quit your jabbering and go get some more bread from the kitchen!”Instructed Jenny urgently, never even taking her focus away from the cauldron. “Hurry!”

Strax gave her a brisk military salute before heading back into the house to fetch the required supply of bread.

“God bless you, little Miss!”Proclaimed the next person in line, surprising Jenny. She glanced up to see that it was an older gentleman, as indicated by his peppery gray hair, and the deeply pronounced wrinkles that marred his angular face. He looked at Jenny with pale yet shimmering green eyes, and a weary smile. “I can’t remember the last time I had a good warm meal to eat, but I’ll be sure to never forget your selfless act of kindness towards an old, crusty, dried up geezer like myself.” He then made a grand gesture of his arm at the other people around them saying, “Neither will all these other folks, for the whole city is currently singing your praises! Thank you, thank you very much!”

“Believe me,sir, it’s my utmost pleasure to be serving all you wonderful folks out here today,” replied Jenny in earnest, gracing him with one of her signature radiant smiles.

This wasn’t the first time that Jenny had received similar praises from the people she served. Hundreds upon hundreds of the city’s poorest destitute population poured into this one street on Paternoster Row from every remote corner of London. As soon as Jenny gave away that very first bowl of soup, word seemed to travel quickly like a wildfire sweeping across the city, informing everyone else of her saintly endeavor. Many of these people beheld her with a sense of utter awe and reverence, as if she was Jesus Christ himself having descended down to earth to answer their prayers. Jenny simply endured it in silence, allowing these indigent god-fearing people to hold onto their religious fantasies, knowing that deep down inside she was just as mortal and worldly as all the rest of them. Jenny was feeding them out if the strict kindness of her golden heart, and the happiness on their faces when she present them with a bowl of soup was already the best reward she could ever ask for.

Suddenly, there was a disturbance as somebody pointed at the roof, and shouted, “Look! Look, there, on the roof! I see someone!”

Excitedly confused murmurs ensued throughout the crowd as they all raised their faces upward trying to see what was on the roof. Sure enough, standing atop the roof was a mysterious cloaked and veiled figure carrying a large sack. It would seem that things have taken a particularly interesting turn, indeed.

Jenny also craned her neck to get a better glimpse, squinting her eyes in an attempt to identify the person  on the roof. It didn’t took her very long to realize exactly who it was up there.

 “What the bloody hell is that damn daft lizard doing up there on the roof?!”

Madame Vastra stood tall and erect up on the rooftop of 13 Paternoster Row, where she had a wide, open view of the street below from such a high position. She boldly removed the veil off her face in one fluid motion to reveal dark sunglasses and a smoking pipe hanging out aside her mouth. Truth be told, she had chosen these certain accessories mainly for aesthetic purposes, rather than any practical functions. Then, without wasting another second, Vastra reached inside the sack she brought with her and proceeded to toss handful after handful of actual money down into the assembled horde of people. Hundreds of hands immediately shot up in the air to catch the money as it fell down like rain all around them, causing everybody to cheer wildly with hysteria. First it was free soup, and now they’re getting money, too? It really couldn’t get any much better than that!

Jenny couldn’t help but beam at the miraculous sight before her, and she eventually gave Vastra a signal of her approval. That made Vastra smile proudly to herself as she continued to lavish generous amounts of money upon the hapless poor and homeless. Together, these two formed a significantly formidable team in their efforts to help their fellow citizens who were less fortunate than themselves.

Newspapers soon immortalized the fantastically charitable exploits of ‘Jenny Christ Souper Star’ and ‘Madame Vastra the Money Moses’ within the city’s collective public conscience forever.

Nessian - Part 4

So this has turned into a collab with @cataclysimic-star

she wrote a post which we consider Part one

I responded to her post with Part two

Within an hour we had Part three

(Part 5)

Nesta POV  (1930 words)

We had been training for weeks, Feyre wasn’t back, but in every other aspect, life had changed. My combat skills had advanced greatly under Cassian’s careful training, but not nearly as far as my magical abilities. As Rhys had thought  when I had first asked him about my magic, the power had been evolving as I had learned to control it - beginning by understanding the magic of the elements as Feyre had, then moving to Tamlin and Rhys’s and Cassian’s magic, only imitating the darkness, but to such perfect likeness, that I may as well have been the High Lady of the Night Court. The darkness was only an imitation though. The power I had been given could be fashioned in any which way I pleased. I used it like the demati, a gift that did not usually stem from magic, but from ones naturally gifting, but yet I could push this raw magic, not of the courts like Feyre’s, into someone’s mind and create a tunnel through which I could hear and see and delve into the minds of others. The mental shields that I had initially build had been the same as those any fae might construct, but now the walls were fashioned not of my own strength, but of the cauldron's magic that even the most powerful high lord to ever reign, could not break through.

Mor hadn’t changed much, other than her initial suspicion of us lifting to reveal an annoyingly cheerful soul underneath. Even in the midst of the war, she greeted me each morning and smiled when I agreed to let her help me with something… anything.

Elain was more quiet than usual, reclusive even. Rhys had tried explaining to me that if Lucien had felt the mate bond click into place and told Elain, then she would be able to feel the bond and therefore feel him at the end of it. We had tried learning basic shielding, from Rhys but neither of us had had much success. I knew that though she was quiet, his voice in her head was probably deafeningly loud. As much as it pained me, after a while we all just accepted that the best thing for her was to learn to block him out so that the voices would stop and so that she could say and hear things without them going directly to the right hand of the spring court.

Azriel hadn’t woken up for the first few days, so for him to be walking around was probably the biggest change in any of us. Although Cassian had only stayed in bed reluctantly until his wings were healed enough to not physically pain him, or enough for him to hide it if I had learned anything about the Illyrian in these last few weeks. I think that's why Rhys set him to train me, it was a job that needed doing and it wasn’t as strenuous as the training at the camps. He was changing too, the number of bandages on his wings reducing a little in the last week as the magically aided membranes knit themselves back together in a beautiful tapestry of scars. The more black started to show through, the less he looked like an angel, but the more time I spent training with him, the more I thought he was.

Which brought us to today. Cassian, shirtless on the roof. Me using my magic to cool us down. My skin tingling every time I punched him, just because of the contact. And Rhys planning a war from an office in a townhouse in a village that apparently didn’t exist. 

The lesson was over before I was ready to relinquish the opportunity to touch Cassian’s beautiful torso, but I didn’t say anything. I had never let anyone in when I was a human and I wasn’t about to start by swooning over some faerie, even if he was strong and fairly… ok really good looking and the biggest flirt I had ever met. My thoughts were interrupted by his beautiful deep voice calling out to me, “Hey, Sweetheart, we need to talk about tomorrow. No lessons sorry.” I cursed my heart as it sank at his words and fought to keep the frown off of my face, instead commenting on the possibilities of the day I could now spend as I pleased. 

“Wait, Cassian, why aren’t we having lessons?” Trying to hide the disdain in airiness and curiosity.

“Rhys has finally realised that he cannot win this war without me and is sending me… somewhere.” He stressed the last word and gave me a pointed look, clearly overjoyed at being allowed to resume his secretive work in the inner circle. 

“So take me with you.” I shrugged casually as he paused, assessing me, trying to gauge my motives. The look fell from his face leaving it blank and expressionless in a strangely beautiful, yet slightly sinister manner and he walked straight past me and down the stairs into the house. I gave a mental huff and scalded myself. “Nesta, you finally have a day off. Your muscles constantly ache as it is, use the day to rest.” I quickly made up my mind about what to do tomorrow, then marched right into Rhys’ office. “Is my training coming along well?” I pleaded with urgency. 

He raised his eyes to me slowly and replied hesitantly, “yes, I believe it is. Cassian tells me that he still can’t feel your punches through his leathers, but you are extremely fast with any form of weapon and have learnt to form them from your magic so you will never need hand-to-hand combat skills anyway.”

“Am I a trusted member of your court?” I paused long enough for him to think I had finished talking, the realisation of where this was going had been evident on his face and after considering his answer for a minute, he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut off his reply. “I know enough about your plans to destroy you so clearly you trust me.” Not a question this time, if I wanted to… persuade him to my way of thinking, I needed the upper hand. “I eat your food, I live in your house. I am clearly on your side in this war and have agreed to fight for my sister which means I fight for you.” 

“Nesta, did you speak to Cassian about this? Ultimately, I believe that you are the sort of person we need representing the Night Court. This is a war, you are strong and will show our allies and enemies alike what the King of Hybern is doing, and the power that we now hold, but I’m not the one you would be travelling with so it’s up to him, but I will tell him that he has my permission to give you any sensitive information, if he wants you to come that is." I smirked at Rhys and he groaned knowing that he had just given me the ammunition I needed to go against his own brother. 

When I left, Cassian was waiting outside, was I really that predictable? 

"I heard. THANKS A LOT, RHYS." He shouted to his brother before turning to walk away, out of earshot no doubt and pausing for me to follow. "So? Now that's it's your choice, do you want me to come with you or not?" 

His cocky, flirty facade faltered. He was stuck between being the strong warrior who went on secret and lonesome missions for the most powerful person in the universe and the opportunity to spend a weekend with me. I dared a step closer, how ever beautiful he and his muscles looked, basked in the morning sunlight on the roof, I hadn’t encouraged his affections, in fact, I had actively tried to discourage them on numerous occasions. My last relationship with Tomas hadn’t gone exactly to plan and the stories I heard from Mor did not exactly paint him as the kind of guy who wants a lasting relationship, which, in my new immortal body, could potentially be a very long lasting relationship. However, if brushing against him and looking up at him was going to allow me the chance to help the night court and my sister, then screw him and his flirting, I was going to use his own arrogance against him.

“Come on Cass.” I let my body brush against his, just as it had at my house in the mortal realm, but now taller, leaner and wrapped in leathers, I didn’t have to push so close and stretch up on my tip toes to reach his face. This time, though, I leant to the side and spoke over his shoulder, “you taught me, your teaching has prepared me, let me help save my sisters as you would want to do for your brothers. Do you still doubt my skills after I got you into this very vulnerable position?" With that, the memory of the moment I had recreated hit him with as much force as I had and he withdrew, not far enough that I couldn't still get him, but to allow him to anticipate my moves and stop me if I did. I gave him a smirk, "you're going to need my skills. After all, this is the only court with a High Lady and I have a small feeling that my charms will work better than yours, also my magic is stronger and I am clearly just more of a delight. Surely with a resume like that, you can't turn me down? What time do we leave?" I gave him another smile. This one not cocky, but sweet, turning a little bit pleading, then sad, ending with puppy dog eyes. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine, but if your coming, you may as well winnow us, your magical imitations of wings aren't perfect and your flying isn't good enough. As much as I would cherish the feeling of you pressed up against me for a day, it's a bit far and as you said I may as well make use of your... charms, strength, magic and... delightfulness." He said the last word with too much of a gleam in his eye, but at least he was letting me come. I smiled at him, trying not to replicate his glint, "time?" I instead asked impatiently.

"9, on the roof."

We nodded, and I let my own facade slip, showing him the pure elation I felt at the opportunity to finally be useful. But only for a second before quickly turning away with my head held high. It was only after I got back to by room and stood in the hot showers, relaxing my tight muscles after today's training, ready for tomorrow's adventures, that I realised I had forgotten to ask where we were going and what we were doing. Unfortunately, I had a feeling Cassian was laughing to himself about the impression I had clearly been under about some glamorous visit to another court. Even so, I hoped I wasn't wrong but was already planning to put clothed for any court and any scenario into various shadow realms Rhys had taught me to use, lest I be surprised by Cassian's "trip."

A Game of Inches: Part 1 (A Hannigram Super Bowl AU)

Many thanks to @the-winnowing-wind​, @confusedkayt​ and @cannibalhouse​ for being with me Sunday night as I slowly unraveled during the most insane Super Bowl ever. Of all time. Jesus Christ. Seriously. But by the grace of Fannibal magic, many hugs, and judgmental leopards did I not die of a heart attack during that fourth quarter. 

As promised and witnessed by the football gods who saw fit to bless the Pats with the most absurd comeback in Super Bowl history, here is part one of my fourth quarter sacrificial offering: a Hannigram football AU lifted directly from the game. Some liberties were taken with the game clock, but both of these absurd plays actually happened Sunday night. Thus they shall be honored before we get to the victory smooches. Post game smut and riffing on the hilarity that is football commentary to come with such lines as “Wow! He saw that hole and certainly took advantage of it! What a tight fit!” Get excited, y’all.

Now, I am proud to introduce to you, your very own Baltimore Ravenstags, Hannibal fandom!  

(Who maaaaaaaaaay or may not closely resemble another team elsewhere on the northeast coast. Mwhahaha.)

It had been a punishing three quarters, an apparent disaster to the naked eye. 9-28. The Minnesota Shrikes still leading. It was an unprecedented deficit to overcome on the largest stage of a player’s career, but the mood on the Ravenstags sideline was shockingly calm because of him…because that’s who he was. As bleak as the scoreboard looked, there was never any doubt who had controlled the time of possession in this game. If just a few more plays had gone their way, it would be an entirely different story right now. For the Ravenstags, it was a question of momentum.

Hannibal Lecter stood on the sideline glaring down the opposing offense with his hands on his hips and murder in his eyes. His jaw was relaxed and his shoulders loose like he didn’t care how much time was left. But Will, who knew the quarterback better and more intimately than anyone else on the team, could see the small signs of distress–the little chinks in the armor that could spell disaster for the team. Hannibal had ceased bothering with his sweat drenched bangs which fell into this eyes. The tilt of his hips also betrayed a slight favoring of his right leg, a reminder of the nearly career ending injury that had taken him out of the 2008 season. These things worried Will. The opposing defense would soon see them too, and next, Hannibal would begin seeing ghosts on his bad side. Errant passes into triple coverage would follow if the tone of the game didn’t change soon.

But Will had to disguise these feelings and bury his empathy on the sideline because when you were Hannibal Lecter’s knife there were as many eyes were on you as they were on him. It was an inevitability, and one that Will resented because it interfered with his ability to look after the man beneath the legacy.

The Shrikes called a timeout on a crucial third down to confer with their defensive coordinator. On the Ravenstag sideline, Coach Du Maurier slid up to Hannibal’s side and tugged on the sleeve of his jersey. They exchanged a few words and turned as one unit towards Will.

He swallowed as Hannibal beckoned him over with a hooked finger and an even more lopsided smile, which was never a good sign. Hannibal and Coach Du Maurier were cut from the same cloth: genius strategists with a flair for the dramatic. Their unorthodox play calling allowed them to dominate the League year after year. They had confounded defenses and analysts alike through four championship runs together and seven total Super Bowl appearances.

“What’s the angle?” Will asked because he could only assume that they were reaching into Bedelia Du Maurier’s infinite bag of tricks wearing smiles like that.

“Clarke Kent,” Coach answered eliciting a groan from Will. The situation was as desperate as all that? Yikes!

“Come now, Clarke,” Hannibal laughed and rested his hand on Will’s hip. “You flew so well the last time.” This was a ridiculously hammy way of referencing the now infamous trick play that made use of Will’s experience as a college quarterback at Kent State.

“I think you just want to wreck my QB rating, Lois.” Will gripped. “Mine is still at 100%. What’s yours again, grandpa? 97?”

Hannibal’s honey-colored eyes narrowed dangerously in response to his least favorite insult, but a sudden commotion on the field tore his attention away before Will could regret his choice of words. Their defense had stopped the Shrikes advance and now, it was ‘go time’.

“I’ll get us to the fifty! Be ready!” Hannibal shouted amidst the flurry of activity as the Ravenstags defense came off the field.

“Don’t screw this up, you twitchy little man.” Coach Du Maurier warned and pinched Will on the ass for good measure.

The Ravenstags switched to an uptempo offense with Hannibal calling the plays from the line of scrimmage instead of from a huddle in order to wear down the defense and save precious time. Hannibal diligently marched the team to the fifty yard line and called the risky play. “Clarke! Clarke! Fifty one is the mike!” he screamed signally to the offense where he saw a problem developing on the defense. Two seconds of nerve-wracking scrambling occurred on both sides of the line. It was a third down now. They only had one shot at this.

The snap was called. Will dropped back to catch the lateral pass from Hannibal.

Time slowed as it always did when he practiced this play. Being a receiver required a different mindset than that of a quarterback, but it was a mindset Will understood having been one himself in his youth. Will detached from himself. He detached from the defenders that were hurtling towards him. He detached from the hopelessness of their circumstances. To be a good quarterback you needed to create a reality where only you and the field existed. He went through his progressions and saw Jimmy gaining some separation from the cornerback that was assigned to him. Will stepped back, visualized the moment when the ball would leaves his hands, and threw it. His movements were instinctual because no matter how far he’d come in his career as a wide receiver there would always be some part of him that was still a quarterback. He’d never win any awards for aesthetics. He was not like Hannibal, but they understood each other. For both men, football was a blood sport, but Will’s ethos was about utility and lethality. 

He watched the ball arc through the air with bated breath. It had a good spiral on it, and Hannibal would not be able to give him lecture on his throwing motion tonight. But downfield, Jimmy had fallen behind. The ball bounced off his fingers ending another fruitless offensive drive for the Ravenstags.

Will ripped off his helmet and spiked it onto the ground “Dammit!” he screamed and looked for Hannibal, but Hannibal had already left the field.

Dejectedly, Will picked up his equipment and trudged back to the sideline. Hannibal sat on a bench with his head bent over a tablet in conversation with Coach Du Maurier. Will’s standard place at Hannibal’s side was left open for him and he could think of no excuse to avoid it. Will plopped down, stared at his feet, and considered whether he should apologize or not for not being good enough. But he worried about the cameras. It would be disastrous to be picked up on the jumbo-tron groveling for approval from his lover. The rookies needed their generals to be strong.

Will grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from a passing waterboy and shifted on the bench so his knee touched Hannibal’s. ’I’m sorry,’ the gesture said when words could not be spoken.

Hannibal never broke character, but he widened the spread of his legs so that their thighs touched. ‘I know.’

A cheer went up when the Shrikes quarterback came onto the field at the moment Will felt at his lowest. Cheers that rightfully should belong to Hannibal in his opinion. At thirty-nine, Hannibal was a better player than he was a decade ago. A four time Super Bowl Champion; three time MVP; Hannibal had more wins than any other quarterback in history. But Hannibal was also Hannibal, and frankly, he was kind of a dick in addition to be entirely unrelatable being both an art snob and actual nobility. 

‘I WILL do better,’ Will vowed. He looked up into the the bright stadium lights, and let the noise inside. The discordant melody filled him, and he transformed those cheers into anger. When he got up off the bench after another critical stop by the Ravenstags defense, Will Graham was ready to kill.

A penalty gave the Ravenstags a much needed first down, but Hannibal slowed the tempo to a crawl by calling the team to the huddle. It was a suspiciously cautious move with ten minutes left on the game clock. “Will, I want you to dart up the middle. Get out fast and get ahead quickly. If you draw double coverage, Z should have an opportunity on a outside.”

“I want the ball,” Will growled getting a laugh from the other ten men.

“You always want the ball,” Hannibal smiled. “Let Z have it this time, pet. Does everyone understand their assignments?”

Will glared at Zeller, the other slot receiver on the team, and gave him his best ‘don’t you dare drop it because I will murder you’ look. There was admittedly a bit of a rivalry between them since Zeller had tried to steal Will’s locker besides Hannibal’s during Zeller’s first season on the team.

“Adapt! Evolve! Become!” The team shouted as one to break up the huddle and affirm that they understood. The ball was snapped. Will ran his route flawlessly drawing three defenders instead of two but felt a prick at the nape of his neck alerting him to danger. Will looked over his shoulder and saw with horror that Zeller had gotten stuck in the box while the pocket of protection collapsed around Hannibal.

He saw Hannibal’s eyes searching desperately for an opening. This was it. This was the nightmare scenario. Will had only a second to adjust knowing full well what was coming next. Will twisted on the balls of his feet changing the direction of his forward progress. He dropped his right heel into the Astroturf at the exact moment Hannibal’s eyes locked onto his. Will pushed himself forward as the ball left Hannibal’s hands. He reached as far as his arms could stretch and felt the impact of three defenders crashing into him. 

The ball was tipped by a defender before Will reached it. He knew with absolute certainty it would just miss his hands and fall instead into the outstretched arms of the safety for a devastating interception to end any chance the Ravenstags had of recovering this game. The emotional despair Will felt was more crushing than the physical weight bearing him down to ground, but the winds of fate suddenly shifted. Miraculously, the ball bounced off the ankle of Nicholas Boyle. It hovered in midair, six inches off the ground, and somehow, Will managed to get his hands beneath it before it touched the turf.

The instant Will had his hands on the pigskin, he reeled the ball into his chest and curled up around it at the bottom of a dog pile. The Shrikes grappled with him for the ball hoping to knock it out of his hands before he had full control of it, but Will held onto the rock as if his life depended on it.

His teammates eventually pulled him out from underneath the pile. There was hugging and shouting and signs of life on the Ravenstag offense. Will gave the ball to a lineman and risked a brief glance at the uprights not wanting to get his hopes up. Forty yards to go and another four downs to do it in. They still had a chance! Christ. The Ravenstags were a wink and a nod away from the red zone now after the most improbable catch of Will’s career. It just didn’t seem real.

“Will.”

Will turned towards the sound of the one voice he knew better than all others. Even at a whisper, Will could always pick out Hannibal’s voice above the roar of the stadium. His quarterback came towards him wearing a look of shock and reverie. It was a face Will loved to see in the privacy of a hotel room or their Baltimore home, but it was not appropriate now–not when they had everything to win!

Will ran at Hannibal at top speed and grabbed him by the face mask. “I told you!!! What did I tell you!?! Give me the damn ball, and I’ll bring the whole damn world to its knees for you!” he shouted into Hannibal’s face and brought their helmets crashing together. 

Hannibal looked dazed at the receiving end of a Will Graham headbutt, and that served him right. Will had acquired the habit from him after all. The violence did its job, and brought Hannibal back into himself. Will saw the competitive fire reignite in his eyes, and his heart swelled with affection and pride for his quarterback.

“Let’s kill them all, Will.” Hannibal said. He pushed Will away and slapped him on the ass as Will trotted past.

Will raised his voice and howled with the thrill of the hunt. Adapt. Evolve. Become. That was the Ravenstag way. “Let the game begin!” we shouted defiantly at the deafening roar of the mob. 

For context, here is what these two plays actually looked like in real life for anyone curious. Numbers 12 (Hannibal - Tom Brady) and 11 (Will - Julian Edelman) are the players you want to watch. 

Clarke Kent: I wasn’t able to find video of it from last night’s game, but here, watch the time it actually worked. (It’s better this way :p) Edelman really is a former QB from Kent State. I don’t know what the actual play is called, but a pun seemed appropriate for our boys. This is also my favorite play in the Patriots’s playbook so I wanted to share. I’ve been writing “Edelman has to QB for various reasons” fic long before it ever happened in a game. Seeing it last night was just “AHHH! *hearteyes*” even if it didn’t work out as hoped for. 

The Catch: JESUS H. CHRIST! Mother fucking triple coverage! I don’t know how he did it. In the game last night, the play came after the pats had closed the gap to 20-28, but I didn’t want this piece to get too long or technical for the non-sports fans.

Anyway, thanks for humoring me. Part two will be less sports ball and more fucking. I hope you enjoyed this presentation of the NFFL - National Fannibal Football League. ;-) 

The Raven Princess

The sun shone through the window illuminating a sleepy girl with long black hair. She stirred and rolled over opening her eyes to reveal a blonde naked girl next to her. She smiled and kissed her sleeping beauty slowly stirring her awake. “Morning Rue” said the blonde woman “good morning Rachel” said Rue. Rachel yawned and stretched. “What time is it”. “7” “good” Rachel slid her hand under the covers. “The we have time” Rue smiled. Rue got dressed and kissed Rachel goodbye “Have a nice day” she said as she left. Rue was the most popular girl in school and had the reputation as being something of a play girl among the students and faculty. Not that this was a determent to her or anything, everyone respected and admired her free sensual expression.  Rue got into the changing room and changed into her red leotard. The way it hugged her body made her giggle as she flash backed to her night with Rachel. When she entered the dance studio. Emily and Kirito were there in matching leotards. “Oh, hello Emily, hello Kirito”. “Hello Rue” said Emily and Kirito together. “Have you heard about the audition” asked Kirito. “What audition?” “There is an audition as to who would play the swan princess in the next performance”. “HMMM, no I haven’t” “I’m sure you’re a shoo in for the role”. “Or, maybe you would be the princess Kirito”. “Oh, no, no I’m not that skilled for the role, at least not yet”. Over the next few days, Rue was practicing hard for the role. Staying late after class, sometimes for over an hour. Studying up on the moves and positions. “You sure have been taking this seriously” said Rachel “Well, yes” said Rue “it’s not everyday that one would have the chance to be the main prima ballerina”. “Still, its not like there’s anyone who can rival your dancing skills”. On the other side of the studio Kirito and Emily were dancing funny and goofy. “Especially not them”  “don’t say that Jason” Rue scolded. “Ballet is not all about technique its about how you convey you dancing that counts”. “After all” said a curly haired girl “you were one of the village maidens in Coppelia”. “And I was a very beautiful girl” Jason said with pride. Rue practiced hard over the next couple of days. Even staying after class for a few hours. “Rue” said Camile one night, “why don’t you come to bed with me”. “In a few minutes” Rue replied Camile went out and kissed her on the neck. “Well, if you need to keep practicing” she started fiddling with Rue’s leotard. “Why not do it naked” she whispered. Rue got a smile on her face and did exercises in the nude while Camile sat and watched. It was the day of the audition. Even though Rue practiced like mad over the past week she still had butterflies in her stomach. “Relax” said Rachel “you’ll be fine”. “I know, I know, after all I am the best dancer here” said a reassured Rue. She was up next. “Break a leg, my love”. Rue got on stage, and began her dance. For the first half of the dance, she was doing really well executing her moves flawlessly. “Wooo, go Rue” said a boy in the crowd. Rue got a surge of confidence which made her dance more recklessly. On and on she went until… Thud. She fell executing a triple pirouette. For a few moments she just laid there on the floor. Until she got up and finished the routine. “Thank you Miss Rue” said the teacher, she did a little curtsey and ran off stage. “Good job Rue, good job” said Rachel. Rue did not look so confident. “Hey, you’re dance was really good, despite the fall”. Rue started to cheer up. “Yeah, yeah I was great”. “Next up, Emily” said the announcer. “Besides, its not like” a pink light came from the stage revealing Princess Tutu, and Rue’s stomach dropped. Her dancing was elegant and flawless. Without one single mistake. As Rue was watching she began doubting herself and her ability compared to the supernatural dancing of Princess Tutu. With one last Grande Jete. She finished and ran off stage. “Ooofff, excuse me Rue” she said as she bumped into her. Rue turned and just stared at her not knowing how to feel. “She didn’t” said a boy named Draco. “She did” said a girl named Penelope. “Emily transformed into Princess Tutu and danced circles around the competition. “What an underhanded trick. It’s one thing for Emily to use her Princess Tutu powers to help people, but its something else to use them for personal gain”. “We should tell on her and have her expelled, what do you think Rue”. Rue was lost in thought and at them mention of her name snapped her out of it. “If Emily wants to use her power like that, then its her own choice”. Her friends were giving her a look. “Its fine, whatever happens happens its fine, its fine” Rue insisted. But she was not fine, in fact her heart was filled with doubt and a sense of how unfair this all was. It didn’t help that everyone was talking about the incident all over town. Which made Rue’s uncertainty grow all the more. Soon her mantra in her heart went from “I wasn’t good enough” to “I hate this situation” to “I hate Tutu”. The next night, as she was making naked love with Rachel “stop, stop” Rue said. Rachel interpreted this as Rue just teasing, but when she slapped her advances she could tell that Rue was in a bad mood. “Do you wanna talk about it” said Rachel. “No, I don’t” “come on Rue don’t be like that”. She tried rubbing her legs getting closer to Rue’s pleasure, but Rue slapped her hand away with more force. Finally, in a desperate attempt she grabbed Rue’s back and shoved her face into her breasts. “I SAID NO” Rue forced Rachel away from her forcing her to fall off the bed and hit the floor. “Camile” she got up with her face full of disappointment. “Rachel, I’m so” she held up her hand with a mad expression on her face. Without a word she got her things and slammed the door behind her leaving Rue all alone. “That was very rude of you Emily” said Naru. ‘What do you mean”. “Using the power of Princess Tutu to win the ballet competition”. Emily was taken aback at how rude she was acting towards her. “Now, now Naru” said Kirito. “Its not like Emily was actively being malicious towards Rue right”? Emily stayed silent, “right”? She sighed “I don’t know, I mean its not like I wanted to win the competition that badly, but, I guess I was second guessing myself a bit, and wanted to use my Princess Tutu powers to… give me… a little edge”. Naru sighed, “you need to talk to Rue and apologized for what you done”. “Yeah, but I’m not sure if she would want to talk to me, she might still be mad at me”. Naru put a hand around Emily’s shoulder “even if Rue doesn’t accept your apology, we will accept it”. Kirito put another arm around Emily. “Thanks” Emily said and the three embraced each other. Rue was still feeling bad over the weekend. Sitting in her room, in the dark, with the blinds drawn. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, or going anywhere. There was a knock on the door. “Rue” said Rachel, “it’s me” she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for the way I stormed out on you last night. I was just being selfish, and wasn’t thinking about how you feel”. Rachel kept talking and slowly, Rue got up to open the door, but for some reason, she froze. Not responding to her or anything. She let Rachel do her speech for a while. “Well, if you need to talk, or anything like that, just know that I am always available if you need me”. Without another word, she left and Rue was all alone again. The encounter with Rachel made Rue feel worse than before. She acted very poorly towards her. “I hate this” her mind kept telling herself. “I hate this, I hate this” over and over again her mind kept ruminating on these negative thoughts. Eventually, Rue decided to get some sleep. Maybe a little nap would cure her of the bad thoughts, but sleep was an elusive thing, and she tossed and turned for a long time until, rest finally came to the depressed girl. Any hopes of a peaceful sleep were quickly dashed as she kept tossing and turning in her bed. Everything was bothering her. Especially the mumbling of her peers at how wrong it was for Princess Tutu to rob Rue of the chance to win the contest. Fed up, Rue tried going to the studio to blow off steam. At the studio Emily was talking with Rachel. “She’s really upset about Princess Tutu dancing in the competition”. “Gee, I didn’t know that Rue took dancing so seriously. Had I known that being Tutu would cause her so much pain, I would’ve never become her in the competition”. The door opened and Rue stepped in “Rue” she stopped as Emily uttered her name. “Rue, I want to apo-” Rue slammed the door as she left. Emily ran into the hallway to find that she was already halfway down the hall. “Rue wait” she began chasing after her which made Rue run even faster. “Please Rue, let me explain, I was” Emily tripped and fell flat on her face on the floor. When she got the muster to get to her feet Rue was already long gone. From the studio doorway Rachel was looking onward. “Rue, what has gotten into you”. Rue returned to the room and slammed the door behind her. She immediately threw off her clothes and lied naked on her bed. Of all the people, why did it had to be her. The bad thoughts came back “I hate this, I hate this” now with more viciousness. Soon the thoughts evolved to become, “I hate her, I hate her, I hate her”. Rue sat up and threw her pillow across the room in frustration. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something unusual. There was a pair of black ballet shoes on the floor. Rue didn’t recognize them as one of hers, but there was this strange energy radiating from them. Cautiously she went over and put them on. The ribbons magically began tying themselves around her feet and soon they made their way up her naked body and formed themselves into a black tutu. Rue looked at herself in the mirror and was stunned at the sexy woman staring back at her. She smiled at what she saw. “Be careful what you wish for princess”. The next day Emily and Rachel were standing next to a tree. She was practicing her apology to Rue. “Look Rue, it was a mistake for me to be Tutu to win the competition, no hard feelings”. “Please, please forgive me Rue I was an Idiiiooottt”. “Hmmm, too desperate” said Rachel. Emily sighed “I know, but I want to get this right, that’s all”. Rachel smiled and put an arm around her. “Just say what’s in your heart, you can’t go wrong with that”. At that moment one of the teachers came up to them. “Excuse me Emily, but I am here to inform you that Rue would like to fight you in an hour”. Everyone’s jaw dropped simultaneously. “Fight me?” asked Emily. “Do you accept Rue’s challenge?” asked the teacher. Emily took a long time to answer. “Yes, tell Rue that I accept her challenge”. The teacher gave her a long stare, then gently smiled and went on his way. Word traveled fast throughout the school and soon everyone was abuzz at the confrontation between Emily and Rue. “Everyone seems to be excited for my meeting with Rue. Maybe this is a bad idea”. “Too late to back down now” said Naru. “Are you sure? Maybe if I come back ano…”. In no time at all Emily was face to face with Rue. “Well, no use turning back now” Emily took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Wait Rue” said Rachel “you don’t have to do this, Emily didn’t mean...” “silence” Rue said. “Emily did this to herself by cheating in order to get the part”. “Yeah, that’s right” “you tell her Rue” yelled people in the crowd. Emily was starting to get nervous as the crowd taunted and tormented her. “Why is everyone being so mean to Emily?” asked Naru. “Mob psychology” came a voice from behind her. “Oh, Bakugo” the surly teen came up from behind and saw Emily succumb to the pressure of the crowd. “HEY MORONS” yelled Bakugo “GIVE EMILY A BREAK HERE”. Everyone instantly silenced themselves. Emily gave Bakugo a smile and he replied with a thumbs up. Meanwhile Rue was still staring daggers at Emily. “So you took her side eh Bakugo. I thought you two were mortal rivals”. “Heh, even a rival can see an unfair fight” “so are you gonna fight me in her stead”? “Nah, I wouldn’t want to spoil a good fight”. “Hey Emily, make sure you give Rue a good fight for me. I wanna know her best moves”. Emily gave him a thumbs up back. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep” Rue emanated a black energy filled with malice, as she transformed into her black tutu. The audience erupted with cheers and whistles. “Looking good, Rue” “how ‘bout after you kick Tutu’s butt I buy you a butter beer”. Rue was feelings pretty confident in her new costume. The two ballerinas squared off against each other, sizing each other up. Rue made the first move as she attacked tutu with a fierce punch. Tutu retaliated with a mighty kick which was much weaker than Rue’s. On and on the two ballerinas kept fighting. This was not a school yard brawl like with Bakugo but more elegant and sophisticated match up. “Wow, this is really exciting” said a boy. “I prefer this to Swan Lake” said a girl with curly hair. “Me too” said another girl. Tutu made a big swipe to Kreahe’s name knocking her to the ground. “Finish it” yelled the mob, but Tutu did a little pirouette instead that allowed Kreahe to get away. “Damit Tutu” said an older girl, “she could’ve ended the fight right there and then”. “Because Tutu’s goal is not to win”. “Not to win?” Indeed, Princess Tutu was becoming more calm and some what playful with her. At first Rue was annoyed that Tutu was not taking this seriously, but soon she realized that Tutu was actually helping her, getting all her anger against the ballerina princess. Tutu managed to get a few more hits in to Rue which made her stamina get a little bit more depleted. Soon the energy that was more confrontational became much more playful. Rue was also feeling more calm and soon the fight between the two ballerinas was much more like a dance. With the two doing more fancier moves in a game of one ups man ship. Occasionally Rue would directly attack Tutu with a slight jab or kick, but it was done more out of mischief than with malace as a way to throw Princess Tutu off her guard. After her last attack Tutu stopped dancing, Rue was curious as Emily transformed out of her Tutu form. Emily gave Rue a curtsey as a sign of respect. “I’m sorry for being Princess Tutu for the contest. I really was a moron for thinking that you would be offended”. That sealed the deal for Rue as she also went back to her normal form. Rue went over to Emily and tugged on her ear. “Oww, oww that hurts” she let go. “What did you do that for”. “For being such a fool”. Rue turned to the crowd “and let this be a lesson for the rest of you”. Everyone agreed and with that the fight between the swan and the raven was over. “Aww” said a boy in the crowd “I wanted to see a fight between two ballerinas”. “Yeah, we want a fight”. “Well, you don’t get one” said Rue. “I don’t want to fight Emily anymore” she put a hand around Emily’s shoulder. “Do you want to fight me”. “No I don’t wanna fight you, I wanna dance”. Rue smiled “maybe another time”. “Boo, boo, we wanna fight, fight, fight, fight”. The crowd was getting more unruly, and Rue was getting agitated. “OH FOR PETE’S SAKE SHUUUUT UUUUPPP” came a loud unruly voice. Everyone turned to find Bakugo standing up on a statue. “Hey, you’re not suppose to be up there, get down”. Bakugo leaped and landed next to Rue an Emily. “If you wanna get into a fight, then why don’t you stop playing with the princess and fight me”. Rue had a smile on her face at the utterance of Bakugo’s challenge. “All right I’ll take you up on your challenge, would you like to fight Bakugo with me Emily”. “What? Me? Oh no, no I don’t think I can fight him again”. “Suit yourself then”. Rue transformed into her ballerina form as Emily got out of the way. Rue and Bakugo faced off as the crowd was getting wiled up again. The next day everyone was gathered in the ballet studio for the ballet class. As everyone was about to leave, “excuse me” said the teacher. “Will you all stay for a special announcement”. “I wonder what is this for” asked Kirito. “Oh” said a nervous Emily. “I hope I’m not being punished for the fight I had with Rue yesterday”. Everyone took their seats as the teacher began. “As you all know, there was a little commotion between Rue and Emily yesterday. While I’m glad that the two were able to resolve their differences between each other. I bear some responsibility for the incident in the first place. Let me make this clear, Emily transforming into Princess Tutu for the competition was not okay. It was something that I should’ve put a stop to right then and there and prevented this whole incident. Emily” “yes?” “have you learned your lesson”. “I have, and I am sincerely sorry for causing so much trouble for you Rue, and everyone else”. “Rue?” “I am sorry Emily, and would you mind if you would care to dance with me?” This caused quite a stir among the students. Emily gave Rue a huge smile “I would love to dance with you”. The two took their positions and began to do a simple dance. Rue started doing more flashy moves at first, but realized that Emily was having a hard time keeping up and began to do more simple moves. “Do you trust me”? She whispered to Emily, “yes, I do” she replied back. Rue grabbed her waist. “Lean back” “Rue I,” “shhh” she placed her finger on Emily’s lips. “Just trust me”. She nodded and the two did an elegant pose, with just a hint of sensuality. The crowd cheered at this move. The woman and the girl got out of their pose and did their bows to the massive applause that was amplified as it echoed throughout the studio. Later on, after class Emily and her friends were talkimng under the tree. “You know” said Naru. “You and Rue made quite a couple”. “Really?” “yeah, everyone in school were talking about how cute you looked next to Rue, and how Rue was so stoic. It was as if Rue was a prince and you were her princess”. “M-m-me? Rue’s princess” Emily’s face got really red. “OOOHHH, it looks like someone’s got a crush on the prince” everyone started laughing. Rue and Camile got out of the shower together, making their way to their room. “You want some tea?” said Rue as they got in and close the door. “Oooh, yes please” said Camile as she undressed and lounged on the couch. “Thanks honey” as Rue served her a cup of tea. “You know, from the way that you were dancing with Emily. I would say that you had feelings for her”. “That’s just me letting off some steam” Rue said dismissively with a smile.

Heart of stone chapter 3

When I arrived at Wally’s for my shift the next morning, Jim was waiting for me by my locker in the break room. He didn’t say anything to me a first, but he looked like he was steaming over something. He stepped aside so that I could open my locker and deposit my things inside. Pretending to be preoccupied, I ignored the indignant look that he threw at me and glanced down at the broken screen of my cell phone. I made a mental note to stop by the cell phone store tomorrow morning to see about getting it replaced.

 “Are you even going to say hello?” Jim eventually spat out.

 Yep, he is definitely pissed off.

 “Um…hi, Jim.”

 I didn’t know what else I could say. I wanted to avoid engaging in a conversation that would inevitably lead to one thing, and I didn’t have the energy to deal with Jim’s advances today. I was tired and irritable from a restless night. Dreams of Justin Stone’s blue eyes haunted me all night, making it impossible for me to concentrate on much else this morning.

 “Your bruise looks pretty nasty,” Jim informed me in a cynical voice.

 Gee, how nice of you to say. Like I don’t already know. What bug crawled up your ass today?

 I silently counted to ten in an attempt to reign in my temper.

 Be nice.

 “Jim, is there something wrong?” I asked, my voice coming out clipped, despite my efforts to remain patient.

 “Oh, no. Nothing is wrong, really. Besides the fact that I had to clean your coffee spill and your drool off of the floor in aisle nine yesterday.”

 “My drool?” I eyed him quizzically.

 “Oh, come on, Selena. You could barely even speak when that guy Stone was looking at you. I’ve never seen any woman act so gaga over a guy, especially you!”

 “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I said curtly.

 Was I that obvious?

 I made a move towards the door, but he blocked my way.

 “Is it because he’s loaded?” Jim asked accusingly.

 The fact that he thought so little of me stung. I couldn’t explain to myself why I lost my head yesterday. I couldn’t possibly explain it to Jim. Yesterday I didn’t even know who the man was, let alone that he was filthy rich. Jim was so far off the mark.

 “Move out of the way, Jim. I didn’t sleep well last night and I have zero energy for an argument today.”

 “No, seriously – I want to know. I can’t figure you out. You’re always so disinterested, like you hate men or something,” he said in exasperation. “What makes this guy so different?”

 “I’m not having this discussion with you.”

 “You never want to have any sort of discussion with me! I’ve been asking you out for as long as I can remember, only to have you turn me down every time!”

 His voice was getting louder by the minute. I looked around and was thankful to find that we were the only ones in the break room at that moment.

 “I don’t always turn you down,” I weakly replied.

 “No, you’re right. You always put me off instead.”

 Ouch.

 He was right about that one, but it hurt all the same. I took a deep breath to calm my own rising temper, and resigned myself to the inevitable. I should have been more truthful a long time ago.

 “Look, Jim – I could apologize, but I really have nothing to apologize for. I just have no interest in dating.”

 “Why not? Are you a lesbian or something?” he asked, reaching up to scratch his head in confusion.

 “No, I’m not a lesbian,” I said with a light laugh, momentarily amused.

 “This isn’t funny to me, Selena.”

 He was right. Making light of this wouldn’t help the situation and I sobered almost immediately. I had to make sure he understood my position once and for all.

 “I’m going to be honest here. You’re a great guy and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you don’t want to be with someone like me. Besides, you and I both know that there’s nothing there. No spark,” I finished frankly, waving my hand back and forth between the two of us. “At least not for me anyways.”

 I tried to be gentle, conscious of his feeling towards me, but I was sure that I came off as a crotchety bitch. I sucked in situations like this.

 He stared at me for a long moment, taking in what I had said. I watched his face fall and his shoulders slump, all of his anger slipping away to a look of defeat. He looked down at his feet and shifted his weight from side to side. He looked so deflated.

 Maybe I’m being too harsh.

 When he looked up, his eyes were pained with rejection.

 “Well, at least you’re giving it to me straight for once, even though I sort of knew all along. It just sucks hearing you say it out loud.”

 “Jim, I’m sorry. Really I am. I don’t mean to hurt you.”

 That was the truth, and it killed me to see his desolate expression. Although I found Jim to be somewhat annoying, he was still a decent guy. It would have been so much easier if I had just lied and told him that I was a lesbian.

 I’m such a jerk.

 I moved towards the door again, unable to look at him any longer. This time, he didn’t block my way.

 “Selena?” he called after me. I paused in the doorway, afraid of what else he might say.

 “Yes,” I answered hesitantly.

 “Your spark is in aisle nine.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “Stone. He was asking for you a little while ago.”

 Oh, shit! Justin Stone is here?

 My heart began to race at the thought of seeing him again. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why that beautiful man would want to see me of all people. But more importantly, I didn’t understand why I became instantly excited by the mere idea of laying eyes on him again. That was a confusing concept that I’d have to delve into later.

 I tried to keep control of my composure, not wanting to look too eager and risk hurting Jim even more. I made a conscious effort to steady my voice and sound indifferent.

 “Mr. Stone is looking for me. Are you sure?” I asked evenly.

 “Yeah, he’s here. You’d better get a move on,” Jim said with a lazy shooing motion of his hands. “I get the impression that he’s not the kind of man that likes to be kept waiting.”

 Say no more.

 “Thanks, Jim.”

 I turned to go, struggling to walk at a reasonable pace. It was hard to keep myself from running all the way to aisle nine.

 As I rounded the corner of aisle nine, I noticed that the end cap had been changed. The racking no longer stuck out. I moved to look at the new display, but stopped short when I saw Justin Stone standing just a few feet away. He was facing away from me and didn’t see that I had come up behind him. I couldn’t help but pause to take in the view.

 He was wearing a suit again today, although this time it was navy blue. He had removed his suit coat and had it draped casually over one arm. Without the coat, I was able to faintly see the outline of his well-muscled back and shoulders through his pricy white collared shirt.

 My gazed moved down past his tapered waist to his perfectly tailored pants. They looked as if they were made specifically to fit that magnificent contoured ass beneath them.

 Boxers or briefs? Or maybe he just goes commando.

 My cheeks flushed pink at the thought and my hands clenched tight, fighting against the urge to reach out and touch him.

 Down, girl!

 He had a shopping basket of groceries in front of him, which I found to be somewhat strange. I didn’t think millionaires shopped for their own groceries. I had always thought that they had a hired minion to do it for them. Out of pure curiosity, I chanced a quick glance in his shopping basket. A could see a few boxes of pasta, almonds, bananas, chocolate, eggs, olives, honey, and pomegranate juice. It was certainly a peculiar combination of food items to say the least.

 As if he finally sensed my presence, his shoulders squared and he slowly turned to face me. And there it was – the spark.

 My heart began a steady pitter-patter that quickly evolved into a strong thumping in my chest. He was even better looking than I remembered – the definition of pure male beauty. He skipped wearing a tie today and I had to try very hard not to look at the small area of skin that was revealed near his collar. I had no trouble imaging myself unbuttoning that neatly pressed shirt and running my hands over his chest, down his abdomen...

 Get ahold of yourself – you’re thinking like some hormone-crazed teenager!

 “Miss Cole,” he said with a short nod, the two words sliding over me like warm whiskey.

 “Hello, Mr. Stone. I heard you were looking for me,” I said evenly, proud that I was able to sound controlled despite the fact that the man had the ability to turn my knees to liquid.

 “Indeed I was,” he said. He was chewing gum. Justin Stone chewing a piece of gum was probably the sexiest thing I had ever seen in my life.

 “Was there something you needed?” I courteously asked, while watching his jaw move up and down over the piece of gum.

 A slow leisurely smile began to form on his face, and he waited a moment before responding.

 “I just wanted to see how you were doing after your fall yesterday.”

 Of course that’s what he wanted.

 A potential investor in Wally’s would naturally be concerned about the accident.

 The word ‘lawsuit’ is probably a flashing neon sign over my head right now.

 “Oh…my fall.” I tried to hide my disappointment. I felt self-conscious about my black and blue eye and hoped that my makeup did a better job of covering it than Jim led me to believe. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a bump on the head. I owe you an apology for my clumsiness. Thank you for your assistance in helping me up.”

 I was talking way too fast, my words coming out in a rush, but his mere presence was unsettling. He made me feel like a scatterbrain and I found it difficult to stay composed. However, if he noticed my hurried ramblings, he didn’t let on.

 “It was no trouble at all, Miss Cole,” he assured me.

 “Well, it’s like Jim said. I could have gotten up on my own, but I was a little stunned from...” From you. Stunned from you. “From smacking my head on the end cap.”

 His eyes narrowed at the mention of Jim, and I wanted to slap myself for bringing him up. After all, they hadn’t exactly hit it off the day before.

 “Yes, Jim. I spoke with him a few moments ago,” he paused, and seemed to be considering his words. “Is he your boyfriend by chance?”

 “Oh, no!” I almost laughed, but then stopped myself when I realized that Stone was dead serious. I frowned, curious as to why whether or not Jim was my boyfriend should matter. “What made you think that he might be?”

 “He just seems rather protective of you, that’s all.”

 Just great. Not.

 “We’re only friends. We’ve known each other for a long time. That’s all.”

 “I see,” was all he said, although he seemed to relax after hearing my explanation. Either way, the atmosphere had become awkward, and I felt the need to explain more.

 Maybe I should have said coworker, and not friend. I sort of made it seem like Jim and I were close.

 “Well, thanks again for helping me out,” I said, resorting to politeness rather than tack on more unnecessary babble.

 “I can assure you that it was my pleasure,” he said, emphasizing his last word. A hint of humor glinted in his eyes, causing a blush creep up my neck and into my cheeks. It was suddenly very, very warm in Wally’s Grocery Store.

 Did he really need to say the word ‘pleasure’ like that?

 The word rolled off of his tongue like ice cream melting from a cone. A vision of Justin Stone’s tongue, working its way around an ice cream cone, unexpectedly came to mind. Between my overactive imagination and his ridiculously hot gum chewing, I couldn’t stop the wicked ideas that ran through my head. The angel on my shoulder appeared with folded arms and shook her head in disapproval at me. I fought the urge to flick her away.

 A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of Stone’s mouth – almost as if he knew what I was thinking. I fought to ignore my awareness of him by focusing my energies on our conversation.

 Just don’t look at him chewing the gum.

 “Your boss told me that you’ve worked here for a while,” he casually stated.

 Small talk. Good. I can handle that.

 “Yes. I started here after I moved to New York, so...” I did a quick calculation. “It’s been about four years. I’m a student and the flexible retail schedule is convenient.”

 I didn’t want to tell him that I had received my diploma months ago. It was too long of an explanation and I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t found a job yet.

 “You’re a student? I didn’t realize,” he said.

 I could swear that I saw a shadow of disappointment come across his face, but his expression was so impassive that I couldn’t be sure. He folded his arms and considered me carefully.

 “Well, I was a student, I should say. I just recently graduated,” I clarified reluctantly. “Most of my fellow classmates were able to land jobs at the places where they interned. My place of internship closed up shop, leaving me back to square one. Unfortunately, I learned a hard lesson about not putting all of my eggs in one basket, if you know what I mean.”

 I was talking too fast again, but at least I wasn’t being a mute like yesterday.

 “Yes, I do,” he murmured contemplatively. “Do you like your job here, Miss Cole?”

 “I, um…” Another question. “Yes, very much so. Mr. Roberts is really good to work for,” I answered evenly. I wished that he would just spit out the gum. It was distracting.

 “I’m glad to hear that.”

 He shifted in place and glanced down at his watch. He looked like he was getting ready to leave. As nice as the view would surely be, I wasn’t quite ready to see him go. I racked my brain trying to think of a way to stall him.

 “What about you, Mr. Stone? Do you like your job?” I blurted out.

 One of his eyebrows tweaked up in surprise at my abruptness. Whether or not he liked his job was really none of my business. But if he was insulted by my forwardness, he didn’t show it.

 “Of course I do. I would never indulge in anything that I didn’t like,” he replied in a measured tone, mouth moving slowly and deliberately around the piece of gum. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as if he were enjoying his own private joke. “My job allows me to be in control of my own destiny. And I like to be in control, Miss Cole.”

 Just don’t watch him chew. Don’t watch him chew.

 I repeated the chant over and over in my head.

 “Control?” I practically squeaked.

 “I am fascinated with the human mind. Understanding how a person thinks allows me to control a situation. And in my line of work, the only way to be successful is to have the ability to control the will of others. It gives me a certain measure of power, or the upper hand, as some might choose to call it. This can be quite useful when buying and selling real estate. But, with power comes great responsibility and balancing the two takes a considerable amount of control.”

 Wow! That’s a bit deep. This guy’s a total control nut.

 It was definitely not a simple answer for what I thought was an innocent question. But as I processed his words, I thought they reminded me of something you’d hear Bruce Wayne say in a Batman movie. An image of Justin Stone in a black cape popped into my head and I had to stifle the giggle that was trying to escape. It came out as a half snort instead.

 “I’m sorry, but did I say something funny?” he asked curiously, cocking his head to one side.

 “Um, no. Not at all,” I said, attempting to cover up the sudden wave of silliness I was feeling. “I was just thinking that your philosophy about power and control is a little extreme. Cocky…sort of.”

 “That may be your perception, however, I’m not a egomaniacal tyrant like you might think. I just happen to like all of my ducks in a row.” He paused and glanced down at his watch again. “Now, as intriguing as this conversation has been, I have to get going. I’m glad your head is feeling better.” He flashed one last delicious smile at me and turned to leave. “It was good to see you again, Miss Cole.”

 “Enjoy your day, Mr. Stone,” I murmured pensively.

 Ducks in a row, huh?

 I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to ruffle his feathers as I watched him proceed to the checkout line.

 Boy, does that man have swagger.

 On impulse, I strode nonchalantly over to where he stood and grabbed a pack of cinnamon flavored gum off of the shelf in the checkout line.

 “You forgot something Mr. Stone,” I said, and casually dropped the pack into his shopping cart. My boldness surprised me. He stared at me in confusion for a minute, looking like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself.

 I didn’t give him the opportunity to respond. Instead, I threw a coy smile at him and sashayed away, not really sure what to think about my own abrupt and uncharacteristic spontaneity.

     ****

     She left me feeling relatively stunned. Catching me unawares was not an easy feat, yet I had been almost knocked flat by a woman who appeared to be so completely harmless.

 You surprised me, Selena Cole. Maybe you’re not as innocent as I had originally thought.

 I glanced down into the shopping basket at the cinnamon flavored gum, my curiosity piqued. She had initially seemed nervous, but appeared to relax after a bit, revealing a certain degree of audaciousness by ending on a flirtier note. However, any further insight as to what might have been going on in her mind ended there. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t read her. And it was goddamned irritating.

 I proceeded through the checkout line, trying to decide what to do about the unreadable woman. Understanding the interworking of ones brain is what I did best. Pulling apart the many layers of an individual to get to the root of what drove them was a skill. Many took years to master the art, but I had a natural knack for it.

 Until I met Selena Cole.

 Even a Masters degree in psych wasn’t going to help me to figure her out easily. She would be a challenge. She was like a puzzle that I had to solve, the compelling reason behind the return trip to Wally’s. Unfortunately, I didn’t succeed in unraveling any clues, and only exacerbated the mystery.

 She said that Jim was not her boyfriend, but she didn’t exactly say she was single either. So is she?

 That lock of hair that falls over her brow. Did she style it like that or is it merely happenstance?

 The way she twists her hands. Is it a nervous tick or does she simply have cold hands that she’s trying to warm?

 And that delicate blush of hers…

 I couldn’t help but picturing that blush spreading to every part of her. An image of her wide, unknowing stare came to mind again and I shook my head to clear it.

 Just forget her. She’s too young anyway.

 “Your total is thirty-seven dollars and four cents. Will that be cash or credit, sir?” asked the skinny blond that was working the register.

 I focused my attention on the cashier. Her nametag read CASSIE in bold print.

 Mid-twenties, been around the block, on the prowl for Mr. Right.

 One look at her and it was easy to assess that she was the latch on kind of girl. She was trying to look sexy and coy, peering at me through eyelashes that had too much mascara on them. I ignored her. She was cute, but she wasn’t my type.

 If only Selena could be as transparent as this one…

 I pulled out my credit card and absently handed it over to the coquettish Cassie, careful not to give her any encouragement.

 Once my transaction was complete, I collected my purchases and left the grocery store. When I stepped outside, I blinked from the bright sunlight, and reached into my suit jacket pocket for a pair of sunglasses. After my vision adjusted, I saw Hale waiting for me, double-parked at the end of the block. I headed in that direction.

 Hale moved to get out of the car when he saw me, but I waved him off.

 “I’ve got it,” I called out to him. I deposited the groceries into the trunk, and then climbed into the backseat. “One of theses days you’re going to get a parking ticket.”

 “Don’t worry. I have a few connections,” he told me easily. “Where to now, boss?”

 “Back to the office. I have more work to do on the Canterwell deal. Just drop me there, and then run this food back to the house. Oh, and I need you to get with Stephen and gather some information.”

 “Yes, sir. I’ll call Stephen now and have him get started on it. Is Canterwell looking to unload another property?”

 “No, this isn’t about Canterwell. It’s about a person. I want all the information you can find on Selena Cole.”

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