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avaelangel · 5 months

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Convenience store

LiMoreau blurb, yet again. I guess, all of those shorts about convenience stores in different countries got to me. I also want a friend like Jordan to take me on snack runs.

Marie's V-phone buzzed and buzzed again. It took a few more times for her to wake up. Even though Emma was her friend, probably the best, Marie still rose in one swift move, frantically searching for her phone to shut it up. Everybody deserves sleep, she knew that very well.

Wake up.

MARIE I DON'T KNOW YOUR MIDDLE NAME MOREAU.

Please?

She sighed with relief. It's Jordan. They are fucking around, so it's not life or death situation in the literal way.

It's Maria.

''Really?!'' Jordan exclaimed from the outside of the girls dorm room.

Marie only could shake in silent laughter, before getting up to open the door.

''No,'' she let out a delicios yawn.

Right out of bed, Marie stabbed them with a joke. Awful and horrbile, but the more times it happened, the less strength Jordan had to remain neutral in reaction. So the moment they saw their girlfriend, Jordan smiled.

''Come with me,'' they jingled their car keys, ''We are going for snacks. It's a kidnapping. Snack-napping.'' Not good. They could do better.

''Stop,'' Marie took their keys in one swift move, ''Don't wake Emma!''

''Ugh,'' Emma might have been awake since Marie's phone first lit up, ''Just get me a slushie,''

Jordan opened their mouth to say something, but -

''Cherry.''

There was no way out, really. It's not like Marie would like to find that way. She did have an idea to coax Jordan into her bed, but they were determined. Not even dressed in pijamas, like they haven't slept at all. Worry stirred in Marie's mind while she got her hoodie and pulled on her sneakers.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ***

Pretty soon, Marie stopped questioning ways to get out of Godolkin past curfew. The first time her and Jordan were present for something like this started a chain of events that were frigtning to say the least. But it was safe with Jordan. Yes, they could snort and drink a lot and stay seemingly okay. This part didn't matter. Marie went on a weird thought bender, just staring out of the window while the car started.

She turned to look at Jordan. They looked one second away from frowning, but tried not to. Marie wanted to snap them out of it, put a hand on their thigh or something.

''You are starring,'' Jordan remarked.

''If I didn't know better, I would think you are going to give me some kind of iniciation,''

Jordan smiled, glancing at Marie, almost chuckling.

''You've had enough iniciation.''

She really did. For Jordan university life spinned into insanity way more slowly. Being more open. Showing off their potential and growing hopeful, then letting the overachiever out. Then...the expirements came. Jordan wanted and didn't want for Marie to experiment in the same way. Mostly, it didn't feel like hard partying and Marie Moreu boded well. She might just go to hang out with friends. With Jordan. They can decide, who's going to look like the trophy wife next time.

Marie woke up fully in the bright convenience store lights. Empty and bright, the store reminded her of every cheap horror movie and every nauseous thought of walking in the night alone. But Marie and Jordan stood together, while one of them was waiting for the slushie to fill up and the other was taking every flavor of beef sticks.

''Are you going to be okay after this?'' Marie tried to not sound judgy.

''I wasn't really planning to be okay anytime soon,'' Jordan shrugged and showed her a party-sized pack of chips.

All she could do was nod.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ***

One car in the parkin lot was Jordan's, probably looking very creepy in the night. Only when the couple came back with three slushies (craving got contagious) and a bag of random snacks, Marie saw that it was 3 am.

Jordan slurped on their green slushie for almost a minute. Which, frankly, raised concern. But the moment Marie took a breath to ask, Jordan handed her their cup.

''Can you tell what flavor it is? I didn't look,''

Marie was annoyed to have her questions overruled, but she took the slushie and tried it. It was sweet and fruity, though nothing that familiar from what could come to mind.

''It's not apple. Lime or something?'' Another sip. ''Too sweet for lime.''

By now half of a big portion was gone.

''What did you get?'' Jordan without hesitation took the one Marie chose and took a sip. And didn't put it back.

''It's better?'' Marie thought for a second. ''Are you trying to get your brain frozen?''

''I can't. It's impossible. And yeah, I like this one better,'' Jordan leaned on the back of their seat.

''Keep it,'' leaning back too, Marie decided to stare again. Out-stubborn Jordan, while they were wrestling with the jerky package.

''Did you pull me out of bed so I could watch you match your teeth to your jacket?'' her voice was soft and that made Jordan stop. They almost frantically looked at their teeth in the rear-view mirror.

''No...It's kind of stupid. I mostly wanted to see you,'' Jordan sighed, glancing at Marie. Finally, they opened the pack of jerky and started chewing.

''You could easily lure me into your room, but junk food works too,'' she was glad that she said her answer before taking a piece of jerky. It was surprisingly spicy.

''Tomorrow we have class and I won't be able to stomach skipping it. And I am so tired of watching fucking Homelander interviews. Everything turns into empty words with a pretty fucking bow on it. I wish I could at least fucking sleep in,'' Even their outburst upset Jordan, because it was weak.

First, Marie's hands enveloped Jordan's, hiding it with the stretched out sleeves of her hoodie.

''I can't look at those creeps and dumbasses getting attention. Craving it so much. And I want to be noticed too, but those motherfuckers with hurt people and I'm just trying so fucking hard to be at least acknowledged,'' they let out a shuddering breath.

After a pause, during which Marie bit the inner side of her cheek, she spoke:

''You are burned out. It's normal. One skipped day or class won't ruin your ratings. But we also can spend an entire weekend in your room and vibe.''

Jordan looked down at Marie's hands and clutched that supid pack of jerky.

''If I go below the ten, I will fucking explode,'' they confessed, tears welling in their brown eyes.

''The weekend, then. Tomorrow's friday anyway,'' carefully, Marie cupped the side of Jordan's face.

''I found a very convinient time tohave a breakdown,'' a couple of tears did fall, but Jordan still chuckled.

''You are very time-efficient,'' Marie nodded. More then anything, she wanted to squeeze the rest of tears out of Jordan with a hug.

''I am a catch,'' Jordan nodded, relishing Marie's touch for a moment more, ''Do I really have blue teeth?''

''I think you can pull it off,'' her big eyes glistened in the dark. From tears or not - doesn't matter.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ***

The time was crawling up to almost 5 am.

''Give to me!''

''Come on, Jordaan.''

But Marie was left alone in the hall, without her hoodie and half-full bag of snacks. She wasn't sure if she had a sugar rush or a salt fever. All of this was cooking under the sleep deprivation sauce. Jordan seemed to be cheered up by her sacrifice, now taking their final stand. Marie stared at their broad back, that fitted her hoodie well enough and sighed when Jordan pulled on the hood.

''Emma,'' they whispered in lower tone. Emma didn't move at first, but then groaned.

Emma slowly turned away from the wall, just to see tall figure howering over her bad. Her eyes widened. Then squinted, making them giggle.

The figure gave her a huge slushie with beef sticks around the cup held with a rubber band.

''Probably should put it in the fridge,'' Jordan held it in for too long.

''You fucking dick,'' Emma let out a sigh, taking her slushie and taking a big sip, ''The only reason you survive this is because I'm thirsty,''

''Good night,'' Jordan glanced at Marie, deciding to leave Emma alone.

''Sorry!'' And the door closed for the final time this night.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ***

Jordan stared in the ceiling. With Marie snuggled up to them, most of the burden seemed to dissipate. Something still kept their pretty heavy eyes open. There's no reason to worry about their skills. Would they be able to overcome another obstacle the school puts in front of them?

Marie murmured something along a lines of ''don't...fucker'' and that pulled Jordan out of their spiral. They let out such a deep sigh, it was comical how Marie's head rose and fell with their chest.

''Fucker,'' she said it again.

It took everything in Jordan not to laugh. Time to sleep. Or their girlfriend will at the very least give them shit for being self-destructive.

Maybe, Jordan could lure Marie into sparring together. To relieve stress.

#gen v #jordan li #limoreau #marie moreau #emma meyer #mariejordan #it feel like i'm losing the grip on reality and my writing #but i hope it's the vibe still

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snailsandpuppy-dogtails · 2 years

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Weathering The Storm

Happy Fic Friday! (idk if it's a thing, but it's Friday and I have finished this fic!) So this was what I had originally started for a flufftober prompt, but it really wasn't turning out fluffy and after consulting @bacchicly and @darcyfangirlsfrequently and even giving vague descriptions of my story and my issue to my sister who gave some very good, suggestions....it's finished. It's not a fluff piece, by the time it's bones were built it wasn't meant to be one. But this is too long already. Ok

Penelope and Luke are caught in a storm. WC: 5,153 (i'm sorry it's so fucking long) AO3 link

It’d been an exhausting, but fun day out with Matt, Kristy, and the kids. It was supposed to be a family trip, but Chloe refused to get dressed until “uncle” Luke had been invited, and then Lily joined, and soon the whole Simmons brood were sitting in protest until he was on the phone. Immediately upon answering a chorus of begging rang out, sweet voices he never turned down. After all, a good uncle does what he can to make his niblings happy, blood or not.

So, what he planned on being a quiet morning at home, turned into a chaotic apple orchard adventure out in the country that he was more than happy to be a part of. He’d eaten his fill of fresh-from-the-vat mini apple cider donuts, saved countless cider slushies from the ground, danced with his favorite girls to live banjos and violins, navigated corn mazes with Jake as their guide, and walked miles with kids on his shoulders through rows and rows of shorter-than-expected apple trees. By the time the kids had hit a wall it was late afternoon and clouds were rolling in.

He was walking away with two jugs of fresh-pressed cider, a small bag of apples, and some very happy kids, but as much as he enjoyed the trip, he couldn’t help but feel the day was missing something. Someone. Someone who would have sweet-talked the bakers into giving up the donut recipe without even trying, someone who wouldn’t complain about walking so far in heels, but would have made her displeasure known, and someone who would have sung up a storm while dancing with everyone, all the while furiously documenting the day with photos. Which is why he was also walking away with something else…something he tried unsuccessfully to buy unnoticed. It had definitely been noticed and mentioned.

Leaving the Simmons’ home, Luke smiled to himself thinking about Penelope. Climbing into his truck, the first drops fell soft on his boots soaking into the raw leather. Starting down the road though, the sky quickly closed in, clouds ripping open, rain hammering down. Even with windshield wipers at full-speed and headlights on, visibility was down to a few yards.

Though practiced with sandstorms and large vehicles, torrential rain, slick roads, and other drivers made him cautious. Slowing his speed, he turned on the radio to the local reporting station. If this was going to be a serious storm he wanted to know. Luke kept a close eye on the cars and lights around him as he wound his way through the crowded streets of the city. His ears perked at “possible flooding” from the emergency system.

Lightning lit up the sky. Luke pressed the break, avoiding cars in front of him swerving to hold against the wind. Everything was gray and dark, fog was creeping up his windows fighting the defrost he had going at full-blast. Another lightning bolt, everything in color for a split second then dark again, but in that moment a flash of sunset orange the next block up caught his attention. Traffic was slow so he was able to track it. Yellow lights blinked off and on, flashers on a pristine old Cadillac, a car he’d know anywhere.

Ester.

It was likely she’d shut down and refused to start in the cold, leaving Penelope potentially needing help. What were the chances? He’d just had a very Penelope day, one that prompted retconned thoughts and a slight pang of yearning just under the surface of his chest, and here she was directly in his path, stranded.

Slowing even more upon approach, Luke prepared to pull over, glad she was on his side of the road so he didn’t have to attempt a u-turn in this storm. As if divine, the car behind her pulled out, leaving a space free for him. Luke pulled up, and, motor still running, called Penelope.

After a few rings, she picked up. “Newbie! My sweet girl doing ok in this storm?” The casual and bright tone threw him. He was currently parked behind her stalled out car, wasn’t he? Checking the license plate, he confirmed.

Nope, yep. It was her.

Of course she wouldn’t come out and say anything. A smile crept up his throat, “Don’t know yet, I’m out actually. On Main. Seems a car with flashers on is causing some back up…”

“Uht…” a small sound escaping her throat, “Oh, isn’t it bad out there?! You should get off the phone- AAH!“ she screamed, jumping at a loud crash of thunder, lighting striking the light pole near them.

He winced, jerking the phone away, then back, “Penelope, where are you?”

“I’m…” She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to tell him. If he was passing by, she could ask him for help. But that was it, she didn’t want to ask him for help. She could handle things herself. She didn’t need anyone, much less Luke helping her.

Getting out of the truck Luke walked up to the driver’s side window and knocked, knuckles rapping against wet glass. Pulling the phone from his ear in anticipation of-

“GAH!” another yelp, her hand flying to her chest as the friendly face waved then jiggled the door handle.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride!” He had to yell to be heard over the storm, the wet splashing sound of cars pulling past them, honking and sirens off in the distance drowning him out.

Brain telling heart to restore it’s natural pace, she yelled through the glass, “Newbie-, what are you doing, stalking me?!”

Icy drops like needles stung his face and hand pathetically poised on the slippery door handle in some long-ago ingrained act of chivalry. “Penelope, come on.”

“Luke, I'm fine, go home!” she said, fluttering a dismissive wave. Like hell she’d let him have the upper hand.

Sure, she was freezing (the heater in Ester had been broken for a while now, it hadn’t been a problem because it had been summer but then time and to-dos got away from her), ride-shares were totally unavailable all over due to the sudden downpour, and the broadcast system had just issued a flood warning. But she would not give him the satisfaction of rescuing her.

Of course it would be Luke of all people to stumble on her in an emergency, just waiting to rush in and be all knight in shining armor.

Sometime between his second request and her internal babble, he’d gone to the passenger side. Penelope jerked her head at the door creaking shut.

“Hey! Hey! That’s breaking and entering!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous she was being. “It was cold out there! If you haven’t noticed there’s a storm going on. I thought we could have this debate while not actively getting drenched.”

“There is no debate, I- I have a ride, so your services are not needed.”

It was a lie. She had no idea what she was going to do, but the second he was near her she felt like the wrong end of a magnet, all push. This obnoxious obstinance lit up inside her when he was nice, which was always. He was always nice and perfect and kind and charming and everyone liked him instantly.

Penelope growled at the descriptions flying through her head, irritation with herself setting in. Why did she have to fight him? Why did she have to try to make him fight with her? Why couldn’t she just be friendly?

She let out a pouty huff, eyes trailing up his face. That was a mistake. Encounter sans rain-obscured window was like Luke in HD. His cheeks were wind whipped and rosy, skin and lips plump, glowing and soft, A perfect model for a Neoclassical painting. He really was just too handsome. How did he manage to look even better after standing in a storm?!

Luke, once again derailing her train of thought, attempted his third round of persuasion. “Chica, unless- and i’m not doubting you could- but, unless you have some magic connection unavailable to us mere mortals you’ll be sitting here for hours waiting on a ride. You’ll freeze in this car, get hypothermia or pneumonia. How am I going to face the team if I let you get sick?”

He was using that voice. The one that matched the puppy-dog eyes he was giving her, the one that was velvet and honey and a little bit sad. One she was sure he’d used a thousand times before on a thousand different women, but somehow he made it sound like it was just for her.

A hail of rain pounded the metal around them, a seam of water collecting and growing at the juncture of ragtop and windshield, running down the interior.

“Come on, you’d really be doing me a favor. Please?” he pleaded one last time, jutting out his lower lip and tilting his chin down to look up at her from his lashes in a stupidly cute way. God she hated him.

It was cold- really cold. Hands-going-numb cold, and Ester was experiencing what was sure to be the first of many water resistant issues that night. Penelope gave her best ‘unimpressed’ face but relented, “Uuuuuuhg. You and that stupid face. Fine.” finger flying up, “But tell anyone and I’ll say you put a tracker on Ester.”

Pouting lip morphed into a devious grin, “I was a manhunter” he winked. “Thanks, Chica.” Then quickly he climbed back out and to the driver’s side door.

Reluctantly she gathered her stuff giving a wistful glance to the leak, lamenting the ragtop and the rain, but, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Opening her door, Luke offered her his hand helping her out. Sheltered from the sharp pelting drops with his jacket, they ran to the passenger side, closing the door tight behind her. He dashed between their cars, Penelope just barely having time to lean over and touch the handle before he was yanking it open and jumping in. Inside the truck was toasty warm, an involuntary shiver racing through her, shaking off the chill as she wiped the drops from her glasses.

Distracting herself from the storm, she pulled a compact out of her purse, thumb swiping at some runaway mascara, “So what were you doing out here in this any way?” she asked, Luke cautiously pulling back into traffic.

His mouth dropped, ready to say something, then shut closed again hesitating. Risking a quick look over at her he sighed, “Pull out the bag under your seat.”

“The- What?” she asked, confused, clicking her compact closed.

Luke rolled his eyes half smiling. “The bag. Under your seat, smart girl. Pull it out.”

Leaning forward she felt around, hand patting the smooth rubber of his floor mats, tips feeling then finding the toothy texture of the brown paper gift bag crammed in the center. Pulling it out she held it with both hands in her lap looking at him quizzically.

“Well? Open it” he laughed, a little embarrassed. Taking a breath before explaining, as she tentatively dug in, “I saw it while I was out and thought you’d like it. I was gonna wait to give it to you, but you’d probably find it anyway.”

“I do not snoop.” she insisted, pulling from the bag an apple-green cashmere scarf with fringe and a jacquard design of red apples on each end.

“You got this for me?“ She was holding it up as if inspecting every fiber, fingers running reverently over the contrasting images and spindling through the fringe. She couldn’t help it, when he was sweet like this, did little things, showed her he was thinking about her…she couldn’t be mad. She couldn’t be anything but melted butter. And in the moment she didn’t hate it, in the moment she just wanted more.

Sheepishly he went on, “Matt’s kids demanded I join them for apple picking...” he shrugged, “I saw it in a shop we were in- it’s all reclaimed so no animals were harmed. You like it?”

Penelope smirked, draping it around her neck, vanilla and nutmeg filling the front of the truck as she untucked her trapped hair. “I really do. Lucky me that you were invited.”

He cleared his throat, not bothering to clear the massive smile from his face, “So what about you, what were you up to and -and where am I taking you?”

“I was supposed to meet up with a friend from my counseling group, but they had a last minute change of plans and I decided to get some coffee and hang out at the cat cafe and bookshop, you know, Puss In Books? It was fine for a while, just gray. When it started to get serious I decided I should head home, but then Ester wouldn’t start as you know. So, home. I was headed home. But that’s so far out of your way and you have to get home and check on Roxy! I hate knowing she’s home alone and probably scared, poor baby!”

Roxy was fine, but didn’t really want to leave her longer than needed. He didn’t like the idea of her alone in a storm this bad, but he also wanted to make sure Penelope got somewhere safe.

He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance over, “Well, I was going to make some mulled cider one of the farmers was telling us about. You could come with, check in on her yourself. Hang out, warm up, keep Rox calm for me- You know, just until the storm’s over. She’d love to see you…”

Penelope’s first instinct was to turn him down, she didn’t want to impose, but she also didn’t want to be out in this storm longer than necessary and he did offer. She caught herself, “-Yeah?”

She hated storms. Thankfully, none ever got super bad in San Francisco, but they still scared her. The possibility of a flood, getting stuck, power going out, lightning causing fires or electrocuting people…The thoughts rolling through her head made her anxious. “I guess that’d be ok.”

Luke glanced over again, checking that her expression matched her words. Just then the cab of the truck flooded with light, the sky erupting with an ear shattering boom. Penelope jumped, hands coming to her head, screaming, then huffed out “fuck!”

Luke took a hand off the steering wheel laying his arm on the center console, palm up “Here, take my hand.”

They were stopped, red light. Earnest concern tumbled in his eyes locked with hers. They darted away, monitoring the traffic, then back. Warm smile, he tilted his head, “It’s just my hand Penelope, if it doesn’t make you feel better you can let go, but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

The soft fibers of the scarf tickled her neck, pulling her back toward him, reminding her she was enjoying this and she didn’t need to fight it, fight the feelings she was having. She could let herself be friendly, she could accept him being friendly. She placed her hand in his as another boom cracked to life above them, shoulders shooting to her ears. Luke’s grip tightened giving her a reassuring squeeze.

One less hand to steer, he kept his eyes trained on the road, but as they went on his thumb made light circles and brushing swoops against the back of her hand. The constant touch and motion keeping her mind off what was happening outside the truck.

Attention fully on his soothing caress and his voice as he made his way home on auto-pilot, she gradually relaxed, easing back into the seat, free hand worrying the soft knit, eyes wandering from occupied thumb to wrist, to forearm to bicep, to neck to face.

His hair was still wet from standing outside her car waiting for her. A few shining drops clung to the fresh ringlets that had shrunk up close to his head, gel melting in the rain. She liked how it made him look; less generic, less perfect, but perfect for him (and a little like a glittered elf).

She felt his thumb tracing ghost patterns on her skin and listened to his low melodic rumble and suddenly, desperately, wanted to reach out and touch him too, wrap a curl around her finger, thread her hands through his hair breaking up what gel was left...

And then he shook their hands, snapping her back. “Hey- I said we're here.” His brow furrowed, a concerned face staring back at her “You ok?”

Before she knew it they were out of the city, parked and waiting in his driveway. Releasing his hand, she cleared her mind making her voice extra chipper, “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go see my girl!”

They had out-run the storm in this direction, but judging by the Mississippis between thunder heard and lightning seen it would be here soon.

—— ——

Stepping into the entryway there was a small whimper and then a jingle, Roxy bounding from under the kitchen table, claws rush-clacking against tile. A dog-sized dust devil whirled around their legs, nearly knocking them down. Happy pants and grumbles sang around them. Both humans sunk to their knees, hands rubbing, fur sticking to damp skin.

After a loving hello, Luke stood back up, Roxy occupied with Penelope, and gathered their things. He hung her purse and his jacket on a wall hook then scooped up his spoils from the day and headed to the kitchen.

It was Roxy, she told herself, that made her feel so at ease in his space, so at home in his home. Pure puppy-fluff magic working its way from fur-tip to fingertips washing away all the anxiety and worry of the storm. Really, what else could it be?

Easing back up she rubbed her hands trying to de-fur them, “So, this cider,” she called through the open space, “how long does it take?”

Placing apples on the counter, he answered over his shoulder, “About half an hour, but once all the stuff is in we just kind of leave it to do its thing.”

Penelope appeared by his side and began unsheathing the two jugs of juice, Roxy now waiting obediently just on the other side of the island.

“Besides keeping Roxy company, is there anything I can do?”

“Well,” he grinned, “I am supposed to cover an orange with these… Feeling crafty?” He shook the plastic baggy as he asked.

Picking up an orange from the fruit bowl and taking the bag of cloves from his hand she gave a face that could only be described as flirtatious, though if met with that assertion she would deny it, “Oh Newbie, I’m more than crafty.”

Cider assembled and simmering away, clove-studded orange bobbing in the amber liquid, the two sat around his kitchen island. Their conversation started with how good the spices smelled and naturally shifted to Luke’s day apple picking. Outside, the thunder shuttered and wind howled, banging against windows and walls, but inside cute kid conversation kept the storm at bay. Penelope interrogated him on his morning adventures, pressing for photos and reprimanding a lack of them, giving an admonishing wack when the photo reel ended after just three badly focused and badly centered pictures.

“Excuse me, I kinda had my hands full!” he laughed, leaning away from the hit.

She let out a disgusted sigh, rolling her eyes, “Men. I swear.” Handing his phone back she picked up her own, “I’m just gonna text Kristy myself. I’m sure she has more.”

Instantly his hand flew to cover the screen of her phone. “NO-“ then feeling the weight of needing to explain “I mean, you shouldn’t bother her right now, you know, thunder, lightning, kids, dinner…“

“It won’t take that long- it’ll be super fast.“ Penelope said, pulling her phone away, but his hand hadn’t released.

Both were looking at each other with a mix of concern and frustration, Luke for not wanting to give Matt and Kristy any more ammo, but not wanting to tell Penelope, knowing he wouldn’t be able to deny the truth should it come to that, and Penelope completely confused and irritated as to why he was trying to stop her from texting a mutual friend.

He sighed, head falling to the side, “You don’t think it’ll look a little strange that the same day I get you a present our paths just so happen to cross and we end up hanging out alone, at night, in a storm?”

And again she was rolling her eyes, “We’re just two co-workers hanging out.”

He looked at her, crestfallen for a second. She didn’t get it, she wouldn’t get it. Him standing here was nothing more to her than Reid or JJ. She might be glad he was there, but it wasn’t how he was glad she was here. Carefully, quickly, he adjusted his expression, sweeping the sadness away.

“Yeah, no, never mind. You’re right.” he’d removed his hand, palms waving in a surrendering signal, but she wouldn’t have the chance as right then power went out, the area around them turning dark, all thoughts of cute mini-Simmons in corn mazes forgotten in the pitch.

“ehhh-“ Penelope made a strangled noise, “Now i’m in a strange place in total darkness for who knows how long.” She faced her phone away, blue glow from the screen giving an eerie cast to everything around her.

“Hey, it’s not that strange, you’ve been here before and at least it’s not a tripping hazard crammed with stuff like your apartment.”

Penelope scoffed at the dig.

Luke’s hands came to her shoulders, rubbing up and down as he looked around the room distractedly, “It’s just the power, I’m sure it’ll come back soon…Until then, we’ve still got our cider cooking and everyone’s fine. We just need to light some candles, ok? I’m gonna walk you to the couch then go grab some from the hall closet.”

Luke’s hands moved as he stood, one traveling down her back and the other taking her hand. Penelope let him, the warmth and feel of his skin on hers calling to attention physiological reactions she didn’t feel up to suppressing just then.

Slowly he led her to the couch and guided her down. “Roxy” he whistled and gave a firm pat to the cushion next to her leg. Roxy dashed over and up, head landing on Penelope’s lap. “Make sure she stays safe.” He was talking to the dog, but Penelope nodded in response, hand slipping out of his to brush along her sleek coat.

She could hear him rummaging around, a curse word tossed out through wall muffled barriers and then the timer went off on the cider. She jumped, Roxy popping up and off her, then sat, hands landing back in her lap unsure if she should move, if she should take care of their boiling pot in the dark.

Deciding it was silly to sit and do nothing, she stood up, “That was the cider’s bell, I’m going to turn it off. Don’t run into me.” She took out her phone, letting the pale blue light guide the short path back to the kitchen.

Exchanging phone for wooden spoon, she gave the beverage a finalizing stir and turned off the flame, deeply inhaling the fruity spiced steam. This wasn’t so bad. This was ok. Luke had a plan, they were safe. Outside the storm raged, pressure causing windows and patio doors to convulse, but inside it was warm and dry, safe, and they had some tasty smelling drinks waiting. She could do this.

“Cups…” she mumbled to herself, opening cupboard after cupboard “Cups, cups, cups…where arrre you?”

After searching all the low shelves, she decided to crawl up on his counter to reach the higher shelves. Luke came back, candles in arms, to the sight of Penelope kneeing the counter, head all but gone. Quietly he watched with amusement at her shifting awkwardly on the shallow granite countertop shuffling to open door after door. Warm, cool, cold, nope, colder… Unable to restrain himself any longer, he put down the candles and crept up purring just behind her “Freezing-” The air crackled in glee, room flashing bright at his words.

The shock of light combined with the suddenness of his presence and the unexpected closeness of voice jolted her, hands flinging free, Penelope losing balance as she yelled slipping from the countertop. But Luke was there to catch her. His arms came tightly around her holding her close to him back to chest, her head landing on the crook of his neck. Heat flashed through her, panic receding to relief washing out and giving way to agitation. She could feel his smile hardened cheek against her own when he turned his head to murmur his apology. “I’m gonna lower you down, ok?”

No sooner had her feet hit the ground than she was spinning in his arms, open hand smacking at his chest “JERK! I could have fallen!”

“Calm down, Drama Queen, I was right there.” he hadn’t stopped chuckling, body shaking with laughter, hands resting lightly on her hips as she doled out the assault.

“Stop! Stop laughing! I am mad!” but even as she said it, the blows grew lighter and lighter until she was just pushing at him, “You’re such a dimwit.” And then she was laughing too, huffing giggles trying to frown.

“Oh, light puns, cute. Clever. Well, since you’re safe now, how about I get the drinks and you light the candles?” At that Luke let go, offering her a box of matches and she couldn’t deny the feeling of missing she felt.

Pushing it aside, Penelope set up a few candles on the island, lighting them, then moved to the living room, putting candles on the coffee table, the tv consul, and bookshelf, any place an open flame could safely perch.

Job finished, she took up her spot back on the couch, Roxy by her side. The room was a soft golden glow, flickering shadows cast to the walls. Luke walked in, two mugs in hand and a thermal pitcher for refills and set them down on the coffee table. Raising a single finger, he was headed into the kitchen again. When he came back he was holding something else.

“The final touch-” he held out the bottle she’d given him at the housewarming all that time ago, giving it a shake.

It took her a moment to make out the label, realization dawning when she did. “You never opened it-” it wasn’t so much a question as an observation, but he felt the need to answer just the same.

“Yeah. We were waiting for the right time, guess it never came… But I was thinking, what better time than the present.” grinning, “Drinks up, Chica?”

A sweet smile twitched into place at the silly callback. Nodding her head, she agreed, “Drinks up, Luke.”

—— ——

Finishing off her fifth of the night, Penelope placed her empty cup down, the question bubbling up warm like the spiked cider they’d made, “So what about this” she said, fingering the scarf, “said ‘Penelope Garcia’?”

They were both a little drunk, half the bottle having gone missing some place between first drink and fifth, but what else was there to do in a power outage with no other entertainment than the company with you? Especially when you didn’t want others to know the company you were keeping. They drank and talked, and talked and drank, and giggled and laughed. Stories about his siblings and his mom, stories about her brothers and her time as a law-breaking deviant hacking warrior. They talked about everything until she could keep the question off her tongue no more.

Turning on the couch to face her, he took her in, all open and smiling. She was cozy and relaxed. More relaxed than he could ever remember seeing her despite the liquid uproar pummeling every solid object outside.

Placing his mug on the coffee table, he lightly grabbed the ends of her scarf tugging them from her grip. Her stomach dropped as his hands brushed against hers. His gaze danced from scarf to face, unable to settle on one, but her eyes were glued to his, yellow flames from the candlelight turning brown irises gold.

Settling on scarf, his fingers dragged up and down the knit, contemplating, taking in the feel of soft fibrous friction catching against calloused skin, moment stretching out taut and tense. Moment like minutes, breath held tight, she observed his singular focus in the flash that illuminated them both.

Gradually he began rolling it around his hands, scarf getting shorter and shorter. “There’s something about you Penelope… Different….Unique.” At that his eyes caught hers, then dropped again, this time only fractionally, only as far as her lips. “But do you wanna know what it really was?”

She was entranced, stuck, on the edge of a cliff wanting to leap instead of backing away. She swallowed, jaw dropping and nodded.

He continued wrapping his hands, bringing her imperceptibly closer. His voice grew low until it was barely a whisper, “It was soft…and bright…and warm. Like you.” She let herself be drawn closer and closer, every pass of his words on her skin sending electricity racing over her, heart pounding like the rain.

With a final twist he brought her to touch. “It keeps out the cold…” was murmured in the atoms between them and then slowly, torturously his mouth moved against hers, both breathing in in anticipation of something they’d each wanted for so long but denied, resisted, and pushed aside. Sliding and pressing, tilting and turning until the right angle was found and they were repelling magnets no more, suddenly all unbreakable attraction. Electricity between them crackling to life like the thunder lighting the room. Her hands sweeping and turbulent, nails dragging, the smooth suction of his plush lips at her mouth, her jaw, her neck, teeth nibbling and stubble scratching in contrast. His hands, the scarf, coming up and framing her face, fingers lacing behind her ears and carding through her hair to hold her to him, a soft gasp taking them both by surprise then spurring him on.

Thunderous hearts beat rapidly, shivers that had nothing to do with rain rushing up her spine and rippling across her skin. His hands chasing the chills down her body and with a quick movement she found herself suddenly mounted on his lap. Kisses unbroken, hands happily kneading her thighs, her butt, her hips, greedily exploring her body while mouth mapped her neck and her chest. Riotous sensation whipping through her lighting her up, head thrown back, selfishly she let herself revel in the feel of his delight before diving back in with eager pursuit, a storm just getting started indoors.

#Garvez #fanfic friday #criminal minds #luke alvez #penelope garcia #some #matt simmons family time mentioned #caught in the rain fic #it gets a little heated

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