#Steve Abnesti fan fic

[chickensarentcheap]

In Too Deep- Chapter Three

Title: THREE MONTHS LATER

Warnings: a sprinkle of profanity, mentions of sociopathic behaviour, depression, anxiety, forced drug use, child abandonment.

Do not proceed if any of these things even remotely trigger you.  Read with caution.  This fic does -and will- contain dark and troubling themes.

Tagging:   @tragiclyhip, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @secretaryunpaid, @residentdormouse, @ninjasawakenedmystar, @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet, @starryeyes2000,  @munstysmind, @mostly-marvel-musings, @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @occommunity​

Tag list is: OPEN

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41822868/chapters/106769604

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, USA

The restaurant sits in the heart of the south side of the city; a quaint Italian place known for its homemade gelato and cannolis and award winning pasta dishes. And they opt to sit on the patio; a table for two tucked away from other diners. Things to discuss that don’t need to be overheard; personal struggles and mental health issues and the battles with the monsters that Spiderhead have left behind.

“It’s kind of all sinking in now, don’t you think?” Mark settles into the chair across from her, nodding his thanks to the waitress that lays cutlery, menus , and pitcher of ice water on the table and then quickly departs. “How real this all is. The fact that you actually have a human being inside of you.”

“A little too real if you ask me.”

Maizie’s mind wanders to that black and white photo that sits in her purse; a screenshot taken of the barely three month old fetus that continues to thrive and grow inside of her. Throughout the entire twenty minute exam, she’d only glanced at the screen once; curiosity getting the better of her when the technician pointed out the heart beat. It hadn’t been for lack of caring or interest; the life inside of her the only thing left to remember the last time she’d felt alive. But it’s the pain that accompanies the reality of her situation; a profound mixture of emotions that range from overwhelming grief to intense rage.

This isn’t the life she expected; a single mother ostracized from family and friends and mourning the loss of only the second man she’s ever loved. A love quite unlike the first she’d experienced; when she’d been a teenage girl smitten with her high school sweetheart and had truly believed he was her ‘be all and end all’. Marrying while they were still in college; young and inexperienced and not knowing a life that existed outside of each other. Ben had been a good man; beautiful and sweet and immensely talented and brilliant. Loyal and faithful and determined to be the best husband he could possibly be; longing to be an excellent provider and protector and to one day become father. Their story had been one of young love; both inexperienced in the ways of committed relationships and the hard work it took to keep things going. Neither ever having spent time with another lover; forming an intimate bond based solely on the knowledge of one another’s bodies and no experiences to draw comparisons on. It had been a comfortable love above all else; two people that had known each other since they were fourteen years old and had seen one another grow both physically and emotionally. Often seeming more like old friends as opposed to spouses and soul mates.

The second had been an intense and powerful love; one that routinely takes your breath away and has the capacity to bring you to your knees. So all encompassing and overwhelming that it lives up to the old adage of ‘love is blind’; a sexual and intellectual connection that os so strong it enables you to see past all of their faults. Desperately holding on to every good moment despite them being overshadowed by the bad; convinced you can somehow change them if you’re just given a little more time and they practice a little more patience and tolerance.

The entire thing had been toxic in so many ways. Two people suffering from tragic events in their past; abandonment issues that left them often fearful and distrusting of the outside world and unable to form healthy relationships or respect the boundaries of others. Quickly and easily becoming codependent; needing their ‘fix’ of one another in order to get themselves through another day. Possessing a lustful and desperate yearning unlike anything either have ever experienced; using one another’s bodies as forms of both pleasure and escape.

It had been dangerous love; turning a normally smart and cautious woman into a neurotic and possessive mess. Somehow able to see past his glaring narcissistic tendencies; becoming both complacent and complicit to his sociopathic behaviour and the clear disregard for the feelings and needs of others. She believed that he DID love her; in his own unique and unhealthy way. And she hated those nights when he’d shun her or turn her away; finding fault in something she’d said or done and needing to punish her for it. Let her ‘know her place’ for even thinking of challenging or questioning him. And she’d lie awake for hours ; wondering whether or not she was -or could ever be- enough for him.

Logically she’d known the entire thing was a disaster; he would -and could- never love, adore, and worship her in the way she wanted him to. He had expressed the desire to be that person for her; successfully weaning himself off the incredibly high doses of Luvactin and admitting to feeling ‘something’ without its influence. He couldn’t explain exactly what he was experiencing; not even with the help of Verbaluce. But he had assured her that he did feel those things for her, and he wanted to be with her; explore their chance at a future and even start a family IF he could ever be satisfied with putting his work second.

He’d been willing to do so; declaring that even if he couldn’t genuinely feel the depth of love she expected him to, he could learn how to express and ‘act’ the part. And while that admitting had left her feeling disheartened, she’d been unwilling to pull the plug; she could learn to accept him for who he was and not who she expected him to be. Isn’t that what love was about, after all? Accepting someone ‘as is’ and not forcing them to change and become an entirely different person? Surely others had and were going through the same thing; sharing a life with someone that was emotionally absent and couldn’t fulfil every single one of their needs. She could live with him loving in his own way; he could study the relationships of those around him and learn how to mimic their reactions and repeat their words. That could be enough. Couldn’t it?

It had all been so dark and troubling; the realization that she could ever fall in love and stay in love with someone like him. That she’d been so willing to sacrifice her morals and her own needs and desires just to have him in her life. Even when things started to unravel professionally speaking, she’d been unable to break away; Aiding and abetting his experiments on others and justifying it all with the promise that he’d given her the day he’d offered her the job. Enamoured by the chance at being part of something bigger and better and the possibility of having a hand in healing and changing the world. She’d been unable to leave; instead encouraging and enabling his behaviour and allowing it to not only continue, but thrive. She loved him after all; the first person to truly make her feel alive since her husband’s death. Someone who was willing to look past all of her faults and her painful past and give her the opportunity of a lifetime in many ways. A dream career while being made to feel beautiful and wanted and needed.

******

“The offer still stands, you know,” Mark says, as he fills their waiting glasses with water. “About Cam and I taking the baby. Just for a little while. Until you sort things out. In your head.”

“I don’t think there’s a reason to resort to anything that drastic.” She lifts her drink to her lips and then pauses before taking a sip; eyes narrow in suspicion. “Do YOU?”

“I know you’re having a tough time. Coming to terms with it. It’s not like it happened under the best of circumstances with the best person. No wonder it’s really thrown you for a loop. And you’ve been dealing with a lot. Having a harder time accepting things than I am.”

The fallout from Spiderhead had been immediate and enormous. Someone had to be held responsible and punished for the crimes committed, and they’d been the ones to completely bear the brunt in Steve’s absence. The moment the sordid details of what had transpired behind the penitentiary’s  closed doors surfaced, devastated family and friends had been quick to sever all ties. While it had been common societal knowledge that drug experiments were being performed on willing participants, no one had expected the often nightmarish results. To the outside looking in, Spiderhead had been a utopia; no bars or guards, inmates allowed to roam freely and socialize, activities provided to ward off boredom, and a menu that rivalled many a five star restaurant. Many times they’d heard that the prisoners were being treated TOO well; given luxuries and responsibilities that hard working FREE citizens didn’t get to partake in. But what went on inside had been another story all together; a twisted and wicked web of lies and manipulation all in the name of control.

But it had been real events surrounding Heather’s death that had been the ultimate nail in the coffin; their testimony under oath completely destroying Steve’s lies to her mother and siblings that it had been a suicide. And because they hadn’t come forward with the truth and instead -with silence- backed up his claims, they were named as co-conspirators; quickly shamed and villainized in both the media and the courts. In the end only escaping jail time of their own because Jeff and Lizzie had testified on their behalf; understanding that they'd been lured by free pretences and then acted purely under duress. They didn’t want them to be severely punished; not for someone else’s deceit and misdoings.

“Things turned out a little better for you,” Maizie reminds her friend. “You were allowed to go back to work. You got another job in your field. I don’t get my nursing licence back for FIVE YEARS, Mark. I think that would bum anyone out.”

“But it turned out okay, right? I mean, you’re not wanting for anything. You’ve been getting that money. Every month. If you hadn’t found out about that AND had your licence taken away…”

It began only a week after the shuttering of Spiderhead; starting with an email claiming to be the executor of Steve’s estate who had found her contact information when going through some of Steve’s personal effects. Her new address in Chicago then tracked down through her own attorney; a courier showing up just days later with a note from an offshore lawyer in charge of diving assets. As per Steve’s instructions, a sizeable chunk of money had already been donated to charitable organizations favouring children; the rest was to be disturbed to her. An initial payment of over a hundred grand followed by generous monthly deposits. She was to be taken care of, he had stressed; the one person who’d looked past his faults and eccentricities and had banished his loneliness. Perhaps he couldn’t love her the way she wanted him to, but he could show it in other ways; wanting her comfortable and secure in his absence.

“Money is good. Money is ALWAYS good. But believe me, I’d much rather be working than getting that money. Because if I was working…well…” Sighing, she drums her fingernails against the side of her water glass. The tears always seem to be there; every time she thinks of him or tries to speak of their time together. It had been far from a utopia, but it hadn’t been that horrible either; they’d shared a lot of quiet and affectionate moments and long, deep conversations behind closed doors. “...I can’t help but think of the alternative.”

“Look, I’m not going to pretend I understand why you’re still stuck in this deep, dark mourning process. Or who you’re stuck in it over. But…”

“A little harsh there, Mark. Don’t you think?”

“I think that it’s misguided and foolish and…”

“My life just didn’t fall apart professionally speaking. I lost someone. That I loved. That I STILL love.”

“I think if you really sat down and thought about what you felt for him, you’d realize that…”

“I know you were against it. Right from the start. When you figured out that something was going on between us. I know that you didn’t feel it was a good fit and that things were going to end up being a complete and utter disaster and…”

“And that’s exactly what happened. And it’s not that I was against it. I just felt you were jumping into things. That maybe you’d been lonely for so long that…”

“How many times are we going to have this conversation? You didn’t like us together. You thought it was a horrible decision; getting involved with Steve. And maybe you don’t understand why I felt…FEEL..the things I do, but they make sense to me.”

Mark arches an eyebrow. “They do?”

“You didn’t know Steve.”

“I didn’t know him? I worked with him…for him…for two years. I think I knew him pretty well. And you know what else I think? I think you don’t need to be reminded about just how screwed up he really was. Look what he was doing. At Spiderhead. Everything was for his own benefit. His own gain. It might have started out with somewhat rational expectations, but…”

“We went along with it, Mark. Even when things went right off the rails. It’s not like we fought back. We didn’t stand up for ourselves or for everyone else. We just let it go on. At some point you must have realized the whole ‘save the world’ bullshit was just that.”

“Not until it was too late. Not until…”

“We crossed a lot of lines. Way before Heather ever killed herself. We might not have played as big of a part in it all, but we stayed played a part. We had every opportunity to walk away. And we never did. For whatever reason.”

“There’s too few geniuses in the world. It was a dream job. Until it wasn’t anymore. Until it became a total nightmare. I wanted to work with someone like that. You wanted to sleep with them.”

“Oh please…” Giving a derisive snort, she sips at her ice water. “It’s not like I took the job because that was my primary motive. To sleep with the boss. And it was way more than that, okay? It wasn’t just sex. Far from it. Steve and I…”

“I just don’t get it. Of all the men in the world, why him? Why someone LIKE him? You could have anyone you want. Why did you pick him? Because he was the first person to show interest after Ben? Because he made you feel a little less lonely? Because he was rich and good looking and powerful and…”

“Those last three had nothing to do with it. Okay, maybe good looking WAS part of things…”

Mark smirks.

“But it wasn’t everything. Steve and I…I don’t know…I can’t explain it. I can’t sit here and tell you exactly when I felt it or WHAT I felt. I just knew that he was different. He was smart and well spoken and so calm and poised and…”

“Because he was always high on stuff. Because he was never acting like himself. His REAL self. You deserved better than that. Better than HIM.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I do. But I DID love him,” she stresses. “I DO love him. And I don’t expect you to understand it. Or even sympathize. And you might have known ‘work Steve’ but I knew an entirely different side of him. One that he didn’t show too many people. Or ever got the chance to.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What side? What was different about it?”

“A lot of things. He was funny and sweet and he was always so gentle and patient with me. I brought my own messiness to things, and he never held it against me. When I got into a mood or I tried pushing him away, he didn’t take it personally. He knew what I was doing. And he wouldn’t let me do it. He didn’t just wash his hands of me and walk away. He made me feel like I was worth it. That I was worth fighting for . He was the first person that ever made me feel that way. And he was the first person after Ben to make me realize that I was still alive. That I may have lost a lot, but I still had a lot to give.”

“You want me to believe all that? This is Steve we’re talking about. He was unhinged and controlling and possessive and crazy as fuck. He was…”

“A sociopath. Yes, I know. I’m a nurse, Mark. I did rounds in the psych ward. I know what he was. But I also knew what he had the chance to be. And if we’d just had a little more time…”

“They don’t change, Maize. They don’t wake up one morning and they’re healed. It doesn’t work that way. He wasn’t going to get out of bed one day and be a totally different person. Yeah, you ARE a nurse. You know none of that is possible.”

“Nothing is ever impossible. If we’d just had more time and I’d been able to get through to him…”

“It wouldn’t have mattered how long you’d been together. It wouldn’t have mattered how long and how hard you loved him for. He wasn’t going to change. He was always going to be Steve. Maybe for a little while, he could fake it. He could be everything you wanted him to be. Say everything you wanted him to say. But it all would have been bullshit. And in the end he still would have been the same person and you would have gotten hurt and…”

“You don’t know that.”

“I DO know that. And deep down, so do you. And like I said, I don’t pretend to understand why you loved him or why you’re mourning the way you are. I will NEVER understand it. But you’re my friend. My BEST FRIEND. We got out of that place by sticking together. I’m not planning on going anywhere. So if you’re hoping to ditch me…”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of ditching you. I just…” Sighing, she chews pensively on her bottom lip. “...I just wish there’d been more time. Not more time for things at Spiderhead to continue. That was all way out of hand and it needed to stop and we did what we needed to do. But if we’d just had more time together…”

“While he was in jail? Because that’s where he would have ended up. If he’d survived. In jail.”

“But he didn’t.” She struggles to hold back the flood of threatening tears; hating the intensity of emotions that still haunt her. There’s never telling when they’ll tire of being held back; innocent moments and seemingly innocuous comments able to cause a breakdown. And she feels anxious and ashamed; aware of the other diners that intently watch her and whisper to their companions. “I know you don’t get it. Why I’m taking this all so hard. And part of me doesn’t understand it, either. But I lost someone, Mark. Someone I loved. And maybe that love didn’t make sense to you and maybe it would have turned out to be an epic disaster. But for a moment he was mine and I was his and everything seemed right.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Maize. I know it seems like I’m being harsh and…”

“Seems like it? You ARE being harsh. I know you have a huge hate on for Steve and you didn’t want us together, but man….”

“You were going to get hurt. Maybe it would have been okay for a month or two. Maybe it even would have been okay for a couple years. But eventually you would have gotten tired of living that way. Of never knowing if he was being genuine or not. He wasn’t capable of loving you. Not in the way you wanted him to. Or the way you deserved to be. Can you honestly tell me that would have been enough for you? That you could have taken him ‘as is’ and just dealt with it? For the rest of your life.”

“I would have learned how to. It would have been hard at first and I’m sure there would have been many times I wondered what the hell I was doing and why I was even doing it. It would have become familiar. Comfortable. It would have been our normal. It would have…”

“Normal?! What was normal about any of it? It wasn’t like he was just a bit odd and did some weird shit that you’ve had to learn how to look past. There was nothing normal. Steve wasn’t normal. Are you listening to yourself? Do you hear the things you’re saying?”

“I could have lived with it, Mark. I could have lived with HIM. He loved me. In his own way. And I would have learned how to deal with it and been accepting of it. But I didn’t get that chance, did I? I didn’t get a single second with him outside of Spiderhead. Aside from the occasional weekend on the mainland. You weren’t there. Behind closed doors. You didn’t know him like I did. You didn’t get to see those other parts of him.”

“Nothing could have made the bad side tolerable. You can’t tell me you would have been happy living like that. I know you think I’m overreacting. Or that I’m being way too harsh. But everything I’m saying is the truth. You deserved better than what he could ever give you. You deserved better than HIM.”

“Look, I appreciate you looking for me. Just like I appreciated it at Spiderhead. When we were there, you ALWAYS had my back and supported my decisions. And you always stuck by my side; even when I challenged Steve on things he was doing.”

“You know…” A grin tugs at the corners of Mark’s mouth. “...you were the only one who could ever do that. Stand up to him. At least successfully. A few times I thought for sure I’d come in the next day and you’d be gone. That you’d piss him off just enough to get the axe.”

“Steve never would have gotten rid of me. He liked having me around too much. He once said that he liked how I made think; maybe even a little too much at times. I think deep down he enjoyed it; a woman refusing to back down and not afraid to put him in his place.”

“You definitely could get away with things no one else could. Mind you, considering there’s a baby in you, it’s safe to say why he let you push the envelope. Must have been treating him pretty good. Behind closed doors.”

“I don’t think he had any complaints. At least not ones he brought up. When things were good, they were really, really, REALLY good. It was like nothing else existed outside the two of us; we could be exactly who we were meant to be. We could shut ourselves away from the outside world and just be Maizie and Steve. And he WAS different. He was thoughtful and sweet and was always trying to make me smile or laugh. He was attentive and patient and he was fun to be around. And maybe it was because he assumed that’s what men are like in relationships; he was merely giving me what he believed were realistic expectations. But it was good. It FELT good. It felt right.”

“And how would it have felt when it all came crashing down? When he got tired of playing a role? It wouldn’t have been pretty. And you know it.”

“I would have crossed that bridge when I got to it. Steve and I could have made things work. I KNOW we could have. But we never even got the opportunity. And now…”

Her voice once more trails off and her hands come to rest on either side of her stomach. She’d noticed it this morning; when she’d stepped out of the shower and caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. A slight roundness that hadn’t been there before; the evidence of the life growing inside of her. And while easily hidden by her clothes, eventually it will be noticeable to everyone who glances her way; she’ll be unable to escape the congratulatory smiles and comments and the curious questions about when she’s due and what she’s having. And it’s all so bittersweet; having to go through the entire process alone and not having a partner to share the excitement and the nervousness with. And she’s both happy and terrified at the same time; excited at the prospect of being a mother, yet worried about the painful memories and loneliness and longing that her baby will bring about.

“Just remember, you’re not in this alone,” Mark reminds her; his tone transitioning from harsh and scolding to soft and reassuring. “Cam and I will be there. Every step of the way. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. And if you feel you’re not ready and you need us to take the baby for a bit…”

“I am not giving my baby away. Not even to you. Not even temporarily. I’ll be fine. I’ ve got six and a half months to go, and by the time they’re ready to be evicted, I’m sure I’ll feel a lot better about things. But right now? Right now it’s tough. REALLY tough. And I know you don’t understand why I’m so sad and why I miss him as much as I do, but at least give me the space to feel the things I do, okay? I have a right to feel them.”

“You do,” Mark agrees. “And I’m sorry; if I was too heavy handed. I just want you to realize you’re worth more than that. More than what he could give you. You deserved better. So much better. And one day, you’ll realize that too.”

“Maybe I will. But right now? Right now I miss him. A lot. And I wish he was here. I have his baby inside of me, Mark. I know you hate him. And you have every right to. But I AM carrying his child. And you talking about him like you are? It’s not making any of this any easier on me.”

Mark holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. But you know how much he gets to me; everything he put us through and everything he did to people. Once you start talking about him, it just sets me off. I don’t do it to upset you.”

“I know you don’t. But I am going through some real shit. I’m constantly nauseous and I’m not sleeping properly and I’m stressing out over everything under the sun. I’m hoping it’s just hormones. Some women just have a lot more than others and completely suffer from day one and keep suffering right until the bitter end . Others only go through hell the first trimester. I’m hoping I’m the latter.”

“I hope you’d take what I’m about to ask the wrong way, but…”

“Oh god, Mark. What now? How much more do I need to say? You’re not going to understand. Why I fell in love with Steve. Why I’m still in love with him. Why I can’t get over him. So…”

“No. It wasn’t anything like that. It was about the baby, actually.”

“Okay…”

“Do you think it’s hereditary? Sociopathy? It’s a mental illness, right? It’s something wrong in the brain. And I’ve looked into it a little bit and doctors are at odds at whether or not it can be passed down. Do you think it is? Do you think the baby could be the same way?”

“I can not believe you’d even ask me that. The baby isn’t even born yet. I have almost seven months to go. And you’re already worrying they’re going to be like their father? What the hell, Mark?”

“You have to admit that it’s concerning. That they could start showing signs of being that way. There’s well known cases; kids in grade school doing some pretty messed up shit and raising all kinds of alarms. You haven’t thought about that? That it could happen?”

“No. I haven’t. And you want to know why? Because I’ve been too busy worrying about whether my baby is going to be healthy or not. I just want to get them safely into the world. I can worry about anything else that might crop up AFTER they’re born. I can’t believe you’d even think about that, let alone say it.”

“I was just curious. How you would deal with it. If they DID turn out to be like him. It’s kind of sad, don’t you think? That it’s a possibility?”

“There’s also a possibility that they’ll end up being a genius. Hate him all you want, but he WAS a genius, Mark. He was insanely intelligent. And if that’s the part that my baby inherits from his father, I’ll be grateful. If it’s something else…I don’t know…” she shrugs. “...I’ll deal with it. Just like I dealt with Steve. But can I at least give birth first? Before you start condemning my kid? I know you hate their father, but…”

“I don’t hate him. I’ve never hated him. I felt sorry for him, if anything. Growing up like he did, being as troubled as he was. Is it any wonder he turned out like he did? Something had to go wrong while he was a little boy. For him to end up that way.”

“A lot of things can cause it. Maybe he was born that way. Maybe he inherited it from someone. Or maybe he was a product of his environment. His mother was only fifteen when she had him. His dad was almost twenty! That’s a little screwed up in itself. And when he was born his mom took off and his dad moved back in with his parents and they helped raise Steve. But they were old and could only help for so long and once their health started to decline, the dad started drinking and doing drugs…”

“I never knew any of this. And I worked with him a lot longer than you did.”

“He trusted me with things. In ways he didn’t trust anyone else. He had a lot of hurt inside of him. His mother never wanting him, never even making an attempt to meet him later on, his dad one day abandoning him at foster care. He grew up in the system; no one wanted the shy and awkward, insanely smart kid. And he was eight years old; he was looked over because people want babies or toddlers. I guess he never really got over it; in some ways he was still that hurt and lonely little boy desperate for someone to understand him. Love him.”

“And you gave him that.”

“I like to think so. I like to think he felt accepted and understood and loved. I hope he felt those things from me. Even if he felt them in his own way. And I know it sounds like I’m making excuses; coming up with ways to explain away the things he did and why he did them.”

Mark shakes his head. “Not excuses. Causes.”

“Can we not do this anymore?” Maizie hopefully inquires. “ Talk about him? Because it’s been really bad lately and if we keep talking about him like this, I’m going to have a complete meltdown. And it’s going to be crazy embarrassing. For both of us.”

Reaching across the table, Mark lays his head atop of hers; squeezing tightly as he flashes a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay. It’ll get better. A little bit each day.”

“But I’m always going to have a reminder. There’s always going to be part of Steve that lingers on. A little human being that’s going to make me think of their dad every time I look at them. And it just kind of sucks, you know? That he didn’t even get to know. Let alone get to be a part of things.”

“Do you think he would have wanted to be? A part of it?”

“I don’t know,” she admits with a shrug. “But I like to think so.”

****

An hour and a half later, they find themselves taking the long way back to Maizie’s apartment; sipping on iced chai lattes as they walk arm in arm. Chatting amicably and laughing at one another’s bad jokes and engaging in playful, lighthearted teasing. It’s comforting to have Mark around; the one person who knew exactly what kind of monsters were lingering in the dark corners of her mind. He often faces his own demons after all; the images of Heather’s bloody corpse lying at his feet and the guilt that eats away at him whenever he thinks of how willing and complacent he’d become to the experiments. All in the name of science and ‘saving the world’.

“I need to ask you a question,” he says, as he tosses his empty cup into the closest trash can. “About the money.”

“Whatever you need. Just give me an amount and I’ll make it happen.”

“No. Not that. I don’t need anything. It’s something else. That’s been bugging me since you got that letter. Something I can’t get out of my head.”

“We’re not going to launch into another episode of ‘let’s make Maizie feel like complete and utter shit for her life choices’ are we?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I think we’ve had enough of that today. And I’m not bringing this up to upset you. Like I said, it’s just sitting inside my brain. I’ve held off as long as I can and really need to just get rid of it.”

“Sounds mysterious. What’s it about?”

“Did you ever actually see this lawyer? The one that contacted you? About Steve’s estate?”

“You mean like a facetime or Zoom kind of thing? No. There never seemed to be a reason to.”

“You’ve never actually spoken to them? Even on the phone?”

“No need to speak to someone when email and text messaging exists. You know me, Mark. I HATE talking on the phone. I don’t even answer for the people I DO know. Everything that had to be taken care of and settled was done through different channels. That we both feel comfortable with.”

“Kind of strange, isn’t it? Not actually ever seeing the person.”

“He’s in Barbados. That’s where his practice is located. And it was all pretty cut and dry. It’s not like there was anyone to contest the will. It was just getting things handed out and calling it a day, really. Why? You find it weird?”

“Just a little. A will is pretty serious business. And that’s a lot of money that was handed over. It’s not just a couple hundred a month. Or even a couple grand. We’re talking into the tens of thousands. All that money and you just hand it over to some woman you’ve never met?”

“It was in Steve’s will. It was very particular and drawn out; what he wanted done with the money. All the lawyer had to do was follow it. Nothing complicated.”

“But don’t you find it weird that there even was a will? Maybe not a will itself, but the fact that you were in it? It’s not like you’d known Steve for that long. It’s not like you were living together or married or anything like that. If you had to put a number on it, how long would you say it was that things were considered serious? Between you guys?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’d been at Spiderhead for about a month before anything physical happened between us. And that was pretty innocent; just some kissing and making out. It never went past third base, as the kids would say. That took until about three months. Of knowing each other.”

“Which is pretty much when I figured out something was going on. And when was it you were together all the time? Where it was a nightly thing? Where you spent entire days together? OUTSIDE the lab?”

“Another two months after we first had sex.”

“So that’s three months. Out of eight. So things were only serious for about five?”

“I suppose so. We started talking about getting a place together on the mainland. Where we could run off to when we needed to get away from work. He brought up maybe getting married, having a family, giving a life together a shot.”

Mark arches a brow. “Steve brought that stuff up?”

“Like I told you, Mark. He loved me. In his own way. And maybe most of what he did and said was merely him doing what was expected., but there were times it felt more…real. I can’t explain it. But I felt it. When things were sincere.”

“You don’t find it a little bit weird that he’d put you in his will? After only five months of really being with you? Doesn’t that seem a little…hasty?”

“I guess it felt right to him. He was comfortable with me. He trusted me. And I guess he figured that if something ever happened, he at least knew that I’d be taken care of.”

“But that’s just the thing, Maize. It’s almost like he REALIZED that something was going to happen. Did he feel it somehow? That all hell was going to break loose? Did he ever talk about anything like that? Things going bad?”

She shakes her head. “We’d talk about how great it was going to be when all the drugs were a success and they finally hit the market. About how we’d change the world and make it a better place. And how the Nobel would be a shoe-in. There was never any doom and gloom. If there was one thing Steve was infinitely confident in, it was his work.”

“It just seems weird to me. That all of a sudden he went and changed his will. Right before everything went down. It’s almost like he knew he was on borrowed time.”

“I think you’re looking too deep into things. Steve was very detail oriented. Very organized. And having an up to date will? That’s a very Steve thing. He was always crossing every T and dotting every I. He was incredibly anal about making sure he had all his ducks in a row. So no; it’s not too far-fetched that he felt the need to re-do something as important as a will.”

“Something just doesn’t feel right about it. Something is just…off. The timing. It just seems like too much of a coincidence to be one.”

“I think you need to stop thinking so much.” Climbing onto the bottom step of the staircase that leads to her building’s front door, she turns to face her friend; hands coming to rest upon his shoulders. “Stop watching so many conspiracy videos on Youtube, okay? You keep devoting so much time to them, next thing you know you’ll be wearing a tin foil hat. And let’s not go all ‘tin foil hat crazy’, okay?”

“I’m being serious. Something ISN’T right. It just all seems too tidy. And the fact you’ve never actually seen this guy…this lawyer…”

“I’m not the first person to conduct legal business online. And I won't be the last. But here…” Rummaging through her purse, she snags her wallet and thumbs through it; finding a business card amidst the graveyard of receipts and forgotten grocery and task lists. “...take this. Look him up. Call him or email him. Do all the sleuthing you want. If it’s bothering you THIS bad…”

Plucking the card from her hand, he chews thoughtfully on his bottom lip as he studies the information. The pad of his thumb brushing across the raised, gold lettering before he tucks the item into the back pocket of his jeans. “Something just isn’t sitting right. It just seems too much of a coincidence to be one.”

“I think you need to lay off the caffeine. It’s always made you crazy paranoid. But if it would make you feel better, get in touch with the guy. Put your mind at ease. I know nothing I say will calm you down. Now…” Squeezing his shoulders, she leans down to peck his cheek. “...go home, Mark. Go home to that sexy man of yours. Crawl under the covers and have a cuddle. Or crawl under the covers and let him bang the shit out of you. Whatever you kids are into these days.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What I usually do. Lie on the couch and feel sorry for myself while Maury Povich does paternity tests in the background. I don’t know…” She affectionately ruffles his hair. “...I think a nap sounds good. Not enough sleep in the world these days, it seems.”

“Growing a human being is tough, exhausting work. If you need anything…”

“I will call you,” she promises, and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for lunch. The bolognese was fabulous, but I could have done without the never ending stern talking to’s.”

“I’m just trying to help. Just trying to get you of this…funk…that you’re in. I mean, I get it. You’re in mourning. You lost someone that was important to you. But I think if you really sat back and reevaluated exactly who Steve was, you’d realize you didn’t lose that much. That you were never going to get what you wanted from him.”

“What I had was enough. I wanted HIM. And I had him. But not for long enough. I did love him, Mark. I DO love him. And it’s not for you to understand. Or to get on my ass about. It is what it is.”

“Just promise me you won’t shut yourself away. That you won’t give up on finding someone else. There’s a great guy out there somewhere, and you’ll never meet him if you don’t let go of the past and move on. And just so you know, I’d say that even if it wasn’t Steve we were talking about.”

“I’m not exactly the catch of the century. There’s a lot of damage. And it’s going to take a while to unpack it all and heal from it. If I ever do. And let’s face it, who is going to want to date a pregnant chick?”

“You’d be surprised. The right guy wouldn’t care.”

“It wouldn’t feel right. Dating while having someone else’s kid. And I’m going to get all fat and gross. Who wants that?”

“Hey, there’s a whole lot of people on the ‘net that are into that sort of thing. It’s a huge kink.”

“One I don’t want to feed into,” she laughs, then turns on her heel and heads up the stairs. Pausing briefly on the top landing when Mark calls to her; a hand brushing loose, red tresses from her eyes as she looks towards the street.

“Just remember you deserve better. And you WILL find it. You just have to be open to it. You’re going to have to let go, Maizie. Steve’s gone. And he’s never coming back.”

It still hurts to hear. And consider. That pang of loss that settles in your heart; bitter and angry and oh so lonely. There’s no rhyme or reason for it; falling in love with the worst possible person. And grief takes no prisoners; slowly eating away at you from the inside out.

*****

She’s exhausted by the time she gathers her mail from the assigned box in the lobby and takes the stairs to the second floor; bypassing a handful of tenants that have tried to get a little too close in the past. The trial had been well publicized; her face and name and even the smallest of l secrets and petty blemishes plastered throughout the media. In the court of public opinion, the verdict had been six one way, half a dozen the other. One side seeing her as a willing and equally malicious participant while the other viewed her as an innocent; an honest and hardworking woman from a good family sucked into a dark and tangled web and acting under duress.

The first couple of weeks in the building had been rough. Anonymous notes left taped to her door or stuck under the welcome mat; thinly veiled threats to ‘watch her step’ and declarations of hate and disgust. False accusations put into the leasing company; complaints about non-existent loud music and domestic disturbances. The handful of tenants who’d felt sorry for her and gone out of their way to welcome her had helped calm things down, and by the time the money from Steve’s will began flowing into the bank and she’d been able to purchase the unit outright, she started flying under the radar. More people started speaking to her in the elevator and lobby while others would simply make eye contact and nod at her in the laundry room. And male tenants began offering to do ‘odd jobs’ around the apartment; everything from changing light bulbs to painting walls to helping put furniture together. Naturally there wasn’t a shortage of those who wanted to take things further; viewing her as a vulnerable and lonely female that must be dying for some kind of physical contact and companionship. And those hopeful few were always left disappointed; unceremoniously kicked out of her place and warned to never show their faces again.

That’s when the ‘she’s a lesbian’ rumours began. And she vowed to let them continue; a small price to pay to live your life in relative peace.

She barely manages to slip her key into the lock when she hears movement from the apartment across the hall; the shuffling of feet followed by the rattling of the handle. The door squeaking partially open; warm, dark brown eyes observing her through the inch wide gap. Julianna is a common visitor at her place; all of nine years old and being raised by her wealthy, retired grandfather and much younger step-grandma. Desperate for attention and never knowing the gentle and loving touch of a doting mother or the companionship of a sibling.

“Miss Maizie! Miss Maizie!” The familiar voice excitedly calls out, and before she can react the little girl is rushing out into the hallway to greet her. A plastic container of baked goodies clasped tightly in one hand as both arms circle Maizie’s waist. “You’re finally home!”

“I just saw you a couple hours ago.” Taking Julianna’s face in her hands, she presses a kiss to the girl’s brow. “I wasn’t gone for THAT long.”

“It felt like forever. Marguerite and I made cookies. Your favourite! The ones with the white chocolate and the M and M’s in them!” It’s the closest she comes to having a maternal figure; the vapid and materialistic step-grandmother leaving the ‘paying attention’ to the housekeeper that comes four times a week.

“They ARE my favourite!” She gushes, smiling in appreciation as she takes the offered treats. “I thought it was Marguerite’s day off.”

“Dad and Hannah went out.” Julianna rolls her eyes. “As usual. She wanted to go shopping. How much expensive crap do you think she’ll come back with?”

“Depends. How much expensive yet tacky crap can one buy in Chicago?”

“A lot. Where’s Mark? He’s not coming to hang out today?”

“Not today. He’s got things to do at home. Unlike me, he has a social life. And friends.”

“I’m your friend,” the little girl reminds her. “And you had a friend stop by. While you were gone.”

“A friend? What friend? Was it Cam? Looking for Mark? Why…?”

“No. It wasn’t Cam. It was some other guy. I’ve never seen him before. But he was looking for you. He knocked on our door by accident. I guess he wasn’t sure where you lived. He said he wanted to send you flowers, but he was worried he didn’t have the right apartment number. Which he didn’t.”

“Flowers?”

“That’s what he said. He wanted to make sure you lived on this floor. I guess someone in the lobby said you did. I don’t know….” Julianna shrugs. “...I didn’t ask too many questions. And Marguerite doesn’t speak very good English, so…” She blows strands of hair out of her eyes. “You gotta boyfriend now?”

“No. No boyfriend. And not many friends. So that’s kind of weird. That someone would come by like that.”

“He seemed pretty nice. He had a really nice smile. And REALLY nice eyes.” She giggles. “ Marguerite called him a hottie after he left.”

“Was he a hottie?”

“I thought he was alright. I bet it’s some guy who has a crush on you and doesn’t know how to tell you. You know, you should start being nicer to guys. You shouldn’t be so mean to them. How are you ever going to get a boyfriend? Or a husband??”

“What makes you think I want either?”

“I mean, you like guys, right?”

“I do.”

“And you don’t want to be alone forever. No one wants that. I think you should give this guy a chance. He smelled really good. .”

Maizie laughs. “Other than smelling good, what was he like? What did he look like?”

“He was tall. Pretty big. Not fat, big. Just big like the guys that work out in the gym all the time. And he had a nice voice; it was really quiet and soft and friendly. Not scary or anything like that.”

“Anything else? What colour of hair did he have?”

“I dunno. He was wearing a baseball hat. He had sunglasses on, but he took them off when I answered the door. All polite and stuff. Do you know him?”

“No. I have no clue who that is.”

“You have a secret admirer,” the nine year old sing songs. “And he’s hot! You should totally hook up with him.”

“And you should totally not be calling a grown man hot. Stick to boys your own age, kiddo. Or better yet, avoid the male species all together. At least for a decade. But I’ll tell you what; if he’s as hot and as nice as you say he is AND he gets the guts to come around when I’m here, I’ll go out with him. Just for you.”

“Just go out with him? You should marry him. You’re no spring chicken, you know.”

“Hey!” Maizie chuckles, and playfully tugs on one of the girl’s pigtails. “I am not THAT old.”

“Old enough! And you want to have kids one day, right? It’s easier when you’re younger.”

“One day.” She manages a smile; hand subconsciously moving to her stomach.

“You’d be a really good mom. You have lots of love to give. And we always do really cool stuff together. Are we still on for tonight? To do our hair and nails and eat junk while we watch Netflix? Maybe I can stay over? I don’t think dad would mind.”

“If you clear it with him, we’ll camp out in the living room. Then we’ll go for breakfast in the morning. Maybe go and do a little shopping. Sound good?”

“Sounds awesome! I gotta go. We’re going to start making brownies! I’ll bring some over tonight.” Wrapping both arms around Maizie’s waist, she squeezes as tight as she can and then turns and scurries towards her apartment. “And I want to hear all about the hot guy! IF he comes around.”

“You’ll be the first to know if he does,” Maizie promises, and then waits for Julianna to disappear inside her apartment before letting herself into her own.

It’s her sanctuary; a once dated, dark, and ‘boxy’ dwelling turned into something bright and welcoming and refreshing. A lot of hard work and money put into making things exactly how she wanted them; hardwood flooring and intricate cove ceilings with creamy beige walls and pops of colour-courtesy of throws and pillows- paired with earth toned furniture. It had been the perfect project for those early days after Spiderhead; caught in the whirlwind of the aftermath and needing something to stave off the depression and loneliness. Helping with the pangs of regret and guilt; always in combat with the immense anger and the crippling grief that came with losing the man she loved.

Buying and renovating and then decorating the apartment had given her the escape she’d needed; until the quiet and stillness of nighttime arrived and she’d find herself teetering on the edge of self destruction. Moments where she’d stand in the shower and sob; mourning for not only those who had suffered at Spiderhead, but for the parts of herself that she’d lost somewhere during her months of employment. Chest heaving sobs that left her feeling nauseous and dizzy as she stood under the blistering hot water; a form of self inflicted punishment that she so richly deserved. Times where she’d cry for HIM; missing the comfort and the companionship that had accompanied their evenings and early mornings alone. When everything outside his quarters ceased to exist; leaving behind all ‘shop talk’ and recollections of the day in favour of much lighter conversation. There was a comfort and ease between them that neither had experienced before; indulging in a bottle of wine as they prepared dinner together and then enjoyed the meal in candlelight. The physical intimacy they’d later lose themselves in had always been intense; fuelled by attraction, hunger, and immense desperation.

Only once had she caved in and agreed to his use of Luvactin during sex; disproving of his usage and not fully accepting of his explanation as to exactly why he felt the need to indulged in his own product. And that one time had been like nothing she’d ever experienced before; not even with her long time sweetheart and eventual husband. It had been punishing and bruising; an aggression on Steve’s part that both scared her and heightened her need for him. Afterwards she’d be in physical discomfort; thighs aching, scalp burning where her hair had been forcibly yanked, and her sweat slicked body covered in bruises from his fingertips biting into her skin. And while he hadn’t been the most experienced lover she’d ever had, he’d been the most enthusiastic and willing; a patient and diligent student that took his time learning exactly what she needed and wanted and just how to give it to her.

But as enjoyable -drugged up or not- sex had been, their nights hadn’t always ended that way. Replaced by evenings of lounging on the couch and watching television in companionable silence; her head in his lap and his fingers continuously moving through her hair. He’d always loved her curls; the more wild and out of control the better, as far as he’d been concerned. And he’d find it fascinating to take strands of her and straighten them out; amused when -once released- they’d so easily and effortlessly spring back into place. There’d been a boyish charm and quality to him; as if he’d never fully matured in those formative years between being abandoned by his father and becoming a man. And she’d enjoyed his uniqueness; the little oddities and eccentricities that made Steve, STEVE.

Some nights, they’d drift off where they sat, and when she’d waken in the morning, she’d be in his bed with the sheets and comforter tucked tightly around her. He’d been an early riser; up at quarter to five to work out and to finish up any business from the day before. But most evenings, they fell asleep in the confines of his bed; their spent bodies wrapped up in a mess of naked limbs and tangled sheets. Stirring before the sun even began to peek over the horizon; sharing soft kisses and indulging in slow and sensuous love making and the sleepy conversation that occurred afterwards. Enjoying that time together; knowing that in less than three hours they’d be back at work and resuming their roles as boss and employee.

She hates how random these moments are; floods of memories that rush through her at any given time. And she attempts to push them -and him- out of her mind; dropping her keys and her cell phone in a dish on the table in the front hallway before kicking off her boots. Following her newly established afternoon routine, heading for the kitchen and making herself a slice of toast smeared with peanut butter and snagging a bottle of water and the prenatal vitamins kept above the kitchen sink. She takes two of the latter and then goes through the mail as she waits for her snack to be ready; putting any flyers and junk straight into the recycle and the bills into a plastic container next to the fridge. Always organized; needing the simple satisfaction that comes with having even the smallest of things in order.

Especially when everything around her seems to be burning to the ground.

Finishing the last bite of toast, she rinses the plate and leaves it in the sink; sipping at the bottle of water as she pads into the living room. Eyes riveted on the horizon as the once bright and beautiful weather begins to mirror her mood; gray and sullen as dark clouds begin slowly rolling in. The enormity of her situation sitting heavily on her chest; the prospect of being a single mother and the worry that she won’t be able to give her child everything they deserve. And the fear that somewhere down the road, they’ll begin to show troubling signs of an inherited mental disorder; the behaviours that will pay a chilling homage to the man who had fathered them.

It IS a possibility. Inheriting both the brilliance and the madness. And it’s something she’s thought about it often; ever since those two pink lines appeared on the home pregnancy test. Love couldn’t mask the reality of who and what Steve was; genius and sociopathy all rolled into one. But she wants to believe -even now- that somehow…against all odds…she could have fixed him. Given him a life and a love that would have made him ‘snap out’ of it; finding himself comfortable and content for the first time in his life. That happiness enough to bring out some long buried side of him; something compassionate and gentle and sweet that had gone into hiding during those nightmarish first days and weeks in foster care. When an impressionable eight year old boy came to realize that no one in the world loved him.

Sighing, she swallows the last of the water and prepares to turn towards the living room. Her back towards the couch when she hears it; the quiet, yet tell tale squeak of springs that haven’t been worn in yet. She senses his presence before even laying eyes on him; strong and silent as his familiar scent hangs in the air.

“I was starting to think you were never coming home.”

That voice. Low and smooth. Calm and comforting. Yet bearing a trace of simmering irritability and inexplicable rage. And her heart hammers in her chest and her legs threaten to give out from underneath as turns to face him; mere inches between them when they come face to face. She feels faint. Nauseous. The anxiety that comes when a situation seems unfathomable; when you’re not quite sure that you can believe your own eyes and your own brain. And when she finally speaks, her voice is a near whisper. Almost choking on that one, simple word.

"Steve?"

#Steve and Maizie #Steve Abnesti #Steve Abnesti fan fiction #Spiderhead fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #spiderhead #Steve Abnesti fan fic #Spiderhead fan fic #Steve Abnesti x OFC

[arrthurpendragon]

Hi!

I'm Sammie, and I write for the OC community. I originally started writing fan fiction MANY years ago over on another site. It was for the CSI:NY fandom and I absolutely loved it. Currently, I write for the Extraction/Tyler Rake fandom and have a series I've been working on for two and a half years now. I also have fairly rough drafts (handwritten in notebooks) for a Thor/OC fic and a Spiderhead/Steve Abnesti/OC fic.

#oc creator spotlight #fd: extraction #fd: marvel #fd: spiderhead #ocapp #oc community #oc fanfiction #oc fanfic #oc fic #oc fanfiction blogs #oc writers #chickensarentcheap tag

[chickensarentcheap]

In Too Deep- Chapter 2

WARNINGS:

Smut (slight), mentions of suicide, blood, death, child abandonment,  profanity, Steve being a sociopath, forced drug use, manipulation tactics

Do not proceed if any of these things even remotely trigger you.  Read with caution.  This fic does and will contain dark and troubling themes.

@tragiclyhip, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @secretaryunpaid, @residentdormouse, @ninjasawakenedmystar, @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet, @starryeyes2000,  @munstysmind, @mostly-marvel-musings, @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @occommunity​

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41822868/chapters/106601751

My tag list is: OPEN

Maizie attempts to sleep; buried under a layer of heavy blankets on Steve’s couch. Clad in one of his sweaters that she’d snatched from the closet; zipped up as far as it can go and the hood pulled over her head and covering her eyes. She can’t seem to get warm; her body assaulted by continuous rounds of relentless shivers; the heaviness that sits on her chest causing extreme discomfort and making it impossible to get comfortable. It’s as if she’s stuck in the middle of a horrible nightmare; unable to stop thinking of Heather and the bloodbath that she’d burst in upon. She’d heard the arguing from down the hall; returning from a trip to the kitchen for a tea when seeing Heather on Darkenfloxx had become too much bear. Steve and Mark had been at one another’s throats; arguing over each other and throwing out accusations and laying blame on one another . And she’d been ready to play the role of peacemaker until she released what had happened; opening the door to a sight of a visibly distraught Mark and Heather laying motionless in a growing pool of blood.

Everything is a blur after that; recollections of the two men continuing to argue as she attempted CPR despite it being obvious that nothing could be done. And then Steve -without explanation- rushing out of the room and leaving her and Mark alone; blood staining her clothing and hands as Mark -his eyes wide and horrified and his chest heaving- watched her valiant attempts to save Heather. There’d been a slight bit of hope in his expression; a sliver of optimism that Maizie -with all of her education and hands on training and years on the job- would be able to do something. ANYTHING. But the damage had been done; no training or experience could have aided her in bringing Heather back. Not even a fully functioning operating room within Spiderhead would have helped; the jugular mutilated and beyond salvation.. Heather had been on death’s door the moment she collapsed; only seconds away from unconsciousness and mere minutes from a total bleed out and massive cardiac event.

Feeling the cushions sink beneath her, she immediately reaches out, expecting to find Steve’s strong and solid body or his much larger hand. Only to encounter the clearing of a throat and then Mark’s voice: “I’m flattered. But wrong person.”

Her eyes snap open; and she fixes her friend with a quizzical look.

Mark’s smile is sheepish as he offers a mug of steaming tea. “I come bearing gifts. “Strawberry apple. Your favorite.”

Smiling in appreciation, she shoves the blankets onto the floor and sits up; yawning noisily and pressing the heels of her palms into her weary eyes before accepting the beverage. She’s exhausted; mentally drained and in desperate need of some relief. But rest won’t come easily tonight. And probably not for many nights after.

Setting his own drink on the coffee table, Mark sits sideways on the couch; back resting against the arm and his feet folded in his lap. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t. I haven’t been able to sleep. I’ve just been lying here. Thinking.”

“You too, huh? Your mind going a mile a minute? Replaying it over and over and over again?”

“All I can see is Heather. Lying there. And blood. So much blood. I had just talked to her. About twenty minutes before. She was going through a real tough time; she was freaking out because she was pretty sure it was Darkenfloxx she was going to be given. All signs pointed towards it, you know? It was only two days ago that she was in there with Sara. And Jeff was told to pick which one to give it too. And then she was given the same opportunity with him and Rogan. She knew, Mark. She just knew.”

“That’s why she was late? You were talking to her?”

Maizie nods.

“I don’t understand why she acknowledged. Why didn’t she just say ‘no’? It’s not like people have never done it. It’s happened more than once. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“She was scared. She didn’t want to be sent back to general pop. She was already on Steve’s shit list; constantly being disrespectful, always late, causing issues with other inmates. She knew she was on borrowed time and she was worried this would be it; she’d say ‘no’ and he’d freak and ship her off. She wouldn’t have survived. In a regular prison. Not with the issues she was having.”

“If she’d just TOLD him. That she was struggling. Or if she’d gotten you to tell him….”

“I tried. This morning. I tried talking him out of it. I told him that it was a bad idea. That Heather was already vulnerable enough. She didn’t need Darkenfloxx making things worse. I tried reasoning with him, Mark. I told him everything; about how she was depressed and anxious and having trouble sleeping. That I was worried what it was going to do to her. That it would push to a point where I couldn’t help her anymore.”

“And? He didn’t listen or…”

“Obviously he didn’t. He didn’t give a shit. About Heather. He totally brushed off all my concerns. Basically told me I was making a big deal about nothing. That Heather would be fine; no one had ever reacted THAT badly to Darkenfloxx and there was no worry about it mixing with the meds she was on. I tried, Mark. I really did. And if he’d just listened to me…”

“He doesn’t really do that. Listen to other people. Even when they DO make sense. You can be armed with all the logic in the world. If it goes against what he wants, he is going to completely disregard everything.”

“I even tried to convince him to find someone else. Or to wait until Heather was in a bit of a better place. There was nothing it HAD to be done today. It could have waited. There’s no deadline; no set date that everything has to be gold starred by. What harm would it have done? Just postponing things?”

“It wasn’t what Steve wanted. Simple as that.”

“If he’d just listened to me….” Sighing, she sips at her tea. “...if he’d just stopped and listened….”

“You tried, Maizie. You did everything you could. You…”

“I told her to acknowledge. I told her that the sooner she said yes, the sooner it would be over. I convinced her to go ahead with it. I promised her that she’d be okay. That I’d be right outside. If she needed someone. And where was I? When things went wrong? Nowhere around.”

“No one could have expected what happened,” Mark attempts to reason. “No one knew she’d lose it like that and damage her pack and completely flood it. There’s no way ANY of us could have known that was going to go down.”

“We had just gotten civil with each other. Heather hated me from the moment I walked in here. From the second I clocked in for that first shift, I was public enemy number one. No matter how hard I tried to befriend her, she was determined to hate me.”

“She saw you as a threat. Especially when it came to Steve. She was always hoping that something would happen between them. I knew it never would; he’d never cross that line. But she wasn’t going to give up without a fight.”

“I asked if. If anything ever went down. With him and Heather. He looked at me like I’d grown another head. I guess she realized something was going on. Probably before anyone else did.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the best kept secret. You did an alright job, but Steve was a bit of a mess. I figured it out; as soon as he started bringing you chai lattes before every testing session. Steve never gives a shit about anyone else. EVER. And suddenly he’s learning how to make your favorite drink? And bringing it to you? Yeah, I knew. I didn’t understand it. But I knew.”

“What’s there to understand? We’re two consenting adults. We’re…”

“You’re you and Steve is….Steve. You’re normal. He’s….Steve. I can’t wrap my head around it. Why would you want to be around him more than you need to be? Doesn’t he drive you nuts?”

She shrugs. “No more than I drive him nuts, I suppose.”

“Just a weird couple,” Mark declares, and reaches for his coffee. “Maizie and Steve. Steve and Maizie. Totally messed up.”

They lapse into silence. Each lost in a world of their own; consumed with thoughts of Heather and buried under mountains of guilt, grief, and regret.

“Did they come?” She inquires. “To pick up the body?”

Mark nods.

“I cleaned her up the best I could. I know the funeral home will tend to it, but I couldn’t send her off looking like she did. I put her in some fresh clothes, washed her face, brushed her hair. I didn’t want to take the chance her family would see her at her worst. And you know…” Her voice cracks and tears threaten. “....I almost put the truth. On the paperwork.”

Mark arches an eyebrow.

“I came so close. To just letting it all out. And I know I should have. I know I should have had the guts to do it. But I chickened out. I went with the story we all agreed on. And I feel so fucking guilty for that. That I let her down AGAIN.”

“Maizie, you didn’t….”

“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell the truth. Because then I thought about what would happen if the real story got out. What it would mean for us. For this place. For all of Steve’s work. It would all be over, Mark. There’d be no saving the world. There’d be no making it a better place. Maybe Steve was right; sacrificing one to save many isn’t so bad. And I hate myself for even thinking that’s a good thing.”

“We all screwed up. In some way. And now we have to pay for it. It won’t be a comfortable silence. That we live in.”

“How did this ever happen? How did it ever get this far? How’d we ever let it get to this point?”

‘He promised us we’d change the world. All we wanted was to help people.”

“Does part of you still believe that? That that’s what we’re doing?”

“A little part,” Mark admits. “But Heather…”

“She didn’t deserve what happened to her. I know what she did. I know how brutal it was. But I also know why she did it. She may not have been a good person and she may have done something horrible, but she didn’t deserve to go out like that. Especially when it could have been prevented.”

“You tried,” he stresses. “You did everything you could. It’s not like you just sat back and let it happen. You confronted Steve. About it being a bad idea. Honestly, I don’t know where you find the balls. To stand up to him like you do. And I don’t know how you get away with it. Anyone else would have been fired a long time ago.”

“Think about it. Think about just WHY he wouldn’t get rid of me. Think long and hard, Mark…”

“That is the last thing I want to be thinking about. When it comes to Steve. Something long and hard. Why do you do this to me? Talk about stuff like this? Why…?”

“Because I love seeing how flustered you get. And ‘long and hard’ was not about his dick. But now that your mind has gone there…”

“Please no. Don’t. Don’t talk about this. Don’t talk about THAT.”

“You’re lying if you say you’ve never thought about it. Or even tried to sneak a peek. You admitted yourself…when I first started here…that you found him attractive. That if you swung that way…”

“Doesn’t mean I want to be talking about THIS. He’s still my boss. OUR boss. Just because you’re putting in overtime….”

“And being rewarded…greatly…for it. Did I ever tell you about that one time I let him use Luvactin? About how I couldn’t walk right for a week after? I tell you, I had bites and bruises and hickies in places no one ever should. And his stamina is second to none when he’s not on it, so…”

“Oh God no,” Mark whimpers. “Don’t do this. Please don’t do this. I heard the story once. I do not need to hear it again. For the love of…”

“You’re so cute when you get all worked up,” Maizie laughs, and affectionately ruffles his hair. “Thank you. For coming and checking on me. I needed it. Someone to talk to. And i feels good. To be able to laugh about SOMETHING. Even if it is at your expense.”

Grinning, Mark wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her tightly against him. “Hey, what are friends for?”

******

She manages a couple of hours of sleep. Restless and broken at first; haunted by visions of Heather laying in a pool of her own blood and the accusations and blame being thrown around the room. And the sun has shifted its position in the sky when she wakes once more; stirred by the weight of Steve’s familiar scents and the weight of his hand resting on the top of her head. Neither speaking for what seems like an eternity; eyes riveted on each other as his thumb repeatedly -and soothingly- brushes against her forehead. His eyes and his face softer than she’s ever seen them; regarding her with the utmost concern and even adoration. And in that moment, she’s hopeful; his emotions seem genuine as opposed to running on autopilot. As if truly feeling remorseful instead of simply acting the part; knowing what he needs to do and say to make amends, but not truly meaning any of them.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” His voice is low. Calm. Soothing.

She manages a smile. “It’s okay. I tried staying awake until you got up here, but…”

“I wanted to be here sooner…I TRIED being here sooner… but dealing with things took a little longer than I thought they would. I asked Mark to check on you. Did he stop by?”

“He stuck around for a bit. I needed it. Someone around. To talk to. Last thing I really wanted was to be alone. And when you said you’d be right up…”

“I’m sorry. I DID try. To get up here. Believe me, the only thing I was concerned about was you. And how you were doing. But I had things to tend to; loose ends to tie up. I cleaned out Heather’s room; packed up all her things and scheduled the courier to come and pick them up. I tried calling her mother and her sister; no answer at either place.”

“I wonder if they’ll even care. When they do get the news. It’s kind of sad, don’t you think? To have no one give a shit about you? To go out like that and not have a single person care about claiming you?”

“It’s…” He chooses his word carefully; wishing to keep her as calm and appeased as possible. He’s been at the receiving end of her temper; as feisty and fearless as that flaming red hair and her Irish heritage could lead you to believe. And it never ends well when things flare up between; even simple disagreements evolving into screaming matches that terrify Mark and are overheard by the inmates. Always ending in someone storming off; needing time to themselves before cautiously -and sheepishly- looking for forgiveness. “...unfortunate. But when you walk the path that Heather chose? Well I don’t think it’s completely unreasonable; for people to want to cut ties.”

“Maybe if they’d cut ties with the prick that had been abusing her…”

“Hindsight is twenty- twenty, Maizie. Not to mention that’s a long time ago. We don’t know for sure what went down in the house; we don’t know just how far Heather pushed her parents or if her tales about her father were even true. There’s always three sides to a story, yeah? There’s his, hers, and the truth.”

“It was proven in court, Steve. She passed a lie detector test. About what her father did to her. She…”

“You know as well as I do that the validity of lie detectors are highly debatable. That they’ve been proven to be unreliable. People CAN beat them. And they have. If they’re manipulative and deceiving enough and maybe even believe what they’re saying, it’s possible for them to pass. It’s highly subjective; the use and the results. Am I convinced that Heather was telling the truth? Absolutely not. Do I think some of her story may have been factual? Of course.”

“It’s a little callous, don’t you think? Blaming the victim? I know what she did was wrong; she never should have resorted to killing him. But she was a VICTIM.”

“And so was he. A victim. And he was a victim at HER hands. No one else’s. And what you may callous, I call realistic. Neither of us know exactly WHAT happened. Either that night or In her past. But what I DO know? I know that she’s gone and there’s a few of us that are left behind to try and pick up the pieces. And that’s not going to be easy; it’s going to be a hard road. What we saw and heard? It was horrible. For everyone.”

“But mostly for Heather.”

“Mostly,” he agrees. “It was unfortunate. How things ended up. But there’s no way we could have seen this coming. We couldn’t have prepared for it. We couldn’t have foreseen that she’d react that badly and damage her mobi-pack and have it flood. That’s never happened before. A malfunction THAT bad.”

“Mark warned you. When they were developed. That they weren’t made to be jostled. That one hard hit could damage them. Why isn’t there something in place? A fail safe? A way to turn them off? When things go south?”

“I never saw a reason to have anything like that. There’s never been a problem with non compliance before. At least not at that level. I don’t know if Mark didn’t refresh her pack or put a new vial of B-6 in there…”

“You stood right there and watched. When he refreshed her pack. You saw him put the vials in. Why didn’t she respond? Why..?”

“Obviously B-6 isn’t where it needs to be. And that’s unfortunate. But it’s not a lost cause. By any stretch of the imagination. We’ll refocus and regroup and we’ll have things back on track in no time. This isn’t a total disaster. We’ll look into what went wrong and what needs to be readjusted and get back on track. But let’s take a few days. Before we revisit anything. I think we all need some time. To clear our heads. Don’t you?”

She nods.

“We can go away. If that's what you want. If you think that’s what you need. Or if you’d rather just stay around here…”

“What do you want? This isn’t just about me, Steve. I can’t be the only one wanting things all the time. At some point, it has to be about both of us. Otherwise, what are we even doing? Why are we even bothering? If we’re not going to be totally invested in this…in US…”

“What I want is for you to be happy. I want you to feel safe and comfortable. I want to take care of you and protect you. Love you.”

The corners of her mouth twitch; a hint of a smile trying to poke through the misery and despair. “That’s a first for you.”

“What is?”

“That word. The big one. You’ve never said it before. I wasn’t even sure you felt it.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t sure myself. I know I was feeling…something. What it was, I couldn’t quite say.”

“I know it’s hard for you. Feeling things. And I don’t expect it, Steve. I don’t expect you to say things that you’re not sure about. I know it’s not who you are; feeling things like most people do. And when I tell you I’m okay with that…okay with who you are…I meant it. So if you’re not certain or you’re not really feeling the things and you’re just saying it to appease me.…”

Sliding his hand to the back of her head, he pulls her towards him, silencing her with a kiss. Nothing more than the simple and innocent press of closed mouth upon closed mouth, yet still enough to take his breath away; an ache in his chest and stomach and a pounding in his heart that until her, he’d never experienced. . Not that he’d never wanted a woman before; he’d been sexually attracted to many since puberty saw him gain both height and mass. But he’d never felt it that quickly or so profoundly. Or had someone live so vibrantly within every waking thought.

Pulling away, he presses a kiss to her forehead before leaning back to look at her. He understands the sadness that lingers in those green eyes, but not exactly why; Heather was nothing more than a criminal who’d paid the ultimate sacrifice in the pursuit of saving millions of others. She died for a good cause; her demise meaning survival -a content and meaningful existence- for so many.

“I’m saying them because I mean them. Because I HAVE been feeling them. I’ve just been holding back; working things out in my head before I said anything. I guess I was worried; how you’d react to hearing it. Wasn’t sure if I was going to hear the same thing back. And how I’d feel if I didn’t. Not something I handle well. Rejection.”

“I don’t think any of us handle that well. But it’s not something you needed to worry about. I mean, I think I’ve made it pretty obvious. How I feel about you. I haven’t exactly been shy about it.”

“You haven’t,” he agrees, grinning as takes the tip of her nose between his thumb and forefinger and lightly squeezes.

She likes this side of him; playful and boyish. An emotional immaturity that often leads to adorable results; harmless miscommunication and things taken too literal and jokes that would normally fall flat being found hilarious. She’s privy to those different sides of him; ones that exist away from that main control console inside the spider head. The Steve that he becomes when it’s just the two of them; the one that -clad only in a pair of sweats- sits beside her in front of the tv every Saturday morning; their hair mussed from sleep as they eat bowls of sugary cereal and watch cheesy eighties movies or sitcoms. The man who refuses to listen to anything but music from the same era and will pause whatever he’s doing if a power ballad comes on; turning up the stereo and beckoning for her to come and dance with him. It's always one of her favorite moments; barefoot in the middle of the living room, bodies swaying in unison with one of her hands clutched in his. Feeling the warmth of his larger and heavier frame and the weight of his palm against the small of her back; a slight pressure keeping her pressed tightly against him. And somewhere towards the end of the song things always change; her face burying itself in her chest as both of her arms circle his waist. Her eyes closing as his palm moves to gently cup the back of her head; fingers and thumb pushing through her hair to gently massage her scalp. It’s a security that she’s needed for so long; the feel of hard muscle and the smell of a clean, crisp scent. Familiar yet alluring; filling her with warmth and a sense of safety; the world outside those four walls ceasing to exist and nothing…or no one…able to hurt her.

A soft smile curves his lips as he lays his hand on the top of her head; thumb repeatedly brushing against her brow. “I’m sorry. For what I said. After Heather…”

“You don’t have to apologize. We were all on edge. We were all freaking out. Saying shit we didn’t mean.”

“That’s just the thing, Maize. I didn’t mean it. And it’s important to me that you know that. That I never meant the things that came out of my mouth and that I’m sorry I ever said them. I know it hurt you. I could tell. You don’t hide things very well. Your eyes. They’re very…”

“Expressive? Ben used to say that all the time. That I never had to tell him how I was feeling. My eyes did all the talking for me.”

Maizie notices the way his face immediately changes at the mere mention of her deceased husband; the beginnings of the smile vanishing and his face hardening and his eyes darkening. It isn’t done to hurt him; no slight towards him or their relationship and definitely no comparing between the two. Each unique in personality and in the wonderful ways in which they show their love and affection towards her. Two men remarkably different in every way possible, yet both in possession of not only her heart, but her body and soul as well.

“I’m sorry.” She’s quick to apologize, and throws off the covers and bolts into a sit. Her head swims; a lack of food and water and the tears of rage and guilt and even grief that she’s shed over Heather. It’s been a hell of a day; as if an entire century has been crammed into just twenty-four hours. And when her upper body sways uneasily, his hands find her hips; fingers pressing into the supple flesh as he steadies her. She wants to believe it’s real; the love behind the gesture and the concern that furrows his burrow. She NEEDS it to be. Desperately.

“For what?”

“I know you don’t like it. When I bring Ben up in conversation. And I’m not doing it to hurt you, Steve. I’m not comparing you to him. Or expecting you to be like him. I don’t WANT you to be. And knowing that you think I do…”

“I don’t think that. At all. And it’s not that it bothers me. You mentioning him..”

Tilting her head to the side, she stares pointedly down at him.

“Okay, maybe it does. But not for the reasons you think. I don’t feel like you’re comparing us. Or expecting me to follow in his footsteps. I don’t feel like I need to compete with him or…”

“Because you don’t. You’re not him. I don’t expect you to be him. I don’t want you to be him. I want you to be Steve. That’s all.”

“But is that enough? For you? Who I am? The WAY I am?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. I wouldn’t have gotten this close to you. I would have shut it down before it even started. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like you’re not good enough. Or that you have to fill his shoes. That was a different time in my life. I was a different person. And I loved Ben. In a way I could only love him. In the same way I love you in a way that’s just for you.”

“For the record, I don’t get upset because I feel like you’re pitting us against each other. That’s not what it’s about. I guess I just don’t like thinking about you with someone else. It’s a sore spot for me. And that’s not YOUR fault. That’s all me. It’s something I need to work on. I realize that. But this is all new to me, Maizie. THIS kind of relationship. As serious as it is and as intense as things are between us. Maybe it’s jealousy. Maybe I’m a little possessive. But that’s all on me. And I’ll work on it. You just need to give me some time, okay?”

“I have all the time in the world to give. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. If you did. Leave. Considering everything that happened today. Especially the things I said to you; w when it was clear that Heather wasn’t going to make it. It was horrible. The entire thing. And I reacted. Badly.”

“It was horrible, wasn’t it. Way worse than anything I’d imagined, that’s for sure. And when I told her that I’d be right outside and I’d come and help her if…”

“You didn’t know what was going to happen. How wrong things would go. You were trying to help her. You were trying to ease her fears and her worries and you did. You were able to calm her down and get through to her. She never would have acknowledged if…”

“If I didn’t convince her to.”

“That’s not what I was going to say. Or how at least that’s not how I was going to say it. Or mean it. You stepped for the team. You did what you needed to do. To get the job done. And that’s not being ignored or forgotten, believe me. If you hadn't been able to get through to her, we never would have been able to perform the test and we never would have…”

“And she’d still be alive. She wouldn’t have said ‘yes’. If I hadn’t talked her into it…”

“Maizie…listen to me.” He tightens his hold on her hips. “None of this was your fault. You did your job. You took care of her. And that’s what I hired you to do. Take care of them. You did the best you could. You knew the importance of the work and you knew it needed to be done and you got through to her. What happened after that? That’s not on you. At all. None of that was your fault.”

“I just can’t stop thinking that if I hadn’t pushed her…”

“You did great today. We all did. Especially Heather. And everything was going fine until she….you know…” With a finger, he makes a slicing motion across his throat. “It wasn’t her best moment. Or mine. The things I said to you? Blaming you like I did? None of that was warranted. And I sure as hell didn’t mean a word of it. You know how I get. In a crisis. I react without thinking. And when I’m not thinking, things just come out. Terrible things, sometimes. And I’m sorry. That those things were directed at you.”

“It hurt,” she admits. “A lot. When you said that it never would have happened had I stayed in the spider head. You were the one who told me to leave.”

“I know. Because I knew how you’d be affected by it. It’s not a fun thing to witness; someone under the effects of Darkenfloxx. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t want you seeing that. There’s some things you don’t need to be a part of. That I’d rather you not be tainted by. And that’s one of them. You did the right thing. Leaving. It isn’t a good watch. Even under the best of circumstances with the best of endings.”

“There was nothing I could have done. There was no way I could have saved her. She’d done too much damage. And even ifI’d been able to stabilize her, I don’t have access to advanced life saving tools or an OR. And I’m just a nurse. Steve. I’m not a surgeon. And believe me, nothing short of a specialist could have helped her.”

“I know. She was too far gone. By the time even Mark got in there. And he was the first on the scene. There was already no pulse. When he checked.”

“She went right for the jugular. All that blood? Arterial spray? She didn’t stand a chance.”

“It was…unfortunate. The way things went. Heather damaging the pack and flooding her system. The way she trashed the room. Slitting her throat. It was all way beyond anything we could have expected to go wrong. And I AM sorry. That I blamed you. That I HURT you. That is the last thing I wanted to do, Maizie. I don’t want to hurt you. Ever. Like I said, I just want to make you happy. I just want to love you. Can you let me do that? My way?”

She nods.

“And maybe it isn’t enough. But it’s all I have to give. I wish I could give more. I do. But this is me and this is who I am and…”

Cradling his face in her palms she kisses him; long and soft and sweet and enough to take his breath away. “It’s enough,” she assures him. “YOU’RE enough.”

“Tell me what you want. From me. What you need. Right this very second. Because it’s been a hell of a day and I’ve got a lot to make up for and…”

“You. I want YOU. I need YOU.”

“And I’m right here. I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to get up here but…”

“I don’t think you’re grasping what I’m saying, Steven.” Grabbing him by the front of his shirt she aggressively pulls him into her. “I NEED you.”

“Oh…OH.” A grin plays on his lips. “You mean in THAT way?”

“Mmhmm.” Plucking his glass from his face, she gently folds the arms and then places them on the coffee table. “I need to feel….something. Anything other than this. And I want you to be the one that makes me feel it.”

“I think I’m the right man for that job. Actually, I KNOW I am the right man for that job.”

“Well you know how I feel about the spoken word.” Her lips brush briefly across his as her fingers tend to the buttons on his shirt. “They mean nothing if not backed up by actions.”

“You're starting to sound a little like a…”

“A scientist? An intellectual? I guess it’s starting to rub off on me. And speaking of rubbing things….” Standing, she smooths both palms down chest and then hooks each index finger over the waistband of his pants; smirking when she yanks him into her. “...I have something very specific in mind.”

“You’re evil,” he declares, offering no resistance when she pushes his shirt off his shoulders; letting it slip down and off his arms and into a puddle of black fabric on the floor. And his hands push their way into her thick, red curls when she begins peppering a series of kisses across his collarbone; the warmth and the softness of her mouth causing his eyes to close and a long content sigh to escape.

It’s a rush beyond anything even Luvactin could ever provide; the knowledge that someone wants you. Not the person that you are when the drugs are flowing through your system, but the true and honest version; broken and vulnerable and missing vital pieces of your humanity. Nothing can compare to seeing the want and the needs in their eyes; taste the need and the hunger in the kiss and feel the desperation in their impatient touch. There'd been moments he’d been unsure of the feelings surging through him; satisfaction and bliss and a surrender that he’d never encountered at the hands of another person. Both exhilarating and frightening; a brilliant, scientific mind unable to explain something so raw and animalistic. And he’d had to learn not to question it; not ruin the moment by delving too much into the what and the why and the how. To just relax and enjoy what was happening; lose himself in not only what he was feeling, but in who he was feeling it with. Once that happened, it only became even more intense; completely giving in to lust and want and a hunger and a longing unlike he’d ever experienced before.

“Evil in all of the best ways,” she says, as she reaches around to trace his back muscles; fingernails pressing into the flesh and scraping across his skin. “The ways you like the most.”

He attempts a reply but falls silent; hands tightening their grip on her hair when she grazes his Adam’s apple with her teeth. Gently suckling before dragging the tip of her tongue up his throat and along the underside of his chin. Giving a slight wince when she captures his bottom lip between her teeth and her nails rake down his back.

She’s on her tiptoes as she looks up at him, eyes sparkling devilishly. “They are the ways you like aren’t they? You like when they’re a little…unhinged. You like it when I’M that way. Don’t you, Steven.”

It’s much more than he can takel drawl of his name, the intensity in her eyes, the scrape of her nails along his ribs. The kiss he initiates is aggressive and domineering ; his tongue impatiently pushing its way into her mouth. And he uses his height, weight and strength to his advantage; easily maneuvering her lighter frame away from the couch and across the room. Greedy hands yanking and tearing at their respective clothing, leaving a trail garments that spread from the living area to the foot of the bed.

She gives a startled gasp when the back of her legs collide with the mattress; laughing when she topples backwards into a sea of rumbled blankets and sheets. And there’s no chance to recover before he’s dropping to his knees; chest heaving and sweat already beading across his brow and settling at his temples and the nape of his neck. The tip of his tongue swipes across his bottom lip as he reaches for her; aggressively yanking her towards him and then hastily pushing her legs apart. The conflicting sensations are intense; the scrape of beard and the brush of warm moist lips as they begin blazing a path along the insides of her thighs. Her entire body shudders when he places a line of kisses along her pubic bone; her head falling backwards and a long, drawn out sigh escaping her mouth when his tongue pushes its way through her folds and makes a swift, solitary swipe over her clit. And when he doesn’t continue, she gives a mewl of frustration and disappointment and pushes herself up onto her elbows; glancing down and fixing him with a quizzical glance. Remaining completely still between her legs; naked with his hair wild and his skin flesh and his chest heaving with a mixture of carnal want, need, and desire. But there’s something else behind it; the weight of his stare and the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. The darkness inside of him eager to come and play; a sinister and threatening force that betrays the normally composed and congenial facade that so expertly sucks you in. And the way his fingers bite painfully into flesh of her hips sends a clear message; he knows what and who he wants and is about to claim -and mark it- as his.

“You’re mine.” His voice is low and gravely; reverberating deep within his chest. “ONLY mine.”

She shivers. A mixture of both lust and fear. And she reaches down to clear wayward strands of her off his forehead and out of his eyes.

“Yes, Steve.” She ‘s obedient. Willing. Aching. “Only yours.”

*****

They lay facing one another; sharing the same pillow, her head nestled in the crook of his elbow. His eyes closed and his breathing slow and deep and even; a leg draped over hers and his knuckles repeatedly brushing up and down her spine. Finding himself spent and sated; content and relaxed and lulled closer to sleep by the warmth of radiating off her slender form and the tenderness of her touch. Her fingers slowly and methodically exploring his body; every bulge of muscle, the canvas of smooth skin, each freckles and blemish. Eyes flickering open when she reaches the device attached to his lower back; a gentle and inquisitive fingertip tracing the outer edges of the mobi-pack.

“What are you doing?”

She halts her exploration. “Admiring. Am I not allowed?”

“You’re pretty much allowed to do whatever you want.”

“I’m going to remember you said that. And hold you to it..” She once more traces the outer borders of the Mobi-Pack, fingertip gliding slowly and smoothly over his skin. Pausing when his body stiffens; a noticeable shiver passing through it. “That bothers you?”

“No. Just a ticklish spot.”

“I thought maybe you didn’t like it. That it made you nervous. Me touching it.”

“Why would it make me nervous? You’re only one of two people I trust with it. You’re not planning on fucking with it and causing issues, are you?”

“Wasn’t in my immediate plans.” she teases, and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

His palm settles on her tailbone; thumb repeatedly brushing over the swell of one buttock. “I know you don’t like it. The idea of me having it. I know it bothers YOU.”

“I want to understand why you did it. I do. But I just can’t get on board with it. I don’t believe you have to subject yourself to the drugs in order to speak on their behalf. Your notes and the videos of sessions and all the data should speak for itself. I wish I could side with you on this, Steve. But I just can’t.”

“It’s just something we’re going to have to agree to disagree on. If we ever have to speak to a bereaved family member or the media, or God forbid a jury, I feel there’s more merit to my words IF I’ve experienced the drugs myself. IF something goes wrong they’re not going to come for you or Mark. It’s going to be me.”

“I hope it never comes to that. Something going THAT wrong. Because Heather…”

“Was a terrible, unfortunate event. We agreed on this, Maizie. We sat down and talked about it; what you’d put on the paperwork and what we’d say if ever questioned about it. And Heather’s medical file will back it up; prove that she’d been seeing you for depression and anxiety and you put her on meds. She got a knife from the kitchen and she killed herself. Simple as that.”

“There still might be questions. On how she was able to access knives in the first place. Especially when she’d said she’d thought about finding ways to hurt herself. If we get asked about that…”

“We stick to our story. We can’t lock down the entire kitchen because of one unstable person. We can’t punish them all because one can’t get their shit together. As far as anyone else is concerned, she killed herself. She was depressed and struggling and didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. So she chose a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”

Maize sighs.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” His hand slides up her back and across her shoulder; knuckles brushing against her bicep as he presses a kiss to her forehead. “The chance of anyone asking you anything are slim to none. Anyone worth their salt will see that anything and everything you know about the incident, is right in the paper work. And Heather’s medical history backs it up. If someone IS going to be questioned, it’s going to be me. And probably Mark.”

“What about Jeff? He was there. He saw the whole thing. If one day he decides to tell the truth…”

“Jeff has had enormous amounts of drugs pumped into his body over the course of the past year and a half. He was on Verbaluce when it happened. Not to mention his history; a drunk driver that killed his girlfriend and his best friend. Who do you think they’re going to believe, Maizie? Whose word do you think holds more weight? Mine or his?”

“Yours. Obviously. I mean, there’s never been so much as the smallest of problems since you opened. It’s not like this is a recurring thing. It’s not like there’s a history of even injuries or overdoses, let alone suspicious deaths.”

“It was a one off. A freak accident. And honestly, it’s probably better this way. No one knowing what really happened. Imagine what it would mean not just for my work but for the justice system as a whole? If the public found out the full scale of what’s going on? Not just here but in jails all over the States? All over the WORLD? Telling what really happened will open up a can of worms, Maize. For a lot of different people. Don’t you think it’s better to just avoid all that? The truth means more attention. Something we really can’t afford. Not this close to the end.”

“I just wish there was another way. Instead of lying. Because if it DOES get out…”

“You need to stop worrying, okay? Stop thinking about it. It happened. It was cleaned up. It’s behind us. There’s no reason to dwell on it. This isn’t doing any good, you know. It isn’t doing US any good. Talking about it so much. I know it’s thrown you for a loop and I know you’re struggling, but there’s nothing I can do for you. I can’t turn back the clock. I can’t go back in time and change everything. Believe me, I would if I could. I’d fix it. For you.”

She wants to ask if that means actually listening to her concerns about Heather. If he COULD go back and do everything all over again, would taking her worries to heart and postponing the testing be the first thing on his agenda? It all leads back to one fundamental error; the failure to take her seriously and the indifference towards the suffering and discomfort of others. But she knows better; Steve Abnesti is not a man that likes to be challenged and will immediately become defensive. She’ll be seen as the enemy; someone with a lower intellect that has the audacity to question his ideas and his genius. From there it will get ugly; raised voices and vicious words and the slamming of doors and hurt feelings. It’s not a road she wants to go down; preferring to keep the peace than to walk headlong into the hornet’s nest. Instead, she rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose and closes her eyes; enjoying the warmth of the body and his familiar smell and the way his fingertips continuously graze up and down her bicep. Her own returning to their lazy exploration of his naked body; revelling in smooth skin and hard muscle.

Her fingers once more return to the pack.. “Would you ever consider getting rid of it?”

“I know you want me to. Get it removed.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if YOU’D consider it.”

“When everything is finished. When we get our last gold star and things are given the green light and start rolling out to the public. I’ll have to find other delivery methods. Successful ones. It isn’t logical; expecting everyone to both own a pack AND have it surgically installed. This was just a quick and easy way of getting the drugs in It was never meant to be permanent.”

“That’s a very Steve way of saying ‘yes’. And it’s possible, right? To get it removed? Without causing issues? I mean, we’re talking about something that’s been attached to your spinal column. And if removing it might cause some problems…”

“It’ll be just as easy getting it removed as it was getting it put in. A day procedure. A few days of recovery. Nothing will go wrong. And I WILL get removed. When things are off the ground.”

“Promise?”

Placing a kiss on her brow, he wraps both arms around her and rolls onto his back; effortlessly bringing her naked body to rest atop his. “Promise.”

They lapse into a comfortable and companionable silence; his fingertips continuously grazing from one shoulder to the other as she rests with her cheek upon his chest. Once more opening his eyes when he feels her stir; glancing down just as she looks up at him and begins to laugh.

“What?”

“It smells like sex in here.”

Grinning, he runs his fingers up the middle of her back and then settles his palm at the nape of her back. “You say that like it’s bad thing.”

“There was nothing bad about it, that’s for sure. It was….”

“Intense?”

She nods. “I mean, it’s always amazing. It’s always enjoyable. Even when we don’t really have much time to devote to it. But THAT? That was…I don’t know…extra.”

“Extra, huh?” He chuckles. “I think YOU’RE extra.”

“Look at you picking up on the popular lingo of today!’ She affectionately ruffles his hair. “Every day you venture a little more out of the eighties and into current times.”

“You know…” Taking hold of one of her curls, he gently pulls until the strands are straight; watching in a mixture of amazement and amusement when he lets go and the hair bounces back into place. “... you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Do you know how many times I say that about you? In the course of twenty four hours?” She teases, then lays her forearm across his chest and places her chin on top of it. “So, back to the sex thing…”

“Back to it as in have it again or…?”

“I’m not adverse to doing that again. But I was thinking more along the lines about TALKING about it. About what went down. Just now.”

“What’s there to talk about? We got naked, we had sex, I’ve got the scratch marks on my back as souvenirs.”

“And a really nice bite mark right here,” she taps a finger against the space between his neck and left shoulder. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Who are you kidding? You’re not sorry at all. That was a little revenge on your part. A little way of getting back at me. For not listening to you this morning.”

“That wasn’t even on my mind. And it wasn’t revenge. It was passion. Pure and utter animalistic lust. I like it; when you get like that. When you just totally take over. Get all bossy and aggressive and rough and shit like that. It doesn’t happen often. But when it does…”

“You’re right. I don’t act that very often. Mostly because I worry;. That I might hurt you. That I might get a little too caught up in things and get a little too rough and…”

“It was perfect,” Maizie assures him. “YOU were perfect.”

It’s the first time she’s had a lover that’s needed validation; someone that isn’t a hundred percent confident in their skill set and their ability to please her. And there’s no absolutely no bearing for it; he’s a selfless lover with infinite patience and a never ending desire to please. Such a contradiction. So confident and cocky when sitting at the controls in the spiderhead or when wandering the floors of the penitentiary itself. A genius who’d earned his doctorate two years earlier than normal and had turned both the medical and scientific worlds upside down; starting a business from the ground up and quickly and nearly effortlessly becoming an appointed ‘pharmaceutical god’. But away from his work, that ego disappears and he becomes a totally different Steve; often awkward and self conscious and unsure of his place in someone’s world. A fragility and vulnerability that initially took her by surprise. After all, it’s not every day the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on struggles in ANY category. But instead of letting those insecurities hold him back or shut him down, he works to get past them; determined to be the best at whatever he puts his mind to. And he feeds off the praise. Thrives when she’s showering him with compliments and assuring him of his spot in her life. And in her bed.

“You sure? Because…”

She silences him with a chaste kiss. “I’m sure. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. You should know that by now. I say what I feel. And want. Didn’t you learn that the hard way?”

“You certainly have a way of putting people in their place.”

“Well some people need it. Face it Steve; a weaker woman wouldn’t have done anything for you. You wouldn’t have been happy with someone meek and mild. That doesn’t turn your crank, does it. You like feistiness. A ‘take no shit attitude’. A challenge.”

“I don’t know about that. You can be awfully damn frustrating.”

“You’re just used to always getting your own way. You’re used to just saying and doing whatever you want and not being called out for it. I bet you’re regretting the day I spilled that coffee on you right about now. Had that not happened…”

“Had not that happened, a lot of things wouldn’t have happened. So no, I’m not regretting it. Although I never did send you my dry cleaning bill.”

“Take it out of my next paycheck,” she chides, and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin. “So you’re okay with it? Changing things up every now and then?”

“When it comes to sex you mean?”

She nods.

“I mean, if you’re really that into me being the one in charge….”

“Oh, I am more than just really into it. Wasn’t it obvious? It’s a pleasant surprise. When you get like that. And like I said, it doesn’t happen often and…”

“I can make it happen more often. Seeing as you like it THAT much.”

“I think you’re totally underestimating your powers as a switch. Your abilities to be both submissive and dominant. No one would expect from you, you know. That you like to give up control. In the bedroom. You’re always in charge and always have a handle on things that it’s hard to see you any other way. You expect the same Steve in the bedroom as he is out of it.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Hardly. I love it, personally. I wouldn’t be asking you for more of it if I didn’t. So you’re okay with it? Venturing out of your safe space? I know it’s a little out of your comfort zone and…”

“If that’s what you want and that’s what you like, I’m good with it.”

“I want you to like it too. It can’t be all about what I like. If you’re enjoying it…”

“Oh, trust me, I’m enjoying it. So if that’s what you want every now and then….”

“You’re such a good boy, Steven. Always so willing and eager to please. And I won’t lie; I kinda like you being in charge every so often. I kind of enjoy it; being submissive and at your mercy. It’s a total turn out, right? Being able to boss someone around like that? Being able to call all the shots? Knowing you’re the one that’s driving them absolutely insane. Doesn’t it make it better? Doesn’t it make it FEEL better?”

“I’ve never really thought about it. I know it feels good ‘as is’. Damn good, actually.”

“We make a good team. At least between the sheets. Sometimes I’m not so sure outside of them. Sometimes I think you really do regret meeting me that day. When I’m giving you a hard time and questioning you on things. Do you ever think about it? About how you should have just walked away that way? In the coffee shop”

“It’s never, EVER, crossed my mind. Things happen for a reason, Maize. People's paths cross because they’re meant to. If something is supposed to happen, it will.”

Raising her head from his chest, she archesa a quizzical brow. “I never thought I'd hear you say something like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s not like a scientist; to believe in that kind of thing. Karma. Destiny. Fate. All that hoodoo-voodoo, mumbo-jumbo. Where’s the evidence? Where’s the proof? Aren’t scientists all about finding that out? Solving the age old question of what exists and what doesn’t? What can…beyond the shadow of a doubt…be proven? Isn’t it the truth and facts and statistics? That drives people like you?”

“I like to think that not everything has a scientific explanation. That not everything CAN be proven. And that it really does need to be. Why do we need concrete evidence to believe in something? Think of all the things that had to happen… in both our lives… just for us to meet. All the decisions we made, places we’ve been, jobs we’ve had, schools we’ve attended. People we’ve been involved with. Ben, in your case. All of that…all of that…stuff? It all had to take place. Just so it would lead me here and then eventually to you.”

“I honestly never thought I’d hear Steve Abnesti talk like this. This is NOT you. Or not what’s expected of you, that’s for sure.”

“It’s nice to think that maybe things just happen. That there’s some kind of magic that still exists. I don’t know….” He smiles wistfully. “....maybe I’m a little naive. Maybe it’s a little….foolish. Childish, even. But it gives me some kind of hope. Some happiness. To think that there’s some kind of force we can’t see or feel. Or even explain. Sometimes, we just have to let things happen. Just go with them. Just trust them.”

“What time is it? What day?” Grabbing a hold of his left hand, she turns it over and inspects his watch. “We need to mark it all done. For prosperity. You talking about fate and destiny and…”

Smirking, he playfully pushes her off of him and flips her onto her back. “Don’t be such a smart ass,.”

“It may be a smart ass, but it’s also a hot ass.”

Kneeling between her splayed thighs, he places a hand on either side of her head, supporting his body weight on outstretched arms as he hovers over her. “I’m not going to deny that.”

“I was thinking….” Her voice trails off as her fingertips glide across his shoulders and down the backs of his arms; slowly and methodically tracing every inch of his triceps. She’d never been with a man like him; used to bodies that were slender and smooth or chubby and soft. Steve is bulky and athletic; a man that takes insurmountable pride in his physique and in the hard work that it’s taken to build it, and maintain it. In turn, it’s an incredible experience; being pinned under all that weight and mass, feeling the way the muscles and tendons bulge and twist with every movement, And it’s hell of a beautiful site when it reaches its completion; locking up in places she never knew a person could and then shuddering from head to toe.

“About…”

“About what you said earlier. Your offer. About us going away for a few days. Even if it is just to the mainland.”

“If that’s what you want to do….”

“Well I want us BOTH to want it, but…”

“Maizie, just because I don’t include both of us when I say something, doesn’t mean I’m NOT talking about both of us. Of course I want that. Time away from this place. With YOU. I think it would do us BOTH a world of good. Get away from here. Even just for a little bit.”

“Maybe we can find a little bed and breakfast. Or some quaint hotel on the coast.”

“We can do whatever you….WE….want. We’ll take tomorrow to plan things. Look some places up. Sound good?”

Nodding, she reaches up and places a hand on the back of his head as he leans down to kiss her; initially soft and slow and supple and then much deeper and intense. Enjoying the press of his body against hers; the combined heat as smooth naked forms move against one another. Feeling that hunger and that need quickly building up inside of her; a want and a desire that’s far more intense and all consuming than anything she’s ever experienced before. And it’s not lost on her that in the moments following Heather’s death; he’s transformed into the Steve that she desperately needs and wants him to be; attentive and adoring and loving. Focused on her feelings and the things plaguing her; compassionate and understanding and willing to work alongside her to make things better.

“We should get married.”

Her eyes snap open; finding him staring intently down at her, once more holding his weight on his outstretched arms. And she doesn’t mean to laugh; a reaction purely spurred by surprise. “What?”

“Married. Us. Husband and wife.”

“Where did THAT come from?”

“We’ve talked about it. A couple times. In passing. I guess I just assumed that we both seemed pretty into the idea. We agreed on the same things; getting a house on the mainland, maybe having some kids, settling down. Have some kind of normalcy. Away from here.”

“And you think now would be the time to do it? Why…?”

“I mean, we’re both not getting any younger. Why wait? I’m almost forty, you’re over it. Not by much, but…”

“Are you being serious right now? You want to get married?”

“We’re already practically living together, yeah? We’re either always up here or I’m down in your quarters. We sleep together every night, wake up next to each other every morning. We share everything. There’s nothing we don’t know about one another. It seems like the next logical step, no? Making it official? LEGAL, official.”

“I want to get married to YOU. No one else. Just you. I like to think you’d make a good little wife.”

A grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. “You do, do you?”

“I mean, I’ve thought about it. Us, Marriage. It’s not that I haven’t. I just…”

“Then we should just go ahead and do it. Throw caution to the wind. It’s not like we haven’t done the whole cohabitating thing. And I think we’re pretty good at it We’re a great team, Maizie. You can’t deny that. We work well together. Whether it’s down in the spider head or up here or away from this place. I mean, we have our moments; we fight and argue and get on one another’s nerves. But we have a good thing here. A VERY good thing.”

“We do,” she agrees. “When it’s good, it’s incredibly good.”

“And it’ll stay that way. Maybe even get better. Let’s just do it. When we get to the mainland, let’s get a license and find a justice of the peace and just go for it. Surprise everyone. Make it REAL. In the truest sense of the word. What do you say? Will you? Marry me?”

“It just seems so out of the blue. So sudden. We….”

“Tell you what, we’ll spend the next couple of days talking about it. Going over everything. Pros and cons. All that stuff. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees, and immediately notices the smile that captures his lips; bringing a brightness to his face and a sparkle to his eyes. It’s charming and boyish; that almost childish and innocent side of him that lurks just under the surface. The one that speaks of that abandoned little boy that would grow up to be a brilliant and enigmatic -yet haunted and troubled- man. The one who clings desperately to those moments years ago when he’d been his happiest Right before his life had changed forever. He’s pleased with himself; proud of the idea he’d come up with and content that she’d agreed to give it some thought. It’s that side of Steve that almost makes you forget just who and what he really is: a sociopath devoid of almost all empathy and remorse.

Yet she loves him. There’s no rhyme or reason. No explanation. Just an intense and overwhelming mixture of adoration and desire that encompasses the entirety of her being. And part of her feels ashamed; aware of the darkness that resides inside of him, yet unable to walk away. She’s no longer that strong and independent woman she’d become after her husband’s death; no longer devoted entirely to her career and priding herself for being so resilient and self-sufficient. When Ben died, she hadn’t been given a choice; a young widow who had to fend for herself during the various stages of tremendous grief. Truly Content with being alone for the rest of her life if that was her destiny; dating for companionship and conversation and filling her bed with a string of trusted ‘regulars’ that didn’t want anything more than something physical.

And then Steve wandered into her life and everything changed. SHE changed.

“What’s wrong?” Concern darkens his eyes. Furrows his brow. “What are you thinking about? You look…”

“I was thinking that it’s my turn.” The lie comes easily; not wishing to discuss the enormous issues that exist between them and likely always will. Maybe he can learn to be what she needs; a partner and confidant and best friend. And maybe he can even love her the way she desires; wholly and completely and putting nothing -or no one- ahead of her.

“Your turn for…”

Pressing a knee into his chest, she shoves him off her; laughing when he lands on his back with a dramatic groan. Offering no resistance when she pushes his legs open and kneels between his thighs. “I’m a taker AND a giver.”

He grins, then reaches for his glasses on the beside table and slips them onto his face.

“What do you need those for?”

“I may want to be able to see the exact moment my soul leaves my body.”

“You have a lot of faith in my skills, Doctor.”

“That’s because I know just how skilled you actually are. I know what kind of tricks you have in that tool box of yours.”

“Come to think of it, I never hear any complaints coming out of your mouth. I hear OTHER things, but…”

“You’ll never hear me complain. EVER. Now are you going to….”

“Patience…patience….” She playfully scolds, then rakes her fingernails down his chest; spurred on by his wince and sharp intake of breath. “Just lie there and take it, Steven. Like you always do. I know you like it. When I’m in charge. It’s a relief, isn’t it? When you don’t have to be the one in total control all the time.”

“It’s…nice.”

“It’s more than nice. You don’t have to say it. I know the effect it has on you. I know how much you enjoy it. When someone tells you what to do for a change. Maybe not downstairs in the spider head, but up here. When it’s just the two of us. When there’s no one else around and you don’t have to put on a big show for them. Isn’t it nice? To just be yourself? To just sit back and be totally submissive. It’s your thing, isn’t it.”

“Sometimes. And I don’t know about TOTALLY submissive, but ....” A long, quivering sigh escapes his lips; caught up in the mixed sensations brought on by sharp, almost punishing nails and soft, moist lips. Her fingers leaving angry , red marks across his ribs and over his chest and down onto his stomach; digging into his sides as she blazes a trail of slow and agonizing kisses from the center or his stomach to his navel. The anticipation of what’s to come already has him hard; begging for attention and the tip covered in glistening precum. His hips lifting off the bed by the time she reaches the insides of his thighs; her mouth licking and sucking and nibbling at one and then the other. And she has her fingers curled around his shaft and he can feel her warm breath wafting against his cock when he hears it; the audible click of a door opening and the sound of footfalls on the stairs. Followed by Jeff calling out to him.

“Jesus fuck!” Maizie cries, and immediately abandons her station between Steve’s thighs. “You didn’t lock the door?!”

He gives a sheepish smile. “I forgot. Just like I forgot I told Jeff to come by later. He was having a hard time about Heather and I told him I could give him something to help feel better and…”

Reaching for one of the pillows, she smacks him in the chest and face with it. “You shit head! We were kinda in the middle of something here. And I kinda have no clothes on. In case you haven’t noticed!”

“Oh I’ve noticed!”

“Speaking of, where ARE my clothes?”

“I don’t know. Here, there, everywhere. Mostly by the couch.”

“Oh my god, Steve…” She hurriedly slides out of bed and begins the hunt for long discarded items of clothing. “....I can’t believe this is happening. You NEVER forget to lock the door when I’m here.”

“I’m sorry.” He can’t help but chuckle; amused by her frazzled state. “It wasn’t intentional. And it’s just Jeff. He…”

“Just Jeff? What is that supposed to mean? He’s somehow privy to seeing me naked? You shouldn’t want anyone seeing me with no clothes on! I don’t want people seeing you bare ass naked. Here….” She snags a pair of joggers from the chair by the window and tosses them in his direction.. “...at least try and conceal that thing. I know it’s going to be hard, but…”

“Steve?” Jeff’s voice; closer as he continues his trek up the stairs. “You around?”

“Yeah….” Slipping out of bed, he steps into the sweats. “....just kinda hang out where you are and give us a few. Maizie’s naked.”

Her cheeks flush. “Steve!”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Jeff stumbles over his words, clearly embarrassed at the realization of just what he’d stumbled upon. “I can come back If you want to…..you know…finish things.”

“We’re good,” Steve assures him. “Just give us a second.”

“I can NOT believe this just happened,” Maizie huffs, and hurries towards the washroom; her clothing cradling in her arms. “And you’re not even bothered! It doesn’t even faze you! You don’t care that he knows what we were doing? You’re not the least bit embarrassed?”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about? Who cares if he knows.”

“I care! I’m going to kick you right in the ass later. Forgetting to lock the door. Ughhhh…” She slams the bathroom door shut behind her, then offers up a loud, “Men!”

Grabbing a t-shirt from the closet, he shrugs into it and then calls Jeff up the stairs; greeting the younger man with a smile and a clap on the shoulder. Hoping to distract him from his obvious embarrassment; peppering him with questions about everything from his mood to his beloved Seattle Marines to his recent switch from snack to janitorial duties.

“I am so…so…so sorry,” Jeff is quick to apologize when Maizie emerges from the washroom. “I had no idea you were in the middle of…you know…”

“It’s okay.’ she assures him. “We were finished. So…”

“We were actually getting started again,” Steve pipes up, then notices her glaring at him. “What?”

“Before I die of embarrassment, I’m going to head out,” Maizie says. “I’m going to head to the kitchen. See what Lizzie made for dinner. Hope for leftovers in the fridge.”

“You gonna come back?” Steve inquires, as he carefully gathers her hair and removes it from the back of her t-shirt.

“I don’t want to interrupt. Might be some things talked about that I’m not supposed to hear about. Guy stuff. I’ll give you a few hours. You know where to find me.”

“I’m okay with it,” Jeff speaks up. “If you want to come back right away. Not gonna bother me. In the slightest.”

“I want you to come back,” Steve informs her, and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Please.”

“In that case, I will. Be good you two. Try not to get into something too heavy, okay? If you’re going to use, use responsibility. God, I sound like my parents when I was fifteen and got caught smoking pot in the boys’ john at school.”

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” he promises, and then leans down to kiss her. A brief and chaste press of his lips against hers, yet still a huge moment for him; showing even the smallest amount of affection in front of a third party.

“I shall return,” she promises, and then tosses her remaining clothes into a nearby hamper and heads for the stairs. Halfway down when she hears their footfalls as they move further into the apartment; the conversion switching to Laffodil and how it’s ‘nearly impossible’ to have a single negative thought while on even the smallest of doses.

“So I take it things are going good,” Jeff remarks. “Between you and Maizie.”

She pauses; unaware that she holds her breath as she waits for the answer.

“Things are amazing.” She can hear the happiness in his voice. See the smile that curves his lips. “SHE’S amazing.”

It fills her with a sense of hope. That perhaps he CAN change. That all it will take is a lot of love and even more patience. He isn’t a lost cause; she can often see the flicker of compassion in his eyes and hear the sincerity in his voice.

Time. That’s all they need. Just a little time.

#Steve and Maizie #Steve Abnesti #Steve Abnesti fan fiction #Spiderhead #Spiderhead fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Steve Abnesti fan fic #Spiderhead fan fic #Steve Abnesti x OFC

[chickensarentcheap]

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Definitely when Esme was talking to Tyler while he was still unconscious after the surgeries in Best Part of Me. She was just so emotional and heartfelt and you knew deep down that he could hear her

2. I don't know about a sweet fic, but there's certainly moments of sweetness in each one. Probably the most in Never Gonna Be Alone. When they went to Tasmania and Tyler had those cupcakes flown in. And then when he gave her the ring she'd once seen and proposed properly :)

3) I don't write fic that is nothing but smut, as that isn't my thing as a writer. I like to read to read and write fics that are actual story telling fics and not just focused on one thing. But the most popular fic with smut in it is Never Gonna Be Alone. The edging in the bathtub chapter I think is the hottest thing I've written. So far at least :)

4) omg I absolutely love receiving fan art. It is incredibly humbling to know people enjoy your fics that much!

5) I have a Steve Abnesti fic and a Thor fic that I started and abandoned

6) Anything AU. Like Thor without his powers. He's Thor because of those powers. Or Tyler as a super soldier program participant. I prefer keeping people in character. Like, keeping a human a human. A god a god.

#Tyler and Esme series