#but look how cute Nik is when he tries to be bigger than her

[lannistcrth]

Not for the first time, Gwen. Really not for the first time.

#nikolaj coster waldau #Gwendoline Christie #jamie lannister #brienne of tarth #braime #jamie x brienne #gwennik #but look how cute Nik is when he tries to be bigger than her #what a pure man #friendship goals #game of thrones #got

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 82

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

The storm rolls in shortly before nine; torrential rain and howling winds that rattle the windows, bend tree branches, and strip them of leaves.  Both the thunder and lightning are intense and incessant; resounding booms that seem to shake the entire house and forks of silver that slice through the coal black sky.  The sudden change in weather does little to improve Tyler’s mood; the pressure in the air bringing a migraine that settles in both temples and  over his left eye. While the sadness and hints of guilt, regret, and even embarrassment have faded, they’ve been replaced with emotions much more profound and unsettling. Immense hatred. Blinding rage. A desperate and powerful want and need for revenge.

It’s been almost three months since it all began. Kicking off with Mahajan’s badgering of his son in regards to taking over the ‘family business’, escalating into threats against his family that grew more disturbing with each passing day, and culminating in an unwanted return to Dhaka. It’s complicated and twisted; each hour brings an added layer that only pushes the finish line further and further away.  His physical pain may be worsening; but it’s his mental stability that is the most concerning. Unable to turn off the emotionally driven side of him and solely look at things from a mercenary’s point of view. He knows he’s on the edge; barely hanging on his last shred of sanity. The games have taken their toll; hearing vile things about his wife and children serving as the final nails in the coffin. Even if he does survive with his body intact, he’s not sure if his brain will be as fortunate. It’s a no win situation. Whether it’s a busted up body or a broken mind, he’ll suffer either way. And so will his family.

He places a call to Kyle’s cell phone, grimacing at the pain that shoots through his right leg and across the small of his back as he takes a seat at the end of the bed.  Anil had one of his ‘people’ stop by; a physician originally from Mumbai who’d not only  taken the CEO position at one of Dhaka’s private hospitals, but holds the utmost contempt for both the ghost of Amir Asif and those still pledging loyalty to him.

“He’s been dead for seven years,” he’d said. “Yet he’s still sending me patients and putting bodies in my morgue. Old, young; his drugs and his people do not discriminate.”

That had been the extent of conversation. No small talk exchanged as he put Tyler through a series of physical tests to determine the state of his mobility issues. The doctor offering little more than heavy sighs and shakes of head as he discovered things were worse than he initially suspected. Torn ligaments and tendons, the disintegration of cartilage, scar tissue. A lengthy list of things that could be causing problems but would definitely have to be properly -and extensively- investigated by a specialist. For the time being, there’s nothing anyone can do, aside from prescribing yet another painkiller with strict orders that someone else be in charge of dispensing it. He can’t be trusted to do it himself; the first one to admit that he has absolutely no control over the demon of drug addiction. And he’d been more than happy to hand over the responsibility; as long as he’d get some relief.

So far he's pleasantly surprised; the two pills he’d taken an hour ago successfully -and quickly- taking the edge off without making him feel ‘doped up’. The pain is still present, but nowhere as intense or unbearable. Relegated to a dull, continuous throb akin to the agony of a bad toothache.

Kyle answers on the third ring, giving a quick ‘hey’ followed by “I’ll get one of the kids for you.”  It’s the first time they’ve spoken since right before he and Esme had left for Dhaka; Kyle still sore over the fact he’d been called out for his poor treatment of his sister.

“Hold up,” Tyler says, smirking at the sound of his brother in law’s heavy sigh. “How’s things there? And don’t bullshit me.”

“Things are okay.”

“Okay as in good or okay as in they could be better?"

“If you’re just asking about the kids, then things are okay as in good. Ovi and I are making sure we keep them busy; filling their days up. And they’re happy as they can be when they’re missing both their mom and dad as much as they are. It’s hard on them; both of you being gone. But they’re doing alright. They’re coping. We’re busting our asses to make sure they don’t catch wind of what’s really going on.”

“Thanks for that. Esme and I appreciate it. Keep an eye on Millie though. She figured everything out, and while she promised she wouldn’t say anything to her brothers, I wouldn’t put it past her if they pissed her off enough. Nothing she loves more than tormenting those two.”

Kyle gives a small chuckle. “I’ll keep an eye on her. There hasn’t been any actual fights so far, but she has threatened to beat their asses a few times. You know, she’s a mind fuck that kid. She’s so sweet and cute to look at…

“But she’s a total savage,” Tyler finishes for him.

“Exactly. She doesn’t take any shit. Esme was like that as a kid; no one dared messing with her because she’d beat the ever loving hell out of them. Small, but tough. How is she? She doing okay?”

“She’s hanging in there. Just ready for all this to be over. Sooner the better. Anything going on there? Anything weird or suspicious or…”

“Other than Anil going ape shit on all the nannies and replacing them all? Things have been pretty quiet. There’s been a couple little things here and there; people getting too close to the house, calling here and hanging up, dead cat thrown over the fence.”

“That’s all rookie stuff. Someone trying to unnerve ya. I wouldn’t put too much stock into it; guys who can really do damage start bigger and end even bigger. They don’t bother with bullshit like that. You’ll call, yeah? If things get any weirder?”

“I will,” Kyle promises. “Keep  my little sister safe, okay? I wish she wasn’t involved in this at all, but..”

“She’s safe with me. She always is. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do. But I wish she’d never gotten dragged into all of this in the first place. And I’m not talking now. I’m talking seven years ago. If you’d just thought of her instead of yourself…”

“Is that daddy?”   Millie’s voice interrupts Kyle before he can launch into his tirade. “Mommy said daddy was going to call us. Is that him? Can I talk to him? I want to talk to him.”

There’s a slight rustling noise as the phone is passed from person to person, and the first smile of the day manages to make its way to his face when his daughter greets him with a cheerful “Hi daddy! I miss you!”

He tries not to think about it; the threat made against her and the knowledge of what would be done to her. She’s only six. Still a baby. HIS baby. “Hey,” he says. “Hey  baby girl.”

“Mommy said you’d call and you did! She said you were feeling a bit sad ‘cause you miss us so much.”

“I am a bit sad,” Tyler admits. “I do miss you guys. You being good?”

“I’m trying. But TJ really tests my patience. He’s so annoying! Why does he have to be so annoying?”

“Because he knows it bothers you. Just try to ignore him”

“It’s hard!” Millie laments.  “It’s really, REALLY hard. It’s like he wants me to punch him in the face.”

“Well I’d rather you didn’t punch anyone in the face.”

“But I’m not a pacifist. I’d rather  ‘pass a fist’.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“I’m not a snitch. Snitches get stitches.”

“How about you rein in your temper a bit,” he suggests. “Just take it from the source. He’s doing it to get a reaction. Don’t give him one. That’ll irritate him and he’ll get bored and back off. How are you? You doing okay?”

“I’m okay, I guess. I miss home. Can we go back soon? Are you almost done your work? I really want to go home.”

“So do I. And it’ll be over soon.”

“And then you and mommy will come and get us and take us home?”

“As soon as it’s over.  Once it’s done, we’ll come and get you guys. I promise.”

“Maybe next time we go on a trip, we can go to Disney World. That would be fun.”

“Have you been talking to Tanner?”

“Maybe…” Millie sing songs.

“Tell you what, when we get home, your mom and I will talk about it, okay?”

“Okay. Is it stormy where you are? It’s really stormy here.  It’s kinda scary! The thunder is really loud and it’s really windy. It never gets THIS bad at home. We get storms, but they’re not as scary as this one. I wish you were here; it wouldn’t be as scary.  You always built a fort in the living room so we can all sleep together and we won’t be afraid.  You always make it fun. Like we’re on a camping trip. We forget about being scared when you’re with us. I wish you were here, daddy.”

He swallows around the lump of emotion sitting square in his throat. “I wish I was there too.”

“Did you watch my video? I sent it to your email. Did you get it?”

“I did. But I haven’t watched it yet.  I was going to do that before bed. So I could have good dreams instead of bad ones.”

“That’s  a good idea! Maybe you can send ME a video and I can watch it before bed and that way I’LL have good dreams too.”

“You know what I’ll do? I’ll make a video for all of you and then you can all watch it before bed. Sound good?”

“Sounds good!”

“I gotta go. I’ve got an important meeting I have to get to. But I’ll make the video and I’ll send it to Auntie Nik’s email. You tell her I’m doing that, okay?”

“Okay. I miss you, daddy. I love you.”

“I miss you too. And I love you. ALL of you. So much. And I’ll see you guys in a few days.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah.” He hopes he sounds more confident than he feels. “I promise.”

****

It takes four attempts before he gets a usable video to send to the kids; trying to keep it light and cheerful and finding himself stumbling over his words and fighting back tears.  The last thing he wanted was to turn a bedtime message into something so dark and depressing. Even Millie -who is incredibly intuitive and had known from the start that Mumbai wasn’t a normal family holiday- doesn’t know the full extent of just how serious things are. He doesn’t want to scare them; seeing daddy emotional will only cause them to ask questions no one truly has answers for.  And it would only send their fears and anxiety -especially Tanner’s- through the roof. In the end he’d been able to hold it together. Reciting one of their favorite bedtime stories by heart and telling them how much he  loves them and misses them; promising that they’ll all be heading home soon. The latter had actually helped lift his own spirits. Saying the words out loud doing wonders for his confidence;  the promise itself -and not wanting to break it-  giving his motivation a desperately needed kick in the ass.

By the time he journeys downstairs, Yaz has already arrived; joining Esme, Koen, Rata and two of Anil’s men -who’d been ordered to help out in each and every way possible- in the living room. And the younger man pauses in the setting up of his laptop in order to greet Tyler with a warm,  tight hug and a playful backhand to an unshaven cheek.  He sees the exhaustion that clouds Yaz’ eyes and dampens his smile; his own fears and worries revolving around a heavily pregnant girlfriend back home. It’s been hell on everyone; long hours and restless sleep and one stumbling block after another. There’s finally some light at the end of that very long and winding tunnel. It’s faint, but at least it’s there.

He pours himself a coffee from the freshly brewed pot in the kitchen and then joins the others. Returning Esme’s smile as she looks up at him, giving her a wink before taking a seat beside her and then pressing a kiss to her temple as he leans into her. Her hand slides along his inner thigh and then settles on his knee;  squeezing lightly before her fingers locate the most tender area and begin digging and manipulating. She doesn’t need to be asked; always knowing where the painful spots are and never hesitating to provide even the smallest bit of relief.

“I hope this weather isn’t some kind of bloody omen,” Raka grumbles.   Nervously bouncing  his legs and both jumping and looking towards the sliding glass doors with each boom of thunder that  shakes the  house.

“Forty damn years old and he’s scared of a wee storm,” Koen scoffs.

Rata glares at him. “A wee storm? Sounds like Mother Nature is getting ready to blow shit up!”

“Do you need your favorite blanket? A warm bottle of milk? Someone to cuddle with you? It’s nothing but some wind and a bit of rain.”

“That’s more than just some wind and some rain!” his friend argues. “It’s like the end of the world out there! And if this some kind of omen about how things are going to go down…”

“Ain’t no bloody omen!” Koen laughs “Don’t tell me you believe in all that shit. Signs and karma and all that hoodoo voodoo, hocus pocus crap!”

“I d0n’t know,” Esme says, as she reaches for a mug of tea sitting on the coffee table. “I like to think that karma exists and that it finally caught up to my ex. Because if anyone deserved to be hit head on by the karma bus, it was him.”

Tyler nods in agreement and takes a swig of coffee.

“So what’s it looking like?” Koen addresses Yaz. “End getting close or what?”

“Depends on what news you guys have for me.  I know where I stand on my end of things. What about over here?”

“I was able to get an extra twenty four hours,” Esme says. “But I really had to up the ante; an extra five million wasn’t going to cut it. I had to promise another ten. I tried to talk them down, but it was either the extra ten or pieces of Neysa and Aarev start washing up on the shores of Buriganga in a few days' time.”

“And Anil was willing to up that much?” Yaz asks. “IF it comes down to having to pay the ransom?”

“He didn’t hesitate when I told him. I don’t know where he gets all his money from, but he acted like it was nothing more than pocket change. He’s prepared to pay IF all else fails.  But they still won’t give me proof of life unless I agree to meet them at Asif’s house and have them take me to where they’re being held.”

“Which is NOT happening,” Tyler says. “There’s no way in hell that’s happening.”

“Now hold on a second,” Koen speaks up. “It’s the way that makes the most sense.”

Tyler frowns. “What are you talking about? It makes no sense. You really think they’re going to keep their word? That they won’t hurt her? They’ll use her as bait. She won’t get anywhere near Neysa and Aarev; they won’t take her there. They’ll keep her at Asif’s and do God knows what to her until I show up to get her out.”

“She won’t be going alone,” Koen points out.

“I don’t give a shit if there’s ten of you going with her. She’s not doing this. She’s not going there. No fucking way.”

“But when they take  her there...US there...you just follow behind and…”

“You’re not hearing me, mate. They won’t take her anywhere. They’ll kill you, then use her to bait me. And they’ll do all kinds of sick and twisted shit to her. You’re just going to take them at their word that they won’t hurt her? I know you’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you’re not THAT stupid.”

“Okay….” Esme speaks up. “...why don’t we all calm down and talk through all of this rationally. There’s got to be another way to find out where Neysa and Aarev are that doesn’t involve having to go to Asif’s house. We all know it’s a trap. We can’t trust a single word they say and there no doubt in my mind they’d keep me in order to get Tyler to show up.”

“She’s NOT going,” Tyler stresses. “End of story. After tonight, her part in this is down. She did everything we needed her to do. Enough’s enough. I’m not risking her or the…” he catches himself. “...I’m not risking her. We gotta find another way.”

“I think I have one.” Yaz says. “It unfortunately does involve sending people to Asif’s house, but not in an official capacity. What if I can get people to plant tracking devices on a few of the cars that are always coming in and out of there? We’ve had eyes on that place since we got here; there’s a constant flow of the same six vehicles going in and out at all hours of the day. If I can get some guys close enough to put some GPS trackers in place, we just sit back and see if any of them visit a storage facility.”

“The storage thing was just something I pulled out of my ass,” Tyler admits.  “What I saw in the pictures and the videos reminded me of where we held McMann. That’s the only reason I said. Could be a factory or a warehouse for all I know.”

“What if it’s Asif’s basement?” Esme asks. “Does that place have one? Or a cold cellar or something like that? Cements walls and floors? Could be a basement or a cellar of some kind. It would explain no windows.”

“Well that makes it even more complicated if it is,” Koen grumbles. “How would we ever find that out? We can’t just go on up and knock on the front door and ask for a tour.”

“Any way of getting eyes in there?” Tyler asks Yaz.  “It wouldn’t hurt ruling it out. Kind of fitting if it is where they’re holding them. Almost like they’re offering them up as some sacrifice to Asif.  Appease the Gods of whatever the fuck they believe in.”

“I’d have to study the blueprints again,” Yaz says. “I didn’t see a basement, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. A lot could have changed since the originals were made; people renovate and add on all the time. We definitely need to check it out. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”

“Can you do it?” Tyler inquires. “Get eyes in there?”

“It’ll be hard. But I’m sure I can come up with something.   There’s got to be a way of getting in there without tripping the alarms or grabbing their attention. I’ll work on it.”

“I think the bigger worry right now is the bridges,” Esme pipes up. “Koen and I saw it with our own eyes. They are locked down and both the police AND the military are manning the road blocks. And they have pictures of me, of Tyler, and they’re comparing them to everyone that goes in or out. Whether they’re walking or driving.”

“They do have them locked pretty tight,” Koen confirms. “There’s no way we could get him across without him being seen.”

“What about going in from the north?” Esme suggests. “Does anyone know if they’ve got things blocked off up there too? If you go north into one of the smaller towns, you can  backtrack your way into Dhaka,  You can’t send a chopper right into the city; you just can’t. Not when even the police and military are wanting to cash in on the bounty. A chopper is big and noisy and that’s way too much attention right off the hop. But if you take one into one of the towns north of the city, you can drive back in. IF there’s no roadblocks that way.”

“That’s a big if,” Tyler says.

“I can send some people to check it out,” Yaz offers. “There’s a lot of remote areas north of Dhaka. Could them in, get them to see what’s going and probably have an answer in five or six hours. Gotta mobilize them first.  Have they sent anything? For proof of life? Any pictures, videos…?”

“The last proof Anil received was three days ago,” Esme sighs. “Nothing since.”

“So they could be dead,” Koen concludes.

“There’s no way they’re dead,” Tyler says. “They need them alive. They know if I don’t come there, they’re going to have to settle for the cash. Which means they have thirty million reasons to keep them alive.”

Or they could kill them and just let on that they’re alive,” Koen argues. “Bait you there with the impression that they ARE still breathing.”

“That’s highly unlikely,” Yaz speaks up. “This is a huge pay day for these guys. If Tyler bails, the money is all they have. They’ll take it.”

“Then why not just bail?” Rata asks.  “Why not just say ‘fuck it’ and get out of here? Just let Anil give them the money. Hand over the cash and Neysa and Aarev go free, that’s it.”

“It isn’t just about Neysa and Aarev,” Esme reminds him. “It started with the threats against them and it escalated into a whole lot more. WAY more than any of us thought it would. Did any of us image it would get this far? Did any of us really think it would get this bad? It never should have led to this.”

“This is about my family too,” Tyler adds. “Look at all the shit that’s been said. About my wife, about my kids. You think I’m really going to sit back and let them get away with it? If it was you girl, would you just tuck your tail between your legs and run?”

“Of course I wouldn’t. I’d fight too. But haven’t we fought enough? We took care of all those people on that list. Just like we were supposed to. It’s not our fault that Mahajan changed the game when he grabbed the woman and the kid. We did what we set out to do. So why don’t we just say fuck it and go home?”

“Why don’t YOU just say fuck and go home?” Tyler retorts. “If you can’t handle it, just say so. If you’re scared to do this…”

“I’m not scared of shit!” Rata interjects. “I just don't understand why we keep busting our asses like this. Haven’t we done enough? We got all the names checked off the list, Anil is going to take care of Mahajan. We’re done.”

“We are NOT done.” Esme argues. “They have Neysa and Aarev. And Nathan. Did you forget about him? I know he’s no one’s favorite, but they have him too. We can’t just leave them there.”

“And we can’t leave Asif’s people alive,” Koen adds “They’re too much of a threat; especially to Esme and the kids.  We leave them alive and they’ll always pose a threat. We have to get rid of them so Tyler and his family can leave in peace.”

“If you want to go, go,” Tyler says. “You want to walk away, no one will fault you for it. This has been sheer fucking hell from day one. If you’re tired and you’ve had enough then just walk away. I won’t hold it against you.”

“I sure as hell will,” Koen snarls.

“I ain’t leaving you two useless assholes here!” Rata protests. “Someone has to make sure things get done right. Might as well be me.”

Koen gives a derisive snort and shakes his head.

“Well it’s true,” Rata mutters, and leans back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m the one who’s been doing it all right since the beginning.”

“I’ll get trackers on the cars right away and send people north,” Yaz announces, and snaps the lid on his laptop closed. “We’re in the end game now.  Everyone needs to keep on their toes and be ready to go at any given moment.”

“What happens when we get where we’re going?” Koen asks. “When the shooting starts? That’s going to bring a whole lot of attention our way. We’re going to have every fucking drongo in Dhaka showing up. Regular people, cops, military. How do we deal with all of that?”

“That’s why we have guns,” Tyler informs him. “They shoot at you, you shoot back. And shoot to kill. Injuring them will do shit. You gotta put them down and put them for good.”

“What if someone creates a few distractions on the bridges?” Esme addresses Yaz “I’m sure Anil has some extra people he can lend or even people here in Dhaka that he can convince to go against Asif. If we have people causing a disturbance on the bridges, all the attention will be down by the water.”

“Not just a pretty face,” Koen teases, and shoots her a playful wink.

“I like that idea,” Rata enthuses, “Stir up some chaos. Shoot some people, blow some shit up.”

“Well I was thinking relatively non violent,” Esme says. “But yeah, that works too.”

“Just remember to not shoot unless you’re being shot at,” Yaz instructs. There’s a lot of Dhaka. Good, innocent people.  We don’t want their deaths on our hands. Know your target before engaging. And believe me, you’ll know your targets.”

“They don’t waste time shooting,” Esme adds. “Thankfully, most of them can’t shoot for shit. So your chances are pretty good that you won’t get hit.”

“Until they shoot you from behind,” Tyler smirks. “Then all of a sudden they’re really good shots.”  He immediately regrets saying it; noticing the way Esme’s entire body stiffens and hears the heavy sigh that escapes her lips.

“Ask me, that was just luck,” Yaz remarks. “Extremely bad on your part, extremely good on his.”

“Can we NOT talk about?” Esme irritably requests. “We don’t need to talk about this.”

“Gonna need eyes in the back of our heads,” Rata grumbles. “If these fuckers are known for cutting you down from behind.  I don’t want to be catching one in the throat. I wouldn’t be so lucky, that’s for sure.”

“No sense rehashing all of that,” Yaz attempts to derail the conversation. “It was a long time ago. Let’s concentrate on now and…”

“I’m just saying,” Rata continues. “If we got kids out there putting bullets in our backs or our necks…”

“Enough,” Tyler orders. “We all know what happened. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“You got lucky,” his friend informs him. “Someone was there to save your ass. All you bastards would high tail it out of there and let me fend for myself.”

“This conversation is not for me,” Esme declares, and shrugs Tyler’s hand off her shoulder when he tries to prevent her from standing up. “I’m not talking about this. I don’t even want to hear about it. Bad enough I had to go through it. Last thing I want to do is relive it.”

The next thirty second feels as if it lasts thirty minutes. Tension filled silence and a painful awkwardness; all four men attempting to avoid eye contact with one another and trying not to acknowledge the obvious tears sparkling in Esme’s eyes and the way she drops her empty mug into the sink with a loud clatter. Or the way she hurries from the room; light footsteps impossibly loud on the stairs.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Koen angrily elbows Rata in the ribs. “You know we don’t talk about that. We never talk about that.”

“It’s been seven years! I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

“It’s a big fucking deal! To her, anyway. You better start kissing some serious ass, you fucking drongo!”

As his friends continue to bicker, Tyler leans forward and places his forearms on his thighs. Eyes on his feet as the fingers of his right hand fidget with his wedding band; twirling it back and forth, pulling it up to the knuckle and sliding it back down again A nervous habit that creeps up when his anxiety rears its ugly head or the PTSD is gearing up to unleash hell.

Yaz slips into the empty seat beside him, then leans in close. “Still a sore spot for her, huh?”

Tyler nods in confirmation.

“It won’t be much longer until go time. Think she’s going to be able to handle it?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I honestly don’t know.”

******

He manages an hour and a half of sleep. Waking to the sounds of Esme muttering and whimpering beside him. Her body drawn impossibly tight and her hands tightly gripping the bottom sheet; heels  digging into the mattress as if trying to push herself away from an attacker.  He opted not to shake her awake, wanting to avoid sending her into a panic and turning her extremely combative.  He’d learned the hard way how NOT to handle a night terror. Confronted by a five foot nothing woman with the sudden strength of three grown men and having to physically restrain her until the nightmare released her from its clutches and she came out of it on her own.

Instead he took the easier approach. Rolling over onto his side and laying an arm across her midsection and draping one leg over both of hers and effectively keeping her flailing limbs and trembling body still.  A forearm resting lightly on the top of her head and his fingers reaching for her face; gently clearing tears off of her cheeks and lightly tracing random patterns on her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. Within minutes she’d been successfully comforted. Body finally stilling, tears ceasing,  eyes never opening as she issued a heavy sigh and moved onto her side.

After that, all hope of getting back to sleep had abandoned him, and for the last hour he’s been lying there in silence. Holding her as tightly as her body will allow him to; face buried in her hair as he listens to her soft, rhythmic breathing. And when her body grows uncomfortable with the heat radiating from his own and the weight of his limbs becomes  too much, she moves away and he gives  up on rest entirely. Sliding out of bed and then bunching up both of his pillows and placing them -one on top of the other, lengthwise- behind her back. If she rolls over in her sleep and blindly reaches for him, she’ll at least discover the pillows; his scent hopefully enough to comfort her.  

He’d fallen asleep fully clothed. Wanting to be ready at the drop of a hat; whether it be a phone call from Yaz or a threat on their doorstep.  And he picks up the holster -gun securely stored inside- from it resting on the nightstand; clipping it to the waist of his jeans and then shoving his feet into his combat boots, lacing them tightly before leaving the room.

He grabs some fresh air; giving the guards a nod in greeting as he steps out onto the back porch. While the storm had settled hours ago, it had brought no relief. Heat near stifling, the humidity already oppressive; causing sweat to quickly bead across his forehead and to gather at his temples and the nape of his neck.  The air is thick and heavy, yet he barely notices it as he sits on the edge of the deck. Jaw firmly set, elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together; eyes dark and staring out into the stillness of the night. He neither sees or acknowledges anything around him. Not the movement of the guards patrolling the darkened perimeter or their quiet conversation. Not the faint music coming from the neighbouring home or the chirping of the crickets.  

His mind is switching over now, and soon his senses and instincts will kick into high gear; his brain thinking of nothing but the task directly in front of him. The adrenaline is starting to build; that rush of blood in your veins and the anticipation that causes your heart to speed up and your stomach to flutter. For now he’s still experiencing other emotions as well; worry, nervousness, fear. Haunted by the thought that he could be called upon at any given moment and he many never return to his old life.  To that sprawling, beautiful home   on the beach with its million dollar view. To the sound of his children laughing and playing. To kissing his wife good morning when she wanders into the kitchen clad in one of his t-shirts. To kissing her goodnight and having that warm, supple body snuggled into his; her breath tickling his skin and that familiar smell clinging to her hair.

It’s shortly before one in the morning when he heads back inside. The house shrouded in silence; the open concept living, dining, and kitchen area illuminated only by the light above the stove. Instead of returning upstairs, he sinks into the easy chair in the living room; relieved that he’s able to stretch out his legs without wincing or groaning from discomfort.  The two pills he’d taken almost three hours ago effectively reducing both his pain and stiffness yet not leaving him groggy or with altered senses. It’s a temporary fix; he knows long term usage is out of the questions. His body will get accustomed to both the drug and the dosage and soon the need for more will start. The cravings will kick in soon afterwards, and he’ll find himself desperate for a fix and willing to do anything to get it. Seeking out a doctor is the safest and only hope he has; whether it be through extensive physio or surgery.  And he’s more than willing to put in the time and the effort. After all, it’s the only way he’ll be able to keep his life from falling apart.

“Tyler?”

His eyes snap open at the sound of her voice, and he glances towards where she’s paused at the middle landing of the stairs.  “Yeah?”

“Just checking to see if it was you. I didn't want to come down there and sit on someone and find out the hard  way it’s Koen.”

“Might give the guy a heart attack. Probably the most attention he’s had from a woman in a long time.”

“Everything okay?” she asks, as she descends the remaining stairs  and joins him; settling herself sideways on his lap with her legs dangling over the arm of the chair.  

“Everything’s good.”

“You feeling alright?” She pushes a hand through his hair, palm settling at the back of his head, nails lightly massaging his scalp.

“I’m feeling pretty good, actually. Those meds are doing their job. For now anyway.” He turns his face into hers and places a kiss to each corner of her mouth before covering it with his own.  One hand sliding up and down her back as the other settles on her hip. “You okay? You were having a pretty bad dream, huh?”

She nods in confirmation.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” she says, and rests the side of her head on his shoulder.

“So it was about me?”

Another nod.

“That bad?”

“Bad enough. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” he assures her, and rests the tip of his nose against his forehead, feeling the tickle of her lashes when she closes her eyes.

“Nice attempt with the pillows though,” she says.

“It usually works.”

“I woke up completely this time. And then I panicked; I was worried you’d gotten the call and left without saying bye.”

“I’d never leave without telling you. We have our thing, yeah? Shit we always say to each other before I go? It’s like my good luck charm; say those words and everything will go right.”

“It’s held up so far. You started saying it when you went back to the job the first time and you’ve been saying it ever since.”

“Pretty good track record. I wouldn’t risk screwing things up by leaving without waking you up and telling you. You sure you’re alright? Dream still got you rattled?”

“A little,” she admits. “It was scary. And gruesome. I haven’t had one that bad in a long time.”

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about it?”

“I don’t.” She nuzzles the side of his neck with the tip of her nose, then presses a kiss to it. “It was bad…” her voice cracks. “...it was really bad.”

“It’s okay…” the hand on her back moves up to her hair, slightly stroking it as his other hand rubs her hips. “...everything’s fine. I’m right here.”

“For now.”

“We knew this was coming.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier. I know you have to go, but it doesn’t mean I want you to.”

“Would it make you feel better if I wore my lucky underwear?”

“You didn’t bring them. I packed your bag, remember?”

“And you didn’t put  them in? What’s wrong with you?”

“The only thing those underwear are lucky for is making babies. Declan, Addie. I bet you were wearing them when this one was made too.”

A hand moves to the small baby bump already straining against her pyjamas pants. “I wasn’t wearing any.”

“You don’t even know what day this one was made on. How do you know if you were wearing underwear or not? You can’t remember what you had for breakfast most days.”

“I figure if I don’t wear them six days a week, the chances are pretty high that I wasn’t wearing any that day.”

“Maybe THAT’S why your sperm is so good. You’re not suffocating them all the time. They're free range. They’re not penned in and they can come and go as they please. Like how the chickens in Colorado used to poop out butt nuggets everywhere.”

Tyler chuckles. “Butt nuggets.”

“I used to call eggs that all the time when I was a kid,” Esme muses. “My dad taught me. We’d have a big family breakfast every Sunday; like we do now.  And he’d always ask me how I wanted my butt nuggets cooked. My mom would get so mad! She hated that we were so close. I think in a way she was jealous. I was her first girl and I wanted nothing to do with her. She couldn’t figure out that she was the reason I didn’t want to be around her. And here we are, thirty some years later and she still has no clue. Makes me sad for our kids; they don’t even have one grandmother. Your mom would have been so good with them. I just know it. Her only kid...her son...having kids of his own?”

“She would have spoiled the hell out of them. She would have loved them; there’s no doubt about that.”

“She’d be so proud of you. For how you turned out.”

“Something tells me she wouldn’t he completely on board with the whole hired gun thing.”

“I’m not talking about that. I mean how you turned out as a man. If she was alive right now, she’d know all the struggles you went through and saw all the battles you fought and how you beat every single one. And she’d see how you turned out as a husband and a father despite not having the best role model to emulate.”

“Growing up I told myself that I’d never be like him. That I’d never turn out like that.”

“And you didn’t. You work hard at it every single day; to not be like him. It would have been so easy for you; to end up the same way. But you went in the opposite direction.”

“You keep forgetting that the first time didn’t turn out so good.”

“You were a kid when you got married the first time,” Esme reasons. “And judging by the stories I’ve heard she wasn’t exactly wife material.”

“She had her flaws , that’s for sure. One of them just happened to fucking anyone that showed interest.”

“Well if you ask me, she must have been crazy. Cheating on the likes of you? Why give up filet mignon for ground beef?”

“So I really AM just a piece of meat to you,” he teases, and she giggles when he kisses the side of her neck and playfully pinches her side.

“I’m just saying that I don’t get it. Why do you cheat when you have an amazingly hot husband that’s a god in bed? There has to be something seriously wrong with someone. And don’t get me started on how you were deployed when she would do it. Your husband is off...in the Middle East...getting shot at it and trying not to get blown up by roadside bombs...and you’re back home serving as the base slut? That’s the lowest of the low!”

“I guess both of us weren’t very good judges of character when we were younger.”

“There is a bright side though. To what we both went through the first time around.”

“What’s the bright side?”

“Well if things had been wonderful  in either of our first marriages, neither of us would  have ended up doing the job. You probably would have stayed in the military and I probably would have been a happy little housewife. In the PTA and driving a minivan and taking the kids to soccer and drinking Starbucks.”

“You take the kids to soccer now. Except it’s a thermos with  homemade coffee with Bailey’s in it. “

“That’s in the cooler weather. When it’s hot, it’s pink lemonade with vodka.”

He grins and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Hey, it’s not the most exciting sport in the world; I have to get through it somehow. And I also have to survive all the thirsty females that show up whenever you coach. I don’t know how they know when it’s your turn, but that many never show when you’re not there. And they show up in their slutty little outfits and their make up done. And there I am; no makeup, ball cap on yoga pants and UGG boots and one of your hoodies. And you wonder why I have self confidence issues.”

“Who cares about the thirsty women? I only have eyes for you, you know that.”

“I care when they’re openly discussing my husband’s ass and his muscles and his bulge.”

“You should have married an uglier guy with a small dick then,” Tyler teases.

“I did that with my first marriage. I traded up the second time around.”

“Just ignore them. I do. I don’t pay attention to them. I don’t need to. I’m already married to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Wow…” she’s grinning as she pulls back to look at him. “...do you ever know how to lay it on thick.”

“It’s the truth. That’s how I see you. I’ve always seen you that way. It’s how I’ll always see you. So fuck ‘em. Who’s the one I go home with? Who’s the one I share a bed with every night?”

“Me. Lucky little old me.”

“Exactly. It’s always been you. It always will be. I choose you every day.”

“Even when my hair hasn’t been washed in four days and I’ve got baby puke on my clothes and dark circles under my eyes and I’m a raging bitch?”

“Even then.”

“Now THAT is true love,” she says, and places both hands on the side of his as she kisses him. Nothing hurried or overly needy; soft and languid, lips moving slowly against one another. And when she pulls away he sees the tears that sparkle in her eyes and the way the corners of her mouth droop.

“Baby…”  he combs his fingers through her hair, then kisses the bridge of her nose and cradles her cheek in the palm of his hand. “...don’t…”

“I don’t want you to go. I know you have to; it’s the only way this will ever be finished. But I still don’t want you to leave. I wish there was another way; to end all of this.”

“Believe me, so do I.”

“I’m scared. This is the most scared I’ve ever been. I wasn’t even this scared seven years ago.”

“We barely knew each other then,” he reasons. “But now…”

“There’s so much to lose. Way too much. If something happens to you…”

“Stop…” he lays a hand on the back of her head and draws it down to his, pressing their brows together. “...just stop.”

“You have to come back for me. You HAVE to. Promise me you’ll come back for me.”

“Esme…”

“Promise me, Tyler,” she pleads, fingers tightly gripping his hair. “Promise me.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“At least promise you’ll try? That you’ll do whatever it takes to get back here. Can you promise me that at least?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he vows,  and places a kiss on her forehead. “I promise.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2020 #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth character #best part of me

[floralege]

ship meme thing for allllllla our ships xoxo orumad

omg  the  whole  SQUAD  let’s  fuckin  DO  THIS  !!!   @orumad

who is the most affectionate ?

cilla  and  daisy  are  EXTREMELY  affectionate,  they  just  love  holding  hands,  kissing,  just  being  close.  mick  loves  having  his  arm  around  del’s  waist,  and  he  gets  progressively  more  affectionate  as  the  drinks  go  around.  pru  is  affectionate  with  bee  in  a  very  Horny  Girl  way  24  /  7  so  her  affection  actually  becomes  very  sweet  when  she’s  drunk  /  high.  we’re  not  at  all  surprised  that  caia  and  lauren  are  the  queens  of  affection,  but  mostly  to  each  other.

big spoon  /  little spoon ?

considering  that  she’s  a  vampire,  elliot  needs  SOMETHING  to  feel  like  a  Big  Man  (  ugh,  boys  )  so  he’s  def  got  big  spoon  energy.  liam’s  big  spoon,  but  he’s  always  poking  fern’s  back.  romy  is  big  spoon  for  molly,  but  that’s  probably  an  ego  thing  because  she  def  bottoms.  WHY  am  i  soft  about  duffy  platonically  cuddling  vee  their  whole  lives  until  one  day  it  doesn’t  feel  Very  Friendly  ?  big  soft.

favorite non - sexual activity ?

hunting  sport  (  re:  stupid  humans  )  for  gid  and  rome,  but  at  some  point,  that  turns  a  lil  sexual.  before  he  got  swept  up  into  work,  grady  loved  watching  tracy / hepburn  films  with  cecile.  liam  and  fern  genuinely  loving  jamming  and  shit  talking  together,  cilla  and  henry  love  spontaneous  date  nights,  emmy  and  dom  drink  and  plot  together  that’s  almost  foreplay.  emile  and  marilyn  taunt  each  other  mercilessly,  but  they  really  do  enjoy  getting  to know  one  another  without  that  pressure.  camille  and  emile  are  the  masters of  non  sexual  intimacy,  so  they’ll  just  stare  at  the  sky  or  make  more  awful  bets  with  one  another.

who is most likely to carry the other ?

Big  Ivor  carries  Little  Cecile  and  yes,  we  love  it  !  dusty  probably  carries  vee  and  lucas  around  constantly.  in  a  sad  way,  molly’s  probably  carried  romy  out  of  many  bars  :(  johnny  drags  cam’s  tiny  ass  out  of  clubs,  sadie  and  del  are  both  going  Through  It  so  they  carry  each  other  out  of  many  los  angeles  night  clubs  where  they’ve  started  shit  and  don’t  want  to  deal  with  it.

what is their favorite feature of their partner’s ?

gideon  fully  believes  that  rome  is  the  most  beautiful  creation  of  all  time,  though  he’d  fuck  himself  with  a  chainsaw  before  ever  acknowledging  it  aloud.  hannah  is  genuinely  attracted  to  freddie’s  inherent  goodness  and  idk,  probably  feels  some  connection  with  that  sort  of  brokenness,  too.   pru  loves  bee’s  nose  and  will  do  the  bradley  cooper  nose  touch  thing  from  a  star  is  born  when  she’s  drunk,  probs  to  bee’s  annoyance.  jack  literally  believes  is  kimber  is  SO  fucking  cute  and  wonderful,  it  aches  her.  mick  is  obvs  taken  with  the  eyes  AND  the  boobs.  call   it  fucked,  but  emmy  loves  when  dom  goes  ice  cold  on  someone  ---  just  not  HER.

what’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other ?

johnny  and  cameron  likely  bickered  more  often  and  tbh,  i  feel  like  one  mick  realized  he  had  legit  feelings  for  delphine,  he  acted  super  weird  and  the  whole  family  noticed.  fern  was  probably  very  gentle  about  it  but  liam  went  full  tf  is  up  with  you,  kid  ?  cameron  and  freddie  always  inherently  had  feelings  for  one  another,  so  it  was  just  there  from  the  get  go.  

nicknames  ?  and  if  so,  how  did  they  originate  ?

most  of  the  nicknames  are  just  ones  everyone  sort  of  had  growing  up  ?  pru,  bee,  vee,  mickey,  duffy,  del,  etc.  like,  i  don’t  know  if  any  nicknames  are  singular  to  any  particular  ship  tbh  they’re  free  for  everyone.

who worries the most ?

fern  worries  about  liam  more  than  she  lets  on  and  it’s  probably  her  inner  saboteur  that  has  her  cope  with  that  by  drinking  with  ethan.  gideon  worries  about  lauren  CONSTANTLY,  because  he’d  legit  die  if  anything  happened  to  her  or  caia.  he  doesn’t  worry  about  rome  necessarily,  but  he  gets  wind  of  her  endeavors  without  him  and  hopes  she’s  staying  safe.  jack  wonders  if  she’s  going  to  fall  into  old  habits  the  longer  she’s  around  pru,  del,  and  co.,  so  she’s  worried  about  disappointing  /  hurting  kimber  because  of  that.  arlo  knows  coco  has  her  shit  together,  but  he  can’t  help  but  worry  !!!  she  doesn’t  need  his  concern  and  he  knows  she  can  handle  herself  but  he  does  !!  want  to  help  !!

who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant ?

bee  probably  remembers  the  food  at  fancy  restaurants  that  don’t  make  pru gag,  so  she  always  reminds  her  what  to  get  ;  dom  can  be  upsettingly  charming  when  he  remembers  what  daisy’s  favorite  dessert  is,  and  she’s  never  convincing  when  she  pretends  to  be  annoyed  that  he’s  already  ordered  it.  on  the  flip  side,  emmy’s  known  dom’s  drink  order  since  they  were  sixteen.  grady  remembers  the  gist  of  cecile’s  favorite,  but  ivor’s  always  the  one  who  rushes  to  the  kitchen  to  let  the  chef  know  exactly  what  her  preference  is.  simon  has  em’s  thai  takeout  order  MEMORIZED.

who tops ?

shocked  to  learn  that  bee  wasn’t  kidding  about  the  occasional  topping  !  though  daphne  def  topped  her.  mick  physically  tops,  del  does  it  emotionally.  molly  tops  romy  which  is  amazing  for  their  height  difference,  and  olivia  and  esme  def  battle  it  out  every  time,  LOVE  that  for  them.

who initiates kisses ?

cilla  is  big  on  kissing  often,  so  henry  tends  to  arrive  at  parties  with  some  trace  of  her  lipstick  on  him  every  time.  with  everything  going  on  in  the  press,  dom  and  emmy  are  wise  to  play  up  their  affection,  but  behind  closed  doors,  he’s  definitely  the  one  to  initiate.  dusty  probably  drunk  kisses  lucas  every  time  and  it’s  just  never  mentioned  ever  again.  jack’s  horny  on  main,  so  she’s  always  all  over  kimber.  meg  initiates  kisses  often,  though  mostly  as  a  power play.

who reaches for the other’s hand first?

cameron,  always.  johnny,  freddie,  cecile,  etc  ---  doesn’t  matter,  she’s  holding  their  hand.  duffy  gets  VERY  excited  about  holding  vee’s  hand,  so  he  tries  it  often.  jimmy  probably  tried  to  hold  sadie’s  hand  once  and  she  elbowed  him,  but  caia  loves  all  form  of  affection,  so  she  got  very  flustered  when  he  first  grabbed  hers.  simon’s  learned  to  place  a  hand  at  the  small  of  em’s  back  when  they  attend  events  together.

who kisses the hardest ?

unless  she’s  drunk,  pru  has  no  idea  how  to  be  soft  so  she’s  always  kissing  with  a  bigger  plan  in  mind.  liam  probs  kisses  rough,  too.  simon’s  big  on  heady  kisses,  and  if  ivor  ever  gets  the  chance,  HELL  YEAH.

who wakes up first ?

cilla’s  only  an  early  riser  if  she  hasn’t  gone  to  bed,  so  henry’s  usually  the  one  trying  to  make  sure  she’s  up  before  noon.  dom’s  always  up  early,  and  while  daisy  was  the  type  to  mumble  sweetly  for  him  to  stay  longer,  emmy  usually  doesn’t  stir  unless  she  wakes  up  in   a  Mood  and  pulls  at  him  to  stay  behind.  bee’s  always  up  before  pru,  and  pru  thinks  that’s  a  complete  crime.

who wants to stay in bed just a little longer ?

gideon  obvs  doesn’t  sleep,  but  when  he  allows  himself  to  rest,  he  demands  WEEKS  of  going  undisturbed,  so  imagine  a  pale,  lonely  freak  vampire  sitting  in  the  woods  and  staring  at  the  sky  motionless  basically.  meg,  unlike  bee,  happily  sleeps  in  late  and  takes  her  sweet  fucking  time  to  do  it,  though  with  sid  she  always  skips  out  before  morning.  ivy  doesn’t  believe  in  anything  before  one  pm,  so  surprise  surprise  that  nora  started  suggesting  breakfast  dates  for  nik.

who says i love you first ?

since  they’re  all  stupid  soft,  gonna  go  out  on  a  limb  and  assume  it  was  mostly  mine  idiots  who  said  it  first.  except  for  obvious  ones  like  sadie,  who  ran  to  the  hills,  and  gideon,  who  believes  love  is  too  weak  to  encompass  it.

who tells their family/friends about their relationship first ?

listen  EVERY  CHARACTER  IN  EVERY  GENERATION  IS  TOO  CLOSE  so  nobody  needed  to  be  told.  someone  gets  together,  and  by  the  time  they  home,  the  information  has  fully  been  spread.  

what do their family/friends think of their relationship ?

each  ship  has  their  own pros  and  cons,  and  while  certain  people  have  LOUDER  opinions  (  fern  loves  bee,  doesn’t  understand  why  pru  let  her  go  ;  if  cameron  were  alive,  she’d  be  politely  and  quietly  apprehensive  about  camille’s  friendship  with  clem’s  son, the  same  with  daisy  and  henry  /  cilla,  etc.  )   but  it’s  usually  either  we  hate  this  (  meg  @  pru/bee,  sadie  @  mick/sadie  )  or  we  love  this   (  fern  @  pru/bee,  mick  @  jimmy/caia,  dusty  @  duffy/vee  )

who is more likely to start dancing with the other ?

lauren’s  always  the  one  who  gets  elliot  dancing,  grady  would’ve  sat  in  the  corner  at  his  own  wedding  if  not  for  cecile  while  simon  LOVES  to  dance  and  always  guides  em  and  asha  out  to  the  floor.  pearl  will  pull  ANYONE  out  to  dance  with  her.

who cooks more/who is better at cooking ?

cameron  is  a  horrible  cook  and  has  set  freddie  and  johnny’s  respective  kitchens  ablaze  many  times,  marilyn  has  specialty  dishes  but  she’s  too  lazy  to  cook  often.  ivor  knows  the  basic,  but  he  whips  them  up  for  cecile.  nora’s  excellent  at  cooking,  but  for  some  reason,  only  nik  and  coco  have  ever  tried  it.  

who comes up with cheesy pick up lines ?

simon  is  often  too  hetero  for  his  own  good.  clementine  is  guilty  of  this,  too,  but  she’s  cute  enough  to  get  away  with.

who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times ?

BIG  ROME  AND  GIDEON  ENERGY.  also  big  dom  and  emmy /  daisy  energy.  jack  and  kimber  are  definitely  guilty  of  this,  too.  jules  probably  whispered  something  indecent  to  bella  at  cecile’s  wake  (  big  ow  typing  that  !  )  and  it  made  bella  feel  so  normal  for  five  seconds  that  she  was  sort  of  always  endeared  after  that.

who needs more assurance ?

given  their  history,  hannah  and  freddie  need  a  lot  of  reassurance  from  each  other.  that  was  obviously  a  problem  for  mick  and  look  how  THAT  turned  out.  immediately  post  rehab  romy  needed  a  lot  of  validation  from  molly,  which  became  messy.

what would be their theme song ?

MOST  OF  THEM  HAVE  SOUNDTRACKS  AND  SONGS  BUT  THERE  ARE  A  LIL  TOO  MANY !!!!!!

who would sing to their child back to sleep ?

cameron  could  NOT  sing,  but  did  it  all  the  time  for  daisy  and  henry,  so  bless  freddie’s  patience.  fern  walked  in  on  liam  softy  singing  one  of  his  inappropriate  songs  to  pru  once  and  loved  it,  a  la  baby  emma  and  baby  got  back.  duffy  does  this  constantly  for  his  daughter,  and  vee’s  definitely  caught  him  a  few  times.  emmy  would  never  sing,  but  she  def  played  medieval  choir  music  over  bastien’s  baby  monitor  and  dom  was  full  ????  over  this.

what do they do when they’re away from each other ?

most  of  the  time  they  literally  do  not  shut  up  about  the  other  person,  for  better  or  worse.  or  it’s  messy  and  they  don’t  consider  them  enough.  it’s  VERY  one  or  another,  which never  turns  out  well.

one headcanon about this otp that breaks your heart.

AGAIN  too  many  to  choose  from  but  the  way  we  wrote  charlie  out  and  put  johnny  in  as  daisy’s  father  ?  astounding,  10  /  10  because  that  works  a  little  TOO  well  for  the  dynamics  that  played  out  with  gen  two  and  makes  cam’s  death  hit  a  little  HARDER.  also  we’ve  been saying  this  for  years  but  ivor  /  dom  interaction  pls.  the  scandal  of  it  all.  

one headcanon about this otp that mends it.     

soft  concept  is  the scooby  gang  (  there’s  no  freddie,  just  gay  daphne,  a  shaggy  and  scooby,  and  velma  )  having  elaborate  halloween  plans  every  year,  even  if  it’s  just  to  have  a  movie  marathon.  costumes  are  often  required,  and  dusty  LOVES  some  good  riddles,  so  she’ll  get  every  stoned  and  hide  clues  around  the  apartment  that  lead  to  the  snacks.

#my brain is mush take this! pls! #creepshcw #cannot possibly tag everyone so #* ♡ . ━━━ ◜ orumad ／ ships . #also may have forgotten a few don't look at me i tried to remember everyone but u knOW

[klaroline-4ever]

Chapter 78

After breakfast, Stefan asked Klaus to help him train his fighting skills and so Klaus took him to the gym.

Elijah also decided to train Elena, but it was in their personal gym. They haven't train as much as they used to but Elijah thought that Elena training could help her not think as much about losing more people she cared about.

***

Caroline and Rebekah decided to go see how Stefan's training was going, so they surprised them at the gym and they saw Klaus kicking Stefan's ass.

"You couldn't even hurt me if you really tried to. You've got way too soft, Rippah." Klaus said.

"That's because no one could kill you if they wanted to." Stefan mumbled.

"If I wanted I would have killed Klaus a long time ago." Caroline said, making everyone look at her.

"Really, Love?" Klaus smirked in a daring way.

"Yeah. I just had to grab the white oak stake, then I would snap your neck, take you to a place no one goes, lay you down in a coffin, stab you with the white oak stake and throw the coffin to the ocean just to make sure you wouldn't get out." Caroline smiled innocently.

"Is it bad that I got completely turned on by that?" Klaus asked.

"Yes." Stefan and Rebekah said at the same time while Klaus kissed Caroline passionately.

"It's not like I would do it. How could I live without my Wolfie?" Caroline said, smiling at Klaus.

"Wolfie?" Stefan and Rebekah asked.

"Now, I would love to see you being all alpha but try not to hurt Stefan too much." Caroline whispered and Klaus nodded, showing her his golden eyes.

Klaus and Stefan went back to training, Caroline was completely drooling over Klaus and Rebekah was hiding her face with her hands, hating to see Stefan getting hurt.

***

Elena was fighting with Elijah and just won a fight against him, making her be on top of him with a smile and him on the floor, smiling at her.

"I missed our trainings." Elena whispered with a smile and felt Elijah holding her hand, making her smile even more.

She leaned in to kiss him, feeling his hand on her waist and the hand she was holding, moving to her hair, where he moved it to behind her ear, resting his hand then on her neck as they kissed.

They both looked at each other with pure love and they saw each other turn to vampires and then Elena bite Elijah's neck while he drank from her shoulder, making them feel an explosion of emotions of love, passion, lust, longing and desire.

"I love you so much, Elena Gilbert." Elijah whispered.

"I love you more, Elijah Mikaelson." Elena whispered and they kissed passionately.

***

Rebekah made Klaus give Stefan a break from training his fighting skills and took Stefan to the basement to get him more blood bags.

"I'm sorry for Nik but he kinda goes overboard when it's about fighting and showing Caroline he is the alpha." Rebekah said.

"It's fine." Stefan whispered and drain the second blood bag.

"Drink from me. You clearly need blood from the vein after fighting so long with my brother. And you don't even need to worry about draining me because if it gets to that, I'll just push you away."

"I can't let you do that. It's too personal." Stefan whispered and she gave him a look.

Rebekah, who was seating on the floor with Stefan, got on his lap, put her hair all to one side, letting him drink from her. She was doing this because she felt Stefan was doing all this just for her and also because she wanted to have Stefan drinking from her again.

As he drank from her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his soft hair, making him groan, and he found himself moving his hands from her waist to her neck, making her moan.

"Stefan..." she moaned in desire of more of his touch.

He stopped drinking from her and started to kiss her neck, making her moan again and he groaned.

"Bex..." he groaned. "I should go before I lose the little self control I have left."

"Stefan... why haven't you ask me out yet?" Rebekah asked before he could leave the basement.

"Because I want to make sure I plan the perfect date. You deserve the best of the best." Stefan admitted, taking Rebekah by surprise because she never had a guy saying such sweet things and actually meaning them.

*Meanwhile*

Caroline took advantage of being alone with Klaus to ask him to be nicer to Stefan.

"Love, he asked me to train him. I warned him that I wouldn't go soft on him." Klaus said. "I could hurt him much more if I wanted to. A vampire as old as Stefan is way stronger than him. The lack of human blood in his system is making him weaker."

"We both know he can't drink from humans. If he tries, he will loose control eventually. I'm Stefan's sober sponsor, which makes me in charge of making sure he won't go back to his old habits."

"Should I worry about how close you and Stefan are?" Klaus asked jealous, not enjoying how much Caroline cared for Stefan.

"Of course not. Stefan and I are best friends and nothing more." Caroline said but she noticed Klaus was still tense and jealous. "Look, Stefan was the one who helped me when I turned into a vampire. He helped me be a good vampire and he made me see being a vampire didn't need to be all bad. When I turned, he was the only one there for me, I mean, Elena tried but she didn't know what was like to fight the bloodlust and Bonnie didn't trust me anymore... He was always there for me and helping him out is the least I can do to repay him." Caroline said and Klaus started to feel less jealous and stop being so tense. "Nik, I'm madly in love with you. You have no reason to be jealous."

"I was not jealous. I just wanted to be sure I had nothing to worry about." Klaus said.

"You look so cute when you pout." Caroline smiled and kissed him softly.

***

Elijah let Elena take a break from training to drink one of the blood bag they had brought with them.

"Elijah, I do appreciate you train me but I feel that you're not completely here. There's something off. What is it? You can tell me. Whatever it is, you can tell me." Elena said because she didn't want to be in those couples where they never talk about how they feel or what's going on in their mind.

"Elena..."

"It's okay. Tell me." Elena reassured him.

"Before I say anything, I want you to promise me to always come to me when you have issues or when you need to talk. I don't want that to ever change."

"I promise. Now, tell me. You're starting to worry me." Elena said, starting to feel more concerned with Elijah.

"I can't stop thinking about what you told me this morning." Elijah finally admitted. "I know you went through a lot. More than you should have to. More than most people go through in their entire lives." Elijah sighed. "And, unlike what happens to most people, you didn't let that pain turn you into someone filled with hatred, you kept being this wonderful woman full of compassion and love." Elijah said, making Elena smile a little. "So when you told me that you think if someone you care about dies, you'll turn it off... I simply couldn't process that..." Elijah whispered. "Being a vampire has advantages and disadvantages... Like everything else in life. And one of the disadvantages is that when we are immortal, we lose many people we care about." Elijah said and looked at Elena, feeling his eyes watery. "I don't want you to lose your love, your compassion, your kindness and your innocence. If you turn it off, even when you turn back on, you might lose a bit of these things that make you be who you are." Elijah whispered. "Please don't turn it off. Don't you ever turn it off. Promise me that you will never turn it off."

"Elijah, I can't promise you that. I can try to fight that urge of turning it off but I can't promise you I will never do it. We are immortal and, like you said, we will lose many people we care about. And I'm a vampire now, which means I feel everything in a bigger scale." Elena said. "But I know that if something happens that makes me do that, you'll be there to make me turn my emotions back on."

"What if I can't?"

"You will." Elena said because she knew how much important he was to her and how much impact he made in her life. "But I'm not thinking now I'm turning it off. I was just upset at the time with the nightmare."

to be continued...

#fake relationship #fanfic

[undinefin]

Promises - BNHA/MHA

hello ew tumblr's new colours lmao what. anyways!! sorry ive been so busy ;; hopefully the chapter makes up for that a bit www to the like. 4 people who read this lmao Genre: fantasy Ships: kirishima x bakugou Word Count: 6662 Author: @undinefin

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Eijirou had seen towns before. When he had finally perfected his human form, he’d gone into a few near his nest before his family had to relocate. The towns there were simple. Eijirou liked that about humans. Their little daily schedules, the way they would pack bond with objects or other species, and how they put value on things like clothes or paper.

All the towns he’d seen up until this point were quiet ones, where the most action or drama would be a party, or a bar fight. Occasionally the town would hold a festival and items would either drop or raise in price. But none of them were big, he could probably cross the town in a few strides as a dragon.

But Charnom was not one of those towns.

Above the buildings were streamers and flags of different colours. The central location where Katsuki had taken him was bustling with people. Eijirou was constantly being jolted from side to side. The boy had told him to look out for something called “pickpockets” and if he did see one, he could punch them.

Eijirou could pick up all sorts of conversations. Some were discussing a ball that was supposedly next week, others were haggling for goods at stalls, a few were simply joking around with friends, though a few conversations seemed to hold some tension. The dragon had never been this overwhelmed before. He’d felt this sense of wonder from humans before, and the warm feeling of appreciation and amazement was filling him once more.

“Close your mouth, you look like an idiot,” Katsuki ordered.

Eijirou smiled instead, letting his sharp teeth show. It was the one thing he was unable to fully change. He assumed it had to do with survival and his body ensuring he could still eat properly. Sometimes he’d have little success with shaping them into small rectangles, but within a day or so they’d grow back to the sharp state.

Katsuki led them through the busy market. Eijirou wasn’t able to properly process all of the stalls around him. He could point out some food or clothing stalls. A few seemed to sell weapons, or rather strange-looking drinks.

“Oh, Katsuki-chan! It’s been a very long time,” an old woman said weakly. The pair approached a small stall that seemed to sell food.

“I’ve brought some fruit.” He placed his pack onto the counter and took out the pots. “Oi, you too.” Katsuki gestured to Eijirou, who took a moment to pay attention to the boy’s orders instead of the thousand other things happening.

The old woman smiled softly. “It’s always nice getting fruit from you Katsuki-chan. You don’t charge a lot for your services, even though finding these fruits is so hard.”

Katsuki seemed almost concerned. “Is the business going okay?” he asked.

“Well, my daughter is supposed to take over, but she’s been so busy taking care of her son. I know my son-in-law won’t want to sit here running a fruit stall, but I don’t want to pressure the family either,” the old woman explained.

“Is there anything we can do?” Eijirou asked. He struggled to untie the pot lid.

The woman’s face brightened. “Oh, if you could! I wouldn’t want to trouble such nice young men. If you could, look after my grandson for a bit, then I’d be able to go out and sell my produce to a regular buyer.”

Katsuki opened his mouth, about to reject the offer, but he turned to see Eijirou’s pleading eyes. “Fine, when do you need us?”

The smile on her face made her weathering skin wrinkle more. “Oh, just after lunch!”

Eijirou nodded pleasantly as Katsuki dragged him back into the crowded street. They blocked themselves off into a side street. The smell of garbage and rotting food was extremely pungent there. Eijirou covered his nose in order to block out the disgusting stench.

“What the fuck man? I don’t wanna babysit some kid!” Katsuki pushed Eijirou’s shoulder back.

The dragon pouted. “Well I do! I almost never get to see human children.”

“That’s what this is about? You want to see a kid?” Katsuki shouted, his voice getting throaty from exasperation. The wrinkle between his brows became bigger, signifying his annoyance. The boy took a step back, realizing he was taking up the dragon’s space and forcing him against a wall.

Eijirou nodded shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Please?” he begged.

Katsuki sighed, “Whatever, we already agreed. But you’re doing all the work, okay? If the kid shits himself I’m not cleaning it up.”

“But I don’t know how!”

“Well neither do I!”

This sent Eijirou into a bit of a frenzy, worrying and fretting over taking care of human children. He knew the problems of taking care of dragon babies, the most concerning issue being losing sight of a small reptile.

Dragons, like most creatures, were free to nature as their bathroom. However, humans, somewhere along the line, found the concept rather disgusting and insisted that there be rooms dedicated to personal hygiene. This was another interesting thing about humans, though definitely one that Eijirou found quite troublesome. A bit needless if anything.

“How do you go to the bathroom, Bakugou?”

Katsuki whipped his head around, glaring. “What the fuck man? Why do I have to tell you?”

“Well, I didn’t see a bathroom in your house so I was just wondering,” Eijirou replied. He didn’t match the embarrassment that Katsuki seemed to have.

“There’s a river a few hundred meters out I use if it’s shit, but other than that I’m just like some animal,” he begrudgingly explained. The red on his face spread to his ears. “We’re not talking about this anymore.”

The two reached the town centre, which was a large circle that held no large building or structures, save for a wooden board and a large tower. The area had a brick path that lead around it, but there was also a fair amount of greenery. All of it was planted though.

“How are those flowers even surviving here...?” Eijirou wondered aloud.

“Why? Are they not supposed to?”

“These are Campanulas, they shouldn’t grow in Amagata’s climate at all. They’re obviously imported, and someone’s regulating the temperature around them. Or maybe it’s those weird...pesty-sides? Is that what they’re called? Maybe it’s fart-ill-eezer?”

“Fertilizer? Pesticides?” Katsuki guessed.

“Yeah that! Or magic I guess. But using magic for flowers seems like a lot more work than needed.”

Katsuki stared at the pretty blue flowers. “You’d be surprised.”

Eijirou watched in pure confusion as Katsuki approached the large wooden board. He could read some of the slips of paper with relative ease. They seemed to be requests, asking for favours in return for nik.

Bored, Eijirou let his eyes wander around the rest of the opening. Unlike the busy street they had been on, the town centre was lined with little cafés, and shops that sold odd, likely unnecessary, but still fascinating trinkets.

Eijirou found himself drawn to the large tower. It was made of dark brick that seemed to be fading in the sunlight. The structure looked far too thin to house people, but the exterior wasn’t particularly interesting either. He concluded it wasn’t a form of art, but still couldn’t make heads or tails of the weird circle at the very top.

“Hey Bakugou, what’s the tower for?”

The boy looked up towards where Eijirou was pointing. “That’s a clock tower,” he said simply.

“What does it do?”

“Can you shut up and give me a few seconds, then I can explain? If you’re not going to earn money then keep quiet,” he ordered.

Eijirou nodded, though not scared or worried about Katsuki’s tone. He amused himself with the birds that were flying from one building to the next, and the few who were waiting patiently at the cafés for a speck of food. He watched a few children running around the centre, playing some game he couldn’t understand.

Finally, Katsuki turned to him. “So, you see the numbers inside the circle?” he said out of the blue. Eijirou was surprised by the sudden conversation, but quickly nodded. “And the big sticks?” Eijirou nodded again. “Well you read those, and it tells the time of day.”

“It...it’s like a sundial?” Eijirou asked. He was confused enough by the odd device at Katsuki’s house, but the clock tower seemed even more vague. Time was another concept that Eijirou didn’t share with humans. It wasn’t something so organized for dragons. Perhaps because they lived so much longer, they didn’t need such strict schedules.

“No, it doesn’t tell you the month or day. It’s just used as a general thing,” Katsuki explained.

Eijirou did notice that the circle with numbers on it – the clock perhaps – was flat, unlike the sundial Katsuki owned, which dipped inside, creating a spherical shape. “Can you read it?”

“Yeah, it’s not hard. But it’s still sort of new to Piece. From what I’ve heard, they’re gonna stop using sundials. Speaking of time, we have to go pick up that old woman’s kid soon,” he mentioned.

The dragon would have stayed and tried to figure out how the clock worked but the excitement of meeting a human child outweighed the clock tower. The two made their way back into the crowded marketplace. Again, his senses were overwhelmed from the commotion.

Between the different food stalls, potion shops, and lamp tents, Eijirou could have sworn he saw a booth that sold trappings made from dragon scales, blood, and teeth. He didn’t focus on the stall for very long. Most humans would pay thousands for items such as those. Causing a commotion would only lead to suspicion, but he still couldn't help but quicken his pace.

“Katsuki-chan, over here!” the old woman waved from beside her stall, which had a sign telling patrons that it would be temporarily closed. Beside her was a very small child, which fascinated Eijirou more than anything. Human children were often extremely cute, with their miniscule hands and impossibly high voice.

As the pair approached the old woman, the boy sneaked behind her legs, using her as a barrier. “Oh, he’s just shy! Thank you so much for doing this, it’s such a huge favour!”

Katsuki grunted. He crossed his arms and refused to pay attention to the child. Eijirou on the other hand was excitedly waving towards the kid.

“It’s no problem ma’am. We’ll take care of him for a few hours!” Eijirou promised.

The old woman stepped aside, forcing the kid out in the open. He still clung to her legs, but his small, red face was facing the pair at least. “This is Kota, my grandson. He’s twenty-months old. He knows a few words, mostly ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’ but—”

“Mommy!” Kota cried out. Tears formed at his eyes, and he clutched onto his grandmother with greater strength.

“Well, Kota can walk just fine. Take him somewhere where it’s distracting, but not busy. It’ll be great trouble if you lose him,” she laughed.

Eijirou felt his heart melt as the child begrudgingly let go of his grandmother’s leg. The dragon held out his hand, hoping Kota would take it.

“Now Kota-chan, this here is Katsuki-chan.” She pointed to Katsuki, who still refused to properly greet the child. “And this is...?”

Eijirou was caught off guard. Should he use the name he gave Katsuki? Or would someone, somehow catch onto it? No, Eijirou couldn’t take any chances. Not with his family and dragonkind being at risk just because of some stupid fight, which is what landed him in this position in the first place (not that this position was necessarily awful, it was just dangerous).

“I’m Kirishima. Nice to meet ya Kota-kun!”

The old woman pushed her grandson towards the pair. “Yes, this is Kirishima-chan. Be a good boy, okay Kota-chan?” With a kiss on the cheek, the grandmother made her way through the busy marketplace. Kota tried to follow her with his eyes, but quickly lost her in the crowd.

“Baa...Baa-cha...” he mumbled. His small voice, paired with teary eyes made Eijirou’s heart squeeze. Dragon children weren’t this cute.

Eijirou managed to slip Kota’s small hand into his, and Katsuki led them down a side street to stay away from the busy crowd.

“So, you’re twenty months old, huh Kota-kun?” Eijirou asked. His voice unconsciously pitched when talking to the child. Kota nodded slowly, bringing his thumb to his mouth to suck on. “How...how old is twenty months?” Eijirou asked, realizing he didn’t actually know what the value meant.

“God you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Hey! No swearing around the children!”

Katsuki sighed. “I don’t care damnit. The kid isn’t going to pick up any words from just two hours of being together.”

“Can I start calling you Katsuki-chan then?” Eijirou laughed.

“Absolutely fucking not! Also, twenty months is almost two years old, so he’s still basically a baby,” he answered Eijirou’s previous question.

“I...I don’t know a lot about humans but something tells me that’s incorrect.”

“Kids are all the same to me,” Katsuki defended himself. “Whatever. Where are we going with the brat?”

Eijirou looked towards Kota again, who was getting saliva everywhere from sucking on his thumb. His eyes were pinned to the floor. “Do you wanna go anywhere Kota-kun? Or do you want me and Katsuki-chan to choose?”

“Hey! Fuck you!”

“No swearing!”

Kota’s bottom lip trembled. “Baa-cha,” he said quickly.

Eijirou frowned. “I’m sorry Kota-kun, we can’t go to Baa-chan right now.” The child hung his head, whimpering and mumbling ‘Baa-cha’ over and over. “How about the town centre? Maybe we can eat something there? Or look at the birds!”

“Birdie?” His face brightened at the response. The widening eyes and curious expression slowly turning into excitement was enough for Eijirou to turn, and beg Katsuki to lead the way to the town centre.

“Look, you’re the one keeping him entertained, I’m just here babysitting two idiots,” he called from ahead. Eijirou paid the insult no mind, instead focusing on Kota, who was now excitedly jumping up and down.

***

Eijirou was impressed by how well Katsuki knew Charnom. He navigated the backstreets well, easily leading the three to the town centre. Again, Eijirou rested his eyes on the clock tower, but Kota tugging on his arm quickly distracted him. He seemed to be eagerly heading towards a flock of birds gathered at a café.

“Let him run around, it’s not as busy here. Just keep an eye on him and yell at him every so often,” Katsuki said.

Eijirou nodded, telling Kota to not wander far. The boy ran towards the birds, excitedly chasing them as they either hopped or flew out of his grasp.

“You know, the kid reminds me of you. I wonder if he’ll be anything like you when he grows up,” Eijirou commented. “Like, the spikiness of his hair is sorta’ similar, and his eyes are scarily angled that it kinda’ looks like he’s a bit mad all the time.”

“I do not look like some idiotic kid!”

The dragon laughed, showing off his pointy teeth. “Aww, is Katsuki-chan angry? Need a nap?” he teased.

“Shut your stupid face, or I’ll shut it up for you,” Katsuki growled.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“By punching your damn jaw so hard you won’t be able to laugh anymore.” Katsuki cracked his knuckles, letting out an intimidating grin. His pupils seemed to reflect a fire that wasn’t present, but Eijirou could easily picture it.

Somehow, the dragon was disappointed by the response.

At some point, between when Kota had fallen onto the floor because some bird kicked dirt into his face, and when the woman at the café had given the boy crumbs to feed the birds, a man selling balloons walked by.

Eijirou had only seen balloons about two times in his life. They were a truly mysterious creation. He found it odd how humans found happiness and excitement in some thin sheets of paper being lifted by air. When he first saw them, he initially believed the user would control the balloon by manipulating the air. It turned out that a small flame would be conjured within the paper sphere, which would lift the entire contraption. Attaching a rope to it would give humans control over the balloon, preventing it from floating away.

Balloons could come in different colours, and different shapes too. Eijirou, who was a being that relied purely on magic, marveled at the amalgamation of science and magic. His intellect might play a part in his fascination—because Eijirou could never wrap his head around such subjects like arithmetic or science—but the limitless human imagination was still amazing.

Kota ran up to the two. “Please?” he pleaded, pointing at the balloon vendor.

Eijirou turned to Katsuki, who was in charge of the wallet. “Please?” he imitated the child.  The boy caved, handing a single nik to Eijirou. The dragon took Kota’s petite hand, leading him up to the vendor. As they approached the man, the toddler grew increasingly nervous.

After some fumbling, and broken conversation, Kota walked away with a forest green balloon. The pair ran back to Katsuki, who looked unimpressed by the decision.

“Here, pass me the string,” Katsuki demanded. Kota looked hesitant, hiding his small figure behind Eijirou’s legs. Eijirou slowly pulled the child from behind him, placing Kota’s hand into Katsuki’s. The boy kneeled while tying the string around Kota’s wrist. “There, now it won’t float away.”

Kota ran around again, this time his green balloon trailing behind him. Eijirou worried a bird would pick up the piece of paper, and fly off, leaving only a fire in a small wicker basket. To distract himself, Eijirou focused again on the clock tower.

“How does it work? Magic?” he asked, noticing how the rods of the clock were now in a different position.

Katsuki shrugged, “Hell if I know. If it isn’t on magic, then it probably started with it. Most things do that.”

“So, you guys just develop from magic to science?” Eijirou echoed.

“I think so. I dunno much about either of ‘em though,” Katsuki said, finishing the conversation. “Hey, didn’t we come here to get more books in the first place? Why don’t we go over there now? Even if the kid doesn’t wanna come he doesn’t have much a choice,” he grinned.

“Bakugou!”

“I thought I was Katsuki-chan to you,” he gibed. “Oi kid, we’re going to a new place now.”

Kota was startled by Katsuki’s yell. He scurried over to Eijirou, and this time took the initiative to hold Eijirou’s hand himself. Again, they followed Katsuki’s lead to the bookstore. The building was further from the busy market place, and west of the town center. There were only four or five other people on the street where they walked, none of them conversing.

Walking into the bookstore, the unusual smell of parchment and leather filled Eijirou’s nose. The room was filled with books of different lengths. There seemed to be signs on the shelfs, marking different genres, and even languages.

It was a different sense of wonder than the market. Here, Eijirou knew that the heart and mind of all humans were collected within these pages, all concentrated in this very store. People poured their thoughts, their studies, their emotions onto the pages and spun them so the words would turn into an idea, perhaps a different idea, in another person’s head.

There was a certain kind of magic that humans held with these books; one that Eijirou hoped to understand, even just an inkling of what they contained.

Kota pointed to a book that was stood on a table at the front of the store. It was clearly on display for people to look at. “Aw-Might!”

“Who?” Eijirou asked.

“Aw-Might! Strong!” he shouted. Kota ran towards the book, and flipped through it. When the contents proved to have no images, he sadly put the book down.

Eijirou faced Katsuki. “Who’s ‘Aw-Might?’”

The shopkeeper spoke up, “Oh! Are you Bakugou-kun’s friend? I heard that you don’t get out much. But even if you live under a rock, you should surely know of the Champion.” Eijirou shook his head in confusion. “Are you a foreigner?”

“Uh...yeah,” he responded. “Not from Piece.”

The old man beamed. “I’d be glad to tell you about the Champion! You know, he’s the Pride of Piece, the Unassailable Soul, the Champion–All Might! He’s a part of the Royal Guard, but he’s so strong that he’s basically a unit on his own. I don’t think there’s a day in Piece history, where he’s lost or surrendered.”

“Woah...so he’s a super strong, manly, man?” Eijirou asked.

“Strong! Aw-Might!” Kota nodded. He held his hands out in front of him, fists balled, and began running around the room. The child spewed nonsense, copying phrases and words that were on the cover of the All Might Book.

“He is!” the shopkeeper laughed. Eijirou picked up the book, and noticed the image on the front. The Champion seemed to be a big, burly man with the largest smile Eijirou could conceive of a human. His hair seemed to be a signature of sorts. The way the blond locks formed a V-shape atop his head was unusual. On his shoulder was a massive sword, as big as the man himself. It was rusted, and cuts on the blade itself told stories in themselves of the battles the Champion had fought.

“If you’ve ever heard of the Chimera Crisis, it was the Champion who fought off the beasts from the west coast. He participated in gladiator fights when he was younger, winning them three years in a row. It’s how he became so well known. Oh! He also took out the entire Darkwing Organization on his own,” the shopkeeper rambled on.

He listed many other achievements, including a preventing an assassination on the Royal Family, and resolving the conflict between the naiads and the selkies, who were flooding the towns and displacing many habitats.

“You know,” the shopkeeper chuckled. “Bakugou-kun used to come in here and read all sorts of stories of All Might when he was a child. He was obsessed with the Champion, weren’t you Bakugou-kun?”

The boy flushed, sputtering, though not denying the statement. “I was not obsessed!”

“He was passionate,” the old man said gently.

“All kids are passionate about All Might! He’s the strongest knight in Piece!”

Eijirou laughed, mimicking whatever action Kota had done before with his arms outstretched and fists balled. “Did you pretend you could go around like this? And carry a huge sword? Huh, Katsuki-chan?” he teased.

“Don’t call me that! All Might is the idol of every kid in this country, it’s only natural that I was also a fan!”

“Oh? Are you going by Katsuki now?” the shopkeeper asked, straying from the topic.

Katsuki let out a growl, grabbing Eijirou by the flaps of his vest. His voice was hoarse from shouting, his eyes filling with white. “I don’t! Shitty Hair if you don’t fucking stop—”

“Kaccha?”

The boy saw red.

Katsuki turned to see Kota looking up at him, but his small face rounded more, and his eyes looked much bigger. His red cheeks from excitement looked instead like he was crying. The small figure was shaking in Katsuki’s eyes, and suddenly it wasn’t Kota standing in the bookstore anymore.

“Kaccha?” the toddler repeated.

Katsuki strode up to the child, his blood boiling. A part of him knew what he saw wasn’t true, but that alone wasn’t enough to stop his fist from raising above his head. Katsuki cocked his head to the side, his neck straining from the position. He stared at Kota, who was no longer Kota to him. Adrenaline ran through his blood, urging him to bring down his hand.

Kota swallowed, his eyes no longer glowing. “...scary,” he mumbled. The boy ran to Eijirou, who could only stare at the scene.

Katsuki turned to Eijirou, seeing the unnatural white in his face. Slowly realizing exactly what his actions had implied, he rushed towards the two, preparing an apology in his head. He was sweating, the palms of his hands wet from fear and anxiety.

“I didn’t—”

“No! Not Kaccha!” Kota screamed. The sound ripped through Katsuki’s ears. He lunged, preparing his hand to grab a throat.

At contact, Katsuki was holding onto small red scales. A small hiss, and a bit of smoke was released from his hand. Looking up, he met Eijirou’s eyes which wore an emotion Katsuki had never seen in them before. His eyes shone, maybe because of his draconic nature, but to Katsuki, it felt as though the dragon was going to cry.

Snapping his hand back, Katsuki stormed out of the shop. He didn’t look back, but did wait at the door for the other two. There was no movement for a long time. Katsuki simply stood, looking onto the empty street and forcing himself to push out his violent and grey memories. No, right now he had to focus on living. He wouldn’t see that damn useless guy anymore.

Katsuki slapped his cheeks. It was still a habit to call that guy useless, but Katsuki knew better than that now. That’s what he promised.

The door beside him opened slowly, and Kota walked out shyly. His hands were gripping onto his shirt, and he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bakugou-san!” he shouted.

“Good job!” Eijirou’s voice called from inside. The dragon lead the child out, so all three were on the street. Katsuki could hear the shopkeeper call out a farewell through the wall.

Katsuki took a deep breath. “Me too kid. Sorry for being bad.” He bowed his head slightly. Bad was an understatement.

Eijirou nodded. “We won’t call you that anymore. Sorry.”

Kota couldn’t hold it anymore. He began to whimper, and transitioned into a full-blown meltdown. Big tears fell down his cheeks, and his small mouth let out a perpetual, high-pitched cry. Eijirou tried to hush him, but Kota only panicked from the proximity, flailing his arms. Eijirou took the message and backed up.

The boy raised his hands and began rubbing the tears away from his eyes. Katsuki watched as the balloon’s rope slowly slid off his wrist with each rub. When Kota finally pulled his hand away, the balloon took off into the sky.

This only prompted more crying. The child grasped for the string, which was already out of reach for him. Katsuki jumped to grab the string, but it slipped from his fingers which were still sweaty from before. He cursed, backing up and hoping to gain more leverage.

Before Katsuki could jump again, a pair of wings crossed his field of vision. When he blinked, Eijirou was on the ground with the balloon in his hand. His vest was tossed to the side, leaving a man shirtless in the street with a balloon in hand, and a smile of sharp teeth.

He put a finger to his lips. “Kota-kun, don’t tell anyone you saw that okay?” Eijirou bent down, and gave the balloon back to Kota.

“Pretty...” the child whispered. Katsuki watched the child stare intently into Eijirou’s eyes, which radiated onto his cheeks. The beautiful gold had returned to the dragon's eyes, but slowly faded.

“You promise you won’t tell anyone?” Eijirou asked again.

Kota nodded, still fascinated with whatever creature stood before him. “Promise!”

***

The last purchase the pair made was a candlestick and saucer for the walk home. They didn’t share much conversation on the way back to the glade. Eijirou kept on asking if he could bring out his wings and fly back, since walking was really tiring, but Katsuki had already given him a heavy scolding from his stupid, past actions.

The Wyrm Forest felt much denser at night, as if the canopies closed in without the sun. It was eerily quiet, only the sounds of cicadas filling the air.

“Are you sure we won’t be attacked?” Eijirou asked for the nth time. “I swear this forest gets creepier at night.”

Katsuki groaned. “I already told you Shitty Hair, wyrms don’t attack unless they feel threatened! And considering how big they are, that isn’t very often! Unless you go around poking a stick at them or some crap, they won’t attack you. They’re your cousins y’know. They’re smart.”

Still jittery, Eijirou gave a hesitant nod. “How do you make this journey so often? It’s so long,” the dragon whined.

“Ya get used to it. Why? Not strong enough to do it? Need me to carry your lazy ass?” Katsuki jeered. He bent over, as if inviting the dragon for a piggy-back-ride.

“Really?” Eijirou played along. He grabbed Katsuki’s shoulders and almost jumped up onto his back, but the boy ran ahead, laughing.

Katsuki was the one holding the candle, but Eijirou needed neither light nor warmth. His glowing eyes provided enough light for him to see, and as a fire dragon, he could certainly regulate his body temperature. Katsuki found it almost frustrating how magical Eijirou really was. Every component of him worked off of, and in turn, exuded mana.

“You wanted to know why my wing got torn, yeah?” Eijirou broke the momentary silence.

Katsuki nodded rather shamelessly. His childlike curiousity took over from the main point he was trying to make.

“The truth is that, well, I got too close to a group of travelling humans. They were hunting some egg or something. I was fascinated by their carriages, and the way they had enchanted their swords. I wanted to see humans do what they do best: make things happen.” Eijirou’s eyes flashed a brighter orange. “But they must’ve had some ranger or someone else hiding where I couldn’t see, or even hear!

“Before I knew it, I was being fired at. I couldn’t properly protect myself without jeopardizing all dragons as a whole. I tried to fly away, but as I began to flap my wings, they must’ve shot some explosive projectile or maybe some magic but whatever it was, it tore my wing.”

The two broke through the forest wall, entering Katsuki’s glade. He watched as the form beside him fell onto all fours, the skin and hair stretching and slipping off. It was sickening to watch Eijirou's eyes roll back into his head, and his nails growing abnormally long. He struggled to get off his vest and pants while scales enveloped his entire body, which was now four times the size of Katsuki. The dragon took a step forward. His body mass was finally big enough to shake the ground. His sharp teeth simply grew in size, and a second row sprouted up behind the first. Finally, with a shake of his head Eijirou returned to his full form and his eyes slid back, fiery orange.

“That was horrifying what the fuck. Doesn’t it hurt?”

Eijirou nodded. “A bit. It hurts more to go the other way though. Anyways, after my wing was shot, I set some nearby trees on fire and ran until I reached the North Mountains. Stayed up there for a few days but that damn Cherufe was so infuriating I left. That’s when I got to the forest, and I met you soon after.”

“Huh, you’d think dragons could heal faster,” Katsuki mentioned.

“Man, I wish!” Eijirou exclaimed. “It’s because we’re so reliant on magic, and so huge that it takes a long time to heal stuff. We can take lots of blows, but it usually requires a year to recover from a full fight. Well, then again, a year isn’t worth much to a dragon.”

“Why do you still like humans if they’re trying to kill you all the time?”

“You’re not trying to kill me,” Eijirou said. Katsuki glared. “Okay, okay. To be honest, I don’t even know. But everything you li’l guys do is so fascinating. You’ve built castles and churches larger than even some of the biggest dragons! By yourselves too! And the paintings, or songs, or the way you live your lives is so odd, but always so interesting.”

“So, you’re just a fuckin’ nerd,” Katsuki concluded.

Eijirou snorted, “Sure.”

Katsuki stopped at the door to his hut. He looked the dragon in the eye, and hardened his expression. “I’m definitely gonna do it. I’ll create a kingdom where I’m the king, and there’s gonna be dragons everywhere. You and I will be sitting on a massive pile of gold.”

Eijirou’s amber eyes shone, and the dragon gave a massive, toothy grin. He nodded, nudging Katsuki with his snout. With the silent exchange, Katsuki watched the dragon walked away to hide himself in the woods to sleep.

Katsuki dreamed of flying in the sky. He couldn’t tell if it was from his own abilities, or another force, but beside him was Eijirou. Instead of a dragon, it was his human form with wings sprouting from his back. The sky was a clear blue. The boy knew it was a dream. Eijirou wouldn’t fly so freely when he could be spotted, but Katsuki wanted to stay in the moment a little longer.

But the Eijirou in his dreams was too one-dimensional. Sure, the dragon’s laugh was pleasant to the ears – almost addicting – but it was the only thing that dream-Eijirou could do. There was no banter, and no matter how hard he tried, Katsuki couldn’t say a word. Possibly the worst element was the distance between them. Katsuki couldn’t move closer to the dragon at all.

Slowly, the form began to fall, like he’d seen earlier. His skin dripped off, like candle wax and fell to the earth. Underneath the layer of skin was unnervingly slimy scales. Even with the sounds of his bones cracking, and eyes rolling back and forth, the dragon was still laughing. The sound became distorted, low and then high frequencies replacing the once beautiful laughter.

Eijirou fully turned to Katsuki, revealing the blood on the side of his face, hemorrhaging from a chunk taken off his head. Bits of bone were visible, and the blood slowly turned to scales on his face, locking the dragon’s despairing expression in place.

He woke up in a sweat. Katsuki took a moment to regulate his breathing, hoping his heart would slow down with it.

“Bakugou.”

The boy screamed, nearly jumping out of his bed. He turned to see Eijirou in his human form, with the same expression on his face that Katsuki had seen in the dream, minus the blood.

Eijirou looked ready to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better guest here. A better man. I’m so sorry,” he whispered it, speaking quickly.

Katsuki stood up. “What do you mean? The hell’s going on? Were you attacked?”

Eijirou pursed his lips, which were trembling. “Not yet. I was too careless in town, I know they’re coming I can feel it, I can hear it. They’ll come here eventually.”

“No—”

“I have to leave. I can’t put my family in danger anymore.” His eyes were a bland maroon. “I’m sorry,” he said it again. Katsuki could see light out his window. The sun hadn’t lifted into the sky. No, it was torches, and with torches came humans.

“I know it’s selfish to leave you here in danger. I’m so sorry, I’ll try to throw them off somehow but—”

“You’re damn right it’s selfish,” Katsuki growled. His hands were getting sweaty again, but this time with anger. “You’re just gonna go? As if nothing ever happened? I can’t believe that you’re just abandoning me! If you were so worried about this why didn’t you tell me earlier!?” He felt his heart beat faster with every demand.

“I didn’t want to worry you! You’re too headstrong, you’d try to fight that entire town if I told you. I’m leaving,” the dragon declared.

“So, what!? I told you, I said it myself I would fight every damn person on this continent if it meant that you could fly freely.” Katsuki grasped Eijirou’s arm, feeling the unnatural heat emanating from it.

Eijirou smiled sadly. “I know you would. And I know you can definitely do it, but not now. Now isn’t the time.”

Katsuki almost screamed. “Then when is the time!? Huh?”

Eijirou began backing out of the hut. “I’m sorry,” he said again. The boy followed him, grabbing his sword in case he did need to fight.

The dragon broke out into a run, letting his wings form, but they were stuffed into his vest. Katsuki ran after him, putting every ounce of energy he could into chasing down the Eijirou. “Wait!” he cried. “You’re definitely coming back, right?”

Eijirou stopped and turned. He seemed to wipe a tear from his eye. “I will. I promise I’ll come back.”

“When?” Katsuki begged.

“Soon.”

“How soon is that!?” his voice broke. He cracked on the last word, some foreign feeling filling his throat. Katsuki wanted to blow something up, he wanted to destroy whatever awful thing was tearing at his heart right now.

The dragon’s eyes reflected light that wasn’t his. The people were drawing closer to the glade. Even though they couldn’t hear him from across the field, Eijirou still lowered his voice. “I don’t really know. It could be months, it could be years.”

Katsuki seemed to whimper at the response. “So...you’re really going? Just like that? If you could stay, we could lie, or fight them off. Don’t just leave you asshole,” he matched Eijirou’s volume.

Eijirou nodded. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a smoothed claw. “This is... actually really weird and mildly disgusting if you think about it but...I didn’t want to leave everything behind, and I selfishly wanted you to remember me, even just a bit.” Eijirou held the orange claw in his hand, which gleamed under the moonlight.

“I made this quickly. It’s one of my claws but it’s smaller for obvious reasons.” He placed it in Katsuki’s hand.

“Magic?” the boy guessed. Eijirou nodded. “Yeah it’s sort of disgusting,” Katsuki agreed. “Like, really disgusting. I could’ve gone without the fucking details.”

Eijirou laughed. He pulled out another claw that was similar to the one Katsuki was given. Holding his empty hand above both of the claws, he casted a small light upon them. “It’s a weak sort of tracking. This is the best I can do to keep you and I safe,” he explained. “It’ll grow warmer the closer we are to each other. I’ll definitely find you again.”

Katsuki bit his lip, trying to compose himself. “Okay.” He nodded. “Okay, you better find me again, you lazy asshole.”

Eijirou leaned in, touching his forehead to Katsuki’s. Neither of them could say a word. Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to give a proper farewell. The boy wanted to grab Eijirou and force him to stay. Maybe he could tie him down, or barter with the nymphs to protect him. Though, Katsuki knew that none of those were the best option for the dragon. Eijirou would have to leave.

He felt the heat leave his forehead. Katsuki watched the dragon give him one last, toothy smile before flying off into the night. Katsuki could only follow his figure until he reached the clouds, where only a wisp of Eijirou was left.

The claw in his hand was cold.

Turning to face the torches, Katsuki could make out a horde of people. They carried pitchforks, weapons, and hatred. They were angry. They were envious. The boy couldn’t help but scream, let the sound know exactly what he intended to do.

He made his promise, and he was going to keep it. Katsuki was going to build his throne of gold, sit upon it, and create a kingdom. Once he did, his dragon would surely return to him.

ahhHH the plot continues to move~ in case you haven't noticed it, these two are about 4 years in the past from the others in their timeline. after this chapter, everyone will be in the same time. hope that isn't too confusing!!  thanks for reading ;;; if u have any comments or wanna let me know u liked it!! the like button!!!! i sound like a bad youtuber okay thank u!!!

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#my writing #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #bnha fantasy au #kirishima x bakugou #boku no hero academia fantasy au #dragon!kirishima #midoriya izuku #izumi kota #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #oh no the next chapters will have so many character tags hhhnnggg #but ayyy slap that like button babes

[rosalindsutton]

apologies and new feelings | ritz ft. anolai

fitz and rosalind say sorry. they meet ana. fitz asks rosie on a date. 

Rosalind still felt bad for losing control with Fitz before. He really stressed her out a ridiculous amount. She had managed to compose herself shortly after he left, and now knew she had to make a bigger effort to keep herself composed when she was around him. She realized that him thinking about her like that could mean he maybe liked her, too, but she was pretty sure he had just gotten wrapped up in the moment. She wanted to keep spending time with him, though, as she'd grown to really enjoy his company. She had a sneaking suspicion he'd be at the bar, so she apparated there to look around for him. She found him at a table and went to sit with him. "This seat taken?" she asked with a smile.

Fitz didn't really know what to make of what had happened with Rosie. He'd really thought that things were going well. He'd had a feeling that maybe she had more than friendly thoughts for him but once she'd noticed he had them for her she'd sort of shut down. He hadn't meant to be so inappropriate but in his defense, he was only thinking about it. She wouldn't have known if she hadn't looked into his head. He let out a sigh as he sat at the bar, swirling his drink in his glass before taking a sip. He'd been people watching for the most part as he waited for Dom's shift to start. Rosie appearing took him by surprise, though. "Hm? Oh, no it's not. You can sit if you'd like."

Rosalind could tell she surprised him, but slid into the seat next to him anyway. "Thank you," she smiled. "Are you watching muggles again, or are you here for something else?" she asked curiously. She needed to go get herself a drink in a moment, but for the time being, the two of them could just chat. She hoped he wasn't too upset or bothered or irritated with her.

Fitz hadn't thought Rosie would want to sit with him after the way things had ended the last time they'd seen each other. "I'm watching muggles for the most part. I was actually playing a game of deciding who was a muggle and who wasn't. It's surprisingly easy. If they don't have one of those phones, they're likely a wizard," he explained with a smile. "And I was waiting for Dom's shift to start but I don't actually know if he's working tonight."

Rosalind laughed quietly. "What a funny give away. Sometimes I feel like we're behind them, but I don't know I actually want one of those phones. They just seem so into them," she said with a shrug and a smile. She nodded a bit, trying to remember if he was supposed to be in tonight. "I'm not sure. I think he maybe is? But maybe later," she said, though she honestly wasn't sure.

Fitz didn't think he'd be able to understand a phone very well at all. They seemed too small to be so complex. "They don't make much sense. Dom has tried explaining them and I saw that Nik has one now but I don't want one," he agreed with her. "It seems to take up all of their time. Even when they're sitting with someone else, they're never really looking at each other. Just the phones. What kind of a life is that?" he wondered. "Oh well. If I don't see him tonight I'll see him tomorrow, I'm sure. He's easy to find."

Rosalind had to agree with that. She knew that magic things could be consuming, too, but she didn't think it was the same. "It's a bit complicated, honestly. I don't know. I mean, they obviously like them, and find use for them too, but I feel like I'm okay without one," she said with a shrug and a smile. "I don't know," she added, looking over him for a moment. She couldn't imagine hanging out with him and not admiring his beautiful face. "That he is. Have you been busy?"

Fitz still thought they seemed a bit superfluous. Maybe if he understood them better he would want one but he wasn't sure. He didn't like the idea of looking at a little box all day long. "I think if we've made it this long without use for one then we definitely don't need to convert to them," he smiled. He liked having conversations face to face, anyway. Or at least with letters which seemed personal. "Oh, no more so than usual. I've just been working," he explained. "And yourself?"

Rosalind agreed there, too. She was sure that there was use for new things, and maybe overtime they would get worked into wizard society, but for the time being, she just didn't need it. "I agree," she smiled. "The same, mostly. I visited my mum recently, which was nice. Not at her work, too," she added with a chuckle. "I feel like I rarely see her at home, anymore, which is a shame, because I love that place."

Fitz thought that was interesting. He smiled at her as she spoke, really taking her in. Things had changed recently in how he felt about her. He'd thought they'd changed for her as well, that she felt something for him, but with her reaction the other day still fresh in his mind he was unsure. "You should go home and visit her more often. I'm sure she'd enjoy that. And you would as well. It must have been nice to see where you grew up," he said with a smile.

Rosalind nodded in agreement. She really should. "I know. I think I mean to, but then she's so much closer here in town," she laughed a bit. "But when I go home she makes me tea and it's somehow different," she said with another laugh. She got to walk around and go in her old room, which was all lovely, too. "Plus, she has a lovely garden, and she always sends me home with things, even though I have one, too," she added.

Fitz figured that made sense. "And you get the pastries when you visit her at the bakery," he said with a smile. "That must be a bonus to visit her there if I've ever heard one." He wondered what it'd be like if he went home for a visit. He doubted he'd get a cup of tea. "It sounds like you had a lovely visit with her. I quite like your mother, she was very kind to me," he said with a smile. "What did she give you today?" he asked curiously.

Rosalind laughed quietly and nodded. "I do. She likes to spoil us," she said honestly. She nodded along. It was a lovely visit. She had a wonderful time chatting with her mum. "My mum quite likes you. She's kind to you because you're great," she smiled. "She gave me a flower and some carrots," she said with a small smile. "Most of the good food is out of season now," she said with a laugh.

Fitz smiled at her when she laughed. He grew fonder of the sound every day. "That's sweet of her." His words were genuine. He chuckled a bit and shrugged a shoulder. "I'm glad she likes me. That's all I wanted," he admitted. He'd been a bit nervous that she wouldn't. "What kind of flower did she give you?" He hummed thoughtfully, having not known that. "That makes sense. Do you like carrots?"

Rosalind nodded, still smiling about her mum. "She's a rather sweet lady," she agreed. "Honest, why wouldn't she like you?" she asked with a small laugh. He was a likable person, and it wasn't particularly common that her mum disliked someone. "It's called a Little Carlow. It's pretty and purple," she said with a smile. "Well, yeah. But they aren't nearly as good as strawberries," she chuckled.

Fitz liked the idea of Rosie's family as a whole. He liked how much they loved and cared for each other. It was a different kind of magic, one he didn't think he'd ever understand. "Not everyone likes me," he teased with a grin. "Little Carlow," he repeated. "It sounds pretty." He chuckled a little bit when she said carrots weren't as good as strawberries. "Vegetables often aren't as good as fruit," he agreed. "But you could make a stew or something."

Rosalind shrugged, still smiling. She took a small sip from her glass. "I can't think of a reason not to like you," she said honestly. "It's nice. Very simple and cute," she added with another smile. She laughed quietly when he did. "It's a shame, really," she laughed. She nodded a bit. "Yeah, I probably will. They also make for a nice, easy snack. Well, I cut them small, and then they do," she added.

Fitz rested his chin on his hand as he looked at her. "I can think of a few," he mused. "I'd like to see it sometime if that's alright," he smiled. He still wasn't sure where they stood after their last encounter. "Oh, sure. They do make a nice snack," he agreed. "You could take them to work with you for lunch," he suggested. He paused for a moment, considering her. "Rosalind... are you upset with me?"

Rosalind honestly couldn't think of a single one. Maybe that he stressed her out and made her stomach ache, but that was hardly his fault. Anyway, she sort of liked the butterflies. "Sure, yeah. I can show you my whole little garden," she smiled. She liked doing that. It was easy to just eat them and not really think. "Good idea," she smiled. She frowned a bit in concern when he used her full name, frowning further at his question. "No, not at all. Why?"

Fitz thought that sounded nice. He'd like to see her garden as he thought it would offer more insight into her as a person. He liked learning about her. He wanted to know everything and he thought knowing the plants she kept would tell him something. "I'd like that." He shrugged a bit, suddenly a bit unsure and looked down at his glass that had been empty for some time now. "I was out of line the other day and I feel like I've upset you. It wasn't my intent. I apologize."

Rosalind felt all flustered again, but waved a hand and smiled. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. I was way out of line, myself, and you didn't upset me. Overwhelm me, yes, but not upset me," she said with a smile. "I'm really, sorry, too," she added. She felt bad that he thought she was upset with him, but she understood how he had reached that conclusion. She had had a pretty big reaction.

Fitz wasn't quite sure if he believed her or not. He knew he shouldn't have overstepped his boundaries the way that he had but he simply had been unable to contain himself. He was drawn to her in a way he couldn't explain. "It was my fault," he insisted. "I tend to not think before I act. Though, really, my thinking got me in trouble this time," he admitted sheepishly. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm truly sorry for what I did. I shouldn't have done it."

Rosalind blushed a bit, but smiled at him. "It's okay. You caught me off guard, and it threw off my focus. That's all. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did," she said honestly. "It's really okay Fitz. I promise," she said with a smile. She finished off her drink, setting it down. "Do you want another one? I'm going to go get another one," she said honestly.

Fitz still felt bad about the whole thing. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way. He just wanted... well, he wasn't entirely sure. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable," he said quietly. "Your reaction was justified." He nodded a bit when she seemed okay with it but he still was a bit nervous. "Oh, sure. I could use another drink," he said with a smile.

Rosalind shook her head a bit. She hadn't really been uncomfortable, just flustered. She didn't really know how to explain it to him without just spilling everything. "Don't worry about it, okay?" she promised. "I'll go get you one, too," she said, smiling at him. She stood up, grabbing both of their glasses. As she walked away, she put the image of her kissing him in his head. Hopefully that could better explain what she meant, since her words were failing her.

Fitz nodded a bit. He'd trust her at her word. He didn't think she'd lie to him. At least, he sincerely hoped that she wouldn't. And in any case, she could stand up for herself if he did make her uncomfortable. "Okay," he agreed. "Thank you, love," he smiled. He watched her walking away when suddenly he could clearly see himself kissing her. The image took his breath away and he treasured it for a fleeting moment before it was gone. Now he wanted more than ever to know what it felt like to kiss her.

Rosalind smiled and nodded. "Of course," she smiled. She got his drink, and a new one for herself, and took a sip before she carried them back to their table. She set his down, then set her own down. She hoped he understood that she hadn't been upset with him now. She just didn't know how to say things to him. She was pretty sure she could never get the words out to tell him she liked him so much. She was still waiting for it to just go away, honestly. "So, any plans for the rest of your week?"

Fitz took his drink when she set it down. His mind was whirling with thoughts and he kept an interested look on his face. For once, he found himself at a loss for what to say. He just watched her for a minute before her question registered with him. "Pardon? Oh, the usual. Work mostly." He nodded a bit, taking a sip before realizing he hadn't returned the question. "What about you? Are you busy this week?" He wanted to ask her to do something but for some reason the words weren't coming to him.

Rosalind raised an eyebrow slightly at the way he seemed distracted. She smiled a bit when he spoke again, nodding. "Yeah, work sure is time consuming, isn't it?" she agreed. She smiled a bit and nodded. "Mostly the same. It shouldn't be any busier than usual. I feel like it might be tiring though. I don't know why. Just a vibe I get," she said honestly.

Fitz nodded a bit, though his head was a bit clouded with thoughts. "It is. The season goes into full swing soon and we're profiling the players for England's team for the Cup. I get my assignment tomorrow," he explained. He nodded a bit and took a long sip of his drink. He didn't know why he was so nervous. "Do you want to go to dinner with me then? This week? If it isn't too busy for you?"

Nikolai had been waiting for Anastasia to show up at the bar for a bit. His shift had ended but he'd stuck around the bar for a few minutes, mostly watching Fitz and Rosie talking. They were spending an awful lot of time together. He decided to walk over and say hello, deciding that he could introduce Ana to them once she came in. "Hey guys. What's going on?" he asked with a smile.

Rosalind thought his work was about to pick up an awful lot. She wouldn't see him around as much, she bet. "Oh, that sounds exciting. Any chance you'll get Dot?" she asked with a small smile. She was about to answer him when Nik came over, and she didn't think fast enough to respond to him. Of course she wanted to go to dinner with him. She'd have to find a way to let him know later. "Hey! I thought you'd be long gone by now. What're you still doing here?" she asked, smiling back at him.

Anastasia was running a bit late, or at least, later than she preferred, but she hoped Nik wouldn't be too upset. She stepped into the bar, brushing her ear behind her hair and straightening out her clothes. She looked around, spotting Nik over with two others. The girl looked like she could be his sister. Maybe that was her. She waited for a moment so they could finish whatever they were saying, before going over and putting a hand on Nik's shoulder. "Hey," she smiled.

Fitz shrugged slightly. He wasn't sure. "It's likely I might because I have a friendship with her already. I really hope I can," he smiled. He waited, feeling a twist of nerves in his stomach as he waited for her answer. And then Nikolai appeared. He glanced up at him, fixing his regular smile on his lips. He waited while the two talked but then his attention was on the girl who had appeared beside Nik. "Oh, and who is this?" he asked with a charming grin.

Nikolai grinned at his sister and gave a half shrug. "I decided to stick around a bit. I'm waiting for someone but I thought I'd come and say hi to you two first. You look cozy," he grinned. He looked over when he felt a hand and smiled at Ana, moving his arm to wrap around her waist. "Hello love. This is my sister, Rosalind and our friend Fitz," he told her. "And this is Ana," he answered Fitz's question with a laugh.

Rosalind thought it would be nice if he could work with Dot. That would be nice for the both of them, really. She nodded a bit as he explained. She decided to ignore his comment about them looking cozy. "Just come over to say hi?" she asked with a smile. When Ana joined him, she smiled a bit. Ah, he wasn't just coming over to say hi. She really felt Nikolai deserved the best, and from what she heard, Ana made the mark. "Hi, nice to meet you. I've heard loads about you," she smiled, standing up and giving Ana a half hug.

Anastasia smiled when Nik wrapped an arm around her. She thought his sister and friend looked sweet. She laughed quietly when his friend asked about her. She hugged Ana back. She was sweet. "Pleasure is all mine. I've heard quite a bit about you, as well. Nik speaks fondly of you," she said with a smile. She smiled a bit at Fitz. "I've heard about you, too. I hear you ask a lot of questions," she teased. "You haven't proven Nik wrong yet."

Fitz thought it was nice to see the way Nik slid his arm around this Ana girl. He wasn't quite sure who she was, as he hadn't heard her name before but Rosie seemed to know who she was. "Oh? You've heard about me?" he asked with a smile. "I do ask a lot of questions," he admitted. "It's lovely to meet you, Ana," he said, standing up and reaching out to take her hand and kiss it. "What is it that you do?"

Nikolai shrugged slightly with another grin. He kept his arm around Ana, though he loosened it slightly when she hugged his sister. He watched the way she interacted so seamlessly with his sister and Fitz and thought that there was really something special about her. "Well, she is my favorite sister," he teased. He laughed a bit at Fitz before rolling his eyes. "Alright, knock it off," he said, tugging Ana closer to him and away from Fitz playfully.

Rosalind smiled sweetly at Nik. "Aw, you speak fondly of me. How cute," she grinned. She rolled her eyes when he teased back. "I'm your only sister! Twerp. You're a real pain," she said playfully. She laughed quietly when Nik got all possessive. "Oh yes, what do you do?" she asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew. She couldn't believe Nik was dating a muggle. How mum and dad of him.

Anastasia thought it was cute how Nik was with his friends. She sure did like everything about him. "So I've noticed," she teased. "It's lovely to meet you as well, Fitz," she smiled. She laughed a bit when he kissed her hand, laughing harder when Nik pulled her closer. "It's just the French in him," she teased Nik. "I'm a dancer. And dance instructor. What do you both do?"

Fitz chuckled a bit at the exchange between the two siblings. He liked their dynamic. They were so fun and playful with each other. It was nice to see. "Ah, see, she gets my charm," he said with a smile. He raised an eyebrow slightly as she spoke about her jobs and then glanced at Rosalind before catching Nik's eye. "Oh, well. I'm a journalist," he said simply. He had a feeling she was a muggle.

Nikolai rolled his eyes slightly at Rosie but he was grinning. "You're still my favorite sister," he grinned. "You're the pain." His grip on Ana stayed firm even with everyone laughing at him. "He's trouble, that Fitz," he teased. He waited while she spoke about her job and gave Rosie a look before shooting it at Fitz, knowing he didn't know about her being a muggle. He only hoped that Fitz picked up on the clues.

Rosalind rolled her eyes, shaking her head. What a pain. "She's much nicer than you," she said playfully. "Oh, that sounds like fun! What kind of dance do you do?" she asked curiously. She already knew she was a muggle, she didn't need the nudge. "I'm a police officer," she said with a small smile. "Do you two have plans for the night or are you just hanging out here?"

Anastasia had really enjoyed everyone she'd been introduced to. She needed to introduce him to her brother. "I do a bit of everything. Lots of ballet. I like the more contemporary sort of stuff, but I don't do that as much," she explained. "What kind of journalism?" she asked curiously. She laughed a little when she said she was a police officer. "Really? You don't strike me as such," she said honestly. "I think we have plans, right?" she asked, turning to Nik a bit.

Fitz found everything about this to be delightful. "Ballet? You do ballet? Is that your favorite form? How long have you been dancing?" he wondered. "Oh just qui," he cut himself off with a cough. "Excuse me. Quick reviews of games, player profiles. Who has the best odds that season." He glanced over at Rosie when she answered and said she was a police officer and picked up his drink to hide a smile. "Oh, leaving so soon?" he asked. "Oh, I see."

Nikolai shot a glare at Fitz when he heard him start to say quidditch. Luckily the slip up had been easily fixed. He rubbed his fingers over Ana's side as she spoke to his friends and smiled a bit. "She looks too sweet to be one but she's one of the best," he grinned. He turned to Ana again with a smile. "We do have plans but we can wait if you want to stick around a little longer but we do have a reservation," he said with a shrug. "It's up to you if you want to stick around or head out."

Rosalind wasn't surprised Ana didn't think she looked like a police officer. She felt like auror made more sense, but it was hard to explain how there was a difference when she knew it was the muggle equivalent. "I do my best," she said simply, in response to Nik. "Dancing must be a lot of fun. Maybe we can see you sometime?" she half suggested, half asked. "Oh, go, go. Don't let us hold you back," she said softly.

Anastasia nodded, the smile unwavering on her face. "Yes! Mm, I think it might be. I really do love it. I've been dancing since I was about three. My mum is a ballerina, too. I think she sort of encouraged it, but it all worked out," she smiled. "I'm sure you're even better than you let on," she said to Rosie. "Well, we shouldn't miss the reservation. Do we have time to chat a bit more?"

Fitz listened carefully as Ana went on, a fresh wheel of questions spinning in his head. "Since you were three? That's quite some time. Though you can't be more than twenty, surely. Have you ever done anything else aside from dance?" he wondered. He waited a bit, looking to Nik to answer the question. "Oh, then please, sit down with us." He'd just have to ask Rosie on a date later. If he got up the nerve again.

Nikolai couldn't keep the smile off of his face. Rosie seemed to really like Ana and Ana seemed to really like his friends. He couldn't be luckier. "She's an amazing dancing. She taught me a few steps. I'm practically a professional," he teased. "Rosie's very good at what she does. She's one of the best." He weighed his options. On one hand, he wanted Rosie and Ana to bond but on the other, Fitz was a wild card. "We have a few minutes. We can sit."

Rosalind thought that sounded like something. She was had been dancing since she was three? She hadn't been doing anything for that long. "Wow. You must really be incredible," she said honestly. "She taught you? That's something I want to see," she said with a small laugh. She smiled a bit at Nik, but waved a hand. "Sit, sit," she said, moving over to make room for them.

Anastasia nodded, amused by their amazement. "Mm, yes. I'm twenty-one, so close. I did go to primary and secondary school, and I teach dance a bit now, but for the most part not really. I think I'm quite good," she said with a laugh. She sat down after Nik agreed, sitting next to Rosie. "When did you move to London, then?" she asked Fitz.

Fitz didn't know much about dance but he thought being committed to something for so long had to mean she was rather talented. "I think I'd like to see that as well," he grinned. "That's very impressive, though, Ana." He shifted so Nik could sit by him and took a drink of his beverage. "Oh, I think it's been about a year now. You have better football teams here." That was the sport, right? He was fairly certain he'd said it right. "Did you grow up here?"

Nikolai grinned at his friends. "Maybe one of these days I'll show you but not today. We're in a bar, no one's dancing. It's far too fancy for a place like this," he teased. He let go of Ana so she could sit down and took the spot next to Fitz. His hand went over the table, letting his fingers link with Ana's so they were still touching. "It was a year. Dot brought you in and we couldn't get rid of you."

Rosalind raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly at Nik. "Sounds like an excuse to not embarrass yourself at work, but okay," she teased. She made room for Ana, letting her sit next to her. "You're lucky you're getting the abridged versions of his questions tonight," she said, teasing Fitz lightly. She nodded a bit as she talked. "Oh, that's cool. What is LVMH though?" she asked curiously, hoping she didn't sound really stupid.

Anastasia could dance in any space, really, but she wasn't gonna make Nik dance. She hadn't really taught him that much, anyway. She linked her fingers with his, smiling softly. "That's kind of a while. How do you like it?" she asked him. "Oh, really? I'm sure sometime he'll ask me all his questions then," she said with a laugh. "I did. But I've traveled quite a bit with my parents. My grandfather owns LVMH which is located in Paris, so we used to go there a lot. I mean, my parents still do, but I typically only go for events now."

Fitz thought it was rather interesting that Nik was dating a muggle but he decided he liked this girl. He had so many questions on the tip of his tongue just begging to be asked but he knew better. "I'm trying not to scare her off," he told Rosie. "I like it. It's a good country. And I've made the best friends of my life here," he smiled. He had no idea what LVMH was and was about to ask when Rosie beat him to it. "Do you like Paris? When was the last time you were there?" he wondered.

Nikolai rolled his eyes at his sister. "More like I don't want to cause a scene. And it's not just the place where I work, I do own this establishment," he teased. "I have to set a standard for my employees. What's next? Dom starts dancing between tables? No one wants to see that," he said playfully. "It's fashion, obviously. Ana goes to a lot of shows and the like. It's really impressive. She said she'd take me to one," he said matter-of-factly. "That's why she always looks amazing."

Rosalind laughed a bit at her brother. "Excuses, excuses. However, I for one would love to see Dom dancing between tables," she said playfully. She laughed again when Fitz said he was trying not to scare her off. She knew, of course, that it was just the magic-muggle barrier, but that would go away eventually. She felt her eyebrows go up a bit. She was super curious. "Wow, so he owns fashion companies?" she asked. That seemed intense. "Wow, that's cool. No wonder you're so fashionable," she laughed.

Anastasia smiled at Nik, squeezing his fingers lightly. She thought he would be cute, dancing in his bar, but she didn't push. She could make him dance with her in the bar on a different day. "Don't worry, I think it'll take a lot more than questions to scare me off," she teased. "That's wonderful. I've always loved London," she smiled. "I do like Paris, yes. I was there early March. It's quite a beautiful city," she smiled. "Look at you, knowing all my stuff," she smiled proudly. "It is fashion, among other things. My grandfather also owns Dior, so fashion season is a big time. I'm actually missing fashion week right now, but my parents are there so." She nodded a bit. "Yeah, I mean, I think it's not as like clear cut as he owns it like Nik owning the bar, because it's really complex and old, but yeah, basically. He's in charge of both of them."

Fitz smiled brightly. "Well, I do ask a lot of questions," he warned her. "Nik here gets fed up of me and sends me off to talk to Dom," he chuckled. "It is a beautiful city. I miss it," he admitted. He'd love to go back for a visit but he didn't think that was possible yet. "Oh, fashion? That's interesting. I know the fashion scene in Paris is quite impressive." He didn't, really, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Perhaps Simone knew more. "Oh, why didn't you go?" he wondered. He nodded a little as she went on but didn't have much else to say or ask.

Nikolai squeezed Ana's fingers back. He liked this. He liked showing off their relationship to his friends. It was nice. "That's because you ask too many while I'm working," he told Fitz. "I can't focus on doing my job and answering all of your questions." He watched his friends interact with his girl and smiled to himself. This was going so much better than he'd expected it to. Not that he'd thought Rosie would be a problem but Fitz was keeping his curiosities at bay. "Of course I know your stuff. I listen," he teased. "Oh, you could have gone to fashion week." He hoped she hadn't skipped because of him.

Rosalind thought that was all sort of confusing, but it sounded fun. And she suspected she had quite a bit of money. She looked it. And she knew it could be expensive for muggles to travel. It could be expensive for wizards, too. "That all sounds very exciting," she said honestly. "Maybe you can go next time then. It sounds like fun. I've never been, so I can't say for sure, but it sounds nice," she smiled. She wasn't big on fashion, either, but maybe she could be. "Oh, you guys better get going. You're going to miss your reservations."

Anastasia gave Nik a look. "You send him off! How rude of you," she said playfully, laughing a bit. "You should visit sometime. I'm sure it's just as lovely as when you last left it. It's never gotten less lovely from visit to visit, at least from my experience," she said with a smile. "It is. It's a nice place to go for fashion," she said with a smile. "I know you do," she laughed. "I was going to, but I had a really big audition in the middle of the week and it didn't really work out. Anyway, now I'm here meeting you two, so I think it worked out well," she smiled.

Fitz thought that was interesting. He wanted to go back to Paris but it just wasn't time. It was nice to hear that it hadn't changed, though. The place was far too pretty for that. "I will. At some point," he promised. He nodded along as the conversation continued, trying his best to keep all of his questions at bay. He had so much he wanted to know. He just couldn't ask yet. "Oh, it was lovely to meet you, Anastasia," he said with a smile. "Don't be a stranger. And don't let Nik hog you."

Nikolai rolled his eyes playfully. "I don't have time to explain how beer taps work when we're in the middle of a rush!" he chuckled. He listened to her tell them all about fashion and wondered if they were as confused as he had been. He'd have to ask Rosie later. "Oh, well, when was the audition? How'd it go?" he asked. He was sounding like Fitz with all his questions. "Oh Merlin, I nearly forgot. We better head out," he said, sliding out of the booth. "I'll see you guys later."

Rosalind smiled when she said it was in two days. "Good luck! I'm sure you'll get it, whatever it is," she said with a smile. She stood up, hugging Ana and sort of kissing her cheek. "I'm so happy to have finally met you. We'll have to do something sometime," she said with a smile. She nearly laughed when Nik said Merlin, but thankfully kept it to herself. "Have a lovely night!" she said. She finished off her drink, setting the empty glass on the table. "I should probably be going, too," she said honestly. "Have a good night, Fitz," she smiled. She started to leave, but turned around and smiled at him. "Oh, and, I would love to have dinner with you," she smiled, turning away to leave.

Anastasia thought Nik and his friends were cute. She liked the way they interacted. She could really tell he was the baby sometimes. "It's in two days. I'll let you know," she grinned. She frowned briefly. Merlin. Who said that? Man he was weird sometimes. It was a wonder she was still seeing him. "Oh, we better go then. It was lovely to meet you, too, Fitz. And it was lovely to meet you, Rosalind. You're quite delightful," she smiled. "I won't let him hog me, don't worry," she laughed. "Have a good night," she said to them, taking Nik's hand. "Did you want to get a taxi?"

Fitz watched Nik and Ana leave, thinking they were cute. It was strange that he was dating a muggle but not in a bad way. He'd just expected something like that to happen with Dom. He was obsessed with muggles, after all. He was about to voice that opinion to Rosalind when she suddenly announced she had to leave. "Oh. So soon?" he frowned. "Alright. Have a good night." Her next words surprised him but a wide grin stretched across his face. "Sounds perfect then."

#8

[anunlikelypear]

«it is fun to go fully under the water though, don’t you think? Just sink down, close your eyes and mouth, and just feel the sensation? Knowing the world is mighty and could ruin you?» Pandora wondered out loud as they walked, eating their corndogs as they walked. Looking ariund. «If i want a prize, I will just buy the prize. Want a ring? Buy thr ring» that was the easiest way she could see to it. Shaking her head, Pandora was easily amused with him. «Even a round of drinks on me, hmm?» she asked, giving him a poke with her elbow. It was nice and chill to go with him. Even if he could be a dumbass. «Good to hear. I better not hear about you disappointing any ladies then Nikolaj»

Nikolaj considered that and slowly nodded. "True, that is nice," he finally agreed. "You must spend a lot of time in the bath then?" he teased and wiggled his eyebrows. Stop picturing her in the bath, Nik. Stop it. But they'd been on this topic too long, he couldn't help himself. "Fiiiine. But I still think that's not as fun as getting a prize," he said with a joking huff. "Hey! Go big or go home, right?" he laughed, that grin appearing on his face again. He was a dumbass, but an amusing one, for sure. "If you do, let me know, I will have to remedy that immediately. Can't have such black marks ruining my reputation now, can I?" He knew how word got around in this town and he did aim to please.

Previous discord replies in order under the cut. @lambxtoxslaughter​

Nikolaj

Nikolaj had asked the cute little brunette to join him at the carnival on a whim. Being the goof he is, of course she agreed, and they set a time to meet. He got an idea on a way to the place and convinced the food truck guy to make him a bouquet of corn dogs. He was holding them out as he waited and snickered at all the weird looks he got. This was nothing. "Panda!" He called out to get her attention, then held them out. "I hope you're hungry!" He sure was and they smelled so good.

Pandora

Had she planned to go? Nope. Demon blood and going? That was definitely not on her plans. Even if they were insisting on demon-born people being welcome and safe to go. But nope, she didn't trust any of it. And yet, she couldn't say no when she got invited. So she showed up where he'd told her to meet her, seeing the bouquet in his hands, only to break into laughter when she came closer. "I ate a late lunch, but sure. I can have one or two." She said with a shake of her head. "You will definitely have to help me finish eating it all though. Can't let it go to waste."

Nikolaj

Nikolaj grinned wider in response to her laugh and knew he'd nailed it. "Oh I can help. They definitely won't go to waste," he promised and handed her one. "Now, since you've never been before, I will show you all my favorite things. Let's start with the fire, so we can watch while we eat," he explained and offered her his arm. "I promised you an amazing time and you are going to get it." Those were the promises he loved to keep. "And if I don't, well, I have to do whatever you ask me to." Even if that meant dressing up like a baby downtown. His ego could handle it.

Pandora

She accepted the corn dog, biting into it as he began to talk about what they would be doing. Arm linking with arm, letting him guide her around. «Fire sounds good» the brunette answered, looking around as they moved. Huh maybe they should visit earth magic later, try out the challenge. That could be fun and interesting for sure. And the bruises? Speciality for sale. «Well damn, you really going to make that a challenge?» Pandora asked with a little laugh. «Because if you fail... how about we give you a very public ice bath?»

Nikolaj

Nikolaj adjusted the the rest of the corndogs in his hand so he could munch on the highest one as they walked. It was awkward, but he couldn't care less. "There is something exciting and irresistible like fire," he teased, waggling his eyebrows at her, and hoping she picks up on that horrible comparison. Yes, Nik, you are irresistible and exciting, too. Pet, pet, silly pup. "Hey! I never back down from a bet, you can go ahead and ask anyone," he replied confidently and gestured with his corndog full hand. He laughed at her suggestion and yelped. "As long as you don't judge... you know things shrink when they're cold," he added, both in jest, and well, it would be a confidence hit if she took one look at his junk and cracked up. He'd recover, but still.

Pandora

God, how had she ended up in this situation? Out with a Vasilyev, a werewolf even, and having agreed to go to the festival with him. Which was strange to her. But, she was happy to have good company with her, and he was good to hide behind if she needed it. "So you like fire, huh? I've always liked water. It's soothing, calming. Perfect to curl up in, with some bath bombs, you know?" She always loved that. Willingly ignoring any pick up lines. It was hard to actually get into Pandora's pants, sadly for the wolf. "Okay, so we're taking that as a bet. If I find today to be boring, and uneventful, you will ice bathe. If I find the day to be exciting... Then what?" She leaned up, giving him a little kiss to the cheek. "I will ignore your size when you're in the ice."

Nikolaj

"I do, I like water, too, but for different reasons. It's nice to play in that, for instance, instead of being singed," he remarked laughing. "Bath bombs, huh? You get the ones with prizes?" He teased, messing around with her. No judgment from him if she did, but he would be amused. "Hmm... Then you will have to serenade me in front of everyone," he decided after a moment of deliberation. He laughed more at her comment, nodding. "And I think you for that, since you wouldn't be seeing him at his best which would be a damn shame." But he wasn't planning on losing this bet.

Pandora

«And water won’t burn you. It’s calming» she said with a bright smile. Yep, she definitely liked her water. «No? Just normal bath bombs that you release in the tub. If there is things in it, you could end up forgetting and clogging the drain?» she really never saw the use in that. «Oh dear lord» she laughed, shaking her head as they walked. «You are going to be held responsible for the bursted eardrums of this city then. All your responsibility» she said, giving his nose a little bop with the food. «Hmm, I probably have bigger buddies i use at work, than when you are full sized. So i don’t think you should worry about me and thinking about sizes. I am all about how and not size»

Nikolaj

"It is, unless you go in over your head," he teased and winked at her before taking a giant bite of corndog. Oh, Nik, you giant goof. "But - you could have prizes?! Don't you want prizes?" he asked, sounding scandalized, but was only messing around. Would he pick the ones with prizes? Yes, yes he would and probably used whichever ones Iva had laying around. Would she buy them with unicorns and shit in them? Probably. But Nik wouldn't care. "I will happily take it. I'll just convince them all to come to the club later, round of drinks on me!" Free drinks cured most ills after all. He tried to nip at the corn dog when it booped his nose and he laughed. He did raise an eyebrow at her comments though and then burst out laughing. "Oh, believe me, I am very skilled in that area," he remarked, more than a little smug, and a smirk to match.

Pandora

«it is fun to go fully under the water though, don’t you think? Just sink down, close your eyes and mouth, and just feel the sensation? Knowing the world is mighty and could ruin you?» Pandora wondered out loud as they walked, eating their corndogs as they walked. Looking ariund. «If i want a prize, I will just buy the prize. Want a ring? Buy thr ring» that was the easiest way she could see to it. Shaking her head, Pandora was easily amused with him. «Even a round of drinks on me, hmm?» she asked, giving him a poke with her elbow. It was nice and chill to go with him. Even if he could be a dumbass. «Good to hear. I better not hear about you disappointing any ladies then Nikolaj»

Nikolaj

Nikolaj considered that and slowly nodded. "True, that is nice," he finally agreed. "You must spend a lot of time in the bath then?" he teased and wiggled his eyebrows. Stop picturing her in the bath, Nik. Stop it. But they'd been on this topic too long, he couldn't help himself. "Fiiiine. But I still think that's not as fun as getting a prize," he said with a joking huff. "Hey! Go big or go home, right?" he laughed, that grin appearing on his face again. He was a dumbass, but an amusing one, for sure. "If you do, let me know, I will have to remedy that immediately. Can't have such black marks ruining my reputation now, can I?" He knew how word got around in this town and he did aim to please.

#chat:: nikolaj && pandora #lambxtoxslaughter #event thread

[allofusandco]

dimples

Veronica’s air conditioning is dead. Nik is a white knight.

With @moonoverbourbon

Ronnie:

Veronica woke in her makeshift downstairs bedroom with a smile on her face and the sun already beating down at about ten thousand degrees. She’d thought she’d known hot weather in Southern California; she’d been wrong. Still, she had a smile on her face, and she was feeling kind of cute.

Well, she was cute, so…

She bounced to the bathroom to shower and wash off last night’s sweat and the liquor that was oozing from her pores; she hadn’t really drunk all that much, in the end, but in the heat, it was more than enough. She washed her hair, and despite a hefty feminist debate with herself, put on a little makeup; just enough to convince herself she didn’t look a day over twenty-four. A short skirt and a camisole shirt were about as much as the thought she could bear to wear.

She picked up her phone. Was it too early to call? She was, after all, supposed to look cool. But they’d established the night before that cool wasn’t really a forte for either one of them. Cool-ish? She made herself some coffee, stared at the horrifying contents of the fridge (not a good look, Ronnie) and headed out to give herself a nice long moment on the front porch.

When the coffee was done, she sent a message.

[nik]: Hi! Thanks again for last night. I had a blast. I’m awake and fresh as a daisy, so come by anytime. x

That sounded dumb. She shook her head, but pressed ‘send’ anyway, wondering if the ‘x’ was too much. Maybe? Possibly?

There wasn’t a lot to do. After tidying her bedroom (there was no door, just a screen, and it made her a little self conscious) she made another coffee and headed into her office to start poring through the security footage from a local clothing store that thought an employee was stealing dresses. Before long, she was completely absorbed, moving slowly from frame to frame until she had worked out what was going on.

She stood up suddenly, and start shouting, pointing at the monitor.

“Ha! You think you’re soooo smart because you wear a size zero and you’ve still got bigger boobs than me,” she shouted. “But you’ve been foiled. By the great Veronica Mars! Take that. I hope I get invited to the firing of the century, and I hope I get a discount on those mules your boss has in the window, which your ugly feet would look ridiculous in.”

She held her fists above her head, dancing some ridiculous combination of a mambo and the nutbush, and froze suddenly as Nik stepped cautiously in front of the door.

“Mars Investigations, Louisiana Division,” she said. “Genius at work. Wow. You are still really cute. I can really pick ’em.”

–––––

Nik:

His face was probably a lovely shade of pink when he got her message. Embarrassingly, Nik had been awake and ready to go for over two hours already. He’d kept busy by cleaning his apartment (even though it hadn’t needed it), walking down to the grocery store to restock the pitiful contents of his icebox, and making and remaking his bed a dozen times.

Finally he drug himself to the shower, washing off New Orleans humidity (that would be replaced as soon as he set foot outside again) and spent more time than he cared to admit picking out something decent to wear.

After the text, Nik grabbed his keys and headed off to the Garden District. It was a brutal drive on the best of days, but today was especially precarious. Tourists in horse drawn carriages blocked both lanes, buses touting “see Katrina’s path now!” littered the sides of the road, and some unfortunate vampire television show was shooting in the cemetery down from Veronica’s house. It put his nerves on edge, and he’d nearly forgotten to stop and buy her flowers.

People still did that right? Bought flowers? It had been so long since he’d been on a bloody date that Nik wasn’t sure.

Nevertheless when he finally arrived, he was carrying a beautiful bouquet of pale pink tulips, a tool kit to use on her air conditioning unit, and had the biggest smile he could manage.

Nik knocked…twice…but when he didn’t get an answer (and heard her begin to yell) he stepped cautiously through the front door. The sight that greeted him had the smile growing impossibly wider as he fought and failed not to laugh at her antics.

The smile faltered, face flushing scarlet as Veronica complimented him. Nik’s head ducked bashfully, eventually forcing his eyes up to meet hers. “I’m to take it that you had a breakthrough on a case? Or do you normally dance about your livingroom like a mad woman?” She was so cute, unbelievably beautiful both inside and out, and Nik had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky.

Or why she even wanted to waste her time with him.

“Um, I hope it’s okay that I just walked in. I knocked, but I suppose you were engrossed in your work. The door was open, so when you began shouting I was worried.” He stood there awkwardly for another moment, then held out the flowers as if he’d forgotten that they were in his hands.

“I bought you these. I saw them, and they reminded me of you. It’s probably not proper etiquette for fixing someone’s air conditioning, but they were beautiful. I wanted you to have them.” Nik tried to ignore that he’d just told her they reminded him of her…and then followed it up with the fact that he found them beautiful. Not even five minutes inside her house and he was already putting his foot in his mouth.  “So, ahem, where is his behemoth that needs to be slain?”

–––––

Ronnie:

“To tell you the truth,” Veronica said, enjoying the way Nik’s cheeks pinked up at the compliment, and coming around to the front of her desk. “I do dance around like a mad woman more than the average, but you’ll get used to it.” Truthfully, she was torn between gazing at Nik’s dimples, and the bashful look in his eye, and the tulips, which were gorgeous. When was the last time someone had bought her flowers? Oh, Valentine’s day. Her father. Mercy roses. “But I did make a breakthrough. I’ve been trying to work out how the world’s most unpleasant sales associate has been stealing clothes from work, and I just figured it out. I can’t wait to tell her boss, and watch her get fired and led away in handcuffs. Some moments have to be preserved in memory forever.” She sighed happily, and looked at the flowers again.

She pushed up on tiptoes to kiss Nik’s cheek, one hand on his shoulder. “They’re gorgeous,” she said, accepting them with both hands. She was going to have to get them into water quick smart – it was a furnace in here today. “Thank you.”

She headed into the kitchen – alright, so she didn’t have a vase, but there was a pretty glass jug that would do just as nicely. She’d taken to making iced tea, since it was the state pastime and it really was easier to drink than coffee on a hot afternoon.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “It must be a hundred and ten degrees in here today.” She unwrapped the cellophane and put the flowers into a couple of inches of water – she’d come back and trim the stems later, add a little sugar to the water. Put them on her desk so she could stare at them and not do any work at all.

“I don’t know if it’s the outside part that’s busted, or the inside part,” she said, opening the door that led to her rear courtyard and pointing at the unit. “They both make a lot of noise, but I think it might be worst out here. I didn’t give you the tour,” she said, turning abruptly to find she was standing a lot closer than she’d intended. “Except there’s not much grand tour. The sitting room is currently my bedroom, and I think you might burst into flames if I showed you that. So come upstairs and I’ll show you.”

The stairs were steep and narrow and Veronica had no idea if she’d ever manage to walk up them so much as tipsy, but she really did want to move her bedroom upstairs, so she’d decided she was going to have to master it.

She opened the door at the top of the stairs, and stepped back.

“Welcome to hell,” she said, cheerfully. “That’s the unit.” She turned it on, and winced as it roared into life and began to blast hot air. “What do you think?”

–––––

Nik:

The way she said that he would get used to seeing her behave that way made Nik actually think that he might. How long had it been since someone had wanted him around for more than something casual? Honestly, and much to his embarrassment, he couldn’t remember. There was part of him that was terrified of what Veronica represented, but another part – a far larger part – was almost breathless with the prospect.

“Congratulations on cracking the case, love. I’d say this called for a celebration, but I’m afraid we’d both melt if we moved too quickly in here.”  He grinned, shaking his head at his own lame joke. It wasn’t far from the truth, however. It was hot as hell in her house. The poor girl must have been miserable.

Nik felt heat rise to his cheeks again when she kissed him, and his fingers automatically trailed over that flushed skin when she turned away to put the flowers in water. “You’re very welcome, Veronica. I saw them and thought they were almost as lovely as you.” Had he really just said that? Maybe he was getting better at this whole flirting thing after all?

No.

Probably not.

He stepped behind her, closer than he’d meant, when she pointed to the outside unit. Nik made a face at the clanging sound coming from the beast, and started to say that it sounded like a fried motor when she turned around. Veronica was so close that it would have taken half a second to lean in and kiss her, and Nik would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about doing just that. He didn’t move, couldn’t have if he wanted to, just standing there and failing to keep his eyes off her lips. “Umm. Tour. Yes, that’s probably best.”

Following along behind her, Nik made a mental note never to come her intoxicated. These stairs would be someone’s death, but then that was par for the course in this city. Small homes, stacked high, with long tiny staircases made for feet much daintier than their modern day counterparts. There were days when he wondered how the hell he hadn’t fallen and broke his neck yet; if it wasn’t narrow stairways, it was broken cobblestones on the streets. New Orleans was a death trap, but Nik wouldn’t trade this city for anything in the world.

He groaned under his breath when she turned the unit on and it did nothing but shoot out heated air. “Oh love, that combined with the horrid clanking downstairs? That’s a blown motor. It’s not uncommon around these parts in the late days of summer, especially if the unit is as old as this one. The poor beast has gone to that glorious A/C unit paradise in the sky.” Nik smiled cheekily, trying to make a joke out of it. “Do you have insurance? Most of those policies will pay for repairs, but I’m afraid this is beyond my scope of capabilities.”

“The best I can do is call a friend who works in heating and air. He can come out and tell you how long it will take to get a replacement unit, and until then…if you’d like…I can offer you a place to stay that has air-conditioning and stairs not meant to murder you.”

–––––

Ronnie:

Damn. Still, Veronica had known in her heart that it was too bad for someone who didn’t come with a billion dollar price tag to fix. She sighed, and turned off the unit again.

“Thanks for trying,” she said. “I think I knew in my heart that it was dead. First I’ve heart of A/C heaven. You think it’s really hot there? Or really cool?”

And now that question was going to stay with her all day. If it was cool up there, she might consider going there herself.

“It’s just we had so little time together.” She made a faux grieving face, and reached up to pat the outlet. “You were too precious for this world.”

And it was way too hot up here to stand for another minute.

“You know,” she said, “it’s really nice of you to offer – and I’ll tell you the truth, my mind is doing a whole romantic comedy of errors thing which involves accidentally walking in on each other in the shower, me eating the last of your favourite cereal, the whole shebang. Maybe even ice cream after midnight. But the truth is, this is my office, too. Makes it hard to leave. And I’ve been dealing for a few weeks, now. I’ve got fans, I can cope. But I really appreciate the offer, and if it gets any hotter… you might just find me on your doorstep. Southern California was nothing like this.”

Yeah, she couldn’t just say no. Had to be cute about it.  And she meant it, too.

“Come on. The back porch is nicely shaded. I’ll pour you an iced tea – I’m actually getting to be pretty good at making the stuff, but please don’t tell my Californian friends. They might disown me, or stage an intervention.”

She filled two glasses with ice, and filled them with the tea – sweet and fruity, but strong, too, because god knew she needed the caffeine.

The little swing seat on the back porch really was a nice spot to sit.

“I really am going to do something with the back yard,” she said. “I know it’s only small, but it would be nice to be able to use it, don’t you think?” She passed Nik a glass and sat down, patting the seat beside her. “Little table or something. A barbecue. I’m pretty good at barbecuing, you know, I told my dad how he was doing it wrong for years and years.” She winked.

“We’re still on for dinner on Thursday, right?”

–––––

Nik:

Nik felt like an idiot. What girl in their right mind said yes to staying with some random stranger just because her air conditioning was out? It had just been so natural for him to ask, so natural to want to spend time with her, that he hadn’t thought of what it sounded like actually coming out of his mouth. Veronica probably thought he was a creep – or something worse now.  Just his luck.

“No, no, listen, I understand. Completely. It was…probably a little odd of me to offer. I just…” Nik shook his head, fumbling over his words as he tried to think of anything that wouldn’t make him sound completely daft. “Just forget it,” he smiled, laughing at himself for being so…well…for being so Nik.

He followed her to the porch, taking a seat next to her on the swing as he took his tea from her. “Don’t tell my English friends – not that I have any – that I’m drinking iced tea. They might disown me as well.” Nik shot her a grin, drinking deep from the glass. It was strong – the way he liked – and sweet; she wasn’t half bad at the whole tea thing, but he still preferred his hot.

Letting his eyes follow her train of thought, Nik surveyed the backyard with interest. He didn’t have one, at least one of his own. The building he lived in had a little patio out back, a small patch of grass attached to it where dogs tended to take a leak when their owners were too lazy to take them for a proper walk. “You know,” Nik began, wondering if he really was pressing his luck here. He’d just invited her to stay with him, and now he was about to make another offer.

God, she probably thought he was desperate…but his mouth just wouldn’t seem to stop moving.

“Back in London, my mum had a proper garden. A large backyard with flowers and bushes, a small vegetable patch…” His voice drifted off as he thought about all the time he spent out there after his brother’s death, just tending the flowers in order to stay out of Mikael’s way. “It was beautiful. I, uh, I used to take care of it for her while she worked. I got pretty good at the planting and weeding, tending to the flowers. Whatever it needed. I’d be happy to help if you’d like some help.”

Nik didn’t look at her, eyes still on the yard in front of them even as his mind was a million miles away back thirteen or so years ago in London. “I understand if you’d rather do it yourself, though. There were things my mum always wanted to do herself…said gardening was personal. So, don’t feel obligated, Veronica.”

Thursday. Apparently Nik hadn’t messed up too badly if she still wanted to go. To tell the truth, he was excited about the prospect of getting to know her more. Odd for him; he never let anyone in. “We are, so long as you still want to go with me.” He gave her a shy smile, sipping at his tea. “I’m very much looking forward to it, love. I’m sure you will look lovely in your fancy clothes.”

–––––

Ronnie:

Veronica raised her eyebrows – yes, that sounded good. Here he was backtracking; he was too sweet for his own good.

“So you’ve got a green thumb, have you? Listen – I grew up in a flat the size of a postage stamp, second floor, not even a balcony. The closest thing I had to a garden was a cactus I threw out once a year when it died, and replaced, but I told myself it was basically the same cactus. Since then it’s been college dorms and for the last couple of years, when I was in New York, it was an apartment which made home look like a palace. I’ve never gardened in my life. So now’s when you find out I’m ruthless, and more than capable of abusing someone’s good nature for my own selfish gains.” She took another sip. Could caffeine even get into the bloodstream when it was cold? She was going to need to drink a gallon of the stuff. “I’d love you to help.”

She reached out and patted Nik’s leg.

“As soon as the fall starts, and it’s not so hot. Vegetables sound good, too. I’ll keep that lemon tree, it’s nice.” And old. And produced thin-skinned lemons with lots and lots of juice. “Tear out all the rest. Maybe find a dozen garden gnomes or a flamingo or two. Who knows?” Flowers, and a little table and chairs with an umbrella; she was bound to make a few more friends, eventually, liked the idea of sitting out here in the more tolerably hot months with cocktails and sparkling conversation, legs in Nik’s lap…

Hmm.

Nice image.

And she wanted Mac and Wallace to come visit. They’d promised, after all.

Fancy clothes. Wow, she really needed to finish unpacking her clothes. All the nicest stuff, she’d started to think she might never wear again. It would need laundering and ironing and there wasn’t a convenient dry cleaner on the end of the block who would take care of it – not to mention she wasn’t yet making the sort of money she had been, even if she did seem to be run off her feet.

Few more days. She’d look like a million bucks. Maybe Nik would stop stammering and kiss her. He had such a beautiful mouth.

Veronica sighed.

“I’d really better get back to work. Go tell my client the good news. Thanks for trying; it means a lot. I’ll get it fixed. And in the meantime, I promise, I really am okay.”

–

The following night, Veronica discovered that she wasn’t. At all. It was eight o’clock at night, the humidity was at about a thousand percent, the fan seemed too exhausted to run properly… she couldn’t get comfortable, she couldn’t sleep, and no matter how many times she showered, she felt completely filthy.

She sort of wanted to cry. Why had she picked New Orleans? And it was going to be another three days before they came to fix the air conditioner, which could take a while, depending on what it needed.

She was never going to be able to sleep, and she had a big day the following day, testifying in court on behalf of a client, meetings in the afternoon.

Veronica reached for her phone.

“I was wrong,” she said. “So, so wrong. I can’t think. It’s too hot. What’s your address? This is me, Veronica Mars, taking you up on your offer of a place to stay. Rom-com moments and all. Is it still alright? Say it’s alright; I’m literally packing a bag right now.”

–––––

Nik:

Nik was off, thankfully, when the call from Veronica came. He was out though, wandering through a couple of clothing stores right outside the Quarter looking for an appropriate tie for their date later in the week. Smiling when he saw who was on the other end of the call, Nik answered (much to the chagrin of the salesgirl who was chatting him up about tie pins) on the second ring. “Of course the offer still stands, love. I knew this New Orleans heat would get to you eventually. 780 Royal Street. Take the stairs next to the antique shop. I live at the top in the back apartment. You can’t miss it, but if you do ask Malcolm in the antique store where Nik is. I’m out, but I’ll meet you there.”

—

And he did. Nik made record time getting out of the shop (with a nice gray tie that the shop girl said brought out the blue in his eyes) and getting back across the Quarter to his apartment. He met Veronica coming up the steps and looking miserable. Without hesitation, he reached out and took her bag before fishing his keys out of the pocket of his jeans. “You look miserable, Veronica. I take it there’s been no movement on the new air conditioning front?”

Pushing open the door, he held it open with one hand and stepped to the side so that she could enter before he did. The apartment wasn’t spectacular, but it had the same Spanish and French touches that made the French Quarter famous. “Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour, even though there isn’t much to see.” It was a humble apartment, but it was as close to home as he’d felt since he left England.

The living room was the biggest room, with a small kitchen off to the side. There was a well-worn but comfortable couch, a couple of equally comfortable chairs, and a small, battered coffee table. Off in the corner, Nik had a dining room table that four could fit at comfortably, though she was one of the first people he’d had over. There was a tv, a whole shelf of mystery books, an easel and paints by the widow – making the entire place smell of paper and paint, a combination that he loved.

“This the living room-slash-dining-room-slash-art-room. Please feel free to make yourself comfortable. While you’re here, consider yourself at home. Come on, you can put your stuff in here.” His bedroom was smaller, room enough for the queen-sized bed with thick fluffy blankets, two end tables on either side, a small closet, and a dresser for his things. The star of the room was the set of double doors that led out to a small balcony with two wrought iron chairs and a table. It overlooked the Quarter, and was where Nik spent most of his time when he couldn’t sleep. “The, uh, bathroom is through that door,” he pointed at one off to the side of the room. “The left side of the dresser is empty, so you can put your things there if you want. I’ll take the couch; trust me, I’ve spent plenty of time sleeping on it. You’ll be more comfortable in here, and at night you can open the doors to get the breeze off the river.”

Nik ducked his head, smiling shyly – and oh, so grateful that she was here. “I’ll let you get settled. Can I get you something to drink?”

–––––

Ronnie:

There was a small part of Veronica that was annoyed that Nik had taken her bag – what did he think she was, some weak girl? – and another, larger part that knew she was hot, tired and irrational, and that she loved his gentlemanly ways. She relinquished it and pulled her hair back with one hand to give the back of her neck a break from the prickling heat.

“Thank you,” she said, following the rest of the way up the stairs. “It’s only going to be a few more days – but today was too much. I can’t think. The computer shut down because it overheated. I’m glad I haven’t got a dog yet, because he would probably cook.” She stepped inside ahead of Nik and groaned out loud.

“This is perfect,” she said, lifting her arms out to her sides and enjoying the chill of the air conditioning over her sweating limbs, and cooling her face, improving her mood already. She closed her eyes a moment just to enjoy the sensation.

Grand tour. Yes.

Veronica looked around with interest. A person’s place said so much about them (well, usually; eventually she’d get her own little house set up just right, but she supposed the fact that the only room completely set up was her home office said something fairly sad all by itself). The apartment was small, but exquisitely appointed, and Nik’s obvious eye for pretty things was evident in everything.

“I love it,” she said, very seriously, examining the beautiful cornices, other details that told her it had to have been built around the same time her house was. “I really love it.”

Her eye was caught by the easel, but frustratingly, whatever Nik was working on seemed to have been covered by a sheet. Maybe she’d snoop later. The tiny kitchen was adorable, and there seemed to be plenty of cupboards, unlike a lot of more modern apartments.

“I really love it. I sort of want to look at the balcony, but I don’t want any of this cool air to escape. Maybe late tonight. Early in the morning. When the heat isn’t actively trying to kill us. And I’ll take anything ice cold and alcoholic.”

She smiled at Nik and slipped into the bedroom. Gentleman. She was all swoony again, now she wasn’t angry as a cat about the heat. She washed her face and hands in the bathroom, and tasted salt.

She opened the dresser. Empty. It gave her an odd feeling. How long had it been empty for? Who was the last, before Veronica?

For now, she left her things in her bag, and joined Nik in the living room.

“Now I’m not homicidal anymore, I’m starving,” she said. “Want to order a pizza and watch a couple of movies? Do a little snuggling on the couch? I’m the big spoon.”

–––––

Nik:

There weren’t words to explain how proud Nik was of his home. It wasn’t grand, or lavishly furnished, but it was comfortable – and he’d worked hard for everything inside its walls. “I’m glad you like it,” he smiled, leaving her alone in the bedroom to go and make her drink. He had the makings of a strawberry daiquiri –with fresh strawberries. It wasn’t the watermelon she seemed to prefer, but he hoped it would do in a pinch.

He poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat them both on the coffee table in front of the couch. When she came back in the room, he automatically stood…years of chivalry deeply ingrained from his mother. “I made you a strawberry daiquiri – lots of ice. I hope it helps.”

Nik had already picked up the phone to order pizza when the last part of what she said registered. Snuggling. With him? Was she…serious? He didn’t know, and he didn’t know how to go about asking without sounding like a typical man who wanted nothing more than to get into someone’s pants.

“What sort of pizza do you like? I’m not picky; I can eat anything.” That came from years of being on his own before the lucked out and found the job in New Orleans. “There’s a place down the street that makes amazing pizza. The waiters and delivery guys often come in to the bar after they close. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been known to exchange a few beers for pizza.” Nik gave her a conspiratorial wink, then pushed speed dial on the phone.

After the pizza was ordered, he pointed to a row of DVDs next to the television. “Lady’s choice. If you don’t find anything you want to watch there, I’m sure we can find something on pay-per-view that doesn’t involve busty brunettes and the men who love them.” Seriously there was more porn on pay-per-view these days than anything else; he didn’t really want to admit how he knew that.

Settling back on the couch, Nik watched as she glanced through the movies. God, she was beautiful. He was almost positive that Veronica was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. What she wanted with him…a bartender with no prospects other than standing behind a bar for the rest of his life…he’d never understand. But she didn’t seem to mind being near him, and he owed a huge debt of gratitude to whatever higher power had dropped her into his life.

“You are beautiful,” he said, instantly regretting that he’d given life to the words. Great. Now she probably thought he’d invited her over simply for…

Why wouldn’t the floor open up and swallow him whole?

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. It just slipped…I’m sorry.” Nik shook his head, picking a bright yellow fleck of paint near the corner of his nail bed. “I don’t want you to think I just wanted you here for…Veronica, I apologize.”

–––––

Ronnie:

“Strawberry daiquiri,” said Veronica, with much relish. And with fresh strawberries instead of some nasty syrup? Definitely snagged one of the last good men in America, go her! Woot!

Dressed in clothing that wasn’t drenched in sweat Veronica felt a thousand per cent better.

“Anything that doesn’t involved hot pineapple,” she said, finally heading to the balcony doors to slip outside for fifteen seconds. By the time she was back Nik was off the phone. “The view is amazing,” she said. “And it bet it’s even nicer in better weather. Anywho. I promise not to tell anyone you swap pizza for beer if you promise not to tell anyone I’m a raging bitch when the temperature hits a hundred and ten. Deal?”

Seemed like a reasonable call to Veronica.

She crouched by the television and then settled with her legs crossed, looking through the titles – a lot she’d never seen, a handful of favorites (thank goodness, how could she ever love a man who didn’t love the Godfather films?) and relatively little in the ‘oh shit no’ category. And since one of those was ‘Titanic’ and she owned it herself for the express purpose of watching the second half whenever she was in a bad mood, she really couldn’t pass judgment).

“Godfather,” she decided, ultimately. “I know, not as good as the sequel, but you can’t really appreciate the sequel without watching the original first.” She looked over her shoulder, and caught his look, and what he said.

Would have been easy to laugh it off, but Nik didn’t strike Veronica as the type to say that to all the girls – especially when he almost ruined it by apologizing like he’d grabbed her ass on the subway or something.

“Why, kind sir,” she said, in a truly terrible southern accent. “You might make me blush.” She grinned, and let her eyes fall, popping the disc into the player. She stood up, snagging the remote as she went. “Please don’t apologize for that. I was right in the middle of ‘cute guy said I was pretty’. Don’t yank me out of that space, I beg of you; in another year or so I’ll start going bald and looking like my father, which is ideal for a garden gnome, but less so for a potential leading lady.” She dropped onto the couch, and smiled, biting her tongue before turning back to the television.

He had his furtive shoes on. Better attempt the snuggle once the pizza was there. In the meantime, she embarrassed herself terribly syncing the lines and doing the accents.

“Food,” she said, reaching to pause the remote and leaping to her feet, sometime around the forty minute mark.

–––––

Nik:

“Your southern accent is terrible,” Nik grinned, mimicking and failing at his own. No, too British for anything other than a laughably bad attempt. It made him smile though, and more importantly she was smiling. That was really all that mattered to Nik.

He ducked his head when she said he was cute, trying and failing to keep the blush off his cheeks. Just the slightest bit of pink, but it was enough that he was sure she’d notice. Great. “I highly doubt you’re going to lose your hair and look like your father.” He grinned. “I’m not thinking that whatever higher power is up there, or out there, would be that cruel. You’d look terrible as man, love.”

Nik settled in on the couch, leaving the control of the remote up to her. Veronica seemed to have everything in hand; he was simply happy to be in her presence. Occasionally he’d catch himself laughing at her attempts at mobster accents, but mostly he spent the time watching her out of the corner of his eye. Beautiful. Every bit as beautiful as he’d said.

And for some reason she wanted to spend time with him. How’d he get so lucky?

The pizza’s arrival distracted him from those thoughts, and he jumped up the second she did. It was almost comically timed – he would have laughed had he not been trying to get to the door. “I’ve got it. Sit. I’ll be right back.”  And he was. One quickly signed receipt later, Nik was coming back with their pizza and a free brownie the store threw in because it was him doing the ordering. “Pizza and chocolate. Could this night possibly get any better?”

Grabbing plates from the kitchen, he poured them both some iced tea while he was there, and then made his way back to the living area with everything. Nik passed her a plate and retook his seat, popping open the pizza box so that Veronica could help herself.

Ladies first. Always.

Nik kicked his shoes off, drawing his feet up under his body, and then hit play on the movie once more. He’d forgotten how much he liked these movies and was impressed that she seemed to be enjoying them just as much. Another point in her favor – not that she was having a hard time staying on his good side.

“You know, I think this might constitute as date number two, yes? Or is it three by now? And we haven’t even made it to the official dress-up-and-go-out date. I think we’re ahead of the game.” Good pizza. He needed to shut up now, or he was going to say something monumentally stupid and blow the whole thing. “Can I get you anything else? A pillow? Something to make you more comfortable?”

–––––

Ronnie:

“Wah, this acc-aint?” she said, running a finger over her lip. “You should just be grateful I’ve shed the born and bred Southern Californian staccato for this rich, New York sophistication.”

She let Nik head for the door – after all, natural born gentleman, as he’d already proven – and sat watching his butt as he walked, which was reward enough for staying right where she was. And then she watched the same very nice butt wander into the kitchen while he got plates – PLATES. For pizza. Oh, that was cute, and iced tea; had she given him a taste for it again? Or maybe, just maybe he’d made it in case Veronica came by?

Oh please let it be the latter.

“Pizza, chocolate, iced tea, air conditioning, and the last single gentleman in America,” she said, reaching for a slice (alright, they were huge and she was glad for the plate). “And weaning me off the daiquiris is probably sensible since I’m already tipsy thanks to the heat – couldn’t eat a thing all day,” she admitted. No, it was a lie, because she’d eaten most of a popsicle. Most of. Heat made her nauseous. No, not even, because Neptune in the summer had been hot. And humid! But nothing had prepared her for this. The cooling breeze she needed – absent. Elsewhere. Somewhere. Wow. How much summer was actually left?

She caught a glimpse of Nik’s bare feet before he tucked them up underneath his body – they seemed so pale and weirdly vulnerable. Oh, god, she was a mess. What was it about swearing off men post-Logan? Had she not absolutely promised herself lesbianism or a nunnery? Except all those pink tracksuits (nunnery – surprisingly modern these days) and she really, really liked men. Such a conundrum.

She ate the pizza instead of thinking any further on it, pausing with her mouth full to recite a line or three of dialogue that she absolutely could not resist.

“I’d have been raised a nice normal girl if it wasn’t for the father with the classic movie fetish. He’s not bad overall, but honestly, when you say ‘movie night!’ and he comes home with Vertigo – again – it gets a little wearing.”

Alright. It was hot. So this was probably a bad idea, and she had insisted on being the big spoon, but when Veronica was halfway through a second slice of pizza (and completely done, stuffed to the gills) and it was still nice and cool thanks to the A/C she wriggled across the couch and without asking the slightest lick of permission, turned Nik into her own private pillow. Back against his chest, feet spread across the couch, absolutely one hundred percent crushing on the cute Brit.

“Relax,” she said. “It’ll be less weird. I swear by halfway through the sequel we’ll be asleep like this.”

–––––

Nik:

What could he say? When Nik tried to make an impression, he went all out. Well…as all out as take-out pizza and some hastily slapped together ice tea could get anyway. He picked up his own slice, tearing into it with gusto. It had been a long day, and this was lunch and dinner all rolled into one. Really, he needed to eat better, take better care of himself.

Maybe if he had someone in his life it would push him to do just that.

“I’m not so sure about the last single gentleman,” he said, but secretly he was terrified he was blushing. “I’m sure there are others, but perhaps not in New Orleans.” Nik said the last part teasingly, smiling around the pizza. “New Orleans tends to bring out the worst in some people. I suppose it’s the nature of a party town.”

Bloody hell, Veronica was so beautiful. He could get lost in the way she smiled, that slight crinkle of her nose when she said something witty, and the way she challenged what he thought of himself. It wasn’t just the physical, though she was stunning. Nik admired her spirit and the way she believed in herself; he highly doubted there were self-confidence issues there, but if there were then they were well hidden. She was, in essence, the exact opposite of him.

He fought the urge to tell her she was beautiful again. Once was an embarrassing slip; twice would be bordering on creepy.

“The way you talk about your father…it makes me smile. He sounds like a kind man, the type that drives his children crazy with his antics, but loves them relentlessly.” If he sounded a bit wistful, it was unintentional. Nik had never known that sort of life, never known what it was like to sit down and watch a movie with his dad and laugh about the badly written dialog or poor special effects. Still, he loved hearing those stories from others, knowing that what happened to him hadn’t been normal – hadn’t been what other children went through.

Nik hadn’t expected her to scoot across the couch; honestly, he hadn’t taken her ‘threat’ of spooning seriously. But there Veronica was, back against his chest, long legs stretched out across the couch, telling him to relax. Had he seemed that tightly wound? Nik forced himself to relax against the arm of the couch, enjoying the warmth of her body despite the heat.

He let one leg drop to the floor, bent at the knee, and the other he stretched out alongside hers on the couch. This felt…natural…right. Nik hadn’t felt this content in a long time. For lack of anything better to do with his hands, he draped one across her stomach, the other resting on his knee.

“I did not think you were serious about the spooning,” he grinned, abandoning the food in favor of holding her. “I’m not complaining.” His fingers brushed slowly over her abdomen as he settled in, trying not to concentrate too much on having her in his arms, instead turning his attention back to the movie. “Are you suggesting a marathon until we fall asleep then?”

–––––

Ronnie:

It really did seem to bring out the worst in some people. Laissez le bon temps roulez, and all of that. Still. “Keeps me in clients, though,” she mused. And she was confident of her assessment. At least partly because so far she was making all the first moves and he seemed so delighted, without taking it as an invitation to take anything more. It was nice. After the last few years…

Amazing what air conditioning and a pizza could do for a person’s mood. Veronica felt so much better.

“That was a near perfect characterization of Keith Mars,” she said, with a grin. “Drives me mad, won’t watch his cholesterol, has a bad habit of climbing in windows and having Irish mafia wave guns in his face – but I wouldn’t swap him for anything. When mom left us, I thought he was going to break, and he never did.” And Lianne Mars – or whatever she was going by now – was never going to get another chance with either of them, not that she’d ever seemed interested in trying. “He should be the Mayor of Neptune, not that he’s ever shown and inclination that he wants to be, that many people owe him favors.”

Being so far away was hard. Wondering what sort of trouble he might be getting into, mostly. There were times when Veronica thought about her father and was transported back to that night when she thought he’d been in a plane she’d just watched blow up, and the urge to run home was so strong she could almost smell the salt air and coconut oil lotion. But Neptune had nothing left for her, except her father, and she knew she could never go back, not for more than a visit.

Veronica settled further, and rested her hand over Nik’s, there against her stomach, affectionate, encouraging. There was something refreshing about moving slowly, but it was nice to be touched like that as well.

“I never joke about spooning,” she said, tipping her head back and turning it until she could catch those blue eyes for a moment. “You’re just lucky I let you be the big spoon. This time. It’s far too early for me to start threatening your masculinity.” She eased off to reach for the iced tea, and settled back again, elbow resting against his leg. How long since she’d felt this relaxed with anyone? “And a marathon sounds like an excellent plan.”

By the time the first movie was done with, Veronica had almost forgotten what a miserable day it had been. She pushed off the couch and changed discs, because watching Godfather part I demanded that the far superior Part II be watched immediately afterwards. She crawled back onto the couch and settled herself more firmly between Nik’s strong arms, head against his shoulder.

–––––

Nik:

“I’m sorry about your mother,” Nik said, real sympathy in his voice. His own family was so far from ideal that it was laughable, but he knew that his situation wasn’t the norm. “I don’t really speak much to my family, so I understand a bit of what that feels like.” No matter how much he told himself he didn’t care, there was still a part of him that hoped every time the phone rang that it was one of them. Nik would have probably given anything to speak to his mother or one of his siblings again – even for just a moment.

When she settled back in against him once the second movie was on, Nik closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. This was the most comfortable he’d been in so long that it almost felt alien to him. These sort of things didn’t happen to him; he wasn’t the type that women wanted to be with. Sure, he’d had his fair share of women hitting on him at the bar, but he wasn’t an alpha male. He wasn’t the type that held their attention for long. They wanted something he could never be, and Nik was so very sure that she would come to realize that same thing before too long.

He tried to stay awake, but the warmth of her against his body and the serenity he felt for the first time in a long time proved to be too much. Within the first half hour of the movie, his eyes shut and didn’t open again – his body simply worn out from working and the heat.

~ completed thread

#v: i have no idea either #p: dimples #ronnie rp #moonoverbourbon #all of us; & queue

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 36

Warning: brief mention of attempted suicide, SMUT

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @ocfairygodmother​

Every time she closes her eyes it's there. Dhaka. The dirty, crowded streets; a sea of pedestrians and vehicles. Rundown tenement buildings and hotels; broken or missing windows, rusted balconies and faded, chipped paint. Narrow, cluttered alleyways and over populated laundries and the odd restaurant and cafe.  Vendors peddling their goods among the chaos. It had been loud; a level of noise that she hadn’t anticipated. A continuous drone of honking horns and revving engines and  incessant chattering and laughing. Yet at night it would grow eerily quiet; sundown and the call to prayer bringing a silence...a stillness...that was almost breathtaking.  

There are so many moments...images...permanently ingrained in her mind. That hotel room with its filthy walls and its water stained ceiling; the stark white and pristine bed sheets an odd and stark contrast against the dirt and grime. Torn and faded curtains covered the windows; or least attempted to. The balcony was rotting and weathered; cracked contract cement, wobbly and dent...and in some places missing...railings. It had been a shit hole; too much mismatched and broken furniture shoved into such a small area, a kitchenette that boasted a stove with only one matching burner and a barely functioning bar fridge and only one set of dishes and cutlery. The toilet had to be fixed every time you flushed it and the shower nozzle was barely higher than she was tall, and there never seemed to be any hot water or pressure to it.  Yet it hadn’t been the worst accommodations she’d ever bunked down in; a paradise compared to some of the conditions she’d been subjected to while in the Middle East. And after things had taken an intense -yet not so surprising- turn, nothing around them had mattered anymore; able to temporarily escape the reality of their surroundings and the uncertainty of the situation. And they’d seek out that escape -and the profound pleasure it brought with it- as often as possible.

She can see Gaspar’s. Luxurious by Dhaka standards; a beautiful, well kept home just outside of the city limits. It should have been a relief; getting behind that iron security gate and those four supposedly welcoming walls. Finally off the streets and away from the violent and gunfire and the unpredictability; no longer having to watch your back every single second. But it had made things worse; she should have been grateful and somewhat relaxed and able to let her guard down. But the uneasiness had lingered; the absence of any true sigh of life within the hole eating away at her even as she stood in a hot shower and washed away all the dirt and the blood.  There was a wife but no actual evidence of one; only a single toothbrush in the holder by the sink, nothing by hygiene products geared towards me, no housecoat -feminine or otherwise- hanging behind the door.

He’d been an intimidating man; not as tall or as muscular and defined as Tyler, but big and burly and strong in his own right. Putting on a good show with the welcoming smiles and the friendly chatter, but always watching her out of the corner of his eyes. Calling her ‘the girl’ or ‘that girl’ even when she was in the room. Rolling his eyes or scoffing every time she attempted to speak. He didn’t trust her; in the same way she didn’t trust him.  There was no doubt that he felt that, which in turn made his hostility towards her even stronger.  

And when he’d confronted her in that darkened, upstairs hallway, the threat he presented had become all too terrifyingly real. Accusing her of being cunning and manipulative; willing to say or do anything to guarantee that Tyler would get her out of Dhaka alive. Even if it meant ‘whoring herself out’ to him. That in the end -once they were out of Bangladesh and all was said and done- she’d leave him even more damaged and broken than he already was. Telling her that he knew what she was up to; he recognized the deviousness and the sneaky little games she was playing. Even congratulating her on being able to do it so well and for pulling it off as long as she had.   He’d tried gaslighting her:  she was only “slowing things down, putting an even bigger target on his back. You’re going to get him killed. How are you going to feel then? Knowing he died for you. Will you even care?”.  Admitting that he was  impressed by just how evil and calculated someone so “small and cute and innocent looking” could actually be. And there was nothing she could have  said or done to change his way of thought.

She was the enemy and she needed to be eliminated at all costs.

“The kid AND the girl.”  She can actually hear it in his voice, see  the vehemence and determination on his face.  The same way she can still see his sneer and the darkness in his eyes in that upstairs hallway when he’d reached out to touch her hair and…

Ovi. Ovi opening the door across the hall. The harsh whispers and Gaspar’s threats and lewd, degrading comments jarring him from rest. All of fourteen years old with that mop of hair and those huge dark eyes and that scared, anxious face. His life turned upside down in the blink of an eye because of his father’s transgressions. He could have easily ignored it; listening to every word that was said while cowering under his blankets. But he hadn’t. He’d cared enough to put a stop to things; growing bolder and braver as each second of that long and trying day ticked away.   Afterwards...when the thread had been neutralized...she’d made the kid take a vow of secrecy. That they’d never speak of that moment again and that he’d never...under any circumstances...breathe a word of it to Tyler.  And he was still loyal; holding onto that secret even seven years later.

Bile rises in her throat. He has that effect on her. Gaspar. Even the mere mention of his name makes her feel nauseous. It’s worse now; knowing just how vile and evil he could be behind that fake smile and his promises to help. It had probably been his plan all along; he’d probably gone to Asif the second he finished talking to Nik. Seeing it as an easy payday; convinced that there was no way Tyler would turn down the deal. Why wouldn’t he give up some random girl he’d been casually fucking and a drug lord’s kid? Five million is a lot of money in your pocket, and when combined with your freedom, it would be ridiculous to turn it down.  After all, that's what Gaspar would do. No questions asked. He wouldn���t think twice about getting rich off of someone elses pain and misery. And weren’t all the mercenaries like that? At least in his eyes? Ruthless. Merciless. Savage. What were two strangers compared to that kind of money? An easy choice, in his eyes.

She shouldn’t be surprised. That he’d stoop to that level.  And there’s vindication to be had in the fact that he’d hadn’t gotten away with it. A guilty pleasure in knowing that he’d gone to his grave...and hopefully the deepest recesses of hell...without seeing a single cent of Asif’s money. He hadn’t known Tyler as well as he thought he had; he’d never expected him to both turn down the offer and fight to the death -if need to- to stop Gaspar from getting his hands on her and Ovi. It had been a fitting end; sitting on those steps in his house, watching and listening as he took his last breaths. She’d felt nothing; not even the slightest bit of remorse or pity. At least not towards him. She’d felt it for Ovi; just a kid and being forced to pull the trigger and having it on his conscience for the rest of his life. And she’d felt it towards Tyler; knowing how hard it hits when you’ve been betrayed by someone you thought you could trust.  Gaspar would have killed him. His loyalties had switched to Asif and with Tyler out of the picture, the entire ten million would have been his to keep. It’s a bitter pill to swallow; saving a man’s life and having him betray you THAT badly.  All Gaspar had cared about was the payout. Not the three lives he would have destroyed in the process.

The guilt returns with a vengeance. Appalled that she’d even asked what she had earlier in the day. If he’d considered...even for a split second...accepting the deal. The one person that she’s always trusted...who trusted her in return...being subjected to a question that makes her nauseous to even think about. The only person in her life who has ever made her feel safe; giving her an overwhelming sense of safety and security that no one else had ever managed to do and she’d never realized she wanted OR needed. Who’d been so willing to die for her that day on the bridge and who would do so...without hesitation...even now.  The last person who should have ever faced a question like that. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes;  how deeply it had cut him. Far deeper and far more painful than any physical injury he’d ever received. The fact she’d even think that about him...see him in that way...doing more damage than the actual words themselves. And she’d regretted it the second she’d said it; setting the way his eyes darkened and his expression hardened and his jaw tightened. He rarely got that way with her; not even during the most intense fights they’d had over the years. His temper could be volatile and his words cutting and harsh, but his face...his demeanour...never did THAT. It was cold and brutal. Scary, even . And that’s something he’s never made her feel. Fear.

Esme has no idea why she asked that question in the first place. She doesn’t think that way about him; never has. Even seven years ago there had been no doubt in her mind that he would have done anything and everything in his power to keep her safe. To get her the hell out of Dhaka. And that time spent on the Sultana Kamal Bridge should have been all the answer she needed. When she sat there listening to him choke on his own blood; having to put her fingers through the bullet hole in his neck to keep him alive. That should have been  enough. All the proof she needed. He HAD been willing to die for her. He almost did. On the bridge and in the hospital and even all those years later when he’d tried to take his own life because the demons of the past were just too much to bear.

She pushes those thoughts out of her mind. Of all the things she’s seen and all the things she’s heard, nothing cuts deeper as hearing the person you love -more than life itself- tell you that they don’t want to live anymore; that you’d be much better off without them. No amount of reasoning with enough to convince them otherwise. No amount of tears and begging and pleading enough to get them to change their mind. And when you’re the one that finds them when they've gone through with their attempts…

A flood of tears threaten and she squeezes her eyes shut in an attempt to hold them back. Nothing good ever comes out of dwelling. Whether it be about Dhaka or Gaspar or all of the other battles that have been fought between then and now.  And she rolls over onto her side; watching the way his body rises and falls with each steady breath and the slivers of moonlight that bathe his skin.  His back towards her as he sleeps facing the hall. It’s been the same way for almost seven years; his insistence on facing the door in the same way he won’t sit in a public place with his back towards an entrance. Always ready for any possible threat that could come their way; knowing they stand a better chance of survival if he’s the first person someone encounters. It gives them both a sense of security; him confident in his strength and skills, her confident in his willingness and ability to protect her.

***

Moving closer to him, she uses her fingertips to slowly and methodically trace the large Nordic compass tattoo that sits between his shoulders. In time moving down to each scar and blemish that mars his skin; those little imperfections that make up everything  unique and beautiful about him. He hates that word; despises it being used to describe anything about him. As if it somehow takes away from everything he’s been through; dulling those edges and diminishing his strength and toughness and ‘softening’ him. It’s  ludicrous but understandable.  It’s what happens after years of witnessing abuse and toxic masculinity at its finest. He’s nothing like the man he’d grown up with; aman he’d been expected to respect and emulate. And despite that harsh bringing and the nerves of steels and the hardness...the roughness...that comes from years in the military and then as a mercenary, he’s breathtakingly human.

Behind that tough as nails facade and those jagged edges, he possesses a staggering amount of compassion. There’s a kindness  in his eyes; if you look close enough. It’s none more evident then when he’s with his children: patient and calm, very rarely raising his voice and most certainly never raising a hand. Both face and tone gentle and those strong hands with their scars and calluses and busted up knuckles capable of so much tenderness. Whether it be fixing Millie’s hair or patching up skinned knees or tending to busted lips and bloody noses.   Even a husband...and especially as a lover...the sides to his personality are vastly different; always knowing what she craves. Whether it’s the need for him to be aggressive and dominant or soft and gentle. He just KNOWS. Before she even has to ask. Able to read it in her body language and see it in her eyes; reacting to the situation and becoming exactly what she wants and needs him to be.  He’s complex and sensitive; far more than other people realize.

Her lips replace her fingers; pressing feathery kisses across his shoulders and onto the nape of his neck and along his hairline. A hand sneaking under the arm that rests lightly against his side, palm slowly travelling over her chest and down to his abs and lower; the hair that makes up his ‘happy trail’ wiry and rough against her fingers.

“Baby…” his voice is a low rumble; groggy from sleep. “...what are you doing?”

“Admiring.”

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Really late or really early. Depends how you look at it.”

Sighing, he reaches for his phone as it charges on the nightstand; not objecting when her hand slides even lower. “It’s three in the morning.”

“I'm not allowed to admire my husband at three in the morning?”

“You should be asleep.”

“So should you.”

“I was. Until my brain caught up with my body and realized you were getting ready to jerk me off.”

“I wasn’t even close to doing that. But now that you mentioned it…” her hand continues its descent,  smiling against his shoulder when he groans deep within his chest as her nails lightly drag along his hardening length before taking it in her  hand; warm and thick and solid against her palm.  

And his own hand slips beneath the sheet that slits low on his hip; much larger and stronger as it covers hers, showing her exactly what he needs.  Her mouth slowly travelling over his shoulder and the back of his neck; lips soft, tongue moist, teeth lightly nipping. Loving the power she has over him; the way his breath quickens and his body trembles ever so slightly and his cock grows full and hard in her grasp.  

“Hey…” she protests, a dramatic pout on her face when Tyler rolls over to face her.

“Not like that,”  he says, and kisses her.  Even his kisses have a different side to them. Right now they’re soft and languid and tinged with the lingering remnants of sleep. A hand wandering as his lips down move to her neck slipping up the front of her tank top and cupping one of her breasts; thumb passing over the nipple as he licks and sucks at the sensitive flesh at the side of her throat.

It’s all too much; the scrape of his beard against her skin, the way he alternates between gently caressing the nipple and firmly punching and twisting it. The ache between her legs is profound; almost unbearable. And her eyes close and a whimper escapes her lips and one hand tunnels in his hair and the other reaches between them to work on his cock once again. Enjoying the sounds that escape him and the way his body tenses and his hips jerk towards her.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he says, and then uses his size to his advantage and pushes her onto her back.

“That’s the point.”

“I said not like that.”   He kisses her again; deeper now, more insistent. Demanding. A hand grabbing a hold of her hip and the fingers pressing into her flesh as he encourages her to open her legs. A long, low groan tumbling from his mouth as he slips into her with a slow, deep thrust.

She sighs, eyes fluttering closed as he moves inside of her. Each thrust fluid and intentional; every push causing a whimper to escape her lips. Legs falling open and bending at the knee; that simple change in position pulling him in even deeper.  He feels so good; those hungry and needy kisses, the way the muscles of his back move against her, the bulge of biceps and forearms as he bears his weight on outstretched arms.  And when he breaks out of a particularly deep and demanding kiss, she reaches up to grab a hold of his hair;  yanking his head back and then trailing the tip of her tongue along his throat, over his Adam’s apple and up onto the underside of his chin. Tasting the sweat on his skin, feeling the trickle of his beard. And when she pulls his bottom lip between her teeth, something unravels inside of him. Movements become faster. Harder. Spurred on by the noises she makes and the way her nails rake down his back.

“Make me cum,” she whispers. “Please...Tyler...make me cum.”

He reaches between them, the tips of two fingers toying with her clit. Until he can feel her shuddering against him and her hips lift off the bed; kissing her in order to stifle the cry that she emits. And he continues to move inside of her; pushing through the contractions and the convulsions of those inner muscles.

“Let me finish in your mouth,” he says, eyes searching hers for permission. And when she gives a nod of consent, he pulls out and rolls onto his back. Fingers of both hands tangling in her hair as she kisses, lick, and nibbles her way down his body. “Fuck…” the word leaves him in a low, drawn out groan when she lightly sucks at the tip before fully taking him between her lips. And it takes all his will power to not grab a hold of her head and fuck her mouth. Letting her do all the work; eyes closed and chest heaving, hands gently resting in her hair. “...feel so good…” he praises. “...feels so fucking good.”

Her hand curls around his shaft; working together with her mouth to drive him closer to the edge.  Soon it becomes impossible to bear and he can no longer hold back; hands tightening in her hair and his hips rising off the bed, forcing her to take him even deeper. Fucking her mouth win the way he he would her body while buried inside of her. Until he’s coming hard and fast, pushing down on her head until the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat; long, hot spurts of semen that she accepts willingly, swallowing every last drop. Mouth and hand working together to drain him dry,  leaving him a panting, quivering mess.

“You’re so fucking good at that,” he breathes, and then cocks open an eye as she kisses her way up his body; her eyes sparkling, a prideful  grin on her face.  “Yeah...you SHOULD be proud of yourself and things you can do.”

“Maybe you’re just easy to please.”

“It’s not that. Trust me. It’s you. All you,” he pushes a hand through her hair once again, lightly tugging on her dark tresses as he pulls her down into a long, deep kiss. And she settles her body against his; head against his shoulder and their chests pressed together, her legs resting between his.

“Thanks for waking me up,” Tyler says, and she laughs. “Normally I’d kick your ass out of bed for waking me up at three in the morning, but I think you had a pretty good reason.”

“It didn’t go the way I planned,” Esme admits. “You were supposed to let me do all the work.”

“That NEVER  happens.”

“Because YOU  won’t let it happen. Because you’re stubborn and you won’t ever just lie back and let me spoil you."

“I don’t know, I remember being laid up after knee surgery and you pretty much had to do everything. And by the way, I know it’s been three years, but you did an awesome job. My dick says thank you.”

She grins and presses a kiss to the side of his neck. “Your dick is very welcome. He’s lucky I like him so much. I can’t stand most dicks. Yours? He’s alright.”

“That’s because all the other dicks you had didn’t know what they were doing. Mine? Legend.”

She laughs at that,  and he drops a kiss on the top of her head; palm slowly running down her spine and settling at the small of her back. Fingertips grazing over the tattoo that resides there; remembering how she’d been so embarrassed when he’d seen it for the first time. A ‘tramp stamp’ she’d called it, though he still doesn’t fully understand the phrase. It had been a drunken mistake during her first year at college and she’d always regretted it. But didn’t mind when...in Dhaka...he'd pinned her to the bed face down, hands tightly holding her hips as he traced the tattoo with the tip of his tongue.

And he closes his eyes. Prepared to settle back into sleep with her slight, small body pressed against his. Knuckles brushing along her spine.

***

“How well did you actually know him?” Esme asks.

Tyler’s eyes snap open. He’s slightly disoriented; on the edge of sleep when she spoke. “Who?”

“Gaspar.”

“Why are we talking about him? Especially now. Right after we made love.”   He doesn’t use that term often; mainly because their ‘go to’ has always been straight up fucking. As crude and harsh at it sounds. Very rarely were things slow and gentle in the bedroom.

“How close were you guys? Acquaintances? Friends? Best friends?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs. “Why are we talking about him?”

“I’m just curious.”

“It’s almost four in the morning,” he points out.

“When you say he was your friend, do mean you were friends with him like you are with Koen and Rata, or…”

“A friend as in we worked some jobs together and we’d go out for beers afterwards or we’d meet up if we ended up in the same place. Not friends as in I’d known him my entire life or I’d go to his place and visit during my downtime or send him text messages and Christmas cards and all that shit.”

“So basically a work friend,” she concludes.

“Yeah...basically. Why are we talking about him again?”

“And you saved his life, right?”

“Once. Why?”

“How? How’d you save his life?”

“Esme, what the hell?  Why are we talking about this? Is it ‘cause of what I told you today? That’s why I DIDN’T tell you before. Because I knew it would bother you. I knew you’d dwell on it and ask questions I don’t have answers for. If I’d known this would happen…”

“Humour me,” she says. “I want to know. How you saved his life.”

Tyler sighs. “He went into Honduras to do a job for some mobster type. Ended up fucking the guy’s wife and getting caught. So Nik sent me in there to get him out. He was a couple of hours away from a pretty painful and gruesome death when I got there.”

She scoffs. “You should have left him there.”

“Well what’s the saying? Hindsight is twenty-twenty? If I’d known then what would happen in Dhaka, I would have have told him to go fuck himself and bought a front row ticket to watch his execution. But…”

“It wasn’t your fault, you know. What happened that night. I know you blame yourself for taking Ovi and I there. But it’s not like you  knew he was going to fuck you over.”

“I knew something wasn’t right. When I talked to him in the kitchen. There was something weird about the way he said ‘how’s the kid and the girl?’. And then talked about leaving to go and kiss his wife and it seemed...I don’t know...like it was bullshit.”

“There was no proof there was a wife.”

“He was wearing a ring,” Tyler points out.

“That means nothing. Lots of people wear rings on that finger. We never found out for sure. You know, it'd probably be pretty easy to look up if there really WAS a wife.”

“Why would we bother?”

“Just for curiosity’s sake, I guess.”

“Who gives a shit? It’s been seven years. If there was a wife, I’m sure she realized pretty quickly how much better off she was without him.”

“I still don’t understand how he could do that to you. Especially after you saved his life. Betray you like that.”

Tyler shrugs. “Money’s a hell of a motivator.”

“You never took the money.”

“I’m not a psychopath.  He obviously was. And I don’t want to talk about this again. The whole deal thing. Once was enough. And it didn’t end well.”

“I didn’t mean it. What I said. It was a stupid fucking thing for me to ask. I don’t even know why I DID ask it. It’s like it just came out.”

“Baby,” he runs a hand over her hair and kisses her temple.  “We already talked about this. We don’t need to do it again.”

“I feel like complete and utter shit about it. For hurting you like that. I never...ever...would do anything to intentionally hurt you. And I’m a shit human being for doing what I did and I feel terrible and…”

“Esme, stop. We’ve been through this. You said you were sorry, I accepted it, we moved on.”

“You should be angrier.”

“Says who?”

“Me. Because I know how I’d feel if you said something like that to me. If you all but accused me of being like Asif or Gaspar or guys like Mahajan Senior. It would kill me inside. And I’d be so pissed and hurt and…”

“And I was and now I’m not and you need to drop it. It’s fine. You apologized, we talked about, what more is there? I’m not angry. Am I hurt still? A little. But I’ll get over it. I’ve said plenty of mean shit to you when I’ve been mad, yeah?”

She nods.

“And you’ve always forgiven me. Every time. So let it go. Please. It’s over.”

“I am sorry,” she tells him. “That I said it. Because I’ve never…ever...thought that about you.”

“I know. Is that why you woke me up? To apologize in a different way?”

“Maybe.” she admits. “Did it work?”

“I’d already forgiven you. So you didn’t need to go to all the trouble.”

“You mean I could have saved all the time and energy and spared my jaw the hard work and pain?”

“You’re being dramatic. You do it willingly so it can’t be THAT bad.”

“I do it because you like it. And because I like doing it for you. And if I’m being honest, it kinda turns me on.”

Tyler grins. “You ARE dirty.”

“It’s easy to be dirty being married to the likes of you. You’ve got skills. Mad skills. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to marry you in the first place”

“Yeah? What are the other reasons?”

“It’s a whole bunch of things,” she says. “The way you can always make me laugh even when I’m having a really shitty day. How you always compliment me even when I know I look like crap. How you always look at me like I’m the most amazing woman in the world. Because you’re a great kisser and you’re nice to look at and you help make beautiful babies.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“And mostly because I love you and I thought I’d never love anyone THIS much. Especially after Mark and all his bullshit. I didn’t think I’d ever get married again. And then you came along and that was it. Everything changed. I often wonder how things would have turned out if we met differently. Do you ever think about that?”

“Sometimes,” Tyler admits.

“I always have it in my mind that if you’d met me at my cousin and Gs’ wedding, would things have gone down then? If I hadn’t been overseas…”

“I would have fucked you in the coat check room for sure.”

She raises her head and frowns.

“Just saying. And you wouldn’t have wanted to know me then. I was an even bigger mess than when we DID meet.”

“Okay...so if not there...where?”

“I dunno. I always imagine that you would  have been here on vacation and we would have run into each other that way.”

“On the beach?”

“Sure. That works.”

“I so would have been checking you out,” she giggles.  “All the muscles and the tattoos and those eyes and that hair…”

“I didn’t always have that hair, you know.”

“Every scenario I ever think of, you have that hair. Humour me. Would you have checked me out?”

“I’ve seen you in a bathing suit. So, yeah. I would have checked you out.”

“It weird to think about,” Esme muses. “A different version of us. A normal version. A normal Esme and a normal Tyler. With normal jobs and normal lives. I think you would have made a good cop. Or a firefighter. Or even just stayed in the military.”

“I always think you would have made  a good teacher,” he says. “Or a nurse. Considering all the times you’ve had to take care of me. And how good you are at giving sponge baths.”

She grins. “Would still have fallen in love with me? If I’d been normal?”

“How normal?”

“If I’d been a nurse or teacher. Same personality, just a different career.”

“In a heartbeat. What about you? Would have fallen in love with me if I’d just been some normal guy?”

“Hmmm…” she ponders. “I don’t know…”

Tyler scowls. “You know what…?”

“I’m kidding,” she laughs, and presses a kiss to his lips. “I would have fallen in love with you a million times over.”

Smiling, he places a kiss on her temple and wraps both arms around her, holding her tightly and securely. Until her breath softens and evens out and he knows she’s asleep.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #best part of me #Chris hemsworth character

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 10

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​

With Declan at Salena’s house for a ‘lunch and play date’, Esme takes advantage of the downtime, spending the first part of her afternoon eating lunch on the back patio while Adeline naps on a blanket nearby.  Enjoying the breeze that blows in off the ocean, the way the sun glistens on the water, and the sound of the waves as they roll up onto the shore.  It’s peaceful; a welcome relief from the earlier incident with Chloe and the drama that had ensued the night before. She has a chance to let her brain finally rest, losing herself in the petty drama on social media posts and reading celebrity gossip blogs.  Simple, mindless pleasures that help take her mind off things; the worry revolving around Ovi, the problems TJ is having a school, her own battle with mental health issues.  

Today is a better day; the dark overhead not as dense and terrifying. She’s able to find happiness in the sunshine and the sound and the smell of the ocean and the sight of her infant daughter fast asleep; long dark eyelashes resting against the top of her cheeks, those rosy, tiny lips pursed, her hair being tousled by the breeze. Content and peaceful; comfortable in just a pink bathing suit with brightly colored unicorns printed on it and ruffles on the bum. Mac curled up beside her; a paw touching her leg, raising his head to watch her when she twitches or makes even the faintest of noises in her sleep.

After lunch –and when Addie wakes- Esme takes her down the water, crouching down and lightly pressing the baby’s feet in the wet sand, leaving tiny prints behind. Sitting at the edge while the tide rolls in, the baby between her legs and resting back against her, gently splashing the water onto Addie’s legs and tummy; allowing her to get used to the texture and the temperature.  Then wading out until the water just reaches the small of Addie’s back as she holds her tightly and protectively against her. There’s no fussing. Not even the slightest of cries or the flinch of discomfort.

“You are definitely your father’s daughter,” Esme says, as she presses a kiss to Addie’s cheek. “You’re a natural. Definitely not a scaredy cat.  When you’re a bit bigger, he’s going have you out here all the time with your brothers and sister. Swimming, teaching you how to surf. All that fun stuff. You look me, but I think you’re going to be just like him. And that’s a good. A very good thing. Because he is brave and strong and has a huge heart inside that big body of his.”

Later she spreads a blanket out on the sand and lies down on it, Addie on her stomach and pressed against her mother’s chest; a towel loosely draped over her tiny body to protect her from the sun. The sand is warm and soothing against her back and combined with the heat from the brilliant sunshine and the sounds of the ocean, it’s enough to almost lull her to sleep.  She’s exhausted; mentally and physically. It’s been years since she’s been able to indulge in even the smallest bit of self-care, devoting her life to being a wife and a mother. Even a few hours without the other four kids will do wonders for her body and mind. And she’s just beginning to doze off when she feels a slight –yet noticeable- change in the temperature; cracking open an eye to find a shadow cast over her.

“I was starting to wonder if anybody lived at this dump,” the familiar voice drawls, and her eyes snap open at the sound of it, quickly and carefully sitting Addie down on the blanket before jumping to her feet.

“Oh my god! Kyle!” The tears are already brimming in her eyes as she practically throws herself against him, and he laughs as he circles her waist with his arms and picks her up off her feet.

“Hey, kid,” he greets, and presses a kiss to her temple.

She holds his scruffy face in her hands. “What are you doing here?”

“Would you believe I came all this way just because I missed my little sister?” He tousles her hair affectionately and places her on the ground.

“No. But I’ll let you have it. Why didn’t tell us you were coming to visit? So we knew to expect you.”

“It was kind of a last-minute thing. I had some vacation time owed to me and I thought I'd take advantage of it. And I’ve always wanted to visit Australia, so....” he puts his hands on his hips and emits a long, low impressed whistle as he takes in the surroundings. The beach with its pristine, almost white sand, the expanse of the ocean, the house and the property it sits on. “...here I am. And wow, it’s even better than the pictures and those were pretty impressive.”

“Isn’t it awesome? It’s everything we could have ever possibly imagined. Every day it gets more and more beautiful. We are so blessed, K. In so many ways.”

“You guys sure are. I’m not surprised you never want to come back to the States. I wouldn’t want to if I lived here either.  You look good, kid,” he reaches out to push wayward strands of hair behind her ears. “How you been feeling?”

“It’s been a rough one,” Esme admits. “I haven’t really been myself since having Addie.?”

“Post-partum or...?”

She nods. “Even worse than with Declan. That that was bad enough. But I have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow to talk to her about it and get some meds. So I’ll be right as rain soon. I can’t believe you’re here!” She wraps her arms around his torso. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Wow, your brain must really be messed up,” Kyle teases, and then jumps backwards with a chuckle when she directs a painful punch towards his stomach. “So where’s this new niece of mine? I didn’t come all this way for nothing, you know.”

“You’re going to love her,” Esme gushes, and takes him by the hand and pulls him towards the blanket. “She’s so tiny and so beautiful and so perfect. And she looks like me! Finally! It only took how many tries?”

“Tyler must have used up all the good genes on the first four,” he chides, a broad smile spreading across his face when his sister carefully places Addie in his arms. “Holy shit! She’s even tinier in person! I can’t believe how light she is. Like holding a doll.”

“Even the preemie diapers and clothes are a bit too big on her right now. She makes all the others seem huge when they were born. Even the twins were bigger, and they were early.”

“And then there’s Declan who was practically a toddler when he was born.”

“That was like giving birth to a baby elephant. Wait until you see him. He's at the neighbor's right now, but he’s huge! He’s so tall and he’s solid and so strong. Isn’t she just amazing?” Esme smiles down in pride at her baby girl. “Isn’t she just the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen?”

Kyle grins. “You’ve said that with every one of them.”

“But she’s even more so. Look at her. How beautiful she is. Look at all that hair and those huge eyes and those tiny little ears!”

“She’s beautiful like her momma.” he declares and pecks his sister’s cheek. “You did good, kid.  You did really good.”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit. I did have some help.”

“One thing you guys are really good at is making cute kids, that’s for sure. I can’t wait to see them. I can only imagine how big they’ve gotten in just six months. Bet Millie’s growing like a weed.”

“TJ is almost taller than she is! He’s five, K! There’s no way he should be that tall and have that big of feet. And Tanner...oh my god...wait until you see his hair. He looks so much Tyler. Like the spitting image of him. It used to be TJ, but Tanner has changed so much. You won’t believe it when you see them.”

“I’ve missed them,” he smiles down at his niece and runs a palm over her hair. “It’s been hard. Being that far away from them. They’re happy though? They’re doing okay?”

“TJ has had some issues at school. Just some acting out and some aggression. We think he’s just struggling with such a huge change in his life. But we’re going to have a specialist look at him. Just in case it’s something more. It may be nothing. He may just have his dad’s temper and needs to learn how to control it. But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“But happy? Are they happy?”

“Very. And healthy.  They’re thriving here, K.  They love school, their grades are good, they have friends. They spend nearly all their time outside when they’re home. They go swimming and fishing and Tyler is teaching them how to surf. They’re in their element. And that’s what we wanted for them.  A place they’d be truly happy. Where they’d feel safe and secure.”

“And you? Other than this post-partum stuff. Are you happy?”

“It’s probably the happiest I’ve been in about fifteen years. I wish we’d never left. That we’d just stayed here instead of going back to Colorado.  It’s where all our problems started. Everything just seemed to go downhill when we moved back there. If we’d just stayed here...”

“And miss spending time with your favorite big brother? I’m insulted,” he playfully nudges her with his elbow.  “Not sense dwelling on it, kid.  That’s all behind you now. Can’t go back and change it, so why even think about it? Nothing good ever comes out of wondering ‘what if’.”

“When did you become so wise and logical?” Esme teases. “That is not the K I remember. The K I remember still loved playing beer pong and doing shots out of random girls’ navels.”

“Well, you meet a good woman and things change. What can I say?”

His sister doesn’t respond, instead arching her eyebrows and giving a tight-lipped smile as she gathers up the blanket and shakes it free of sand before folding it.

“Esme...” Kyle sighs. “...don’t be like that.”

“Don’t be like what? I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to. You’ve got that look.”

She laughs. “I don’t have a look. You’re just imaging I have a look.”

“I know Nik isn’t your favorite person, but....”

She scoffs.

“...she is my fiancée. She’s going to be my wife. You need to give her a chance. I gave Tyler a chance.”

“You didn’t know Tyler before you met him. I know Nik. I’ve known Nik for years. And ninety percent of that time, she was trying to get my husband to cheat on me. With her. She was doing everything in her power to fuck things up between us.”

“But she didn’t.”

“That’s hardly the point. She still did it. Why would you want to be with a woman you know was hell bent on being a homewrecker? And she wasn’t trying to wreck just any home. She was trying to wreck your sister’s home. How can you be okay with that?”

“She’s already apologized. To you. To Tyler. What more do you want? The pastis just that, right? The past. Leave it there. She's changed. You’ll see that for yourself.”

Esme’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me? I’ll see what for myself?”

“That Nik’s changed. What?” he chuckles. “You thought I’d take a vacation to Australia alone?”

“She’s seen plenty of Australia. Including parts I’d rather she’d never seen.”

“Esme, stop. That’s history.”

“Yeah, their history. Do you not realize how weird this is for you? That you’re marrying Tyler’s ex....whatever the hell she was? I’m going to be related to a woman that’s had sex with my husband. You don’t find that a little strange?”

“I can see why it’s a little off putting,” Kyle admits, and then follows her as she heads towards the house. “But it’s been a long time. Since the two of them had a thing. They’ve both moved on. He’s married, has five kids...”

“None of that matters to her before. Why should it now? It’s just weird, K. It’s just plain weird. That my sister in law was once banging my husband. Boy, that will be interesting conversation around the table at Thanksgiving. ‘Did you know Tyler and I used to fuck? Can you pass the gravy?’”.

“Okay, so now you’re being a tad irrational.”

“And it’s not just that,” she continues. “The fact they’ve had sex. On multiple occasions. It’s that Nik used him and manipulated him and preyed on every fear and worry he had to get him back into the job. She knew he had mental health issues and it didn’t even stop her. She didn’t even care. All she cared about was what she could get out of him.  So I’m sorry if I’m not thrilled that that’s the woman you’ve decided to spend the rest of your life with.”

“And like I said. She’s changed. You’ll see that for yourself. All I’m asking is that you give her a chance.”

“I’ve given her tons of chances,” Esme tosses the blanket onto one of the patio chairs and wipes her feet off on the mat in front of the sliding door before opening it. “How many chances am I supposed to give her?”

“You’ve given Tyler tons of chances,” he points out.

“He’s my husband, K. Don’t even compare the two.”

“Give her one more chance,” he implores, as he follows her into the house. “And do you guys never lock your doors around here? I was able to just walk right in.”

“No one comes down this way. Except for you now, apparently.”  She grabs the tea kettle from the middle of the stove, fills it with water and plugs it in. “I don’t lock them. Tyler does. Because he’s paranoid as fuck.”

“Of what?”

“Of anything. Of everything. Of everybody. Wouldn’t you be? After living the life he did? He’s pissed off a lot of people, K. There’s a lot of evil fucks out there that feel he did them wrong. There’s always a chance that someone is out there waiting for the opportunity to get back at him. Or at least that’s how he thinks.”

“And what do you think?”

“What I think is irrelevant. It won’t change his mind.”

“Is he getting any better? Is there any change?”

“He’s coping a lot better. He’s not as agitated. He doesn’t lose his temper as easily anymore and just fly off the handle. And we’re definitely do not fight as much as we used to.”

“But...” he takes a seat at the kitchen table. “...I sense a but coming on.”

“But...” she gathers the milk from the milk and a container of sugar from the counter, putting both down in the middle of the middle. “...he’s very...protective.”

“Of you?”

She nods.

“Pretty understandable. I mean, you guys have been through some messed up shit together,” he presses a kiss to a now sleeping Addie’s forehead and lays her along his thighs, a hand resting on her stomach to keep her in place. “He’s almost lost you twice. He doesn’t want there to be a third time. Any guy would be protective after going through what he’s gone through.”

“We’re not talking about what other guys would do. Let’s not pretend that Tyler is like other guys. How many of these other guys are...were...mercenaries.”

“Probably not many, but...”

“He isn’t protective like other men are protective. He’s over the top.   Protective to the extreme,” she gently scoops Addie up and places her in the infant swing across the room, covering her up with a receiving blanket and opening the sliding door to allow the cool breeze into the room.  

“I don’t think you can blame him for that,” Kyle reasons. “I mean, that’s a hell of a life he lived. And if he’s pissed that many people off and stepped on that many toes, he’s naturally going to worry about you.  He just wants to keep you safe. He loves you. He doesn’t want anything happening to you.”

“I don’t think you’re quite understanding the depth of his protectiveness,” she stands on her tip toes to snag two mugs from one of the cupboards, throwing a tea bag into each one and covering them with boiling water. “You’ve never seen Tyler in action. What he gets like. Especially when he’s having one of his ‘off days’.”

“Okay,” he takes one of the mugs from his sister and she slips into the chair across from him. “Enlighten me.”

“First, I’m not telling you all of this because I’m complaining about him. Because that’s not what this is. This is about loving him and being worried about him. That’s it.”

“I get that.”

“Second, you do not breathe a word of this to him.  If he knew I was telling you about these things, the shit would hit the fan. He doesn’t even like hearing what I have to say during therapy. And that’s with a professional. So if he finds out that I even mentioned all of this to you....”

“Your secret is safe with me. I promise. Did anyone ever find out about all those secrets we shared as kids? About the time we lit those firecrackers and threw them down Mister Johnson’s cistern? Or how about that time I caught you kissing Jennifer Parker behind the gym after field hockey practice in grade nine?”

“Oh my God,” Esme laughs, and presses her palm to her forehead. “Jennifer Parker. She was a grade eleven! I totally forgot about her. She was hot too. That nose ring and those dreads? I wonder what ever happened to her?”

“I saw her about a week ago, actually. She’s back in town. Married, three kids. Hooked up with a navy guy.”

“Navy,” Esme snorts, and pours milk into her tea. “She could do so much better.”

“Spoken like a true jarhead,” he teases, and reaches out to tousles her hair. “She asked about you, actually. I told her you were in Australia, married, almost half a dozen rug rats. Told me to tell you to look her up on Facebook.  She’d like to touch base.”

“Touch base, huh?” Esme smirks. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? I do enough ‘touching base’ around here, don’t you think? Isn’t five kids evidence of that?”

“You should look her up. She’d probably love to visit Australia. You know, you can give her a ‘personal tour’.”

“Okay, first of all, I would never, ever cheat on my husband. Second, that’s NOT the kind of marriage we have. And third, even if we did have that kind of marriage, I don’t share. I think you’re not completely understanding how this whole being bi things works, K. You watch way too much porn.”

“It’s completely innocent, I swear. You’re happy, she’s supposedly happy. You can be friends with an ex, you know.”

“Oh don’t you dare find some sneaky way to turn this into me kissing Nik’s ass and trying to be her friend again. Don’t push me, K. If that’s going to happen, it’s going to be on my terms. Not yours.”

“Fair enough. So back to this whole Tyler being protective thing.  What’s the deal? You don’t think he has a reason to be?”

“It’s not that. And I love that man to the ends of the earth and beyond and this isn’t me just bitching about him to bitch about him. This is a legitimate concern.”

“Okay,” Kyle sips his tea. “Go on.”

“First, he’s not like that all the time. He gets into these moods. He’s always been intense. You know that. You’ve seen how intense he can be.  Well this is Tyler’s usual intense times a hundred.  I don’t know who or what sets it off, but he honestly goes into mercenary mode. Like I’m one of the people he’s been hired to protect and get out of shitty situations. It’s not like I’m not even his wife anymore. It’s like I’m....I don’t even know...a mark. Does that make sense?”

"I think so.”

“And he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. I know he doesn’t. Because that’s how his brain works.  It convinces him there’s a threat and a reason to go into hard core protective mode. And part of me loves him for it. That he’s that intense about wanting to keep me safe. But there’s another part that can’t fucking stand it. Because I feel suffocated. Like I can’t even breathe.  I’m not used to being kept under lock and key, K. I’ve never been like that. I’ve always been independent. I’ve always been able to just come and go and take care of myself.”

He nods in agreement.

“It’s like I’m not even a person anymore. It’s like I’m a thing. Like a package he has to keep safe and sound. Do you know how dehumanizing that is? When you don’t even feel like a human being anymore? When you can’t even go into town on your own or meet people and make friends? It’s bullshit. And I get he doesn’t realize what he’s doing or that his brain is convincing him he has to be that way. It’s not his fault. I get that. But fuck, Kyle. I need a life. Outside of being a wife and a mother.”

“Have you ever actually brought his up to him or...?”

Esme nods and sips her tea, struggling to keep back the tears.  It’s frustration. Worry. Helplessness, almost.  “It doesn’t help. Because like I said, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it and doesn’t know just how bad it is.  And then I bring it up and he gets defensive and then I feel like a bad person for hurting his feelings. Which I am not trying to do. And this isn’t so much about me as it is about him. Because I’m worried about him.  Because sometimes it seems like he’s come so far and other times it feels like he’s either stuck where he is or he’s going backwards.  I don’t know what to do.  To help him.”

“What about this therapist you guys are seeing? The marriage counsellor or whatever.”

“We haven’t been since a month before Addie was born. Just because all of the problems I was having trying to get her where she was until she was healthy enough to make her appearance. But we’re going back next week. That should be interesting,” she snorts.  “He’s been so relieved he hasn’t had to go. I can just imagine what the first session back is going to be like.”

“I thought he was going on his own too. For the PTSD.”

“He is. But I don’t know what the hell he talks about when he’s there. I don’t go with him, so....” she shrugs, then drags her hand through her hair and places her elbow on the table, forehead resting on her palm. “.... I just don’t know what to do for him. And I can’t just sit back and let him struggle.  He’s trying so hard, K.  To put everything else behind him. To just concentrate on a normal life. On being a husband and a father. And he’s amazing at both of those things.  He really is.  I just thought it wouldn’t be this hard, I guess. That he’d be able to just walk away and leave everything else behind. But there’s so much in there; in his head. And it just won’t leave him alone.  It won’t let him rest.”

“You can only do so much, kid.  I know that’s not the answer you want to hear. And I wish I had something better to tell you. He just needs more time. It’s only been six months.  Half a year to get over things that have been adding up for what? Two decades? He hasn’t had the easiest go of it. It’s probably hard for him to get used to having a good life.  It’s not what he’s known, right? The job was his life. And then you came along, and everything changed. And that’s not a slight on you. I’m not saying you totally fucked him up even more. Because you coming along was a good thing. Probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

She snorts. “Sometimes I wonder about that.”

“I’m just saying that it’s going to take longer than six months to fix things. To fix him. And that’s not your job, Esme. Just because you’re his wife doesn’t mean it’s entirely up to you. He’s making the effort, right? To fix shit?”

She nods.

“And he’s got the therapist and doctors keeping an eye on him. You’re not the only one that is dealing with this. Stop trying to take it all on yourself. It’s hard, I know. You’ve always been the type to want to take on everything on your own. Even when we were kids. But you’ve got to worry about yourself too. You’ve got your own shit going on and you’ve got five little ones that need their mom to take care of herself. They want to see you happy and healthy.”

“I’m not their only parent,” she reminds him.  “I’m not doing this on my own. And I don’t want to do this on my own.”

“And he’s working on shit, right? He is getting better. Even if it’s slowly. Those kids deserve a mom and a dad that take care of themselves. Where would they be without either of you? Fucked. That’s where they’d be. Who’s going to take them if something happens to you guys? Tyler doesn’t have any family, I’m all the way on the other side of the world practically.”

“But you’d do it. If you had to.”

“Take the kids?  In a heartbeat.  No questions asked. But I can’t just run here whenever you’re having a hard time. I want to, but I can’t. You know that.”

“I know...” she runs the palms of her hands along the side of her mug. “...I just...I don’t know...I wish you were closer, that’s all.”

“Well you never know what could happen, right? After Nik and I tie the knot. Maybe this will be one of the places she wants to settle down in. We’ve been making a list. Talking about it a lot. Where we’d like to put down roots.”

“You wouldn’t stay in Colorado?”

“If that’s where she wants to be, sure.  But once you left, there wasn’t much there for me anymore. I’m the black sheep now. In the family. And to be honest, I kind of like it. Everyone leaves me the hell alone.  I don’t have to put up with anyone’s bullshit.  They just keep their distance and I’m good with it. So it wouldn’t really matter if I left. I’d pretty much follow her anyway.”

“Okay wait a second...” Esme laughs. “....is that the same shit you gave me hell for? Just taking off and starting a new life?”

“At least I’m giving everyone a warning and letting them get a chance to get used to it. You just did it. Which took some balls, by the way. That took huge balls. Just saying ‘fuck everything’ and sticking around for some guy you barely knew. And before you argue with me about that, fucking someone for five days is not really knowing them, so....”

She gives a sly smile. “That was one hell of a five days, let me tell you.”

“I know you ruffled a lot of feathers when you did you, but I was proud as hell. My kid sister just not giving a fuck about anyone or anything. That was a ballsy move. I was impressed. And you know who else would have been? Dad.”

“Dad would have been pissed and you know it. That I gave everything up for a man? Remember how he used to drill it into my head growing up that I needed to be strong and independent and rely on no one but myself? Because I remember that.”

“You were a teenager. His tone would have changed once you became an adult.”

“Well he didn’t get that far, did he,” she sighs, and fights back tears.

“He would have been so proud of you kid. For doing what you did. And for the life you’ve created for yourself. You can’t tell me he wouldn’t be. And those kids? He would have adored those kids and you know it.”

“I know,” her voice cracks and she swipes at the tears that manage to escape. “That’s the hardest part, you know. That he didn’t get to see them. Because he was so good with all his other grandkids. He got a chance to meet them and spend time with everyone else's kids. It’s not fair. That he didn’t get that chance with mine.”

“It does suck. It sucks huge. You were his first girl. That was a massive deal for him. A girl after all those boys? He would have been extra close to those kiddos. I know he would have.”

“I didn’t think it would bother me as much as it does,” she admits. “I mean, he’s been gone for twenty years now, K. And some days it hurts just as much now as it did then. Sometimes I’ll look at the kids and they’ll do something or say something that reminds me so much of him and I think ‘I should call him or send him a picture’. And then I remember that I can’t.  And that hurts. It hurts a lot.”

“I know,” he reaches out and rubs her arm comfortingly.  “Sometimes it comes up and bites me in the ass too.”

“Can you not talk about this?”  she sniffles and uses the sleeve of her sleeve of her swimsuit cover up to clear away the tears. “I really do not want to talk about this.”

He gives a sympathetic smile, then picks up her empty mug and shakes it. “More?”

She nods. “Thanks.”

They fall into a comfortable silence; Kyle moving easily around the kitchen as he prepares more tea and searches the cupboards and the fridge for something to eat. Settling on a large bowl of leftover fruit salad and a container of yogurt, preparing plates for both of them.  

“Holy domestic,” Esme teases, when he sets down the mug of tea and the plate of food.  

“Well it’s not like I had to actually cook anything or prepare it myself,” he points out, and drops into his chair once more.  “But I’ve been picking up some new skills. If I’m going to be a husband, I need to be able to more than just use a can opener or a microwave, I figure.”

“Especially since I know that Nik can’t cook for shit,” she laughs.

“Right? If there was a way to burn cereal, she would do it. If I eat another plate of half cooked pasta, I may snap.”

“But I bet you keep your mouth shut so you won’t hurt her feelings, right? Don’t worry. I get it. Tyler used to do the same thing. The first year was nothing but shitty meals. And he’d just sit there and suck it up and eat whatever I fed him. He was such a good sport. And it wasn’t bad enough to kill him, so...” she shrugs.  

“You guys have come a long way, that’s for sure.”

She nods in agreement.  

They don’t speak for several minutes; enjoying the view of the ocean and each other’s company and the little sounds that Addie makes her in sleep.

“You know mom’s sick, right?” Kyle pipes up.

“Denny called me just after Addie was born and told me.”  Denny. Daniel. The second oldest.  A state police officer with more ego than common sense and good taste.

“Yeah, he kind of took that over. I wanted to call you, but he insisted that he do it.  And once Denny gets set on something...”

“He’s a total dick,” Esme concludes. “He called and hung up twice because Tyler answered. Like, grow up.”

“Tyler scares the shit out of him. And Denny doesn’t scare easily.”

“Fuck, Denny. He called for one thing and then went off on a rant about me being so far away and only thinking about myself and how selfish and childish I am and blah blah blah.  I don’t need his shit. And I won’t put up with it. Tyler finally got on the phone and lost his shit on him. It was epic. And so perfect. I don’t think Denny will be phoning again for a quite a while.”

“He means well, but...”

“As Millie would say ‘he’s a dick head’.  But yes. He told me mom is sick. And? What do you want me to do about it?”

“You’re her daughter.”

“No. I’m not. I’m dead to her, remember? Those were her exact words. That if I stayed with Tyler, me and the kids were dead to her.”

“A lot of shitty things were said that night,” Kyle reasons.

“She’s been saying shitty things for years. Why does that one night surprise you so much?”

“You can’t carry that around forever, Esme. The things she’s said and done. You just can’t.”

“Really? You just watch me.  She’s toxic, K.  She wished death on my husband. That is not okay. That is far from okay. And I’m not going to be around someone like that. And I’m definitely not letting my kids be around something like that.”

“It’s bad, Esme. Worse than the doctors initially thought. That cancer’s metastasized. It’s spreading quick.  Alarmingly quick.”

“Not my problem, Kyle. I can’t do anything about it. I’m not a doctor.”

“She’s your mother.”

“She was never a mother and you know that. Stop making her out to be Carol Brady or June Cleaver. She’s more what Captain Spaulding from House of a Thousand Corpses would be like if he became a parent.”

“She wants to see you,” he says once again.

“Good for her. I’m not interested. She spoke her truth, Kyle. About how she feels about me and my husband and my kids. There’s no taking that back.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive her. Because what she said is unforgivable. I’m asking you to just go and see her and talk to her. Hear what she has to say.”

“That woman won’t have anything good to say to me. Even on her death bed.”

“Do you really want that on your conscience? Not going to see her before she dies? You really want to be holding onto that?”

“I’m not the one who should have a guilty conscience. I hope her conscience bothers her to her last breath. But I know it won’t. Because she has no conscience. She has no heart. She’s evil, Kyle. Always has been. And maybe this is karma. Maybe all her shit has finally caught up to her.”

He frowns. “That’s pretty harsh, don’t you think.”

“I said what I said,” she drops her fork onto her plate and stands up when Addie begins to fuss in the swing. “You won’t change my mind, Kyle. So you can stop while you’re ahead. Quit wasting your time.  I feel nothing towards her. And she deserves that.”

He sighs heavily. “Esme...”

“My mother died a long time ago,” she says, and carries Addie from the room.

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