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greenninjagal-blog · 3 years

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Deja Vecu

Hello, its been a while!! Please accept this release of the unpublished scene from Chapter Two of Deja Vu. Its basically 4k of Remus being gay for a stranger he keeps seeing die, and ain’t that a mood? :)

Summary: The Missing Scene in chapter 2 of Deja Vu, in which Remus agrees to help a stranger rob a casino.

Words: 4397

Read on Ao3 || Hero Worship Series || My General Writing Masterlist

At twenty-one years old, Remus finds out that robbing a casino is a lot less fun than Ocean’s Eleven led him to believe. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of security that went into protecting the chips and the cash on hand: following the path of the cash box from earlier, there’s two hired security guards framing the employee’s entrance, neither of whom like being touched nor can be persuaded to leave their posts together. There’s a card reader locking the door which despite looking like walnut wood, is actually steel with a clever paint job. And that’s just the first level.

“Predictable,” Dee says from where he had made himself comfortable on Remus’s bed with the complimentary note pad the hotel had supplied him. He had left his suit jacket on the desk to avoid the wrinkles but lounged on the foot of the bed without taking off his shoes. Remus had tossed himself down next to him, stretching out to gather all the pillows and built a throne for himself like he was eight instead of twenty-one.

Dee had watched him, back to wearing the face of the man who had approached him in the casino. Remus thinks he looks nice like that: hansom enough to please anyone who looked his way and charming enough to disarm anyone who might have seen him as out of place and forgettable enough that Remus couldn’t remember if they had gambled together previously.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Remus had pointed out. “I know what the real you looks like.”

Dee’s pen digs into the paper a little harder than necessary and Remus pretends he hadn’t noticed. The smile he receives is light and joking but it doesn’t meet his eyes at all. “I happened to like this appearance.”

Remus hums, “Lame. The scales are cool.” But he had let it drop in favor of twisting the purple casino chip between his fingers.

Dee taps his pen on the comforter in thought, his borrowed blue eyes distant as he mulled over Remus’s reports from futures that won’t happen. “What else did you notice?”

“Tessa isn’t your wife anymore, Danny.”

Dee snorts, which, by all means, should not be as graceful and elegant as he makes it seem. There’s a fluidity to the way he dips his head and scribbled on the pad of paper that makes him looks dignified. Or maybe that’s just the angle that Remus is looking at him with. A lock of his dark hair slips into his eyes and he brushes it back with two gloved fingers.

Remus falls back against the stack of pillows he had built around himself, breathing deeply and settling himself. The air smells like the lemon cleaner that the hotel staff had used to clean his room earlier when Remus had been out and about, but there’s hints of something else—something sweet and spicy with an undertone of wood.

--Dee blinks at the question, shifting so that he’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his palm. “I wonder,” He says, with eyes so bright and blue and innocent that Remus feels like he’s stuck in them, “if you mean the Cardamom scent from my aftershave.” And Remus’s heart beats just a little faster, a little harder, a little more.—

“When I ask what else you notice,” Dee says, drawing Remus back to the present, “I meant your other senses. You’ve told me about what you’ve seen. What about sounds? The smells? You said you experience this as a first-person thing, correct?”

Remus waves a hand. “Its both. I’m there in person but I’m also having an out of body experience, too.”

Dee squints. “Doesn’t that…get confusing? How can you interpret all the stimuli at once?”

“Stimuli! What, are you a scientist in your free time?” Remus mocks, but Dee’s shoulders tense at the insinuation.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He says, “I was just curious.” He’s not, though. Remus isn’t quite sure how he knows, but Dee’s curiosity is more than just a simple question. It feels like it’s more, like he’s gathering information and sorting it away for later, like he’s making decisions based on Remus’s answers that have nothing to do with the how they are going to get into a Vault protected by a six digit code that only three people have and then get back out with more money than they can physically carry.

“Shame,” Remus says, feeling the shift in the bed as Dee’s shoulders unwind. “If you were a scientist you could dissect me for all the goodies inside! Of course, you can do that without being a scientist, too, but it’s not as fun.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?”

Remus flips the coin in the air and catches it with the same hand. It comes up heads. “Why, does that scare you?”

Dee watches him, the pen absently twirling in the air between them. Remus can feel the weight of his gaze like a physical thing, pressing on his chest and making him self conscious of exactly how many breathes he’s been taking. The cotton comforter has a square pattern on it that he hadn’t noticed before, but he can count only three squares between the two of them. For some reason that information feels important.

“No,” Dee says after another moment passes and the air simmers. “I supposed it concerns me.”

Remus swallows the urge to laugh at his face.

“You just seem to be a useful person,” Dee continues, defensively. “I would hate to see that usefulness be squandered.”

This time Remus does laugh and it’s a bumbling bubbling burst of noise in their quiet world. His lungs shake and his heart hurts, but he laughs and something about it makes Dee’s smile softly too. The air is light, but there’s an underlying tension there, lurking in the shadows and reminding Remus that for all the dashing good looks and the semi honest expressions, the man before him is a stranger wearing a borrowed face and absolutely no one would miss him if he disappeared.

He flips the coin again, watching it roll over itself too many times to count, bounce off his hand and then flop to a stop direction between the two of them. Dee pokes it with the butt of his pen, like he was expecting it to get up and walk away.

“To answer your question,” Remus says, breathing in deeply enough to smell his cardamom aftershave and wondering why no one else in his twenty-one years of living had thought to ask him. “Seeing the future does get confusing. But it’s whatever. It never causes anything worse than a nosebleed.”

Dee hums and scribbles something down on his notepad. If Remus sat up just slightly, he would be able to see it, but he finds he likes the mystery more. Was it notes to use against him? Or was it things to think about in the future? Or was it still the colossal list of numbers they weren’t even a fraction of the way through?

--They manage to draw the guard’s attention away with a faked emergency: Remus never put stock in his own acting skills so he stumbles and falls on another patron and lets his head crack against the corner of the a craps table just far enough away that the guards are drawn the few steps over to check on both of them. Remus doesn’t bother responding to any of their prompts until Dee with the face of Tim the dealer swipes his borrowed card and lets the door behind him close. They had radios from the same place where Dee had procured the keycard from, and Remus thinks he could fall asleep listening to Dee’s breaths.

“Left, right, or center?” Dee asks.

“Left,” Remus hums, watching the casino patrons around him. A woman in her thirties just won at a baccarat table and tried to kiss the dealer. “There’s a camera at around the corner, but it roves. Your future self said to wait five seconds then go.”

Remus waves down a waitress and orders a mojito while he waits. Dee gives soft laugh at the concept and Remus tries to calm his nerves.

“You’re so uptight,” He says softly, almost to the point where Remus can’t hear him over the chattering of other people. “Relax a little, Remus. It’s just my life.”

“The Elevator code is 7-1-3-2,” Remus tells him. “And you’re going to want change your pretty little face to someone of a higher ranking on the casino hierarchy unless you want Terry Benedict to know what we’re up to.”

Remus holds his breath as the elevator dings, and then as Dee repeats the code as he types it in, and then as the doors rumble closed. He twists the glass of his drink when it comes as he listens for the subtle clues on how far Dee is inside the belly of the beast. It takes him a moment to realize that Dee is humming softly, and his lips twist into a smile without his permission.

There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his mojito and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. She’s still going to lose so Remus finds himself more entertained by trying to extract the lime from his drink than from watching her pout yet again when the ball lands on the red 36.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t understand how he does it. He glances down at the piece of paper in his hand and reads off the six-digit combination that was next on their list.

“5-1-3-2-7-6,” Remus presses a hand to his earpiece, listening as closely as he can. His breath shortens with each second, crafting infinities out of each passing tick. He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like a guillotine that’s cut their mission off a hundred-some times before.

“Hey man you, okay?” The person with Dee asks, less out of curiosity and more out of suspicion.

“Yes sorry my finger slipped,” Dee says quickly and punches in the next number in ascending order out of blind hope that it might be the correct one but it isn’t and Remus knows it because that’s when the person next to Dee asks him to back away and demands to know who he is and Dee’s placating answers are never enough so he tries to shift but bullets are faster than he is and Remus rips out his ear piece right before the gun goes—

“Another bust,” Dee sighs, drawing a snake on the corner of his paper. “Somehow I feel like we could win more playing on the casino floor than doing this….” He trails, off eyes distant again, thinking more about money than about the number of deaths Remus has witnessed.

It seems strange, that Remus would care so much more about that then he does, but in a way that doesn’t surprise him. Its Death with a capital ‘D’ and in Remus’s twenty-one years of experience, the only people who feared death were those who were aware of how close it was. Remus was practically best friends with Death, with the taste of the asphalt on the highway, with the feeling of a free fall, with the awkward fit of a hotel bathtub. He’s familiar with the cold silver of fear, but it doesn’t make him any less afraid.

Dee knows he keeps dying, though. Dying alone, deep inside a labyrinth of a building and Remus wonders if he should stop this while he’s ahead. He knows once that half hour mark hits in the future there’s no more Dee to be waiting for, no pay out. Just the pain of seeing a swarm of S.W.A.T. officers covertly weave between the patrons and leave with a human sized black bag. But Remus still waits and watches, holding dutiful vigil over a fruitless endeavor and letting hope build just for it to shatter with reality.

“Why does this mean so much to you?” Remus asks, somewhere between the fifteenth and the hundred fiftieth casino themed wake procession. His eyes burn a little, and he tries to tell himself it’s just the brightness of lights.

“Money is everything,” Dee marks the next two number off his list on his notebook and talks without listening to his own words. Its not fair that he sounds so convinced it’s true, when his mouth moves like he’s practiced this in the mirror. “What about you? Why do you continue to watch?”

Remus sinks back on his pillows, holding on to that faint scent of wood and spice and the feeling in his gut that comes from every time Dee listens to his advice from the future, from every time Dee listens and adheres, from every times Dee just believes.

Remus wonders how so much trust could be from this stranger who’s known him for an hour or two, and yet Roman had never been able to just accept what he said without an argument. He sounds crazy when he talks about what will happen, but Dee just nods and lets his lips twitch into a smile when handing him a roll of toilet paper.

Remus rips off another length the cheap paper and folds its in half before shoving it on his face. There’s blood in his mustache, which is frustrating and tastes just as gross as all the other times he’s had blood dripping down his chin.

“Remus,” Dee says, without looking up from his notepad.

“Yes, dearest stranger taking up half my bed?” He inhales hard.

“This is a fourth, at most.”

“Tomayto-tomahto.”

Dee shoots him a look that he can just barely make out around the clomps of flimsy paper he’s holding to his face. He looks like he’s trying not to be amused. Which is funny! Because, well, Remus can’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t related to him was in his company long enough to find him amusing.

“Why are you doing this?” Dee asks. “Other than the money, which we agreed would be a fifty-fifty split, regardless of how much we manage to walk out of here with….but somehow I don’t see money being enough for you to watch me die over and over again. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped me from lunging for that cash box.”

Remus is twenty-one when he shrugs and says, “It’s something to do.”

Dee huffs another dazzling laugh and for a moment Remus thinks he can see a flash of sharpened teeth in that smile, fangs like a vampire come to life, but it’s too fast for him to be sure. “Ah, I see we’re both liars tonight. Ready for the next attempt?”

Remus wonders if it’s still lying when its technically the truth. He’s doing this because its time spent with this shapeshifting sham, this enlightening enigma, this confusing con artist who lies as easily as breathing. Remus has a hard time believing anything personal he says is true, and yet he finds himself eyeing the three squared spaces on the comforter again wondering if it would be too much to make it two, one, none.

For someone who trusts Remus to see the future seven billions times as they try to figure out the vault code, who follows every direction Remus gives without hesitation, who continues to act as if Death is not something that can happen to him, he is extraordinarily hard to trust in return. Words are meaningless because he flaunts them, and Remus grew up watching Roman practice lines enough to know when someone was acting. Dee probably isn’t even his real name.

But Remus…Remus hasn’t been seen the way that Dee sees him before. Isn’t that enough for him to want to spend as long as he can with this stranger? Regardless of the danger Dee is running straight into? Regardless of the slight thrill that he gets from the prospect that they might get away with this?

-- There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his chocolate martini and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. He knows from all the other times he’s watched that she loses, although as he peaks over at the numbers she’s never far off. It must be that excitement of the near win that keeps her there.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t still understand how he does it.

“5-1-3-3-4-1.”

He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like the bells of victory when the code is right, holy shit. The Code was right. Dee’s breath catches in his throat, and Remus nearly drops his martini on the floor. His heart races in his chest with an emotion that he can’t quiet put a name too.

They did it.

They…won. Remus makes his way towards the doors where they were set to meet back up, and Dee continues a casual conversation with the armed guard about children as he fills both his briefcases with as much money as he can fit. By the breathless excitement in his voice, Remus can guess there’s more money in front of him than he expected to be able to get. He invites the guard over for family dinner next night because he’s an asshole and Remus finds that quality admirable.

He waves down a waitress to get a second drink, Dee’s celebratory drink, because as soon as he got past the doors they were home free-

“Hey! Hey! Stop him!” A voice yells in Dee’s ear and the shapeshifter curses.

“Remus!” He yells, “The executive is in the halls! He-!”

There’s a gunshot and a thud and Remus rips out his earpiece and screams loud enough to make all the nearest games freeze in their tracks—

“Let me guess,” Dee says, rolling over, “Another bust? The next numbers ar—”

“No,” Remus throws himself into a sitting position, and blindly grabbing for more toilet paper. The back of his throat is slick with a metallic taste and his head spins a bit when he tries to stand up. “No, Dee!”

“No?”

“Dee, we did it! That’s the code,” Remus says, pretending like his knees don’t buckle when the floor rolls under his feet. Dee is there in a moment, hands under his arms and holding him up completely. Its almost like a hug, Remus thinks distantly. He’s twenty-one and he can’t remember the last time someone hugged him even as a joke. His skin itches at the contact, blistering and burning at the warmth of someone else being so close to him. The cardamom scent is so strong, but Remus thinks he might be okay if that was the only thing he smelled for the rest of his life.

“Are you…okay?” Dee asks. “Why are you…?”

Remus uses the back of his hand to wipe away the stream of blood from his nose and inhales hard. “You died again. The executive you choose to impersonate is in the building and you run into him right before getting out with the cash.”

“Who was it? I can change into someone else.”

Remus shakes his head. “Oh no. I’ve got no clue, but if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s get someone’s attention.”

Dee grins, “You certainly got mine. What are you going to do?”

Remus slides his weight back and manages to stand on his own legs. Remus’s heart does a dance routine in his chest, moving like if it slows for even a second Dee will lunge forward and rip it from his body.

Remus tells him, “I’m going to go make a girl win at roulette so much they think she’s cheating. With a hundred thousand dollars on the line that should have their attentions, right?”

It’s not really a question. Remus knows from experience that the more games in a row that you win during a game involving so much luck, the more interest people start to take in it and you. He just needs to convince the girl to bet only where he tells her to, and then bet as much as she can.

He knows how to do it, too: simply walk up to her and offer her a free Barney if she bets on the square he tells her too. Once she wins, he tells her the next one, and maybe she puts a nickel down, or a quarter, just in case he’s wrong. When she wins again, he’ll tell her the next number, and she’ll put more on it. Then more. Then more. She doesn’t even need to believe that he can see the future. She just has to reap the rewards.

“Oh,” Dee says staring at him. “Oh.”

Remus isn’t sure what he’s looking at. He just knows that Dee’s eyes are as blue as the ocean and deeper than anything he’s ever drowned in. He’s looking at Remus again, like this is the first time he’s seeing him in this lighting, and when he smiles, his teeth are definitely sharper than before.

“I do believe,” Dee says, “we could make the best team of thieves there is out here.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” Remus asks. “Come on. I didn’t listen to you die nine hundred times just for you to chicken out now.”

He grabs his jacket, and buttons it. With a swipe of his hands he’s hair sets back in the position before, like some type of magic act. If Dee’s the magician, Remus thinks he would be honored to be in the front row every time he performs.

“So, you’d be up to doing this again, correct?” Dee asks, with his hand on the doorknob.

“They won’t fall for the same trick twice,” Remus says, “And what makes you think that this is something I enjoy?”

“I didn’t ask if you enjoyed it. I asked if you’d do this again. Not here, but somewhere else.” Dee glances at him, side eyeing him in a way that makes the hair on the back of Remus’s neck stand on end. “You still owe me.”

“What?” Remus turns to face him, and if there’s a spark in his chest, a nudge of excitement, well who can blame him? People don’t usually want him to stay around.

Another step in the hall. “We made a deal, unless you’ve forgotten. You said that if I could figure out how you were cheating, you’d do one thing that I want you to do.”

Remus snorted and motioned between them, “What do you call this? What we’ve been doing for the past hour?”

“This?” The man gives him a shark-like smile, “You did this of your own volition!”

“I seem to recall you asking,” Remus challenges.

Dee shakes his head too innocently. “Not in this timeline.” He pulls out his pale-yellow handkerchief and offers it to him, “You still have blood on your face by the way.”

There’s something nice about the way that this man is looking at him, the way he’s still looking at him, like Remus is something more than a nuisance, more than a distraction, more than an unwanted, frustrating intrusion. It makes his knees weak and the back of his throat taste like blood again and he so desperately wants to look to the future but won’t let himself do it.

“What do you want?” Remus says, because the uncharacteristic fear in his chest is slowly turning all his organs to butterflies and he never goes back on a promise.

“Well, you did say anything I wanted right? Anything at all?”

Remus nods, rolling his finger over the snake design on the stolen poker chip. Suddenly there doesn’t seem to be enough air in the world, and he’s afraid if he inhales too deeply trying to get more, the whole reality will shatter.

Dee’s form shimmers, shivers, and dissolves into Tim the dealer as they wait for the elevator to take them back to the casino floor. It’s an entirely different person but when he looks at Remus all he can see is Dee’s expression.

“Well, Remus,” He says, “After we finish up here, I want you to come with me. Work with me a bit. Let me help you amass a bit of a fortune. Strictly professional, of course. I won’t ask about your past and you don’t ask about mine. We don’t even need to be friends! Just…”

Dee offers out a gloved hand to him. “Business partners?”

Remus is twenty-one and he thinks there might be a timeline out there where he says no, but he doesn’t even entertain that thought.

“Business Partners,” He says and shakes on it.

#Demus #sanders sides #janus sanders #remus sanders #deja vu au #robbing a casino for your mental health #Oceans eleven references because I love that movie #superpowers #Remus from before things get bad #tw: temporary death #Remus can see the future #Janus can shapeshift #Everything is GREAT :)

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hollie47 · 6 years

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Red Queen: Frozen In Time, Chapter 6

Chapter: 6/18

Word Count: 3,248

ff.net | Ao3

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The darkness of the night fell quickly, grey clouds rolled in looking heavy with rain. Regina, Ruby and Henry sat quietly in the car driving down the main road, the headlights illuminating their way, reflecting off the trace amounts of snow left on sidewalks. The dashboard read 7:40 p.m. They turned the corner, pulling up outside of Granny’s.

Putting the car into park, Regina got out and opened Henry’s door. Walking him inside the building she handed him over to Granny for a night of cake decorating. Heading back out to the car, Regina got in and let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong Regina?” Ruby asked, sensing that something was bothering her partner.

“I’m just not sure how we’re going to go about this whole Sidney mess, I’m having like a thing in my chest and it’s weird,” Regina replied, not knowing how to describe it.

“I think you’re feeling nervous or anxious or both about confronting Sidney. What does the thing in your chest feel like?”

“It feels like something has dropped into it I think, I don’t want you to get hurt,” Regina admitted, blushing slightly.

“Regina, baby, I think you’re scared, worried, nervous, and anxious. It’s okay to feel those things, they’re normal,” Ruby softly said, gently squeezing the shorter woman’s thigh.

“I feel weak, I was always told that feelings blind your judgement and make you a weaker person than what you are when you have no heart,” Regina replied, not making eye contact.

“Feelings give you strength, they may seem like a problem but in the end when you draw on them they help you to make the right choices. Having a heart is such a strength as it allows you to feel love and it makes you whole. I know in my heart that I love you,” Ruby said, placing Regina’s hand over her heart.

“I love you too, Ruby, my heart says so,” Regina replied, leaning across the centre console and softly kissing the taller woman.

“If only we could climb into the backseat and kiss all night,” Ruby said, sitting back in her seat as Regina started the car.

“If only we didn’t have other things to do,” Regina responded, turning the indicator on before entering the correct lane.

“I know, so our plan is basically that you call Sidney, ask him to meet you at the hospital down in the psychiatric ward, you chat, I sneak up on him, jab him with a syringe full of anaesthetic and once he drops we lock him up in a room so he won’t try to hurt anyone.” Winding down her window slightly, Ruby took a deep breath in.

“That’s the plan since you disapprove of all my other plans. And once we know we’re safe I’ll see if any of the potions I brought over with me from the Enchanted Forest can wipe his memory of the last six months so we can release him and not cause a scene within the town,” Regina said, speeding up to go through a yellow light which turned red before she got to it.

“Your other plans involved torture and death. And did our Madam Mayor just break the law?” Ruby joked, earning a glare from the woman next to her.

“Apparently so, no one is to know of this,” Regina said, hoping no one else saw.

“Oh Regina, honey, Henry and Granny will know by tomorrow night,” Ruby laughed, finally knowing she wasn’t the only one who had gone through a red light.

“If they find out I’ll tell Granny exactly how her granddaughter cons others into doing her shifts,” Regina smirked, knowing that Ruby was glaring at her.

“I could say that if she finds out our sweet and lovely mayor won’t be getting free chocolate cake brought home at least once a week which would then make Henry a very sad little boy,” Ruby smiled, knowing she had won.

“And they think I’m the evil one,” Regina muttered under her breath.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Looking out the window, Ruby watched the buildings went by her; barely anyone was walking the streets. There were a few men in an alleyway tossing out garbage but that was it.

The drive to the hospital was silent as both women went over the plan in their heads, trying to perfect their parts. Trees blew in the wind as the rain started to sprinkle down. The hospital sign glowed against the darkened sky. Pulling into the parking lot under the building, Regina slowly drove around it to make sure that no one was lurking in the shadows. Pulling into the closest spot next to the elevators, they both got out of the car and stood in front of the closed metal doors, pressing the up button.

“Regina, no matter what happens I want you to know I love you,” Ruby said, pulling the shorter woman in for a tight hug.

“I love you too, Ruby,” Regina replied, relaxing into the embrace.

Hearing the elevator ding signalling its arrival they pulled apart and got into the lift. Pulling a card out of her handbag, Regina swiped it on the pad and hit the button ‘B3’.

“Is that where the cells are?”

“It is, we’re going the quick way, Sidney will need to go in via the front entrance and use the stairs to get to where we are going.”

Feeling the elevator stop, the door swished open and they exited. Leading the way, Regina walked down the corridor with Ruby following close behind taking the time to admire the shorter woman’s derriere.

Passing a sign on the wall indicating where everything was, Ruby made sure they were headed towards the psychiatric ward. She knew Regina would never admit to making a mistake or getting lost and with so little time available she wanted to make certain of their way. Watching Regina push open a large door they entered a sterile waiting room.

“Hello Mayor Mills, how can I be of help?” The nurse at reception asked.

“Hi Myrtle, I’m here to do a news piece to get more funding for this ward as we previously discussed. When Sidney gets here can you please show him to the waiting corridor?” Regina asked, smiling at the woman.

“Of course, here is the item you requested,” Myrtle responded, handing Regina a kidney dish containing a syringe.

“Thank you,” Regina said, walking down the corridor to the right, indicating for Ruby to follow.

“Does Myrtle know our plan? Or does she think that Sidney is coming here for a report?” Ruby asked, not understanding what just happened.

“Myrtle knows of our plan. She’s a lovely lady when she’s on the right side, my side. She doesn’t have her memories but the curse affected her differently and she remembers everything that happens, she doesn’t have the haze and that makes her a valuable asset to us,” Regina replied, coming to a T intersection in the corridor.

“Okay and what room shall I wait in until it’s time?” Ruby asked feeling uneasy in the corridor as one of the lights flickered.

“The room here at the end, it has blinds that will conceal you so Sidney won’t know you’re here,” Regina replied, walking up to the room and turning the light on.

Placing the kidney dish on the overbed table, Regina moved it under the window so it couldn’t be seen. “I need to call Sidney; I think we have an hour at most.”

“Maybe an hour and a half if Granny lets Henry choose the decoration style,” Ruby offered up, watching as Regina pulled out her cell phone.

“Hopefully.” Opening her contacts list, Regina scrolled down to Sidney’s name and hit call.

The phone rang four times before Regina began to tap her foot impatiently waiting for her call to be answered.

“Madam Mayor, what do I owe for this delightful phone call.”

“Sidney, hi, I’m currently down at the hospital and I want you to run an article in the paper so we can get more funding for the departments that need better servicing and equipment to help out our small town. I want you to meet me here ASAP.” Regina knew if she asked Sidney to jump he would ask how high.

“Okay Madam Mayor, I’ll grab my camera and leave right away, where shall I meet you?”

“I’m on underground level three where the psychiatric ward is at the hospital, it is the ward which needs our help the most, Myrtle at reception will help you when you get here.” Hanging up the phone Regina let out a loud sigh as she placed it back in her pocket.

“He’s coming?”

“He is.” Running her hand through her hair Regina felt scared, she had never locked someone away without her powers right there to get her what she wanted. Everyone else in lock up was placed there by nurses with her watching.

“Okay, good. It’s going to go to plan; luckily I have my strength and no matter what Sidney won’t be able to overpower me. We have this,” Ruby said, pulling Regina in close to her, reassuring them both.

“I don’t like not being able to help much,” Regina admitted, looking into bright green eyes.

“You’re helping plenty, just not in the way you’re used to. How about we go over the plan once more and you show me where to go straight after he’s out cold?” Ruby suggested, getting Regina back on track.

Going over their plan and what to do straight after, Regina walked them up another corridor and showed Ruby to a door that had a ‘Do Not Enter’ warning on it. Regina told Ruby that that’s where the cells are and that only two people have a card to access it.

They headed back out towards the corridor where the room was, there was a row of hard, plastic chairs under the flickering light, the walls had paint peeling off them and it looked miserable.

“Sidney should be here in about five to ten minutes, maybe we should get into position,” Ruby suggested, looking at Regina.

“I think you’re right,” Regina agreed, leaning in quickly to kiss the taller woman before sitting down on the hard chairs.

Ruby walked into the room, leaving the door wide open, and picked up the syringe, holding it securely as she turned off the light and hid in the shadows. Her vision quickly adjusted to the darkness, allowing her to see what was around her.

It didn’t take long before Ruby’s hearing picked up the distinctive male voice of one Sidney Glass, she took an extra step back just in case and waited for her queue to subdue the man.

“Just down here, Mr. Glass.” Regina heard Myrtle leading the man toward her and she took in a deep breath and prepared herself.

“Madam Mayor, how are you?” Sidney beamed, greeting Regina.

“I’m good,” Regina replied, nodding at Myrtle to let her know she wasn’t needed any more. “I called you here as I wanted you to run a story about how the psychiatric ward needs serious funding and for that to go ahead we need to convince the rest of the members of Town Hall.”

“By the looks of it, with the right photos and a well written article we may just convince them. I can see that the floor is cracked, the walls are peeling, the light fittings are inadequate and half of them are blown. On my way in I also noticed that two rooms were missing their doors,” Sidney said, looking around the hallway.

“Hopefully the article will get enough attention so we can upgrade the care facilities here,” Regina replied, watching as Sidney took a photo of the flickering light on the ceiling.

“So, while I do this, how was your day Madam Mayor?

“My day was okay, I worked from home, found a note on my front door, picked up my son from school, had dinner with him then dropped him off at the diner to help Granny decorate cakes,” Regina responded, trying to sound like she had an ordinary day.

“Oh someone left you a note did they? Did they tell you how beautiful you are because, your Majesty, you are absolutely stunning,” Sidney said, stepping closer to Regina.

“What did you just call me?” Regina asked, pretending she had no idea what he was talking about.

“Your majesty, you remember the Enchanted Forest, we were in love,” Sidney tried, grabbing hold of Regina’s arm.

“I have no idea what you’re on about, let go of me. Were you the one who tried to kill me, who left notes on my door,” Regina asked, feeling herself recoil at the touch of Sidney’s hand on her arm, only for him to grab hold tighter.

“I only did it because no one is good enough for you my Queen, no one but me. I was trying to cleanse Town Hall so we could take over the town together and rule. That waitress is nothing compared to me, she will never love you like I love you, let me get rid of her so we can be together, forever,” Sidney pleaded, holding tighter onto Regina.

“Let me go,” Regina repeated, looking up to see Ruby walking up to Sidney, syringe uncapped and ready.

Jabbing Sidney in the arm with the needle, Ruby quickly pushed the plunger down, injecting the entirety of the contents into the man before throwing it onto one of the chairs. “Get your filthy hands off my girlfriend,” she snarled, pulling Sidney off Regina and dropping him onto the floor.

Stepping over Sidney, Ruby pulled Regina into a hug and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Are you okay baby?”

“I’m okay, I didn’t expect him to grab me, it kind of scared me, my arm hurts,” Regina admitted, resting her head on Ruby’s chest, listening to her heartbeat.

“You’re safe now he can’t hurt you again,” Ruby soothed, placing another soft kiss on Regina’s head. “Can I see your arm?”

Letting go of Ruby, Regina stepped back and showed the taller woman her arm.

“It’s very red, it might bruise,” Ruby frowned, placing the gentlest kiss she could on Regina’s arm.

“Let’s get Sidney into the cells so we can get Henry and head home,” Regina said, stepping over the unconscious form on the floor.

“I like that plan, lead the way,” Ruby replied, grabbing hold of Sidney’s wrist and easily dragging him across the floor and up the corridor, making sure not to take care.

Stopping in front of the door that leads to the cells, Regina inserted a key into the lock and turned it, opening the door. Turning the hallway light on, Regina led them to an empty room, covered in padding.

Dragging Sidney into the room, Ruby dumped him onto the floor and exited the room with Regina. “Hopefully he enjoys his stay,” Ruby said, angry that he hurt Regina.

“How about we go now, he’s put away,” Regina replied, locking the door from the outside. Exiting the cells, Regina locked the entrance door behind them and headed toward reception.

“Room three in lockdown?” Myrtle asked, smiling at them.

“Yes, room three,” Regina replied, watching as Myrtle added the name John Doe to the patient board. “Thank you, Myrtle,” Regina added, offering the woman a small smile.

“My pleasure, have a good night Madam Mayor and Miss. Lucas,” Myrtle said, picking up some patient charts.

Exiting the reception area, Ruby and Regina silently walked down the corridors and back to the elevator. Pressing the button for the car park level, the elevator shuddered slightly before ascending and letting them out.

“How long were we there for?” Regina asked, unlocking the car and getting in.

“About forty minutes I guess,” Ruby replied, putting on her seatbelt. “Should I call Granny and ask how much longer the cake decorating will be?”

“Please,” Regina replied, wanting to know how long they had.

Calling Granny, Ruby put her phone on speaker.

“Hello, grandchild.”

“Hi Granny, Regina and I were just wondering how the decorating is going?”

“It’s going well, we finished about twenty minutes ago, you two have been gone for over an hour and a half.”

“We’re sorry Granny, we didn’t realise it was that long,” Ruby apologised, checking the clock on the dashboard.

“It’s okay, Henry was getting tired so he’s asleep in one of the spare rooms upstairs. I can wake him or if you two would like the night to yourselves he can stay here.”

“If he’s asleep I’d rather not wake him,” Regina said, thankful that Granny was happy to watch her son.

“Then you two can enjoy a quiet night and Miss. Mills, I expect you to respect my granddaughter in every way, have a good night.”

Looking at her phone, Ruby coughed to clear her throat. “I think we can safely assume Granny knows about us.”

“She definitely does.” Driving to her house on Mifflin, the roads were quiet and the rain was still lightly sprinkling, with no sign of snow. All traffic lights were thankfully green.

“I think I need a hot shower and a good night’s sleep,” Ruby said as they pulled into the driveway.

“I do too,” Regina agreed, getting out of the car and walking to the front door.

Entering the house, Ruby kicked her shoes off and took Regina’s handbag off her and placed it on the table. Heading toward the living room where she saw Regina head to, she walked in and took the shorter woman by the hand and led her to the bathroom. Taking off their dirty clothes, Ruby turned the hot water on and added some cold, fixing the temperature to how Regina liked it.

Getting into the shower, Ruby gently guided Regina under the spray of water and softly rubbed the shorter woman’s back, massaging her shoulders.

“That feels really good,” Regina moaned, resting her head against the tiled wall.

“Good, you need to relax,” Ruby replied, continuing to massage her partner.

Getting some honeydew scented shower gel onto her hands Ruby rubbed it into Regina’s back working out the knots around her shoulder blades. Finishing up the massage, they washed themselves, rinsed off, and got out, drying themselves off in the bathroom.

Heading into their bedroom, Ruby laid down on the bed and pulled Regina into her arms. Regina snuggled into the taller woman’s side and ran her hand over the smooth surface of Ruby’s stomach, running her fingers along her sides, and dangerously close to her centre.

“If you keep that up I may just have to pin you beneath me and kiss you,” Ruby smirked, enjoying the sensations running through her body.

“Maybe I want you to do just that and maybe something more,” Regina replied, gently running her nails over Ruby’s sides and lower stomach, purposely resting her hand just above the green eyed woman’s pubic bone.

Sliding Regina onto her back, Ruby straddled her and leant down, teasingly pulling back a few times before finally placing a soft kiss onto Regina’s lips.

“Just how I like it,” Regina smiled, her eyes closed as she drank in the feeling of Ruby’s naked body against hers.

Leaning behind her, Ruby pulled the sheet up and over them as she giggled and started to kiss Regina wanting to share an intimate night with the woman she loved.

#Red Queen OUAT #Red Queen #Regina Mills #Ruby Lucas #Once Upon A Time #ouat #ruby x regina #Regina x Ruby

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khaleesi-in-the-north · 7 years

Text

In The Crosshairs 16/?

@lanasexuall

A few days later, Margaery still hasn’t heard back from Cersei about a new interview date. Still, she tries to maintain her patience. It’s only been a few days since Joffrey’s funeral.

Cersei’s youngest son had invited her to the ceremony. For a couple days Margaery went back and forth on whether she should attend. It was a private ceremony, closed to press and the general public. Under normal circumstances, she would follow Jorah’s ethical rulebook, which dictated avoidance of such a clash of personal affilitation, unquestioningly. These weren’t normal circumstances. Attendance could prove to Cersei that she saw Joffrey as a real person, not just a source for an interesting feature article.

In the end, Margaery did go. Tommen Baratheon had greeted her and introduced her to the rest of his family. Myrcella was kind and sweet enough. Surely the two of them were adopted children, because they couldn’t possibly have been related to Joffrey.

The rest of the Baratheon and Lannister brood treated her indifferently. Quick handshakes, a ‘thank you’, and she was forgotten.

During the ceremony, she had caught glimpses of Cersei. Once crying over her son’s casket, once yelling at the Septon for mispronouncing Joffrey’s name, and once speaking fastidiously with an oddly feminine looking blond boy. Long yellow locks framed his face. He almost looked like a younger Cersei, save for the pathetic attempt at mustache.

She watched as Cersei glanced in her direction, then guided the apparent Lannister boy across the yard.

After the rest of the mourners departed, She found Cersei on the steps of the Sept. Shades of deep orange and purple lined the horizon as the sun set.

“Ms. Lannister,” Margaery had called.

Cersei turned. She had removed the black hat and veil she wore earlier that matched her slim black dress. “Ms. Tyrell. I didn’t know you had come.” A lie.

“I know I only knew Joffrey for several short weeks, but I still wanted to say my goodbyes. He made such an impact on me during a short time,” Margaery had said.

Cersei folded her hands together and glanced to the street. “Yes, he was apt to make quick impressions. Jaime told me of your well wishes at the tourney earlier this week.”

“I wanted you to know that I do care the well-being of you and your family, Ms. Lannister. Joffrey was more than a means to an end,” Margaery said.

Cersei looked down. “It is much appreciated, Ms. Tyrell.” She watched Cersei clench her fingers righter around each other. A black limo stopped at the bottom of the steps. “If you’ll pardon me, I must be going now. I have family and Joffrey’s loved ones to attend to.”

She didn’t glance back as she got in the limo and rode away.

Without any word from Cersei, it was a waiting game. A game which Margaery is currently losing.

She paces back and forth between her desk and Renly’s. “Really, what’s to stop us from just showing up at her house and asking for an on the spot interview? You’ve got your camera. Hook me up to a mic and we can catch it all on video.”

Renly sips his coffee. “I would, but I’d rather not have my equipment smashed by one of those security guards.”

“You know they’re not security. They’re the goons that do her hit work for her. Everyone in Flea Bottom says they saw that Rorge monster break a man’s neck on a sour deal.”

“And still the police do nothing. I know. I’m itching to confront her too,” Renly tosses his cup in the trash.

“You’re itching for me to stop bugging you,” Margaery says.

Renly slips on his jacket. “That’s true. A happy Marge equals happy work life, and happy work equals happy me,” Renly kisses Marge’s cheek. “I’m off. Let me know if Cersei calls back.”

After work she swings by the police station. Construction makes it difficult to find a parking spot, but she eventually does.

As she walks inside, she’s not expecting to see her favorite clerk sitting at the desk. “Missandei? What are you doing here?”

Missandei smiles her bright smile and says, “Hello Ms. Tyrell. Lommy asked me to switch shifts with him today. It’s nice to sleep human hours for once.”

Margaery laughs at the joke. “It is indeed. How’s your home life?”

“Wonderful,” says Missandei. “I just bought a new kitten. She’s very shy, but likes to cuddle. I might be getting a pay raise soon too.”

“Excellent,” says Margaery. “You wouldn’t happen to have any new reports about Joffrey’s death.”

“Even when you’re off the clock, you’re not really off the clock, are you?” Missandei pulls out a short stack of papers. “His autopsy report came in a few hours ago.”

Margaery reads through. Joffrey had multiple gashes as a result of his auto accident, several broken ribs, and a punctured lung. His face was purple with blood dripping out of his nose, based on police reports. The coroner concluded that Joffrey likely died of a broken rib cage puncturing his lung. The accident was a solo accident which police associated with drunk driving.

Oddly enough, Joffrey’s blood alcohol content was far below the level of drunk driving. Among the little items found in Joffrey’s car is a bottle of Braavosi gin, cigarette butts and a playing dart from Tiny Tyene.

“Peculiar,” Margaery murmurs. She has to remind herself that this isn’t her case. This burden falls on Myranda. She has no plans of helping that brat.

Margaery hands Missandei the stack. “Alright darling, have a nice evening. I’ll catch you later.”

“Always a pleasure, Ms. Tyrell,” says Missandei.

When she returns home, Margaery finds Alayne huddled over her laptop, fingers tapping away. The scarf she’s been knitting for the last week sits folded next to her, embroidery pins sticking out of it.

“What are you working on?” Margaery asks, sitting down beside her.

“Looking at things to do in Highgarden,” Alayne says. Lady nuzzles her head against Alayne’s knee, and Alayne scratches her ear.

“I don’t know when we can go yet. I still haven’t heard back from Cersei about a new interview. And Jorah hasn’t published the first article yet.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t plan,” Alayne says and types away. “Would you say your brother would be nice enough to let us stay with him? If not, I have more than enough to splurge on a nice hotel room.”

“Garlan is a perfect gentleman with a pregnant wife. Of course he’ll say yes, but I don’t want to impose. Don’t worry about hotels. We can stay with Grandmother. She’ll insist upon it.” She’d likely be offended if they didn’t stay with her.

Alayne stares at Margaery. “We can’t. Either we’re staying with your brother or I’m going all out for a hotel room. I am not spending my vacation in fear of what that woman will do to me.”

Margaery leans into Alayne. “The worst she’ll do is ask if your satisfying me. Is that so terrible?”

“Yes,” says Alayne. “What about your dad? I’ve never met your parents.”

“We could, I suppose,” Margaery says.

From her purse, her phone rings. Margaery gets up and answers it.

“Hello Ms. Tyrell. Ms. Lannister said that she has a window in her schedule on Friday at noon if you would be available to meet with her then,” says the secretary whose voice Margaery has become so familiar with.

She brushes off the presumptiveness in her tone. “Absolutely. Let Ms. Lannister know my photographer and I will gladly be there.”

Without a thank you or goodbye, the woman on the other end hangs up.

Margaery puts her phone away and resumes her seat next to Alayne. Eyebrows raised toward her, Alayne asks, “Ms. Lannister?”

“My interview. Cersei is free Friday. We can start making those plans concrete,” Margaery shrugs.

Fur ruffled from Alayne’s petting, Lady moves in front of Margaery, ready for her soft strokes to smooth the roughness.

Margaery texts Renly the news, not noticing Alayne set down her laptop. She tries to ignore Lady poking her wet nose against her knee.

“Where?” asks Alayne.

“Where what?” asks Margaery absent mindedly.

“Where are you meeting her?” Alayne clarifies, voice hardened in frustration.

Margaery looks up from her phone. Alayne faces her, hair tucked behind one ear, a slight frown on her lips. “Her office, of course,” she sets aside her phone.

Although the location gave Cersei the upper hand in terms of control, it also gave the woman a sense of comfort. Comfort could easily turn into Cersei saying something she wouldn’t say if she didn’t feel in her element.

“Change it,” Alayne demands in the voice she uses with her employees.

“Excuse me?”

“Change it. Meet her at your office or at a coffeehouse. You can’t meet her there.” Alayne stands up as if that settles everything.

“No. I’m interviewing her at her office,” Margaery asserts. She stands up to look Alayne in the eye.

“If you’re going to do something that stupid, then at least take Jon with you,” Alayne attempts as a compromise.

“It’s not stupid, it’s business. You should know that,” Margaery argues.

Alayne walks past Margaery to her bedroom. “It’s stupid business. You’ll be right where she wants you.”

“She’s right where I want her.” Margaery follows Alayne. Footsteps echo off the wood, complimented by Lady’s claws scratching against the wood.

Alayne doesn’t say anything as she takes off her blazer and tosses it in the dirty clothes bin. She lifts her camisole over her head and it joins the blazer.

Despite her anger, Margaery can’t keep herself from glancing down to the wolf tattoo on Alayne back. She can’t imagine a more apt symbol for her girlfriend.

She sits on the bed, padded by the bright blue comforter Alayne put on today for when the weather grows colder, and watches Alayne put on another shirt, a plain white v-neck.

“No matter what I do, you’ll never trust me will you?” Margaery says.

Alayne raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t trust me,” Margaery repeats. “I’ve tried to be as honest as I can with you. I tell you what I’m doing with work, things that could get me fired if Jorah knew I told you, but that doesn’t make a difference to you. I don’t know why I expected anything different when you don’t tell me anything about yourself.”

She gets up and starts walking out. She’d said more than she wanted to, but damnit she was tired of being the bad guy. Honest to the Mother she was trying harder than she’d ever tried before in a relationship. And it hurt knowing the woman she was in lo-, the woman that she was with didn’t put the same faith in her.

She knows nothing about Alayne’s past. Nothing about her childhood, past friendships, past girlfriends or boyfriends, if she was even into girls before Margaery. All she knows is that Alayne is from the Vale and had a brother.

Alayne cuts her off. Margaery tries to shove past anyway, but Alayne catches her. “We’re not done.”

“I am,” says Margaery. She tries to step out of Alayne’s hold and bumps into Lady who is sitting and watching the fight unfold.

“Marge this is bothering you. We have to talk about it,” Alayne insists.

“Why now?” Margaery goes back to the bed.

Alayne sits down next to her. “You’ve never asked.”

“It never mattered to me,” says Margaery. She looks at Alayne’s eyes before focusing instead on her forehead. “I trusted that you would share the important things with me. In time.” Margaery scoffs. She looks at Alayne’s piercing stare. “You know, we’ve been together for a year and you’ve never spoken a word about your parents.”

Alayne gingerly tucks one of Margaery’s wavy curls behind her ear. “There’s not much to tell.”

Lady walks forward and nuzzles her head in the gap between Alayne’s knees. Alayne scratches her ears and looks at Lady as she says, “I never knew my parents. I don’t remember them anyway. I was placed in foster care when I was 2. I stayed there bouncing from living situation to living situation. Sometimes foster families, sometimes girls’ homes. When I was fourteen Petyr came to the Eyrie Children’s Hope and adopted me.” She turns her head sideways and looks at Margaery. “I was never really treated like a daughter, more like a protégé. He was looking for an heir of sorts to mold in his image and take over his business empire.”

Margaery scoots closer. “What about your brother?”

“My brother?” Remembrance dawns on her face. “I never knew him either. That picture was one of the few trinkets they left me in the foster system.”

After a moment of silence, Margaery hugs Alayne. Strong arms wrap around her in response, holding her tight. “I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t imagine not knowing her parents or her brothers. Even though she hardly knew Willas before his accident, she still has feint memories of him reading to her. Having none of that to go on seems horrible.

“I’m not. It’s made me who I am,” says Alayne.

Margaery lets her go. “I’m sorry I made you tell me. I just feel stressed and anxious about work and my frustration has been boiling over. It doesn’t change anything you know. It doesn’t change how I think of you or how I love you or-”

She stops mid-sentence, eyes widening and heart thumping. She knew she was rambling, trying to find the right words to apologize with and… seven hells it just spilled out.

She scrambles for the right words to clarify what she means. Others take her, she hadn’t given this the proper thought.

Panicked as Margaery is, she’s taken by surprise when Alayne kisses her hard, pushing her down against the bed. For the rest of the night Alayne makes her forget everything except Alayne and the thought of why she was crazy enough to not tell her she loved her before.

And yet…

Laying in bed, Alayne’s arms wrapped tight around her own in sleep as she spooned Alayne, Margaery’s brain wouldn’t let her sleep. She couldn’t shove out the thought that something wasn’t right.

She kisses Alayne’s bare shoulder and gently extracts her arms away from the vice grip they’re in. She rolls on her back. Then the thought hits her. It had been a year and a half since she interviewed Petyr Baelish about his restaurant opening, but she was certain he never mentioned having a daughter, adopted or not. Undeniably the man had his secrets. Adoptions weren’t usually things one could easily hide though. Margaery prided herself on thoroughly researching the people she interviewed and Petyr Baelish was no different. Anything pertaining to legal matters and contracts, Margaery knew inside and out about her sources. Petyr Baelish has 3 traffic tickets, a DUI, and an annulment to the late Lysa Arryn on his record. Nothing that Margaery recalls ever indicated he adopted.

It’s a ridiculous thought. Why would anyone lie about being adopted? Or perhaps Margaery had accidentally skipped the adoption papers when she read his record? No, she wouldn’t have.

She rolls onto her side again and stares at the back of Alayne’s head. Alayne’s never lied to her before, has she? Margaery wasn’t sure anymore. She’d never had reason to question Alayne before, but in the early hours of the morning she found herself questioning every conversation she’d had with her. Which only made her feel guilty. What if she was wrong?

Although she eventually fell into a restless sleep, the thoughts and questions nagged her throughout work the next morning.

“Margaery, you’ve been awfully quiet today,” Renly said as he packed away his laptop. “What’s bothering you?”

Margaery shook her head and typed the final paragraph for the story was she was writing for tomorrow’s paper. “Nothing is wrong. Thinking about how to approach this interview with Cersei, that’s all.”

Renly nods. “Take a break then and get some coffee. You look a mess.” He says goodbye and gently shuts the door behind him.

Margaery proofreads her article. She hates it. Passive voice everywhere, misspelled names. She hasn’t written anything so poor since high school. She slams her laptop shut and tousles her hair in frustration.

She needs to put this paranoia with Alayne to rest. Fortunately, she has the perfect source to deny her silly fears.

The number for The Vale Child Services is near the end of the phonebook. After waiting on hold for several minutes, the man on the other side connects her to the person she asks for.

“Child Adoption services, how may I be of assistance?” asked the woman on the other end.

“Hello cousin, it’s been too long,” says Margaery.

“Margaery, is that you?” asks the woman.

“The one and only, Megga,” says Margaery.

#in the crosshairs #sansaery

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