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samwritesforyou · 3 years

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Booked

Diego x reader (the whole family is present at the beginning but as time goes on becomes more Diego-centric)

Summary: You have a summer house that is far away from any big cities, you’ve inherited it from your great-great-parents and you want to prove to your friends that you cannot possibly make an income out of it. So you submit the house at booking dot com for the lowest price possible. Your plan was working for years and you’ve been happy and content just by growing your own food and participating in the village’s community, completely forgetting about the offer you presented on booking. Until one day, seven siblings arrive at your place, saying they reserved themselves the whole house for the eternity of summer.

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, swear words (? but just a couple, mainly from Five)

Wordcount: 3.7k

A/N: settling is post s2, so everyone looks accordingly. umbrella academy gets back into the timeline where no umbrella nor the sparrow academy exists, yet the world is still ending. mostly written out of nostalgia for my own summer house that my family sold years ago and i will never come back there, so i want it to live on at least somewhere

Summers were always hot in this little village that you lived in, especially with the climate change looming over humanity’s ignorant heads.

So you were actually relieved that you finally persuaded a local technician to help you fix the fridge that stopped freezing its insides for good two weeks already.

You just handed her the cash and waved her goodbye, also giving the lady a basket with apples and peaches that grew in your garden. You don’t have enough people eating your fruits and most of it goes into jams anyways.

You waited a little until her car disappeared into the horizon of the bumpy road near your house, seeing as it even got blurry in the end, as the air was literally melting the reality in front of your eyes.

With a swift movement you adjusted a cap on your head, went out of the creaky gate - which green color was peeling off into the original black metal that it was made with - and closed it behind yourself with a happy hum.

It was a twenty minutes walk to the nearest convenience store and it gave you just enough time to ponder about the recent weird thing that happened to you.

About three days ago you just got a random payment come to your bank account.

15 Euros. That was it.

No note, no name.

You decided to let it be, even though it did stir your mind in various ways.

Normally, when something like this happens, the bank realises the mistake in the recipient and takes the money back within 24 hours.

Either the person who sent it didn’t care that it went to the wrong place or bank decided to be generous with you.

Whatever the reason was, those 15 Euros could be used now to buy yourself a little more sweets than you usually do.

You never had to complain about how little money you actually have from living here and being more or less self-sufficient, but some random extra cash will make anyone smile in this capitalistic hell that you tried so hard to escape from.

After you came home you started sorting out groceries that you’ve bought, putting them into the right places.

Upon finishing you just plopped yourself on the bench near the big abandoned table in the room, looking around.

This house used to be alive. With a lot of your family members running around, making noise, sometimes fighting, but always generally just enjoying the good time at this place.

At the end of the extended room was a window, showing you the rest of the garden that you lovingly cared for every single day.

Under the window was a spacious kitchen counter, with a fridge and shelves for ingredients next to it. Then there was the entrance to one of the unused bedrooms with one bed pushed against the wall, which in turn was covered by a red hanging carpet. On a wall, yes.

You stopped tracing the room around with your eyes as you heard some rummaging coming from the outside.

After easily springing to your feet you saw black dots in front of you and your head was spinning. Damn you, iron deficiency!

A few seconds passed and you were collected again, rushing out towards the gates to the property.

You stopped in your tracks as you saw five people literally barging through your piece of land with suitcases and bags, bickering with each other.

Oh, nope. They were six, actually. A very tiny figure closed the gate after all of them made it in and started clumsily going forward on a tiny tartan road that lead all the way to the summer house.

“Klaus, stop fucking pushing around and help me with the bags, maybe?” said a man with longer curly hair and a goatee, clearly agitated at another person, who wasn’t holding anything except some bottle in their hand.

“Oh cut it, you two! We’re almost in the house, come on,” said a woman with straight black hair in the flowery dress and then she noticed that someone blocks their way.

Her eyes landed on you.

“Um... hello?” she said with an awkward smile, attempting a wave in your direction and continued, “are you the owner? We booked your house until the rest of the summer like.. a few days ago.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open in the “o” shape, trying to grasp the reality.

So.... someone really booked your summer house after several years of no traction from booking and you had no clue.

That’s what the payment was for!

But..

“Oh,” you said, not knowing how to proceed about the situation, “well, you see.. um... I have nowhere to stay? This is my only home,” you started timidly, rubbing your hands together.

“Oh,” the woman seemed surprised and confused but quickly collected herself, “well, if you have enough beds to keep us all in then it’s no problem, I guess?”

“Yeah? Alright, great!” You smiled at the whole “squad” and looked at them all.

“Uhm.. my name is y/n! Welcome to my summer house, I guess,” you put your hands into the back pockets and shook your head a little into the direction of the house.

“Allison, nice to meet you,” the woman you talked to said, smiling invitingly.

“Diego,” almost spat the guy with the goatee.

“Klaus, darling,” said the person with the bottle in their hand, widening his arms in an invisible hug.

“Luther,” mumbled a big man in the back of them all.. he looked like he’s been through something.

Actually, they all do.

“Vanya,” chirped a girl behind the big- Luther, the corners of her lips lifting ever so lightly.

“Five,” said a child in the front, looking unusually angry, suddenly shortening the distance between the two of you, “as long as you’re out of our business you’re good to stay,” he literally sneered at you, pushing past you and going inside.

That left you kinda shook, but then Allison just apologised for “their brother”, so you decided to ask another question:

“So you’re all a family?”

“Yes, we’re all siblings. Adopted,” she said, actually following you inside, not as the little guy before who let himself in without even knowing the place.

“I think my place is not the best for so many people to sleep at though..” you said quietly, biting your lip.

“That’s why it was so cheap..” Luther wondered, looking around.

You had to calm yourself so you didn’t snap at your guest. You didn’t even know anyone would ever book your house, damn! What were you supposed to do?

In the end you spent some time showing them the rooms, starting with the first one that contained an old-fashioned sink and the water tank near it, which you needed to manually fill up with water, and the drain led to the bucket under it.

Very simple.

In the back of the room there was a dining table, on one side surrounded by the bench and the other with some mismatching chairs.

From this space you proceeded into the extended “hallway” that you stared at before your peace and quiet was ruined.

There was also an ancient literal furnace, on top of which you could actually lay on, you know, as in all the fairytales.

After that, there was another room entrance that contained two beds on each side (one of them pushed under the window), similar to the other room and a coffee table in the middle of the area.

When you all went back to the first place, there was a wooden staircase that led to the second floor.

There were two rooms. One had a king sized bed in the middle of the space, with a closet and various tables around the whole area.

The other one had a working table and a bed in the corner.

“And that is the end of the tour!” you proclaimed, as everyone got seated by the big table in the extended room, while you were making everyone tea and preparing some snacks.

“Great, I sleep on the furnace!” Klaus exclaimed, putting his hands in the air animatedly.

“I guess we can fit all of us in here, actually,” Allison was clearly thinking aloud, counting the members of the family and available sleeping places.

“You’re gonna take one of the beds, right?” she said, pointing at you.

“Uh.. yes! Upstairs, I think. The one with the small bed and a table,” you smiled at her and she nodded.

“Then I’ll be sleeping with Vanya in the king-sized bed and you guys can fight for who’s going to end up sharing the room,” Allison concluded, clearly enjoying herself.

“Funny of you to think I’ll have enough time to sleep, in our situation,” said Five, suddenly coming out from the doorframe into the room.

You didn’t even mention that he wasn’t there when you were explaining the plan of the house.

“What situation? There should always be time to sleep,” you chipped in, carefully smiling at the boy.

“Stay the fuck out of our business, I said,” he gritted through his teeth at you, which left you blinking in surprise as he went away again, out of sight.

“How... old is he again?” you asked with the confusion that a kid would be so rude to a stranger like this.

All of them kind of nervously laughed or mumbled something that you couldn’t understand.

“It’s complicated,” said Vanya, smiling at you reassuringly.

How the fuck an age of your own brother is complicated?..

You heard the fancy-looking woman - Allison - sigh heavily and turn to you, shrugging.

“It’s just.. when our parents adopted him, he freshly got into the orphanage so he didn’t even have any documents about his birthday, blood type or anything. Apparently, he was really abused by his biological parents. Or whoever else, we don’t even know.”

“Oh.. I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly, biting your lip. Didn’t expect to poke into any painful subjects.

“It’s okay, really, we’ve learned how to take proper care of him,” Allison said, putting her hand on your back with a smile.

When you excused yourself to continue with gardening and went outside, Allison just shook her head.

“Who says ‘it’s complicated’ when someone asks you about their sibling’s age, Vanya?” said Allison in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would settle the matter..” she muttered, playing with her fingers anxiously.

“It’s okay..” she smiled at her sister and then looked around the whole table, “look we’re here for the whole summer, so I think it would be better if we somehow told the owner at least partially about our powers so we’re not hiding all the time. We came here to have a safe space where we could train after all, am I right?” she looked expectantly at Luther who immediately started nodding along, agreeing.

“Or maybe,” started saying Klaus, already getting up from his seat and trying to crawl onto the furnace, skinny legs already dangling in the air, “we can just tell them we’re the umbrella academy, don’t you think?” he concluded, facing a wall with his face.

“But we checked that the umbrella academy doesn’t exist in this universe.. nor any other replacement of us,” reminded her siblings Vanya, fingers still intertwined on the table, firmly put together.

“I’m sure we’ll tell them one way or another,” said Diego, getting up just like his brother, making his way a bit further though, his objective clearly being the fridge.

He opened it and smirked at the beer present there, taking one can with him. His eyes then wondered to the window at the end of the room and he stepped closer, inspecting what is outside.

Apparently it was still their new home’s property, as he saw y/n working in the garden, repotting some plants under the tree.

His gaze stayed on them as he thought about various topics in his head, but then he decided to go out of the house, jumping down the wooden stairs leading to the tartan road, framing the whole garden.

You heard steps behind you, turning your head away from the the plants, only to meet a tall man in front of you, with a can in his hand.

“Hey, uhm..” he nervously put his hand on his neck, scratching it, “I just wanted to ask if it’s cool if I take some beer from the fridge?” he lifted the other hand with the mentioned item, giving it a little shake.

“It’s cool,” you replied, smiling softly at him, and then getting back to work, grabbing the plant by the root, moving it to another hole in the ground.

“Okay..” he retorted, biting his lower lip and scanned the area with his dark eyes.

There was an abandoned greenhouse with broken walls, greenery growing all around it, just next to the fence of the property. To its left was a wooden toilet booth with a typical round-shaped hole in the higher part of the door.

“I’m really sorry, by the way,” you started talking again, now finally done with your objective of the day, now plopping yourself next to Diego on the bench that he was chilling at, the surface creaking from the added weight, “I really thought nobody would *ever* rent this place,” you shrugged with a smile, now looking in front of yourself, closing your eyes and letting sunshine illuminate your face.

“Well.. uh.. then why did you put up on that website anyways?” he asked, clear confusion in his voice.

You sighed, shifting your body a little, getting into more comfortable sitting position, “It was a bet I made with my friends back in the day. A few years ago they told me I could actually rent this place and get income from it, not having to work a day in my life! Yet i told them that it’s not possible, and I wanted to prove that I was right by putting the advertisement,” you finished, finally opening your eyes, tilting your head at your new acquaintance.

You caught him staring at you, so he quickly turned away, now getting quite a violent sip out of the beer can.

“You should’ve put some timing on that bet then.. Let’s say, if it doesn’t get traction after two years you’ll finally delete the posting,” he said, after gulping some liquid.

That made you laugh and you couldn’t look away from him. His features were so.. delicate.

“Yeah, you’re actually right!” you admitted, slapping your thighs in excitement.

“Diego, my precious brother!” you two suddenly heard from the entrance to the house.

You lifted your eyes and saw a slender confide getting closer to you both, the man walking barefoot.

“Five said we’re all needed for a ‘family meeting’,” the guy literally put an air quotes with his free hand that wasn’t holding a glass, saying it in the mockingly serious tone, “so you better come with me and stop bothering this lovely person, alright?” he then proceeded sweetly, extending a hand towards Diego with a wide smile.

“God.. alright,” he answered and to your surprise took his hand, now brothers going away into the house, Diego briefly looking back at you, “Let’s talk later.”

You just nodded, finding yourself still smiling long before they were gone.

What is this funny feeling in the pit of your stomach?..

And why is one of their family members called by a number instead of a name?!

It was only the second day of your coexistence with the Hargreeves but it was already a wild ride.

Normally your morning looked like this;

You would wake up at a reasonable hour, maybe like.. 9am. You would go down the stairs from your room and make yourself some breakfast. While eating you’d either read a book or just listen to some music from your phone.

Then you’d do daily tasks, so taking care of the garden or some house maintenance, or both.

Then you’d do everything special that needs to be done only once in a while: a meeting with a friend, grocery shopping, attending a meeting with your neighbours where you decide on further upgrades of the village.

Then you’d draw some commissions, if there were any and after all of this you’d have late lunch that normally turned into dinner, concluding your day with doing your hobbies or rarely taking out your laptop and browsing the internet.

“Rise and shiiine!” you heard somewhere from downstairs, for some reason that person was also ringing a bell, making you immediately sit up in your bed.

You turned your head towards the mirror that hung across your sleeping space on the wall and you could see your hair standing up in different directions, cowlick upon cowlick.

You also felt tired, kind of not used to that feeling and shifted your half-closed eyes to the alarm clock near you.

It was... a bit past 7am. Who are those people to wake up that early?!

You lazily got up from the bed, yawning and stretching your arms up, feeling a few cracks here and there.

“Good morning!” first half of the sentence was muffled by the closed door to your room, but that quickly changed as it burst open, Klaus marching right in, his voice now uncomfortably loud for your sleepy ears, “I thought it would be nice to have breakfast all together and make you feel a part of the family, wouldn’t it?” he said with a genuine smile, looking at you.

You were sitting on your bed in pyjamas, hair all over the place, most unamused expression on the face, eyes half opened.

“Not a morning person?” he mused, tilting his head at you, “well, feel free to join or sleep more, I wouldn’t judge,” he continued and you saw in literal slow motion as he lifted his hand with a bell in hand, shaking it hard as he marched out of your room just in the same manner as he came in just seconds ago.

“BREAKFAST!!” he yelled with at least two octaves lower at his siblings, still ringing the bell that now was resonating in your brain in a highest pitch possible, making your head hurt.

Great morning.

But despite the general morning grumpiness you did find it endearing that Klaus decided to include you in their activities, making you feel less alone and - quite funnily - welcomed in your own house.

You slowly went down the stairs, hearing the lower floor full of different voices and it made your heart clench. You immediately thought of your family that made it feel alive like this in the past and a warm smile appeared on your face, as the Hargreeves huddled up around the smaller table in the room you descended from the stairs into, all making your appearance feel natural.

“Good morning,” you passed Luther that nodded in your direction alongside the phrase, as you went into the bigger room, seeing Allison cooking by the stove, window open.

“Oh hey, you’re up,” she said with a smile, “can you pass me some milk?” she asked, extending her hand into the air, already expecting said item.

“Sure!!” you hurriedly opened the fridge, giving her the thing she requested and she continued cooking.

You slowly looked around, seeing a blanket and some different things like cigarette boxes and teddy bears on top of the furnace, which made you realise that someone from the family has clearly claimed it to be their place for sleeping and you found it adorable.

“You can go sit with the others, I’ll bring it all in when it’s ready, Allison said, adjusting her black hair so it didn’t get in the way of preparing food.

“Oh.. okay!” you chirped, with a smile going back to the first room, and finding an empty seat between Diego and Klaus.

You almost sat already when Klaus sprang to his feet and took you by the shoulders, making you freeze on the spot, eyes wide.

“Klaus?” you asked, confused, “is that seat taken?”

“By Allison,” Diego quickly responded before his brother had any chance to and then the skinny man sat back on his chair, nodding with an awkward smile on his face.

“Yes, exactly. Sorry y/n,” he sighed and shrugged, clearly playing along Diego’s words, but you just let it go.

Instead you sat next to Luther, whom already opened his mouth but Vanya looked at him with a forced smile, raising a brow. At that, the big guy closed his mouth again, without making a sound.

Something.. is weird here. You shifted a bit in your seat, biting your lower lip.

The kid wasn’t here at all, you just noticed.

Then finally Allison came with the food and your anxiety lessened, as everyone started cheering for wonderful pancakes that she made.

She already wanted to sit on the seat that the guys told you was reserved for her, when suddenly Klaus did the same to her as he did to you.

“Klaus,” Diego hissed in a low voice.

Allison just looked at her brother, expression just as confused as yours was.

“What?” Allison deadpanned, putting a hand to her hip.

There was a brief second of silence until Klaus just burst into an emotional speech.

“Look, I know we’re all pretending that we’re normal in front of y/n but you all know that Ben always sits next to me and he’s sitting here right now, yet you all wanna make it seem like he doesn’t exist? I’m sorry that he’s a ghost, I’m sure he didn’t want to die either!” then after a moment he added, “Right, brother dear?” looking at an empty space near him.

Your brain clearly wasn’t catching up to what was just being said.

Pretending to be normal?..

“Great. Just fucking great, Klaus. I bet Ben would move, understanding the situation!” Allison waved her hands at him and the chair next to him with an annoyed voice.

“We just blew our cover, guys,” said Diego with pursed lips, looking absentmindedly at the table filled with food.

Soon enough they all started arguing and only when there was a sudden blue light in the room, and the kid appeared literally out of the thin air in front of your eyes, everyone fell silent, looking at him.

“Guys, I just did a search around the neighbourhood and—“ his blue eyes met with yours, full of shock and denial of what you just saw, “shit.”

He clicked his tongue and frowned and that was positively the last thing you remember before losing consciousness, everything around you turning black.

Too much of supernatural for one morning, that’s for sure.

Precious taglist: @radcloudenthusiast, @spacenerdpascal

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#diego x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #tua diego #diego reader insert #the umbrella academy #tua fanfic #umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves #number two #number two x reader

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thewidowstanton · 3 years

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Josie Stone: costumier

Costumier Josie Stone was born in London and lived and worked there most of her life but is now based in Rochester in Kent. She’s been in the business “going back to the Flower Power days of the sixties” in London’s King’s Road, and worked for a lot of up-and-coming pop groups, selling clothes to Tommy Roberts’ Kleptomania in Carnaby Street. She made fashion samples for designers Paddy Campbell and Katherine Cusack, and one Christmas Liberty’s department store had windows showcasing Cusack’s dresses – including one for Diana, Princess of Wales – all of which Josie had made. She also created samples for adverts in the boutique Medusa near Sloane Square.

Later Josie moved into the entertainment industry, making outfits for both the children’s and adults’ Royal Variety Performances, as well as doing TV work for the Des O’Connor Show, the Michael Barrymore Show, the Lesley Garrett and Frank Skinner shows, TFI Friday and for organisations such as Butlins and Bassline Circus. She’s made costumes for shows on cruise ships and for films such as Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again, and has made those for Thursford Christmas Spectacular for many years. Even though Thursford always credits her work, her considerable contribution to the industry has largely gone unrecognised.

She is performer Becky [Rebecca] Burford’s mother, and her son-in-law is stunt man Andrew Burford. The Widow’s Liz Arratoon has always regarded costumes as a vital part of any show and was delighted when Josie agreed to chat about her impressive – and lengthy – career.

The Widow Stanton: Have you always loved clothes and fashion? Josie Stone: It was always in me. I was one of these kids that when my mother and father bought me a sewing machine I made all my dolls’ clothes.

Was this skill in your family background? No, my mum was very good at sewing… very good. But no they didn’t do this. My father was a printer. I learnt a lot at school and a lot from my mum. I didn’t go to college; we had lessons at school for making… millinery classes and also sewing classes.

That’s amazing! We had sewing classes at school but we never learnt anything worthwhile. How did you start out actually working in the industry? I left school and went to a couple of places making shirts but that didn’t last long. Then I met up with this guy who had his workroom above Tesco’s in Victoria. He was very keen to start making… it was like Flower Power days but you couldn’t buy shirts and trousers and things like that for the pop groups. Those sort of things just weren’t around. So I went to work with him. It was a rented flat he lived in and we were all working in there making these things. Then he suddenly got this place down King’s Road in Chelsea called The Potato Shop; on the corner in World’s End. At the time Granny Takes a Trip was just down the road from us, with this American car sticking out the window that appeared to crash through on to the step. It was great! I mean good fun, great fun!

Do you design as well as make? No, I don’t design. I get a drawing and that’s it. It depends on who the designer is… sometimes you get ‘I want that at the bottom, I want the skirt to look like that and the top to look like that’.

Can you remember any of the pop groups you worked for? [Laughs] No! You’re talking a lot of years ago, lots of years ago. It was any group that was starting out in that industry and they had nowhere to buy their things. We would buy Indian bedspreads and make them into kaftans, sailors’ trousers, dyeing them all different colours and altering them, and frilly shirts that would be sold to the antique market at the Sloane Square end of the King’s Road, near the town hall. We had one floor in The Potato Shop and there were crazy carryings on downstairs in the basement. We didn’t really know what it was all about but it was a bit naughty. One night we sneaked back into the place and worked all night so this guy could get his order out.

We always hear about the Swinging Sixties… how much fun was it? Oh, King’s Road was lovely. Beautiful, beautiful. It was a wonderful place to be in the sixties with all the Flower Power, then the punks. It was great fun; it was wonderful fun. It was all unknown to me; it was all new and that was the start of me getting into that type of work. My dad worked just off of Carnaby Street and he got us work from Kleptomania, a big, big place where all the pop groups used to go. We’d be making more kaftans and shirts with frills all down the sides and the centre. There still weren’t many shops around that were selling that type of thing. Tommy Roberts would sell to people like Jimi Hendrix and The Who. It was just fun. [Laughs] I was a single girl having great fun going from one place to the next, really.

After that I worked in a boutique called Medusa. I was downstairs making samples all the time. I didn’t used to do much production. Mainly I’d make a sample up and then if they liked it it would go off to wherever, to a factory or somewhere like that to do production. Medusa was a swinging place, it was in a little alleyway off the King’s Road next to Sainsbury’s. I believe it was called Elystan Place. It was an up-and-coming boutique. That was at the time when Zandra Rhodes was big, and those sort of people. One time we made some samples for Apple Records, the Beatles’ label, but it never came to anything.

What was the best part of your life then? I was young and having fun and it was all the unknown. I lived then in Wandsworth Road with my parents, and these were all Chelsea people and they were different, completely different to the life I’d led, and it was just really way out, anything went. It didn’t matter what you wore, anything went. And I loved my job. I’d work any hours because I loved it. I didn’t always like the places, I’d go from job to job, but I did love my work and I then started having my own workroom. I decided I’d work from home. I worked with a friend from my first mother-in-law’s house and we were still doing the kaftans… a guy used to pull up in this black cab that was all painted with psychedelic patterns. It was at Tulse Hill – they were very quiet there – and the neighbours used to look in absolute amazement at everything going on. But we loved it, my mother-in-law loved it and it was good fun.

So, let’s jump ahead, how did the Liberty’s window display come about? I worked for somebody called Katherine Cusack. That was just when Rebecca was born and I was working from home. I think Katherine advertised in The Stage and she wanted to start doing semi-couture work. I’d make her samples and then she’d have a party and invite all these quite wealthy people to her lounge. It was a beautiful Edwardian house in Grafton Square in Clapham Common. Then she managed to get into Liberty’s and that Christmas the whole front had all the dresses that I’d made.

Which of Lady Di’s dresses did you make? It was a beautiful silk velvet in a beautiful deep blue. It had long sleeves and rouleau loops with little buttons all the way down. I think Di went into Liberty’s and bought it. I believe she was photographed wearing it for The Lady. Katherine was over the moon. But it was real pain to make because silk velvet takes its own route. It’s not the easiest of fabrics to work on because it’s so soft. It is beautiful but it’s not easy to make. You’ve go to have the right feed on your machine otherwise when you’re joining the seams up you’ll lose it and it will be longer one end. Josie! That dress was later auctioned for thousands and thousands! £48,000, I believe.

How did you make the move into showbusiness? I moved into that when Rebecca started at Sylvia Young’s. They used to put on shows all the time because it’s a theatre school and I started making costumes. Then I went on to doing the children’s Royal Variety.

Is that how you got on to the adults’ Royal Variety Performance? I’d got into a workroom at Acton doing samples for someone I met on the children’s Royal Variety. Then I went into my own workroom at Acton and I used to help her out. Various different designers got my name and we took on the work. That’s how we gradually started doing all the shows. She didn’t want to go on the shows so I used to go to the studios or anywhere where the work was and I’d fit the costumes and then come back and we’d finish them, but she stayed in the workroom to do whatever needed to be done there.

Can you tell us about any really nice celebs you worked with? Oh God, who haven’t I met? [Laughs] I worked on the Royal Variety for years with a wonderful designer called Linda Martin. That’s years and years so that’s one helluva lot of people I’ve met. Des O’Connor was sweet. He was lovely, lovely, absolutely charming and so was his wife. We used to do a lunchtime show with him. I did that for a lot of years. Michael Barrymore was also lovely. I was really upset when he went off the scene because he was a nice guy.

Does anyone else stand out? There’s very few that weren’t nice. They were all very nice. No one was horrible. I worked on Michael Barrymore’s show at Wimbledon Theatre and there were so many celebs on it that they had to share dressing rooms. This one particular share was with Warren Mitchell and Chris Eubank. And Warren Mitchell didn’t want to share with Chris Eubank at all. At the time Chris Eubank had this electric scooter that he would go all round the corridors on it. I could understand Warren Mitchell not wanting to share with him because he was a bit wild at this point. He’s the only one I can say wasn’t very pleasant, but I think it was because he was unhappy about sharing because he and Chris were complete opposites.

Do you know how many years you’ve done Thursford for? If we go this time, probably 20 years. The designer I work with there is Stephen Adnitt; he was Cilla’s designer. I worked with Linda Martin for 12 or 13 years doing Thursford. I’d never met Stephen, I knew of him, and he asked me to join his team. The designer gets the job and they’ll have a team and usually they keep that same team all the time. I’ve worked with him for eight years.

How many costumes might be involved in its Christmas show? We have to dress everybody at Thursford, even the orchestra. So you have 56 singers, 23 dancers and almost two full orchestras.

So when would you start to plan something like that? We – I work with Rita Best – would start end of May, beginning of June. Our designs would come in before then. We’d measure people and make the costumes and fit them in September. There are probably eight or nine sets of costumes to make. It’s enormous! Enormous. It’s the biggest show I think in Europe. We’d spend three weeks in Norfolk just making sure that it all works on the set; making sure that sequins don’t come off – I mean it’s covered, absolutely covered in sequins – and we’ll be sitting for hours and hours sticking them on. But again, we love it. We’d see the rehearsals and the preview and the day the show starts we’d come home. Our job was done. When I was working for Linda there, I’d be there working late at night. That didn’t happen so much with Stephen. He’d be like: “We’ve got to finish now.”

You mentioned doing millinery at school so do you do headdresses and that sort of thing? No, I would have liked to have done but for Thursford we have a milliner who comes with us; Shirley Davis, who has also been in the business a very long time.

What advice would you give to someone wanting to follow in your footsteps? Get into a workroom and learn how it goes. Learn how people work because what they learn at college is not how a workroom works. And really to earn any money at it, you’ve got to have a bit of speed on the machine. You can’t hang about. You can’t take a week or two or three weeks to make something. It’s nice if they can get into a workroom and see it first hand. I mean I get my work through various designers that I’ve known over the years or another maker who will ring me up completely out of the blue. Last week I helped someone out on a film. I’ll work on anything that needs a costume. I did Red or Black? at Wembley Arena, a game show developed by Simon Cowell. You could win a £1 million. It was massive. I worked with another designer called Scott Landridge, who did the children’s TV series The Worst Witch, the TV series Mile High and the sitcom Citizen Khan.

Have you had any costume disasters? Not really. [Laughs] I’ve had a lot of late nights or working all night to finish a costume off. You get the occasional broken strap and you have to quickly run down to the stage or on to the set and pin them up, or something doesn’t fit when they arrive. But no major disasters.

Have you been doing anything during the lockdown? Just before the lockdown we had all these shows on cruise ships lined up but that all went. At first I was making scrubs for the hospitals. I did loads of voluntary work for anyone who needed them. Sometimes they gave me the material and sometimes I’d provide it. They were using all kinds of material in the end, even bedspreads. I did that for a while and I also made these little pairs of hearts. They were to send to hospices and hospitals so the patient could have one to hold and the family would have the other one. I made them out of all the material I have here. I also did masks, but I’m not doing so many now.

Do you ever think about retiring? No! [Laughs] I love what I do. But the work will get less and less and that will be it. I mean we’ve had hardly anything this year. We did a few bits for Butlins and a big Dame’s costume, which I don’t think ever got used because that show was cut.

Can you pick out a few career highlights? I loved working on the Royal Variety at the Royal Albert Hall. I loved doing it in there. I did that quite a few times. Beautiful, beautiful. It’s a beautiful building and it’s just lovely to work in. If you look back at all the names that have been on the Royal and I did it for more than twenty years, there are a hell of a lot of names I’ve met. And that was quite fun.

Josie is hoping that Thursford Christmas Spectacular in Thursford, Norfolk will go ahead this year. If so, it will run from 9 November – 23 December 2021 at 2pm and 7pm.

In the meantime she can be contacted on 07956 832261 for commissions.

For Thursford tickets click here

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#josie stone #costumier #kleptomania #tommy roberts #swinging sixties #king's road #granny takes a trip #thursford christmas spectacular #royal variety performance #Becky Burford #andrew burford #diana princess of wales #Katherine Cusack #Scott Landridge #shirley davis #linda martin #rita best #stephen adnitt

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vigilantesanonymous · 4 years

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and the thing is, i’m not scared anymore (part 1)

In which you are a healer being held against your will by the First Order. There are legends swirling around the galaxy of a great Sith healer, one that can bring a man back to life, all without Jedi power. But to you, you’re just a girl stuck on a planet with nowhere to go, left to rot there for the rest of your life. That is, until a cocky and utterly charming Resistance pilot crashes in to save you. (So kinda like Tangled but make it Star Wars. Only kinda though.)

word count: 1869

***

This would be no easy mission, but Leia had full faith in her favorite fighter pilot. A girl, a healer, stuck on a planet in the unknown regions. That kind of power didn’t belong in the hands of the First Order, and Leia had reason to believe that this girl could be extremely beneficial to the Resistance. She explained this as she gave the final details to Poe about the mission. And the tiny detail that C-3PO was the only droid unit that had the coordinates, so he would have to come.

“So where are they keeping her exactly?” Poe asks as he stands across from Leia.

“We have reason to believe that she’s being stored on Volik.”

“The planet that was supposed to be a resort for all the Empire higher ups? Wasn’t that abandoned a while ago?”

“Exactly. It makes it the perfect place to keep her. No one residing there to discover her, but the First Order has extensive knowledge of the ins and outs of the planet. We think she’s being kept here, somewhere in this valley. Are you up to the challenge?” Leia asks him, a glimmer in her dark eyes.

“You know it General. I won’t let you down.”

And with that, Poe takes the Falcon and heads towards the unknown region, Chewy and his trusty droids along for the ride.

“Best seven out of ten?” I ask the mouse droid at my feet. PS-C4L beeps at me and swirls around my feet before heading in the opposite direction. “Okay! Then you come up with something better to do!”

The room they keep me in is modest, and not all that uncomfortable. But it’s the same room I’ve been locked in my entire life. Same grungy walls, same earthy smell from the dirt outside that I’m forbidden to touch. Books are stacked in neat piles near my bed- they cover all kinds of topics, from healing methods of different cultures to maps of the solar systems I’ve only ever dreamed of going to. A modest kitchenette (since I earned the privilege of being able to cook for myself at age 15), and two barred windows. My only glimpses into the outside world- a few vines have managed to crawl up the wall to poke in my window, that’s about it for living life forms aside from me in this room. From what I’ve gathered from Stormtroopers gossip, I’m stored in an old security outpost for what was supposed to be a resort for the richest of the rich in the Empire. Hence why I don’t have any of the bells and whistles that resort goers are supposed to have here in my quarters.

Somehow the little mouse droid squeaked his way in here, and the Stormtroopers who keep watch over me have just been too lazy to catch it, so I’ve made it my friend. Well, the closest thing I guess I can get to a friend. I’ve tried to talk to the Stormtroopers who keep guard over me, but mostly they just ignore me. They insist that they are unauthorized to talk to “the asset” (me), and that I have to call them by their serial coded names. I know their real names- James and Zara- but they get really angry if I call them by their real names, especially if there are other people around. The last ones whose names I learned were restationed, so I just keep to myself.

Unsure of where PS-C4L went, I resign to sitting up by the window and watching the outside world. One of my favorite things to do is watch as the ships go by. The last time I was on a ship was when I was a toddler, so it fascinates me to think about flying, and what it feels like. Today is a relatively quiet and humid day, so no ships are zipping along the horizon. Just a few troopers are down in the space I like to think of as a courtyard, just milling around. That is, until one of the taps the shoulder of the other, desperately pointing at the sky. A ship is coming in, but one I don’t recognize. “That’s no First Order ship,” I whisper to myself. Suddenly the Stormtroopers start scrambling to get their weapons and start shooting. I perk up, watching as the ship easily takes out a group of them on the ground.

“Whatever you do, keep the asset safe!” One of the troopers yells to my guards at the door as they run by. I can hear the thunking of their boots as they descend rapidly down the stairs to the courtyard.

Suddenly all I can hear is the pounding of my heartbeat. Are they- could they be coming for me? I sink below the window, breathing heavily. I could be saved! Or captured and sold off somewhere else. I’ve never been outside my little outpost, never even allowed to go outside for a short walk around the courtyard. What if I was taken somewhere worse, like made a slave for one of the Hutts? I shivered just at the thought of it. Scrambling up, I scoured the room for any kind of weapon I could use if I needed to defend myself and my eyes fell to - a frying pan. “Well, it’s the best thing I’ve got,” I say to PS-C4L, who has reappeared in all of the commotion.

“I think we’re close!” I hear someone call from down the hall. “Goddamn, these things are everywhere!” Blaster shots echo off the walls in the hallway, followed with the sounds of clattering armor and grunting troopers that have fallen.

“Stop right there!” One of the guards calls, holding up his blaster, but he’s instantly shot and crumples to the ground. After the din of the fighting, the usual quiet and background noise of the jungle is deafening in the eerie silence.

“That the last of them, 3PO?”

I hear the mechanical creak of a biped droid coming closer. “That is correct, Commander Dameron. The only other life forces I can sense around us besides you and Chewbacca is the girl inside. We should hurry, they will send in reinforcements, I’m sure!”

A tall man with dark hair and dark eyes peers at me from the slats in my door. “Hold on Sweetheart,” he calls to me. He stands back, and I hear the lock for the door explode, and the door shoots open.

I hold the frying pan in front of me defensively. “You’re not a Stormtrooper,” I say, just barely a whisper. “Who are you?” I glance between the two of them, unsure of what to do. “Whoa, is that a Wookie?!”

It whines at me cockily, making the man roll his eyes. “Oh, give it a rest Chewy, she’s scared out of her mind.” He slides the blaster back into its holder, motioning for the Wookie to do the same.

“You still haven’t told me who you are,” I spit out, trying to muster any confidence.

“We are members of the Resistance, here to rescue you!” The gold droid cries happily. “General Princess Leia will be quite delighted to see you! That is, if we get out of here alive of course.”

“3PO,” the dark haired man sighs wearily. This droid must annoy him a lot. The more I look him over, the more flushed I can feel myself getting. He’s tall, with dark sparkling eyes and messy, fluffy dark curly hair. He’s obviously not used to the humid climate of the planet, since his cotton civilian shirt is clinging to him where he’s sweating. “I’m Commander Poe Dameron, leader of the Black Squadron and on the side of the Resistance. But you can just call me Poe.” He holds out his hand to me, and slowly I lower my frying pan and take it. “The Wookie is Chewbacca, and the droid is C-3PO.” His hand is damp with sweat, but I feel like a current has run through me at his touch. I murmur my name to him shyly, making him smile. “Well, now that we’ve all been formally introduced, let’s get ya outta here.”

“Leave?” I squeak.

“Yeah,” he nods, “Let’s leave. Y’know, before the First Order comes and blows us all to stardust.”

“Yeah,” I nod in agreement. “It’s just- I’ve never been outside this room before and I’m just really nervous, you know? Like what is it like out there, what if there’s something scary, or something that’s gonna try to eat me like the stories with the dark lore creatures and-” I sputter at a million miles a minute, but Poe cuts me off with the confused gaze he’s giving me.

“They’ve never let you out of here before?” I feel like time slows around us, and it’s just me staring into his dark eyes. They soften a little, the cocky spark replaced with something more genuine.

The moment is shattered by the chips of another droid coming from the band on Poe’s arm. “Alright, that was BB-8; we’ve got movement. We’ve gotta get out of here, they’re less than ten minutes away.”

“Oh dear!” 3PO wails. “I’ll be sold off as a servant droid if I’m lucky!”

Poe pulls me along with him out into the hallway, breaking into a run with the others trailing behind us. We make it out to the courtyard before more Stormtroopers appear. “Great,” Poe says sarcastically. “More of these.”

“Leave the asset here! Do not damage the asset! Repeat, do not damage the asset!” One of the command leaders barks to the others. I yelp as shots from blasters fly by me.

“You know how to use one of these?” Poe yells to me over the din. I realize that he’s trying to shove a blaster in my hands, but I don’t know what to do.

“No!” I cry back, terrified.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything!” he says cheerily, pushing it into my hands. “Now shoot!”

I scramble along behind Poe, trying to get one of my many frenzied shots to actually hit something instead of zinging past the troopers following us. Only a mere few yards from the ship that they used, and then- I hear Poe grunt and clutch at his side in pain. Luckily the shot had grazed his torso and didn’t get anything important, but it still grazed him pretty good. Blood started to bloom onto his shirt from his side. I look from him to the blaster in my hand, and shoot the first Stormtrooper I see in the head before tugging Poe up and into the ship. The door pulls up just in time, the sound of blaster shots pinging on the outside of the ship.

“You can’t fly like this,” I say to him. He’s sat down on the floor, me kneeling next to him and trying to assess the wound as well as I can with him covering it. He’s bleeding badly, but Poe shakes his head. “I’m the pilot, I have to.”

“There’s no other pilot?!”

Chewbacca roars as he runs down the hall towards the pilot's cockpit. “Oh fine,” Poe winces. “Get us out of here, Chewy!”

#poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #star wars #poe dameron smut #i watched tangled after tros and this is what my brain came up with #i don't know #my writing #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x oc #star wars imagines #poe dameron fluff

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always5hineee · 4 years

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Profit Margin- Chapter 12: Time Crunch

Chapter warnings: using firearms??

Word count: 1357

-----

"Let's see what you've got." Ten said, pointing to the target in front of her. It was made of a strange material, some sort of weird cross between vinyl and plywood. It was riddled with holes, but they weren't circular, suggesting that the target had some level of self-healing or memory capabilities. As big as the gun she shot at the earlier attacker was, Ten had given her a handgun to start out with. Breathing in deeply, she held it up with her dominant hand, shutting one of her eyes and squeezing the trigger.

It was nowhere near her mark. If she were lucky, it might have hit a target in a different lane altogether. She tensed up as she felt embarrassment wash over her. Even for her, this was pathetic. Sighing, Ten walked close to her, thankful that he was out of range for her shot.

"I'm not sure what movies you're watching, but that's not how you shoot a gun." He stated with a surprisingly patient tone. Reaching out to turn her hand, he stepped behind her to help her feel the position she was meant to be in. "Don't angle your wrist, hold it straight. There'll be some kickback, so be prepared. The more firepower, the harder it'll be to hold steady." His legs were nearly on either side of hers, and she could feel his controlled breathing against her back. Moving his other hand to the opposite side, he fixed her stance.

"The angles all matter, so pay attention. Don't shut your eye, all you're doing is limiting your visibility and messing up your depth perception." He picked up her other wrist, gently bringing it to the side of the firearm. "Hold it with both hands. You should never use one unless it's absolutely necessary." It was only when he stepped back again that she realized she was practically holding her breath. "Okay, now fire again." Staring down the lane to the target, her chest rose sharply before she shot directly towards it. She saw a few pieces splinter off the shoulder of the structure.

"Much better!" He said happily. "You need some practice, obviously, but what else do you have to do, huh?" He grabbed his water bottle off the wall, taking a huge sip, then turned to speak again as he wiped his upper lip. "Just fire straight shots for say... an hour? Then we can go get lunch and come back."

"An hour?" She asked incredulously.

"How else do you expect to improve?"

"It just seems excessive for one type of shot, I-" At this, Ten's gaze quickly shifted from amusement to dead seriousness.

"Y/N, we don't have much time. If you want to be allowed to stay, you have to prove yourself useful, and quickly. It's my job to get you there, no matter what. So no complaining." She sighed.

"Yeah, I get that, but why can't I just go home? I promise I won't tell, really, I just... I just want to go home." She made eye contact with him, hoping to see some semblance of empathy or even pity, but his mood was unchanging, on the surface at least. Whether that was his training, a personal skill, or his real emotions, she was unsure.

"It's talking like that that'll get you sold quicker. Now shoot. For an hour." He walked towards the other end of the shooting range, pulling a much larger gun off of a rack within a cabinet. She curiously watched as he fiddled with it, changing aspects and loading it up. Not hearing any shots, he glanced over, waving her stare away. Embarrassed, she turned to the target. Time to practice...

Surprisingly, the time flew by fairly quickly. Of course, by the end, her arms were fairly sore. She ended up jamming the gun twice during the whole process. Ten had expected this, and was prepared to assist. The first time, he had simply fixed it himself, but the second, he actually showed her the issue and how to deal with it. It was interesting, no matter her familiarity with guns. As she was about to fire another shot, she felt a hand lightly touch on her shoulder. She spun with the weapon, startled.

"Woah, easy there." He put his hands up. "Watch where you put that, I'm not sure I quite trust you with it." She looked to Ten, then back down at the weapon.

"Oh... sorry."

"I'm just messing with you. Your hour is up, you're due for a break. We can go to the kitchen- you understand why I can't exactly take you out." He said, setting his weapon down and motioning for her to do the same. "We'll be back in a minute, so don't worry about that for now." He led her to the elevator, bringing her to the kitchen.

It was huge, but that should have been expected by now. There were at least two of everything, including refrigerators, ovens, microwaves, freezers, even stoves and sinks. There was a massive island countertop in the center, surrounded by barstools and decorated fairly minimally. Actually, the whole place was pretty bland- apparently they didn't feel much need for interior decorating. Walking to the first fridge, Ten opened it up, looking inside.

"We've got all sorts of stuff, but uh, it's mostly leftovers..." He said apologetically. "There's half a burger, uhh, some steak we made the other night, Kun's stir-fry vegetables, uh- oh, score! Lucas left a whole thing of ramen in here!" He pulled it out, showcasing the black plastic bowl. "It's nothing fancy, just instant, but do you want some?" She shrugged.

"Sure, why not?" Fairly overexcited, Ten popped the lid slightly and put the big Tupperware in the microwave, pulling out two smaller bowls from an adjacent cabinet. Once the machine beeped, he pulled it back out, separating it evenly. They ate at the counter side by side, talking for a few minutes. As Y/N didn't really know what was appropriate to ask your idol who is also a criminal kidnapper that you are deathly afraid of, so she let him do most of the asking. It worked out better that way, as he wasn't much of a talker- at least, not with her.

When they had finished, Ten rinsed out the bowls and put them in the dishwasher, directing her to follow him back down to the shooting range. Once they arrived, he made her run a few more drills with the handgun, offering some final, pickier tips. As she felt her elbows grow weak, he finally called it for the day, explaining that they'd pick a different firearm the next day. Next, he showed her how to properly remove the bullets and store a weapon, quickly talking over how one would clean it if they wanted to.

"Good job, by the way." He said. It didn't really mean anything to him, but she felt something spark up in her chest as he said it. Knowing that it probably wasn't healthy, she reminded herself that her goal was to get out of here.

"I'm not exactly sure where they're planning on having you sleep." Ten admitted. "Or else I'd show you to your room. We can't exactly have you in the holding area if you're going to be part of the team. Especially not with the other girls down there." The blood drained from her face as he said this.

"O-other girls?"

"Well, I mean, yeah, we don't just mess around at those concerts- Oh, hold on, I'm getting a call." He pulled his cellphone out of his pockets as she tried to cope with the reality of what he'd just said. Other girls? Were they in danger too? Could she help them?

"Hey, Lucas, I was just gonna ask someone about Y/N's living si- what?" His brow furrowed. "Someone a- Oh, no, that wasn't me. I've been with her downstairs. I thought I saw WinWin eating something earlier, though." He quickly mentioned, hanging up. "Come on, we'd better find you a place to sleep before Lucas stabs me to death."

Go to Chapter 13

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formerprincess · 4 years

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A tale written with fangs and claws || Chapter 56

Chapters: 56/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt Characters: Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken, Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant, Nolan (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Alpha Liam Dunbar, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Dunbar Pack, Bisexual Liam Dunbar, Werewolf Theo Raeken, Alpha Theo Raeken, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, Mates, Liam and Theo are mates, Top Theo Raeken, Bottom Theo Raeken, Top Liam, Bottom Liam Dunbar Series: Part 1 of Morning Dew Pack

The pack finally moves into their new home. It's time to reminisce.

______________________________________________________________

Liam had been excited when Theo and he had moved into their own apartment after moving to Seattle. It wasn’t big but it was his very first apartment, the first thing he and one of his best friends could furnish on their own. Their very own place to fill to their own liking. His parents had given the two boys fairly free reign when it came to picking out stuff as long as it was reasonable and not too expensive. It had been an adventure but despite everything, Liam had not felt as excited as he did now. There was something about driving to the furnishing house with his pack, the task of picking out the furniture for their bedroom in their forever home in mind, something so big Liam could not put it into any words. He was practically buzzing with excitement and the smile on his face could not be contained for longer than a few seconds. Not that he tried very hard.

He wasn’t the only one. His friends were just as excited, constantly babbling, and once they were out of the cars and had passed the entrance, the pack was all over the place. There was just so much to do, furniture to pick, colors to sort out, Sadie had made an entire color concept ton the way here and was now on the hunt for the perfect things to make her vision come true.

“Where should we start?” Liam asked Theo. His mate shrugged. “Why don’t we just walk around and see if anything speaks to us? See what the store has to offer. We can meet later and discuss.” It was probably the best solution and Liam nodded along before he left Theo to his own devices and wandered the aisles.

He found his way to the paints and looked through some example colors. While he loved their bedroom, the white of the walls drove Liam crazy and gave him a headache so he wanted another color for the walls. It had not been a problem in the apartment or the first pack house but maybe because there was so much light in the room and it was so big, the white was now overwhelming.

Liam looked through some brown shades, some cream ones but nothing stood out to him. Until he rounded the corners and found Nolan doing the same. The color palette Nolan was currently holding consisted of white and grays and those were more Liam’s liking. “Oh, can I see this?” He extended his hand and Nolan gladly handed it over. “Already picked out a color for your room?” Liam inquired while he checked the samples. Nolan hummed. “I am kind of torn with going for some brown or green, mixed with white. Then again I saw a teal color earlier and it would be perfect to give the main points.” He shook his head with a soft laugh. “So many possibilities. You really pulled a number with the house, Liam.” “Yeah, well, I am glad that I don’t have to keep it a secret anymore. There were moments when I wanted to cave, tell you everything so we could be excited about the progress in the house together but then I thought about what we’re doing right now and how awesome this would be and I contained myself. I only told Theo because we had this big fight.” Liam used one of those small notepads to scribble down the number of one soft gray paint he liked very much and could totally see on the bedroom walls. He would have to show it to Theo to see if they were on the same page about that one, but it was a start. “I personally think you did it perfectly. That way we can now start right away, pick out our beds and closets, and all that and don’t have to delay it any further. If we would have known beforehand, I think there only would have been chaos.” “Huh. Maybe you’re right,” Liam had not thought about it that way. “Anyway, what’s done is done, no use in thinking what might have been. We’re here now and can pick everything out and that is exciting.”

Nolan walked along with Liam and together they rounded the next corner and found Corey in an aisle looking through some pillows. “Are you two already done with picking your furniture?” Nolan was scandalized. Corey laughed. “No. I just like to have comfy things and those pillows are soft. We are nowhere near picking out our furniture. This came as such a surprise, not even Mason who is very good at planning things had a plan for that.” Liam raised his shoulders in a what can you do kind of move. “Well, I had to tell you about the house. We can move in now, it’s finished. Didn’t want to wait any longer.” “I get that, Lee. It wasn’t a complaint. I simply wanted to point out none of us even considered this option of a new house so soon. And such an amazing house even. Though I am kind of happy it came that way,” Corey admitted thoughtfully. Nolan looked at Liam and raised an eyebrow but Liam had no idea either. “Meaning?” he finally asked. Corey cleared his throat. “The first house was amazing, really. Pretty and nice furniture and the pack could live together. But it was a townhouse and space was limited. Mase and I moved in as well, Lory and Brett came, some additions you could not see beforehand when you moved in. The place was full to the brim, there was not even room for Cedric, not to have his own room at least. I was as devastated as all of you when the house got destroyed but afterward I could not help but think, maybe this was for the better. Now we have this huge house with enough space for all of us and even more rooms in case we have guests or add more pack members. It’s the perfect place for a pack of wolves, not just because of the forest all around.” Corey proved once more how insightful he was and that’s why Liam had wanted him to become the consultant. He thought about things none of the others would have thought about at first. “Wow, you’re right,” Liam mumbled baffled. Corey raised one shoulder and smiled humbly. Then he held up two red pillows, once a darker shade than the others. “What looks better? The darker one left or the lighter one left?” “What do left and right have to do with anything?” Nolan was just as loss as Liam when it came to these things. Corey hurried to explain: “Mason and I once decided he would sleep on the left side of the bed and me on the right. I now try to make it as aesthetically pleasing as possible, you know?” But Liam was kind of caught up with something else. “You and Mason actually had a discussion about who gets which side of the bed?” He crossed his arms and raised both eyebrows. Corey snickered. “Yeah, you and Theo never had one?” “No.” “Which side of the bed Theo sleeps on?” “The right. After we kissed, we slept in the same bed and Theo kinda ended on the right side of the bed. But not because we discussed it, it just happened. Guess we got kind of used to it.” It didn’t even cross Liam’s mind to talk about their sleeping arrangements.

Mason dashed around the corner. “Cor, canopy beds! Come!” And he dragged his husband away. “He is actually right, our old house was crowded.” Nolan furrowed his brows. “Why did none of us ever bring that up?” “Because we learned to live with it? Also, Mike bought it for us and I would have felt bad to run this idea down.” Nolan glanced at him and smirked. “So, Theo’s always on the right side? Because he is always right?” “I swear to god if you ever tell him that, I will push you in the pool. Fully clothed.”

They strolled further down the store and reached the department where all the beds were sold. Here Liam found Theo again who critically eyed a light metal double bed. It was plain, Liam thought it looked okay. “Want that?” He asked. His boyfriend made a face. “No. Look how slim the metal is. How on earth do you expect this bed to fare when we have sex and grab onto the frame?” Theo looked at Liam and the young Alpha crunched his nose. “Oh, right.” Yeah, that was a problem. “So what? You want a bed frame made from wood?” “If it doesn’t splinter, yeah.” Theo nodded and walked over to one of the ugliest beds Liam had ever seen. The wood was yellowy and it looked bulky. “No! Theo, no! I will never let you buy this bed for us!” “It’s sturdy.” Theo knelt down and tugged on the frame. “It’s hideous!” Liam glared at the frame as if had personally offended him. Since this seemed to take a while, he sat down on another bed and watched his mate. “We could paint it? By the way, what do you got there?” He pointed at the note pad in Liam’s hand. Liam raised it. “Scribbled down the number of some soft gray paint I liked. Think it would look good on our walls.” “Gray?” “Yes. Well, not dark gray but some lighter grey. It looks good, I promise.” Theo held out the hand for the notepad and when Liam handed it over he disappeared back to the paints.

Liam, left to his own devices, got up again and wandered between the beds. He inspected a few more frames. Unlike his best friends, Liam could not see any beauty in canopy beds (though he found Sadie in one of the biggest beds he had ever seen and she seemed in heaven) and didn’t want one in his bedroom. A futon bed didn’t tickle his fancy either. It was hard because now that they had the house and basically started from scratch, Liam had a faint vision in his head how he wanted his bedroom to look like. In consultation with Theo, of course.

He continued to wander around and looked at an array of beds but with the things Theo had said in mind, none of those were even considered by him. He bypassed Maya and Sadie, the latter had seemingly left her heavenly canopy bed, who bickered about a room all made from bamboo (”It looks like you’re living in the rain forest.” “Maybe I want it that way?!”) and rounded a corner. He stepped around a lady and her husband arguing about how their bed was too small for her dog to also sleep there. Caught up in their funny exchange, Liam did not watch his step and literally stumbled over a bed. He stubbed his toe against one of the feet and jumped around on one leg thanks to the pain shooting through his toe. “Ouch! Fuck!”

He continued to jump around and hold his foot until Liam almost lost his balance and grabbed the next best thing in reach. It was a headboard of one of the beds and talk about sturdy. That thing had kept him not only upright but didn’t even move under Liam’s grip. Huh. He put his foot down again and rounded the bed to take a closer look at it. It was a beautiful and yet simple bed frame made from white wood with a soft gray shine and three wooden planks as the headboard with little space between the planks “That’s a nice bed.” Liam jumped three feet into the air and spun around to Theo. “You need a bell around your neck!” he hissed. Theo laughed softly. “Not really into the whole bell around my neck thing. Maybe a bell as a piercing?” “You’re not into piercings,” Liam reminded his mate. Theo just shrugged. “I would be into them if you had any.” They looked at each other and Liam had no idea if his boyfriend was serious or not. “If I would be the one pierced, I still would not hear you”, he said meekly. Theo grinned again. “Back to the topic ahead, a nice bed you stumbled upon.” “Literally stumbled”, Liam grumbled. He watched Theo read the price tag and tug on the frame, run his hands over the wood. “Does this meet your requirements?” Theo seemed satisfied. “It looks great, the color is pretty. Speaking of, I checked the color you picked out, I like it. Better than the white walls we have now. The bed will fit right in.” Now Liam smiled. “Great.” “Coincidentally I found a wardrobe to match. Come on.” Theo held out his hand and Liam took it so his boyfriend could pull him off to show his newest found.

The wardrobe was big enough for the two of them (although Liam was still convinced Theo owned way more clothes than he did and he would be convinced of this to his dying day) and was simply kept in shiny white with grey stripes in the doors. After they figured that out, the rest of the shopping went by easily, and sure enough, they had gathered everything they needed to furnish their new bedroom.

When they met with the rest of the pack and had paid, however, a new problem arose: “How are we getting all this stuff to the house? Not even Theo’s truck is big enough for all that,” Maya realized with horror. “Mike’s gone, he said he had an idea and left,” Tim knew but where his best friend went, he had no idea. He pushed Mike’s cart around, just like his own, and guarded it until Mike returned. Which happened just that very moment. Mike walked up to them, jingling car keys in one hand. “A moving van is parked outside. I know a guy, he said we can have it for today. Have you already paid?” “We have. Goodbye to all my savings but it was absolutely worth it.” Brett was sure of that.” Mason clapped his hands. “Great. So, let’s load everything in, shall we?”

****** Painting the rooms was the first step after they went back home and unloaded everything from the moving van. And Ever was an absolute lifesaver since she went in every freshly painted room and used her fire magic to heat it up and make the paint dry faster than average. It made putting the furniture together and positioning it right a lot easier.

Theo and Liam had decided to split it up, Theo was assembling the bed, Liam was working on their new wardrobe. He sat on the floor and worked smoothly. Theo had already managed to put together the largest parts of the frame on one side and was now working on the other. Liam looked over. “Corey told me earlier, he and Mason discussed who sleeps on which side of the bed.” “Really?” Theo checked the instruction sheet and only now raised his head. “Yeah. He then asked if we did the same and I declined. It never actually crossed my mind. You?” “God no!” Theo shook his head. “It just fell into place and that’s amazing. I like this with you. It’s easy.” Liam had returned to screwing and stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his boyfriend. “Easy?” He raised his head. “Because I’m simple or what?” “Neither what I said nor what I meant.” “Really? Then how did you mean it?” “How I said it. It’s easy being with you. The relationship is easy.” He noticed Liam’s face and elaborated further: “I had high maintenance partners. The ones who only accepted and liked expensive gifts and luxurious dates. You, on the other hand, do not care about luxury or money. You are fine with us going to a pizza place as long as we are together and having a good time. Doesn’t mean I don’t have to put any effort into our relationship but knowing you will be happy about a self-made gift and not demand a three hundred dollar watch as a present is nice, actually.” The sweet words conciliated Liam and he smiled. But then he had to ask. “Who did you date that wanted such an expensive watch?” Liam was curious. “Damien.” “Yeah..that guy was a jerk.” Theo chuckled. “He hated you.” “He did?” “Hm, the minute he laid his eyes on you and saw how we were talking to each other, he saw you as a threat.” “Oh well, I didn’t like him either.” Theo pointed a screwdriver at Liam. “We are not having this conversation about exes. I hated all of yours if you must know, but that’s all I’m saying about that.” “Okay, okay, fine by me.” Liam returned to tending to the wardrobe.

They worked together in silence, aside from a few words here and there, but most of the time they were busy with setting everything up. Despite their open door they barely heard anything from the other members, they all did the same as Liam and Theo. Caden turned out to be an insanely good handyman and lent a hand anywhere it was needed. Finally, the bed was finished and Theo helped Liam with the installment of the last door. Together they pushed the wardrobe where they wanted it to be. And then together they put the mattress on the slatted frame. Almost in sync, the couple dropped down on it and both groaned. “God, I missed having a bed,” Theo moaned. “Don’t have to tell me, I slept on the same couch as you. Well, except for that one night I stayed in Washington but you can’t count that since you didn’t sleep next to me,” Liam thought out loud. Theo turned his head and looked at him and Liam did the same. “Lee, I vowed to myself the minute our bed is set up we would have sex but to be completely honest, I am exhausted.” He understood. “Me too. Hey, it was a long day of hard work. It’s already afternoon. Our room is set up, that’s the most important thing. We can have sex for the rest of your lives.” Theo leaned over Liam. “Counting on it.” He kissed him lovingly.

****** Liam woke up with his head on Theo’s chest. They had fallen asleep on the bed and didn’t wake up for several hours. It was dark outside and Liam saw the stars sparkle in the sky. Another thing about living on the outskirts of the city, you experienced nature differently. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. Theo next to him moved as well and yawned. “We fell asleep? How long?” Theo sat up too and ran a hand through his hair. “Couple of hours. It’s dark outside. I’m hungry.” Now that he was a little bit more awake, Liam noticed his stomach rumbling.

He got to his feet and pulled Theo up as well. Together the couple left their room and walked downstairs. They heard voices from the kitchen area and found almost everyone there. “Oh hey you! Brett and Cade are on the run for some burgers and fries. Hope you’re hungry,” Nolan exclaimed once he saw the Alpha couple. Really, that sounded delicious to Liam’s ears right now. He had barely eaten and was now hungry like a wolf...pun not intended. The timing was perfect since Brett and Caden returned at this very moment, loaded with bags full of fries and burgers. The pack settled around the dining room table, soft drinks were grabbed as well as glasses and soon they all sat and munched happily.

“So, that’s it. We really moved into our new house,” Maya announced after a while and the pack rejoiced. Liam swallowed the bite he just took and nodded. “Yeah. A new beginning.” He laughed softly. “It’s crazy. Not even a year since I became an Alpha and so much already happened.” "Do you regret anything, Liam?” Nolan inquired. “Regret, not directly. But I will be the first to admit, had I’ve been able to choose, I would have wished for more time between all those things. Like, the space in the old house became limited and I would have liked it better if we had the time to find a new home for all of us without being homeless, not gonna lie. And I obviously would have voted for not almost getting killed several times during this year. I know it from Beacon Hills but it’s still different as an Alpha. So yeah, I would have wished for a few more time between the bad stuff but I don’t regret one single thing.” He looked around. “I’m actually quite proud of this pack and how far we’ve come.” It reminded him. “Oh, by the way, guys, for the next time I don’t want any strangers in this house, okay? Only pack. I consider parents an extension of the pack so this is okay but no study groups or friends from university. Please?” His betas looked at each other. “A reasonable request. We had strangers come into our home and destroy it. Understandable you do not want anyone not related to the pack here in the foreseen future,” Lori adjudged. The others had to agree with that. “You’re the Alpha, we do as you say,” Sadie summed it up. Liam was glad his pack understood where he was coming from. “Ever?” “Yeah?” She sipped her lemonade and looked at him. “Can you find out if there are any ban spells you can use to protect the house? Obviously, the pack must be able to cross the border but maybe a circle around the house?” She pondered on it. “There should be some spells for that. I’ll have a look into that.” “Great. Mason can help you with that. Right, Mason?” “Of course, Lee.”

With that out of the way, Maya could not help but reminisce. “I remember our first interaction. You gave me your sandwich because I collapsed.” “And then you came to our apartment. I had no idea what I was doing at that time. But you needed help. All I’m saying is kale juice.” Maya and Theo laughed and she scrunched her nose. “Don’t remind me of the kale juice.” “Kale juice?” Lori questioned curiously while she munched her fries. “I drank it to weaken my wolf before the full moon. Since I didn’t have control over it, I needed its power to be lessened. I also broke my bones to stop my transformation.” Lori looked horrified and then apologetic. “I’m sorry for being nosy.” “Don’t be. It’s my story. It is what it is. Theo and Liam were a great help. Lee forced my wolf out, that was terrifying but needed. And the following weeks he helped me train it.” Liam leaned forward and put his elbows in the table. “I didn’t even want to be an Alpha. When Byron asked me, I first said no. But then I got convinced and became one. That was it, my plan ended there. I didn’t even think about my own pack, I had one at the lake. And I considered myself still part of Scott’s pack. Then Maya came and all of a sudden, I had a female Beta.” She smiled proudly. “Then Theo got sick,” Maya added, “Nolan came home and joined us. Oh gosh, the wendigo.” “The wendigo, at the same time Ever came around, and I met Sadie,” Liam remembered it as if it was only yesterday. Sadie giggled. “I gave you all a run for your money because I didn’t want to be a part of the pack.”

"Why didn’t you want to?” Caden asked softly. He turned towards Sadie, indicating he was interested in her story. “My parent’s pack is full of judgemental people. I am a werewolf with IED, just like Liam. I can’t take any meds for that since they don’t work for a werewolf and it’s not like you can ask your human doctor for something else suited for your animalistic side. My parents even asked healers, emissaries, or other werewolves but it always came down to control. She needs to learn control. That’s what they always said. Learning control is already bad but mixed with such a condition, it’s worse. I heard the people whisper about me and my parents. When we stepped out to buy groceries or eat dinner, I heard how they said they pitied my parents, how they would be mortified to have a daughter like me. So for me, a pack was just judging you and I was fine with being an Omega. During full moons, I chained myself up and that was it. Otherwise, I pretended not to be what I am.” The blonde looked at Liam, Maya, and Theo. She smiled. “I kept them all at bay, just hanging out with them.” “Until you saved a girl from getting killed by the wendigo”, Ever cut in. “Until I saved a girl from getting killed by the wendigo the pack was hunting around this time. It made me realize I could use my supernatural powers to more than just being a shame to my parents or just being aggressive. That I could help other people without those abilities. I made the decision to join the pack and it was the right one.” “We’re happy to have you as part of the pack,” Nolan admitted and she gently grabbed his arm and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.” “Although, admittedly, someone else gave you a hard time as well” Maya teased and snickered in Theo’s direction. Liam laughed. “Don’t glare at her, T, she’s right. You were jealous of Sadie.” Theo defended himself and huffed. “I thought she was replacing me as your friend, okay?” Maya scoffed. “Please! You imagined how their kids would look like!” “What??” Sadie and Liam were equally shocked and stared at Theo. He shot Maya a dead glare. “Next time you walk in front of me on the stairs, I will push you.” “Naw, Theo, you didn’t have to be jealous. It was clear as day Liam was in love with you back then”, Sadie claimed and patted his arm. He huffed again. “Change of topic, please!”

“Okay. After the wendigo, we didn’t get so much of a breather when a rogue Alpha came to town,” Nolan chimed in. A few pack members groaned. Ever put her glass on the table. “I never told you that, Liam, but before you fought the Alpha, you said goodbye. It sounded like goodbye. That scared the crap out of me. But it also proved to me I made the right decision in following you. An Alpha willing to put his life on the line to save a bunch of partying college students.” Liam shrugged. “What other choice did I have? He wanted me. No one else should have suffered because of that.”

They fell silent for a moment. “If someone would have told me by going to this party I would be attacked and therefore find the best friends I ever had, I would have laughed at them,” Tim quietly confessed. Mike snorted. “If someone would have told me I would find myself thrown into jail with you guys weeks after the party, I don’t know if I would have been gone in the first place.” Brett furrowed his brows. “A part of me thinks it’s better not to ask, another part is highly curious. Why were you thrown into jail?” “Because we had a brawl in a back alley with some idiot. Someone called the police and we were arrested. Isaac bailed us out,” Maya filled in. And Mike added: “I really didn’t wanna be part of the pack but seeing those people were crazy enough to get thrown into jail for one another, I figured they might be my type of crazy. And I joined. I think I was the most difficult Beta to ever join Liam.” “You were difficult,” Liam agreed, “But, if that is any consolation, you share the number one spot with Sadie and Brett.” Brett stopped with his last piece of burger on its way to his mouth. He thought this over. “You might be right about this,” he finally concluded and threw the rest of his burger in his mouth.

“Speaking of difficult, aside from your friends from Beacon Hills who clearly joined your pack immediately, which Betas was the easiest to join the pack?” Lori asked out of curiosity. “Maya in terms of working with the pack, Ever, and Caden.” That was an easy question in Liam’s books. “Even though I feel Caden kind of got the short end of the stick with everything going on. Sorry about that.” He meant it and gave him an apologetic look. But Caden shook his head. “It’s fine. I transferred in the middle of the year and you were there, talked to me, explained things to me. You even invite me to your house and thanks to you I met an amazing woman.” He raised his hand which held Ever’s. She smiled happily and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You gave me something to belong and for the first time my wolf side truly felt settled.”

That was good, Liam was happy about that. He had no ranking for his Betas, wanted them all to be happy and feel equally welcome in his pack. “Great. I’m also happy you two are back”, he addressed Lori and Brett. “Even though I still have no idea how.” “Oh, I have an idea. I looked further into this and I think it had something to do with the ritual Celia did. We already know she opened a portal or whatever for demons to come into this world and my guess is she managed to thin out the veil between the worlds or so to speak. That would explain all those strange things in the forest before Brett and Lori showed up,” Ever set up a theory. It was a possibility. “Celia was the witch you fought against?” Lori was not so sure of it. “Yes. Be happy you haven’t met her. She almost killed Liam twice.” Sadie threw her hair over her shoulder and made a face. “She can be glad she’s gone or I would have dragged her to her death myself.” “That would have been my pleasure but you could have assisted me”, Theo reminded her. “Oh, yeah, right. I would have assisted Theo in ripping her apart.”

Liam leaned back and laughed with his pack. It was freeing to talk about all the stuff they’ve been through and laugh about it now. It had been terrifying and left their marks but they all survived it and he learned in Beacon Hills this was the one thing that counted. Still. “Around that time last year, I would have not expected to become an Alpha. Or become an older brother for that matter. In some ways, I feel like I have grown more in the past year than in all the years in Beacon Hills together.” “Really?” Theo was surprised. “Yes. I mean, when I came to Beacon Hills I was battling my IED, had almost no control over my emotions and then I got bitten. All this creepy stuff happened and it shaped me but nowhere near as close as this last year. At least, in my opinion.” Brett had chewed his burger and hummed. “Well, Liam, between Mason and I, we know you the longest. I have to say the Beacon Hills Liam doesn’t hold a candle to the Liam you are today. And this Liam right here is pretty impressive. Right, Mason?” “Couldn’t have said it better.” Mason grinned at his best friend.

To sum the last year up, Liam used a metaphor. “The last year, everything happened so fast. One thing and then the other and then another. It was like a snowball running. But you guys are the best snowball ever.” “Aww!” The pack cooed and Liam laughed. “You’re the best Alpha ever, Liam. And it’s great all our paths crossed!” Maya exclaimed. “There is a theory of soul strings. The idea that a person is connected to various other persons all over the world. Some as loved ones, some as enemies, some as friends, and so on. The string between those people leads them to one another and one day they cross paths. It is destined. I like that theory,” Caden shared with his friends. “It’s a soul pack,” Ever cited, “When you find your soul pack, you will know because you'll feel like you can be yourself and also that you can still be yourself even if you are nothing of the things you thought you were or that you needed to be.”

****** Theo like their new bathroom, Liam realized once they all finished eating and the cleaned everything up before ultimately decided to sleep for real for a few hours. The Alpha couple went back to their room and changed into their nightclothes and then made their way into the bathroom to brush their teeth. The nice thing about the room was the two washbowls and thus both could brush their teeth without being in the way of each other. The shower had also two heads but the bathroom had already been finished when Liam got the house so he really could not be held accountable for that one. It was a nice touch tho.

And when he saw how bis boyfriend like the space and their new rain shower, he felt justified in keeping the bathroom the way it was. Their towel racks were heatable, especially for someone like Theo, who despised the cold, it was almost paradise.

So he left the older to his devices after he brushed his teeth and climbed into bed already. This mattress was heaven and the aspect of finally sleeping in his own bed again was pure heaven for Liam. He closed his eyes and stretched lazily, happy as it can be. Their new sheets were comfy as well, it was a possibility he would never get up again.

“Enjoying our new bed?” Theo chuckled when he finally emerged the bathroom, turned the light off, and crawled into bed with Liam as well. He sighed. “I can see why.” A yawn escaped him. “Fast healing or not, my back suffered on the couch. This bed is exactly the right medicine to make up for it.” He yawned again. Liam laughed to himself and snuggled closer to Theo. “Good night.” He kissed his boyfriend’s cheek and slung one arm over Theo’s stomach. Theo draped one arm around him and pulled him closer. “Good night, Liam.”

Silence spread out in the room and soon enough Liam heard Theo’s steady breathing. His boyfriend had fallen asleep. Liam himself was not that lucky, he was tired but could not sleep yet. Instead, he laid in bed, listened to Theo’s breathing and steady heartbeat, and watched little lights swirl through the dark outside the window. Fireflies, maybe. It was a soft atmosphere, safe, exactly what Liam had wanted and craved for so long. It was another cut in their lives, something new had just started, but he knew they were on the right track. Things were looking up again and they all felt a lot better than at the beginning of the week. Sitting downstairs and remember all of the things made Liam realize once again how far he had already come and how proud he should be of himself. He had reached several milestones and could give himself a pat on the back for never losing hope. Despite all struggles, they were still standing tall. It made him proud of his pack as well. He had awesome Betas. Liam yawned. Yeah, awesome Betas. And he fell asleep.

****** The next days were still moving into the new house, decorating their rooms, and making the house completely theirs. The wall in the entrance hall now hung full with pictures of the pack and it got more and more homely. Coming home felt always like a dream coming true to Liam.

He walked into Mike’s room on a quiet day since they were the only two in the house and he just wanted to check on him. It had not taken long for Mike to set up his computers and work station where he constantly disassembled various tech stuff and was roaming around the internet. He was working when Liam entered the room. “Hey, Mike.” “Hey.” Mike pressed a button and a female voice sounded up. “Hello, Alpha Dunbar.” Liam looked around. “Where did that came from?” “That’s Kennedy. I created our very own security system. And called it Kennedy because I like the name. Do you like it? You can control her over voice.” “Yeah, uh, Mike, that’s...awesome. But we’re not the Avengers. You know that, right?” Mike spun around in his chair and faced Liam. He rolled his eyes. “I know but hear me out. You said you wanted protection for the house and no strangers. While I’m not Ever or Mason and can’t do some magical juju I can take care of burglars or intruders. I created an app exclusively for us. You know the security system at the front door has this little screen showing you who is at the gate. I can link this to the app and you get the camera picture on your phone, we all can get it on our phones. That way we have the control and always know who is at our property. Your property, whatever.” Liam grimaced. “I didn’t really intend to use the security cameras outside.” “Really? Liam, that is a very expensive, highly developed security set. To literally leave them hanging there would be a waste. Come on, please! I even added a messenger to the app so we all can stay in contact without worrying about sending a wrong text to a wrong number or someone reading what we are saying. Security all around, safe from attacks from the outside.” He was torn. Liam knew he had money now but he refused to become a rich person desperate to stay private and paranoid about his safety. Then again, one house had already been destroyed, he didn’t want to take any chances. “Okay, set up Kennedy. But, for the love of lacrosse, tell her to stop addressing me as Alpha Dunbar. Liam is enough.”

Mike beamed at him and immediately went to work. Later that evening, once everybody else was at home, he went around with a little cardboard box. “I need your phones.” “Why?” Sadie clutched her roségold phone close to her chest. “I want to install an app on it. Liam said it was fine.” The blonde looked at Mike’s outstretched hand and then to Liam. Her face clearly said Are you serious? Liam motioned towards Mike. “It’s okay, Sads.” She glared at Mike, still hesitant, but gave him her phone. “If you install any jump scare on it, I will suffocate you in your sleep.” “What do you need our phones for?” Theo also wanted to know. Mike explained. “Kennedy is our security system. Once somebody rings the doorbell or the bell outside of the gate, you can get into the app and see who it is. It also reacts to voice demands and has a messenger included for when we want to talk about supernatural stuff and not use any other messenger app where we have others added as well. Good enough for all of you?” “I like that idea. Has something of a secret spy organization.” Of course, that was right up Tim’s alley. His eyes sparkled. “You needed to tell me how this works. Can we use code names?” “Code names? I can’t remember code names.” Lori didn’t want that and shook her head. “But I like the general idea of the app. Good call, Mike.”

"There are two delivery guys at the front door”, Kennedy announced adjust this very moment. Liam leaped to his feet and toward the front door. The doorbell rang and he opened the door to come face to face with two package delivery guys holding a rectangle-shaped thing wrapped in a white sheet. It seemed quite heavy cause that one guy had a red face and was sweating. “Liam Dunbar?” He croaked. “That’s me.” And Liam almost got hit in the face by the clipboard. He grabbed it with a glare and signed the sheet and the guys set the delivery down. “Bye.” They turned around, got into their car, and left the premises.

Liam stared at the delivered package. “What did you buy now?” Theo appeared next to him and eyed the thing critically. “You’ll see soon enough.” Liam grabbed it and groaned. “I need help with that. Not from you!” Theo gave him an indignant look when he refused his help. “I need the two tallest ones to hang it on the wall. Brett! Caden!” The two appeared in the hallway and looked quizzical. “Are you into art now? Is that what this is? Liam, the art lover?” Brett joked but grabbed it nonetheless. Together with Caden, he carried it inside and Liam hurried after them. “It should hang in the living room, on that one empty wall. The hangers are already there you can put it up. Please and thank you.” “Is this really art?” Caden inquired while he and Brett hoisted it up and hung it where Liam wanted it to be. The rest of the pack also joined, lured in by the commotion. Brett tugged at the white sheet once it hung on the wall and Liam smacked his hand away. The tall werewolf hissed and pulled his hand away. “Ouch! Brutal, much?” “You really need to be more patient,” Lori lectured her brother. He just rolled his eyes. Liam meanwhile tugged on the sheet carefully. “Shana helped me with that one, I hope it works the way it’s supposed to,” he muttered and finally managed to drag the sheet fully away.

It revealed a large midnight blue canvas. In the left upper corner was a simplified drawing of the lake and a few trees. Little pictures of the council members of the lake were listed next to the drawing, all names written in golden letters, and the pictures had small silver frames. Right in the middle of the canvas were pictures of Liam and Theo right next to each other. Their frames were golden, just like their names beneath the pictures. And a bit beneath them came a line of the Betas. Each picture next to the other and in the order of how they joined the pack. Their names were also written in gold but their pictures were framed in silver, just like the Betas from the lake. Each picture was connected with a small golden line and each came together at the Alpha’s picture. Above Corey’s and Mason’s and Byron’s and Lana’s lines were two small golden rings joined with each other, above the line between Liam’s and Theo’s picture were two small paw prints. Brett and Lori had a line with two small triangles, just like Liam and Landon had. One triangle had just the outline, the other was filled on the inside. It was a beautifully crafted family tree with enough space to expand should the pack ever face new additions. “Oh my, Liam, this is beautiful.” Sadie had both hands in front of her mouth and was tearing up a bit. She wasn’t the only one. Others were also emotional. “From how the pictures are arranged, it looks like we all are siblings”, Tim noticed. “Aren’t we?” Maya replied and gave him a warm smile. He looked at her and also had to smile. “You are the first siblings I like.” He wrapped his arms around her and she scrunched her nose in happiness and ran a hand through his hair. “This is truly beautiful,” Theo praised their Alpha. Liam was happy. “I read about it in the Alpha’s journal and wanted to put it up here. I asked Shana to help me and she did. Oh, wait.” He walked into the kitchen and returned with a pen. “Shana said there’s a little bit of magic, as it’s written in the journal. So, Theo, will you start? We sign one another. Here in that corner.” Theo took the pen and signed the canvas. His signature appeared in gold but then disappeared into thin air. “Whoa!” Liam held two fingers a few centimetres away from each other. “A little bit of magic.” One after the other signed in the left lower corner. All of their signatures glowed goldenly but then disappeared. Liam was the last one to sign. He exhaled loudly. “Okay, now flash your eyes. Corey, this should work with your powers as well, so if you could help out the humans, that would be amazing.” Corey nodded with a smile and grabbed Mason’s and Nolan’s hands. The wolves flashed their eyes and Ever let some of her magic swirl around her.

The family tree changed its appearance quite drastically. In the right corner now stood a full moon with some clouds wavering in front of it. The eyes of every wolf in the pack flashed in their respective colors. Ever’s picture had fire dance around her like she used often in real life, Mason’s picture had mountain ash particles float around him, and Corey’s pictures had some green outline and appeared and disappeared again and again. Nolan’s picture had two crossed arrows flowing under him. “That is so cool. Almost how it’s done in Harry Potter.” Tim’s voice was full of admiration and he stared wide-eyed at the family tree. The others were equally as stunned. “I never, and I mean that with the highest respect to my blood family, have ever been prouder to be part of such an amazing family tree.” Maya was practically beaming. Brett chuckled. “The surprises just keep coming. But that is one of the best surprises I’ve ever gotten. Thank you, Liam.” A chorus of thank yous and other expressions of gratitude fell from his Beta’s lips. Liam laughed. “I was really, really nervous about that, and had no idea if it would work. It’s an old tradition but since it worked so amazingly, why not have it back?” “I am pretty sure Shana will be very happy to hear what she helped make had such fantastic results.” Mason squeezed Liam’s shoulder softly. “Thank you, man.” “Ah, stop saying thank you. I just rediscovered a tradition of this pack.” Liam didn’t want to carry off the laurels. He just had done what many Alphas before him also has done. “Let’s just say, it’s the symbol for a new start? No matter what life throws at us, we stick together and are always by each other’s sides.” “Word!” Caden declared and his fellow pack mates wholeheartedly agreed.

“Life is good now, don’t you think?” Liam had gained his positive outlook back and was just happy. About the house, his friends, his love life, everything. “Next thing, well the next big thing, is the garden. We already gathered some ideas, thanks to Brett, and we started to plant some rose bushes but there is still so much to do. Yet, the fairies seem to like the garden already.” It was more thinking out loud than actually talking to his pack but they still had heard him and now cut into Liam’s train of thoughts. “Fairies?!” “Yeah, we have fairies in the garden. have you never noticed before? Those little floating lights?” Liam explained what he had seen several times now since they moved into the house. He had considered it fireflies but they were too bright for that and soared too collected. “Are we talking about those little things with tiny wings?” Corey was confused. “Yeah. Do you know other fairies?” “There are no fairies. Our garden has no fairies. I’ve never seen a floating light in our garden.” Theo shook his head. “Fairies don’t exist, Liam.” “Why?” Liam answered with a question of his own. “What, why?” “Why do fairies not exist? Why does every scary and creepy thing in the books exist but not good things like fairies?” “If fairies exist, and I’m not saying they do, but if they exist, you don’t know if they're good, baby,” Theo told Liam with a condescending smile. Liam glowered at him. “Just because you have not seen them yet, you say that. I know what I saw and I think they exist!” “I think fairies exist too”, Tim chimed in. When he saw Liam’s hopeful expression, he relented, however. “I haven’t seen on in our garden but I still think they exist. Liam is actually right, who says only the bad supernatural things exist and the good ones are just fantasy?” “You are thinking about an ideal world where everything is in balance. For any bad is equally as much good. But the world is not always fair and given the track record we had so far, I think it’s safe to say there are more bad supernatural beings in this world than good ones”, Mason made up his mind. “Yeah but then again fairies are magical creatures and if they do not exist magic shouldn’t exist either.” Now it was Ever’s turn. “There is so much more between heaven and earth and not even supernatural beings know everything. Heck, it could be highly possible dragons exist somewhere.” “Are we counting dragons to good or bad magical beings? Because living in a world with real, gigantic dragons scares me, to be honest,” Nolan called out. “How did we get from tiny fairies to literally the other end of the spectrum?” Maya had lost the train of thought. “Guys, I get saved by a literal ghost wolf from time to time. How can you expect me not to believe that fairies exist as well then?” Liam didn’t understand that logic. Theo shook his head hastily. “I don’t joke around with ghosts. Those are a whole other level. Ghosts exist but they’re not the same as fairies.” Liam huffed and Theo laced their fingers together. “I don’t want you to get frustrated. If you think fairies are real then they’re real.” “Of course I am frustrated. You don’t believe me.” “Maybe one day you can catch a fairy and show it to us. Then we would believe you”, Mike offered a solution. Liam was shocked. “I would never catch another being just to show it off. Despite they are fast and I’m not that dumb to not think all of you would film me running around in our garden, trying to catch them.” His friends grinned and Liam had his answer. “You’re mean. Landon also believes in fairies.” “But Landon’s nine. Liam, I think it’s amazing you and your brother get along so great and share the same imagination. But to name him to prove your idea is kind of silly. He’s a child. At his age, I also thought Santa was real”, Corey said softly, clearly, he intended not to hurt Liam’s feelings or make it seem as if he was badmouthing Landon. “Children and fools tell the truth,” Brett cited. “There are theories talking about how only kids can see a certain type of supernatural beings. Guardian angels and yes, fairies as well. Because as a kid you have a certain innocence and the more you grow up the more you lose said innocence. Only a few people keep their innocence in a way they can see those beings. It is possible Liam is one of these people. That way he would never be able to prove the existence of fairies to us and we have to believe him. And before you ask, yes, I do believe fairies exist.” He raised his chin and looked at his friends, almost as if he was tempting them to say anything. And Liam smirked. Good to have a few believers in his corner.

______________________________________________________________

I am sorry I took so long to upload. I hope there are still a few people left who are still interested in this story and enjoyed this new chapter. If you did, let me know what you thought of it in the comments. And also tell me, do you believe fairies exist? Yes or no?

#thiam #A tale written with fangs and claws #alpha!liam #Morning Dew Pack series #My writing

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Next Stop, Everywhere

Chapter 24: Angelic Detour

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

(Minerva’s face claim: Victoria Camacho)

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Chapter summary: The Weeping Angels have attacked and trapped Minerva, the Doctor and Martha in 1969. They have to try to live a normal life for the time being. Of course, there's a reason why Minerva's so angry with the Doctor and Martha. Plus, there's a birthday coming up...

// Story Masterlist //

Late September, 1969.

"You idiot! You did this to us on purpose?" I smacked the Doctor on the arm and Martha did the same to his other arm. We were both equally angry with him right now.

The three of us walked down a dark street of London...in 1969. This was nowhere near the place we wanted to go to and yet this was the place we would be stuck in for God knows how much time.

"At least he had the audacity to wait for me to get back," Martha shook her head, "Because letting a Weeping Angel send us back to 1969 together was so much better."

"I was trying to keep us together!" The Doctor tried making a defense but Martha and I smacked him again.

"Wouldn't it have been smarter to run?" Martha raised an eyebrow at him.

"Couldn't exactly do that!"

"What do you mean!? It's what you always do!" I shouted, attracting some of the attention of the people walking past us.

The Doctor, Martha, and I had had a good run of trips lately, and then came the damn statues. Martha and I found ourselves in an old mansion in 2007, courtesy of the Doctor who didn't even bother to tell us the purpose of that destination...until now. We'd found ourselves surrounded by 'Weeping Angels' and were touched by the same one...thanks to the Doctor. Next thing we knew, we were in London, 1969.

"But this sort of already happened," he reached inside his coat's pocket and pulled out a file, "According to Sally Sparrow, the Doctor, Minerva Souza and Martha Jones get sent back to 1969 by Weeping Angels," he read off the file.

"It's called rewriting history!" Martha shouted.

"But if we didn't do this, this Sally woman could be harmed, and is that something either of you are okay with?" He looked between us with a knowing look. "Hm?"

"I have my humanity," I grumbled, the answer being of course I'd get stuck in 1969 to avoid the harm of Sally, even if I never met her.

"A bit too much, mind you," Martha mumbled, "You're too sweet."

"Sue me for being too kind," I shrugged.

"It'll be fine," the Doctor assured, "We'll all be fine. Just as long as we follow everything on this," he gestured to the file, "Just fine."

"I'm mad at you," I declared. Even if this had to happen, he could've at least had the courtesy to tell Martha and I in advance so we wouldn't have been so terrified of those damn statues.

"You'll get over it!"

"Just like I may be 'too' sweet, I may be too angry."

"Oooh, I'd like to see some of that," Martha smirked, "I've never seen Minerva actually, properly mad."

The Doctor seemed a bit uneasy but this time I was seriously pissed off. And not just with him...Martha too. I learned a secret the two shared, and it was something I didn't expect to be hidden. But they did...

I was making my way to the console room, to continue our adventures...when I heard shouting.

"Kaeya WIPED her memories CLEAN? Doctor, don't you see?" Martha was shouting, making rounds around the console as she fumed, "She PURPOSELY did it! After everything that happened, she cleaned Minerva's head because she was coming back and wanted a chance with YOU," she pointed at the Doctor.

I raised an eyebrow, about to walk in and find out what the hell she was going on about...but I decided to stay back. If I came in, everything would stop and I wouldn't get my answers. So I hid in the corridors, listening intently to what they had to say.

"I can't...I can't believe Kaeya would do something like that. She wouldn't...perhaps it was the necklace's way of preventing pain," the Doctor was saying.

"What kind of pain would be so great that she had to forget everything?"

"A heartbreak," he breathed.

"Doctor, I'm telling you, Kaeya did this," Martha walked up to him, "When we were hiding, and we visited the TARDIS, Minerva had the necklace on and...Doctor, her EYES flashed BLUE. That's when she felt the watch being opened."

"Blue?"

"Yeah, and who had blue eyes?"

"...Kaeya."

"She possessed Minerva, and when she was done she wiped her head clean. How can you love someone like that? She's utterly selfish!"

"She doesn't do that...she can't. There-there has to be something else to it, something we don't know," the Doctor turned away.

Everything fell silent, but my mind raced with the questions. Had Kaeya had taken my memory away? What for? Why?

What had I done to make Kaeya want to take my memories away? I had done what she asked for. I delivered her message: she was alive. Why had I still been punished? I was furious. Furious with Kaeya...I had literally done nothing to get her hatred. So what had happened?

But apart from that, I was fuming because the people I cared about, who were supposedly like a family...hid that secret from me. I had my memories wiped clean and they didn't tell me by who. They knew who had done it and they kept quiet, acted like it had been just an accident from all the chaos.

I was hurt.

And hurt led to anger.

~0~

London, 2007.

A dirty blonde woman, Sally Sparrow, jumped a fence leading to a private property, cautiously looking around for anyone who could catch her. She made her way into the house, kicking some boards down with few struggle. Once she entered, she found a torch and started looking around, occasionally snapping pictures of her surroundings. She noticed a certain wall where the paper had begun to peal and walked for it, pulling it back to find the word "Beware" written down. She tilted her head and pulled more, finding the phrase, "The Weeping Angel'. With another pull, she found 'Oh and duck! Really duck! "

"Huh," she set her camera down and with both hands pulled again, she found, "Sally Sparrow. Duck, now!"

She heard glass break from behind and immediately ducked as a large stone hit the wall where she was just a second ago. She stood up, mouth dropped at the sight, and turned to the window, using her torch to see who the hell had just done that.

There was only a angel statue.

Confused, she returned to the wall and removed the last strip of paper which read, "Love from the Doctor...and Minerva and Martha."

~0~

Early October, 1969.

"You're seriously not gonna add us to the message?" I frowned, watching the Doctor finish the last piece of the message he had written for Sally Sparrow. We were in the same mansion from 2007, only 1969...still.

"Oops, I forgot," the Doctor tilted his head at his message as he stood back.

"Give me that," I snatched the paint brush from him and moved up to the wall to add in my name and Martha's, "Rude."

"You're still angry?"

"You got us stuck in 1969 on purpose," Martha reminded, both of us still crossed, only Martha was slightly less than I. Of course most of my anger towards her and the Doctor stemmed from their little secret, "That doesn't just go away."

"I already explained my reasons!"

"Didn't care two weeks ago, don't care now," I stood up and handed him the paint brush.

"Let's just get out of here," Martha sighed, "We've got our jobs to attend to."

"Please don't remind me," I shook my head, "Out of all the jobs I've ever heard, this one is the worst. Everyone is demanding with their stupid clothes."

"Just have patience with them," Martha said.

"The only good thing is I've been able to make friends in that job that can help," I turned away from them. I could fake my way around my anger talk but my expressions were harder to control.

"I offered to get a job," the Doctor reminded, Martha and I immediately shaking our heads.

"NO!" We shouted, making him flinch.

"It was agreed," Martha began.

"We get jobs and you get us out of here," I finished for her.

It had been two weeks since the Doctor had gotten us to 1969. It hadn't been that hard to find us an apartment that first day, thankfully that landlord was sweet, well that and the fact he had a thing for Martha. She got us the first month free of rent! And thanks to the landlord, Michel, he had introduced me to a job at a department store...which sold clothes for children...very loud, very demanding, very fussy children. Martha on the other hand, had found a job at a flower shop. It was nicer, peaceful, and most importantly not stressful.

"I'm working on it," the Doctor replied, gesturing to the wall behind, "As you can see, it'll take some time."

"Let's just go, we can maybe stop by for an ice cream," Martha suggested, tensing at the glare I was giving the Doctor.

When she said she wanted to see just how angry I could be, she didn't actually mean it. The fact that it had been two weeks and I was still giving glares around was surprising to her. They were both surprised at my anger still lingering after so much time. But what could they expect after learning they were still hiding I deserved to know? Martha knew about Kaeya wiping my memories clean and she didn't utter a word to me. If she was my best friend, why didn't she say anything? She kept it a secret with the Doctor. Two months of my life are a complete blank and neither of them have had the audacity to tell me who was responsible for my memory loss. Neither of them told me it was Kaeya. She did this. After everything I had done for that woman, she took my memories.

The only question remained, why hadn't Martha and the Doctor told me anything?

~0~

Mid-October, 1969.

"Minerva?" Jerome, one of my co-workers, called, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I was standing behind the counter, supposed to be working out some numbers for this week's sales...and yet...I was thinking about the Doctor...and Kaeya...and Martha...and my memories.

"Minerva? How's the calculations?" The blonde man walked up to me, glancing down at the notepad which was half-empty, "Oh..."

"Sorry," I closed the notepad and set the pen down.

"Head in the clouds again?"

I nodded, "Perhaps..."

"You're always getting lost in your thoughts," he remarked, shaking his head in a playful disapproving manner.

"There's a lot to think about." That certainly didn't come close to everything that was going on.

"I can see, but mind my wondering," he set his elbows on the counter and rested his chin on his hands, "What's got a pretty girl so sad?"

"Sad?" I blinked, "Why would you think I'm sad?"

"It's in your eyes," he pointed, "Every time you get distracted, thinking...your eyes get really sad."

I sighed, "My eyes say a lot of things, apparently." Truthfully, I didn't want to think of my eyes, because it reminded me of the Doctor's words and to think of the Doctor reminded me of his little secret with Martha, which then reminded me of Kaeya and what she had unjustly did to me.

"Who hurt you?"

"My friends," I swallowed hard, looking down, "They kept something from me and I found out. I've been waiting for them to tell me about it, you know, give them the chance to do it...but they haven't said anything." I had no idea why I was telling him this with so much ease. But then I thought about Martha, my supposed best friend, and how she was always my confidant. Anything about the Doctor and Kaeya that conflicted me I told Martha about. But now that she was in on it, so...who was I to tell?

Jerome was nice. He was the first one that spoke to me on my first day on the job. I knew he had a crush on me, it was pretty clear after Martha pointed it out and all its signs, but he never made a move...he acted as a friend, a better one than the two I lived with.

"And they haven't told you?" he asked.

'No. I don't think they ever will."

"Don't get sad," he reached for my chin and lifted my gaze up, "Hey, I got an idea. How about you and I go out for some lunch today?"

"You and I?" Well so much for the 'never made a move' thing.

"Yeah, I don't think it's a secret I like you. And I think I've been a coward for enough time," he said and I had to smile at that, "I know you love coffee, perhaps I could buy you one?"

"No...I can't," I shook my head, a date was the last thing I needed right now, especially not with the person I actually liked.

"Oh c'mon, perhaps dinner then?"

"I don't know..."

"Tell you what, I'll give you all day to think about. I was going to visit Michel anyways, and since he lives upstairs of your place, I'll drop by to hear your final decision," he winked.

"But Jerome-"

"Think about it," he stood straight, his hazel eyes gazing down at me, "I promise I won't make you sad like your friends have."

I sighed as he walked away. I didn't want to go out, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings either. He had been so sweet to me and I didn't have the heart to flat-out turn him down. Plus...maybe I was considering his date offer. It was clear the Doctor would never set eyes on me and I couldn't wait on him forever...and an innocent date perhaps couldn't hurt me and my sadness.

So why was I still so hesitant to accept the date?

~0~

I was placing clean dishes on the counter to dry out, waiting on Martha to return with our dinner ingredients for tonight. My mind had been filled with the usual thoughts that troubled me, but now it held whether or not I would accept Jerome's offer to go out tonight. My mind screamed yes, but my heart said another thing. The only one I wanted to go out with was currently in his room trying to work on some stupid contraption that could help us leave 1969 and his name was...

"Minerva, where's the toaster?" the Doctor questioned, making me flinch me in the process where I nearly dropped the plate I held to the floor, "Oh, sorry," he walked over and took the dish from me.

"What do you need a toaster for?" I snatched the dish away from him.

A little confused with that snatch, he eyed me for second, "Just...something I need. Are you okay?"

"You tell me," I muttered, placing the dish on the counter along with the rest.

"Um, I don't know, that's why I'm asking."

"As if you don't know," I scoffed, grabbing a towel to wipe the water that had spilled from several dishes.

"I don't, what's going on?" he frowned, reaching for my hand to stop me from moving.

"Don't!" I jerked my hand away from him, "I'm angry with you! Don't you see!?"

"Still? Minerva, give it a rest! It's been nearly a month since we arrived-"

"Exactly!" I cut him off with a small shout, "We've been here one month and you haven't said anything. How dare you!"

"Haven't said what?"

"And not to mention the past months we've spent traveling after 1913 so that's about three freaking months," I threw the towel to the sink and crossed my arms, "That's three months that you haven't said anything to me."

"Okay, I'm confused-"

"And I'm not? Doctor, there are two months of my life that I don't know about yet you do," he was now completely silent, knowing exactly what I was talking about, "You and Martha know how I lost my memories and neither of you have told me anything!"

"It didn't matter..." he mumbled so low I barely heard.

"Apparently it did because Kaeya took all those memories away from me!"

He looked up, completely stunned that I knew about it, "You...you...know?"

"I heard you and Martha talking about it! And just so you know, yes, I am angry. I am very angry with you and Martha."

"We were only trying to avoid you getting upset while y-you were w-weak," he tried to explain, yet stuttering in his final words.

"No, you were trying to hide your girlfriend's dirty work! She stole my memories! You didn't tell me she did nor tell me what happened in those two months."

"I was trying to keep you away from a pain-"

"No you were trying to hide Kaeya's work, keep her image clean. Well let me tell you something," I stepped up, the anger threatening to turn into hot tears in my eyes, "You and Martha don't get to decide what I know. I demand that you tell me what happened that made Kaeya steal my memories. Did I anger her? Did I anger you? Martha?"

"No," he shook his head, "You didn't."

"Then what did I do!?"

"It doesn't matter-"

"Yes it does! For once this does! It matters to me this time and you are purposefully keeping it away from me. How dare you? We promised to tell each other everything and you're breaking it!"

At that moment, we heard the front door opening, "I got the pasta, Minerva!" Martha called, the door closing behind her. She walked in and set the bags on the table, glancing at us for only a second, "What's wrong?"

"Kaeya stole my memories, that's what's wrong," I answered, seeing her eyes widen.

"You...remember?" she whispered, walking up beside the Doctor.

"You're supposed to be my best friend and you kept that away from me? What's wrong with both of you!? I trust both of you to be honest with me and this is what I get instead?"

"You don't understand," Martha sighed.

"You're right, which is why I told the Doctor that I demand to know what Kaeya stole from me." But all I got was silence, the two simply exchanging glances. "WELL?" You might as well hear the crickets because nothing was being said.

"Unbelievable, neither of you will say anything. I need to get out of here," I moved around them.

"No, wait," the Doctor grabbed my arm.

"Are you gonna explain?" I inquired, looking from him to Martha. Nothing. "I'm getting out of here," I jerked my arm away from the Martian.

"Where are you going to go?" Martha asked, both of them following me into the living room.

"...on a date!" I exclaimed the first words that popped into my head, the offer Jerome made sounding like paradise because it got me out of the house for hours.

"A date?" Both of them repeated, surprised.

"Yeah, I got asked out on a date and I'm gonna go," I informed them. It wasn't exactly what I'd been thinking of doing but it was the first thing that came out of my mouth so now I was going to do it "I don't want to be anywhere near either of you! And since I can't exactly go to my grandmother's I guess some hours will have to do."

"You can't do that," the Doctor frowned.

"Oh yes I can!"

"No," he stepped up, having the audacity to be angry about it.

And since it got a kick out of him, I was most certainly going out tonight, "I'm going on a date, getting away from you and Martha."

"Who are you going with!?"

"A co-worker, Jerome."

"HIM?"

"Yes!"

"Minerva, you can't go with him."

"And why the hell not?"

"Because...because he's..." it seemed like he was biting his tongue with great struggle, "...he's not..."

"I can do whatever I want. And right now, you two are the last people I want to see," I turned for the hallway and walked for my room, biting my own tongue to keep my tears from escaping.

Both of them looked so hurt, but neither of them compared to me. I felt so betrayed...like they had chosen Kaeya over me. How could they do that to me? Even the Doctor. Sure, he loved her but did that mean he'd choose her even though she'd done something bad? Is that what love was?

~0~

I was picking up my hair into a ponytail when there was a knock on the door. I actually commend them for not trying sooner. Maybe they were that guilty.

"Minerva? Can I please come in?" Martha asked politely.

I wore a knee-length red, black and white plaid dress with thin straps. It was a tad shorter than what I was used to but apparently it was a common type of dress for night outings in this era. Still, I wore a thin, long-sleeve white turtleneck jumper underneath. I also wore knee-length socks and red mary-jane shoes. I thought I looked ridiculous, honestly. This was one odd era...

"This is your room too, Martha," I reminded coldly, maintaining my gaze on the mirror in front of me when she came inside.

She and I shared the room and left the Doctor with the other one. It was a nice room with a rather comfy bed and vanity desk. There was a clothing wardrobe which we both shared, having some clothes we bought with our job money. It was nice...too bad my roommate was a secret-keeping-betraying best friend.

"You look nice," she commented quietly.

"Mhm."

"I'm sorry," she walked up, standing behind me, looking at the mirror since I wouldn't turn to her.

"You know, I would kinda expect this from the Doctor seeing as he freaking loves Kaeya, but you? You say all these things about Kaeya and yet you keep something like this from me?"

"It's more complicated, that's all..."

"Complicated how?" I turned to her, my hair all picked up now.

"It's not my story to tell," she whispered.

"What the hell does that even mean!?" I shouted. She flinched and stepped back.

"Just please don't go out, stay with us."

"And then what? Neither of you are gonna tell me!"

"Maybe the Doctor will, but he's really upset right now and-"

"Oh and I'm picking up daisies because I'm so freaking happy!"

"Minerva he's jealous," she smiled brightly as if it was the best thing in the world.

"No he's not, he's angry because I don't want to listen to him."

"Don't let your anger blind you. He's raging out there," she pointed back, "Because he's jealous, Minerva. He's bloody jealous!"

"I don't have time for this," I walked past her, "This time your hopeful words aren't gonna work on me. I have a date to go to which will hopefully help me forget yours and the Doctor's betrayal."

"I'm sorry..."

I shook my head, shutting my eyes to keep away the water, and walked out.

~0~

Poor Billy Shipton landed with a thud against a wall, in 1969, after just being in a parking lot with a couple Angel statues.

"Welcome," Martha greeted with a soft smile, the man's head quickly snapping to see her and the Doctor a couple feet behind, "It's okay, it's best if you stay down," Martha put a hand on his shoulder, glancing back at the Doctor for him to speak.

"Where am I?" Billy looked around, seeing it was now dark and not raining as it had been only a second ago.

Martha awaited for the Doctor to speak, only for him to turn his head from them, she sighed and looked at Billy with her soft smile, "It's the year 1969," she began her explanation, though knowing only the Doctor could explain it well. But seeing he was still peeved over Minerva she knew better than to wait for him to talk.

"1969?" Billy blinked.

"It's not as bad as it goes. My best friend Minerva said this is the year of the moon landing, she's clever like that. She remembers things so well."

"Let's not talk about her right now, shall we?" the Doctor said sourly, now approaching the pair with a device that was currently clicking and beeping.

Martha rolled her eyes, knowing Minerva was all he wanted to talk about. The man had been fuming after Minerva had left, saying who the hell this 'Jerome' man was and where did he come from and why Minerva was with him and not them. She tried reminding him that Minerva was angry and hurt they kept what Kaeya had done a secret. She even went as far as saying that he had some fault for not organizing his feelings for Minerva and Kaeya. Because if he wasn't so confused he would've told Minerva straight away about their love adventure in 1913 and would've told her how she'd made his human version fall in love with her in less than three days. Minerva would've been thrilled to know she'd gotten some of his feelings out because it would only mean that the original version, the Doctor himself, had already fallen for her as well.

But the man was just too conflicted...apparently.

Martha secretly thought the Doctor was just afraid to admit he'd already chosen her best friend faster than he'd even realized.

"How did I get here?" Billy asked, watching how the Doctor remained silent yet again, looking furious for some reason.

"The same way we did," the Doctor replied, " The touch of an angel. Same one, probably, since you ended up in the same year. I wouldn't get up though," he warned as Billy started up again, "Time travel without a capsule, nasty. Catch your breath, don't go swimming for half an hour."

"I don't...I can't..."

"Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels. The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no fuss, they just zap you into the past and let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye. You die in the past, and in the present they consume the energy of all the days you might have had, all your stolen moments. They're creatures of the abstract. They live off potential energy."

"You're talking at light speed again," Martha remarked, smiling with joy.

"What in God's name are you talking about?" Billy blinked, looking both he and Martha as the craziest people he's met.

"We were tracking you down," the Doctor explained, "Though I thought Minerva would be around to help..."

Martha smirked, "She could've been with us if you would've told her about Kaeya straight away. Honestly, your 'confusion' is gonna drive Minerva away from you."

"I don't need your warnings," he rolled his eyes, he had enough problems to face with and the last thing he needed was a set of reminders.

"Can you believe it?" Martha glanced at Billy who was just completely lost, "You had a crush on Sally Sparrow, right? That's what the file said. Would you let a pretty girl like that get away from you?'

"No," he replied instantly, only understanding that part out of everything.

"Exactly. And it's already starting with the fact Minerva's on a date," Martha said, smirking again, "And you know, you say you're confused, yet the fact you're practically fuming and bursting with jealousy tells me you may not be so confused anymore."

"Is anyone going to explain to me where I am?" Billy looked around, his head hurting from all the confusion.

The Doctor looked at Martha for a good minute, trying to come up with something to say to her, could it really be true? He shook his head, he had to get her and Minerva out of 1969 before he decided on anything. Their safety was first. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Martha or Minerva...Minerva...

Again, he shook his head and practically forced himself to focus on Billy and the task that had been appropriated to him, "Normally, I'd offer you a lift home, but somebody nicked my motor. So I need you to take a message to Sally Sparrow. And I'm sorry Billy, I am very, very sorry. It's gonna take you a while."

~0~

Minerva's POV.

I sat on the couch, sniffling and sniffling away. My "date" had finished up early, seeing as I just could not be with someone I simply didn't like. Jerome deserved better than that. He was so sweet throughout the whole time, wanting to know what was wrong yet not pushing me to speak. But as much as I wanted to have fun, I couldn't...not when the two people about in my life and I were angry with each other. I had returned home early, wanting to try again and talk, but found the apartment completely empty. They'd gone somewhere without me. So I started to think about everything, as usual, and started crying...

It was getting to be too much...

But then I heard the door opening, and Martha's voice emerging with the Doctor's.

"Minerva, you're back," she gasped lightly, she and the Doctor rounding around the couch.

I quickly wiped my tears and sat up straight, "Y-yeah, I came back early."

"Did you have fun?" she tried to act as if she had been on board for the date from the beginning. Could she not see some of the tears that lingered on my face?

"Yeah, ecstatically fun..."

The Doctor sighed, setting that contraption of his on the table and moving to sit beside me, "Martha, can you leave us for a moment?"

"Are you sure? What are you gonna do?" She seemed a bit surprised for some reason.

"Something," he eyed her, the two sharing a silent moment that only left me confused.

"Okay, I'll be in our room..." she looked at me, "...and I'm sorry, Minerva. Really," she turned and walked away.

"If you're not gonna tell me anything then go away," I scooted away from the Martian.

"Come here," he tried pulling me back.

"No," I shook my head, "You do that and somehow make me all happy again. Not this time. And I know I say that every time I'm crossed with you but this time I mean it. You can't smooth-talk yourself out of this. I demand to know what happened that made Kaeya want to steal my memories."

"I'm gonna tell you what happened."

I glanced at him, carefully looking for any detail in his face that would show he was lying...but I found none, "Really?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

Quietly, I scooted back, putting my hands together on my lap and looking down. I didn't want to blush, I didn't want to fall for his little soft looks, I didn't want him to win me over with some stupid cute manners. No. Not this time. I wanted to know what happened. "You can start now," I mumbled.

"First of all, I don't want you to be angry with Martha. If there's anyone you should be angry with, it's me and only me. I asked her not to say anything. She was only being a friend to me."

"What happened?" I whispered, tired of asking a question that I shouldn't even have to ask about. It should be a given that I should know about it.

"You met someone...and...he fell in love with you."

My head snapped up, eyes wide with shock, "What?"

"You met someone, but you made it clear that you just wanted to be friends...but you were just that amazing that he couldn't help it and he fell in love with you."

"Who...who was it?" I was more than shocked to hear such a story, but even when I looked at the Doctor, I couldn't see any sign that he was lying. Someone...had actually fallen in love with me? Even thinking about it sounded all wrong.

"Um, he was a teacher of the school we hid in. Nice man, good, um, his name was Jack."

"Oh..." I gotta say I was a bit disappointed, yet I didn't know for what exactly, "...did, did I hurt him? Is that what I did? I hurt an innocent man!?"

"No! No! You didn't hurt anyone," he quickly assured, seeing me tense up at the possibility, "He was in danger that last night we were there..." he started smiling, "...but you took care of him."

"And you? Did I take care of you too? Or did I abandon you and Martha?"

"You took care of all of us, Minerva, don't worry."

I nodded, believing it, "So...why did Kaeya steal my memory? Why can't I remember any of that stuff?"

"In the end," his gaze fell for a second, "Words were said, things were done, hearts were broken."

"Oh my god I broke his heart," I put my hand over my chest, feeling horrible. I knew what that felt like, I practically lived with it...and for me to go and do that to some poor man... "I am despicable," I shook my head.

"Don't say that," he said softly, actually looking like I had done nothing wrong and was just a little white dove.

"Doctor, I broke someone's heart, okay? I knew that I would be leaving and yet I let that poor man develop these feelings for me. Is that why Kaeya took my memories? Because I was guilty?"

"She took your memories so that you wouldn't be in pain. She wanted to help you avoid that."

"So she took...pity on me?" I frowned, not sounding so sure that was correct.

"No, not pity..."

"Well, whatever it was, she had no right to do that," I shook my head, my anger diminishing with him and Martha. I wasn't angry with Kaeya either, simply upset she'd taken that liberty that didn't belong to her, "I have a right to remember all these things, no matter how hard it was."

"I know and I'm sorry for that," the Doctor sighed.

"Is there any way to remember those two months?"

"I don't think there is..."

"Oh..." I looked at my hands again, not sure if I should feel guilt for something I couldn't even remember. The fact stood that I had broken someone's heart and I couldn't even remember them.

"But, he's fine, Minerva...he's okay," the Doctor tried to ease my guilt, "He was fine."

"Really?"

He nodded, "Yes. He understood in the end and he was just fine. Now c'mon, no more crying and no more angry Minerva, I don't like her very much."

I smiled dimly, "Me neither..."

"So we're okay now? No more anger?"

"We're good. I just really hope I'll remember one day. I owe it to Jack to remember him." I would've asked to return and find the man but I couldn't dare look him in the face and tell him I couldn't remember him. I couldn't do that to him.

"So you don't have to go on anymore dates to get away from us."

I raised an eyebrow, recalling Martha's words before I left, "Did my date bother you?"

"What!? No!"

"Cause you seem fairly upset..."

"Of course I was upset, you were angry with me. I don't like that."

"Me neither," I admitted shyly. It felt all wrong, but he wouldn't know that. The ego was grow.

"You know what, to make this a little better, why don't we go out for some pastries?"

"Right now?"

"Yeah, we'll get Martha and go have some desserts together."

"And skip a proper dinner?" I pretended to gasp.

He shrugged, "I'm bad like that."

I laughed, "Alright Oncoming Storm, calm down. You'll get a massive toothache if you keep that up," I wagged a finger, about to get up when I noticed his contraption again, "Okay, what the hell is that?" I pointed, plopping back down.

"Hm?"

"That," I pointed at it again.

"Oh!" he reached for it, "It's my timey-wimey detector. It goes ding when there's stuff!" he held it between us, twisting it around for me to see.

"Timey wimey?" I raised an eyebrow, the Doctor nodding like a child, "Ding when there's stuff?" he nodded again, flashy grin on his face, "They should really reconsider the whole 'Oncoming Storm' name," I shook my head, not helping the chuckle I let escape.

"Oi, it's very effective."

"Mhm," I took the device into my hands, "So what are the side effects?"

"Why do you suppose there are some?" He tried playing offended.

"Because you're you. So what is it?"

His face morphed into a pout fairly fast, "It can boil an egg at 30 paces..." he mumbled.

"Whether you want it or not?"

"Yes...hens are not pretty when they blow."

"You're an idiot," I started laughing, feeling him snatch his contraption away.

"Can't be that big of an idiot if it was able to track down Billy Shipton."

"He's here now?" I stopped laughing, knowing we were one step to getting out of here.

"Yeah, and he's got the message and is gonna help us record those Easter Eggs."

"That's great," I stood up, "And you know what? We should go out on a pastry spree to celebrate. I'll get Martha and maybe change a bit," I tugged on the turtleneck I wore, "This isn't very comfortable."

He set the contraption beside him and stood up, "I imagine. I'll wait here, then."

I looked at him for a moment before hugging him, "Thank you."

"What's this for?" he sounded surprised yet still hugged back.

"For telling me what happened, thank you."

"Don't..."

"No, really, thank you. Even if it's bad, I want to know what happened."

"...I'm sorry," he tightened our hug.

"For what?" I pulled away.

"Just...sorry," he looked very sincere that I just nodded and accepted it.

"I'm gonna go get Martha and then we can go, alright?"

"Okay."

I smiled again and turned away, hurrying off for Martha. I burst inside, Martha immediately getting off the bed and hurrying up to me, "Minerva, I'm really sorry," she began, "The Doctor told me not to say anything because he was con-"

"Martha, it's okay," I took her for a surprise hug.

"It...it is?"

"Yeah, I get it now. Completely," I pulled away.

"Really?" she seemed confused yet shocked.

"Yeah. Kaeya just wanted to rid me of my guilt, even if she had no right to do so but I guess it was with a good intention. But the Doctor explained everything. He told me of Jack, the man that fell in love with me."

And suddenly her shock and confusion turned into what one could say was irritation, "Jack?"

"Yeah. That poor teacher I somehow managed to make him love me. I feel terrible for it."

"'Jack' fell in love with you..." she nodded, looking to the side inn thought.

"Yeah, and the Doctor told me he asked you not to say anything. But truthfully, I wasn't actually angry, I was hurt. I thought you chose Kaeya over me..."

"WHAT? Minerva, you know I don't have very good feelings towards the woman," she reminded me, taking my hands, "You're my best friend."

"I know and I feel awful about what I said earlier...so sorry," I hugged her again.

She sighed, "It's alright. I'm sorry too."

"So the Doctor suggested we go get some pastries for dinner," I pulled away and headed for the clothing wardrobe.

"Really?" and there came her usual, teasing tone that I had truthfully missed.

"Yeah, so get your jacket and let's go. I just want a sweater or something," I pulled out a white cardigan, "I hate turtlenecks."

"So this is like a date," she smirked.

"No, because it's us three," I pointed at her.

"Now that you're not angry with us, you should really know how jealous the Doctor was," she made her way over, inspecting the white cardigan I had taken out, "Fuming, I tell you. If you and Jerome hadn't left so quick, he would've been punched in the face."

"Oh come now, Martha, let's not exaggerate," I tried hiding my smile. Now that my head was clear, it was trying to picture the Doctor in his 'fuming' state. I shouldn't be...but I was...

"You know it's true," Martha wagged a finger.

"We were angry with each other, and..."

"And nothing, he was jealous and that's that. And we can work with jealousy."

"What are you thinking of?" I frowned, slightly afraid of her antics with all this jealousy talk.

"Your birthday."

"Martha, that's still a couple weeks away."

"Try two weeks," she tapped my head, "How do you forget that?" But don't you worry, I am gonna find something completely extravagant for you to wear, and it'll make his mouth drop to the ground, possibly the center of the earth."

"Oh Martha," I blushed and moved around her, going for the bathroom we had in the room, "One simple dress won't change anything."

"Hm, you'd be surprised. That's how mum and dad met, actually, don't tell them I told you that," she quickly shook her head, "But I'm serious."

"Tell you what, I'll leave that all up to you because I know there is no power on earth that would get you to reconsider."

"Leave it to your best friend," she shrugged, smiling proudly.

~ 0 ~

I now wore a closed, buttoned up, white cardigan with long sleeves. It was much better than the stupid turtle-neck I had on earlier. Never would I wear those again. Martha and I returned to the living room where the Doctor promptly awaited for us.

"I'm telling you both this right now, I want chocolate," Martha announced, "I don't care what it is, cupcakes, cake, brownies, just make it chocolate."

"Yes ma'am," I saluted to her.

"Shall we go, then?" the Doctor gestured to the door.

"Yes," we both answered him with grins.

We made our way down to the streets which were crowded with people. Martha moved beside me, cautiously watching for the first bakery we found that was open and not too crowded.

"Oh, look," the Doctor grabbed my hand and pulled me towards a shop, "They have kittens," he pointed happily.

"Doctor, I'm allergic to kittens," I reminded, although the ones in the basket were actually really adorable. It was a pet shelter, apparently, and the kittens were set up near the display glass.

"I'm not taking you inside," he shrugged, "Just showing you."

"They're adorable," Martha remarked, ignoring us for a second, "Tish had one...then she let it get free," she frowned, "She had one job. Close the door."

I chuckled, "Oh Martha."

"It was adorable! She was named Sparkles."

"Sparkles?" the Doctor and I repeated, both giving her looks.

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?" She put her hand on her hip, her expression warning us to be very careful with how we answered.

"No!" We quickly shook our heads.

"Mm, let's just go," she nodded for us to continue, which we quickly did to avoid her sharp look. A moment later, she moved beside me again, whispering some words to me, "Good way of not getting lost," she smirked, eyeing us for some reason.

The Doctor and I were still holding hands.

Martha chuckled when she no doubt saw my face. I hadn't even noticed when that happened.

"Hold down the bluuuush," Martha sing-sang quietly...but I still elbowed her on the side.

Then I glanced at the Martian who was busy looking at the passing shops. I smiled softly and looked straight ahead, for once allowing my blush to continue. This was this was just such a nice moment that I wish would never have to end.

~0~

Late October.

"I'm back!" I called as soon as I entered the apartment, the Doctor and Martha sitting on the couch doing their respectful activities.

"Oh, what you got there?" Martha eyed the big, red squared present I held in my arms.

"Early birthday present from Jerome," I informed as I walked over, setting it on the table, "I wanna open it now!"

"He gave you a present?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, not sounding too fond of it.

"Mhm, he said he and his family we're going out on some one-month trip so he gave me my present in advance," I clapped my hands together, "Can I please open it now?"

Martha chuckled, "It's your birthday present. You can open it whenever you want."

"Oh that's right." And so I started ripping off the wrapping paper, until I could see a box underneath. I gasped at the sight of my new game, especially when I realized just what game it was. "Oh my god!"

"What is it?" Both friends asked. Of course they wouldn't know about it.

"Oh my god..." I passed a hand down the box, "...I haven't seen this in years. It's Wahoo." I looked up with a grin.

"Yahoo?" Martha raised an eyebrow, before sneezing.

"No, Wahoo," I corrected, holding up the game board box for them to see it better. "And bless you by the way. It's this game my grandfather and I used to play when I was a kid. It's so much fun. Oh I can't believe he remembered..."

"You told him about the game?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah, we were talking and somehow it just came up," I sighed contently, "I love it. Absolutely love it."

"Well how about we play a game, then?" Martha suggested, chuckling when I immediately nodded. "But you'll have to explain to me how to play because I've never seen one of those in my life."

"No problem! Doctor, you wanna join?"

"No," he shook his head, a bit fast too. My excitement faded away as he stood up quickly too. It was almost like he couldn't wait to get out of here.

"Why not?"

"Um..." he stared down at the game board, "...no thank you."

But more than that, he just seemed upset. "Please?" I tried again, hoping that my sweet smile might change his mind. Martha did say - and even the Doctor occasionally -that I could get him to agree to anything whenever I used that smile. "I really wanna show you how to play. Pleeeeease?"

He met my gaze for the longest of minutes. My sweet smile remained as strong as I could make it until finally...

"Fine," he sighed.

I beamed. Before he could change his mind, I reached over for his hand then grabbed the game board to head over to the kitchen. Martha quickly followed behind. I set the game up on the table and carefully placed each marble on their designated row.

"There," I let the dices drop over the board. "Alright, first I'm going to get us some drinks because this can last a while. Be back!" I shot them a wink and hurried out of my chair.

Martha showed up a few seconds later. She had a face that made me worry for my ears because she definitely had something to say. "You know why he's upset, right?" She whispered, coughing slightly.

"No," I shrugged. I poured some orange juice into the three glasses on the counter (because none of us were interested in drinking). "And do you want some aspirin? That's not sounding too well."

"It's just a lousy cold going around," Martha waved me off, coughing a little harder, "But you're too oblivious for your own good, Minerva." She patted my arm, "He's upset that Jerome gave you a present you love."

"So? I'm sure you would've given me a present I would've 'loved'."

"Yeah, with the difference being I'm not after you and Jerome is. He has a crush on you and clearly gave you the game as a way to sneak into your heart," she crossed her arms, "Something the Doctor over there is very much disliking."

"If only he knew he already snuck into my heart," I sighed, sadly smiling. It was the saddest irony of all that he would probably never see.

Jerome might have given me a present that I loved, but I loved more the fact that I got to share it with someone I really cared for. One special Martian who could not understand the concept of the game.

~0~

"Minerva? Minerva!?" Someone shook me gently before coughing quite loudly.

"Mm, what?" I scooted away from my coughing roommate.

"Happy Birthday!"

I opened my eyes, suddenly remembering it was indeed the 31st of October. Halloween...and my birthday. I sat up, seeing Martha grinning widely but with her eyes a red and watery from her cold she acquired a couple days ago.

"Happy birthday!" She threw her arms around me, "Happy birthday, oblivious, clever girl!"

I patted her back and chuckled, "Was this an insult or a compliment?"

She pulled back and grinned, "A compliment of course!"

I shook my head and got out of bed, heading for the wardrobe, "Well thank you."

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" She hopped off the bed and quickly ran over, smacking my hand off the handle piece. "No!"

I rubbed my hand, a small frown on my face, "What?"

"I need you to shower so I can curl your hair," She grabbed the sleeve of my nightie and pulled me for the bathroom.

"You realize we don't have a curler right?"

"I've got pins to die for!" She opened the door and pushed me inside then returned to the drawers. She pulled out a new white nightie with a white-silver robe.

"I'm gonna wear pajamas all day on my birthday?" I raised an eyebrow, my hands out for the new pair of clothes.

"Just until it's time to go out tonight. I thought we could spend the day here," she walked over, coughing into her arm.

"You know we don't have to even go out tonight," I watched her sadly, "You're sick and-"

"I'll be fine," she waved me off and handed me the clothes, "Now go shower."

I sighed and did as told, going to shower as my best friend ordered.

~0~

"All set," Martha stepped back, allowing me to finally stand up, "I should get a medal because I calculated the right amount of bobby-pins needed to hold up all that long hair of yours."

Martha had pinned up all my hair with about three packs of bobby-pins. There were only a few strands that fell to the sides of my face, but overall she did do a good job considering the amount and length of my hair.

I closed my robe and headed for the door, my stomach grumbling since an hour ago, "Can we please eat now?"

She chuckled, following behind, "Alright, alright, what do you want?" She sneezed.

"Bless you."

"Thank you."

"I think I'll make you something," I shook my head, "Maybe chicken soup."

"No, no, you can't cook on your birthday."

"What? Do my hands magically stop working because it's my birthday?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Sit," I plopped her down on a chair of the kitchen table, "How about some nice french toast?"

We heard the door opening as I walked to the cupboards, a small smile escaping my lips as I thought of how the Martian would greet me. So I felt it odd that silence fell over, save for a pair of footsteps...until a pair of hands covered my eyes.

"Guess who?"

I smiled bigger, "Um...a ridiculous, banana-loving alien?"

"No..."

I could just imagine his pout behind me, "A Martian?"

"You just know how to ruin this, don't you?" the Doctor lowered his hands and spun me around, allowing me to see his big grin, "Hello."

"Hi," I replied, a stupid blush already working on my face.

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" He looked out the window above the sink.

"Yeah, looks sunny."

"Hm, that's nice..." he stuffed his hands in his pockets, acting oh-so-casual as he moved around me.

That's when I saw a bag on the table that Martha was eyeing silently. Poor thing was so sick she didn't even have enough focus to make her usual pep talks about the Doctor and I.

"What's this?" I walked for the table, first of all placing a hand on Martha's forehead, "No fever yet. Still in business" She smiled, "But this bag smells pretty nice..." I leaned on the table, peering over the bag and getting a whiff of strawberries, "Mmm."

"Well I thought I could make some nice breakfast..." the Doctor began, but flinched when Martha and I yelled out a 'NO'.

"Sorry, but...we don't want an accident," I turned to him, offering him a kind smile. He could save the world but he failed miserably at cooking.

"We're just teaching you how to use a blender right now," Martha added.

"Let's not argue kids," I gestured them to calm down.

"Not today," the Doctor agreed, pulling another grin, "Because..." His grin turned into a playful smile.

I couldn'thelp the huge grin that broke across my face upon his look. "...it's my birthday?" Alright, maybe I liked the extra attention I was about to get today. Dud that sound selfish?

The Doctor nodded and rushed up to hug me. I laughed when his arms winded around my waist for a spinning hug. "Happy birthday!" He exclaimed.

"Thank you!" I said when he set me down. We turned back for the table and the first thing I saw was Martha smirking at us. Of course when her coughing fits returned, she didn't have the opportunity to comment.

"So I brought breakfast," the Doctor gestured to the bag on the table.

"What is it?" Martha nearly demanded, seeming as though she had been trying to figure that out this whole time.

"I believe they were Strawberry crepes with whip cream."

Martha nearly ripped the bag open.

"Martha!" I laughed, the woman bashfully looking at us while holding the plastic box.

"Sorry, birthday girl goes first," she held the box to us.

"No, birthday girl's sick best friend goes first," I took the box from her and placed it on the table in front of her, "Do you want some coffee?"

"No, tea," she corrected.

"Right, yes," I opened the box for her, "Doctor, what about you?" I glanced back and found him staring at us with a soft smile. "Are you gonna want some?" Still silence. "Doctor!"

He blinked and shook his head, "Yes! What's going on?"

"You had that look again," I walked up to him.

"What look?" He still seemed to be shaken up for some reason.

"That look I told you about," I smiled, moving around him, "I was just asking if you wanted some coffee or tea for breakfast."

"Oh, um...surprise me," he joined me as I took out milk from the fridge, followed by maple syrup, "What are you doing?"

"I like to put maple syrup in my coffee," I shrugged.

"Isn't that like a supplement for caramel?" Martha called, also confused.

"Maybe, I don't know. Point is, I like maple syrup in my coffee, not caramel."

"You're strange," the Doctor remarked, making me scoff.

"Says the 903 year old alien who lives in a box," I smirked.

"You live in that box as well."

I rolled my eyes and started on my work, "Go bring Martha a fork so she can eat."

"I don't need to be babied, guys," Martha sighed when the Doctor brought her the fork. "Thanks," she took it from him. "I've got a cold but I don't feel so bad."

"Yet," I said.

"Hey, I was able to pin up all that hair of yours without taking a break so I don't think I'm that sick. But perhaps a hair cut would be nice enough to make it easier."

"Oh no!" I shook my head, shooting her a sharp look, "My hair shall always stay long. My mother always tried making me cut it and I never did except for the tips. I wouldn't be me without my long hair."

"Yeah but all I'm saying is maybe a tad shorter?" she tried again.

"Noooo. I'd have to be completely mad to cut my hair. Either that or I'd have to be brainwashed."

She just laughed.

"So if I'm ever sick or just not me, I trust both of you to stop such a monstrosity," I pointed at both of them, the pair simply nodding, "Thank you."

A couple minutes later, I returned with two teas and a coffee. Martha coughed again, sounding like she was actually in pain.

"Martha, are you sure you don't want to go lay in bed?" I asked, standing beside her with my hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she waved me off, "Just-" And then she sneezed.

"-sick," I finished for her, shaking my head, "Doctor, don't you have something to make her feel better?"

"Just the usual things," he shrugged, "Recommendations to stay in bed and eat some soup. If I had the TARDIS..."

"I don't want to eat soup. I want my two friends to sit with me and eat breakfast to celebrate my best friend's birthday," Martha motioned for us to take our seats, "Now."

We sighed and took our seats, the Doctor reaching for his tea while I took out the rest of the food and set it for us.

I grabbed the maple syrup bottle and poured some into my mug. I almost rolled my eyes when I saw them both giving me weird looks,."What?" I set the bottle on the table.

"That can't be good," the Doctor shook his head.

"Isn't it too sweet?" Martha sipped her tea.

"No, it's just fine," I opened up my box of crepes, but both of them continued giving me the same look. I sighed, "Here, one of you try it," I pushed my mug to the center of the table.

"No thank you," Martha dug into her breakfast, "I'll get you sick."

"Doctor?" I pushed my mug to him, my sweet smile ready to go.

Martha smirked as the Martian reached for my mug. I dug my fork into my own meal, watching him slowly drink my coffee.

"This, um..." he started making faces, distasteful ones. I rolled my eyes, crossing my legs and grabbing a forkful of my food, "...it's, uh...not so goo-" I shoved my fork into his mouth as soon as his head turned to me.

Martha burst out laughing.

The Doctor made more faces as he struggled to chew the massive amount of food in his mouth, poor thing glancing at me with a pout. I smirked, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to say something to me. Of course, he didn't.

It was moments like these that made my heart nearly burst of happiness, my birthday just happening to be a small perk.

~0~

"Voila-" Poor Martha coughed and coughed and coughed, barely able to get the last bobby pin out of my hair.

"Martha," I turned to her, walking her for the bed, "I'm serious, we don't need to go out. But what we do need to do is get you in bed so you can get some rest."

"No," she shook her head, stopping us midway, "It's okay, I'll sleep after we come back tonight. But...you look fantastic," she clapped her hands together.

"Thank you," I pushed a strand of my now curly hair behind my ear, "But you need to get some rest."

"After," she waved me off and turned us back for the vanity desk, running her hands through my hair to elongate the curls, "I told you the pins would do it."

"You are remarkable," I nodded, "I've never curled my hair before. Never had the need..."

"Ah, but this time you have a man to stun," she started chuckling, "And believe me, you definitely will."

"I dress for myself, thank you very much," I turned to her, "Impressing someone comes after your own concept of yourself."

"Nicely said."

"But in all honesty, thank you for your gift," I turned for the mirror, gazing upon my new dress, "It's so pretty!"

"Thought you might like it," she crossed her arms, "It just spoke 'Minerva'."

I wore a baby pink dress that reached above my knees which was once again shorter than what I was used to. It was sleeveless with a diagonally draped bodice and a deep v-neckline on the back. There was a more decent one in the front. It had a wide silver band under the bust with shiny silver thread accents. The skirt was flowy and lined, creating a more princess style. I wore open-toed silver heels with the the buckle at the ankle; they were actually very comfortable. My hair was left down, its length slightly shortened with it being curled, and only a silver clip holding a section back on the left side of my head.

I absolutely adored it! My best friend was amazing and no one could tell me otherwise.

"Thank you so much!" I spun around to give Martha the biggest hug possible.

She chuckled, breaking into a cough in the end sadly, "You're...welcome."

I pulled away, "And be sure to wear a jacket. In fact," I walked over to pull one out, not about to let her go out into the night without a jacket.

"Yes, mum," she saluted.

"That's mOm," I teased.

"Muuuum," she walked over, taking the red jacket from me.

"Mooooom."

"What are you gonna do when your kids call you mum?" She raised an eyebrow, a playful teasing smile spreading on her face, only making my stomach churn with the guess of what she would be saying next. "I mean, unless the Doctor suddenly turns American, your mini-yous are so gonna be English."

"Martha!" I pushed her away, blushing madly at the thought of the Martian and I having...kids. That was both uncomfortable and freaky...not to mention utterly impossible.

"What?" Martha laughed, "It could happen," she shrugged, "Though it better not be anytime soon."

"Martha Elizabeth Jones!"

"Elizabeth isn't my middle name..." she blinked.

"I don't know what it is so I just put one to emphasize how discontent I am with your words!"

"Maybe you should name your daughter Elizabeth!" She gasped, seeing how much of a kick she was getting out of me.

I rolled my eyes and walked past her, taking the keys off the desk and heading for the door, "Knock it off, Martha Jones."

"What? No Elizabeth? Is that reserved for your little brunette? Because she would so be brunette."

"MARTHA!"

"And how about the boy, eh? What would you name him? Or...how does a Time Lord name their kids?" She was actually thinking of all that stuff, truly. "How would you name them? Give them an Earth name and then...what, a title?"

"We are not discussing this!" I snapped, abruptly turning to her. She bumped into me as a result. "It's impossible, okay? It can never happen," I mumbled and walked for the living room. The Doctor was coming out of the kitchen just then.

"But seriously!" Martha insisted. She was genuinely curious, I knew, but that was the last thing I wanted to be talking about in front of the Doctor.

"Martha!" I shouted, dropping the keys to the floor in the process.

"Oh come now, Martha, you're not allowed to fight with the birthday girl," the Doctor came over and bent down for the keys. I stuck my tongue out at Martha in victory. She merely rolled her eyes at me. "She needs to be hap..."

He just...stopped.

"Something wrong?" Martha moved beside me with the usual smirk crossing her face.

When Zian trailed me over, the only thing I wanted to do was to run away. I wanted to hide, to desperately avoid his look, his eyes and yet...when the Doctor did it, my heart skipped about five beats then proceeded to skip at light speed. He picked up the keys off the floor, his gaze stuck on my ankles, traveling up my legs, to my dress, and finally my face. By that point, I must have been red.

"Wow..." He breathed when he was finally standing up.

"I did good, didn't I?" Martha raised an eyebrow, glancing between us.

My heart continued skipping beats, my face feeling like it was the hottest day of the summer, my breath short as I tried to breathe like a normal human being...all because of one Martian's stupid gaze.

"I...look okay?" was my genius question.

"Y-yeah!" He nodded fairly fast, making me smile, "You look stunning."

"Thanks, you don't look bad yourself," I trailed his black and white suit, "You look...good."

"Yeah, still uneasy about the whole black tie thing because as we all know..." He swayed his head as we all recalled Lazarus.

"Well this time there's no aliens around except for you," I reminded him.

"You'd have to screw up seriously big this time," Martha crossed her arms.

"I won't," he assured, "And the keys?" He held them for us.

"You should keep them, neither of have pockets," I said.

"Right." And so he stuffed them in his own pocket, "Shall we get going, then?"

"Where exactly are we going?" I looked between him and Martha, this whole night having been kept a secret by both of them even after my pleads and begs to know about it.

"Secret," they both answered, the Doctor linking arms with me while Martha walked for the door.

"But my curiosity-"

"Always gets the best of you," they finished for me, "We know!"

I frowned, "Can't I please have a clue?"

"Nope!"

"But-"

"Nope!"

And so that's how I was dragged out into the streets, on Halloween, blindfolded the whole time. If they wanted to leave me somewhere, they very well could've done so. Too bad for them I knew my way back home. From a distance, I could hear some music playing, voices becoming closer as well. As we neared, the voices became louder with live music.

"Where are we? Did we go to a Halloween party because neither of us are dressed for it," I frowned as we kept walking.

"Shush!" they both replied.

I huffed and kept walking.

"Okay," the Doctor said, suddenly stopping us, "Are you ready?"

"No, I seriously love the fact I can't see anything."

"Stop being moody," Martha scolded, coughing in the end.

"1..." the Doctor began counting, "...2..."

"3!" they both exclaimed, the blindfold falling off my eyes.

"Wow..." I blinked, looking around the rather large dance floor ahead of us.

It was a public event, by the looks of it. People were dancing on the dance floor, a live performance from a stage at the head of it. There were several stands of games where children and their parents were at, a little blonde girl standing out actually...couldn't place my finger on it, though. There was an iced-lake down the hill, snow covering the surroundings except for the dance floor. It was all decorated with what seemed like Christmas lights, that hung from poles of streetlights.

"This is...wow," I stepped forwards, the little blonde girl squealing with joy as she apparently won something. She was even dressed like a raggedy doll.

The Doctor moved beside me, looking around, "It might not be the best place in all of the galaxy...but I thought it could come in as a close second, maybe?" he sighed, "I thought it was pretty, but...I mean...it might not be, I understand..."

"Doctor you better shush it because this is amazing!" I turned and hugged him, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he hugged back, sounding surprised.

"Martha," I parted a little and held out an arm for her, "Come here, thank you so much," she walked over and joined the hug, "You two are so amazing, I love you both."

"Happy birthday," they replied.

I pulled away and turned for the party, "Where do we start first?"

Martha sneezed rather loudly, "Sorry," she sniffled, her nose becoming stuffy by the tone of her voice.

"Martha, are you sure-"

'NO," she put her hand on my mouth, "Offer to make me chicken soup one more time and I'll throw you into that lake."

"But...it's iced," I glanced at the lake.

"Exactly," she smirked.

"Okay, no soup," I stepped back.

"Perhaps a dance?" she looked between us, "Everyone's doing it."

"There's three of us, and I don't like one of us staying alone," I crossed my arms.

"Oh I won't be alone," she smirked, beginning to walk away.

"Martha?" I turned after her, watching her go up to a man and tap his shoulder.

"Martha!" the young man turned around, quickly hugging her.

I gaped, "Excuse me?"

"That's Brad," the Doctor nodded, "Nice man. Seems good for Martha...if he wasn't from 1969."

'But...but...wait a minute," I shook my head, going up to the pair, the Doctor behind, "Martha Elizabeth Jones, what on earth is this?"

"Elizabeth's your middle name?" 'Brad' and the Doctor asked her.

"No," she smiled, though smirked at me, "This is Brad Ives, a co-worker of mine."

"When did this happen?" I gestured to the linked arms they now shared.

"About two days ago, told him it was your birthday and that he should show up," she grinned, "I didn't want to be a third wheel."

"It's nice to meet you," Brad held out his hand for me to shake, "Minerva Souza, Martha's best friend."

"Yeah...hello," I shook his hand, my gaze stuck on him.

He was handsome, I'll give her that. He was tall, reaching the same height as the Doctor. He had deep blue eyes and dark brown hair. The woman had good taste.

"Happy birthday," he smiled.

"Thank you," I smiled back, still confused of all this.

Martha coughed, "So," she cleared her throat afterwards, "Now we can all dance!"

"You shouldn't even be out here," Brad commented, making her frown and me beam.

"I told her that too," I crossed my arms.

"Iced lake, Minerva," she reminded, tugging Brad to the dance floor.

"What's with the iced lake?" he asked her, the pair distancing from us.

"Did you know about this?" I turned to the Doctor, demanding of him.

"Well...yeah," he looked around to avoid my look, "...she asked me not to say anything. She wanted to surprise you."

"Who is he? How old is he? Is he a respectable, good man? Is he rude? Have they gone on a date, yet?"

"Okay, Martha's mum," he took my hand, "Why don't you let the kids have their moment and allow me to take you for a dance?"

"And you're sure you won't step on me?"

"I didn't the last time," he shrugged.

"You mean China? Cause you kinda did."

He blinked, like he had committed an error for some reason, "Uh, yeah, yeah...so, care to dance with me?"

"That depends..."

"On?"

"You tell me who the hell Brad Ives is."

He chuckled, leading me to the dance floor, "Alright, gosh you're so over protective of Martha."

He wound an arm around my waist, our other hands joining together, "It's only fair. She takes care of me so I do the same," I shrugged.

"He's nice, I've met him a couple of times, seems to like her."

"So why hadn't I heard about him, then?"

"Ask Martha," he shrugged.

"You both need to stop keeping things away from me," I warned.

"You know we're sorry about that whole Kaeya fiasco."

I nodded, accepting his sincerity, "I told you, I forgive both of you. But I'm still a bit upset with Kaeya. I'll have to have a word with her when she comes back."

"...right."

"Do you think she will?" I suddenly asked, my curiosity getting the best of me...and my jealousy. I had no idea what I was gonna do when that princess showed up in the TARDIS. Well, the first thing was demand for the return of my memories. After that would be my simple heartbreak.

"Think what?"

"Do you think Kaeya will come back?" I asked again, quieter this time, "I know she said she would, but...it's been months and nothing."

"Maybe it takes a little longer."

"Are you happy she's coming back?"

"Can we...not talk about Kaeya, please?" he asked, sounding upset at the mention.

"Um...sure, sorry."

"It's your birthday, Minerva. I already screwed up by not having you with your grandmother today and I don't want you to get upset with a woman who didn't have the right to steal your memories."

"Okay," I nodded, suddenly replaying his words, "Hold on, you don't feel bad that we're still in 1969, do you?"

He looked away, "Well let's see, I got us purposely sent here and haven't gotten us out yet so...yeah."

"Doctor, you said it yourself, if we didn't do this then perhaps that Sally Sparrow could've been harmed. You did the right thing."

"But you're not with your grandmother on your birthday."

"So? I'm here with you and Martha, best present ever. My grandmother was with me for fourteen birthdays. I'm glad I got to spend one with you and Martha," I smiled, "Best one yet."

He smiled softly, his eyes looking past me then, "But you know what, I was able to sort of mend my error."

"How so?"

"Come along, Souza!" he yanked me out of the dance floor. I yelped and tried not to trip with his sudden run.

"Doctor, where are we going?" I exclaimed, nearly bumping into a woman on the way, "Sorry!" I called after her.

"Right here," he stopped, causing me to hit his back, "Oops, sorry," he moved me beside him, "Mrs. Lozano?" he called.

"Mrs what?" I shot him a look.

He gestured ahead as a blonde woman turned around, a two year old boy in her arms. But I recognized that two year old, and that blonde woman...

"Gr-grandma?" I choked out the word.

"Excuse me?" she seemed amused at my reaction.

"Minerva, I'd like you to meet some new friends I made today," the Doctor stepped over to the woman, "This is Isadora Lozano, and this-" he toyed with the toddler's hand, "-is little Aaron Lozano. Isadora, Aaron, this is my good friend, Minerva Souza."

I just...stared. I had no idea what to even think of this, how to process this...

"Nice to meet you," my grandmother held out her hand for me to shake.

"N-nice to meet you too," I couldn't stop staring at her face.

She was young. I mean, not that young, but middle-aged. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders, her deep jade-green eyes filled with nurture as they were in my time. Her face wasn't wrinkled, her hands were soft and warm. She was...so beautiful.

"I met Isadora today in a shop," the Doctor explained, "Apparently, they're on a vacation with their children."

"They?" I repeated, immediately knowing who else was with them, "Grandpa?"

"Is she okay?" my grandmother asked the Doctor.

"Misses her grandparents," he waved her off, "Minerva?"

"Sorry," I stepped over, seeing little uncle Aaron hold out his hand for me.

"Shake!" He exclaimed, making me smile.

"Sorry little guy, hello," I took his small hand and shook it.

"Isadora? I think we need to go, Sophia fell asleep." A voice I hadn't heard in years called.

A slightly older man, with dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes walked over, carrying a six-year-old blonde girl in his arms who was indeed asleep

"Oh, hello, John," he smiled at the Doctor.

I stumbled back, the Doctor quickly going to my side and aiding me before I fell back, "Oh my god..." I whispered. I'm sure I must have looked like a bug with these wide eyes of mine.

"Happy birthday," the Doctor whispered to me and dropped a kiss to my hair.

"Hello," I greeted my grandfather, my eyes tearing up very fast.

"Oh, hello," he turned around with a smile on his face.

"Alan, this is my friend I was talking about," the Doctor said, "This is Minerva Souza."

"The one who likes to see the stars as well?"

"Yes."

"Oh, very nice to meet you then," he moved to shake my hand but with 'Sophia' in his arms, it wasn't very possible.

"Oh, here," the Doctor stepped up, taking the girl into his arms for a second, knowing what it would mean to me to actually greet my grandfather, "There we go."

My grandfather looked at him with confusion but apparently had good trust in him. He held out his hand for me but I couldn't just shake his hand. I went up and hugged him. "Hello," I whispered with more tears falling down my face.

He wasn't even bothered that some girl was hugging him and crying. Instead, he just chuckled, "Hello! A hugger I see? Sophia's like that too, she has to hug everyone."

"Me too!" little Aaron inputted.

"Yes, he too," my grandfather agreed.

I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before I forcefully had to pull away from him, "Sorry...hello."

"Hello," he repeated, still not bothered.

I looked him over, smiling so brightly, "It...it was very nice to meet you." I bit my lip, the words meaning so much for me that I just burst into sobs right there and then.

"Oh my," my grandmother gasped lightly, "Is she alright?"

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" My grandfather took me into his arms again.

"I'm sorry, it's just..." But I couldn't finish the sentence. There was nothing left to say, it was him. The grandfather I mourned for deeply, the one I missed terribly...and here he was, hugging me.

"It's her 18th birthday, she's a bit emotional," the Doctor explained, watching us with a sad smile.

"Oh, and you're crying?" My grandfather asked me, "You can't have that. I always say-"

"Crying makes the stars sad," We said simultaneously.

"Hey, where'd you get that from?" He frowned, disappointed I'd taken his phrase, "I say that to my kids all the time."

"Even though it makes no sense," My grandmother scolded him, moving up beside us.

"Yet it makes them happy so I've done my job," he shrugged.

I looked between them, their silly, short arguments returning to me from my childhood. They weren't even arguments, more like ways to piss off one another for five minutes then say 'I love you' for the next hour.

"Aaron says he's gonna travel to see the stars," the Doctor suddenly said, Aaron nodding happily.

He spoke baby apparently.

"I'm sure you will," I tugged on the toddler's hand, "Just you wait."

"Are you feeling better?" My grandfather questioned me, "No more crying?"

"Yeah, sorry," I wiped my face, "Emotional...and all..."

"Well, happy birthday, Minerva," my grandmother stepped up and hugged me, little Aaron trying to do the same.

"Thank you."

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," my grandfather hugged me next. As soon as I felt his arms, I hugged him back tighter, "May you receive all the gifts you want."

Already done.

He stepped back, turning to the Doctor who handed him back the sleeping six year old in his arms, "Better get back to the hotel, now."

"What's her name?" I asked, gazing upon my sleeping mother.

"Sophia."

"Lovely name," I smiled, watching my grandfather brush a blonde lock away from her face.

"Well, we'll be going now," my grandmother said, "The kids need sleep and all."

"Nice to see you again," the Doctor waved as they walked away.

"Just...how?" I whispered, staring after them until I couldn't see them anymore.

"I was at a shop, and then a two year old wanted to take away my banana," he stuffed his hands in his pockets, "This feisty little toddler just demanded to have my banana. You know, I'm pretty sure he cursed in Spanish."

I chuckled, my uncle was known for his remarkable ability to curse in several languages.

"So then his mother comes along, Isadora, and immediately apologizes for her son's potty mouth. Though between you and me, Aaron wasn't very sorry."

"What are they doing here?"

"Vacation. The family always wanted to visit London so here they are..."

"That was my grandfather," I pointed, taking a deep breath, "My grandfather. The one I watched the stars with. The one that taught me how to ride a bike...the one that read me a bedtime story and even acted out some parts...that was him. Him."

"You okay?" The Doctor turned to me.

I looked at him, showing him my watery eyes. No, I wasn't okay but I wasn't terrible either. There was just no way to describe how I felt seeing my grandfather after such a long time processing his death. But though as impatient as I knew that the Doctor was, he didn't say anything and he didn't move. He just waited for me to answer.

"Can I please get a hug?" I asked him in a frail whisper.

"Of course," he smiled. He wrapped his arms around me, unknowingly giving me that type of support that only he was capable of. I felt his chin rest lightly over my head and his hand soothingly rubbing my back.

"He died..." I sniffled quietly.

"I know."

"I was at the burial..."

"I know."

"I miss him so much!"

"But he's never actually gone," he reminded, "In our time, anywhere actually, he's just watching out for you and his family. Didn't you tell me that?"

"Yeah, but I just saw him," I pulled away, "He was right here, he was talking."

"Who's to say he's not doing that in the afterlife?"

"You believe in the afterlife?"

"A good friend is persuading me to."

I smiled, "Doctor, this was incredible. Thank you. I will not live to repay you for this."

"I don't want a payment, I want you to be happy. I told you, didn't I? I intend for you to be happy. So I've got one last thing to give you before I call it a night."

"What? Another gift?"

"What do you mean another?" he frowned, "This wasn't it."

"But...but that was my grandfather, alive."

"Yeah, I would've showed you them anyways. Your birthday just happened to be today. No, I've got your real present right here," he patted his inside coat.

"What is it?"

"Come along," he took my hand and led us away.

And on our way, passing by the tables, I saw Martha and Brad...kissing.

"Martha Elizabeth Jones!" I nearly shouted, moving to break them apart.

"Oh no you don't, Mum," the Doctor gripped my hand and forced me to keep moving.

"But they're kissing!" I hissed.

"Yes, in public, meaning that's the only thing they'll be doing. So relax."

"But-"

"Relax."

I frowned and desisted in my attempts. We walked down the small hill, stopping in front of the iced lake.

"I hope you don't plan on pushing me out there because unlike the Monsoon, I will fall," I informed.

"No, I just liked the place, that's all. Plus, look," he pointed up.

I looked up and saw the sky with its stars, far more than the ones at my grandmother's house, "Oh..."

"Happy birthday, Minerva," he declared and when I looked back to him, he held out a small, black, rectangular box in his hand. “Minerva,” he called and when I looked back, he was holding a black, rectangular box in his hands. Before I could ask about it, he started talking. “Minerva, the name originating from the Goddess of war and wisdom, has many layers. How so I describe each one? I can't. She's classic, she's the moon and the stars, and she's my companion. She's my best friend. And today's the day that the universe decided she would be born. Happy birthday Minerva Souza.”

My eyes teared up again at such sweet words that I’m sure no one would ever say to me, and if they did...it wouldn’t hold a candle to the way the Doctor delivered the words.

I gingerly took the gift from him. "What is it?"

"Take it and open it up," he instructed with sarcasm.

I pulled the lid off to find a silver necklace neatly tucked inside. It was dark silver with a small chain holding a circular pendant. I picked it up, finding some symbols on the front of the pendant, strangely familiar because as I recalled...

"What's this, Doctor?" I gestured to the symbols.

"Uh...see...I thought, you'd like to know, maybe...how your name would look if it was written in a new language."

"Well, what language is it?" I asked, holding it right in front of me to get a closer look.

"Mine," he said and my eyes immediately snapped to him. "It's mine, the language..." he cleared his throat, "It's mine. Gallifreyan."

"I knew it," I started smiling, "This is wonderful!"

"So you like it?"

"Mhm, it's so pretty!" I held the pendant in my palm, all the crazy symbols just making me smile at the effort he must have put into this, "You translated my name into your language?" He nodded, "Wow...this is beautiful, really, really beautiful. Thank you."

"It was because of that-" he pointed to the necklace, "-that I met Isadora and Aaron. I just needed the chain and went to a shop..."

"How did you even make this?"

"With effort and motivation," he shrugged, "And the look on your face was my motivation."

"I was your motivation?"

"Yeah, and I'm glad to see you liked it."

"No, no, I love it," I handed him the box and started fastening the necklace around my neck, "This is never coming off."

"It looks beautiful on you," he remarked and I silently thanked the heavens it was dark enough to hide my blush perfectly.

If he did all these sweet things for me...doesn't that mean something? Would it mean that Kaeya perhaps wasn't his choice? Could I dare to think this possibility...?

~0~

"Over here," I flicked on the lights as the Doctor entered the apartment, a half-asleep Martha in his arms.

Poor thing was just so sick now.

"Martha, we're bringing you to bed now," the Martian informed as he headed for the hallways while I closed the door with lock.

"Mhm...Brad?"

"No!" I shouted, following after them.

The Doctor entered our room first so I quickly went past him to pull the covers of the bed for them, "Maybe now would be a good time for some soup."

"Shut up," Martha muttered, pulling the covers over her and literally sprawling all over the bed.

"Hm," I crossed my arms, "It'll be interesting to find a spot to sleep in."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, going into a coughing fit.

"I told her we shouldn't have gone out," I sighed, moving up and placing a hand over her forehead, feeling no fever yet.

"I'll go to the living room," she started moving up.

"No!"

"You and I can't share the room because you'll get sick," she tried to argue before sneezing.

"I'm not gonna let my best friend, who is sick as dog, sleep on the couch. Lay down, and go to sleep."

"I'm not gonna let my best friend take the couch on her birthday."

"Martha!"

"Minerva!"

"No arguing," the Doctor cut in, "Minerva, you take my room, I'll take the living room. There. Martha, you stay in bed and try to get some sleep."

She nodded, coughing again, "Okay."

"Doctor, you don't have to," I whispered as Martha laid down again, pulling the covers over her.

"Sh," he put a finger on his lips, nodding to the woman on the bed.

"Martha?" I glanced back.

Silence.

She had fallen asleep.

"We're gonna need to take her to a doctor tomorrow," I informed the Martian, "A human one, anyways."

"Ha, ha," he headed for the door.

"No, wait," I reached to stop him, about to make another insistence on me taking the couch when I yawned as well.

"I'll get my things out of my room for you," he smiled and walked out.

I sighed, feeling too tired to just go and follow. I'd get changed, make my argument, then fall on the couch dead asleep. The public dance party tired me out completely. After the little presents the Doctor had given me, we returned to the dance floor, actually danced both slow and fast songs. Then, along with Martha and Brad, we moved onto the game stands, gone out to eat, and just taken walks around the city, seeing what else we could do. It was just lovely!

I don't think any birthday would ever compare to this one.

After checking up on Martha one more time, I walked for the Doctor's room. I had changed into a my white nightie once more and pulled over my silver robe. I braided my hair to the side as I knocked on the Martian's room.

"Come in!"

I opened the door and walked inside, "I came to say I'm just fine in the living room."

"None of that," he wagged a finger, his other hand tugging off his tie, "I don't even need the same amount of sleep as you two do."

"Yeah, but I also know you haven't been sleeping lately because of the Sally Sparrow dilemma, so you'll be needing some sleep tonight," I finished braiding my hair and clapped my hands, "So, I'll take that couch and that's that. Besides, I've slept in a desert, on the ground. A comfy, cushiony couch is far too big of a step up!"

He rolled his eyes, "Take that step outside and I'll personally drag you back in here."

"Oh, scary Martian," I teased.

"How's Martha?"

"Oh, asleep," I walked over to the bed, plopping down, "'But she's coughing like crazy. Still no fever so I guess that's good. No infection or anything."

"We'll take care of her tomorrow," he promised.

I yawned, "You can take the morning shift."

He went around the room, gathering his things for the night, discreetly pulling out his pajamas that would tell me he was planning on actually sleeping tonight.

"Where's my toothbrush?" he looked around.

I glanced back, seeing said toothbrush on one of his nightstand's. I crawled up and reached for it, "Right here!"

"How'd you find it?" he frowned, walking over and taking it.

"Because I actually look for my things. And why is your toothbrush in here and not in the bathroom?" I nodded towards the door on our left.

"Um...I forgot to bring it back?"

"Men," I rolled my eyes.

"I'm gonna go brush my teeth and get changed then I'll leave, alright?"

"But I told you-"

And then he pushed me down, "Yeah, goodnight," he turned away for the bathroom.

"That was rude!" I called after him, throwing a pillow that nearly got him but instead hit the door.

I turned to the side, actually liking the comfiness. And also, it tended to give off the Doctor's scent, making me feel like he was still here. I closed my eyes, smiling as I breathed in that minty scent of his, wishing he could actually be right here. Perhaps, one day, if he miraculously returned my feelings, we could be like this...together, sleeping in each other's arms.

But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Kaeya was still out there, coming back to him...and he loved her. Of course he'd stay with her. Perhaps they'd even sleep in the same room, just like this one, in the TARDIS, in each other's arms. I put a hand to my chest, squeezing my eyes tighter as it pained me to think of that. How would I live with those two around? I still had my doubt whether or not to stay in the box of wonders. Part of my screamed 'yes' because it would be the most practical things to do. But another part didn't want to let go. But I knew my heart wouldn't be able take that amount of pain. I wouldn't be able to live with the Doctor and Kaeya, knowing how much they loved each other and would always do. Leaving seemed like the smartest thing to do...

"Minerva, there's more blankets if..." the Doctor had returned, but I maintained my eyes closed.

These stupid thoughts were threatening to show their consequences and frankly, I didn't feel like crying on my birthday. I wanted to sleep and that's it. So I kept my eyes shut, hoping to fool the Martian so he'd leave and let me finally fall asleep. But something else happened instead.

The covers were pulled over me, up to my shoulders. The bed shuffled a bit and I assumed he had taken a seat beside me, his hand brushing the side of my face.

"Happy birthday, clever, sassy girl," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I thought that would be the end of it and he'd go on his way...but he didn't.

The bed shuffled once more and then I felt his hand repeatedly trailing down and up the side of my face, his scent growing stronger and stronger due what I assumed was him nearing. I was sure my racing heart would give me away that I was faking to be asleep but he didn't notice it.

And then it happened.

My lips felt something pressed up against them, something soft, something warm. My eyes snapped open to see it was him, the Doctor, kissing me...on the lips...out of his free will. His eyes were closed for the moment, unable to see my fake 'sleepiness'. And for some reason, I decided to let him continue to believe that. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to try and stay calm. But how could I!?

He pulled away from his short kiss, the cold October air once again taking control of mine, and he sighed, "...I wish you'd remember."

The bed shuffled once more as he got up, heaving another heavy sigh as his footsteps distanced themselves from the bed, until the door was opened and shut. A couple of minutes passed before I opened my eyes.

What had happened? What was I supposed to remember?

While all these questions popped into my head, I sat up, my fingers went up to my lips as they curved into a smile, my heart racing with joy.

He had kissed me. There was no apology, no explanation, no anticipation...nothing. He had kissed me because he wanted to. And this time, this time, I would not be too' sweet' nor too 'oblivious'. This time, I'd speak out my feelings. Because if he decided to kiss me like this, hidden, it was because he had something hidden in his hearts...

...and I was determined to discover it.

~0~

London, 2007.

Sally Sparrow and Larry Nightingale sat in the old abandoned house in which Sally had found the Doctor's message in. There was a portable DVD player which Larry had brought which held the mysterious Easter Eggs of the Doctor...and two other women.

"Okay, this is the one with the clearest sound. Slightly better picture quality on this one, but I don't..." Larry was fiddling with the DVD player.

"Doesn't matter," Sally waved it off.

"Okay. There he is."

"The Doctor."

"Who's the Doctor?"

"He's the Doctor."

"Yep. That's me," the Doctor on the monitor said, startling Sally.

"Okay, that was scary."

"No, it sounds like he's replying, but he always says that," Larry said, though he was a bit freaked out himself. Out of all the times he'd seen those videos, not once had anyone concurred with the man on the monitor.

"Yes, I do," the Doctor continued.

"And that," Larry pointed.

"Yep, and this."

"He can hear us. Oh, my God, you can really hear us!" Sally exclaimed.

"Of course he can't hear us. Look! I've got a transcript, see, everything he says," Larry showed Sally the transcript, "Yep, that's me". "Yes, I do". "Yep, and this". Next it's..."

"Are you going to read out the whole thing?"

"Sorry."

"Who are you?" Sally asked, choosing to ignore the fact Larry had concurred with him too.

"I'm a time traveler. Or I was. I'm stuck in 1969."

"We're stuck," a brunette women smacked him on the arm before heaving a sigh.

"I thought you weren't mad anymore!"

"Never said that," she pointed at him.

Another woman moved into the screen, smacking the man on his other arm, "All of space and time, he promised me. Now I've got a job in a shop, she's got a job in a department store, and we've got to support him!"

"Martha! Minerva!" he shot both women some glares, not that any of them seem to care.

"I've seen this bit before," Sally remarked.

"Quite possibly," the Doctor said.

"1969, that's where you're talking from?"

"'Fraid so."

"But you're replying to me. You can't know exactly what I'm gonna say, 40 years before I say it!"

"Technically it's 38," Minerva shrugged, "You get a lot of time to get math right..." she looked at the Doctor who just returned it with a smirk.

"I told you I'd make you learn everything I knew."

She elbowed him and that was the finish of that.

"I love her," Larry chuckled as he scribbled on the transcript, "I'm getting this down! I'm writing in your bits," he said to Sally.

"How? How is this possible? Tell me!" Sally demanded, biting back a chuckle as well.

"Not so fast," Larry said.

"People don't understand time. It's not what you think it is," the Doctor began explaining.

"Then what is it?" Sally asked

"Complicated."

"Tell me."

"Very complicated."

"I'm clever and I'm listening. And don't patronize me because people have died, and I'm not happy. Tell me."

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff."

"Okay, I refuse from this point on to call you the Oncoming Storm," Minerva gave him a serious look, "Wibbly Wobbly, timey wimey?"

"That makes two," Martha raised her hand.

"Yeah, I've seen this bit before. You said that sentence got away from you," Sally pointed, the Doctor immediately saying it after, "And then she says, 'You're just an idiot'," she and Minerva said simultaneously.

"Seriously, love her," Larry chuckled again, shaking his head.

"And then the next thing you're going to say is, "Well, I can hear you"," Sally continued.

"Well, I can hear you," the Doctor said.

"This isn't possible."

"No. It's brilliant!" Larry exclaimed.

"Oh don't think he's that smart," Martha waved off the screen, "We can't hear you, exactly."

"But we know exactly everything you're going to say," Minerva finished.

"Always gives me the shivers, that bit," remarked Larry.

"How can you know what I'm going to say?" Sally asked, confused.

"Look to your left," the Doctor instructed.

"What does he mean by, "Look to your left"? I've written tons about that on the forums. I think it's a political statement," Larry rambled on.

Sally looked at him, shaking her head, "He means you. What are you doing?"

"I'm writing in your bits. So I've got a complete transcript of the whole conversation. Wait until this hits the net. This will explode the egg forums."

"We've got a copy of the finished transcript. It's on my Auto-cue," the Doctor explained.

"How can you have a copy of the finished transcript? It is still being written," Sally nearly threw her head back in frustration.

"I told you. I'm a time traveler. I got it in the future."

"Okay, let me get my head 'round this. You're reading from a transcript of a conversation you're still having? Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey."

"You just made a poor human say those words," Minerva shook her head, "Shame on you, Martian."

"What matters is we can communicate," the Doctor rolled his eyes at the brunette, "We have got big problems now. They've taken the blue box, haven't they? The angels have the phone box."

"The angels have the phone box! That's my favorite, I've got it on a tee-shirt!"

"What do you mean, angels? You mean those statue things?" Sally asked, just knowing those things weren't good.

"Creatures from another world."

"But they're just statues."

"Only when you see them."

"What does that mean?"

"Lonely assassins, they were called. No-one knows where they came from. They're as old as the universe, or very nearly. They've survived this long as they have the most perfect defense system ever evolved. They are quantum-locked. They don't exist when being observed. The moment they're seen by any other living creature they freeze into rock. No choice. It's a fact of their biology. In the sight of any living thing, they literally turn to stone. And you can't kill a stone. Course, a stone can't kill you either. But then you turn your head away, then you blink, and oh, yes it can!"

"Don't take your eyes off that," Sally ordered Larry, nodding towards one Angel that was in the garden ahead of them.

"That's why they cover their eyes. They're not weeping, they can't risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse. They can never be seen. The loneliest creatures in the universe. And I'm sorry, I am very, very sorry, it's up to you now."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"The blue box, it's my time machine. There is a world of time energy in there they could feast on forever. The damage they can do can switch off the sun. You have got to send it back to me!"

"How? How?"

"And that's it, I'm afraid. There's no more from you on the transcript, that's all I've got. I dunno what stopped you talking, but I can guess. They're coming. The angels are coming for you. But listen, your life could depend on this. Don't blink! Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast, faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink! Good luck!"

Sally looked up, almost flinching when she realized something crucially important...Larry had stopped watching the Angel.

#ocappreciation #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor who fics #10th doctor fics #doctor who imagines #10th doctor imagines #martha jones #oc: Minerva Souza #fic: next stop eveywhere

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cabaretcal · 5 years

Text

tell me your favorite songs // c.h.

Hello! This is the second piece in my 9to5!sos series! In case you aren’t aware, my 9 to 5 series is the boys in like, normal jobs. I have already posted the Luke one where he is a waiter. Ashton will be a barista and Michael will work in a bookstore. Hope you guys like this fic in the series! I made a playlist to go with this fic in particular with every song I mentioned!

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: record shop!calum x reader

Content: smut, praise kink, brief choking, a lot of fluff, and good songs

—

You parked your car in the mostly empty parking lot of the local record store. You just bought an apartment in your hometown after finishing college, and it was great to be back to what you knew. You were a frequent customer at this particular record shop before you left for college, so when you came back, you knew you had to stop by again. You walked in and were greeted by the sound of Rebel Rebel by David Bowie playing over the speakers and monotone voice coming out of nowhere, “Welcome to Josey Records, how's it going?”

You turned to the counter to see a boy with dark curly hair and brown eyes. He had a round face and strong brows, and he sported a Guns N Roses tee and plaid trousers. If looks could kill, you’d be dead on arrival. He looked bored to death as he sorted through some boxes of records. He looked oddly familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.

“Oh, just potentially buying a new record. Not sure which, though.” The records were sorted alphabetically, and you looked through the J’s. Janis Joplin, Jimmy Eat World, Elton John, and even the Jonas Brothers were there. There was a good mix of every genre, and you were eager to check the whole place out after 4 years of being away.

“Looking for any artist in particular? I don’t know what music you like, but I also don’t know if you only buy vinyl to display or your wall and never play. Most girls are that type.”

You were taken aback at his comment for sure. If he was planning on getting any sales, that wasn’t any way to talk to a customer. “Pardon me?Most girls?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Well, you just seem like the type of girl to buy a vinyl of The Neighbourhood or Ariana Grande to display on a shelf and collect dust rather than any good music is all.”

Oh, he was one of THOSE types of record store employees. A music snob. He probably worships The Rolling Stones or U2 just because they aren’t mainstream. But this is the only record store in town, and you weren’t going to just stop coming here. You walked up to the counter, and looked straight into his eyes, “Listen, uh, what is it,” you looked down at his name tag and back up at him, “Calum. Wait a minute,” Everything made sense. You did know him. 11 AM until 2 PM every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday you had music theory with him your junior year of highschool. He was a music snob back then, and obviously nothing had changed, “We had music theory together, Calum Hood. Obviously you’re still an arrogant prick.”

He scoffed, “Well, sweetheart, at least I have taste, because you obviously don’t.”

You rolled your eyes, going back to the J’s and picking up To Be Continued by Elton John and setting it on the counter, “I’ve been looking for this one for a while, so how about you ring me up so I can leave.”

He chuckled, ringing it up and telling you the total with a cocky grin, obviously glad he got under your skin.

You gave him exact change and grabbed the record, leaving without a word. You got back into your car and drove to your apartment, walking up the endless flight of stairs and going inside. You took your shoes off and went to the bedroom to change into comfier clothes. You then turned on the TV and picked a show on Hulu to watch and drift asleep to.

—

You awoke to the buildings fire alarm going off. You cursed quietly, quickly slipping on the nearest pair of shoes and running downstairs and outside. Everyone was also slowly exiting the building one by one, extremely groggy and tired. You looked at your phone to check the time, and it was 3 in the morning. You looked down at your attire— a crop top with extremely short sleep shorts. God, you’d do anything to not be seen in your sleep clothes. A tall figure stood near you and crossed their arms, complaining about the fire alarm going off at such an hour. You looked over and to your unpleasant surprise, it was Calum. Oh, great, he happened to live in your apartment building. Absolutely splendid.

“Oh, hey, Y/N, looks like you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms to cover your exposed stomach.

“Unfortunately, Cal, I really fucking can’t get rid of you.” You were obviously annoyed. You thought you’d only have to see him when you went to the record store, but now here he was living in the same building.

He looked you up and down, liking what he saw. You crossed your arms around you tighter, despite the fact that it hid nothing. He chuckled, shaking his head, “Make sure you come back to the shop, if you wanna prove you actually have taste. You got lucky after buying that Elton John album, you gained respect from me, darling.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. The alarm turned out to be a fluke and everyone was told they could go back to their apartments. You silently went back up the stairs, trying to stop thinking about Calum’s request. Was he taunting, or did he actually want to see you? You got back into bed, not being able to think of anything else.

—

You decided to go back to the record store and prove to Calum you had good taste in music. You parked your car and made your way inside the shop, this time greeted by the sound of Lola by The Kinks and a cheerful greeting from none other than Calum.

“Hey there, neighbor! What are you looking for this time?”

Your mind thought of any album that might possibly impress Calum. Abbey Road? No, too basic. Slippery When Wet? You already owned two copies. You sighed, saying the next thing to come to your head, “Tell Me I’m Pretty?”

He went to the computer, typing it in and shaking his head, “By Cage the Elephant? Sold the last one a month ago and never restocked. Sorry, darling. Good choice, though. Even if they’re a little mainstream.”

You leaned on the counter, resting your cheek on your hand, “Why don’t you recommend me something? Since you apparently have great taste.”

He excitedly came out from behind the counter and led me to the G’s in the indie/alternative section. He pulled out a record with a boy with candle sticks on each of his fingers on the cover. He handed it to me, smiling with pride, “This album is called This Is It by The Greeting Committee. They aren’t very popular here. They’re from Kansas City, but they’re amazing. I think you’d like them. You’ve Got Me is my favorite song on there, also Don’t Go.”

You took a look at the track list, counting the number of songs. You nodded, “Okay, I’ll listen, but only if you let me recommend you something.”

He leaned against a display, “Alright, fine. Go get something and I’ll take it home tonight and listen. It better be good.”

You grinned, handing him his choice for you and also looking through the G’s. You pulled out How To Be A Human Being by Glass Animals and handed it to him, “Youth is my favorite track, but they’re all good. Pork Soda is great, too.”

He took a look at the cover and the track list, nodding, intrigued to hear your recommendation, “How about you give me another one just for the hell of it and I give you another one?”

You nodded, and you both parted ways to go find another. You went to the T’s and picked out Tame Impala’s album Currents. Take Impala was slightly mainstream, but they were your favorite, so you took the chance of giving it to him. You met him at the counter, second guessing your choice, “I chose Currents by Tame Impala, and I recommend you listen to Let It Happen, but you might not like it because they’re sort of mainstream, so if you want I can look for another-“

He interrupted you, smiling, “I’ll listen to whatever you want me to, regardless of popularity. I got you Fleetwood Mac’s wonderful album, Rumors! I remember you mentioning you’ve never listened to them before, and I think it’s a necessity in your collection. Listen to Dreams and Gold Dust Woman.”

“You were listening? When I walked into Mr Meyer’s classroom and I asked what song he was playing? Senior year?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Well, of course, I can’t go on with my life knowing you’ve never listened to Fleetwood Mac! That’s a sin.”

You smiled, nodding and handing him your recommendation, “Okay, I’ll listen tonight then.”

He grinned, ringing you up, “$16.12.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly confused, “Did you forget to ring up the second one? That’s really cheap for two vinyls.”

“Second one is on me. For my favorite customer.” He put it in a bag, smiling at you sincerely.

You couldn’t help but blush before uttering out a thank you and leaving to your car.

—

I lose all control whenever you're around

Darling, don't you know

Now I must admit

I wouldn't last a single day

Without you in it

You sat on your living room couch, listening to every word of every song on the first album he recommended. The song playing was his favorite on the album, You’ve Got Me, and you couldn’t blame him for calling it his favorite. It was a good song, and it was beautifully written.

Meanwhile, Calum was listening to your first recommendation. He would usually not listen to music that had this sound, but he really enjoyed it. And the fact that it came from you made him like it even more. He wasn’t confused about what he was feeling in the slightest— he made a point when he gave you that recommendation. That album has tons of love songs. He was enchanted by you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. There was something about you he just loved. Maybe it was your feisty attitude, or the fact that you made a point to prove yourself to him, but he would go into a trance when he saw you. He needed to see you now. He knew which room number was yours— you were only a few floors down. He decided to swallow his pride and go down to your room. He stood in front of your door and knocked; There was no going back now.

You answered the door, surprised to see Calum there, “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, thinking of what the hell he could say, “I was wondering if you’d like to join me for dinner at my place? I’m ordering takeout, and it’s no fun to have alone.” Nailed it. But now he had to pretend he didn’t just eat leftovers already.

“Um, sure, I’d like that.” You smile, slipping on your shoes that were by the door and quickly running to take the needle off of the record and put it back in the case. You then come back and close the door behind you as you exit your apartment.

He led you to his apartment, praying it wasn’t too messy. He unlocked the door and let you go in first, following behind and closing the door.

“I’m gonna order the food. If you want, you can choose a vinyl to put on.” He smiled at you, walking to the other room to talk on the phone. You looked through his collection, and it was impressive. He had every album by Joy Division on the shelf, and he also a few rare records displayed on the wall. You looked through the ones on the shelf, surprised to see a few Mac Demarco album. Calum walked back into the living room, sitting on the couch and waiting for you to choose an album.

“So, you’re a big Mac Demarco fan?”

He sat up, seeing his copy of 2 in your hands and blushing, “Uh, it’s a guilty pleasure.”

You put it on the player, moving the needle onto it and smiling at him, “I love this album.”

He smiled, patting the spot next to him, inviting you to sit beside him. You got up, taking his request and sitting beside him.

“Listen, I’m sorry for being kind of a dick that first day you came to the shop. I feel really bad.”

You shook your head, chuckling a bit, “It’s okay, Cal. Obviously you teased me because you like me.”

He blushed, “What? Where would you get that idea, I’ve never even looked at a girl!” He laughed, looking away from you and then back. He did like you. You were both silent as the sound of The Stars Keep On Calling My Name faded into My Kind of Woman. He wanted to kiss you. He needed to kiss you. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up to your eyes, and he moved a piece of your hair out of your eyes, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. He leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips. At first, he was just gonna kiss you sweetly. Just to get the point across he liked you. That was all. But he wanted more than one little kiss. He kissed you again, harder this time. He pulled you into his lap, resting his hands on your hips as he moved his lips down to your neck. He paused, mumbling against your skin, “Is this alright, darling?”

You nodded, desperate for his touch. He then continued the action, peppering kisses here and there.

He came back up to look at you, singing the words of the song to you dramatically, “You’re making me crazy, really driving me mad!”

You giggled, blushing as he took your face in his hand, kissing you deeply.

He fiddled with the button on your jeans, looking up at you for permission. You nodded, and he pulled them off of you. You sat up, pulling your shirt off and throwing it across the room. He looked at you in awe, undoing his belt. His knee made its way between your legs, spreading them apart. He smiled, twirling a piece of your hair around his finger, “You’re so pretty, baby. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You blushed, shaking your head and looking away, “No no, not the prettiest.”

He frowned, putting his lips to your ear, “Let me make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world, yeah? Can you let me do that?”

You nodded, and he hooked his fingers onto your panties and pulled them off. He slowly pushed into you, allowing you to adjust to him. Your breath got quicker and heavier, and you gripped his shoulder, digging your nails into his skin. You couldn’t get any real words out, only moans.

He buried his face into your shoulder, gripping your waist with one hand to keep you in place, “You’re doing so good, darling. Taking me so well, aren’t you?” His lips met yours once more, kissing you sweetly and pulling back away.

You took his free hand by his wrist, placing his hand on your collarbones, hinting at something you wanted.

It took no time for him to understand, and he applied slight pressure to your neck. Finally, someone who actually knew how to choke. You gripped his wrist tighter, whimpering as he began to move faster inside of you.

“Are you gonna cum for me, princess? Are you ready?”

You nodded, feeling a pit in your stomach. Your walls clenched around him, and before you knew it, you came undone. You opened your eyes slowly, trying to catch your breath.

“You alright, darling? You did so good for me.” He ran his thumb over the marks on your neck, taking pride in what he left on your skin.

The doorbell rang, and Calum quickly put his jeans back on and throwing a blanket over top of you. He opened the door, and it was the takeout delivery. He quickly paid, telling the young guy to keep the change and closed the door.

He placed the bag on the coffee table, sitting beside you on the couch and handing you your clothes, “So… do you want the egg rolls or the dumplings?”

You were glad you fell for the dork from the record store.

Taglist!

@i-calumhood

@angelbabylu

@blahehblah

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isopale · 5 years

Text

Here is my entry for @covered-byroses turning 1 writing challenge!

This is my first time writing anything for others to see, and it kinda got away from me... Had to cut it off where i did for now because it juat kept going and going and going..... And next thing i know wow.

Summary: You have a secret you've kept hidden all this time. Until something kills your husband and threatens to expose everything. Just so happens a couple hunters get more than the case they signed up for.

Pairing: none (yet 😘)

Warnings: character death (vaguely/generally discribed)

A quiet normal life was obviously too much to ask for. The past few years had been a lot of running around from place to place, ducking monsters and hunters. Was there nowhere that didn't have some kind of monster in it? How hard was it really?

The monsters never bothered you, they all seemed to know something was off and to stay away. You don't bother them, they don't bother you, simple as that. But some the hunters that came after them were different, these humans that have made it their duty to protect the clueless ones could be dangerous. Some of them have let the jobs get into their heads, and it's changed them. That's why you always left any town they came to, just to be safe.

Angels and demons on the other hand were absolute nightmares. You had spent more than your fair share with them and fighting them. If an angel was in a town, it was drop everything and run before they see you. Demon, leave before a hunter comes since most demons topside were too young go recognize you.

With all the constant moving, you were alone.

Until you met your (murdered) husband. He was a self proclaimed free spirit. Loved to move from place to place and rarely stayed anywhere for more than a few months. You had been hesitant but eventually warmed up to him and before long married, and fell in love. Since he just sooo happened to show up in the same places as you, he was a risk you wanted to take. He was your guilty pleasure, and his death was your fault.

He never knew what hit him. But obviously some demon went looking for the legend not even your dear old dad believed.

After your husband was murdered, you made it your obsession to find and kill it. Someone was talking and it wasn't going to end well.

You had been looking around and discovered that there was apparently a pack of wolves living in town. Small pack, looks to be exclusively family unit. Mother, father, and 2 girls (possibly nearing their 20s) and a teenage boy.

Of course… never a dull moment.

Not too surprising being in the middle of nowhere texas, but in the weeks you had been watching them they only fed on their livestock.

Which makes other murders in town very strange. What ever was responsible made sure to make it look like a werewolf attack.

…

Sam and Dean had been interviewing the investigators and witnesses all day for these “animal attacks”.

“Sounds like a werewolf Sammy,” Dean said opening a beer from the mini fridge.

“Yeah. Where is it hiding though?” Sam mused leaning back in the ratty bedside chair. “No one i touched was bothered by the silver ring today.”

“Good idea of Bobby's by the way. I might have to go check the local talent with it,” Dean said with a smirk lounging on one of the two small beds in the motel room.

“Dude,”

“oh Lighten up Sammy. I was gonna let you go first this time”

“Do whatever you want. I'm going to bed.” Sam rolled his eyes before moving to the other bed, that was a few inches too short for him “Remember we have to talk to the widows tomorrow so try not to have hooker glitter on you this time.”

“That only happened once.”

…

You didn't like to make a habit of being near hunters but you couldn't leave town now. It had only been a few months since you were married and less than a year since you and your husband had known each other. But that didn't make it hurt any less. It had been so long since you had had someone close to you.

You had visited the wolfs farm, this time to talk instead of spy, this morning before work at the small second hand clothes shop downtown. The Hensen's, you should probably remember their name. They were nice and accommodating once convinced you weren't there to harm them. Josh, the husband, wide and sturdy man was willing and ready to end any threat to his family. (Oh those hunters are going to have fun with this one) Amelia, the mother, tall woman towering over you although extremely soft spoken due to then she was turned her throat had very nearly been ripped out leaving a large angry scar. (You wondered if the big one of the two hunters was taller than her) The girls were twins, Anna and Marie, simple small town girls. And the son, Rich, solid country muscle farm boy.

They had been living there for years, long enough to build up that farm and to have the stock numbers to cover their feeding habits. They always sold or gave away what they didn't need. Most of the town thought they ran a home butcher shop and over the years that's what it turned into. But now with the murders and the hunters in town they were all on high alert.

Those hunters were going around town talking to the other 3 widows. Now you could see them through the store window across the street parking that vintage beauty. Both of them were way too sexy to be whatever government agents they were pretending to be. Sex with your husband (the few times it did happen) was great it was meaningful, but he would rather sleep under the stars or not leave the couch unless absolutely necessary to binge on something. But these two hunters made you think sinful thoughts.

Oh if only boys.

Putting on your customer service voice “Good afternoon gentleman. How can I help you?”

“We're federal agents in town working the recent animal attack cases,” the shorter of the two stated as they flash very nice but very fake FBI badges. “We were wondering if there was a (y/n y/l/n) here.”

“That would be me.” not even trying to remember the names on the ids, they wouldn't be real anyway. “Are you going to find out what happened to my husband?”

“Yes ma'am, we are very sorry for your loss,” now it's the taller ones turn “but we were hoping we could ask you a few questions?”

Giving them a sad smile before turning back to arrange new rack of clothes “Sure but i'm the only one here until closing at 6. You can ask here or wait until then.”

The tall one narrowed his eyes slightly. He seemed to want to say something else.

I don't even know what I'm not supposed to know. Normal people don't think werewolf right?

“How 'bout you meet us at the diner down the street when you get off? You can help us out over a quick bite,” he stepped around the small rolling rack of new clothes to make you look at him.

“Sure,” you try your best to hold back fake tears “I'll be there about 15 after.”

…

Too bad you didn't have time to creep on them before the diner, you have to admit they were nice to look at.

They're waiting in a booth in the back, both on one side with backs against the wall to watch everyone else. The tall one with long hair politely waves his hand when you enter. The shorter one has beautiful green eyes, he stands and helps you into the benchseat across from them. The had already ordered you a coffee and a glass of water.

“Thank you for coming Ms (y/l/n),” says the tall one

“How long were you and your husband living here before he was attacked?” Asks the green eyed hunter

“We only came here about a month ago. We didn't plan on staying, we wanted to travel around the country. You know live on the road,” You say not entirely lying “we just pick somewhere to go and get some small jobs around to hold us over for a bit.”

“Wait you don't live here?” Asked the tall one, he was trying to hide his suspicion with empathy.

Hunters…

“No, I'm still staying in the little motel,” you say “I was going to switch rooms but… i couldn't bring myself to…” you say fake holding back tears, you've shed all the tears you needed. Now you want the thing that killed him to suffer.

“We're sorry.” Says the tall one, his features soften and he gives you a look of genuine sympathy. “Why did you stay? Couldn't you have gone back home?”

“Neither of us have any family anywhere, we’re alone.” Now you hold back real tears, suddenly very interested in that coffee.

Taking a sip you realize why it was there before you were. Holy water. It stings some now when it usually doesn't, but you hold your composure. These two aren't playing around, they legitimately think you're the killer.

When green eyes shifts his hands on the table you notice why he helped you into the seat.

Holy water and silver rings, these two are a lot more interesting than i thought.

You sigh and decide to tell them what they want to know… sort of.

“I'm not the one who killed those people or my husband.” you whisper. They glance at each other and some unspoken thing goes between them but before they can feed you more BS you continue. “It wasn't a werewolf either. I know it looks bad but the bodies should have been more tore up, when has a wolf ever ripped out a heart without leaving any other marks?”

“Ma'am werewolves don't exist. We know traumatic experiences like this ca--” the long haired giant begins but green eyes stops him.

“Sam she knows.” He whispers to him “I guess we can cut the act for you then.” He directs to you this time. “What do you know?”

Mmm like to be incharge do ya not-sam.

“I'll tell you what I know but it's not much, and not here. I'm leaving in the morning,” You say “meet me at the butchers farm outside town in an hour.” You get up to leave not waiting for an answer.

…

After the 15 minute walk back to the motel you enter your room. You spare one last glance at the first bed and your heart clenches. You just need to pack the few clothes you have in your backpack and the essentials and be on your way to the farm. You plan on staying with the wolves until the hunters leave and your mind is too preoccupied with things to take and things to leave you didn't notice the rug was moved. Then you bumped the barrier reaching for the moon necklace your husband had given you. You had been so hurt and angry lately you hadn't been careful enough.

“Told you Sammy.” You heard from the doorway

You had not been pissed before but you were now. Hunters, always shoot first and ask questions after. Between angels, demons, and hunters you couldn't catch a break.

“Why'd you do it? Was he even your husband or just some poor sap that happened to be passing through town at the same time?” Sam asked accusingly

“It's not what you think” you say taking a breath to calm down and try and get out of the circle. But green eyes cuts you off.

“Why do you demons think you can just kill whenever you want and we won't find you,” he opens a small leather book “ now were going to save that poor girl you're wearin--”

“I LOVED HIM! LOOK AROUND YOU IDIOT!” So much for calm. You raise your hand and they both are flung against the headboards. You shut your eyes and take another breath.

You feel the darkness fading and with it the circles hold as you step over the barrier, careful to keep your hold on the men before you. You open your eyes to see them staring wide eyed and speechless. Their eyes locked on yours, you know they see the black they are used to but yours also have the familiar blue-white glow as well.

“What are you?” Sam breathes

Striding to the nightstand between the beds you slowly take your necklace before answering “I WILL find out who killed my husband, with or without your help. You have 20 minutes to be at the butchers now and I'll tell you what i know.” You say firmly making your way to the door making sure to walk through the circle again for them to see.

You spare one last look at them. “You know if i was into being on this end of things you two might be in trouble like that”

You release your hold on them as you slip out the door on the last word.

…

Something was different about the boy when you had ran into him that morning before the hunters came to the shop and you were hoping you were wrong.

Even if I'm right I can just fix him when I'm done.

You had been running since you left the motel, you're not going back to that little car you had since someone probably will recognize it again.

“(Y/N)!”

You skid to a stop in front of the Hensen's gate, trying to slow your breathing and heart rate after the 2 mile run.

“(Y/N)!” It must be one of the twins running up the drive yelling for you.

“Please. There's something wrong with Rich.”

Just then you hear the roar of the hunters car coming up the road.

“Get the rest of your family and hide. DO NOT come out until i come get you.” You grab her shoulders and make her look at you “Where is he?”

“He- he's in the barn. Mom is went after him, please don't let them hurt them.” She sobs

You shove her toward the house “GO!” Then tear off to the barn in the light of the hunters impala.

Just before you reach the barn a body is thrown through the doors, you manage to stop it in the air before it smashes into you. It's the mother, you lay her gently at your feet never touching her. It's been so long since you've used your powers it feels good to do it again.

“Don't you touch her!” The green eyed hunter yells gun drawn on you.

You hover your hand over the mother and let the healing white light do its job. Both men stand above you guns at the ready.when When you're done you snap your fingers and send her to her own bed far away from the hunters, still unsure if they will leave this family alone.

…

Dean and I argued the whole way to the farm about (y/n). He thinks it's some kind of demon trick that she got out of the devils trap, that she must have broke the circle before stepping in it. But i saw her run into it, it stopped her from reaching the nightstand when she reached out.

Then her still using her powers on us while trapped shouldn't be possible. And those eyes. Cas’ eyes only glow blue-white in the iris’, and no other angel has black around them. Whatever she is we've never seen anything like her.

'Into being on this end of things…’ more arousing than it should be coming from a possible demon.

Before we could act she snapped away the wife.

“You people are always shoot first and answers later.” She stood us to her full height, barely coming to the middle of my chest before swinging around to face Dean.

“MOVE” she shoves past my brother and i have to hide a laugh

“Wait! We don't know what's in there.” I try to stop her but she's already opening the doors before either of us can stop her.

“Ugh. Just stand still and I do everything. hunters…”

What must be the farmers son is standing in the middle of the loft above us cocky smile and black eyes.

"I didnt think you were real little one"

#writing #spn #spnfandom #spnfamily #firstfic #first time #first

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yourfandomfriend · 6 years

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Family Friendly B-Words

Halloween is on the way, so I thought I'd post a little festive meta. Boo!

** SPOILERS** FOR BEETLEJUICE ** SPOILERS **

Hey, when was the last time you actually watched Beetlejuice?

( Dammit, I'm already two down.)

Watched that movie? Like from start to finish? Do you rent it, own it, or just catch it on TV once a year? Do you pay attention or just have it on in the background while you're doing something else? You don't really hear people talk much about the messages of the film because, well, we mostly watch it for the set pieces and don't really notice to the stuff in between. What's there to notice? We all know it backwards and forwards.

We have the afterlife visit, the possession scene, all the riffing from B... uh, You-Know-Who. The exorcism/wedding, and the happy ending. But mostly, we tune out the rest like it's filler. So what's it all about? (Apart from the obvious.)

Well, let's begin with the beginning.

At the top of the first act, Barbara and Adam Maitland were a seemingly happy young couple of rubes who ran the hardware store in a small, sleepy town in Connecticut called Winter River. They decided to take a staycation (I died a little typing that word. That's Halloweenie, right?) and spend some quality time on their hobbies -- Barbara redecorating the house and Adam building his model town. An annoying realtor showed up and it's implied she'd been there many times before, always trying to badger and bribe the Maitlands into selling their big, beautiful farmhouse. Naturally, the Maitlands are annoyed by this but there was something else to it that upset them. Something I'll get to in a minute.

Oh well. They dead now.

After dying in a surprisingly whimsical accident involving what I'm sure is a very good boy, their house is sold to some different people. Very different.

There's Charles Deetz, a real estate agent who seems to be recovering from a nervous breakdown. He seems nice enough, but scratch the surface and you find a greedy, self-absorbed man with zero scruples and the stunning ability to disassociate at will. He uprooted his family from New York so he could recover his zen but spends his downtime quietly scheming to buy the entire town.

Then there's the likeliest suspect for why Charles' nerves are shot: his current wife, Delia. She's an aggressive, theatrical, superficial, trend-obsessed, domineering nutcase. She spends her husband's money with abandon to impress her ridiculous friends while bitterly steamrolling past or over anyone who stands in the way of her upward mobility, including her family.

These people are the secondary antagonists of the film. They're not evil or anything, but they start the action -- Charles by buying the house and Delia by gutting it and turning it into a crazy artistic statement. But they bring with them the secondary protagonist, daughter Lydia.

Lydia Deetz is plum famous now, the poster child for emo goths everywhere. Dour, sarcastic, melodramatic, obsessed with death. The movie gives her a stereotypical yet sympathetic reason for all this. She's terribly lonely. Neglected by her parents and aggrivated by their urban shenanigans, she craves the emotional connection and stability of a decent family.

When she meets the Maitlands, it's like a whole different world for her. They're sane, affectionate people in a functioning relationship, maybe a little kooky but nothing that would set you back on your heels. They don't seem to be ambitious but they're dedicated to keeping their little home together, even if that means scaring the Deetzs half to death.

Unfortunately for them, they're terrible ghosts. They haven't figured out how to become visible, they're nowhere near as scary as the mortals they're trying to get rid of, and they've become fast friends with Lydia. They want her to stay and it starts to really tear them up. That's the sneaky part.

The biggest reason the Maitlands are so unhappy in the afterlife isn't the crazy people ruining their house or You-Know-Who causing devastation. The great tragedy of their deaths is the unfinished business of their lives: they wanted children but couldn't have them. And now they never will.

Once all the craziness is over, the Maitlands are more than happy to share their home with the Deetzs, and Lydia seems to be thriving with her new extended family. Adam and Barbara encourage her in school and entertain her with poltergeist-y fun. In turn, she's their connection to the living world, buying them supplies to redecorate the house and taking pictures of the parts of town they'll never get to see again. But most importantly, they pay attention to her and she pays attention to them. It's a lovely, nurturing, symbiotic relationship. A model family. And all it took was...

...a bio-exorcist.

That guy, Whats-His-Name, is the nastiest mofo in this life and the next. It's hard to tell if he's really even a ghost. He seems far too powerful, obviously malevolent, he comes from somewhere way underground, he's insinuated to be hundreds of years old, and you can summon him using his name. A suspicious person might call him a demon. Of course, I've met some nasty people in my day, so it's not impossible that he's just a dick who choked on a biscuit.

Still, he's a scourge on everything good, not just the living but also the dead, and comes to the story in bad faith, trying his damnedest to trick anyone who'll listen into not only setting him free from wherever he’s been bound but in helping him cross over to the land of the living for good. He's so awful, he teaches the Maitlands and the Deetzs that there are worse things in life (and death) than being stuck in a house you don't like with people who don't agree with you.

Feels more like a Thanksgiving message than Halloween. If only Beetlejuice c-.

DAMMIT!

#beetlejuice #meta #HOME HOME HOME #aw crap it's not working

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violetsystems · 3 years

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#personal

I write here sometimes because it’s incredibly satisfying to be understood. Some people take pictures. I took pictures for years. For a time I really believed that what I was doing was connecting with the world. I traveled all over. Spent weeks at a time in Asia by myself just wandering. I shared it with ghostly friends and attachments. I had understood it to be a precursor to a real connection. That I was putting out this information on the internet to connect with someone. Much like I had tried to make it in the music scene at one time to find likeminded people. The one thing I’ve learned through failure is it doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. It may just be from repetition that I’ve become more talented writing about the things I see and feel. I’m never good enough at anything to be recognized or treated with some value in the real world. I’ve had some of the same cryptic names cycle through my dash for years. I’d argue sometimes that media here isn’t very social. It’s rather communal. A shared almost secret history of memes, idols, art and music. You never have to clarify much. Something here is cringe to one person and high art to others. There’s this silent understanding that we’re all trying to move closer to what moves us. We’re adrift in hidden connections plugged together like a Rhizome. It’s all romantic shit if you grew up reading Gibson playing pen and paper Cyberpunk with a bunch of nerds. But the world gets harder and harder to plug back into outside these delicate ebbs and flows of information. I never really spent much time on Usenet back in the day other than to dig for mp3′s. I grew up running Bulletin Board systems with my mother. I was always writing. I almost got expelled from a Christian High School for publishing a zine. Some younger kids on my bus got a hold of it and claimed it was Satanic. Half of the zine was about illustrations from people I met in real life. Most of them were reminiscent of Pushead. Very gory skate graphics. The guy who drew them also designed flyers for punk bands. Decades later I don’t really think there’s much difference between Tumblr and Zine culture. Of all the things you’d have to wear the badge from high school, nobody really empathizes that I have become the patron saint of zine culture. Of all the shit people could talk about me over the years. He was a jungle dj. Oh he was a footwork dj. He was a white rapper. He tried to skate but my friends are better than him. He tried to make his own shirts. I sold a lot of those here on Tumblr. More so than knowing anyone in real life. People get the impression I’m a lot of things. I’m that guy you see helping the lady in the wheelchair in the grocery store find help. This happened yesterday. The woman thought I worked there. There was an awkward sign on the door looking for a security guard for hire. I spoke with the deli and got someone to assist. For some reason everyone made the mistake of labeling me as a graffiti artist for years. The police didn’t help. I’ve had varying degrees of mistaken identity and my share of surveillance. But I’ve never done anything other than run an apartment gallery for street art. I was in the walk thru for an outside atm yesterday. There was an angry white man scrubbing off some purple tags with some orange zep. I joked and said “get the led out! He didn’t think it was funny. He replied the people who lived in this neighborhood should do something about this. I replied I lived here and there’s not much you can do. He scolded me saying Chase could remove the atms as punishment. He didn’t work for chase. I told him I was more of a JP Morgan kind of guy. Everybody on the internet thinks I’m the next roaring kitty but doesn’t want to admit it. Or is that the other way around. One thing I’m for certain. I’ve been a lot of things and someone always tries to outdo me at being me.

I write here to parse the reality that nobody keeps score. I keep track of my finances often. For some reason, I’m doing about the best fiscally I’ve ever done just waiting for Godot. I spoke with my dad last night about things. I’ve had four packages go missing since mid April. I’ve had people follow me around and give me weird looks. I’ve had my locks tampered with. I’ve had consistent fraudulent charges I’ve had to contend with. It never ends. It’s like a literal nightmare shit show outside the door at every moment. I write here about it to simply let people know I do not think any of it is normal. And generally, I start to believe that it never was. I don’t drink anymore. I don’t really have a problem with people who do. But when people overdo it they forget how far they cross the line. My biggest fear for this summer is the yolo effect. That people will be so frustrated with being held back that they will use this summer as their ultimate party bus. The shoe will be on the other foot. If you wear a mask you are crazy to them. Everyone will have the chance to speak their mind in public now. They’ve been practicing on Facebook for fifteen months to tell you off. Sometimes I feel like there’s a whole generation of people who think they stan me here. Who go out into the wild and whisper what they think they’ve learned through reading comprehension about me. I relish this. Sort of like how Zizek talks of surveillance. Let the dogs and the secret police learn something I say! And you put it out there on the internet in any fashion and they will learn. Often not in the way you want them to. Which is why as a writer, obfuscation is the biggest weapon you have against nosy neighbors and pinkerton spies. If I am even a writer at all. This kind of activity just like my music isn’t considered anything of a skill. There are a lot of people out there who can’t even reply in an email on LinkedIn with the spell check on. If I have all these skills. If I have all these things I’ve been. Why am I in this situation particularly? Why hasn’t anyone noticed how badly it is I am suffering on the inside? Technically I’m not suffering as near as I was a year ago. I’m out of debt. I’ve gotten rid of a lot of excess baggage. I’ve kept healthy by working out in my home. I’ve adjusted to the reality that nobody ever gets it but me. I’ve plugged myself into investments that I took the full risk on. I’ve literally crawled from the ashes of a situation meant to break me. And my consolation prize is that nobody ever. And I mean EVER. Talks. About it. What happened to me. How fucking horrible it is. How fucking wrong it all is. All the way back to when I first started trying to be recognized as me. To be valued. I have to stop myself there. I write here often and I feel to a certain group of dear friends it is valued. That my context is understood a little more deeply than “maybe we can use this guy.” I’ve been used on levels that would make you vomit in public. And I’ve been gaslighted enough to know that there’s no use in trying to prove it. I’m supposed to move on and understand the rules. There are no rules out here. There’s a semblance of order when people stand in front of cameras or their zoom mic. When they’re shouting from their “platform” to change the world. Nobody ever talks. Nobody really listens. And for that I feel we’re all growing tired of a world that simply shouts out it’s demands. I wake up to the same reality every morning. Nobody texts. Nobody invites me out to socialize. Everybody has something to say to me and it’s never “How are you doing?” None of it really matters to me from simple statistical observation. If I haven’t changed your mind by now, you don’t really want to know what I’m thinking.

When you get stuck. And who knows if you will. But when you get stuck like me. It takes a lot of positivity to stay focused. I go out and try to do things often. But people will spoil that solitude with some bullshit excuse like “This is America. I’m free to do what I want when I want.” At the expense of others. And out here, I’d love to tell you how I survive when nothing changes. I stay out of the way. I am so fucking disassociated from this place that it feels evil. I’ve been in this city over two decades. You would think a person like me would have some kind of culture other than being hunted and tested every turn. Who knows who the ring leader is anymore. People read what I write and then take it their own way. Nobody really cares for my well being out here. That’s self love talking. And I am being real. People have manipulated my entire life and put my safety at risk for the sake of some sort of performance. Some of that is just life. Some of that I accept because it’s the way this lane operates. But nowhere in this journey have I sacrificed my authenticity for some big payoff. I don’t even know what the fuck is going on with people anymore. It is okay to remove yourself from a series of toxic situations. It is okay to reset. It is okay to understand that the pandemic might have reset everything for you back to square one. It is okay to let go of social obligations that never valued you as a person. It is okay to keep wearing a mask. It is okay to say no. It is okay to walk away from a disrespectful situation and rely on yourself. It is also hard as fuck in practice. If anyone can learn anything from me it is that you literally are asking for it. The old fuck around and find out. Except I’ve found out a lot more than just how charming I can be to the right person by being thoughtful and consistent. I’ve learned the FOMO of trying to participate in a pyramid is not the kind of leverage I’m interested in. I’ve learned that debt rhymes with net. I’ve learned how to keep that somewhat stable in one of the most fucked up economic shitstorms in America. I’ve learned I’m not eligible for the things people assume I’m on. Like unemployment. I’ve learned health insurance costs as much as my rent. Which is a great deal on rent. I’ve learned that making hamburgers and freezing them are delicious. But even then you’d have to pay me more than fifteen dollars an hour. I’ve learned this entire thing is my fault. And I’ve written about it for years. And yet nobody seems to want to have a conversation about it. They just keep on assuming. People are sleepwalking out there. Some people are really good at faking it. But then you follow their lead and end up in the same laugh out loud shit show. When you get stuck, it’s best to count your blessings. At least people might somewhere understand why I do the things that I do. Why I think it’s completely futile to try to do anything drastic when everything always fails. Why I’ve given up on believing that people have my best interest at heart in a city that’s ignored me for over a year. I write to keep a clear narration of how I’m trying to tackle a problem far bigger than me. I deal with it by staying out of the way. Out of sight. Trapped in a corner shack lighthouse in a highly accessible city. With no end of people trying to access me. To chip on through. I wonder if you got to the center of all this. If you really solved the mystery. I wonder if you’d finally break down and cry. That you’ve been wrong about me for this long. There’s no mystery to solve about me other than why I keep writing on a dead platform. And why the general public secretly pays so much attention to every word I type. I don’t really “wonder” anymore. I just know. <3 Tim

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marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer · 6 years

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MTVS Epic Rewatch #179

BTVS 7x01 Lessons

Raise your hand if you never thought I’d make it to season 7!

Shame on you, Wallace, I thought you’d always have my back!

Stray thoughts

1) Except for Welcome to the Hellmouth/The Harvest, I’m of the opinion that this show always delivered lackluster season openers. It’s not that they’re bad per se – most of them are pretty solid episodes. It’s just that they don’t hold a lot of promise for things to come, you know? And while they do tend to set the tone for the rest of the season, they are usually far from stellar. “Lessons” is no exception. It’s a good episode, with some very nice moments and a very promising ending (oh, the promise of what The First could be was definitely captivating!) But a good ending does not make for a great episode, you know? And now I get to another point I wanted to make. “Lessons” is probably one of the weakest episodes in an otherwise pretty balanced, quality-wise, season. Yes, I said it. Season 7 is not bad. In fact, it’s rather good? (cue gasps!)

Season 7 is flawed alright, but so are all the other seasons. I think that what probably bugs most of us is the fact that this season’s flaws are more noticeable, kind of always there, and, in most cases, extremely grating (The First, the focus on the potentials, the wedge between the Scoobies…) But – and I hope I don’t change my mind as I proceed to rewatch it – season 7 is an overall good season, with its hits and misses. I’ve found that I’ve grown to like it more and more with each rewatch.

2) The first scene in the cold open is an interesting change of pace from the usual way most seasons start. First of all, there are no Scoobies in sight and we are nowhere near Sunnydale. Then there’s the fact that the chase scene is very suspenseful. We don’t know who this girl is, but you can’t help to root for her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t make it. But it’s clear whatever went down will have some relevance. And it’s all made clearer when the scene cuts right to…

It’s hard to miss the connection when you get such a tension-filled scene leading to our main character delivering the very first line in the season, a line that will basically embody the backbone of the whole season.

4) I love the fact that Buffy has kept her promise to show Dawn the world.

BUFFY Never forget it. Doesn't matter how well prepped you are or how well armed you are. You're a little girl. DAWN Woman.

BUFFY Little woman.

DAWN I'm taller than you.

6) Why would this recently born vamp be afraid of the Slayer, though? How would he know what a Slayer is? (remember how Spike didn’t know about her for a while after being turned?)

7) I love the fact that Dawn missed the heart just like Buffy did her first time. Like mother, like daughter.

8) Where this super-sized scissors store, though?

Oh, yeah, also, Sunnydale High is back, btw. Get it? Because this season is about going back to the beginning… *rolls eyes*

9) Giles needs to stop getting cooler and cooler.

This was also a very gratuitous shot just so that Anthony could show off his horse-riding skills. And I’m very grateful.

10)

GILES Then why aren't you in your lesson?

WILLOW Sorry.

GILES It's alright. She was just—

WILLOW —afraid. Yeah, they all are. The coven is—they're the most amazing women I've ever met. But there's this look that they get. Like I'm gonna turn them all into bangers and mash, or something. Which I'm not even really sure what that is.

Can you really blame them, though? She literally almost ended the world. You can’t hold it against others if they don’t exactly feel like hanging.

11)

GILES This isn't a hobby or an addiction. It's inside you now, this magic. You're responsible for it. (I guess we’ll just cross out all of season 6, then...)

WILLOW Will they always be afraid of me?

GILES Maybe. Can you handle it?

WILLOW I deserve a lot worse. I killed people, Giles. (like, I get that you’re a main character, but you should be in jail, like Faith is...)

GILES I've not forgotten.

WILLOW When you brought me here, I thought it was to kill me or to lock me in some mystical dungeon for all eternity or—with the torture. Instead, you go all Dumbledore on me. I'm learning about magic. All about energy and Gaia and root systems.

I repeat, Giles: too little, too late. THIS MAKES ME SO ANGRY! Please tell me ONE good reason why he couldn’t have done this BEFORE Willow got the Extreme Makeover from Hell and went on a killing spree.

12) “I want to be Willow.” Even though it’s a bit hard – at least for me – to sympathize with Willow at this point, my heart literally melts at Alyson’s delivery of this line and the heartbreaking expression on her face. Alyson is such a great crier.

13)

XANDER I ate. I'm good. How are you?

BUFFY My sister's about to go to the same high school that tried to kill me for three years. I can't change districts, I can't afford private school, and I can't begin to prepare for what could possibly come out of there. So, peachy with a side of keen, that would be me.

14) I do enjoy how domestic Buffy and Xander are with Dawn. Like, yeah, Dawn has a bunch of parents and she deserves it.

15) You gotta love all the callbacks to early seasons, though.

BUFFY Now, remember, if you see anything strange... or, you know...dead.

DAWN I got it

BUFFY And stay away from hyena people, or any lizard-type athletes, you know, or if you see anyone that's invisible.

16)

Now, isn’t this something that would’ve been cool for the show to explore? Like, isn’t this something that should haunt Buffy? All the lives she couldn’t save? All the people she failed?

17) Dawn’s intro is so early 2000s it hurts…

DAWN I love to dance. I like music. I'm very into Britney Spears' early work, before she sold out. So mostly her, um, finger painting and macaroni art. Very underrated.

And… do you think Joss was taking a jab at Britney because they couldn’t arrange for her to be on the show in season 5? In which case, how dare you judged Britney?

18) So… Anya is not that into vengeance anymore. I guess spending a few years as a human and fighting the good fight really did put things into perspective. And apparently, this was their attempt at giving Anya her own arc? Unfortunately, it won’t last long.

19) So why do you think the spirits or demons were targeting Dawn and Buffy specifically? I mean, other than because of Contrived Plot Device. I get Buffy: she’d touched the talisman thingy or whatnot. But what about Dawn…?

20) I do love how Buffy’s conversation with Wood is intercut with Dawn meeting Kit and them getting sucked into the basement by the manifestations. There’s something off about Robin, and we can just sense it as much as Buffy does. I didn’t think he’d be evil, though, it would’ve been too on the nose if he had been. But we immediately get the feeling he’s hiding something. There’s just something about his word choice and his fixation on Buffy that raises a lot of red flags. And of course, the fact that he’s questioning Buffy while her sister and her friends are under attack kind of paints him as supect número uno.

21) And the great reveal… Dawn’s gift/weapon…

That was a bit underwhelming, especially considering it was 2002 and cellphones were already a household item. I get that the show was kind of making fun of itself and its lack of technology awareness. But I find the joke counterproductive. Instead of making me go “Oh hahaha, they have cell phones now!”, it reminds me how little sense it makes for these teens – now young adults – to have NEVER EVER used any type of electronic devices or technology other than the computer. It feels, again, as a Contrived Plot Device. Technology, in some cases, would’ve made the Scoobies lives much easier. They definitely would’ve have avoided some misunderstandings and miscommunications.

22) And then…

23)

BUFFY What did you do?

SPIKE I tried... I... tried to cut it out.

Hm. I wonder what this “it” might be... huh.

24) We can safely say that Joss’s primary focus when writing this scene was Spike, right? Did he even remember the last time Buffy had been in a room with Spike he’d tried to rape her? Why wasn’t her reaction to seeing her would-be-rapist again explored? Why wasn’t that the focus of their reunion? Why have her acting so nonchalantly, as if she wants to pick up things where they left them off (that is, prior to Seeing Red, of course…)? She literally asks him if he’ll come help her...

25) Now, why didn’t we get to see more of these two – the punk/bohemian, and, I’m assuming, bisexual, girl and the troubled yet sweet latino boy – instead of introducing like a dozen new characters – most of which were pretty forgettable - almost halfway through the season when the focus should’ve been placed somewhere else?

26) At least Buffy got a new job out of it. But let’s be real, the only reason she got the job is that she is a fictional character in a fictional world. Like, Joss tries to play it off as “oh, she only got it because it is a crappy position with very low pay.” But even crappy positions at schools require some kind of qualifications. Working at the Doublemeat Palace? Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it.

27) And then the scene that nearly makes the episode…

WARREN Of course she won't understand, Sparky. I'm beyond her understanding. She's a girl. Sugar and spice and everything...useless unless you're baking. I'm more than that. More than flesh...

GLORY ...more than blood. I'm... you know, I honestly don't think there's a human word fabulous enough for me. Oh, my name will be on everyone's lips, assuming their lips haven't been torn off. But not just yet. That's alright, though..

ADAM ...I can be patient. Everything is well within parameters. She's exactly where I want her to be. And so are you, Number 17. You're right where you belong.

THE MAYOR So what'd you think? You'd get your soul back and everything'd be Jim Dandy? Soul's slipperier than a greased weasel. Why do you think I sold mine? (laughs) Well, you probably thought that you'd be your own man, and I respect that, but...

DRUSILLA ...you never will. You'll always be mine. You'll always be in the dark with me, singing our little songs. You like our little songs, don't you? You've always liked them, right from the beginning. And that's where we're going...

THE MASTER ...right back to the beginning. Not the Bang... not the Word... the true beginning. The next few months are going to be quite a ride. And I think we're all going to learn something about ourselves in the process. You'll learn you're a pathetic schmuck, if it hasn't sunk in already. Look at you. Trying to do what's right, just like her. You still don't get it. It's not about right, not about wrong...

There was so much promise in this scene, and it’s beautifully written and masterfully crafted. I think it’s probably one of the most memorable scenes in the show, just because of its jaw-dropping wow factor, the questions it raised, its potential for epic greatness, and the impact of seeing such an iconic group of characters blending together in what promised to be the Biggest Motherfucking Bid Bad Ever. And the biggest question of all…if this thing, whatever it is, is turning into all the Big Bads... then why did he turn into Buffy?

The answer to this question will be, as most things The First related were bound to be, extremely underwhelming. But imagine... imagine if Buffy had been the Big Bad...

28) Oh, just for funsies, I’ll try and keep count of how many times The First did touch something or someone:

29) You gotta love the book ends in this episode, though…

#Buffy the Vampire Slayer #BTVS #Buffy Summers #Sarah Michelle Gellar #Spike #Willow Rosenberg #Dawn Summers #Lessons #recap #mine #MTVSepicrewatch #BTVSrewatch2015 #btvsrecap

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bipolarblatherings · 4 years

Text

Wound me once, shame on you. Wound me 30 times, shame on both of us.

This is all a giant mess.

I find myself amidst a saddening, tortured, infuriating, ridiculous dance of (semi)conflict with a very close friend of mine. She (let’s call her B) is ungodly intelligent and very well-versed in things of the psychiatric nature. I’m a fantastic match for her in almost every way. B has bipolar II. I have bipolar I. We have had many mind-blowing conversations. I haven’t met someone as intelligent and cunning since looking in the mirror. But oh, she sure qualifies.

She twists knives. I hold punches. Stupid, stupid me.

I should provide some background. I’m obsessing about it, so it’s absolutely been eating me for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but I can’t fault you all for ignorance if I don’t do diligence.

Ahem.

B and I have been friends for, well... over 5 years now. My friendship with her (hold your laughter) started in an outpatient DBT therapy group. We were instantly drawn to each other. I apparently had equated something I was sharing about in group to “rolling a nat 1.” I don’t remember saying this, but this is pretty on-brand for me. Nerd alert! She was sold.

I started playing in a DnD campaign with them in a fairly local gaming store. We would go out for cigarettes and dish about whatever - she and her husband and I, and occasionally others. We bonded. We joked. We shared intellectual nuggets about life, the universe and everything. We pondered serious mental health issues and tried to meet in the middle somewhere between bipolars I and II. Another joke we consistently went back to was me telling her “I don’t know how you do it! I’d get whiplash!” and her countering back, “I don’t know how YOU do it!”

It’s true. Cursed as I may be, I don’t think I’d opt for the other side of this coin.

Anywho.

Fast forward through my marriage (to some guy) and a separation which is not a yet a legal divorce because he feels badly for me in that I wouldn’t have health insurance, and we would lack the tax breaks of filing jointly, what with me in my 10th year of college...

B and her husband - let’s call him S - were with me through all of that and then some. Supportive, helpful, welcoming. When she suggested that maybe I should join them in a “thrupple” as their “unicorn,” pansexual, polyamorous, manic me was all in.

I’m sure it’s no surprise that this went fairly sideways quickly. B and I were, by far, farther along than S and I probably would ever be. There was awkwardness. There was unbalance. There was a solidly manic bipolar human (me) who incidentally fed her hypomania into excess (she). We are both very self-aware in general. I do not know that I trust her to be able to walk away from triggering on purpose. It’s the best worst superpower ever. It’s a drug. It’s tantalizing and dangerous. I should know. I’m high on it practically all the time...

Fast forward again.

B and I had a talk the other day after a fairly long and very uncomfortable near-silence. Our last exchange had been awful, and instead of lashing out, I’d gone home and injured myself. Crisis crisis crisisss! We had come to a better place of understanding and calm, and had sensibly addressed it - for about 4.5 straight hours. I’d felt so much better. Vindicated. Validated. I’d really broken through and I was able to show her vulnerability (stupid, stupid me). I told her about what had happened after I’d left the last time. B has seen me naked, in more ways than one.

Within this conversation, we admitted to each other that the idea of a “thrupple” was, although amazing, absolutely poorly executed in terms of timing and pacing. You take a husband - interested and with good intentions, but very much along for the ride, I expect - and his wife with bipolar II, and then throw in a very heavy pile of this bitch with bipolar I and ... PARTY. Except, duh. This poor guy now has his hands full with two crisis-happy, mostly-manic women.

OH. AND YOU ALSO HAVE TWO CRISIS-HAPPY, MOSTLY-MANIC WOMEN. And they are depending on each other, crying to each other and fucking each other.

After her admission and going over the Ps and Qs of everything, she’d confided that she and he had been looking online for a better fit for “unicorn.” Far from being upset, my free-loving self told her earnestly that I was happy for them: go get it, girl! B had also proffered a potential less-high-stakes hookup situation for she and he and I that would be “casual.” That word was thrown around a lot. FWB.

I’d also had a boy on my mind. (I say boy because I don’t want to invest too much in giving a fuck - more on that later - he is, in fact, a man.) I had honestly advised her that I didn’t know what to do about him. That he was tripping me up, as normally I can figure people out in a snap. I have a penchant for frustrating projects; they challenge me and hold my interest. She vibrantly encouraged me to pursue him.

When he asked me out on a date several days later - even amidst this COVID business - her words echoed in my head and I felt good about accepting. I was happy and I felt I had her support. I messaged her the news joyfully, and without hesitation.

[I regret nothing about that date night itself. That bit is really fucking complicated. It deserves its own post.]

Fast forward again. Some very good friends from out of state were flying in to visit. I, super duper manic, lost track of days. When B messaged me seemingly in a panic asking for me to immediately bring over our friend’s dog’s crate, I messaged back hastily that I wished someone had let me know (rather than spring it on me last-minute.) I was thrown off. Her message out of seemingly nowhere seemed direct and cold.

I messaged her back and let her know I would be over with the crate as soon as possible. I was tripping over myself. My INFP-A manic brain and my empathic nature were having a lot of trouble. She was not herself. She was really pissed. Or something.

I didn’t have to wonder long. After I’d asked her to text my phone directly, she threw out this (very nearly verbatim):

______________________________________________________________

Oh, I get it. You don’t hang out with anyone you aren’t dating or fucking, right?

______________________________________________________________

I was stunned. WHOA. I literally said, “Whoa,” with no real follow-up. I was flabbergasted. Cut deeply. Bleeding. Did our conversation a few days prior mean absolutely NOTHING???? And I’d just seen them! Just those few days had passed. What had I done that was so egregious, except follow her advice to me? I floundered. “Whoa... Not true. Ouch.”

Not an ounce of caring or apology. Hard-line held.

By the time I’d gotten over there with the dog crate, I’d been informed to text S directly to ask him to come out and get it from me. I did so, and made the exchange shaking and unable to look him in the eyes. I did a lot of mumbling but I remember saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why, but I’m real fucking sorry.”

To which he replied: “I don’t know. Me too.”

Effectively when I gave him the dog crate and he gave me my last box of shit from my time over there, there remained no ties. No reason for them to come here, and no reason for me to come there as all of the ephemera was in its correct place.

The days following have been fairly awful. Last night I was encouraged by a friend to feel okay to join the online DnD game that B plays in and S runs. I panicked for the entirety of the time that it took them to get started. We were an hour and a half past normal start. My friend - we’ll call him C - was EXCEPTIONALLY amazing, helpful and calming. It would be alright. He was there. It wasn’t just me and her. There were other people to balance everything out. It would likely be a safe place.

And it was. It had echoes of normalcy. It’s the only real interaction I’ve had with our out-of-state friends, as they were all four on the same mic, in S&B’s living room. I’d been there so many times, it echoed naturally in my mind. False sense of security?

I’d sent her a message stating my surface-level feels about the situation several days ago, to which I’d not gotten a response until after I left the DnD session a little early (as I was falling asleep). I tire of explaining so I’ll let our words - as already written - finish this out.

_____________________________________________________________

Me: I'm just going to leave this here, as I do not want to/am not ready to truly talk about it, and you've got company and other things going on. I feel it was unfair of you to come at me like that. I know you have feelings too, but I can only be sensitive to what I'm aware of. I only really took *the boy* up on it when he asked me out because although I wasn't sure I wanted to pursue anything at all, I felt that you were encouraging and supportive of it and I kind of felt like, "hey, who knows? I might just give it a try."

I'd absolutely be lying by omission if I just said nothing about it.

And I'd be pretending that I'm not deeply wounded. That is all.

B: I'm sorry for the late response to this, but I was not feeling that I was in a place where I could effectively communicate with you on this topic. I still do not feel I am ready to do so, but for the sake of E and J being in town, I would like for everyone to feel comfortable, and I know seeing E is very important to you. They would both like to see you very much as well, and for their sake I want to be concise in that I want them to feel like they can feel comfortable visiting with you, or even you coming here to visit with them however you feel most comfortable.

While I don't quite feel like discussing this issue yet, I bear no ill will at all so coming here would be just as relaxed as if we were to come with them to visit you. I've tried to keep everything as low-key as possible (basically just not mentioning anything :P) so that E would not feel uncomfortable or like she has to choose or something silly like that, and even moving forward no matter what happens I would never want her to feel that way at any point, and I definitely know that's not your style either, but I feel it is a huge priority for me to not alter any other relationships no matter what happens, because I think people only get hurt that way. (Although I don't think I even need to say this at all, but I wanted to include it for the sake of concise and effective communication which I know will be beneficial for all three of us moving forward)

For now I am enjoying our company and keeping myself focused and balanced. If you want to try to sort out the conflict here, feel free to let me know when you are in a place of caring and compassion and even-tempered mindset, and when Anthony and I are also in that place we can certainly approach the obstacle with problem-solving as a focus and repairing our communications.

Stay safe, and keep working towards being healthy, as I know you've been trying very hard to do so to good effect - Hope all is well xoxo

Me: Thank you. I'm not ready to talk about it either. I appreciate your honesty.

In regard to E&J: I've been very discouraged because neither they nor you reached out to me at all once they got here (with any indication of plans whatsoever to see me). Whether or not this is the case, it was my perception that I was being avoided and ignored. And that sucks when you (ubiquitous you - and awful English, but whatever) look around your apartment and see your friend's things everywhere, but feel like nobody wants to see you.

I apologize if this comes across as abrasive. That is absolutely not intended.

I need to communicate that it might be a fairly long time before I can discuss the issue at hand. Especially with all of these dysmorphic days and the fact that I am anywhere from almost done with my manic run to just beginning (dear god I hope not), I am not brave nor strong enough to work through it. I have to protect myself from hurt or I am actually in fear that it may tear me apart. It has absolutely the possibility to be fatal.

I appreciate that you responded honestly and I feel you also deserve honesty. The above seems possibly to reflect a flair for dramatics, but as they say in the city, I'm dead-ass.

I do, as always, also hope you are well. Xoxo

______________________________________________________________

(Fuck me, right in the feels.)

#interpersonal communication #mania #manic #dysmorphic mania

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alexandralyman · 7 years

Text

Fic Update: Between Heaven and Hell

Summary: A Hook/Emma angel/demon AU. They hide in plain sight, the servants of heaven and hell. The angels and the demons, who can save your soul or damn it. They stand on opposite sides, they are the bringers of light and the agents of darkness, they are enemies in an eternal war, but what happens when an angel and a demon are inexplicably drawn to each other?

Read this chapter on ff.net here and on AO3 here

Part Twenty

Something was about to go down.

Something big.

Something soon.

Will could sense it, the way he'd always been able to tell the exact moment when he had to ditch a boosted ride before the plates were broadcasted to every police cruiser in the city, or noticed Loss Prevention discreetly following him around in a store and watching to see if he was going to try to slip something under his jacket and walk out without paying. He was good at it, always getting out just before the shit was about to hit the proverbial fan, no matter how much his teenage buddies used to protest when he pulled over in the stolen Merc or Mustang they were joyriding in and ordered them to all get out and scatter. Three of them got busted for Grand Theft Auto one night when Will was busy on a snatch-and-grab job for Hood, one was lucky, he was barely sixteen and got tried as a juvenile, but the other two...they got handed felony sentences and three years in the state pen.

His phone had been vibrating in his pocket during the whole ride from the Jolly Roger to Jones's condo but he didn't dare answer, not with the way Jones was staring out the tinted window, as still as a statue save for the drumming of his fingers on the empty leather seat next to him. He hadn't said a word after his curt order of "drive" and he stayed completely silent while Will parked in the plum spot reserved in the underground garage for the penthouse, exiting the SUV before Will even had the keys out of the ignition and making a beeline towards the elevator. Will watched him in the rearview mirror, the brake lights casting a red glow over Jones's face as he walked behind the car. His head turned and their eyes met for a brief moment, the red reflection going even brighter in his pupils and Will blinked at the weirdly distorted image. He had looked almost….inhuman, for a split-second, all red eyes and lips that curled in a sneer against a mouth as dark as a black hole. But then it was gone, and Will blinked again and rubbed his finger nervously over the key fob, feeling the raised lines and edges of the tiny logo press against his palm like an anchor to reality.

It must have just been a trick of the light.

Jones would expect him to follow, Will knew. Up the elevator to the penthouse condo that looked like it belonged in a magazine, beyond anything he'd ever even imagined and the symbol of everything he could possibly want. But his old instincts were making him hesitate, even though he knew men like Killian Jones were practically bulletproof. They had fancy lawyers who could wiggle them through every loophole, not like his old mates and the shitty public defenders they'd been stuck with. He couldn't picture Jones getting perp-walked out of the building in cuffs or spending even one night in city lockup, the only metal that would get snapped around his wrists were Swiss watches in platinum or gold and he spent his nights away from home with gorgeous women in five-star hotels. Whatever was going down, he'd probably come out of it smelling like a rose.

Will, on the other hand, would not be nearly so lucky.

He had no illusions about the man he currently worked for, the blue-eyed bastard was as cold as Hood, probably even more so. Everyone else around him would be expendable, so long as his own Armani-clad ass stayed out of the fire. But he knew things about Killian Jones, knew about one weakness in particular that he was sure the man didn't want exposed.

Emma Swan.

If he walked away now, got on his motorcycle with a backpack and got the hell out of Dodge...Jones might be too preoccupied with whatever it was to worry about one missing lackey. But he still had Ana and Lacey both firmly under his thumb and Will knew it would be too dangerous to try to contact either or both of them ever again if he left. Ana was a wet dream come to life, but classy too, the kind of girl who never even gave him the time of day back in high school...and Lacey, she was exactly the kind of girl he used to mess around with when he was seventeen, getting handjobs in the backseat of cars after ditching class and smoking cigarettes together after, and he didn't want to let either of them go and fuck, he was so, so screwed.

He could feel Jones's gaze flick over to him while they waited for the elevator but he stared straight ahead, not even pausing to let the boss enter first when the doors finally opened. They rode up in silence and it wasn't until they were inside the condo that Jones finally spoke.

"An old associate of mine will be coming to town tomorrow. Call him a competitor of sorts, someone who I suspect has been sticking his unwanted nose into my business and sniffing around."

Whatever Will had been expecting it wasn't that, and he felt himself frown, "Oh?"

The other man was behind him in the dark living room, his voice coming from over Will's left shoulder.

"I am a very private man, Scarlet, I do not tolerate any leaks in my organization. In this case loose lips don't just sink ships, anyone who even tries to sell me out will live to regret it. Are we clear on that?"

The veiled accusation was clear and Will swallowed hard, "Crystal. Sir."

"Good."

When Jones disappeared upstairs Will sat down heavily on the sofa and took a few deep breaths. Great, just great, his absolutely terrifying boss who could probably have him killed with one phone call thought he was a snitch, Hood was riding his ass about the job he'd promised to do and having two beautiful women fight over him was nowhere near as much fun as he'd thought it would be. Mostly he just felt guilty, all the time, guilty for the things he'd done for Jones, guilty for going back to Hood after he'd finally got away from that life, guilty for trying to make Ana jealous with Lacey and then realizing he had feelings for both of them. A nice heaping dose of Catholic guilt, as his Gran used to say.

He needed air and he chanced going out onto the terrace, sending out a silent prayer of thanks when the door opened without a sound. Even though he was in the middle of downtown it was fairly quiet, he was too high up for the traffic below to be more than a muffled hum in the background. The view was spectacular, the city laid out beneath him like he was king of the castle, but it all belonged to Jones, not to him. He had fucking everything and Will would bet a million bucks that he never felt the tiniest bit of guilt for any of it, the wads of cash, the cars, the women who practically fell over themselves to suck his dick. He was screwing both his own girlfriend and the wife of the man who'd probably be their next mayor, maybe even a senator or the governor too one day. Another rich asshole who'd had everything handed to him, while Will had spent almost his whole life fighting for scraps.

His phone went off again and he snatched it from his pocket, almost dropping it over the balcony in the process and swearing to himself as he looked at the call display, expecting to see Hood's number. He'd had to cut their conversation short earlier when Jones had come out of the club sooner than Will expected, much to Hood's obvious annoyance. But "LACEY" was flashing on the screen instead, along with a picture he'd snapped of her without her noticing. It wasn't like she was naked or anything, he wasn't that kind of guy with a camera roll full of nudes, but he still felt a little guilty for doing it.

"WILL! Finally, I've been calling and calling, trying to get a hold of you. What the fuck is going on?"

"Damned if I know," he replied, scrubbing a hand over his face, "Jones closed down the Jolly Roger until further notice."

"I know, but that's not all he did. Will, did you hear about Jack?"

It took him a moment to place the name, thinking she was talking about a guy at first. But then he remembered the bartender, the one who overcharged him for a shot when he'd first come to the Jolly Roger at Jones's invitation. He'd caught it at once, he knew that scam from clueless idiots who wandered into the Outlaw and got fleeced and her apology had only been half-hearted when she gave him back the correct change, though she'd quickly changed her tune when she realized he'd been invited to the club by the boss himself and comped his next drink.

"What about her?" he asked, confused.

"Mr. Jones dragged her into that storeroom that leads down into the basement and she didn't come back out! I asked around, no one saw her leave before Peter kicked us all out, he didn't even let me go back into the dressing room to get my other bag, the dick, I had to wait for a cab for almost an hour in fucking five-inch heels."

He felt himself frown, "The basement?"

That locked door flashed in his mind, the keypad entry taunting him. Without the code, there was no way in. He was sure Jones was hiding something down there, and now it looked like he was hiding someone. Wasn't that considered kidnapping? What could Jack have possibly done?

"Anyone who even tries to sell me out will live to regret it."

"You know something. Will, what is it? Tell me, please."

Lacey was fun and he liked her, liked her a lot, actually, but as silence stretched between them he realized he didn't trust her. Killian Jones was searching for a leak and he clearly suspected Will and probably Jack as well, he couldn't think of another reason why he'd zeroed in on her specifically out of all his employees. Maybe he was going to go back to the Jolly Roger now that it was empty and interrogate her...but what if she wasn't the one who had sold him out?

He knew next to nothing about Lacey, he didn't even know where she lived. She always wanted to come over to his place and brushed him off when he asked about her apartment, listened attentively while he bitched about Jones, usually naked and with her mouth wrapped around his dick. What if her interest in him had all been an act? He hadn't even questioned it, too distracted by making Ana jealous the way he was of all the men who flocked around her in the club by slipping off into the storerooms or the stairwells with Lacey. Once she even talked him into bringing her into Jones's office for a quickie on the couch when he was out, one place that was absolutely off-limits to the dancers without a direct invitation. Had she been playing him the whole time?

"Will?"

Her voice was soft, encouraging, and damn if he didn't want to spill his guts and tell her everything despite his sudden suspicion, tell her about Katie, underage and clearly scared shitless, tell her about Mark Preston coughing up blood in the parking lot the night the redheaded dancer had OD'd - Will wasn't stupid, he'd seen the needle and untied the tourniquet from her arm himself - tell her about Albert Spencer's cheating wife and the weirdo drug dealer named Jefferson out in suburbia hell, tell her about the room down in the basement with the lock he couldn't pick where Jack had been taken and about Emma Swan, a woman who claimed to know Killian Jones better than anyone and was the only one who he seemed to care about in return.

But that same instinct that had always told him when the joyride was over made him hesitate, the instinct that had saved his ass more times than he could count and almost without thinking his thumb moved to hover over the red button.

"Lacey, I have to go."

"No, wait-"

Her protest was cut off when he ended the call, hearing nothing but the whistle of the wind sweeping across the terrace. When the phone lit up again with her picture, bent over a pool table with cue in hand from that dive bar they had gone to, he immediately hit the decline button.

Ana didn't answer when he tried to call her, served him right, Will knew, so he sent her a text instead, "Lie low for a couple of days, OK? Don't go back to the club until you hear from me, not Peter, not anyone else, I don't think it's safe. Just trust me on this, please."

There was no response, but he could see the messages were delivered, at least. He didn't know if Ana would follow his instructions, but he hoped that he hadn't fucked things up between them so badly that she'd disregard them out of spite.

"I'm sorry."

He stared at the screen and hit send, it wasn't a diamond tennis bracelet or designer shoes, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

Another incoming call popped up but this one had no picture attached, just a name and Will felt his posture change as his hips pushed forward and his thumb sought out a belt loop to casually hook through. The cocky swagger of his old gang persona washed over him and he answered with a single word, "Hood."

Robin Locksley snorted on the other end, "Knave. So kind of you to spare me a few moments of your precious time. You've got some fucking balls on you, you little shit, I'll give you that. But now's the time to put them to the test. No more delays, we're hitting the warehouse tomorrow night. Are you in or are you out?"

Will stared down at the city below, a blur of colour and light against the darkness. Jones had said that this old associate of his was coming to town tomorrow and if he tried to duck out then there's no way that wouldn't raise suspicion, but if the situation got out of control then he might need the cash from Hood's job to get himself and Ana out of town and fast. Men like Jones didn't go down, except to those who were even more powerful, and guys like Will were always the ones who got caught in the crossfire. He'd figure out a way to make it work.

"I'm in."

"Good. I'll text you the meeting point. Don't be late or that smart mouth will be missing a few teeth."

Locksley hung up on him and Will felt his tattoo itch again under his shirt, reaching back to scratch at the permanent reminder of the old life even as his new one seemed to be crashing down around his ears. Jones was nowhere to be seen when he went back inside and he hadn't given Will any orders, so he was stuck cooling his heels without anything to do except imagine worst case scenarios for God knew how long.

The living room was larger than Will's entire apartment and he wandered about it aimlessly while he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar, he might as well be comfortable while he waited for his boss to come back and possibly murder him. The liquor bottles behind the bar beckoned and he wanted a drink more than the alcoholics in the park who begged for quarters and drank the cheapest, nastiest shit out of sheer desperation. Jones liked scotch the most, but he also drank other stuff too and the bar was as well-stocked as the Jolly Roger, with golden tequila, crystal-clear vodka and dark rum all on display, all brands that had to be special-ordered from glossy catalogues and certainly not sold in corner markets with bars on the windows and baseball bats behind the counter. Will didn't dare touch a drop of it, he was a thief but he wasn't that stupid. He would have loved breaking into a place like this when he was fifteen or sixteen though and seeing how the other half lived. Everything just dripped money, the furniture, the state of the art TV and sound system, the art. There wasn't a lot of it, but the boss had a few paintings and sculptures and things scattered around the condo. Will knew exactly two things about art, jack and shit, but at least it wasn't that modern crap that looked like a three year old had done it and yet sold for hundreds of thousands of dollars. There was a framed map of the Caribbean, yellowed and faded, clearly very old. Some of the names written over the islands were the same as they were today, Cuba, Jamaica, and some he had never heard of before, Saint-Domingue, the Danish West Indies, all written in faded brown letters that were spidery and difficult to read. Down the wall a few feet away hung a painting of a ship, an old-timey one with tall sails. It was well done, or, at least it was to his uncultured eyes, but if Killian Jones owned it then it had to be worth some serious coin. Waves crashed against the hull and the wind filled the sails under an indigo sky that was heavy with clouds. All the tiny little details must have taken hours upon hours to paint, the folds in the sails, the way the ropes looked wet from the spray in the air. There was a signature in the corner that he couldn't make out, the letters were too smudged, but the date underneath was clear, 1802. It obviously wasn't a reproduction, Will had seen enough fake handbags and knockoff sneakers in his life to have a pretty good idea of what was real and what wasn't.

Or at least, he used to.

"Scarlet."

Will nearly jumped right out of his skin, whirling around to see Jones standing right behind him. He had no idea how he hadn't heard him come back down the stairs, he really needed to get a grip on himself. The long nights at the Jolly Roger plus his stakeouts down at the warehouse to case the security and find a way in for Hood plus everything with Ana and Lacey were clearly taking a toll on him. He was drinking too much and not sleeping enough and he was seeing things that weren't there.

Jones's gaze drifted over his shoulder for a moment and he got a strange look on his face before his eyes snapped back to Will's.

"A sudden interest in art, I take it?"

The sarcasm was so thick Will could probably go ice skating on it and he kept his mouth shut, clearly, it was a rhetorical question.

"I've got a job for you. Take the Escalade and go back to the Prince Hotel. Talk to every last chambermaid and bellboy you can find and see if any of them saw this man there."

Will's vision was suddenly filled with a photograph that seemed to come from nowhere and he reached up automatically to take it, squinting at the image.

"You don't have anything better?"

As soon as the words left his mouth he cringed, looking up nervously at Jones over the top of the photo. But the boss actually looked amused for a moment, the dark brows raising and the faintest hint of a smile at the edge of his lips.

"Anything better?" he repeated, "You have no idea what it took to get this and you're asking if I have anything better? It's probably the only fucking photograph of him in existence, he's not exactly what you'd call the selfie type."

Will squinted harder at the picture, taking in the shoulder-length hair and the cane held in one of the man's hands, even though he didn't look that old. His gran had always refused to use her own cane, preferring to hold on to the edges of furniture and Will's arm to steady herself, slippered feet shuffling slowly and painfully across the worn carpet of their old apartment. The man in the picture was walking down a street, clearly unaware that he was being photographed. His face was completely out of focus, which was weird, other details were crisp and clear. Will could even read the license plate on a car parked next to the curb, a long string of letters and numbers that wouldn't be found on any plate in the US.

"What's his name?" Will asked, feeling a chill down his spine the more he looked at the man and tried to read his features.

If anything Jones looked even more amused by his second question even though Will had no idea why. If he was supposed to go track this guy down then he needed to know who the hell it was he was looking for.

"He's known by many names," Jones said, turning smoothly on his heel and making for the bar. He poured himself a drink, Will noted that he reached for one of the bottles of rum this time and not the scotch.

"A lot of aliases, huh?"

"Something like that."

The longer he looked at the picture the more Will wanted to look away but his eyes seemed to be glued to it. There was something familiar about the man and he racked his brain trying to think if he had ever seen him before.

"He won't be using his real name and I've no idea what moniker he's adopted now."

Jones threw back more rum like it was water and dipped into his pants pocket. He came up with a wad of rubber-banded bills that he threw at Will like a ninja throwing star, almost hitting him in the chest.

"Pay whatever it takes to get the info but be discreet about it, Scarlet. There's probably reporters all over the hotel by now sniffing around but it can't be helped, I need to know if he was there."

Reporters? Will blinked, that sense of impending doom tingling like pins and needles. Something was going down, that was for damn sure. A quick flick of his thumb through the bills showed him that the wad was full of fifties and hundreds, he was probably holding close to three grand.

Take the money and run.

It was as if a voice had spoken right in his ear. He was a thief, had been since he'd first started shoplifting at the age of ten. He could just pocket the cash and Jones would never know.

"Who is he?"

Will didn't even know why he was still talking, his big mouth had gotten his ass kicked plenty of times back in high school and he would have thought he'd learned when to shut up by now. The boss had his sleeves rolled to his elbows, jacket gone, looking the most...desperate, Will had ever seen him. It was a strange realization, he'd always seemed to have the upper hand with everyone, the cops he ordered around as if they were his own private security guards, the high rollers who suddenly couldn't make eye contact and acted like kids in the principal's office when Jones caught them breaking the rules in the club. Will had watched grown men actually cry and beg at his feet, men who were fucking CEOs and lawyers and even famous actors and athletes and he never once broke so much as a sweat. But now his shoulders were practically hunched to his ears and his hair fell messily over his forehead as he rolled the drink around in his hands and stared down into the glass.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to," he said after a moment, and while the warning was clear, there was no bite to the words this time.

It reminded Will of that day at the church when he'd run into Emma Swan after Mass, when he'd run his mouth at her like a dumbass and called her Jones's bit on the side.

"Do you want to know? Ask yourself that question, do you really want to know everything about Killian Jones?"

The man in the picture was the old associate Jones had mentioned, that was obvious. But there was something more going on here than just an ordinary turf war. He'd been through those before with Hood in the old days, and this just felt different. Will swallowed, holding the photo carefully by the edges. Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to.

"What does he want?"

The boss looked up, backlit against the lights behind him from the bar that illuminated the rows of liquor bottles, each one something rare and expensive. His face was a shadow, eyes glassy pools that on anyone else Will would have taken as a sign that he was getting drunk.

"That's the key, isn't it? What do people want. What drives them, what motivates them deep down inside. You came to work for me because you wanted more than the hand you were dealt in life and you were willing to do whatever it took to get it, isn't that right, Will Scarlet? Some people play by the rules and others cheat, cheat on their wives, their husbands, on their taxes."

Jones's voice was low, taking on a hint of that dangerous edge again and Will flinched at the reminder of all the things he had done, the lying, the stealing, always trying to game the system and get ahead. The cars he couldn't afford, the cash he didn't earn, always wanting more.

"What he wants doesn't matter, the only thing that matters is what I want. Because there is nothing I won't do to get what I want. Rules don't matter, not in this game. Not to me. I don't just know where you live, remember? Now get me what I need."

With that clear dismissal, he set the glass down on the bar and went out onto the balcony, the wind lifting his hair as he tilted his head back and stared up at the stars. Will slipped the wad of cash into his pocket and fumbled for the keys, feeling no pleasure at being able to drive the Escalade on his own without the boss watching his every movement over his shoulder. He should have bailed a long time ago but now he was in too deep.

What Killian Jones wanted, Killian Jones got. Will could only hope now that getting him that would be enough to save his own neck.

....

Tortola - British Virgin Islands, 1802

The building itself was rather nondescript - a somewhat slapdash assembly of half-brick, half-timber, already heavily weathered from the salt air and with a tarnished brass plaque by the door that was engraved "JONES SHIPPING LTD" in careless, uneven letters. Emma ran her gloved fingertip over the name and traced the grooves before squaring her shoulders and pushing the door open. A little bell hung above the lintel jangled, announcing her arrival as she stepped over the threshold and left the dusty street behind. The man behind the counter looked up at the noise and she saw his eyes narrow in appraisal as he quickly looked her up and down. She had a lace shawl draped modestly over her shoulders and carried a small parasol to shade her face from the strong Caribbean sun, as every respectable European woman on the island did. Her face was unpainted and she wore no jewellery, no pearl earbobs or abalone bracelets like the ones sold in the marketplace where the planters' wives and daughters and the naval officers on leave all came to shop for exotic tropical fruits, fresh palm oil and colourful woven textiles.

Among….other goods that were offered up for sale.

The man was rather stout, with a round bearded face beneath a red knit cap. Tortola had a more temperate climate and was not as hot as some of the other islands claimed in the names of foreign kings, Spanish, French and Dutch alike were all commonly spoken in the port towns alongside English and the patios of the native inhabitants and the Africans who worked the fields and harvested the new crops of sugarcane and plantains. But since it was the British flag that flew above the governor's whitewashed estate it was no surprise to hear an accent that wouldn't have been out of place in London's Southwark when he jerked his chin and asked, "Can I help you, Mistress?" while puffing out his chest under the rough woolen jacket he wore.

Evidently his perusal of her had been enough for him to decide that she might have legitimate business to discuss, even though a woman without an escort of any kind, no husband or servant to accompany her, was somewhat of a curiosity among the warehouses and offices that lined the road rising above the island's main harbour.

"I'm here to see the captain. I was told he conducts business at this office from noon to six every other Tuesday and therefore might be available?"

The wiry eyebrows rose almost to the red cap and his lips thinned as he took another glance at her attire, clearly taking in the sober cut and colour of her dress.

"A fair warning, Mistress, if you're here in an attempt to spread the Gospel to the cap'n alongside the godless heathens who sacrifice chickens to their idols and the dockside whores who only worship coin and don't get on their knees to pray, he's not going to be very receptive to your message."

Emma hid her amusement, "No, I suppose not."

Many pious men and women had made the perilous ocean crossing to the New World, hauling trunks full of treatises and pamphlets and hymnals with them to found missions and churches in His name. They sought to convert and baptize new faithful along the roads being carved from the virgin ground and in the towns that sprung up as quickly as mushrooms around each harbour and trade route as cargo was transported from island to island. Emma had encountered several of them already, in lieu of a pulpit they would preach in the market square to sailors and stevedores, whores and merchants, whoever was willing to listen.

But the one she had come to see was not likely to be found among even the most unorthodox of congregations.

"Mr. Smee, show the lady in and tell anyone else who inquires that I am indisposed for the rest of the afternoon."

His voice called from behind a narrow door that was standing slightly ajar at the far end of the room and Emma watched as the man jumped into the air like he'd been jabbed by a hot poker at the sound of it. His face flushed the same colour red as his cap and he scurried around the counter, gesturing madly for her to follow him. Emma smoothed out a fold in her skirt and ignored the strange flutter in her chest, taking a moment to calm her nerves before falling in step behind the man and entering what was clearly the inner sanctum to be greeted for the first time by Captain Killian Jones.

The fashionable chevalier in Paris with his tailored breeches and polished riding boots was gone, and in his place was a figure clad in supple leather trousers that rippled and flexed over his thighs when he stood at her entrance. Instead of sumptuous velvets and lace cuffs and collar, he wore a scarlet waistcoat over a high-collared shirt that was open at the throat and revealed a dusting of dark hair on his chest and the glint of a silver necklace. He was as far removed from the courts of Europe as was possible in his rakish attire but the face was the same and the demon smiled, hooking a thumb in his thick belt and rocking back on his heels.

"Well," he said, in a lazy drawl that was nothing like formal, elegant French and yet it felt like the whisper of silk against her skin, "It seems the tides have decided to turn in my favour."

The room they were standing in clearly functioned as an office, with a large carved desk spread thick with papers and a shelf full of fat, leather-bound ledgers. Emma had heard that he had established himself in the colony as his base of operations, owner of a small fleet of ships that transported both cargo and passengers back and forth. There were fortunes to be made in spice and sugar and his was one of many such ventures that plied the waters around the patchwork group of new nations with vessels in every possible configuration of size and shape.

Hello, Captain Jones. Or should I say...Captain Hook?"

She heard a sharp intake of breath from the man Killian had called Smee, still standing in the open door and from the corner of her eye she saw him reach for the the rawhide sheath hanging from his belt. But before he could pull the knife Killian held up a hand to stop him.

"Ah. So you have heard of me?"

Captain K. Jones was a prosperous merchant sailor who didn't deal in contraband and whose papers were always in order on every one of his ships. Captain Hook was a notorious smuggler, a pirate who served no king and had a price on his head in ports from South America all the way to Canada in the north, though he was known to mainly ply his illegal trade on the turquoise blue waters of the Caribbean Sea. There were wild rumours about him, that he had a hook for a hand and any rival who challenged him quickly found their way to the bottom of the ocean, but from what Emma could tell there were very few who knew that the two men were one and the same and no one knew the truth - that he wasn't a man at all.

Well, except for her, she supposed, just as he knew her own secrets more deeper than any confessor.

Bless me Father, for I have sinned.

"Leave us."

It was directed at Smee and was clearly an order, a command from one who was used to being obeyed. Emma saw him glance between them with obvious speculation and then he shuffled out without a word, pulling the door shut behind him as he went. They were alone, and not, the memory of Paris and a kiss that she had relived more times than she'd admit was like another presence in the room with them, unseen but clearly felt in the weight of the demon's sideways gaze even as he went to a glass-fronted painted cabinet that would not be out of place in a French drawing room and retrieved a bottle that certainly would, a squat jug that was a cloudy green in colour and bore no label, a far cry from the fine brandy and champagne served at Versailles. But the Bourbons were gone, their dynasty now nothing but a memory that would fade into history within the next generation.

Two mismatched glasses were set on the desk and Killian deftly uncorked the bottle with a flick of his thumb, the silver ring he wore on it a wide band that reached almost to his knuckle. He poured out the drinks, the liquor flowing like liquid amber and a rich smell that was both spicy and sweet filling the small room. He lifted both glasses and held one out to her, she took it without letting their fingers touch even though she still wore her gloves and he clinked his own tumblr gently against it.

"Salve, beata."

The pitch of his voice was low, intimate and the liquor seemed to coat her throat and curled like a flame in her belly, warming her from the inside with a taste that was both dark with hints of smoky char and yet sweet at the same time, a touch of vanilla and a honeyed note that matched the golden colour swirling slowly around in the glass.

"The Romans built an empire on salt, roads were built solely to transport it and they even paid their soldiers with it in lieu of coin. Here they do the same with sugar, I could pay my crews in barrels of this rum and they'd take it as easily as gold. The real treasure of the New World, so to speak."

Killian moved closer, his lips damp with the drink as he reached out to brush a curl that had escaped her hairpins back over her shoulder. She remembered the feel of his hand in her hair and the taste of his lips, darker than than the spirit when pressed to hers. The heat of him was stronger than anything produced by the rum and promised to be even more potent, if she moved to work the little jet buttons of his scarlet waistcoat and let her lace shawl drop to the floor, baring them both and discarding the trappings of what they pretended to be. She knew more than just the names he used in the ports and towns of these kingdoms without kings, she knew what really lay beneath the handsome face and the talk of empires of sugar and salt. They'd had a similar conversation once in the shadows of a palace that had been the showpiece of an empire and now stood empty and ransacked, a mockery of a monument to a fallen regime. Rome fell, Versailles fell.

An angel could fall...an angel did, once.

Which was exactly why she couldn't give in to the urge to touch the flame that flickered and beckoned, even though she knew it wouldn't burn. At least, not at first.

The demon wrapped the curl around his index finger for a moment, over the square-cut ruby on another ring before tucking it back behind her ear and letting his touch linger on the base of her skull as softly as if he was handling something delicate and precious before he pulled back and went to pour more rum in his glass. He held the bottle high and it came out in an unnaturally perfect arc that spoke of his true nature, catching the sunlight through the somewhat dusty window and shimmering as it rippled and flowed. It was a strangely beautiful sight, beautiful like the sweep of his dark lashes against his cheeks when he blinked and the sea-blue eyes that had first locked with hers three centuries and an ocean away in Rome.

More dangerous thoughts, so she looked at the tumbler in her hand and reminded herself of why she had come to him.

"It's not just built on sugar, you know."

The market in the centre of the island's small capital sold all manner of goods, green vegetables plucked fresh from the dirt and tiny pink pearls harvested from the shallows.

And men.

And women.

And children.

His gaze went sharper than any blade at her reminder and he nodded, taking a deep swallow of the liquor that was practically liquid gold.

"I know," he said, simply. She'd heard many sordid tales of him in his guise as Hook, but in none of them was he a slaver, trading in the cargo of human souls.

Emma sighed, "Captain-"

"We're alone now, angel," Killian interrupted, "Mr. Smee has wisely chosen to vacate the premises entirely and there's no need to be so formal, though should he pluck up the courage to ask I will tell him that you are the Lady Swan, and he'll make his own assumptions about the exact nature of our obvious prior acquaintance, nearly all of which will be wrong."

He set his tumbler down on the desk and snapped his fingers over it. The rum inside ignited, gold turning to red as the flames licked the inside of the glass and the smell of burnt sugar rose, mixed with something else.

Let me be damned to the rest of the world, Emma, but I am Killian to you.

He could be that, at least.

"Killian."

There was a map on the desk of the Caribbean Sea, weighed down at the curling edges with a large pink seashell among various other items. Islands ringed the creamy paper like diamonds on a necklace, and, like jewels, some were more valuable than others. She found a name on the map, the letters dark and slanting against a pale blue sea. Like Killian's eyelashes, dark and slanting against the sea blue of his eyes.

"This is not a social call, is it, Emma?"

Those eyes saw too much, the weakness in a man's soul and her own hesitation in Paris, an ocean away but a memory held between them and only them, the brush of lips as the pink and gold sunrise rose above the gabled rooftops and wrought-iron railings. The words were quiet, resigned, he'd seen right through her and she felt a pang of regret.

"No, it's not," she agreed.

"Do you wish it could be?"

It was whispered right into the shell of her ear, he'd moved in the blink of an eye and she could feel him right behind her. So close, but not touching, his presence seemed to wrap around her like the shawl wrapped around her shoulders. A shadow against the sun, she could see his silhouette on the wall, covering hers. Killian lifted his left hand and it wasn't a hand, it curved like a hook as he traced along the line of her neck. The rumours about him were not just tales, spun by superstitious sailors with tongues loosened by too much drink. A devil of the sea with a hook for a hand, she watched his shadow move with inhuman grace and felt a pull deep inside, a tug like she was caught up in the undertow that rippled unseen under the sapphire waves.

Give in.

Let go.

Drown.

When Emma turned there was no hook, of course, just long, ringed fingers and an unblinking stare that she met head on. His gaze softened, eyes smudged with kohl to protect against the glare of the sun off the water. But he still looked straight into the light.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"A ship…," she answered, darting her gaze down to the map again and looking back up, "and safe passage."

The corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement, "Safe passage? Did you forget again that you have wings, angel? Because I haven't."

She ignored the veiled reminder, "Can you help me, Killian?"

"I have two vessels in port at the moment and could perhaps spare one on this mysterious journey. But I need to know the destination."

His eyes narrowed when she hesitated, glancing over his shoulder and out the window. The sea in the distance was calm, bright as any jewel and as dangerous as he was, full of hidden threats both natural and not. Finally she answered, "Port-au-Prince."

"Saint-Domingue?"

Killian pronounced it the French way, lilting and slightly slurred, even as his face creased with growing suspicion. She said nothing, watching as his mind worked behind the handsome visage.

"Emma," he exhaled at last, closing his eyes and huffing out a breath, "Do you have any idea of how dangerous it is to even attempt such a crossing? I could take you to beaches where the sand is as pink as your lips and the waters are warm as a bath, hidden isles not to be found on any map where flowers grow so thick they're like carpets underfoot and the air is filled with their sweet perfume, and you want to go to Saint-Domingue?"

"I need to go. Killian, please."

They stared at each other, so close that they were nearly touching. He gave a slow, clipped nod.

"As you wish. But it will take a few days to prepare a ship for the voyage."

She laid a hand on his sleeve, "Thank you."

He lifted it in his, stroking his thumb under the edge of her glove where her pulse fluttered against the delicate skin.

"Jones?" she queried, noting the flash of something behind his eyes.

"It was as good a name as any," he said with a one-shouldered shrug. But his jaw pulled tight for a moment and she knew there was more to it than that. Emma decided not to press, not when he hadn't pressed her on why she needed passage to Saint-Domingue.

"He thought I had come here to minister to you, infernal one. Mr. Smee, that is."

A laugh escaped him at that, the mood lightening even as the sun was just beginning to set outside.

"Aren't you, blessed one?" Killian asked with a grin, "Well then, Lady Swan. Let us dine together tonight, and you may minister to me in whichever manner you see fit."

He pressed his heels together and bent over her hand, kissing the glove like a gentleman.

Lady Swan.

She liked that.

#cs ff #cs fic #my fic #Between Heaven and Hell

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