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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

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Inception: Chapter 6

The City of Mondstat--what a gorgeous place to host the wind archon! You admired the city gates as you and Ajax crossed the cobblestone bridge that greets guests and attendees alike. The sour face a little boy made as your presence scared the pigeons away made you feel a little bad--it wasn't the first time you've interrupted his pigeon hangouts.

"I'll put our belongings in our apartment. Why don't you take a look around the shops? I'll buy you whatever you like once I've checked in." Ajax removed the pack from your shoulders before you had the chance to answer. "My day will be busy in a bit, so you'll be on your own until late evening. I hope that won't be of any trouble?"

"Of course not. Besides, I have friends here too."

Friends, only as in the wealthiest bachelor in Mond: Diluc! You had met him in the wilderness bordering Liyue and Mondstat, where you had been following a particularly rowdy group of Fatui under Childe's supervision. It had been dark and gloomy, the land filled with thunderous rain that refused to let up, and you were vulnerable to those cryo vultures of agents. Of course, this was during the time after your mother died and were beginning to contemplate causing trouble for the Fatui.

And like a dumbass, you weren't at all careful in the beginning. That night you had bitten off more than you could chew--especially since you had never once used the vision in your pocket and your martial arts skills weren't as refined as they were now. Luckily Diluc was on a similar mission and intervened before you were severely injured. A deep respect formed for one another's resolves and you've been sharing intel with each other ever since.

So where better to go, than to Angel Share? Shopping could wait until later when Ajax would be by your side!

Just as you reached the tavern, you spotted a particularly well-dressed man with long blue hair sitting at one of the tables at the entrance. A few empty pints lay strewn about on his table, his cheeks a faint tint of buzzed-pink. He seemed to be enjoying himself when he spotted you. "Hey, fancy joining me here for a bit?"

"Hm? Oh, uh, sure? I don't believe I know you." You sat across from him and eyed whatever it was he was drinking. 'Dandelion wine.' You've tried it once before; it was light and airy, the fizz of alcohol tickling your taste buds with each sip. You weren't a frequent drinker though, so it's been quite some time since your last taste of alcohol.

"Kaeya, Knight of Favonius," the man held his gloved hand out to you, and you took it with little hesitance. The people of Mondstat were always warm and welcoming. "Who might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Reed. It's nice to meet you, Sir Kaeya. Do you come to Angel Share often? I thought it's unprofessional for knights to be seen at taverns." Especially since it's the middle of the day! Shouldn't he be on duty?!

"On the contrary, taverns are excellent sources of information. Though I suppose I come here more often than what's considered necessary." Kaeya's eye carefully narrowed as he studied you, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I've never seen you in Mondstat before."

"To tell you the truth, it's been like six months since I've last visited," you chuckled, making certain he didn't notice your interest in his interestingly-shaped pupil. Maybe it was some rare genetic trait you've never heard of before?

"Oh? You must be a traveler then, no?"

"Not really. I'm from Liyue, actually."

"Ah! The City of Contracts. But I sense you're not native to Liyue." You blinked in confusion as a smirk formed on his face. "Your intonation suggests Liyue origin as do your clothes, but your enunciation says otherwise. May I take a guess?"

Your seat creaked as you sat up straighter. "U-Uh...sure..."

Kaeya leaned back in his seat and sized you up with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He calmly took a sip of his wine, licking the excess off the corner of his lower lip. After a few seconds, he appeared to confirm his thoughts. "Mm, yes. You're from Snezhnaya, no doubt."

A meek nod from you sent him chuckling. There was a strange sense of danger lurking in your chest, tightening evermore as he watched you like prey. Just who was this knight? Why did a dangerous chill run down your back? It wouldn't be the first time people have shown their darker sides to Snezhnayan emigrants--"How did you..."

"Heh, don't take it so seriously. I am a knight, after all. They don't just let anyone get the job." Kaeya took another, deeper gulp of wine this time and placed his pint down. His smile was friendlier now, allowing you to relax back into your seat. "So, are you here for business or pleasure?"

A faint blush reached your cheeks. "Business, I guess. But it's not mine. My...friend is here for business reasons, I'm just tagging along with him."

"Oh? If he has a branch here, I might know him. Who is this friend of yours?"

"Oh, his name's Ajax. He's actually a toy seller."

Kaeya's eye widened slightly at this. There are no Liyue toy sellers that visit Mondstat, save for travelling merchants. "A toy seller? Fascinating." He goaded you to continue with a nod.

"He's pretty private when it comes to work; doesn't like to mix it with personal matters. We'll be staying here for a few days, so I'm sure you'll be seeing more of us."

"Is he Snezhnayan too?"

"...Okay, you're creepily good."

Kaeya gave you a lazy shrug and smirked. "What can I say? I have a talent for this sort of thing." But when he returned to his normal posture, the mysterious glint in his eye was gone. Something contemplative, darker, was lurking. Something you didn't recognize nor understand.

And there was that flight-or-fight feeling again--

"There you are, ojou-chan!" A hand landed on your shoulder, and you startled. "I couldn't find you at the shops. I spotted a floral store nearby. Shall we check it out?" Childe stared hard at the man you sat across from and feigned a warm smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh? Is this one of the friends you mentioned?"

"Actually I just met him. He's a knight! Kaeya, this is Ajax."

Childe stiffened behind you. You told this guy his name?! A knight?! You--You! No. This is to be expected; you don't know the truth to begin with. "I see. Well, Reed, we should get going--"

"Aw, why so cold?" Kaeya faux-pouted and readjusted one of his gloves. He wasn't a stranger to the situation. He knew exactly who Ajax was; the harbinger status reeked about him. "Reed's told me all about you. I'm honored to meet your acquaintance, Ajax." The atmosphere seemed to freeze over and a thick tension settled over the table.

"...Can't say I feel the same," Childe spoke through gritted teeth. He slapped another forced smile on and addressed you again. "Aha, Reed, we should get going. I only have a few minutes before my meeting--"

"Ah, your toy seller company? What was the name again? Even as a cavalry captain, I wasn't aware we had foreign companies in our walls." His gaze was only focused on Ajax.

"Um...What do you mean?" The grip on your shoulder tightened as a warning that went unnoticed.

"So you're truly unaware?" Kaeya's attention dropped to you and something akin to sadistic pleasure lit up his expression. "This will be quite lively indeed." He took another sip of wine before standing to meet Childe's glare head-on. "You've done an exceptional job at keeping her in the dark, if I say so myself. As to be expected from someone of your status."

"Ajax, what's he talking about?"

"Reed, let's go." He nearly lifted you up himself. Ajax grabbed your wrist and whisked you away in a hurry.

"You can't hide from the one that calls you friend!" Kaeya shouted after the two of you while Childe pulled harder at your wrist.

"What does that mean?" A glance back to the knight that held a knowing smile then to the man that held your arm gave you an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Was there something that Ajax was hiding from you, and if so, what was it if it got the attention of a Mondstat cavalry captain? "Ajax? What's he going on about?"

His grip tightened until it almost hurt. "Don't talk to him ever again." He finally let go of you once both of you were hidden from the public eye in an alleyway, but the serious look in his eyes nearly made you flinch. He never looked so--what was it? Angry? Fearful? Grim? Perhaps the most frightening part was the emptiness in those blue irises, just like the day he returned from his disappearance...

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me right?" This got his attention and his gaze landed on you without looking at you. "You're scaring me by refusing to talk." You had thought that you two had grown closer on your way to Mondstat, but now it feels like you're moving backwards.

"It's nothing, promise," Childe flashed you with a pained grin. "Just...stay away from him. He seems to target my company a lot for no reason other than prejudice."

Maybe it was because it was a Snezhnayan company? "Um, okay..." He caught onto the hesitance in your eyes, and his hands lightly rubbed the sides of your arms as he peered down at you.

"Promise me. I swear it's nothing bad."

"...I promise." But for once, you were going to break it. You knew this as you met his relieved gaze. Something isn't right. You've picked up on it before with how he wouldn't touch you when there were people around, or his nervous glances at the surrounding area before he approached you. You weren't that stupid and oblivious to his behavior. Perhaps you were trying to suppress that uneasiness whenever he was around, but it's become impossible to ignore now.

"Okay," he let out a small sigh of relief and nodded. "I'll be working late tonight, so don't wait for me when it comes to eating and sleeping. Can you do that?"

"I'm not a child, you know. I'm more than capable of handling myself," you retorted with lips twitching upward. "I'll be fine. Do what you need to do. I'll be around petting the cute dogs and cats all day!"

"I wish I could go along with you," he admitted before placing an innocent peck at your forehead. "I'll be back later."

"See ya." You stared at his back until it disappeared among the crowd and released a breath you didn't know you were holding. A hand rubbed your queasy stomach. Now to pet some animals for some anxiety relief as you think of what to do next...

Kaeya knew you'd be back later that evening at Angel Share. He was an expert at studying people and if he had learned anything from those brief chats with you, it was that you were not the kind of person that's able to let his comments go. So as he patiently sipped at his wine glass at the corner of the bar's first floor, the ringaling of the chime that indicated the entry of a new customer let him know you were right on time for the show.

Diluc raised a brow at you; he had caught a glimpse of your figure out the window earlier. It was rare for you to travel to Mond, and even more so to not have asked for Fatui intel by now. In fact, it was like you weren't in town for that information this time. You nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes flicked to the knight in the darkest corner of the tavern. "The strongest alcohol you've got, please."

Diluc watched you with concern for a moment before grabbing one of the bottles on the shelf behind him. "You're a lightweight; I wouldn't recommend you drink on an empty stomach. Have you eaten yet? I can make you something on the house if you'd like."

"That's okay, I'm not hungry."

"Very well." A pint slid to you on the bar counter and you immediately downed a concerning amount without so much as pausing for a breath. This earned another brow raise from Diluc, but he remained quiet as you walked towards Kaeya--who was already a bit tipsy and needless to say, unwelcome in this tavern.

Kaeya's lips curled upward as your footsteps got louder, and his eyes finally lifted from his glass to watch you plop down on the other side of the table. "Well well well, I wasn't expecting you to speak to me after what happened this morning. What's lil Reed want with me at this late hour?"

You swallowed the nervousness that ate at you with his sly stare and sat up straighter. "Tell me what you meant this morning."

"Oh? I don't quite remember which part," he swirled the wine in his glass. "Care to enlighten me?"

"'You can't hide from the one that calls you friend.'" Your finger tapped impatiently against the rim of your cup. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Are you certain you want to hear it?" Kaeya remained in his relaxed position with an arm across the back of his seat and a leg perched across the other. You didn't answer, your gaze instead dropping to the alcohol in your cup to avoid his predatory stare. It didn't feel safe with him eyeing you like you were food. It was as if he was able to see the thoughts swirling around inside your head. "It seems to me you already know. You've only sought me out to confirm your fears."

"Maybe I want to be wrong," you mumbled. The horrible fears that swirled in your heart weren't exactly unfounded; with what you know, they'd make more sense to be true than false. Ajax was violent after he disappeared...looking for fights even after you said your official goodbyes...it wouldn't be completely out of the question to think he'd join the Fatui.

Kaeya eyed you carefully and a smile spread across his face as he sat forward. "Well darling, I'd be more than happy to burst that hopeful bubble of yours. The question is, are you willing to pay the price?"

"I don't care about the truth hurting my fee-"

"Ah ah ah," he lazily wagged a finger at you and sat back again. "I think it's only fair that in giving you this information, I receive some in return."

"What about?"

"I've done some digging on you and your...honorary reputation in Liyue."

"That was quick."

"Isn't it? You see, Master Diluc and I have a shared interest in the Fatui. I want all the information you have on them." Known only to Kaeya, Diluc was carefully listening to this conversation and held back a scoff at this remark. Diluc did tell Kaeya about your reputation, but only after the latter insisted you and your 'friend' were connected to the Fatui Harbingers.

"Deal." Maybe Diluc doesn't like sharing his intel with the knights, but it wouldn't hurt to share the information with Kaeya. You were all on the same side here anyway.

"Good girl," he tilted his head slightly and tipped the wine glass to his lips. "Now that that's settled, go ahead and ask me."

You bit your lip and gathered the courage and anxiety that had been swirling in your stomach. A quick gulp or two...or three of your glass and you spit your thoughts out before you could shrivel up on yourself. "What do you know about my Ajax?"

The sadistic look in his eye only increased as he set his glass down for the first time in a literal hour. He didn't even hesitate to answer you. "Your 'Ajax' is none other than a Fatui Harbinger that goes by 'Childe.'"

You almost couldn't hear him with the obnoxious ringing in your ears. "A Harbinger?"

"The same one that almost drowned Liyue all those months ago. But I'm guessing you were already able to gather that much after this morning, weren't you?" He held eye contact with you and another smile danced across his lips. He could see the gears turning in your head as you struggled to digest this bombshell of information and it was oh-so delightful to watch unfold. "I'm sure you've heard of the infamous 11th Harbinger since you're originally from Snezhnaya."

"The one known for numerous kills on the battlefield," you uttered absently while vacant eyes stared at the tabletop. It hurt like hell to know the truth, but it hurt even worse that he was the same harbinger that tried to drown Liyue. That tried to drown you.

"Ding ding ding."

You downed the rest of your drink without a second thought and slammed the pint onto the table. "Diluc, I'm gonna need another. Please."

Childe met Lady Signora at the Grande Goth Hotel and after having dinner with her and her highest-ranking officers, he placed his utensils down. "As you've seen in my letter, some of my men are missing or going missing as we speak."

"You're asking for my help?" The lady looked at Childe with an exasperated expression. "I thought the Tsaritsa was correct in giving you the task. Are you saying you are unable to find leads?"

He bit his tongue to keep from losing his temper with Signora. It wasn't an understatement to say he was still salty over her deception with Zhongli that ended up making him look like a fool to the whole of Liyue. "I only came to ask if any of your men had gone missing."

Signora's eyes narrowed slightly. "Three."

"I could use those reports if you don't mind."

"They'll be at your disposal," she assured. "How many men have gone missing under your watch, Childe?"

Of course she would ask this. Childe grit his teeth. "Twenty more. A total of fifty are gone now." Feeling her judgement, he continued with a more aggressive tone. "There's little evidence to suggest they're being taken against their will, so my assumption is they're purposely abandoning their posts."

"Abandoning their posts? The Tsaritsa only recruits the loyal. Why would they turn against Her Majesty?"

"Your guess is as good as mine at this point. Rest assured that I'm working as hard as I can with the information I've been given."

"And the vigilante I've heard rumors about?"

His heart sank. "The vigilante in Liyue? I've confirmed they have nothing to do with the disappearances. The most they've done is broke an arm or two, and killing isn't their style. They were clueless when I brought the matter up to them."

"And...?"

"It's not them," he sat up and deadpanned. He had to be careful with his words now that you had managed to catch the attention of another harbinger. They definitely wouldn't give you a free pass to harass their men as you please. "There's no connection. The working theory is the Fatui are abandoning their posts due to some third party. There have been reports of cult activity as of late, though. My bet is on that."

Seemingly satisfied with his thoughts, Signora took another sip of wine. "Very well. As long as you catch the person responsible, I won't need to bring my concerns to the Tsaritsa." This earned a glare from Childe and he bit his tongue.

It was 11:30 at night when he got back to the rented apartment that he shared with you. As expected, the lights were out. Childe quietly made his way to the bed when he realized how cold it was, and you hadn't so much as left an imprint. You weren't there, and you hadn't visited it to begin with.

Shit.

The sinking feeling in his stomach only worsened as he ran full speed to that damned tavern you loved so much. His hand shook as he turned the knob and opened the door, greeted by a redheaded bartender that did not look happy to see him.

"My apologies, but we just closed," he said as he dried a wine glass with a white cloth. "We open at two tomorrow." He did his best not to act on impulse and kill the harbinger where he stood.

Childe crinkled his nose at this and looked to his left. Sure enough you were sitting across from that stupid knight. He couldn't see your face since your back was to him, but that didn't stop the pounding in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He ignored Diluc's annoyed protest and approached the table.

"Reed." His hand lightly landed your shoulder, begging for you to turn around. Instead of the usual flush of warmth he received from your vision, his hand was engulfed in flames. His vision reacted just as quickly as he removed his hand, and the vapor produced flew to the ceiling. The stinging he felt in his palm let him know he'd have blisters at the very least. His eyes widened as he came to terms with what had happened.

The pyrophobe used actual fire.

He tried again anyway. "Reed," he called out firmly, careful not to let on the shakiness in his voice. "It's late. Let's get you home." His hand reached out again but before it could make contact, your shoulders befell into flames and you stood up. He caught the devilish smirk on Kaeya's face as you did and scoffed. "Stay away from--"

"Get out." The words caught in his throat when a cold tone contrary to your vision reached his ears. "Get out before I do something I won't regret."

"Reed--"

"Get out, Childe."

"You might want to obey the lady's wishes," Kaeya egged on and finished his wine off. "When women want to be left alone, they want to be left alone."

"You," Childe growled and moved to get past you. "You--" A wall of flame blocked his path to throwing hands, and it was at this moment that Childe saw the brokenness in your eyes. They were bloodshot--you were no doubt drunk. Your face was red and puffy. You cried a lot when Kaeya told you, didn't you? "...I can explain."

"There is no undoing this," you cried out and shook your head. "You'll only dig yourself a deeper grave. Get the hell out of my sight. I never want to see you again!"

Reed, he pleaded silently, but red hair obscured his view of you.

"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises, sir. If you don't leave her alone, this constitutes as harassment and we do have a knight here that can arrest you."

"Tch. Some 'knight.'" The cocky grin on the cavalry captain only made Childe's hatred deepen. As much as he wanted to stay and try to get through to you, he'd have to force himself to leave--a harbinger making ruckus in two nations would definitely not give the Tsaritsa a good look.

..........

You needed to cool off. Diluc let you crash at the tavern much to your delight and less to his--he had insisted you come with him to his mansion since it'd be more comfortable for a lady, but you had refused and said the table you sat at was fine enough. Kaeya had left some time after Childe had, chuckling at some joke he made about the situation that wasn't funny.

The early sunrise gave you the opportunity to leave Mond before Childe could try to talk to you again. Luckily you hadn't brought much with you on the trip anyway, so you just walked out the gates with the clothes on your back without visiting the apartment that man had rent you. Surviving in the wilderness wasn't difficult and the nation of Liyue wasn't but two days' trip southwest. You've made the journey many times when consulting with Diluc over Fatui intelligence.

You weren't but halfway to Liyue Harbor--one and a half days' journey--when you encountered your first lawachurl of the trip. Usually they weren't near the roadside and they were easy to avoid, but this one was clearly agitated and actively looking for something to kill. By the time you realized what you were looking at it was already upon you. And if that weren't enough of an inconvenience, this lawachurl was different than the ones typically found in Liyue; it was purple. Electro.

"Woah, what the hell?" The words escaped you without you hearing them over the roar of the monster. "You're not supposed to exist here--" These were only found in Inazuma, a nation of islands several hundred miles away from the coast of the mainland. What was it doing here? They can't even swim!

"RAWWWWWRRRRRRRRR!" The beast bellowed yet again. It leapt into the air and attempted to crush you beneath its feet. Luckily you threw yourself out of the way just in time, the shock of the impact getting dirt into your mouth.

You've never fought one before, but you've heard the stories. They're a lot bigger in person. If Childe hadn't reunited with you, you'd never be put in this situation. That thought made your blood boil and skin flush crimson. "Like hell you're gonna get in my way right now."

"URGH!" The lawachurl stumbled back when a wall of fire hit him.

Small flames danced around your fingertips while you watched with an empty gaze. "Maybe fire isn't so bad after all."

"Milady! Stand back! We'll handle this!" Your gaze left your fingers and greeted the Millelith. Apparently this issue had somehow been reported to the Qixing...Were there more incidents like this while you were in Mond?

"What, you and your little spears? You don't even have visions."

"Stand ba--"

"AWWRRR!" The lawachurl charged at you with incredible speed. It's fists crushed the ground where you stood, but a sharp gale roughly swept you off your feet.

"What--!" Upon opening your eyes, you were greeted by particularly catlike eyes. "U-um--"

"Don't turn your back to them," the man warned, setting you down on the tree branch he stood on. Without wasting anymore time he disappeared before you and reappeared above the lawachurl. He plunged his spear down through the top of the beast's head multiple times within a second. It died not long after, its remains turning to ash that blew away with the light breeze that swept through the valley.

"'Them...?'" There's more, a shiver rolled down your spine at the reward of your vantage point. There are more. Tens of them, all electro! From what you could see through the golden leaves of the ginkgo tree you stood in, they were scattered across the yellow plains! How the hell did they...With widening eyes, your attention shifted down to the Millelith. There were roughly ten of them, all battered down and overworked. Tiny specs in the distance indicated these were the only ones left that could fight these things off.

This wasn't some small random incident. This was a battlefield.

Your gaze shifted to the mysterious young man that was killing the nearby lawachurls with the ease of a god. This must be the Vigilant Yaksha Zhongli had told you stories of when you first began working at the parlor, right? He certainly matched the description--

"Get down!" The man shouted to the Millelith as he sliced through the air above them to intervene the lawachurls that nearly overran them. "Useless!" The Millelith weren't of any help to this situation; they were practically fodder and so easily slaughtered being the normal humans they were.

Your feet acted before your mind did. Just as the yaksha cut through the air again, you punched the nearest lawachurl with a fiery fist to create a swirl reaction. It died almost instantly. The two of you nodded at one another, then he turned to the Millelith.

"These are matters for adepti. Stay out of my way."

"Y-Yes sir!" One of them said and ordered for another to report back to the Harbor to inform the Qixing of the situation. As they began to jog off, you turned to the yaksha.

"That means you too," he summoned his mask.

"But I can help!"

"Tch. Don't underestimate the abilities of adepti." The masked man turned to you, and the sight of it made your blood run cold. How did Mr. Zhongli know about such an intimidating person?

You straightened up and puffed out your chest. "There's lots of them. Wouldn't it be better if you had all the help you could get?"

"This is nothing. I've already cleared the road that leads to Liyue. You'll have a safe passage. Go now." He didn't wait for your response and was already on the other side of the river by the time you blinked.

"Like hell I'm gonna do that," you grumbled with burning skin. "Better I take my anger out on these things than wreck my room--"

A roar that was loud enough to vibrate your bones erupted from behind you. A lawachurl had somehow managed to sneak up on you within mere seconds of the yaksha's absence, and he was already long-gone somewhere in the plains. Startled, you spun around only for it's gigantic claw to swipe at you.

"Gngha!" Your training kicked in and your forearm swept through the air to collide with it's claw. The brute force of the monster's strength almost caused you to lose your footing--certainly a Visionless person would've been sent flying and severely injured--but you bit through the impact and dug your right boot into the soil. The claw pressed further against you, the monster not expecting resistance but still refusing to give in, and electricity crackled in the air. It pushed harder and harder until your knees nearly buckled under the weight. "Tch...ngh...hAA!"

With flames dancing upon your skin from the edge of your boots to the forearm that was the only thing preventing you from being crushed, you pushed back twice as hard. The fist of the lawachurl slowly but surely lifted away from you as you shoved. The spot that was touching your forearm began to burn from the heat you emitted until smoke and the foul smell of burning flesh appeared.

The monster tried to pull away from you as pain spread through its claw, but your petite hands gripped its fingers and yanked them towards you with such a force that the entire being began to fall atop you. "YOU'RE DEAD!" The shadow of the beast that fell towards you blocked out the sun, but with a fiery fist you threw upwards and lit the way until it had burned through the body. There you stood, quite literally in the carnage, with your body standing in the clear-cut cavity of the beast. Just as quickly as it landed, it turned to ash.

Childe slowly relaxed his grip on the bowstring he held against his cheek and dismissed his weapon while you regained your breath. So this is what you're capable of, he thought with a flicker of a smirk. This is how mad he made you. You were cute when you were angry...how come he didn't piss you off sooner? The sickly thrill he got at the idea of fighting you at your full potential was addicting, but as soon as it appeared it wore off after hearing the words you muttered.

"I swear to Rex Lapis if he ever comes near me again, I'll kill him."

He knew you meant it much to his delight and sorrow. The fire burning brightly in your eyes was deadly, the deep passion of the flames that licked your arm slowly burning your skin...

You didn't so much as flinch as it did.

#wesimpforxiao #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia #inception

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buckstaposition · 4 years

Text

I cling to your lips like gloss (2)

a Javier Peña x OFC story

also on AO3

author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (in case u wanna come say hello on main but no pressure)

rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death, some mentions of sexual situations but nothing explicit, spoilers for season 2 (should probably have tagged ch1 for this too oops)

words: 6607, no regrets

summary: it’s not a date if it’s for work

Author’s note: There is so much research that went into this I would just like to say thank you internet for letting me look up stuff from the comfort of my own home at unholy hours even though I did get very distracted while looking up late 80s wedding dress fashion. Also bless the s2 dvd extra which was a director’s commentary on s2 ep10 and very informative.

—

Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries @fromthedeskoftheraven @shikin83

(message me if you want to be added to the list. or just message me in general)

and also I urge you to look at the beautiful moodboard that @huliabitch made for me! I love it so much!

Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Informant

Chapter 2 - A Wedding and Four Funerals

"All the best from Mr DEA." Diana said as she threw herself down in the seat across from her best friend. Gabriela looked effortlessly glamourous as usual, even though she was just in a blouse and jeans. She just had that air about her, like one of the vintage movie stars, something Diana had never quite been able to match. She was well aware she was downright frumpy in comparison, not one to catch eyes just by walking past. For the most part, that suited her. Gabi tried to seem nonchalant about the greeting.

"Oh?" She sipped gingerly from her drink and put her menu away. "You finally met, then? He's back?"

Diana nodded and stowed away her purse and cardigan. "Yeah, this afternoon and yesterday, in the morning. He seems... nice enough? I don't know. Not a talker, is he? He seems a bit on edge, to be honest. Though I suppose that's to be expected." But despite everything, he still has kindness in his eyes.

Gabi just grinned at her for a long moment, waiting to pounce.

"Yeah, he can be a bit of a grump. ...Handsome though, no?"

Diana sighed, swatting at the other woman with her own menu. "Did it ever occur to you that the newly divorced woman might have had her fill of men for the time being?"

"It has occcurred to me that five years of unchanging, uninspired missionary for half an hour exactly, twice a week, with that wet blanket you married might have left you with the need to really be filled by a man for once."

"Gabriela!" she gasped, choking on thin air and mortification, even though their conversations would often get way more explicit than this. Just never with her being the subject. Gabriela just smiles like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, hailing a waiter to give him their order.

"Speaking of newly divorced: has the dipshit finally signed the papers then?" Diana groaned, throwing her glasses down onto the table to massage her temples.

"No, he's dragging his feet. Which is ridiculous, it's not like I want anything from him. It's not like we're fighting tooth and nail over every other thing, like that American movie, the one we watched on your mom's old VHS player, you know? With Meryl Streep? In any case, now he decides to fight? If you can call that fighting."

"Kramer vs Kramer." Gabi remarked sagely. "Yeah... At least you don't have children together. That could really have gone ugly. I still don't know what you ever saw in that man."

"Oh shut it. I used to be fond of Juan Mateo; I don't know when that changed." Diana huffed, quickly snatching up her glasses when the waiter sailed over with their drinks and appetizer.

"Well that's the problem, you never loved him! And your parents set too good an example; what could ever live up to that?" She took a generous drag from her drink, then dug into the food with hungry abandon. "At least you're finally rid of his snoring. And his mother."

"God, she really hated me. Couldn't bear it that her precious boy brought some lowly scum from the comunas into her pristine middle class home. Marrying me might have just been the only demonstration of free will that man has ever managed." Diana allowed herself to seethe a bit at the memory, taking it out on her food as she stabbed at it roughly. "And I will definitely not miss the snoring."

"Mr DEA barely snores." Gabriela remarked lightly. "Just ...very softly. It's quite cute."

"Since when do you let clients stay to actually sleep?" Diana inquired around a mouthful, brows scrunched. Gabriela hummed thoughtfully, swiping some sauce off her plate with a piece of bread.

"Ah, but he was so tired, poor thing. It wouldn't have been safe to send him back out, he would have crashed his car and died in a ditch somewhere, which would have been a real shame. I just let him nap for an hour or so that one time. Besides, I wasn't in any state to do much myself after he blew my back out." She had a way of being so nonchalant about these things that Diana supposed came from a sort of professional equanimity. Diana possessed no such poise and gawked openly, the wheels turning in her head as she recalled previous conversations and connected dots.

"Oh." She breathed as realization hit. "Oh! No! That was him? You're kidding me. How am supposed to look him in the eye now?" Gabi was already cackling, barely able to hold her laughter as Diana sputtered, recalling the very detailed recounting she'd received after the night in question. "You said you felt that for days after!"

"I did, but it was worth it." Gabi was now subtly holding her sides, having pushed her empty plate away to be collected. "You see, you're my dearest and oldest friend and I only want the best for you."

"I'm sure Mr DEA would be delighted to know of your crude attempts to pimp him out." Diana snarked, pushing her own plate to the side just in time to be whisked away by the waiter. "You're incorrigible. This is serious. Besides, I think he really liked you, actually."

"He liked the illusion of intimacy, like most of my clients. Lonely but with committment issues to the moon and back. It's not like I'm telling you to marry him. I'm just trying to get you properly laid for once." Gabriela scoffed. She could be so detached sometimes. In fact, one could call it downright cynical. But Diana had known her since they were both in pigtails and could detect the care behind even the most jaded words.

"Oh whatever. I request a change of topic. How's your book coming along? Any progress on that chapter that's been giving you so much trouble?" Diana asked sweetly, making the other woman glare at her over the plates with their main courses as they were being set down. Because yes, Gabriela does indeed write more than letters, and she's good, too. Also, two can play this game of being just slightly mean.

--- --- ---

Javier hated team meetings. And now that he was the boss here he couldn't even get out of them. Worse, he had to lead them. He looked over the assembled agents, glad that he had most of their names down by now. Gladder still that this was a DEA-only event and he wouldn't have to deal with any of Stechner's CIA asswads for now.

"Duffy, where are we on the shipments?" He turned to the other man expectantly. Duffy was one of the few agents here that weren't younger than him; he actually had some experience under his belt, unlike all these fucking greenhorns the higher-ups had sent him. He forced himself to pay attention to Agent Duffy's answer, making notes of important dates as he listened. Operation Cornerstone had, at this point, not yet come to full fruition, but if they continued to put in their due dilligence it was almost certain to turn up something useful. When they'd gone through all the points on his agenda, and after clearing up a few uncertainties, he dismissed the roomful of agents.

"Duffy, got another moment?" Javier stopped the other agent as he turned to leave the conference room.

"Sir?" Duffy sat back down and pulled his writing pad back out.

"Have you come up with any ideas for my informant in Calí?" Javier had mentioned this before, seeing as Duffy was one of the agents permanently stationed at the Calí field office. Now that Escobar was gone it would look suspicious if the head of the DEA in the country trekked up to Medellín every other week, and they needed a better way for Miss Rivas to hand over her collected intel. Duffy cleared his throat and caught the eye of one of his colleagues and waved him over.

"Lopez here has had a few ideas, sir. Tony, tell the boss your ideas for drop-offs."

The other agent was younger, handsome in that pretty way that made girls sigh dreamily, going by his own, admittedly remote, memory of high school and college. Lopez hadn't said much during the meeting, but had that eager glint in his eyes that said he wanted to prove himself. Javier had had that same look when he first came down here; it hadn't survived the first year.

"Let's hear it."

"Okay, so I was thinking the public library might be worth a shot." Agent Lopez pulled a notepad from his own case, squinting down at the scrawled chickenscratch. Javier nodded along, encouraging more than praise. He'd have to run these ideas by Miss Rivas anyway, and if she had concerns they were back at square one. But that was a river he intended to cross when the time came and not a second earlier.

--- --- ---

The satphone was also a good instinct because after their preliminary meetings in April, it gets irritatingly difficult to arrange another one for over a month.

"The what now?"

"The 4th International Poetry Festival. It's on from June 2nd to 8th." she explained patiently. "Orietta Lozano, Gloria Gervitz, Blanca Varela!"

"I assume those are poets."

"Obviously."

"You want me to go to a poetry festival with you?"

"No, I'm taking the week off and I'm going to the festival, and I am also free to meet you. I'm just suggesting that maybe your work hours don't all have to be spent in dreariness and drudgery." Something sizzled on the other end of the line where she was making herself dinner while talking to him, and it made Javier's stomach grumble. "A bit of culture is good for the soul, Agent Peña. You'll burn yourself out with how much you work. When was the last time you ever did anything for fun? Read a book? Hell, listened to music?"

Whenever you call me. She always had music on at home. It drifted through the receiver, a soothing background hum that was too soft to truly make out most times. Add to that the fact that he was still sitting in his office at almost half past seven in the evening, and he didn't have a proper counter-argument.

"Alright, fine. 2nd to 8th, I'll see what I can do."

--- --- ---

She was wearing another belted shirt dress, this one pale yellow and sleeveless, the full skirt reaching to just below the knees. It reminded Javier of the style his mother used to wear when he was little. Saturday, June 4th, had him meet up with Miss Rivas at the Teatro Metropolitano in central Medellín. Her dress contrasted against the blocky red building in a way that tugged familiar, but Javier was trying to train himself to not see blood in every instance of red.

"This is quite a way from Envigado." He announced his approach as soon as he was close enough to not have to shout. She jumped a bit, clearly startled, but her lips pulled into a polite smile when she recognized him.

"Agent Peña." She greeted. "No, cultural grandeur doesn't usually make it out to the comunas." She sat back down on the bench and pulled a flyer from her (rather big) purse, thumbing it pensively. Javier sat beside her, not quite at arms' length. Trying to appear wordlessly inviting, if only to mask how at a loss for words she made him feel. He seemed to be no longer used to normal, civil human interaction.

"Right, there is one reading here at the Metropol that starts in about half an hour that I think you might like. It has a few of the international poets; a few of them will be reading in English. Then there's another one later at the Teatro Carlos Vieco that I'm keen on. It's about half an hour on foot between locations, but there's the open air exhibits that only require a small detour." She pointed it all out on the program as she spoke, Javier silently nodding along in acknowledgement. "I've planned it so there's more than enough time for a lunch break. I hate having to rush through things that are meant to be enjoyed. I brought arepas, but there are usually enough street vendors out and about to get something else, if you prefer." She really did talk a lot. That was surprisingly fine by Javier, since it meant he didn't have to. "Though of course if you'd rather just get your intel and go I understand, but I must insist on at least this first reading, Agent Peña. But otherwise I wouldn't want to impose. I'm sure you have other things to do."

His lips twitched involuntarily and he held his hand out for the program flyer, silently reading it over. None of the names rung any kind of bell. Not that he was much of a poetry aficionado. "Sounds good to me."

She blinked. "Which part?"

He handed her back the flyer, which she took automatically, still eyeing him with uncertainty.

"All of it." She blinked again, looking mildly shocked, the flyer still dangling uselessly from her fingers. "Miss Rivas, I came all the way here and you went through all this trouble planning. It would be a waste to part ways after so short a time."

Truth be told it sounded ...nice. The thought of spending a day just exploring, letting work be work for even just a day (or at least part of it). Despite being an only child, he'd never liked being on his own even when he was young, cherishing every day spent with school friends or any of his numerous cousins. And it wasn't like he'd had to do far less pleasant things for information.

Her expression morphed from uncertain gaping into a wide, pleased smile that he couldn't help but mirror. Maybe she was quite a nice lady after all.

---

"...I have to ask though: What's a ...smit- ...smee-dereen?"

"Smithereens." Javier corrected gently as they exited the venue after the reading. "It means... it's all the small pieces that are left over when something is destroyed. Like with a bomb."

"Hmm," she hummed, pensive as they strolled along with the leisurely flow of the crowd, "I'll have to think a bit more about this." She fished around in her purse, producing bottled water and offering him one. He took it gratefully, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. "How did you like it, Agent Peña? Already regretting agreeing to this?"

"No." Javier found himself replying perhaps a smidgeon too quickly. "No, it's very uh... enriching." And not what he'd expected at all. Though the festival was now in its fourth year running, he'd never had the chance or the wish, really, to attend it before. He'd barely taken note of its existence, too preoccupied with chasing down leads.

"Hm, you don't have to mollify me, Agent Peña. You'll still get your intel, don't worry." Her expression slipped, from an almost serene smile back into that underlying heaviness that he could identify only now that it had been lifted for a short while.

"Miss Rivas," he said earnestly, "I wouldn't lie to you. I'm just not that good with words. That's why I'm a government agent and not a poet."

That at least made her chuckle a bit. And it was true, too. He felt lighter, in a way, like his mind had been craving a break from the frustrating work of trying to find an in to take down the cartel. Even his shoulders felt less tense here. And it was a beautiful day, too. Warm but not too hot, sunny with a mild breeze. People were out and about around them, festival goers and other citizens alike, mingling freely with a carelessness that would have been unthinkable only a year prior.

"Juan Mateo never wanted to come with me to this." She gestured vaguely at the city and its people around them. "My husband. Ex-husband. Technically still husband because he won't sign the divorce papers." Her features turned tense as she explained, a slight frown appearing between her brows. "Not that it matters now, of course. But goodness, that man had no sense for these things. He thought top shelf coffee was the height of culture. He'd act like going out to a bar one evening every few weeks was a chore beyond compare. Such a martyr!" She huffed and Javier laughed softly, offering to take her bag for a while as she adjusted it on her shoulder for the third time now.

"No, that's alright. It's not heavy. This way." Her hand naturally slipped into the crook of his elbow to steer him down the side of the road and Javier faltered for a moment, cursing himself for wearing a short-sleeved shirt even though it was comfortably warm. He just didn't want to get separated in the bustle of activity, he reasoned. This was a perfectly tame and non-offensive gesture and it would be rude to flinch away, he reasoned. She initiated it, after all. No harm no foul. This was still a professional alliance.

"You think very loudly, Agent Peña." She remarked, lightly squeezing his elbow. "It better not be about work."

"Technically I am at work right now." He countered, covering her hand on his arm with his much larger one and giving it an awkward pat.

"Lucky you." She teased, lightly nudging his side with her elbow.

"Beats paperwork, that's for sure."

They ambled along, weaving through the crowds where they gathered in front of street performers and makeshift stages. Javier couldn't deny that it felt good to feel the sun on his skin, un-recycled air in his lungs; most of all being far away from Stechner and his legion of CIA goons was almost rejuvenating. They fell into a languid rhythm, walking leisurely and stopping every so often to linger a bit where music was being played or more poetry recited, in front of the stalls of local artisans or to look at the sculptures that had been put up as an open air exhibit throughout the city. Every so often, Miss Rivas would tell him some little anecdote, be it about any of the previous festivals or just the city itself. He barely felt the time pass.

By the time they'd made it across the river and to the park wherein the open-air theatre was situated, it was time for a late lunch and Javier felt his stomach start to protest, all that walking serving to work up an appetite.

"...and after school Gabi and I would trek across town to the library and hide by the shelves in the back, the ones with the old classics, and we'd read all the scandalous 19th-century novels about adulteresses and other fallen women. You know, Anna Karenina, Thérèse Raquin, Madame Bovary, Tess of the d'Urbervilles..." Miss Rivas set her bag down and produced a fairly big plastic container from within, setting it on the bench between them. "Perhaps not the most appropriate fare for a couple of fifteen-year-old girls, but it wasn't like we had a whole lot of supervision, you know? It definitely wasn't appropriate to read to a five-year-old, so I guess it's good that Maritza never really paid attention much- Stop my prattling any time, Agent Peña. I know I talk too much; Juan Mateo always used to say so."

Javier paused, an abundantly filled arepa inches from his mouth. "He what now?"

She flushed, looking down and picking at the wrapping paper she'd bundled the food up in. "It's fine, it's not a big deal, really."

"It's not fine." Javier insisted. Told her to shut up, told his own wife that she talked to much! What an ass. He started tearing into the arepa with a glower. They sat in silence for a while, chewing tensely in this little corner of the park at the foot of Cerro Nutibara, in a spot that was fairly hidden among the greenery while still affording a decent view of the city streets below. Javier didn't even know why it irked him so much. There were worse things out there than insensitive husbands. Ex-husbands at that. Still, he seethed quietly in his righteous wrath.

"Wanna see something funny?" She was already digging through her purse, so he didn't see much sense in replying. She pulled a photo from some deep compartment in her wallet, looking down at it thoughtfully for a moment before passing it to him. In his defence, Javier hadn't meant to laugh. It just came out, snorty and half-aborted.

"Hey, at least I managed to evade the poofy sleeves, okay? My mother was dead set on them. She wanted me to look like the English lady… uh, Princess Diana. I think she might have taken the name as a sign."

"That's a.. that's a lot of satin." And tulle. Javier pressed out, still suppressing his laughter and barely succeeding. He could have pointed out that the mass of ruffles negated any absence of actual puff sleeves, but thought it better to refrain. And it wasn't like she hadn't looked beautiful as a bride, it was more that in that ruffled satin-and-tulle concoction she looked like an unwilling dress-up doll, despite the tasteful off-the-shoulder cut and flattering waistline. It was just... there were a lot of ruffles. There was a lot of dress, period. Paired with an expression that was better suited to a funeral, the effect was almost morbidly comedic.

"Wait till I show you the cake; we were basically identical." It was the dryness of her tone that set him off. There was no suppressing it now, Javier was bellowing, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. It didn't help that the dress fashion hadn't really strayed very far from the 'bigger and more style' in the years since. All things considered, this was a comparatively simple gown, lacking the mass of sparkly appliqués and abundance of bows and flowers that had been popular in the latter years of the previous decade. It just wasn't a style that suited her personality in any way, at all. Her slender figure was absolutely drowned in the sheer volume of the skirt alone. Hell, it completely overshadowed the already forgettable man standing by her side in the photo. Though 'by her side' was a generous descriptor. There was definitely enough space for the Holy Spirit and then some between the couple.

"My mother spent ages on that damn dress. Her hands looked like pincushions by the time she was done; that's why she wore gloves to the wedding."

"She's a seamstress, right? Your mother?" She'd mentioned it in an offhand comment during one of their previous phone calls.

"She was." Diana confirmed, tucking the picture away again. "Didn't think you'd remember that."

"Of course. I listen to everything you tell me."

Diana chuckled, flushing lightly. "It's not even relevant to the case!"

"I listen to everything you tell me." Javier insisted and started gathering up wrapping paper and such to throw away. A quick look at his watch told him they'd have to get moving soon if they wanted to make it to the theatre on time to get decent seats.

"Right." Diana collected her things to stuff them back into her bag. "So it's a no for ruffles, but what would you have me wear, Agent Peña? What do you think suits me?"

Javier couldn't have told even the most skilled interrogation expert what exactly compelled him to answer, and so readily at that, why he had an opinion at the ready in the first place, or at least that's what he preferred to tell himself.

"I think... something soft and flowy, not a whole lot of embellishments, if any. Clear lines and a light fabric, something you can dance in and be comfortable. Definitely no more satin."

She laughed now, as well, eyes twinkling with what he thought was approval. "You are full of surprises. Should I ever get married again, I'll most certainly engage your services as designer, Agent Peña."

"I'll keep a spot open for you. First consultation is free."

---

How her hand can feel so natural there in the crook of his elbow after hardly a day, he cannot tell. All he knows is that by the time the reading at the open air theatre is done the sun has started to dip in the sky and if this was what his work was like more often he'd perhaps be happier in his workaholic ways. Though they haven't broached the topic of work in hours now, instead ambling half-aimlessly northward towards Conquistadores where he's parked his rental car at the hotel he's staying at. Because it is a long way to Envigado and he insisted on driving her home. Because even though now that Escobar is gone Medellín is much safer, but he's never been one to easily trust a good thing.

It's only when they've crossed the big main street Avenida 33 that Miss Rivas gets quieter. She's obviously tired following their prolonged outing, but he instantly misses the pleasant hum of her voice, her clever little observations- At the same time, it's a comfortable silence, not one weighed down by expectation. She'd even let down her hair from where it had been up in a ponytail for most of the day, most likely to keep the thick curtain of it away from her neck in the heat and sun.

They're just crossing a smaller square, the edge of it lined with shops, the hole-in-the-wall kind mostly, when she suddenly pulls away with a soft instruction to wait there for just a moment, and he's left to look after her flapping skirt with what is probably not the most dignified expression. Defeated, he sat down on the broad edge of a flowerbed nearby and watched her cross to a food vendor, order, and fish around for her wallet to pay, before turning around again with a plastic cup in each hand. Fresas con crema, he can make out upon her approach, and one corner of his mouth ticks up involuntarily.

"Hungry again?" He teased when she got within earshot, handing him one cup and setting the other down beside him along with her purse.

"There's always space for this in my stomach." She retorted primly. "If you don't want any, all the better."

"Thank you for the generous offer, but no. Thanks for this." He makes a show of cupping the treat protectively, fully knowing he'll have to set it down to unwrap the plastic spoon that came with it. It makes her laugh nonetheless, which imbues him with a strange, fluttery sense of accomplishment.

She's still standing, head thrown back and grinning wide, when her gaze catches on something at the far end of the plaza, and her expression morphs from glee to astonishment to rage so quickly it gives Javier whiplash.

"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!" Ripping off her glasses and thrusting them into his hands, she began stalking off.

Two things are fortuitous: one, she had to pass Javier to get to whatever she saw and two, his reflexes are still sharp enough for him to jump up and into her path, even having managed to safely deposit the cup of strawberries and cream.

"Whoa, what the hell is it?"

"I- ...she-" Her voice is strained, her whole body taut like a livewire as she attempts to round him and resume her warpath. On instinct, Javier took a few steps backwards, keeping himself between her and her target. It's only his hands on her shoulders that stall her enough for him to be able to whip his head around and follow her eyeline. That side of the square is empty save for an older lady shuffling along, huffing and puffing and blissfully unaware of the wrathful freight train about to rush her. To say Javier was puzzled would be an understatement.

"What, her? The old woman?"

"That's Hermilda Escobar!" She's shaking so much he has trouble keeping a grip on her. "Look at her! The nerve of that woman to show her face here-" She winds out from under his hands, rounding him with a quick sidestep, and he can only match her speed because his legs are longer.

"Hey!" Javier whisper-shouts to be met with flashing eyes, then repeats it more softly. "Hey. What exactly are you planning to do here, huh?"

"I'm gonna give that self-righteous bitch a piece of my mind is what I'm gonna do!" She retorted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It's cowing, the single-minded purpose rolling off of her. She's strumming with it, her seething damn near tangible. In her rage, she is ruthless. Javier had no doubt, in that moment, that once let go she might well maul the woman with more than words.

It's instinctive, the way his arm wraps around her. Like the few times he's had to restrain Steve and yet not like that at all. For one Javier doesn't have to go for a near chokehold, though energy-wise her wrath is at least as fierce. So, he wraps one long arm around her waist, hauling her much slighter body against his with a half-turn, her forearms colliding sharply with his chest.

"Easy." He rumbles, his other arm coming up to fold across her shoulders. "Easy. Calm down. Calm down!"

Palms smack against his pectorals and it stings. "Hey!" He tightens his hold around her trembling body, her angry, anguished squirming. Softens his voice. "Hey. Calm down, okay? What're you gonna do, beat up that old woman in the street? Come on, breathe."

The sound that comes out of her is something very closely related to a snarl, and he feels the bite of her nails even through his shirt, but holds fast, continuing to ramble empty phrases with the intent to soothe, or at least distract.

"If you tell me to calm down one more time I will get violent." She promised, hands pushing into his chest in an effort to break his hold. The old woman has almost passed by completely by now, seeming blissfully unaware of the savaging she's escaping. Javier held fast, as tight as he dared, the hand still pinching the pair of glasses between two fingers awkwardly patting at her shoulder while he sways them both, rocking from foot to foot.

By the time Diana has calmed down enough that he feels comfortable loosening his hold, the old woman is long gone from view. He feels her slump in his grip, reflexively tightening his arms again to hold her up.

"Hey," he gentles, lightly nudging the side of her head and thinking, distantly, that all but burying his nose into her soft hair is far too intimate a position for any of this. "Hey, it's alright, I've got you, okay? I've got you."

They're still swaying on the spot, a gentle see-saw motion, and then he felt the hands that had been clenching and unclenching on his chest lose all tension and drop down to the side. She's still shaking, her whole ribcage jumping with the hiccup of suppressed sobs. Somehow, he maneuvers them both around and back the few steps from where their snack and her purse still wait beside the flowerbed.

"Why'd you hand me these, anyway?" It's but a cheap distraction tactic, Javier handed her the glasses back as soon as she sat nevertheless.

"I'm not blind without them." Diana responded tersely, snatching the glasses and cleaning the lenses with the hem of her dress. When she doesn't deign to elaborate, he sighs and stretches from where he'd sat back on his haunches in front of her, resuming his earlier seat and finally unwrapping the spoon. It's a tense silence for a long moment, her aggravation like a pulse around them. Certainly it gives Javier a good bit to think on.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"Don't condescend to me. You may have been closer to the action, but I've lived here all my life." She ripped open her own packet with a vengeance, digging the spoon into her own portion with such force that the sliced strawberries bleed into the white cream. Javier sighed. Took a moment to order his words before they leave his tongue.

"I just need to know if this," he gestured between her and the edge of the square, "is going to be something that has to be taken into account. I need to know that you're not just in this for revenge. I need to know where you're at mentally. I need to be sure, both for your own safety and the integrity of this operation, that you're not just going to snap one day and try to claw Miguel Rodríguez' eyes out, okay?"

She chews angrily a moment, eyes flashing at him before she stares straight ahead again. The wrath is still rolling off of her in waves, perhaps dipping a bit in its intensity, but far from dulling just yet.

"You want to know my motivations, is that it? Well, let me lay it out for you, Agent Peña: of my entire class, a third never even made it to graduation, for one reason or another. I spent my youth plotting routes around gunfights in the street, with just enough success to still be alive, somehow. My mother was caught in the crossfire of a raid and was afraid to leave the house for years afterwards. My father was on that Avianca flight. My baby cousin Maritza is dead and her baby will grow up without her mother. And throughout it all, I took the coward's way out, moved cities, for university, for work, for marriage, for myself even, and everywhere I went they were, too. The narcos have spun their spider's web across the whole damn country and beyond and sooner or later everyone gets stuck in it. I got stuck in it despite my best efforts, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of having to flee and turning up in dead ends. Somehow I have landed in this unique position, and I refuse to join them. Is that enough motivation for you, Agent Peña?"

She held his gaze, a challenge in fire, and he wondered how much longer that adrenaline surge would sustain her before she crashed. Wordlessly, he nodded his affirmation.

It's more tense silence after that, thick like stew or the humidity out in the jungle. She doesn't reach for him again as they resume the walk up to his hotel, doesn't casually link their arms like before, choosing instead to fidget with the handles of her bag. He hates it, misses the lightness the day had before. These narcos, they really do poison even the most mundane of things with their long, bloodied shadows. When they get to the hotel's underground garage, she's gone even more quiet, almost deflated. There are no more words exchanged, save for the clipped directions to her aunt's house. At one point, Javier was almost certain she'd dozed off.

---

"Do you ever think you should have been there? When they finally got him?" He'd just parked the car opposite of the house. It's almost completely dark outside by now.

"...Yes." Of course he did. He'd wanted, even needed to. The temporary suspension had not been near as effective a punishment as denying him that. The fruits of his labor, of years spent chasing after shadows and getting himself mired deeper and deeper, until he barely recognized himself when he looked in the mirror. He'd wanted it, sure, but perhaps he hadn't deserved it.

"Why did they send you home?" It's not that Javier is in a particularly obstinate mood, it's just that after the incident earlier, he's reluctant to bring up his own involvement with the cartels of Calí and Medellín, much less Los Pepes, so he gives a non-committal grunt in response. He should have known that wouldn't deter her. "When I first called, Agent Murphy said you had been recalled to the States. I only found out later that that was before they finally got Escobar. Why would a top agent on a case of this magnitude be pulled off and sent back before that?"

"You mean what did I do?" She nodded. There was no getting out of it now. He didn't want to lie to her either. Javier sighed, scratching his thumbnail across his brow. "You're going to look at me differently."

"Perhaps, yes." She took a deep breath, rummaging through her purse and producing a folded up paper. "These are the names of some American banks that I'm very certain help funnel and launder Calí's money. Sorry it's nothing more specific." She placed the paper in his hand, gently closing his fingers over it. "Whatever you tell me, we're in this together, right? We both want to bring them down. I trust you, alright?"

Javier gulped, his fingers tingling under her touch. He pockets the paper to buy time, if only to swallow through his suddenly-too-dry throat. And then he tells her. The dead ends and the crippling bureaucracy, Don Berna, the Castaño brothers and Judy Moncada and Pacho Herrera. His desperate grasping at straws to find a way, any way to throw a wrench in the escalating violence and catch Escobar, how that backfired so spectacurlarly. How he tried to get out, despite knowing that these people do not allow outs. How he'd been played by the fucking CIA because he'd been an idiot falsely believing that the two agencies were operating under even remotely the same objectives. How he'd gone down, almost taking his partner with him, definitely tanking his boss' career. He hasn't spoken to anybody about this in such depth, not even his father. By the end of it, he's exhausted.

"So you're the one Carlos Castaño wanted to feed to the crocodiles."

"What?" He'd expected judgement, even disgust. Certainly not this.

"I overheard Gilberto mentioning it on the phone. I think he must have just learned that you'd be the DEA's man in charge. 'Maybe I should have let you feed that damn DEA agent to the crocodiles after all, Carlos.' The door wasn't all the way closed, that's how I heard it. I think that was the moment I realized I couldn't wind my way out of this. That either they were going down, or they were going to find out that I was already talking to Agent Murphy and have me... vanished."

"I won't let that happen." Javier promised instinctively, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "Crocodiles though? Really?" Not how he thought he'd end, that was for certain.

"Yeah, they're very uh... charming, huh?"

Javier grimaced. "If I never see any of them again, it'll be too soon."

"Knock on wood." Diana replied and unbuckled herself, pushing open the door.

"I'll walk you. It's dark."

"It's only across the street." She protested, and was that the ghost of a smile on her lips? Javier's hands stilled on his own seatbelt.

"You sure?"

"If my aunt catches me coming home with a man I'll never hear the end of it." Diana slipped out of the car, then bent to grab her purse. "Good night, Agent Peña. Until next time."

"Good night, Miss Rivas."

He waited until she was inside, the door securely locked behind her, before starting the drive back.

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Chapter 3

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Author’s note cont’d: if you wanna know what I had in mind, approximately, for the wedding gown see here

The International Poetry Festival of Medellín is a real thing, too. They have a youtube channel

#narcos (tv)#javier pena x ofc #series #I cling to your lips like gloss (series)#multipart #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña fanfic #my writing #part 2 #like gloss tag

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

Text

Kingdom Collisions II

I've just finished a book and it made me cry so happily I thought I'd post a fanfic to commemorate it. Also I'm probably going to start an AWAE/AoGG account soon because I cannot fathom living my life without a space dedicated to my darling loves. Anyway that isn't relevant to the post. This is just a fun little fic I've been writing on the side to try incorporate more descriptions into my writing (I'm a known dialogue whore). I see fit to write it whenever I feel like, so updates may be far and few between, however I do hope you enjoy whatever does come out. I adore this moody ansgty side to jercy. It's been fun to explore.

Masterlist, cat-eye aquamarine

Leave me alone.

[we have known loneliness forever]

Why did I ever agree to this?

[so we do not quite know what it is like]

I never asked you to say yes!

[to want]

Fuck you.

[one another]

-lonliness is a two-sided conversation//badpoetry

Percy doesn't even look at his husband. Doesn't acknowledge his perfect hair, or blazing eyes, or how close they're sitting. He just stares directly out the car window, arms folded across his chest. The rolling hills and wild lavender dance past his vision as the car bounces along the gravel road. They are almost to their destination, to solid ground and quiet, peace. Despite the circumstances he is excited to be back at the cabin his family has owned for so many years. He relishes in the fact that he can escape somewhere that is untainted by the rest of his life. Throngs of people, and public demand, and never ending scrutiny.

He is nothing short of pissed that he has to share his safe place with someone he despises so sweetly it is honey on his tongue to talk to them. But his mother had insisted if they were to act like a married couple they would have to go on a honeymoon and he had only agreed if he could choose the place. She wanted to send them to some private beach in Spain where they could pretend to be alone, oblivious to the paparazzi that were sure to follow, and the people who wanted to meet not one but two crown princes. It was his final stance that if he were being forced to spend time with his husband, it would at least be where he could enjoy it.

"Prince," A crackling voice says through the speakers.

Percy clicks a button on the arm rest, "Yes Mr James?"

"The security team has secured the area, would you like us to drop the bags off before you head inside or after?"

"Whenever suits you Mr James, I'm going for a walk."

Jason who had since then, fallen asleep, jolts awake as they go over a particularly bumpy area.

"And your husband Prince?"

"Ask him yourself, I'm sure he has much to say on the matter." Percy huffs, turning away.

"Prince Grace,"

Jason glares at Percy unimpressed with his dismissal and his rudeness towards the driver.

"Yes James sir?"

"Would you like your bags dropped off before or after you enter the area?"

"Before please, I feel it will help me settle in much easier if everything is already there."

Percy wants to scoff, who talks like that? This pretentious, stuck-up, goodie two-shoes is who. He wants to stick his tongue out, settle their rivalry like five year olds battling to see who can scowl for longer. Mostly, desperately he just wants to get out of this damn car. His leg bounces in time with the bumps, and his hands fidget in his lap. For all his princely training nobody ever managed to get him to sit perfectly still. His mother had finally given up and started carrying drawing pads and pencils wherever she went.

"Can you stop moving!" Jason growls.

"If it bothers you so much get out and walk." He spits back.

An eye roll is the reply but by then the car finally rumbles to a stop and a security detail is opening their doors.

"Princes,"

"Thank you Madison, Arlo." He manages to grit before he stomps off down the path and disappears into the woods.

"Where are you going?" He hears his husband yell. He doesn't bother to reply, someone will tell the Prince.

He kicks at the dark soil and pulls breath after breath into his lungs. He needs to calm down. Just then his ears catch the soft bubbling of a stream and he heads in the direction of the noise. The woods are quiet and cool. A soft breeze flutters between velvety leaves and needled pines, stirring the undergrowth. He wants to become one with the trees, become a branch that sways in greeting and grows friends, and feels the wind wrapping around it every evening. He just wants to stop being human for a little while.

And then the stream is underneath him, soaking his fancy shoes and fine thread socks. He laughs, tugs them off and sits down in the middle of the cold, flowing water. He can feel it run into him like ice in his veins. He dips a finger in, then another, his whole hand and shudders at the smooth caress. It has been so long since he just got to be. Here in this little stream, pants soaking, hands turning blue he has never felt so faraway, out of his body. The world narrows to his fingertips, to the bead of water running down his ankle and joining its family once more. His brain is far and long forgotten, simply taking up space in his skull. He decides right then and there that if he ever comes back to this world he'll come back as a rock in the stream. To live in this beautiful, ever-moving world, where the cold is a kiss and you can never meet the same drop of water twice seems a good life indeed.

Just then he hears a rustle behind him. In an instant he’s on his feet, pulling a dagger from his suit jacket, a white-knuckled grip on the hilt.

"Whoever you are come out right now. I am not in the mood."

"Relax," A deep smooth voice says, "It's just me."

"Oh," He pulls his lips up in half disappointment, half relief it wasn't danger. "What do you want?"

"Mr James wants to know if you want five or ten of the guards here for the remainder of the time here."

"I want zero." He frowned, "I just want to be left in peace for the next few days."

"Well it's not an option so choose." Practical, always so practical.

"Leave five here, there's three other cabins about half a mile out on either side of ours that should be enough space. Everyone else can go home."

"Of course, I'll leave you to it then." Jason nods, stands there awkwardly for a moment longer and then disappears into the greenery once more.

Percy doesn't know what to do, doesn't know whether he should scream or cry or laugh.

He hadn't let himself think too hard about the events of the last few weeks. He had shoved every feeling but contempt and general dislike deep deep down into his cage and threw the key into the deepest parts of his ocean of thoughts. He wasn't sure he had the strength to unpack everything that had happened. When his mother had came to him all those weeks ago a heartbroken look in her eyes he knew whatever had happened would be nothing short of a disaster. Within the week he was promised to Crown Prince Jason Grace of Caelum and had been shoved into endless, meetings in which wedding arrangements and economic agreements had to be made.

He didn't even meet the Prince till the night before they were to be wed but by then Percy had despised the whole ordeal so intensely he hadn't any happiness or hope left in him to be kind to the Prince. And even if he did gave some it would have vanished completely upon their introduction. Jason looked at him with such calculating authority he had reminded Percy of an old tutor who thought children should be seen and not heard, and learn whatever was given to them without question. Jason had been stiff, and unyielding, and looked just as unhappy or even unhappier to be meeting him. At dinner Jason only spoke when spoken too, he didn't fidget even once, and worst of all he somehow still managed to charm his mother in about five seconds. One dimpled smile, and a cute story about his first time riding a horse and Queen Sally Jackson had accepted him as one of their own. Percy on the other hand was ignored the entire dinner, and on the walk in the gardens, at the insistence of his advisor, they hardly said two words to each other. Whether it was because Jason was lost in his own world or letting his displeasure for the whole ordeal simmer and burn into their company as Percy was he would never know. Either way the walk ended with a gruff, formal goodbye before they headed to their rooms.

Percy shuts out the politics of the arrangement and how his life has turned into this unrecognizable hurricane of chaos. He cups some of water in his hands and drops it over his curls. Letting it drip down his temples and catch on his collarbones. The coolness soothes him, as water has always done. Finally when his blood is no longer boiling with hidden anger he steps out of the stream, picking up his discarded shoes and socks and sinks into the earth with each step.

The cabin has a soft orange glow in the windows, and the many cars that escorted them have disappeared. He throws his belongings by the door, shucks his pants off and steps inside. The interior is just as he remembers it. Where the castle was dripping with opulence and royalty, the cabin was simple and stripped to the bare essentials. He had always loved the place. Even when he was little and his mom would whisk him away for a secret weekend. She would pack hoards of cookies and ice-cream and light the fire immediately. They would sit on the soft, fleece rug, her with a book and him with his sketchpad, sipping cocoa and spooning ice cream straight from the tub. Then he didn't have to be the prince one day inheriting the crown and she didn't have to be the Queen dealing with every problem under the sun. They hadn't been back in a good few years and he misses everything about the space. He is silently grateful that Jason has lit the fire. Something familiar to hold onto.

"You're back." The Golden Prince says.

"Astute observation." He rolls his eyes but the blonde doesn't look up from whatever he's doing.

Percy walks into the space, shrugging his suit jacket off and unbuttoning his wrinkled white shirt. He hears a sharp inhale and glances up to see a red cheeked Jason staring at him.

"Why aren't you wearing any pants?"

"Oh," He laughs softly, "Yea they were wet so I took them off before I came in."

He sputters and blushes, glancing down and then peaking back up again.

"You alright there Prince?"

Jason clears his throat, and Percy watches that golden Adam's apple bob. His skin prickles with heat and he knows its time to go.

"I'm going to shower. I'll give you a tour afterwards if you want."

"That would be great."

With a nod in which they both avoid eye contact and general pleasantry he disappears into one of the three rooms of the cabin.

His shower is scorching, water pummeling against tired muscles. His mother always says a good shower and steaming cup of tea can fix more problems than a board of professionals. So far she hasn't been wrong.

"Hey," He walks back into the lounge sometime later, looking down as he ties the string on his pants, "You ready?"

The house is dead quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and the soft wind that whispers in the grooves of the floor.

"Jason?" He frowns, moving to stand in front of him.

The Prince is fast asleep, head lolling forward, book still clasped in his hands. Percy takes in his husband for the first time. Unobstructed by either of their waking emotions, or the general hustling that had shrouded their lives. Jason, he grudgingly admits, is beautiful. His hair looks soft and golden, and when it catches the light of the fire he's sure it's made from sunshine itself. And his skin is such a startling contrast to Percy's rich brown colour. The Prince's body, now folded into an awkward bent angle as he lay across the velvet-cushioned chair, is lithe and graceful. Corded with muscle but somehow still smooth in a way only an uptight Prince with a personal trainer may ever achieve. At least, he thinks sordidly, if I'm forced to marry someone he is as darling as Jason.

The blonde stirs softly, hand twitching, before he settles back into his position. As awkward and unhappy the two are with each other Percy can't leave him here. He's sure the Prince will bend into a chair himself if he slept like that all night long. So he gently taps his husband's shoulder, waking him almost immediately. Jason has never been a particularly heavy sleeper, and it is worse when he finds himself in a place he doesn't know. He blinks up at the world, blue eyes bright. They reminds Percy of the cat-eye aquamarine, the gemstone sat at the base of every crown ever made for his kingdom. He wonders what it says that the colour of his husband's eyes are also the colour he most associates with home. Just as quickly he expels those thoughts, content to bask in his clear dispassion and irritation for as long as this should last.

Jason scrubs a hand over his face, "Sorry you wanted to take me on a tour?"

"No, no there's time for that tomorrow. Why don't you head up to bed."

"Oh, okay. Goodnight then,"

"Goodnight Prince," He says stiffly.

"Sleep easy."

A nod in return and they both retire to their rooms, content to put the last week far behind them. Bury it under dreams, and hopes, and the promise of a tomorrow where nothing has tarnished it yet.

Percy left his window open, watched the tree outside it sway gently. Maybe tomorrow he would climb it and become acquainted with the birds in the nest.

He falls asleep, finally, to the chirp of crickets and the soft rustle of whispering leaves.

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

Text

Dragon Dancer II: Chapter 3: Sons of Raj

“You’re not bad!” Robertson passed me the basketball.

I caught it easily, dribbling in place. “I’m used to people being taller than me, it comes with the territory of being short.”

I wasn’t supposed to be outside, but I’d made so much headway on the translation project, that I could afford a day off. Ielia rapidly corrected EVA’s errors and clarified context. We were more than halfway through and it had only been ten days.

The tale was an epic one. An Indian warrior who was strong and deadly, but wise and compassionate so that he gathered a huge following and spread his rule throughout the land of India. His name was Raj Yamir. The text praised him for his handsomeness, his humility, and his intelligence. The entire text seemed to be about him.

Master List

Robertson made sure everything was safe, before allowing me outside where he’d jerry-rigged a hoop on a tall oak tree.

“You play basketball with Johann yet?” He asked.

“Yeah a bit, but,” I wrinkled my nose. “He’s too nervous to be competitive so… it’s not very fun.”

Robertson laughed. “You understand though. Can’t get too rough with your girlfriend out on the court.”

“Yeah well, that means we don’t play.” I put the ball under my arm, sticking out my tongue. “I play with Lu. He’s not as good though.”

Robertson looked up at the hoop, running his hands through his hair in nostalgia. “Yeah, me and Tianjiao Chu used to play all the time, all the time.” He wiped his brow. “He ain’t as good as his dad, that’s for sure.”

“You knew his dad?” I caught my breath, not expecting this.

“Oh yeah! Me and Chu go way back!” He knitted his brow.

“Hold the phone! Tell me! Tell me! What was his dad like?” I ran up to him.

“He was like Johann… but more fun. Guy liked Irish music, sappy ol’ movies. Serious about his work but … not much else. Dude was hilarious.” He laughed at a memory I couldn’t see. “In fact, Lemme show you somethin’”

We went to go sit on a concrete bench. He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled for a while through it. “Ah… here it is. Here’s your boy.”

As soon as I took a look at it, I inhaled sharply. It was Johann as a child in a beanie and little mittens and coat, looking overjoyed at a snowman. “It’s a baby JOHANN!” I squealed, snatching the phone. “He’s so CUTE! OH MY GOD!”

Robertson was cackling at my reaction. I couldn’t help myself. “Look at his cheeks! And his cute little smile. Awwwwwwww! He’s cuuuute!” He looked at Robertson, holding the phone to myself. “Can you send this to me? Please?! Please?! I won’t show it to anyone else!”

“Sure… sure, sure, sure…” His chuckle turned mischievous.

I handed him his phone back. “Johann said you were with the Executive Department for a long time but I did not put two and two together that you worked with his dad!” I looked up at him. “He had a lot of good things to say about you.”

He blinked down at me.

“I mean, Johann did. I didn’t know his dad.”

“Oh… right…” He cleared his throat. “Uh… Do you have any questions for me?”

“We don’t… talk about our parents very much. I know his dad died.”

He sent the picture to my device. “Yeah, I was really shocked about that. The man was unbelievable with a blade. Super experienced. So… it really caught me off guard. Even after all these years. Can’t quite believe it.”

“What happened is… probably classified.”

“Very.” He gave me wide eyes. “But… I can tell you. Johann was there when it did.”

“He saw it happen.” I whispered, my brain imagined what it must have been like, empathy growing in my heart, along with my horror.

“My only thought is… whatever happened, Tianjiao probably had to put himself in an impossible situation to save his boy… that’s all I could think of that would make sense.”

I turned away. That made a lot of sense. I didn’t know all the circumstances, but it reminded me of a lot of children in foster whose parents died, or nearly died of overdoses. Even though they were young and they were unaware of their parents’ deadly habits, they blamed themselves for what happened. Johann couldn’t be any different.

Indeed, I blamed myself occasionally for my Robbie’s death, for skipping too far into the future and not being there to save him. It was ridiculous, but that was just the way the mind worked.

“Thank you for telling me.”

He moved to pocket his phone when it buzzed. He held it to his ear. “Robertson.” He stood up. “Carli, go to the saferoom. Now!”

His commanding voice jolted me and I stood there a second, registering the sudden urgency in his voice.

I ran inside, shoving the door open so hard it swung into the wall with a bang. I ran upstairs to retrieve the laptop.

The safe room was an underfloor bunker that was resistant to all forms of scanning and explosive devices and had enough food for three days. It also had two wall mounted monitors patched into the camera equipment outside.

The property was being swarmed in broad daylight by a dozen masked motorcyclists. They were armed with automatic rifles. The images cycled and I saw Agent Lavigne standing there to meet them, two dead men at his feet. He was wearing what appeared to be a blue bandana around his neck.

EVAs voice emerged from the monitors. “Agent Lavigne has gone rogue. You are not safe here.”

I saw Robertson jogging around the large house. He was going to Lavigne. My blood ran cold. He didn’t know.

I focused on the monitor image of Lavigne. I stood up. I closed my eyes.

I vanished into the dark.

When I emerged, Lavigne was standing over the bodies of his two fellow agents, raising his automatic rifle towards Robertson. He recognized my presence from the corner of his eye and turned to point the gun at me, but it was too late. I pushed him with everything in me.

But he only staggered.

He smashed the rifle into my chest. I felt the strange sensation of something inside me caving under the blow. I fell to the ground, breathless, nauseous, pain like fireworks going off. I wrapped my arms around myself, gasping.

Robertson was roaring, firing his pistol. But the bullets embedded in a wall of thick water, like jelly. It splashed to the ground, taking the bullets with it. Robertson ducked behind the corner of the building. The other gunmen had arrived.

Lavigne turned his cold, golden eyes on me. On his bandana, I saw a clear symbol of a serpent, forming the letter S followed by an R.

I squeezed my eyes shut and vanished. I appeared again, staggering with the agony, where Robertson was hiding. He looked at me, stunned. I couldn’t talk to tell him how I could do this. I grabbed his hand. I vanished with him into the dark.

We re-emerged into the hotel room I had stayed in, the one Anjou had booked for me. Fortunately, it was empty. I collapsed to the floor, raising my voice in anguish. Crying hurt, breathing hurt. But I couldn’t stop doing either.

Robertson held me down, swearing repeatedly. He still had his phone which he dialed cradling it between his ear and shoulder. He ripped my flimsy shirt down the middle, examining my injuries.

“Schneider, we’ve been compromised. Lavigne was a traitor. Meixiu was injured. Looks to be two… maybe three broken ribs.”

A pause.

“Sir. I’m not one to make excuses but she popped out of thin air and tried to tackle the guy!”

His eyes were glittering with fury. “I told you to go to the safe room…” He hissed at me. But that was the extent of the scolding. He immediately calmed. I’d saved his life and he knew it.

“We’re… in a hotel. Sir. I…” He fought for words. “...again, I don’t know. You don’t know she can teleport? Well she can!” He looked at me. “Where are we…?”

“I can’t remember... “ I sobbed and moaned at the same time.

He stood up and left me. I heard him reading off the name of the hotel. He returned, still on the phone, picking me up and settling me on the bed. “It’s just a matter of time before someone finds out we’re here. I’ll put a notice on the Night Watch to get this room.”

“She’s in a lot of pain. We need to get a doctor here before someone comes in asking too many questions.”

After a few more moments, he hung up. He regarded me, kneeling next to me. I held my breath, tears rolling from my eyes.

I felt his hand on my bare shoulder, lightly rubbing my arms. “EVA uploaded your work and wiped your PC. Don’t worry, we got what we needed.”

I nodded, experimentally breathing in slightly. I was shuddering, pale, and sweating. I wanted to throw up.

“We’ve got a doctor comin’... You’re calming down… good…”

The twenty minutes it took for the doctor to arrive felt like a lifetime. In the meantime, Robertson continued to massage my arms, keeping me calm, talking to me. The doctor administered morphine and the horrible aching was whisked away. Breathing never felt so good.

The men’s voice sounded distant as they performed an X-ray right on the spot. I tried to listen but they were speaking French. Eventually, the man left us alone.

“They’re broken, but not badly. You’ll recover just fine.” He shook his head in wonder. “You crazy girl.”

“Why?...” I asked. “What happened to Lavigne?”

“Lavigne is part of a terrorist group calling themselves Sons of Raj. They’re hybrids. They’re scattered throughout the world and protect Leviathan. We were keeping our heads down once we found the palace but… eventually they were going to find out…. Never thought they had moles in Cassell though.” He stroked my hair. “Never thought that Lavigne… Damn. How could he hide something like that for so long…?”

Robertson returned his thoughts to me. “We’re going to get you out of here. Your injury isn’t bad enough to stop your work. We are going to move you closer to the palace itself in Mumbai.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Are you serious?” I whispered, wide eyed.

“No one can do the translation as fast or as accurately as you. You’re the Asset. There is no other.”

#Johann Chu #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing

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carriedawayfromhome · 5 years

Text

Schedule - L.H/A.I

Part 2

Count: 2.1K

Summary: Ashton and Luke are married and Luke is concerned that they have become too predictable, so he comes up with a plan to help them.

Rating: Explicit

Masterlist

This is a second part to a series, it can be read as a stand alone, but is best if you start with Part 1 - click here!

A few days had passed since Luke had suggested the challenge of spicing up their sex life and as he sat at his desk in the office he worked at his mind raced with ideas to try and win this so called competition. He was trying to think up things that hopefully hadn’t even come to Ashton’s attention. He tapped his pen against his desk, leaning back in his chair, it was hard to think of something new as they had tried a lot of different things prior to their vanilla spell.

“Mr Hemmings,” A voice boomed above him, making him jump, his eyes darting upwards to see his boss looming over him, “Looks like you’re working really hard here, time for a promotion hey?”

Luke forced a smile, scooting his chair forward, “Sorry sir, got distracted and it's Mr Irwin now.”

His boss clicked his teeth at Luke, “I do not care about your personal life just get back to work.”

Luke sighed as he waited for the familiar sound of his boss walking away from him before he leant back in his chair once more, thoughts automatically going back to his plan. He had a few ideas in his head that he thought could work, he now just had to put them into motion.

Ashton was just finishing up at his job at the coffee shop, wiping down all surfaces, humming a light tune to keep him occupied. His mind had also been going through ideas since the other night, not that there were any rules to this challenge, but he assumed that he would let his husband pick the next idea, so he didn’t feel the need to quickly arrange anything. Whenever he did think of a rather scandalous idea a little bout of arousal would shoot through him, picturing his beautiful tall husband in compromising situations. He had a (hopefully) secret note on his phone with a few little ideas here and there, one did include a butt plug and the idea made his heart beat faster, but he pushed that to the bottom of the list for now, maybe work their way up to that.

Ashton throws the tea towel he had been using to wipe over the tables across his shoulder, looking around the shop to ensure everything was neat and put away, he was the last one left on this shift tonight. He turns to grab his stuff from out the back when the very familiar sight of shiny blonde curls catches his eye from outside the window.

Ashton walks over to the door, opening it slightly, “Sorry sir, we’re closed.” He jokes, leaning his body against the door frame, “What are you doing here honey? I’m just closing up now.”

Luke smiles at him, “I thought I would come surprise you, whisk you away for some dinner by the lake?” He holds up the bags in his hands, head cocked cutely to one side.

“That sounds fantastic baby, I’ll go lock up and I’ll meet you out back okay?”

After double checking everything is as it should be, Ashton makes his way out the back to where Luke is resting against the car, arms open wide ready for Ashton to fit right in. As he lets himself be held by his husband, grateful that he is much smaller than the younger man, Luke leans down to place a swift kiss on Ashton’s forehead.

“How was your day sweetheart?” Luke mumbles into Ashton’s hair, arms still wrapped securely around his shoulders.

Ashton shrugs, “Nothing too special, was just thinking about you for most of the day.”

Luke smiles to himself, feeling a very light blush form on his cheeks, “I was thinking about you too Ash,” He pulls back so he’s looking at Ashton, “So, how about that dinner then?”

Both men hope in the car, Luke pulling out of the back lot of the coffee shop and heading west towards the lake. They’ve been there quite a few times, especially around this time of year, it’s quite secluded and just a peaceful place to relax.

After pulling up to lake, both men jump out, Luke holding onto the bits and pieces he grabbed for dinner, nothing too crazy, just something to nibble on before they head home. Luke walks behind Ashton as he picks a table to sit at, plonking himself down and holding his arms out, ready to dig into the food Luke has purchased.

They sit and eat their food, chatting on about their day and how much Luke can’t stand his boss and how Ashton has one female customer who continually flirts with him even after he told her he was gay.

Luke laughs, trying not to spit out his food, “Aww Ash! Can you blame her though? You’re just too cute.” He finishes his sentence with a wink.

Ashton shakes his head, licking his fingers of residue dinner, “Stop it you. But seriously, she doesn’t stop! It’s like I have to yell it out that I like dick or something!”

Luke giggles more, letting himself sit back, having finished all the food in front of him. He looks around to the scenery, the lake sitting very still, shining off the sun as it starts to set. Luke looks back to Ashton ready to bring his idea into action.

He lets Ashton finish his own food, the older man settling back comfortably, eyes closing as a light breeze flows through. Luke gets up and walks around the permanent picnic table, sitting himself down right next to Ashton, his hand lightly settling on Ashton’s crotch. The older man’s eyes open, narrowing at the sight in front of him.

“Well, don’t stop on my account.” Ashton whispers, nodding at Luke to continue on. The curly haired man palms the denim, eyes never leaving Ashton’s as he leans forward towards his lips, only to lean further down, placing a few quick kisses on his collarbone.

“I have an idea.” Luke whispers.

“Oh yeah?” Ashton’s arms have already encircled Luke, fingers running up and down his back, “Another idea for the challenge then?”

Luke leans back, now looking at Ashton face to face, “Yes indeed sir.”

Ashton smiles at Luke and tugs him forward, kissing him hard, pushing his tongue in immediately, Luke whines underneath his touch, with lips still on lips Ashton opens his eyes and scans around seeing no one else parked near him. He knows this is meant to be Luke’s idea, but he just wanted to have a taste first. He cups Luke’s face in his hands, moving rhythmically against each other. He breathes in deeply, letting the scent of the younger man surround him, intoxicate him almost.

A minute or so later Luke pulls back, dizzy written all over him.

Luke frowns lightly, “This is my idea, not yours,” He pokes his tongue out and Ashton leans forward quickly to take it into his mouth, sucking at it before pulling back,“Silly.”

“Okay sorry babe, go ahead, it’s your turn.”

Luke nods with authority standing up so he’s looking down on his husband, “Strip.”

Ashton’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull, a cough escaping, “Wow babe, okay, right here right now?”

Luke nods, hands gripping to peel his own t-shirt off, letting it fall to the ground, “I want to go skinny dipping in the lake,” He nods towards to glistening water, “And I want you to fuck me.”

Ashton swallows heavily, standing up on almost shaky legs. He nods at him and without another word strips of all his clothes, leaving them in a pile next to his feet. He watches as Luke’s eyes scan over his body, the dark orange colour from the sunset cascading over his body, his brown hair falling into his eyes. Ashton turns, heading towards the water, leaving the half clothed Luke to watch him walk away. Hastily the younger man peels off his own clothes, walking quickly to catch up to Ashton, both men now standing ankle deep in water.

“It’s a bit cold,” Luke whispers, a small laugh escaping, “Sorry about that.”

Ashton’s hand grabs Luke’s curls fiercely, smashing their lips together hoping to create some heat to distract them from the icy feeling travelling up their legs. Luke walks them both backwards, the water rising up now to their torso’s, both men still connected.

Luke’s hands are on Ashton’s cock now, gently stroking under the water as they kiss forcefully, Luke’s other hand playing with his very hard nipples, the cold water making them very sensitive under his warm fingers.

“Luke, that feels good.” Ashton whispers as he parts from Luke’s lips, letting his eyes close as Luke leans down to take a nipple into his mouth, letting his own heat melt into Ashton’s skin. When he had thought about this idea at first he thought it would be fun to try and go down on Ashton in the water, but now that he’s in this situation, he realises he’d rather not die from drowning and the reasoning being trying to suck your husbands dick underwater. He doesn’t think his mother would appreciate that.

Instead though he lets his hands work Ashton expertly, he knows everything Ashton likes, the rhythm he likes, the certain spots that make him shudder and how he likes his balls touched, he knows everything, in and out. Luke works him for a little while, making sure he’s as hard as he can be, Ashton’s hands are also on Luke, his mouth, nipples and cock, working his hands constantly over every inch.

“Ash, please fuck me,” Luke whispers, “Hard.”

Ashton swallows thickly and turns Luke around, holding him close his back to Ashton’s chest. He looks around just in case someone else had decided to pull up to the lake for a late dinner session, but all is clear fortunately, it’s darker now though, the sun has set but the darkness hasn’t fully enveloped them yet.

No time to wait, Ashton inserts two fingers quickly inside Luke, working them in and out. The water does not make for good lube what so ever, but like last time he knows Luke can take it, he always does, takes it just like Ashton likes.

He fingers Luke for a little while, loving the sound of Luke’s moans into the air, his hands gripping Ashtons arms as he has nothing to hold onto in front of him. He removes his fingers, wrapping them around Luke’s chest to straighten him up, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder a few times, nipping there as well.

He can feel the lake getting darker as time moves forward so he doesn’t hesitate to push his almost aching cock inside of Luke, edging slowly in further till his hips are square against Luke’s body. He moves slowly this time, letting each inch of Luke incase him, the feeling overtaking him.

“Ash please don’t be gentle with me,” Luke begs, pushing back to prove what he’s saying, “I said hard.” He demands, grabbing Ashton’s hands as he places them both on his hips and rocks back into him waiting for Ashton to take control over him.

Taking his demands properly he holds on tightly and fucks Luke hard and rough, the water they’re submerged in splashing around furiously. He’s trying to keep himself steady as he rocks into Luke, his feet occasionally becoming unbalanced from the sandy bottom of the lake. He suddenly feels his stomach tighten and he knows he’s close, almost embarrassingly so.

“Babe,” He breathes out, “I’m close, are you?”

“I can be,” Luke replies as he reaches down to tug at himself, making sure he orgasms as close to when Ashton does as well. Both men are moaning, not really holding back as there is not a soul around them to witness them.

“Luke, Luke, Luke,” Ashton mumbles over and over, his whole body now soaked from the water, the droplets shining now from the moonlight over head.

He hears Luke whine loudly and clench around him, causing Ashton to orgasm then and there, his hands still gripping Luke as tight as he can. Ashton rides out his orgasm, Luke slumped forward almost submerging himself fully in the water, without Ashton holding him up he would have dunk into the water ages ago.

Ashton pulls out and lets go of Luke hips, hearing a faint ouch come from the man in front of him, he reaches forward to turn said man around and kiss him squarely on the mouth, arms coming around to hold him close.

They hold each other for a while as Luke presses a kiss to Ashton’s wet hair he looks around, the lake looking almost majestic with the moons reflection resting on it, he thinks that even if he doesn’t win this challenge he definitely picked an idea that is somewhat romantic as well.

#5sos writing #ashton irwing #luke hemmings #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer #my writing #lashton

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mywayevans · 7 years

Text

Unexpected Addition

When: Monday, May 8 Who: Sam Evans, Mercedes Jones Where: Conference Room

It was too early to have to deal with this mess. One of the producer’s assistants had brought to his attention that two of his actor’s had been in a fairly long relationship awhile back, and normally that wouldn’t be a concern, it was the entertainment business after all, but he wanted to ensure there would be no issues with them working together. As far as he knew, they hadn’t encountered each other yet, so he had asked for them to meet him at the production office. At least it would be easier to put out the fire here if things went all the way left.

Coffee and the usual pastries were sitting out on the table as Mercedes was brought into the small conference room. The producer was on the phone and she was told he’d be in to join them in a few minutes. She was worried that they had changed their mind about giving her the part of Eden. Maybe this was too good to be true after all. Maybe they didn’t like how she sang? She had just finished doing vocals and there was a small break before dance rehearsals. She opened a bottle of water and took a sip, hoping her nerves would settle down soon.

"Darlin, I think you missed my best side?" Samuel said, his eyes more on the new make up artist than himself though." The long limb blonde turned and gazed at his face. "Really? And which side is that?" She asked concerned that she might have actually missed a spot. "Which ever side that gets me your phone number." he said quickly, offering his best lopsided grin. "Mr. Evans you are needed in conference room one." Sam turned to see one of the shows many PA's. His eyebrows turned down, as he removed the make up towel and stood to his feet. Tossing the down on the empty seat. "What's this about?" he asked as he was whisked down the hall.The PA shrugged sharply and continued his steady march. The man didn’t stop once he came to the door, he only pointed to it and went on up the hall. Sam rolled his eyes and open the door stepping into the small space, and immediately his eyes landed on the one person he didn’t need to see. He could recognize her from any -and all angels. Words sprung to his lips, spilling cuttingly from his mouth. this was their way now, harsh words, replace what use to be sweet. “What are you doing here?” He barked, hand still clutching the door knob.

Mercedes’s head snapped around so fast that her loosely curled hair swirled around her like a tornado, settling back down on her shoulders calmly, even if the fire in her eyes was the exact opposite. There was a time when she could sense the moment the owner of that voice entered the room. And when he did, she would smile so hard it would make her cheeks hurt. But not anymore, now the only thing that hurt was her jaw because she was clenching it in anger. This had to be a cruel trick she thought to herself, as she sat the water that was still in her hand down hard. “I’m here for a meeting, Mr. Evans, not that it is any of your business.” Her voice was level, but that was not a good sign from a woman that had a very melodic and cheery tone usually. “I’m sure there’s a room full of scantily clad women, with your name on it, somewhere else.”

And there they were the deep pools he’d memorized stronger, more keen, and still as dangerous as ever. His green eyes slammed against her’s, trying to force hers into submission. She could fool anyone with her outward cool demeanor. Lucky for him, he wasn’t anyone, the tightness of her jaw meant she was pissed and inwardly something about that knowledge made him… happy? No… couldn’t be. She did look hot. Maybe it was horny? Sam grinned, hiding his annoyance behind his trained model cool demeanor. “I’ll gladly return to that marvelous location, once my work is done You do remember my work ethic? Don’t you?” He quipped, long strides taking him to Mercedes’ right. “Did you need to see me?” He asked the producer out right. Trying his best to ignore the woman 3 chair lengths between them.

It took every bit of strength in her damn soul not to break her stance. He would practice different model stares with her before, and most of the time she ended up in a fit of giggles because it would amuse her when he’d throw in a Rock-esque eyebrow or something else comical. Then laughter would turn into making out and then that turned into..well, other activities. Very nice, intimate, and private activities. She flinched just slightly as she locked out memories she did not want bubbling to the surface. Before she could smartly reply to his work ethic statement, the producer took that opportunity to try and stop any further verbal smackdowns. “Yes Sam, I do.” He said as he looked between the two young actors. “Mercedes is going to be on Performing the Arts with you, and I just wanted to give you two the opportunity to talk prior to getting on set. I was not aware you two had a history until this morning or I would’ve made sure to mention it during the audition process.

“Sir, I can assure you, my presence will not affect Mr. Evans’ work performance in any way. He is a consummate professional.” The words left her mouth before she had a chance to check herself. She always defended him, it was a knee jerk habit that should’ve been long gone. She didn’t dare look down those three chairs to meet those green eyes to see his reaction. Granted, part of what she said had been shade too. The fact that he didn’t care about her presence in his life years ago when it should’ve mattered. She shifted in her seat to get her head back in the game, she wasn’t going to mess this opportunity up over Sam. She could always scream into a pillow when she got home. And maybe cry a little. Damn him.

The chilling revelation that Mercedes was going to be his co-star, rendered Sam momentarily speechless. Jaw slack, his head slid forward on his neck, a brisk "Since when?" tumbling from his lips. And the startling part, he realized as his words became tangled with Mercedes', was her defense him. His head jerked towards her face gobsmacked. Several heartbeats passed before he pulled himself together. He brought his hand to his lips wiping away his stunned expression. He rubbed the back of his neck and pulling out a chair settling into it. "As Ms. Jones has stated I'm a professional as is she. We can handle the situation. Besides, I doubt we'll be working closely."

“We specifically had Mercedes in mind for the role of Eden when we created it,” the producer said as he settled back in his chair a little, fully taking in the two co-stars. Their body language was very telling, but he’d keep that gem of knowledge to himself. “And no, at the moment your two characters aren’t in any major lines together, but this is a large ensemble cast with options for many different relationships to build. As long as you two can work in the same vicinity and not try to kill each other, I think we’ll be fine.” Which he prayed to every celestial being was true, he didn’t need bad press about the show or any of it’s actors before they had a chance to get picked up for a full season.

Why did Sam’s voice still have that stupid hint of country drawl to it that made her feel all flushed and warm. Ugh! She did not like him. Not one bit! She had convinced herself that she hated him years ago out of necessity. She refused to be some broken hearted girl when she knew better. She knew he’d find someone else because it hadn’t made sense for him to be with her in the first place. It was her fault for falling for him then, and now her resolve was going to truly be tested. Out of all the shows and all the networks, here was Sam ‘pretty boy’ Evans back in her life. She forced a polite smile at him, her gaze lingering just a heartbeat longer than she wanted. “As you can see, we have no problem with working on the same show and we will remain cordial on set.”

The producer’s assistant opened the door, “Sir, the CEO is on the line and he wants to talk with you ASAP.”

He nodded and got up from his chair, “This is great, thank you both for handling this well. I’m sure things will be fine, I just wanted to soften the surprise here instead of you finding out during a script read. We’ll see you on set soon.” And with that he strolled out the door, blissfully content with the results of the meeting. Meanwhile Mercedes felt like someone had just shoved her in the deep end of the pool.

"A handcrafted part." Sam nodded. Mercedes worked harder than anyone he knew. The knowledge that she had a part created for her, gave Sam a deep sense of pride. Despite everything that happened, he was happy others saw her worth. He offered the man a noncommittal shrug. Felix was gay. So by his approximation, he and Mercedes would have limited contact indeed. At least, there wouldn't be any onscreen romantic entanglements to worry about. He should be able to avoid her easily. His hand moved to his stomach as it suddenly began to twist into knots. "We'll be fine. She has already tried to kill me once and it didn't stick." He joked, giving Mercedes a wink. He there forced cute exchanges would sell the producer on their pretend ease. After all, they were actors. Sam gave the producer a salute and nodded as the man rushed from the room. "We got this." He add, as the door slid close and hiding him from view. When the door clicked closed he found himself lingering on her silhouette. He remembered spending hours placing soft kisses on her perfect lips. It was only then that he noticed his palms had begun to sweat. He was alone with Mercedes for the first time in years. Snatching his thoughts and eyes from her, "How the hell are we going to do this?" He asked flat out, eyes now fixed on the producers vacated seat.

Mercedes had to cover her mouth to keep back the laugh she wanted to let out when Sam said she’d tried to kill him. She had been insanely furious at him, that was for sure, but she’d never hurt him. Even when she said words out of anger, it was more to prove to him that she wasn’t the same sweet girl anymore thanks to him, not to cause him pain. And no he did not just wink at her!? She knew he was just putting on a show for the producer, but she felt like she was riding an emotional rollercoaster and she wanted to get off.

“We’ll act our freaking asses off, that’s how. Like you said, our characters probably won’t interact much, if at all.” She said as she let out a slow breath, her fingers absently playing with the hem of her shirt. “We will manage to see each other and not want to say something toxic in passing because there are other people to consider. Neither one of us wants to be the reason the show doesn’t get picked up or the other actors hate working alongside us. So you and I are going to find a way to get past it. Besides, I’m sure you’ll forget I’m even here after a while anyway.” And there it was, that tinge of hurt in her voice she had worked hard to get rid of when it came to him. She got up slowly, ready to leave before they started yelling at each other again.

Sam smirked. A genuine real life smile directed it towards Mercedes. His fingers inched to remove her hand from her lips, so he could see her smile. But no, he'd have to content himself on the knowledge that he could, even accidentally, make her laugh. Of all the things in his life he regretted, depriving himself of that smile was at the top of the list. No… don’t go down that road. They had their shot at a relationship and now that time had passed, and for good reason. Acting civil. Sam hoped it would be that simple, a 5 minute charade was easy. But doing so on a daily basis would be much harder. He wasn’t sure he could hold the pretense. “Or maybe we should try to avoid each other all together. I don’t want to have to endure that viper tongue of yours.” He touched his arm, still able to feel the imaginary welts she could inflict. “I”m sure, we will figure it out. The cast is huge. We will have tons of bodies between us.” His eyes moved back to her as she rose to leave. For what it’s worth. Congratulations.”

She nodded her head, “You’re probably right. Avoiding each other will most likely be our best option.” Because she would rather not have to run across him and some girl in any kind of romantic situation. She knew she had no right to be jealous or anything like that, which she wasn’t. It would just be weird seeing someone you used to kiss a lot, kissing someone else that you have to work with too. That was the one thing she had been grateful for, that she hadn’t seen him in person when he did what he did. The instagram photos were more than enough.

“Thank you,” she smiled slightly, a little surprised that he would even say that to her. “I should probably go...” she reached for the doorknob, stopping to look over her shoulder at the handsome blonde one more time. “Congratulations to you too, Sam. I know you’ll do great.”

“Oh don’t look like that. You’ve got more talent than most of the people in this town. No matter what happened between us I’m really happy things lined up for you.” Sam threw one arm over the back of the chair as Mercedes touched the door knob. “I don’t know… I think I’ll do alright. But... I’m not the one, who was hand picked.” He said raising his eyebrow.

“I have no idea why they wanted me to be honest, but I’m thankful. My character is a dancer, so that’s pretty cool.” She leaned against the door as she looked at him. “You are going to do great. I told you the same thing every time you went to a modeling gig, and eventually that stuck, right? You have talent all on your own, Sam. You always have.”

Sam’s mouth drew into a straight line. “TNT, Mercedes. Talent, Nerve and Tenacity. That’s what they see in you. And it’s what the world sees too. And they saw it so much so, that they created a world just for you. I’d say that something.” He felt his neck began to burn with each word. He hoped he wasn’t overstepping. “A compliment and encouragement in one day. What did I do to deserve such pleasantries?” He lowered his head, “It did. Thanks for the remember.” He smirked climbing to his feet. All this goodwill was starting to make him feel uncomfortable. He pulled at his shirt, and pushed his hand into his pockets. “Well, I guess. I’ll be seeing you. Can’t wait to tell Finn you’re apart of the cast.”

She felt warmth spreading along her cheeks and she ducked her head away out of habit. Sam always had a way of knowing what to say to make her blush, even now, which made her feel like her own body was betraying her. She hadn’t heard that nickname of sorts in a very long time. When he first used to say that to her she would joke that she wished she had magic too, that way it would be TMNT, just like the teenage mutant ninja turtles. “I guess for once we’re not trying to one up each other on the hate factor.” She smiled and nodded her head. “Seriously, Finn is here too? Thanks for the heads up, I’ll need to prepare for a bear hug.” She opened the door this time, needing to get away before she felt too comfortable. Before she let her guard down again. Not that it would matter, Sam made it very clear that they couldn’t work. They tried and failed. The best they could manage is to be on casual friendly speaking terms. Eventually. Maybe. “See you around, Sammy.”

“Or maybe it’s TMNT.” He smirked, remembering her long standing joke. “I still don’t know why you want to be a hero on a half shell but it was always a cute joke.” She wanted to be magic. He remembered, always forgetting that she already was. She’d cast a spell on him, that was hard to brake. Even with his transgressions. He said with a shake of his head. Her face was more beautiful then he remembered. At least he’d get to steal glances at her from time to time. “I guess. Yep, he's awesome. I’m sure he missed you too.” mentally adding, ‘only half as much as me.’ He cast around in his mind for an excuse to prolong their exchange. But he was too late. He bit his lip when she bid him goodbye using the nickname he only allowed her to utter. “Have a nice day, Ms. Jones.” He said, as he gave her a lopsided smile.

“TMNT was just for fun, we both know that I’m always going to be Storm,” she said with a wink. Storm was her all time favorite superhero and was usually her go to anytime she played a Marvel game or costume. She waved at him as she made her way down the hallway, part of her hoping like hell he was watching her walk away because she was making a point to but a little extra sway in her hips. Nothing wrong with reminding him of what he’s missing out on, right?

Sam covered his mouth and began to cough. She was a cruel temptress and she knew it. Mercedes had caught him off guard with her statement. "You're wrong for bring that up, ma'am." He had only ever had a passing love for Storm. Well, that was until Mercedes donned the Storm costume and forever etched her image into his mind. He stepped into the hall, hand deep in his pockets. He watched the show, lovely behind moving from side to side, for a moment a smirk on his lips. "Thank you." He called up the hall, as he turned and moved away in the opposite direction. The show had just gotten way more interesting.

#para: 001 #Para: Unexpected Addition #OOC: pretend this was early this morning

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