Rogue 2 - Origins

[CloudyBlueDay]

The Boyz Are Back In Town
with @Elle Joyner and @WingWong

Oliver waited until Grace was gone, gave her every reassuring gesture and touch he could before sending her off. It made her nervous, but now knowing that there was an entire Underground organization behind them.. Behind her… gave Oliver some peace. But he wouldn't be totally calm, totally certain, until he knew what happened to Nick. Even if he still trusted the man… even if he still loved him. He needed to fill the holes, the burning questions.


Placing a hand on Nick's shoulder, squeezing, he nodded to the man. "Somewhere quiet we can go, Nick?" He signed.


Nick gave them a farewell with a wave and a smile before turning to Oliver. Part of him dreaded it, reliving some of the details, of the thing that separated him from his friend in the first place. He knew he needed to, though, to give him peace of mind. He nodded. "They have a small library. There's also a housing area, if you want to see where I've been recently," he offered. Part of him preferred the housing area, knowing this wasn't going to be pretty, but he'd give Oliver the choice. Whatever made him feel more comfortable. "Or we could stay here, since both of them are gone." Also a decent option.


Oliver thought over the choices Nick presented him way too long, taking a last sip of the tea Munroe had brewed him. "I think the housing area would be nice. I'd like to see where you've lived. I've got plenty to tell you about where I've been. Only wish I could show you."


A small part of Nick was relieved. "I look forward to hearing about it," he signed back, before getting to his feet. "When this is all over, maybe you'll get the chance. Because I definitely want to know where you've been." Having said that, Nick strode to the door, opening it so that the two of them could leave Munroe's office to head towards the housing area.


Sighing softly, Oliver nodded, standing up and moving out of Munroe's office. "I hope so." Was all he signed, now taking a slower steps to fully absorb the place. "I did what Duncan and I planned. After you left. Built a cottage in the forest, like we said we would. I've been there since. Well.. I was there."


Nick led the way out of the office, clutching his own mug as he walked. They walked through the streets, passing small storefronts and restaurants. He looked over as Oliver signed again. That made sense, why he couldn't find him after he had been able to surface again. He gave Oliver a smile. He knew that had been his dream for a while, to live the life he'd planned to with Duncan. "I'm glad you got a chance to do that," he said sincerely. "And you're going to get the chance to do it again." He was going to make sure Oliver got out of this mess in one piece, so long as he could help it."You were there until the stuff with Grace?"


"She stumbled upon my home a year prior. When she came back.. you know the rest of the story." Oliver said with a shrug. "The things that have happened to her.. the way the world has treated her.. I want to make her happy. I want to help her find happiness. She deserves it, and more." He shook his head, smiling softly at Nick, hiding the hurt in his eyes. "I don't want to dance around the question anymore. I already forgive you, Nick.. but why did you go?"


"She does," Nick signed, agreeing with a nod. Grace hadn't gotten into all the nitty gritty details of her life the last time they'd met, though what she had said spoke volumes about what she'd been through. Sometimes, even what she didn't say did as well. He glanced up as they passed other storefronts and eventually found themselves in the residential area. It was mostly small apartments, a set-up that Nick was more than familiar with.


He sighed softly. [/i]There's kind of a story to it, but basically…"[/i] he'd started to try to make it clear and concise, but the events from five years ago still had left their own wound. This wasn't going to be quick and clean, as much as he'd like it to be. "A job went wrong, Ollie. Do you...do you remember the last one I told you about? The one where I was helping Julian get insulin and supplies for Claire, the woman that ran the make-shift infirmary?"


"I remember," Oliver signed with a nod. He'd never forgotten.. and he'd even tried to find out what happened. At the sound of Julian's name, Oliver perked up. He recalled all the things Nick had told him clearly, and the memory would have brought a fond smile to his cheeks, if Nick's tone weren't so dire. "Julian.. is he well?"


A pained look flicked over Nick's face. It was gone as quickly as it came, but it had been there. "I don't know," he admitted. He paused in signing, rubbing his own hands in an anxious habit. "I hope so, given everything," he continued. Despite everything, even. He got it, got why he'd done it. If he'd been in a similar situation, that would be an option on the table. The difference...was that he'd never consider going through with it.


He took a breath, steeling himself all over again. Five years, and he still wasn't over this all the way. He'd been trying to find it in himself to forgive Julian, and he thought he was most of the way there, but he still couldn't get all the way there. The feelings he'd had for Julian were faded away, too coated by the memory of the betrayal to stay untainted. "A couple of days before we went on the job, Julian got bad news. His grandmother...her cancer came back," he started to explain, swallowing thickly. "He said it was bad, and it had progressed pretty far. If she didn't get treatment and soon...she was going to die. Julian didn't really have a way to get the money quickly enough to even start paying off her treatment, not with his own cut. If he had my cut as well, and...a reward for turning in a mutant, he could feasibly try, though.' He trailed off, shaking his head.


As Nick spoke, Oliver couldn't stop the expression of horror that overtook his features. He watched Nick wring his hands, a sign Oliver had come to recognize over their years of friendship, and already he felt the levity of the situation. Once Nick trailed off, Oliver immediately pulled the other man into a tight hug, shaking his head against his shoulder. When he finally let go, he signed quickly, "I'm so sorry, Nick. I'm so sorry… I know what he meant to you."


Biting his lip, Oliver sighed. "You didn't get caught though… right, Nick? Tell me you didn't get caught."


Nick sniffed after he was pulled into the hug. He wrapped his arms around Oliver, content to just stay right there a while, even as his eyes stung. Eventually, though, the other pulled away and he unwrapped his arms from the other man. He smiled sadly, "It's okay. He had someone that meant more to him. I can't fault him for that."


He then shook his head. "No, but I almost was. He...he locked me in one of the containment units of the facility. By the time I got out, they were at the door. As I was headed out, there were coming in. That's...that's why I disappeared. I didn't know what they knew, how much Julian had told them. I didn't know if he was sold on giving them me. So I ran and I hid, for a month. Purged everything I could stand to get rid of that could identify me, that Julian could've told them about."


"Are you joking?" Oliver signed angrily, color rising to his cheeks. "He had someone that meant more to him… so he left you for dead? Or worse? And you don't think you can fault him for that?" He shook his head. Sometimes.. Nick was a little too kind. He gnashed his teeth, staring at the ground, trying to filter out his anger for his friend. "I tried to look for you. But you always said, break contact… I.. I tried my hardest. But you were gone. So I decided that was the time to do what I'd planned too… I should have found some way to leave you a message… tried again. I'm so sorry that happened, Nick. I'm so sorry."


"He was scared, and he was desperate," Nick signed in response, tilting his head up as tears sprung to his eyes. A bitter sort of laugh slipped out, the one he tried not to let out too often if he could help it. "And people that are scared and desperate are willing to do terrible, horrible things for the sake of that. I don't forgive him. I tried. I can't. It doesn't mean I don't get it, though. If something happened to you? I don't know what I'd be willing to do, but there are plenty of things that aren't very good that would make that list." Sometimes it scared him, the idea of what he'd be willing to do for the sake of the people he cared about. He could very easily fall into a position like Logan's, when he'd first left Rogue all those years ago.


Nick then shook his head. "Don't be sorry. You did what I asked. If I had been caught? They could've brought you down with me. That's why I asked you to break contact. I wouldn't drag you into whatever mess I ended up in," he explained, very gently bumping Oliver's shoulder again in consolation. "Don't be sorry. We're here now, aren't we?"


Oliver shook his head feverently, not returning the shoulder bump in any sort of way, gaze trained on the floor in disgust. He was furious that this had happened to Nick, and that he hadn't been there for him, or able to stop it. "If something ever happened to me, and you even thought about doing something like that, I'd strangle you myself, Nick. Got it?" It was an empty threat, of course, but there was still a fire in his eyes. "Yes.. We are here now. At least." Oliver sighed. "So.. after that. What else were you up too?"


"Got it. I'll knock that off the list of terrible things I'd do, then," Nick joked lightly. "And if you do end up strangling me, please go easy on me." He knew it was an empty threat, but he still noted the fire in Oliver's eyes. He could take a guess, at exactly was running through his friend's head, based on how he looked like he was trying to burn holes in the ground with his eyes. "And Ollie? Don't blame yourself. Please. I'm glad that, if nothing else, we're back together." He tried again, bumping shoulders with him one more time.


He sighed. "I eventually resurfaced, tried to find out who would still be willing to take a chance on someone who'd disappeared for a month. Some people, I could find again. A lot of people were just gone, though. I think my disappearing spooked them. Genevieve...was one of the people I couldn't get a hold of. You were another. So afterwards, I left. Kept in contact with the ones I could find, and then kept moving. Kept working the market for almost a year, until I basically ended up shit creek without a paddle. That was when a Rogue recruiter found me and helped me, and I ended up being a part of Rogue for its last two months before it...you know, dissolved."


At Nick's second shoulder bump attempt, a somewhat amused sigh fell out of Oliver almost reluctantly, rolling his eyes. "Fine. You're awfully convincing, you big dork." He signed through a slowly growing smirk. However, it was overcome by another look of sadness quite quickly. "Genevieve… I'm saddened to hear that." He would never forget the kindness of the woman, towards him and so many others. "You and shit creek seem to be old friends, Nick. Maybe older than you and I. At least Rogue was kind to you, I imagine. Are your friends from there alright? Made it out?"


"That's me. A very convincing dork," Nick signed back, grinning over at Oliver. His expression soon sombered as well. "I'm still looking for her, so here's to hoping." He couldn't help the snort. "I might as well buy a home in shit creek, considering I'm there so much. And they were," he agreed. "I know a lot of them made it out, and as far as I know, they're doing okay. That's...kind of the other reason I want to try to find some of them. Obviously I'm concerned as a whole for everyone who could be involved with what's happened to Grace, but I want to make sure they're okay, too. Plus, I think some of them would love to meet you."


Oliver laughed lightly, his signature airy rasp falling with a small shake of his shoulders. "They living the domestic life? Picket fence and all? I'd love to see someone who really.. Made it. Especially out of the mess Rogue was." Oliver smirked at Nick, though he was being fairly honest. "It makes sense to search for past Rogue members if we're looking for Devon. And I don't see why you shouldn't check in on them, too." The thought of Nick with close friends, Nick happy, made Oliver happy, too. The absence of Genevieve was worrying, but sometimes, these things couldn't be helped. But he had Nick back… and that was what mattered right now. "You like it here? The Underground?"


Nick snorted, rolling his eyes. "Some of them are. I know a couple that are basically honeymooning in Europe right now. There's a couple of others that are in the middle of nowhere, living their lives. I'd like to think that's pretty close to making it. It was a mess, yeah, but it worked. We were all a little like a family. Disjointed and dysfunctional, but we worked." He smiled wide at Oliver, nodding in agreement. He really wanted to check in with a specific few of them, but he wouldn't say no to catching up with all of them. A lot of time had passed, and honestly, he missed them. He understood why a lot of them quit living like Rogues, even after everything at the end, with so much more at stake for so many of them. Still, he couldn't help but miss it a little. "For the most part, yeah. Kinda homey, in a way. The people are friendly, tight-knit. It's a lot better than up there too." He gestured up, where the streets of New York were above them, to make his point.


"Honeymooning in Europe?" Oliver signed mockingly, a little shocked, though mostly impressed. There was still a fond smile on his face. "I'm glad, Nick. Families are supposed to be messy, aren't they? They sound like good people." As Nick gestured up, to the streets of New York, his smile flickered slightly at the overwhelming memories. "Yeah. Nick, I…" Oliver glanced away. "I've never left Maryland before this. I spent five years in a forest. Just… go easy on me, please?"


"Yeah, that was my reaction, too. Honestly, I don't think anyone could stop them from going where they want to go. They're...interesting on their own. They're even more so as a couple." Nick chuckled, biting his lip. Yeah, those two were a mess. "They are good people. And yeah, I guess they are supposed to be a little messy." He tilted his head, expression shifting slightly as Oliver's smile faltered. "Of course. One step at a time. Tap me, if you ever need me to dampen sound. I know I can't filter everything for you, but I can make sure you don't have as much at once."


With a somewhat relieved sigh, Oliver nodded. "Thank you, Nick. I really appreciate that." He had met so few people in his life, been so little places. Nick was so much more… out there than he was, with eccentric friends and a home beneath the busiest city in the world. Oliver admired him, him and the family he'd built. "Anything else big I miss?"


"No problem," Nick assured with a bright smile. He seemed to consider this. "You know, I think we've covered most of it? There was...the Julian stuff, I ended up in Rogue. When it dissolved, I ended up wandering for about two years…" Realization seemed to cross his face before he grinned. "I found my mom here. That's pretty big news, I think."


Oliver blinked in surprise, before breaking into a grin as well. "Your mother? Nick, that's great. I have to meet her soon. Will you introduce me?" Ignoring the slightest pang of jealousy, Oliver was overjoyed for Nick. It sounded like the man had done much better than he'd ever imagined, and he knew about his relationship with his mother somewhat. Though strained, it had ended on abrupt terms, and Nick had always wanted to find her. Oliver was thrilled.


"Yeah. Turns out she ended up in the underground about a year before I did," Nick explained. "I'll absolutely introduce you to her. Once...she gets back. She's on a mission." He still wasn't aware of all the details around the particular mission. He knew most of it, since it required his mom being a mole amongst people that essentially wanted to hunt down mutants. Still, he only knew so much. When she'd said goodbye, she hadn't specified a time. He'd be lying, if he said that hadn't made him a little anxious. "She's going to love you, though. She'll have someone else she can swear at in Sign."


His brows furrowed, and he placed a gentle hand on Nick's shoulder before removing it to continue signing. "A mission she will come back from entirely unharmed. If she's the one that raised you, the most resilient man I've ever known, she must be just as strong. Hell, maybe twice as." Oliver offered the man a reassuring grin. "Oh, man. Another swearing signing sailor? Count me excited." He chuckled.


"We might as well triple how strong I am and call that my mom, to be honest," Nick replied with a laugh. "Thank you, though." He chuckled, shaking his head. "If sailor signers are what you get excited about, you should be so very excited. If you put the three of us in a room, we'd be unstoppable."


They'd finally reached Nick's apartment, and pulling out the keys to unlock his door. He opened the door, gesturing for Oliver to follow him inside. "So, what have you been up to?" he asked, having turned to walk backwards to continue talking.


Oliver stepped inside the room with a pleasant smile on his face, taking in Nick's humble abode. "After you disappeared… I waited around a while. I searched, and I waited, but it felt pointless to stay without you. So I found myself a nice spot in the forest… and I built a home. And I really didn't do much after that." He shrugged. "Made friends with the animals in the forest, a couple of human ones stumbled along every now and then. It was very peaceful… the most peaceful time in my life, honestly. But nothing ever stays that way, of course." He smiled at Nick.


Nick's heart twinged a little at hearing that Oliver had felt it was pointless to stick around without him. He was touched, in a way, but it still made him feel a little bad. "I'm sorry for leaving. I would've tried, should've tried, to give you more of a heads-up," he answered, an apologetic smile on his lips. "That sounds nice, though. Definitely peaceful. And quiet." There was something vaguely wistful in his face before he ended up snorting. "Of course."


The apartment had a relatively lived-in look to it, though it still had that militaristic quality to it. It was used and lived in, but it was still neat looking. This was admittedly more Helona's work than Nick's own, though he tended to maintain it out of habit. It was admittedly still a bit Spartan in nature, though the two occupants both had resolved to change that. There were pictures on tables and hung on walls. There were touches, little pieces of decor here and there, that represented the occupants of the house. Blankets draped over the couch and chairs, and a stray sock Nick wasn't entirely sure how it ended up in the living area. He snatched it up a little sheepishly. Just behind him, nestled against a wall, was a keyboard, set and ready to go.


"Don't be sorry." Oliver signed with a shake of his head. He'd say it - or sign it - as many times as Nick needed to hear it. Even though the apartment was cleanly, it still felt like Nick, and Oliver chuckled lightly as Nick dove to hide a stray sock. It was certainly a home. A very well kept one, but a home nonetheless. With a curious gaze Oliver gravitated towards the keyboard, allowing his fingers to glide along the plastic keys, his smile broadening. "I tried to learn the cello. I wasn't very good at it." He grinned. "And I still had your music… the songs you recommended to me, at my cottage."


Nick gave him an apologetic smile despite himself anyway, even though Oliver said not to be sorry. Perhaps, beyond the pictures and the sock, the thing that made the apartment most like a home were the handful plants placed throughout. Many of them low-light plants that could sustain themselves well enough on the lighting in the building or on a lamp. Nick glanced at one sitting on a shelf before looking over again at Oliver as he slid his fingers over the keys. "Did you really? How bad was it?" he asked with a small snicker before it grew louder. "How much of those did you actually keep, by the way? I know I'm edgy. You don't have to spare my feelings there."


"It was very bad, but I enjoyed it. All the animals left when I played." Oliver laughed. "I kept everything, Nick. Not saying I listened to all of it all the time, but I kept all of it." He moved away from the keyboard, and walked around the room, greeting every plant on every windowsill, shelf or table. "Your plants are very happy here. You take good care of them." He pointed to one. "This one would like if you watered it a bit more often, though."


"Oh no," was all Nick managed to sign before laughing at the mental image of every animal just immediately fleeing Oliver when he pulled out his cello. "That bad, huh?" He shook his head in amusement, even as the other man told him he'd kept everything. His smile turned fond at those words, and he watched him greet his plants. He glanced at the plant in particular. "Noted. I've got you, little buddy."


Oliver's grin broadened at hearing Nick's laugh. He had a great one, and it never failed to make him smile. "I love your home, Nick. I wish I could share mine with you." He sighed softly, and sunk unto the couch, closing in his eyes, taking in the calm hum of the apartment, the soft murmurs of the plants. "It's… quiet here. I like it." He signed gently, beaming at Nick. "Doesn't feel like New York at all."


Nick's apartment wasn't far from Munroe's office, but Grace still took her time in getting there when she'd left the former to the latter… Munroe had given the newly-made brunette directions, and she had used the walk as time to think of exactly what she was going to say when she spoke to Oliver and Nick. Things had… escalated. In a weird way. And there was a small part of her that was almost hopeful they might protest enough to scare her out of going back to Buck's… but then there was that part of her that was just a little tired of all the crap, and needed to unwind… to let go… even just for a few hours.


Knocking, she popped the knob and slipped inside, unsurprised to find a fluff of grey stripes winding around her ankles as she entered, and picking Maisy up, giving her a smile, she called out softly, "Boys? Where you at?"


As the knob turned and the door clicked, Oliver grinned at the entrance of Grace and Maisy, who was purring obnoxiously loud in the girl's arms. He was about to offer them a greeting when he caught sight of her freshly dyed locks. "Your hair!" Oliver exclaimed, his jaw dropping as he signed along his phone's spoken words, before putting a hand dramatically to his forehead. "Your signature color… whatever will we do?"


"Hey, maybe one day you'll get the chance. I'd love the chance to see it," Nick answered as he watched Oliver sink into the couch. "No, it doesn't feel like New York at all." A very fortunate thing on his part, really. He turned to greet Grace but the first thing out of his mouth was "Holy shit, you're not green."


Blinking, Grace stared at the two, before the words clicked, and laughing softly, she set Maisy down to run her fingers through her hair, fingering the strand of green at the back and pulling it over her shoulder, "...Not all gone… but yeah… I kinda… kinda figured it wasn't gonna be easy to blend in lookin' like Kermit." Biting her lip, she shrugged, "I know… it sucks, but whatever."


"You didn't look like Kermit." Oliver immediately protested, glad that she had least kept a little streak of it. Maisy seemed a little upset that she had been set aside, instead making a home in Oliver's lap, resuming her purring. "Did you buy any green dye in case you change your mind?" An idea formed in his head. "Or maybe you've got some to spare for me?"


"Even if you did, you'd be my favorite Kermit," Nick chuckled. "It doesn't look bad, honestly. It's not you, but it doesn't look bad. Hopefully, you'll be back to being the tiny Mean Green Machine again before you know it." He raised an eyebrow at Oliver before his smile widened. "Ollie with green hair sounds pretty interesting," he commented.


"Thanks…" Consciously, she brushed her hair back behind her ears, with a small shrug, "It'll take some gettin' used to, but it's better than bein' a target, right?" Her brow rose at Ollie's question and a laugh escaped, "Uh uh… Green is my thing, Nick. But I did grab some temporary dyes… in case I freak out and can't handle ordinary life. But I uh…" Biting her lip, she looked down, fiddling with one of the rings on her index finger, "I can't tonight. I got something I gotta do…"


Signing the word for aw, because it couldn't be expressed properly with his phone's vocabulary, Oliver smiled wistfully at Grace. "I'd like to try it, maybe. Got inspired, but now my inspiration's gone and changed her muse." He smirked, but it quickly changed to a look of confusion, watching her fidget. "Did Munroe ask something of you? Where do you need to go?"


"Fair enough," Nick said, hands raised in surrender in response to Grace claiming green as her own signature. "All I'm saying, and maybe I'm a teeny tiny bit biased, that blue would look very nice in his hair," he added, briefly carding through Oliver's hair from where he stood behind the couch, as if to make a point. He furrowed his brow a little at hearing this. "Something you have to do?" he echoed.


"Oh… Blue is definitely happening." She nodded firmly, as if leaving no room for argument, but at their questions, looked suddenly sheepish again, clearing her throat, "N-no… Not Munroe. I um… I sort of have d-date?" she finished on a question, as she shrugged, "Sort of, anyway. It's not a big deal… Just meetin' someone."


"Blue sounds nice." Oliver spoke, before falling silent entirely, blinking in surprise at Grace. "A date?" Maisy yowled, and Oliver promptly shoved the cat off his lap. She sauntered off further into the apartment. "We've been here hours, Grace. Who could you possibly have a date with?" Concern leaked into his expression, brows furrowed.


"Blue it is," Nick agreed with a grin. He tilted his head, clearly intrigued. He leaned forward, bracing himself with crossed arms on the back of the couch. "A date? They must've made quite an impression," he commented. "Ooh, does that mean I get to do a shovel talk?"


Blushing slightly, Grace shook her head, "It's not… it's not really a date…" she muttered, "Just… meeting someone. He's nice, and I like talking to him." Looking to Nick, she shrugged, "Khuyen… From Bucks?"


"I'd be doing the shovel talk if it were out of us two." Oliver replied indignantly, mulling over Grace's words before looking back at Nick. "Do you know him?"


"Nope, I'm calling shovel talk, Ollie. You get to stand over him ominously and smack your fist against your hand," Nick teased, blowing a raspberry at the other man before pausing. "Khuyen? Khuyen as in the guy that will call people he likes 'love' about 50 times in 6 minutes? Yeah, I know him. He's a good guy, he's just...an interesting choice."


"...That's an indicator he likes you?" Blinking, her brow rose, before a small smile formed. Briefly, she looked to Ollie, though eye contact seemed harder than usual, "I know you're worried… but I'm a big girl, and I've got a pretty judge of character. Look at my only two friends in the world, right? Ol… talkin' to him? I… I felt like for the first time in days, I could think about somethin' else besides how screwed up everything is. You know? I'll be careful. I promise…"


Rolling his eyes at Nick, Oliver turned back to Grace, a little surprised by the sincere amount of eye contact. A small sigh fell out of him, and he shook his head. "Please… be careful. Please. Else, Nick is coming to shovel talk him with a shovel and I'll be palming my fist ominously the entire time." He announced. "...And you have to buy me blue hair dye."


"That's one of them, yeah," Nick said slowly, raising his own eyebrow at Grace. Khuyen was...definitely an interesting choice, but to each their own. "Oh, I'm gonna be talking with my fists, too," he said before snorting and throwing his head back with a laugh as Oliver continued.


"Done. But only a blue streak… You're not edgy enough like me and Nick here to go full blue, Little Bean. Besides… I'd get jealous… dye mine back and then we'd have to stay down here forever. Also… Do I wanna know what Shovel Talks are? Cause that sounds terrifying…"


"I'm plenty edgy," Oliver protested, though he knew it was a fruitless endeavor. "Shovel talks are… Well, I only know about them because Nick told me so." Flashing a smile, he stood from his place on the couch, moving towards Grace as Maisy unceremoniously weaved her way in between his legs. "If something goes wrong, contact us, alright?" Sighing, he looked back at Nick. "Guess Nick and I will have to go on a date too, just to show you up." He joked.


"Sure you are, Ollie," Nick teased. He tilted his head, considering how to explain them. "Shovel talks...are where you threaten serious harm against the partner of someone you care about. As a way to prevent them getting hurt, so on, and so forth. They're called shovel talks, or at least this is my guess, is because you have an 'or else' hanging over the partner's head that may or may not involve hiding their body if they do hurt your loved one." He grinned back at Oliver. "You won't hear me saying no, Ollie. We can sit in a booth, in sunglasses and trench coats, and pretend we're inconspicuous."


"Oh geez… Please don't scare this poor boy away. My U-haul of baggage is gonna freak him out enough." She laughed, regardless, and shaking her head, reached out to give Oliver's arm a gentle squeeze, "Nothing's gonna go wrong… but you'll be the first one I call, yeah?"


Running her fingers through her hair, she shook her head at the both of them, "Got news for you… neither one of you is very good at being conspicuous. And not just cause you're studly and adorable. Besides…" With a saucy grin, she shrugged and bent down to scoop up Maisy again, "Can't show this up, Ollie. You should know better."


A luxurious purr fell out of Maisy, tail swishing, and Oliver rolled his eyes as his shoulders bounced with a laugh. "You can't take Maisy with you to win this guy over. She'll just take him for herself." Maisy let out a mewl of protest. "Nick and I may not be in the next booth over, but we're right behind you. Although the trench coats and sunglasses do sound nice. Go on," Oliver shooed Grace, a lopsided smile on his face. "Go run off with your new boyfriend."


"Trust me, Grace. If I know Khuyen the way I think I do? There's not a lot that would scare him off anyway," Nick chuckled, shaking his head. His chuckle turned very quickly into a laugh. "Do you mean to tell me...that walking up to a guy and decking him isn't inconspicuous?" He smiled as Maisy protested her man-stealing ways before it rolled over to Oliver as well. "The sunglasses and trench coats sound very nice. If you happen to see two tall men in them while you're out, think nothing of it."


"Oh my goodness. The two of you… I go from a deadbeat drunk dad, to two nerd dads…" Shaking her head, she reached out and gave Oliver a one armed hug, before dragging Nick into one as well, smile warming, "...Doesn't matter how it goes tonight. You know why? Cause I got the both of you, and if that's all I ever have, that's enough…" Looking down at Maisy, she grinned, "And you, too… Though we gotta work on that ego, Miss…"


Even though Oliver was nervous, Nick and Grace's words reassured him, and he leaned happily into the hug, still chuckling softly. Maisy meowed something in response and Oliver gasped, shaking his head. "I have met so many cats in my life. And Maisy is literally the worst." Oliver said aloud, grinning. "Two nerd dads is better than that one." He patted her on the shoulder. "Should Nick and I pack you a picnic basket?"


Nick laughed as he was pulled into the hug, returning it easily. "I'm honored, to be your nerd dad," he told Grace. "As one of your nerd dads, I'm asking you to be safe, and be back by curfew, and...I'm running out of dad things to say. I'm inexperienced with dadly-ness." He reached over to scratch Maisy under the chin. "She's doing just fine," he told her before laughing again outright at the picnic basket comment. "We will if you need us to!"


"Oof… Curfew might be a problem…" Rubbing the back of her neck, she laughed softly, "And I don't think I'll need a picnic. It uh… his shift doesn't end till midnight, so I'm meeting him then." Biting her lip, she shrugged, "N-not sure when I'll be back…"

 

[WingWong]

The Boyz Are Back in Town Part 2
Collab: Nick, Oliver @CloudyBlueDay , and Grace @Elle Joyner

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Bristling with a tight jaw, Oliver shook his head. "You're killing me, Grace." He shook his head, collapsing back on the couch. "Well, if you're not going out for dinner like a normal person, maybe we should cook something up?" He looked at Nick, smiling softly. "Got anything in your fridge?"


"Midnight?" Nick whistled. He looked over at Oliver. "Is that allowed? I'm not sure if that should be allowed. Out past midnight and we don't know when you'll be home. You're going to give us grey hair, Grace. I'm 26 years old and I'm not ready." He then grinned over at Oliver. "I might have something we can use…"


"Sorry! Not my fault I ran into the only decent straight guy on the planet and his schedule is crap…" She mused, before following Ollie to the couch, flopping onto it with a small sigh, "Hate to be Debbie Downer, but maybe while we eat we should think of a gameplan for this whole… detective trio thing we got goin' on?"


"It shouldn't be allowed, but I'm a push over." Oliver's phone retorted, a smirk on his lips, trying to hide the worry. "She'll be alright… she better be." He'd never forgive himself if something happened, but it was the Underground, and it was supposed to be safe. Frowning, Oliver looked up at Nick, Maisy having quickly rehomed himself in Oliver's lap once more. "Nick, you're the one with contacts. Maybe we call up an old Rogue friend of yours? Someone who knew Devon?"


"And so, just like that, both of your nerd dads fold," Nick chuckled, shaking his head. He gently squeezed Oliver's shoulder in reassurance before sliding his hand away again. His expression turned pensive as he considered this. "There's someone I could probably call. Devon keeps in touch with them a little more than he does me, mostly because we keep in touch through them," he admitted. He'd been meaning to talk to Francis and Lucas anyway. It had been a little while.


"So… so we're not leaving?" Grace asked, trying to keep her town even, despite the small pang of both anxiety and excitement building in her chest. The idea of staying in one place too long had always been discomforting… Yet there was also a small part of her that wasn't entirely sorry to hear it. "God… It's so weird to think… Devon." Rubbing her forehead, she frowned softly, "...Been ten years…"


Flashing Nick a smile as he reassuringly touched his shoulder, Oliver caught the worry in Grace's tone and frowned. "Well, once we find where Devon is, I assume we'll go looking for him. But yes, it seems we'll stay here a little longer. You have more time to go on more dates." He shot her a grin, shaking his head, though he took on a slightly more somber expression as she continued speaking. "Whatever will be, Grace, we will be right beside you. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you, honestly."


"Not leaving yet, at least," Nick answered. He'd have to see if he could get ahold of Lucas and Francis first. He'd have to figure out where Devon was. It would probably be a few days still in the Underground, if nothing else. He might try to put out a few feelers out elsewhere, but so far, it looked like they were staying. Nick tilted his head, slipping out of his own thoughts. "We'll be with you, if you need us," he said in agreement with Oliver. "Whatever happened with you two, I'm sorry. I think he'd like to see you, though." He hoped. Devon had always seemed kind to him, at least.


Frowning, Grace picked idly at her nail, shaking her head, "I know you knew him, Nick… and maybe, I dunno… maybe he's changed. But the Devon I grew up with? I'd be surprised if he even remembered my name." Running her fingers through her hair, she sank back into the couch, "Doesn't matter. This isn't about a sweet, touching reunion. This is about saving people's lives… Whatever that means for my screwed up family history."


Oliver sat up a little straighter, brows furrowing as he frowned at Grace. "That's entirely upside down. Grace, we're doing this for a lot of reasons, and one of them is definitely to find your brother and for you to try and fix things." He shook his head. "Rogue people seem to have heart, from what I know. Please, give it a shot when the time comes. For now… I'll make dinner, and you guys will figure out sleeping arrangements?"


"Grace, I have a hard time believing that he wouldn't remember you," Nick told her with a fond smile. "This is as good a time as any for reconciliation. It's one thing if it doesn't pan out, but please, give it a shot," he advised. He smiled faintly at Oliver stating Rogues tended to have heart from what he knew. He did say people though. Had Oliver met another Rogue at some point? "Right. Uh, for however long my mom's out, her room is available. So is mine. So if you wanted, you two could take the rooms, and I'll sleep on the couch," Nick offered. "Or I could grab a mattress and we pile up in here for a sleepover," he added, mostly joking.


Shaking her head, not looking up from her thumb nail, the cuticle of which she was shredding, Grace frowned softly, "You two are seriously underestimating how screwed up and dysfunctional my family was. Really… Don't shoot for the moon, alright? We'll be lucky if we get off the ground, at all." A sigh escaped, and turning her eyes up, she looked to Nick, "You and Ollie… are gigantic. You're stupid if you think I'm letting you sleep on your own couch. Fight me. I dare you."


"I beat you at this game before, Grace." Oliver said with a chuckle, pointing a finger at her. "But, honestly… that sleepover sounds kind of fun, Nick. You probably have the supplies for it, don't you?" Patting Maisy gently, Oliver stood. "I'm going to whip something up with whatever you happen to have in the fridge, and it's gonna be great. You two are prepping our mega sleepover."


"Grace, believe me, I get the dysfunctional family thing. Mine might not remotely compare, but I get the idea of it being complicated. And while I don't know exactly what your family was like, I do know Devon. We might not be super close, but I do know him," Nick reassured her. "Just give it a shot. I won't hold my breath, if that makes you feel better, but please." He then promptly snorted, "Grace, if you think I won't fling myself onto that couch and refuse to move, you're wrong. I can and will sleep on my couch if it means you guys are comfortable."


He looked over at Oliver, a little surprised to hear that he wanted to do the sleepover in the living room. "I..yeah, I've got the stuff for it. If Grace helps me grab blankets," he continued, glancing over at Grace, "we could set it up in here. By the way, though, we're still working on the veggie situation in the fridge, so we might be a little short there," Nick warned. The pantry was fully stocked, though, as per both Helona and Nick's slight food hoarder tendencies.


"Nikolas… I swear to you… I will lay on you. I don't care. I have no shame. I will literally sleep on you. If you so much as go near that couch." Her eyes followed Oliver as he rose to go into the kitchen, pointing a finger at him, "You, too, Doolittle!" She didn't wanna talk about Devon anymore, and she was glad the conversation had shifted, because in her mind she knew the dark thoughts were at least, to some degree, justified… but they wouldn't understand. She didn't expect them to. Not until thing came to a head…


Nodding as Nick requested her help, she rose and followed after him, "Though, you two seem to be under the impression I'll be back here tonight." Wiggling her eyebrows, she grinned saucily, "Awfully presumptuous."


"Oooh, don't 'Nikolas' me, Grace," Nick warned, pointing a finger at her. "And you say that like I wouldn't be okay with that. Have you forgotten that I'm a cuddler, Grace? If you want to die at the hands of a koala, go ahead, because I have no shame either. Not about that," he added, spreading his arms wide as if in invitation for a hug. He threw his head back in a laugh as Grace called Oliver 'Doolittle'. "That's a good one," he chuckled, shaking his head.


He led the way to his room, which was a short distance away. He clasped a hand to his chest, face stunned and jaw dropped. "As your nerd father, I am scandalized. So help me, I will punt Khuyen if he even tried, and he knows it." He shook his head, slightly amused, but more protective, over the fact that Grace deserved something good after everything she'd been through. He slipped into his room, flicking on the light. It was less barren than the shared space, with a few things hung on his walls, and it looked a lot more personal than some of his past living spaces had. Beyond the occasional poster and and photo on his wall, and the generally large amount of books that Nick was starting to collect, there was also a couple of pillows on his bed. Tucked with the pillows was a stuffed raccoon, slightly larger that Maisy, that looked like it was well-worn and well-loved. It was a little frayed and a little faded and in desperate need of more stuffing, but it was certainly well cared for.


"I have regrets…" Grace mumbled, but not without amusement in her tone, "About giving you and Ollie that title. Of all the things I expected to bite me in the ass, that's definitely not the one…" Rubbing her brow, she followed after him anyway, and in his room, her eyes traveled around. As a former thief, it was habit to take in a lot, in a little span of time, but it was impossible for anyone, really, to miss the big stuffed animal, and with a grin, Grace gestured to it, "Aww, heck. That's pretty cute, Nick." A brow rose as she recalled something and with a laugh, she shook her head, "...Hey, do me a favor. When we get back out to the kitchen, ask Ollie about his tattoo…"


"Don't regret making us your nerd dads. We're just trying to do what's best for you," Nick teased, gently ruffling Grace's now brown hair. Yeah, that was going to take some getting used to. He looked over at where Grace had gestured, smiling faintly. "Thank you. That's my old buddy Bandit," he said with a grin. He opened the drawer of his chest of drawers, pulling out a couple of blankets. He looked back up, confused as Grace continued. "Wait, wait. Hold on. Did you just say...that Ollie has a tattoo?" he asked, eyes wide even as he handed Grace a large soft blanket to bring back to the living room.


Laughing, Grace shook her head, "What's best for me… God. You're a little too good at that, Nick. I'd start to wonder you had a kid stashed away around here somewhere, except I'm pretty sure your mom would murder you twice over if that were true." Reaching out, she caught the blankets as he handed them over and her grin widened, "Oh… yes, he does. He really, really does. Go ask him!"


"My dad instincts are kicking in," Nick chuckled. He'd had plenty of practice once, before his old apartment complex had been raided. Looking after small kids, which he happened to get along fabulously with. "Oh, God, she'd murder me more than twice. Once, for having a kid at all when I have several other irons in the fire. Twice, for me hiding said hypothetical kid. Three times, for not meeting the mother. A fourth time for good measure," he trailed off, shaking his head. "Yeah, definitely more than twice." Nick's eyes got even wider, if that were even possible, as he grabbed a couple more blankets before closing the drawer and rushing to the kitchen. Since when had Ollie gotten tattoos?!


Meanwhile, Oliver had happily gotten to work in Nick's kitchen, pulling out pasta and cheese and egg to whip together some carbonara. Nick didn't have guanciale, but the bacon in the back of the fridge sparked inspiration in Oliver, and in moments the kitchen was alive and humming, whisking the mixture, cooking the pasta, cutting the bacon, trying to find some vegetables to make a salad, giving up, going back to the pasta dish. As Nick and Grace reentered, Oliver flashed them a smile. "Looks like all the perfect supplies for a cozy sleepover that Grace is going to miss out on." He was, of course, still worried, but cooking had already soothed his nerves and this guy clearly gave Grace some hope, so he would bite his… phone.


"I dunno… Never had a sleepover quite like this." Grace mused with a small laugh as she collapsed back on the couch, welcoming Maisy to her lap, "Might just have to tell Khu to pump the brakes on falling desperately in love with me, just yet. Whatcha makin' over there, Gordon Ramsay? Smells incredible…"


Nick stood in the entrance, arms full of blankets. The smell had smacked him like a wall as soon as he'd gotten close and it smelled heavenly. It would have to be a train of thought he hopped back onto in just a second, though, because there was apparently a tattoo he had to see. "Grace said you have a tattoo," he stated bluntly, expression a mix between surprise and something borderline giddy at the prospect. His statement was punctuated by one of the blankets slipping from his arms and landing with a soft 'thump'. He responded by looking down at it briefly, as if it had betrayed him, before looking back up at Oliver.


"Carbonara!" Oliver's phone announced, smirking at Grace and Nick happily. He turned back to the food, only to look back up in shock at Nick as he deadpanned. Oliver's cheeks reddened. "I have a few. But I think I know which one Grace is talking about." With a small, embarrassed smile Oliver turned the stove burner on low and moved towards the living room. "Don't judge me for this." He warned, before rolling up his pants leg and revealing the tattoo of a stuffed raccoon, much like Bandit.


With a saucy grin, Grace looked from the tattoo to Nick, giving a little shrug, "I've got tats, too… But I figured you'd find this one slightly more interesting…" She mused, scratching the top of Maisy's head.


"Hold on, back up a second. Did you just say you have a few? As in more than one, possibly more than two?" Nick asked, eyes still wide. He nearly dropped the blankets as Oliver rolled up his pants leg to show off the raccoon tattoo, absolutely stunned. "You...you got a tattoo of him?" he asked, looking back up at Oliver, impossibly touched by the fact that the stuffed animal he'd had for years had found a place on his friend's leg as well.


He smiled as he glanced over at Grace. "Oh, I know you have tattoos. Too many to count, if I remember correctly. Though if we're about to have a tattoo reveal party, I've got a confession to make," he stated. "I technically have one."


Blushing, Oliver let his pants leg fall back down, rubbing the back of his head. "I kind of thought you were dead." He admitted with a small shrug. "But.. Yes. I have three, though the third is sort of… big." Oliver grinned at Nick. "You have to show me, now, since you made me show mine!"


"Unless it's like… on your butt or something, in which case lemme close my eyes first cause, I love ya, Nick, but that ain't somethin' I need to take in…" Grace continued with a grin.


"Right," Nick said sheepishly. "Sorry." The sentiment still stood, though, that he was appreciative of the fact Oliver had a little part of him tattooed onto him. A little piece of him to remember him by. "See, now you have to show me the other two, because I'm curious. And you," he said, pointing at Grace, "are showing me yours. You're not getting out of this." He snorted at her comment. "Grace, you're already about to have me strip for the two of you, so I think we're good. I love you, but I'm not pulling down my pants for you."


He took a breath as he set down the blankets on the back of the couch, bracing himself for what would be sudden cold, before sliding his shirt off over his head. He turned so that his back faced both Grace and Oliver as he did so. Pulling his hair over one shoulder, he revealed intricate blackwork on one side of his back and trailing up onto his shoulder and upper arm. It was decorated in symbols and motifs, stylized with broken down segments of ink. Included in it was an anatomical heart, a very large intricately drawn tree, a pocket watch with wings, a diamond, and a lioness. There were several other shapes to join those, however.


"Nick is so much classier than a butt tattoo." Oliver said with a small chuckle. "Don't apologize." He reminded the man, eyes widening slightly as Nick pulled off his shirt. He was a little shocked by the fact that they had both gotten tattoos in the same place, but the tattoo that Nick had was stunning. "It's beautiful." Oliver said, taking in every little symbol, and knowing Nick, they all meant something, likely even someone. The pocket watch had to be Grace, a radiant smile growing on Oliver's face. "Don't freak out, but…" Quickly, he tugged his own shirt over his head, revealing a forest all across his shoulders and upper back, basking in moonlight and with a majestic deer on his bicep.


Grace blinked as Nick's tattoo came into focus, and for a moment, she couldn't speak for the lump that formed in her throat. She'd seen the watch, and while she wouldn't make presumptions, there was a pang of something in her chest anyways… A small twinge of hope that she wasn't wrong in thinking…


Oliver revealed his own tattoo and Grace sank into her seat, lip curving into a smile, "You boys… hiding all that ink. Ollie's seen more of mine than he probably wanted to… but we'd be here all day if I gave a full reveal…" she held up her hands, turning them forward and back to reveal the dozen or so tattoos that covered her fingers, the edges of her palms and her wrists. Alchemy symbols on each finger, the words GIVE and TAKE along the sides of her hands, 'used' in script along her wrist and below that, needle and thread. These were the easiest reveals, given the twenty-some scattered over her body.


"Thank you, Ollie. I'm not a butt tattoo man," Nick snickered, shaking his head all the while. "Thank you," he said again, voice much softer as he smiled at Oliver as he turned back around. He shimmied back into his shirt, glad to once again have some warmth. As he tugged the hem of it down one more time, he caught sight of Oliver's own tattoo. He breathed, a little in awe, of the other man's back piece. "It's gorgeous," he whispered, hand outstretched, though it hovered just shy of actually touching Oliver's skin. He turned as Grace stilled, hands held up, to show her tattoos. He shuffled closer, to get a better look. "Interesting placement," he commented before smiling. "I like them."


A smile grew among Oliver's reddening cheeks as Nick looked over his tattoo. Once the man had pulled his attention towards Grace, Oliver tugged his shirt back on, still smiling gently. Indeed, he had seen a lot of Grace's tattoos, but never looked over them fully. The thought of getting them done in suc sensitive places had Oliver shivering. "Look at us. The tattoo crew." Oliver joked. "Are you guys ready to eat?"


Chuckling, Grace shrugged at Nick's comment, "I have a tendency to go for places where I'll feel it more… Reminds me why I got it… What it means." Vaguely, she gestured behind her, "Got one on my spine hurt worse than all these suckers combined…" Smiling faintly, she glanced up to Oliver, "I am now that you've cooked, yeah…"


"The tattoo crew," Nick echoed with no small amount of glee, apparent by the grin on his face. He winced a little at hearing she'd gotten a spine tattoo. While his own hadn't actually gone over the spine, it had gotten close. It was plenty enough as far as first tattoos went. "Oh, God yes," Nick breathed. "So ready to eat. I'm in awe that what I'm smelling right now has come out of my pantry."


Slipping back into the kitchen, Oliver opened the pot of carbonara and began to plate it for the three of them. He'd purposefully made too much, in case they wanted more or Nick even wanted to store the leftovers for another time. "I couldn't make a salad. I thought you were joking when you said you were lacking in the vegetable department but I underestimated you." Oliver said with a snort, handing Grace and Nick their plates before sitting down with his own.


Laughing softly, Grace took a plate, sinking back and allowing the aroma to fill her, before plucking up her fork, "Bah… Who needs salad? Just filler…" Taking a bite, she dropped her head back to the couch and made a soft noise of contentment, "...Lord have Mercy, Ollie. Just become a chef already, would you?"


"Oh, no. No, I was not exaggerating. We're sorely lacking in the veggie department," Nick chuckled, shaking his head. "Mom still hasn't figured out how she's going to garden down here, with the, you know, lack of sun. That particular project took a backseat lately, so we're in a veggie-less existence at the moment." He gratefully took a plate, mouth watering as he did, before taking a bite. His eyes closed with a soft moan before he shoved about two more bites worth into his mouth. When he finally came back down to earth, he was able to murmur the words, "Is this what I've been missing these past few years? God, that's so much better than cold Spaghettios."


Oliver hesitated digging into his own plate just to watch Grace and Nick eat first. Their expressions of joy tasted better than any food he could've cooked, and Oliver beamed at them. "I am a chef. Just don't own a restaurant." He said, finally tucking into his own plate. He did try to keep vegetarian, but this was a small exception. His eyes widened at Nick's words. "If your mom would have me, I would love to help her set up a garden." He flashed Nick an honest smile. He was already missing his own garden. "In return, I'll keep you from ever eating cold Spaghettios ever again."


"Oi… Don't know Spaghettios…" Grace said with a small smirk, "They have their time and place, too…" She'd had her share of cold canned food and processed nightmares, too, and what Ollie had given them definitely did not remind her of any of that, "And you should have a restaurant… and you should let me eat there for free. Cause I gave you the amazing idea." She teased, nudging him with her foot.


Nick chuckled softly at the chef comment, playfully rolling his eyes. "I'm sure she'd welcome another brain and set of hands to help her out. I think we've burned each other out on accident trying to get where we have with it," he said. "I could try to find her plans we've sketched out so far so you can take a look.." He threw his head back with a laugh. "While Spaghettios did have their time and place," he said, looking over at Grace, "I don't think I'd be sorry to never have to eat them again. So it's a deal, Ollie." He shoveled another bite of pasta into his mouth, almost melting all over again where he stood.


"Yes, absolutely. I'm happy to help. Excited too, even. I love gardening and projects like this." Oliver said excitedly, slurping up some more noodles. "You two would always eat for free at Chef Oliver's Fine Dining. We also offer plant food and gourmet kibble." A hungry meowl erupted from beneath the table. "Did you guys hear that? The wind is particularly loud here… underground…"


"I've got a black thumb and kill anything I plant, so I'm not gonna be much help there, but I'm happy to taste whatever you make." Grace chuckled, shaking her head, and fishing out a piece of bacon, she dropped it beneath the table, "Poor Wind…"


"As soon as she's back and ready to work on it, I'll point her to you," Nick told Oliver with a chuckle. "Honestly I think the only reason I'm good with plants is because my mom had her tomato plant and all her herb baskets growing up. As for your fine dining? Absolutely. Count me in." He froze in surprise at the yowl before biting his lip, bending over to see Maisy, though he was careful not to let his food slide off. "Will the wind eat canned tuna? We used to keep cat food for strays, but we don't get too many of those down here."


"The wind would love canned tuna. Actually, I think I saw it in your pantry earlier. Here, I've got it." Oliver smiled and stood, Maisy following closely behind after having rubbed Grace's leg appreciatively and munching on the piece of bacon. There was a frenzy of meows as Oliver opened the can, which died down to a series of pleased purrs as he set the tin of food down. Oliver rolled his eyes. "The moment you left, Grace, Maisy stopped being a cute kitten and became an obnoxious adolescent."


"Oi…" Looking over at him, Grace wiggled a finger at Oliver, "Don't talk about our daughter that way. She's only obnoxious cause she missed me, so much." With a grin, she sank back in her chair, pushing her bowl aside, "Sounds like she takes after me."


Nick chuckled as he heard the chorus of meows and purring at the prospect of tuna. "I know I haven't been in your life much, Maisy," he said, calling after the cat, "but as your uncle, I promise to do better." With a slurp, he finished off his first bowl of pasta. "I'm going in for seconds. First and last call if you want me to fix your bowl too," he offered, glancing between Oliver and Grace.


"Oh, she takes after you. All that sass, that rude attitude? I see so much of Grace in you, Maisy." Oliver called, sticking his tongue out at Grace and then laughing airily at Nick. "Maisy will come to love you. She's just an attention seeker. I'm full, but thank you."


"Oof! Ollie. That hurts. You love my sass." She grinned, before looking up at Nick with a shake of her head, "I could probably eat the whole pot, but if I've got a date, I should probably try to avoid too much garlic…" She noted, with a saucy grin.


"I look forward to it. In the meantime, I'll just admire how gorgeous Maisy looks from afar," Nick chuckled. He shrugged as both of them turned down the chance for a second bowl. "I tried," he commented plainly before making his way back into the kitchen for more. He choked as soon as he fully processed what Grace said. "I say go for it. Test how interested he really is with the glorious smell of garlic on your breath," he wheezed as he scooped out more pasta.


"I love your sass. Don't know how much I love Maisy's." Oliver retorted. His expression was pulled tight again once she mentioned her date, hands drumming against his thigh as he stood to put his own plate, and taking Grace's, in the sink. "Kitchen's closed. Date will live another day, avoiding Grace's garlic breath." Oliver announced.


Looking up, eyes dancing between both of them, Grace smiled faintly, almost tenderly, and shaking her head, her fingers danced through her hair, "Don't tell Ollie…" Grace said to Nick, with no real distinction in tone, to actually prevent Ollie from hearing her, "But you're definitely the cool dad…"


"Boo. No garlic breath for you, then," Nick chuckled as he looked over at Grace from where he'd finished scooping pasta. Raising his fork to take another bite, a long noodle dangled from it no matter how far he raised it up. By the time he reached the end of the noodle, the fork was well above his head. Rather than admit defeat, he threw his head back, mouth open like a baby bird's before dangling the noodle into it and taking a bite that way. He tilted his head back up to face Grace as he sat down once again. "You say that now," he teased her with a grin.


Oliver stayed in the kitchen to wash the dishes, brows furrowed as he scrubbed away. He glanced over momentarily to watch Grace whisper something to Nick as he tried excessively hard with the noodles, a small yet concerned sigh falling out of him. Days ago Grace had been in his arms telling him of all the times she'd been wronged, been wrong, and how she had been on the run for years, trusting no one. They arrived here, and suddenly, she had a date? What if she was flinging herself into another bad decision? He couldn't help but worry. Silverware clattered against porcelain and Oliver cringed. "Sorry." He announced.


Shaking her head, Grace laughed at Nick, before jumping at the clatter, her eyes twisting back to Oliver with a small look of uncertainty, "...You alright, Doolittle? Cook doesn't need to wash, too, you know. Come sit. I'll take care of that later."


"I remember you having a date, so you don't have to do dishes" Nick said, glancing over at Grace. "It's alright, Ollie. You don't have to worry about those right now," he added, calling into the kitchen as he turned around to face the other man. "Plus it'll go faster when we're in there to help dry and put away."


He'd at least wanted something to keep his hands busy, but they wouldn't let him. With a huff, Oliver turned off the water and dried his hands, shuffling back towards the couch with a defeated sigh, leaning his head back as Maisy finished her tin of tuna and made a home in Grace's lap.


Giving Maisy room, Grace's brow rose and she watched as Oliver moved to the couch, the frown still lingering on her lips. Picking Maisy up gently, Grace moved to flop down beside Oliver and resituating the cat in her lap, looked over at him, "What's going on, Ollie? You got a storm cloud over you…"


"Ollieeeee," Nick called in a sing-song voice, standing up and settling on the man's other side. "What is it? You've got the grump face, and the grump face is never good," he added teasingly, though the sentiment was sincere. He knew the expression well enough to know something was on his friend's mind.


Oliver sunk further into the couch as Grace and Nick surrounded him on either side, arms crossed helplessly as his expression was tugged into a frown. "I don't have a grump face." Oliver protested, refusing to look at either of them.


"You got wicked grump face, Doolittle… and I think I get it." Biting her lip, she shifted so she could loop her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder, "...Ol… You're my best friend, and I love you. But… but you cannot be so afraid of something happening to me, that you stop trusting my ability to make a judgment call, okay? I know that this seems sudden, and maybe it is, but… I like to think I'm a pretty good reader of people, by now. And I promise, I will be careful. Before? It was easy to make stupid, reckless decisions, because… because I didn't have anyone who cared. Now I do. So… try not to give yourself gray hair, before I can make it blue, yeah? And hey… if he's weird, you and Nick can kick his ass for me."


"If you don't have a grump face, then I don't have a stuffed raccoon named Bandit," Nick snorted in response before pulling him into a one armed hug. It served to further surround Oliver in the attention of his friends, however unintentional it may have been. "I know Khuyen. He's...interesting, but harmless. She's got this," he assured. "And if all else fails, I'll find a shovel for you to wave around when you're shovel talking him."


Oliver's frown was lessened as Grace spoke, eyes fluttering further open in surprise as she hit the nail on the head. A soft sigh fell out of him as she leaned against him, and Nick wrapped his arm around him, and Oliver felt a little more at peace. His tenseness seemed to fade away as he sunk into their embrace, wrapping an arm around each of them to pull them closer. "It's been a long time since I had people to worry about. I guess I'm not used to it." He admitted.


"I don't think any of us are, Ol…" Grace said, with a soft chuckle, "I know I'm not. But there's worry… and then, there's paranoia, and I don't think any of us should be slipping into paranoid territory yet. Not down here, anyway. I want you to meet him, Ollie. I do. I just… I need to get to know him a little better, first. If… if you're cool with that?"


"I've been slowly getting used to it," Nick admitted, "but I'm glad that I've got you two to worry about now, too." He gave Oliver a gentle squeeze with the arm wrapped around him in a side hug before glancing at Grace. He tried to hide his smile at the idea of Khuyen and Oliver in the same room. "Please invite me whenever Oliver gets to meet him, because I think I might need to record the first five minutes on my phone," he chuckled.


Sighing through his nose, rolling his eyes with a small smile, Oliver nodded. "I'm cool with that." He said, sinking into the couch further. Maisy purred endlessly, pleased by this chorus of warmth radiating from the three. "You're awful, Nick. I'll be civil, I promise. No falling trees or bears or anything."


"You have to promise to be nice. Both of you…" She pointed a finger at Nick, eyes narrowing playfully, "This is…" Biting her lip, she shook her head, "It's weird. It's just kinda new, you know? I've never actually…" Breathing out, she shrugged, "I've never been on a date before. Not a conventional one, anyway. God… what do I even do? Or say? Oof… Now I'm worried."


"I'm not awful, I just know what he's like. Talk to him for five minutes and you'll know exactly what I mean," Nick laughed before all but howling as he threw his head back. "No bears," he echoed, wheezing. As he managed to catch his breath, he held up his hands innocently. "I'll be perfectly nice. I just...need to record Ollie's reaction." He made a face, as if unsure what to say. "Uh, yeah, I'm not a good person for advice there. Just uh, be yourself."


"You are not recording anything." Oliver retorted quickly, glaring playful daggers at Nick. At Grace's question, he bit his lip, trying to think of an appropriate response. "My relationship with love was not exactly… conventional. I would stick with what Nick said. Be yourself." He shrugged. "If he doesn't like that I'll sick Maisy on him."


"Ugh…." Rubbing her brow, Grace laughed softly, "Twenty-two and I don't know the first thing about dating, and my two best friends literally gave me the same advice you get from Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. This isn't going to go horribly wrong at all."


"That's all I've got to give!" Nick protested, though he was laughing too. "It's not like I'm exactly an expert dater. Actually, yes, I do have advice. Don't be so awkward you can never actually act on feelings and decide to just take it to the grave instead. Don't be me, Grace."


Oliver frowned slightly, catching Nick's gaze with a small disapproving look. He raised his hands and spelled out yeesh in sign language, shaking his head with a smirk. "It will be fine, Grace." He assured. It was a little strange to try and consider what had made his and Duncan's relationship work. A lot of factors that Grace and Khuyen did not exactly have. Mostly bad things, so it would probably work better, right? "I'm out of practice. Very very out of practice. You don't need advice if it's meant to be. That's all I can tell you."


"And, hey… if it tanks horribly, you two can take him out for me…" She teased, with a grin, "Thanks… I think it might actually be alright. You though…" Gesturing to Nick, she shook her head, "That self deprecating bullcrap? Uh uh. No more of that…" Leaning back, scratching Maisy's ear, Grace grinned, "So what's for dessert?"


"Don't 'yeesh' me," Nick protested with a pout, his tone lacking any of the bite it could've had, fingerspelling the word back to Oliver as he said it. To be fair, the last time he'd actually considered telling someone how he felt, he'd ended up locked in a containment unit in a medical facility. He could certainly admit there were a few hang-ups because of that. He blew a raspberry at the two of them, regardless of that. "That...is a good question," he said. "I know we have chocolate chips…"


"You've been yeeshed." Oliver signed, a lopsided grin present on his face. Returning to speaking through his phone, he put a finger on his chin in contemplation. "I could make cookies. Every pantry has the ingredients for cookies." He offered. "Though I'm not sure Grace should be getting cookies if she's going to leave us."


"Oi!!" Giving Oliver a pinch in the side, she frowned, "I'm not leaving you! I'm temporarily going somewhere else for a little while! And I'm the one who thought of dessert, so I'm owed as much…" With a pout, she looked to Nick, "Right??"


Nick rolled his eyes playfully as Oliver told him he'd been 'yeeshed'. "I won't say no to cookies," he said. He looked at Grace, face contemplative. "Yeah, I agree with Ollie. You're leaving us tonight for a date. And when she helped me get blankets, she suggested she might not even come back tonight," he added, looking over at Oliver, trying not to smile. "As one of her nerd dads, I'm not sure I can reward that kind of behavior."


Oliver flinched, a shocked expression coming onto his face as he recoiled in disgust from the pinch. "How dare you!" He announced, playfully shoving her on the shoulder. "Not even coming back tonight? That's it. I'm baking these cookies right in front of you and not giving you a lick." With a soft hrumpf, Oliver stood and marched over to the kitchen.


"Oi! Sell out…" With a pointed glare at Nick, she shook her head, before laughing, "I was kidding. I promise. I'm not… I'm not lookin' to put myself in that kinda position right now. Not when I got way too much else to worry about. Besides… I know you'd miss me if I were gone all night."


Nick cackled as Oliver huffed and stomped his way back into the kitchen. His reaction was even better than he'd hoped. "Nerd dads can't keep secrets from other nerd dads, Grace. It's the rules," he wheezed. "We'd definitely miss you, though. So make sure you come back in time to watch us eat the cookies you can't have," he teased, sticking his tongue out at her.


Yes, we'll miss you. And you'll miss out on these amazing cookies I'm going to make." Oliver added, already pulling out the ingredients he needed from the pantry. In moments he had started to whip up a batter, smirking up at Nick and Grace. "I'm sure Nick would really like to come and try this batter. Grace, such a shame you're leaving so soon. Big bummer." He shrugged.


"Oh wow. I see how it is… Fine…" Shaking her head, Grace curled Maisy closer, "I don't want your cookies, anyway. Baking's only good when it's made from love. Not passive-aggressive butthead-itude."


Nick chuckled, nodding as he stood up. "I definitely would. Cookie batter is almost as good as cookie dough," he agreed, making his way into the kitchen. Dipping a pinkie into the bowl, he stuck it in his mouth. "I dunno, passive-aggressive butthead-itude cookies are pretty good so far."


"Everything I do is with love. You're the one prancing off with a random guy you met at a bar." With a pout, Oliver wildly gestured to Nick. "How dare you leave me, a man you found in the forest who you tried to rob, and Nick, a man who you rescued from getting hit by a car, to go talk to someone who isn't even making you cookies?"


Frowning, she looked down at Maisy, "I dunno if he can bake or not, Olls… But you know you're my number one. And I'm not pracing off with him. I'm meeting him in a safe, well lit location. Besides! Nick knows him… And we like Nick, right?"


Nick was in the process of going in for another taste of the batter when he choked on a laugh. He braced himself with a hand on the counter, wheezing as he looked up at Grace. "I keep forgetting that you tried to rob him," he cackled. He then nodded sagely, though a smile still graced his lips. "I do know him. So Grace? Just have fun."

 

[Elle Joyner]

Pour Me a Glass | Pt 2
Collab with @WingWong

---

Buck's Tavern had finally gotten rid of those last few stragglers. Most of the lights had been turned off, save for a few behind the bar. The chairs were stacked on tables, which had been cleaned a little earlier. Music played softly, not nearly as loud as it had been earlier. It appeared as though it was more to the bartender's personal taste, as he was currently humming along, head bobbing, as he swept in the back of the room.

Grace had nearly talked herself out of it - she'd nearly let Oliver talk her out of it. A part of her had almost hoped that he'd fight her on it to a degree where midnight would've come and gone and left her with no option but to forget the matter entirely. But somehow, she'd made it out of their temporary living space… made her way back down the street to Buck's, and pushing open the door to the bar, she stood in the doorframe, watching the man sweeping, a small smile on her lips, "...Ball's over, Cinderella. You still dancin?"

Khuyen continued sweeping in the back of the room, oblivious as Grace opened the door. "Welcome to my ca-" he cut his soft singing off with a curse as he heard her voice, whirling around to face her. "Shit, my fairy godmother's gonna be so mad," he joked, having managed to recover his composure after he'd glanced at the clock. "I can't help dancing when the music's good, though, love."

"That makes one of us…" She mused, with a small chuckle, "I got two left feet, and I'm pretty sure a clinical allergy to rhythm. It's tragic, honestly. They're trying to find a cure, but the prognosis is not so good…" Looking at him, she shrugged, "But don't stop on my account. It's wicked cute."

Khuyen couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, come on. It can't be that bad," he said, setting aside the broom for a moment. "I'm not going to be convinced unless you show me those two left feet," he added, having strode across the room to greet Grace. He then extended both hands to her. "Why don't you join me? For the sake of not stopping my dancing, if nothing else," he teased.

Blinking, she stared, and slowly, a smile crossed her lips before she reached to take his hand, slightly uncertainty behind her eyes, "...You got a death wish, Khu? This is probably gonna satisfy it…"

"If I die from having my feet crushed, you can tell me 'I told you so' in the afterlife," Khuyen snorted, shaking his head. "In the meantime," he continued, gently curling his fingers around her hands, "I want to see just how bad this allergy to rhythm is. It might not be a cure, but I think I have a treatment plan in mind."

"Oh boy…" Breathing in, she shook her head, and taking a tentative step closer, looked up, "Just… don't say I didn't warn you. This could get ugly, real fast… Like… Naked Mole Rat ugly."

"Consider me warned, Wonder Girl," he assured before wheezing a laugh, shoulders shaking as he tried to recover. "Naked mole rat ugly. That's a new one. You know, you talk a big game about not being able to do this, but I don't believe you." He took a step back, his hands still around hers, as he slowly shifted and swayed to the music. "Show me."

"God… what… what do I even do??" Looking down at her feet, her cheeks slightly pink, she shook her head, "I feel like my brain just melted in my head. Do I… am I supposed to move my feet? How are you so good at this, and I'm just trash?? I'm an embarrassment to my gender."

"Alright, one step at a time. You don't have to move your feet yet," Khuyen said. "Just sway. Sway to the beat. And no trash talking yourself. I have entirely too much practice with brooms, so it's not fair to compare to me."

"Just brooms, hm?" Looking up again, she smiled a little slyly, before it twitched away with nerves, "...Sway. Right. Okay… God, you would think someone who can literally manipulate time would maybe be better at timing… Okay. I'm closing my eyes, and I swear if you laugh at me, I'm gonna… pinch you." Squeezing them shut, she swayed, as little as humanly possible, but she did it…

"I got the occasional old lady as a volunteer, too," Khuyen teased back. He tilted his head, seeming intrigued as she revealed her power, before his smile widened. "Okay. Do I get a say in what you pinch, though?" He wiggled his eyebrows shortly after, even though he knew she couldn't see. He slipped in a little closer, crossing the bit of distance between them, so that when he swayed, she would have to sway with him.

"Little old ladies… sure." The corner of her lip curved, and at his next words, her eyes snapped opened… moving to his, head shaking slightly, "Oh,no. You definitely don't get a say…" Biting her lip, she breathed out shakily, "A'ight… This isn't so bad…"

"Yep, little old ladies with the curlers in their hair and everything. I don't think they quite knew what to do with themselves around me either, so at least I'm used to that," he chuckled. "Aww, what if I'm good, though?" He swayed with her a little longer before a grin slid onto his face again. "You ready for the next step, Wonder Girl?"

"Hey, now…" She countered, smiling slyly, "Don't mistake lack of dancing experience with a lack of other… know how. You ain't playing' with Miss Daisy here, bud." Her eyes continued to study his, and a brow rose, "You behave and avoid laughing at my misery and we'll discuss it…"

Swallowing, she breathed in slightly sharp, "Next step? Bring it on…"

"Oh? And what other know-how is that?" Khuyen asked, tone bordering coy once again. "Excuse you, her name was Ethel, and she was doing her best," he laughed. "I will do my very, very best to try not to laugh."

"The next step...is to move those two left feet."

"Wouldn't you like to know? Didn't Ethel teach you a lady never reveals her intimate secrets?" With a shrug, she let her gaze drop, looking at her feet, "Oh… g-great. Here we go…"

"I definitely would like to know. Ethel taught me a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them. Don't forget, she was one of the cougars throwing garters." He winked at her before changing how he stood. "Come on. Get out of your head. Just relax...and step." He stepped slightly to the side, leading the way for Grace to follow.

A brow lifted higher at his words, and her cheeks reddened as she shook her head, "Maybe if I don't kill you with dancing, we can swap secrets…" he continued, and looking up again, she laughed softly, "I live in my head, Khu… you should hear the lecture I'm giving myself about all this…"

Cautiously, she stepped after him, feet barely leaving the floor.

"Now I've got something to counter my apparent death wish. I'm very intrigued to know what secrets you're willing to tell, love," Khuyen told her. "Step out for a little bit. Brain class is dismissed. The professor is out. Just breathe," he said, shaking his head. "Though I would like to what you're apparently lecturing yourself about. Other than making sure your feet don't leave the floor. Come on, you can move. Hell, you can step on me. You're not going to break me that easy." He gave her a reassuring smile, slowly and carefully guiding her into another step.

"Oh, you know… just basic earth shattering doubt… fear. The idea that I'm gonna ruin someone else the way. I did Ollie…" Looking up, she shrugged, "Monumental neon lights flashing that I'm over my head, here…"

She moved as he did, a little less uneasily, though not by much, "You, I'm not so worried about. But hell if you're not breaking me a little…"

"Grace, you haven't ruined anyone. Didn't you say he wasn't mad? Besides, you didn't bring that down on his head. I told you earlier, that it's not your fault someone else made that choice," he said, expression sobering a little. "And I'm touched that you're concerned, but trust me, you're not going to ruin me by existing in the same area as me."

His expression deepened further into one of concern. "And how am I breaking you?" He didn't want to push, hadn't meant to, if that's what he was doing. He stepped to the music again, though he was careful not to pull her into it.

"Walls…" She murmured, stepping with less hesitation, shifting closer, "I… I've gotten wicked good at putting up walls. Then you come along and plow through at least two in a few hours time. Scares me how… how this feels like it's… natural. Like it's worth letting go a little…"

Khuyen listened, quiet as she explained. "I'd say I'm a homewrecker, but that has a few other connotations to it," he said, chuckling a little. "So I guess I'm more like a wrecking ball." He stepped again to the music, noticing how she seemed to shift a little closer to him, and he relaxed a little. "Letting go a little, and letting people in is definitely worth it, Grace. Sometimes it hurts, but it's worth it. Though, I'm a little surprised. Is sticking your face close enough to mine that I can't see anything but your eyes a usual thing, or is it that letting go bit?"

Grimacing, Grace shook her head, "Definitely not a homewrecker… had my fill of those with my dad." He went on, and her smile returned slightly, "Maybe you're right. But that doesn't make it easier. And I dunno what you mean…" she hummed innocently, "I don't recall being any closer than this…"

He quirked a brow at the comment about her dad but said nothing. "No, it doesn't make it easier, but it helps. Whenever you think about not letting something happen or not letting go because that's what you're used to, you can remind yourself. It's worth it." He raised both eyebrows now, as if to say 'oh really?' "You don't? Huh, that's funny," he said, sliding in closer to her, so close his nose nearly touched hers. "I certainly remember. Maybe this will jog your memory." His voice was low, just short of a purr.

"Worth it… like you seem to think I am. That gut feeling." Shaking her head, she turned her gaze up and as her eased closer, she inhaled, "Hm. Nope. Definitely not a clue what you mean. I'd remember being this close for sure…" she continued, slyly, but slightly breathless.

"Like I know you are," Khuyen corrected, shaking his head. "Mmhm, sure you don't," he hummed. He stayed that way for a little while longer, face pensive, before he slid back out of her personal space. "If you say so," he added in a sing-song voice. His gaze ended up flicking to her ear, abused and swollen as it was, and he slid one hand from her grasp. "Is it alright if I…?" His powers didn't work fast when it came to turning on healing processes, but he thought he could at least help. All jokes from earlier in the day aside, she did look a little rough.

Still feigning innocence, Grace opened her mouth to say something else, when his hand shifted, and blinking, she canted her head slightly to the side, a dry, weary smile on her lips, "Knock yourself out, Casanova."

"This is probably going to feel a little like pins and needles. Sorry," he said, apologetic as he gingerly touched her ear with his fingertips. True to his word, the pricking sensation would form along her ear where her earring had been ripped out. Slowly but surely, he saw some of the skin heal, starting to knit together further. He wasn't experienced with this aspect of his ability yet, unfortunately. He could only speed up the process a little. He removed his hand as he realized that this was probably as far as his powers would go for the moment. "In case you ever want to stick an earring in that again."

Shock registered for just a moment, and reaching up, Grace touched the shell of her ear, gingerly. Blinking, her eyes turned to his, sincerity, coupled with surprise behind the depth, "...Y-you didn't have to… Thank you, Khuyen." Then, because she could think of nothing else to do, her arms flung around his shoulders and she pulled him into a tight hug.

"You might not want to let me do that too much, because it'll close up the piercing, too," Khuyen warned before his eyes widened, blinking in surprise as she hugged him. "No problem," he assured softly, returning the hug.

Pulling back, though only slightly, Grace bit the inside of her cheek, "...Okay… So maybe I vaguely recall being that close earlier. You got ten little freckles in your left eye, and four in the other. Yeah. I counted. Don't judge me."

Khuyen blinked at her, his brain processing what she'd told him, before a grin slowly spread back onto his face. "Only vaguely?" he questioned before wiggling his eyebrows. "Did you like those little freckles though?" He was pretty sure he'd never paid enough attention to his own eyes to know if he had flecks in them, let alone how many. Even as he'd slipped easily back into flirting, he couldn't help but experience the quietly stunned but pleased feeling he had now.

"...I counted them, didn't I?" Smiling coyly, Grace's shoulders rose in a small, nonchalant shrug, "You don't usually take the time to count something like that if there's no real reason to, right? They're nice. Your eyes. Your… well, all of you, really…"

"That's true," Khuyen admitted. "I'm honestly so flattered, though, I'm trying to think of how to respond." He placed a hand over his chest, sniffing a little for show. "I just want you to know...that my ego has now bypassed Pluto and at least 5 other planets entirely, because now it's Neptune sized. You can't pop this, can't stop it now, because whenever you try to tell me I'm just alright, I'm going to remember this conversation."

Laughing softly, Grace gave a resigned nod, "I guess that's fair. I can't be mad at ya, if I'm the one that builds it up." Teeth pinching the edge of her lip, she shook her head, "Neptune, though? On looks alone… I worry what happens when I start to tell you what a nice guy you are…"

"I feel like this is a commercial, and you've just pulled a Billy Mays 'but wait there's more' on me," Khuyen laughed. "First you tell me you like all of this," he continued, gesturing to himself from head to toe, "and now you're going to tell me I have a great personality. Shit, we're not shooting for the moon, we're shooting for the sun now. If you listen closely, you can hear my head inflating as we speak."

He was too much, and it was… frankly, not difficult for her to relax, to forget for a moment, all the crap. All the stress. All her natural borne desires to fight or flee or hide. Fighting a grin, Grace leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper by the shell of the bartender's ear, "...And don't get me started, Casanova, on that ass…"

He'd stilled as she spoke, only to gasp. "Scandalous!" he cried out, "You weren't watching me dance because it's 'wicked cute'. It's because you want a piece of this!" He pointedly motioned towards his own rear end. "And to think, if I'd had any say in where you'd pinch me if I laughed at you, that would be what I suggested first." His grin hadn't subsided any since she'd first complimented his eyes, though if it were possible, it had gotten more mischievous. "You missed out, love."

"Did I though? Did I really…?" Tipping back onto her heels, she met his gaze, her own flickering with mischief, as she gave a small subtle shrug. Since hugging him, her arms hadn't left his shoulders, but they relaxed, now, hanging loosely, "...So what if I do…? You complaining, Cas? I don't hear any complaining… And you fixed my ear and everything."

"I definitely think you're missing out," Khuyen nodded sagely, throwing another wink at her. "I'm definitely not complaining, so you'll be listening awhile if you think I will. I'm just surprised. You already want a piece of me, and I haven't even pulled out the sexy 'wipe down the bar' move on you yet."

A brow rose, and releasing him, Grace stepped back, her arms gesturing over to the bar with a small, sly grin, "...By all means, then… I'd hate to interrupt your moves, Khu. Sounds like you put a great deal of effort and work into this, and I'd feel terrible if I cut it short."

"Oh, now I'm torn. Cut off our dancing lesson so soon? I'm starting to think you're hiding something from me, Grace," he said before pulling away with a nonchalant shrug. "But if you insist…" He took another step towards the bar, "I'd like to show you how effortless it really is."

"Effortless? Being sexy?" With a chuckle, Grace followed along, and without a word, pulled herself up onto it, crossing only leg behind the other, watching him with curiosity, "...Somehow, I don't doubt it…"

"Watch and learn, love," Khuyen said, slipping behind the bar through a cut-out walkway in the counter. "It's like one of those car washes, but better, because it's me," he added before he ducked down to search for the spray and rag hidden away in one of the cabinets to clean the bar. "Maybe it's a good thing I couldn't get everyone out earlier, since I get to show you all of this in action."

Glancing over her shoulder, Grace continued to watch him with a small smile, shaking her head at the commentary, "...Well, I'm definitely glad. I mean… I can't imagine this would be half as much fun, just hearing about it later, you know?"

"Oh, definitely not as much fun. This? This is one of those things where you have to be there. It's an experience," he chuckled. He set to work on cleaning the bar, though it was purposely slow and languid as he made circular motions to clean. He made exaggerated faces at Grace, pointedly looking at her and winking throughout. He'd started to make another face, only to crack himself up, forcing him to stop near Grace on the countertop.

Try as she might, Grace could not contain the laughter, and burying her face in her hands, she shook with it, as she watched from the tips of her finger, the absolutely, utterly ridiculous, and somehow, adorable display. She was nearly wheezing, by the time he'd stopped, unable to continue through his own echoing laugh.

"Gimme a minute, I can keep going," Khuyen told her, barely able to get the words out through his laughter. He most certainly could not keep going if he couldn't breathe or stop smiling the entire time. "How bad was that from your end?" he asked, looking up at her from where he'd buried his face in his arms on the counter.

Bringing her legs around the other side of the bar so she could face him, Grace shook her head, and while the laughter finally abated, it was still very much present in her eyes, "...Oh… that was astonishingly bad. Probably epicly bad, really." Breathing out, she grinned, nudging him in the side with her leg, "But it was also easily the most wonderful thing I've ever seen."

"I aim to please, you know." He grinned up at her as she turned around, shaking his head. "Oh! Oh, wait, I forgot the best part!" He propped himself up with one arm, other hand in his hair, as he bent over far enough to exaggerate his own rear end as much as he possibly could. "This is attractive, right?"

"You and me… we're gonna need to sit down and talk about your definitions, sweetie. Cause sexy and attractive? These are good words… not bad." Grinning again, she prodded him in the arm with a finger, "But I think you know that. So what gives? Sneaky way of gettin' me to let go…?"

"No, this is definitely attractive. I can feel it, in the way it feels like I'm going to split apart my spine if I bend it any further," Khuyen mused, nodding as if he had all the wisdom in the world. He straightened himself up to face her properly after she poked him. "Who me? Be sneaky? Try to make you let go? Nope, doesn't sound like me at all," he answered, feigning innocence.

"Oh…" Making a face, Grace looked him over, with a small shake of her head, "Then this is wicked awkward. Cause you definitely have those definitions completely twisted." Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked around carefully, pointedly, "...Unless there's some other gem of a guy, takin' a wreckin' ball to my walls like some crazed Union worker…"

He threw his head back with a laugh, biting his lip as he fought and lost against a smile. "Super attractive. Definitely very attractive, very sexy." He blew her a kiss, as if to prove a point. "Oh, damn. Now we're really shooting for the Sun sized ego," he said before snorting. "Ball to the wall indeed. Time to take down those walls, love, one at a time."

Reaching up, Grace grabbed at the air, a 'catch' of the air-kiss, before pressing lips to her knuckles with a small wink, "Sun sized ego… matches that sun-sized…" Pausing, she looked him over with a grin, "Heart."

Leaning back on her elbows, she sighed softly, "...Been a really long time since I felt this at ease, Khu… It's a weird feeling."

"Oh, now that's not fair. That's not fair at all. I can't compete with the power of cute," Khuyen protested, pouting. And it was cute and absolutely unfair, because his heart did something weird in response to seeing her catch his joking kiss and press it to her lips. Speaking of hearts… "Don't talk about my heart like that. I get self-conscious," he snorted. "I'm glad I could be a part of it." When he smiled at her this time, it was a lot more sincere and unjoking.

"It's a natural cuteness. Absolutely in no way my fault. I'm adorable by nature… given my ridiculous size, and this baby face…" Vaguely, she gestured to herself, "But you shouldn't… or your heart shouldn't be self-conscious. It's a good one, Khu. A really good one. And I'm glad you could be a part of it, too… I… I wasn't gonna come." Shifting, she leaned forward, curling into herself slightly, "I almost talked myself out of it. I… There was a part of me that thought… maybe you were just… you know… some wicked hot player. But I'm not sorry I showed up."

"That just makes it more unfair. You're not even trying," Khuyen teased. He tilted his head as she said she wasn't going to come. Part of him had suspected that, mentally prepared for the possibility she wouldn't show. He pursed his lips, looking down as he traced a circle into the counter with his fingertip. "If we'd met a few years ago...that part of you would've been right," he admitted. He didn't look particularly proud of himself in that moment, not looking up at her. "If I was now who I was a few years ago, I wouldn't blame you at all for trying to talk yourself out of it. But I'm glad you're here. Really."

"I mean…" Her smile grew as she sat up a little straighter, "I could try really hard not to be cute. But something tells me you don't half mind it."

Her eyes flickered over to him, and a brow rose at his confession, "Sounds like you and I are both full of stories, Khu. What happened… To change all that? Somebody break your heart and diss that bar cleaning move? Make you rethink your whole game plan?"

"No, I don't mind it," Khuyen chuckled in confirmation, "and I'm afraid there are no bears in my stories." He pursed his lips as he sighed. "I was more like...I broke my own heart, really. I fell into that crowd, growing up, with the personality and the looks and everything." He gestured to his face, though the motion wasn't nearly as cheeky as it had been earlier. "I think I knew from the beginning that it didn't really suit me, but I kept getting told it was fun. I just thought I hadn't had the right experience with it yet."

" I ended up with a girl, and it was supposed to be casual and easy. I...I fell hard, and eventually I told her that. She laughed in my face and said she couldn't be around someone so immature I'd think I meant anything to her. Then I never saw her again." He gave her a sad sort of smile, trying to lighten the mood he'd doured. "The Pluto ego took a hit that day."

"Damn…" Frowning faintly, Grace reached out and covered one of his hands with her own, "...It's always easier not to let yourself feel, isn't it? I've told myself since I was twelve, it's all on me. That people don't… they don't love me, because there's something wrong with me. It's just easier than getting hurt. Than letting myself get hurt…"

Biting her lip, she sighed, looking up from his hand, to meet his gaze, "...It's her loss, Khu. It really is."

Khuyen looked over at her as her hand covered his. "I'm not sure it is, honestly. Not easier in the long run, because sure, you can try to make sure no one else hurts you. But then it's you. You're the one doing this to yourself, and you've got nowhere to turn when things start crashing down," he said. "And Grace, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. If people didn't love you, didn't look at your cute face and at least smile a little, then that's on them."

He gave her a warm smile before shrugging. "It's okay. I learned my lesson after a while, in any case. That's the thing they don't tell you about playing games. At some point, you're going to find someone who plays it better than you do. And now? I'm okay with not playing at all."

"...It's just... " Breathing out, her grasp tightened slightly, "I don't have a great track record, when it comes to people who are supposed to love me… you know? The… the sort of people who you expect to. It's hard not to feel like it's you, when everyone leaves…"

Shaking her head, she glanced up again, "...I'm not sure what I thought this was, at first. But it's not… not a game for me, either. I hope you know that."

"Sometimes people leave perfectly good things that are right in front of them because they don't realize how much they're worth," Khuyen said, gently putting his other hand on top of her hand. "It's not your fault if they don't see what's there."

He glanced down at the counter, smiling more to himself than at Grace. "I'm glad," he said softly. It had begun as just flirting for him, though he wasn't quite sure where it'd end up now. "As for what this is? We'll figure it out. One feelings jam at a time."

"So hard to see that… I know it, I do. I… I think I've always known. But it's so hard." With a dry chuckle, she met his gaze with a small, sheepish shrug, "...It was the bar cleaning, by the way. Definitely won me over. I'm hopeless, now, Khu. You really shouldn't pull that move out if you're not ready to make people obsessed…"

"It's a process," he assured her, "so it's okay if it's hard. Just take it one step at a time." Wasn't that what his sister always said? That helping yourself was always a process? He broke himself out of his own thoughts with a snort. "Of course it was. It works every time," he said, clicking his tongue and shooting her a finger gun with the hand that had been on top of hers. "I'll try to be more responsible with it in the future, though."

Grinning, she shook her head, "...You really need to. Leaving me with nothing to combat this incredible level of sexiness. It's unfair to take advantage of a vulnerable young woman…" Shifting, she nudged him with her foot, "I'm incredibly disappointed… I'll have you know."

"Oh, no. I've used my incredible powers of sexiness for evil," Khuyen gasped, dramatically collapsing onto the counter. "Your disappointment weighs on me so heavily. How can I make it up to you?"

With a smirk, Grace shifted, and leaned down until she was eye level with him, making what might have been a stern, calculating expression, except for the mischief in her gaze, "...Gee… That's a good question. It's a pretty grand offense, and I'm not entirely sure there's anything you can do…"

He clasped one of her hands in between both of his, looking as if he were pleading, and he might've been convincing if he hadn't been wearing such a wide smile. "Please, surely there's something I can do. Anything at all. I'd hate to keep you disappointed."

"Hmm…" Pausing, for a long, long moment, she seemed to consider the question, before shaking her head, "Gosh, I'm just… I'm sorry, Khu. I don't think there's an answer to this terrible predicament. What will become of you?"

"Oh no," he gasped, clasping one of his hands to his heart. "I don't think I can survive this. I'll wither away, wallowing in my shame forever, Grace." He pouted, sniffing for good measure, as he gave Grace the saddest puppy dog eyes he could manage.

"Oh… that…" Shifting, sitting up, Grace shook her head, "That is the saddest face I've ever seen. I… I don't even know what to do… Now I feel guilty! What superpower is this??"

"This is the power to make you less disappointed in me," Khuyen sniffed, though he was now fighting a smile. "Please, reconsider what I can do to make it up for you, or this," he continued, gesturing to his pout, "is what you must look at forever."

"...It's so strong…" She breathed out, with an awestruck expression, "I… I don't even remember why I was disappointed. I feel like I'm the one who needs to make it up to you! You're a magician…"

"Look deep into these sad eyes, Grace. Look deep into them," Khuyen droned, voice low and airy as he wiggled his fingers. "Look into them, and forget you were disappointed altogether. Let the magic lure you in." He was slowly fighting a losing battle against the smile tugging up the corners of his lips.

"...Oh, honey…" Shaking her head, Grace laughed softly, "You don't even need to try that hard. I'm lured… I'm so very, very lured…"

"Good," Khuyen said with a grin, dropping the pout. "Now, where were we again?"

"...I think…" Looking at him, the corner of her lip twitched up, a brow raised just slightly, "You were about to make up for disappointing me so badly…"

"Oh, come on!" he protested, throwing his hands into the air. "What happened to the luring, love? The eyes?" He sighed, pouting a little again. "...Does that mean there is a way to make it up to you?"

Grinning, she shrugged, "I'm a rock. Invincible to all luring." Crossing her arms, she looked him over, scrutinizingly, "I'm sure there's some way. I just don't know what it could possibly be…"

He gasped, "So you lied to me about the luring!" He ducked his head, lips still pursed, before looking back up at her slyly. He fiddled with his own fingers. "Surely there's something you want…."

Casually as she could, Grace shifted and slung her arms over his shoulders, eyes twisting up to the ceiling for a moment, as she leaned close - close as she had when she'd counted those freckles. Gaze finding his again, she smiled, "...Hm… maybe something…"

Khuyen stilled entirely entirely as Grace flung her arms around his shoulders, breath faltering as he found her close to his face once again. "Such as…?" he murmured with a smirk, heat starting to crawl up his neck once again.

"Hm…" Smiling coyly, she twisted her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck, and shrugged again, innocently, enough, "Dance with me, again. We never did get past step two."

His heart all but slammed itself against his ribcage as she threaded her fingers through his hair. He let out a breath, one he hadn't realized he was holding, as she told him what she wanted. "Sure. I can definitely do that," he said, his composure mostly recovered in spite of the flush on his face.

With a nimble slide, she dropped down off the bar, but her arms remained where they were, as she gave a small, ginger nod, "...So… what's the next move, Casanova?"

"The next move...is first to get out from behind the bar," Khuyen chuckled, gently guiding her out from behind the bar through the walkway. "But once that happens? We're going to spin."

"Wait…" Blinking, Grace allowed herself to be guided, but a brow rose and the amusement flickered away, instead replaced by sudden uncertainty, "Spin?? OH, Khu. You… you gonna get hurt…"

"Nope, this is what you said could make it up to you. So here's to spinning," he answered with a grin as he finally stepped into an open area, away from all the glass bottles and various items behind the bar. "Besides, I told you. You're not gonna break me."

"Emotionally!" She squeaked, as her eyes widened, "If you die, I'm not going to prison for it… You better believe that, Mister…"

"I meant it physically as well," he laughed, shaking his head. "So they're not taking you alive?" he asked, slowly starting to sway again, to get them both back into the rhythm.

Laughing, Grace shook her head, "I'm just gonna frame someone else, geez. Get with the program, Khu…" He swayed, and she clung, heart pounding slightly more than necessary, "...You sure I'm ready for this?"

"Oh, come on. You're going to take me out in a death spin move, and you won't even own up to it? Rude. Now I'm really hurt, Grace," he snickered, moving his arms so they wrapped around her as well. "I don't see why not. We'll take it slow, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah… I'll make it up to you, if I survive this mess…" Looking up as his arms came around her, she grinned a little mischievously, and shrugged her shoulders, "I mean… don't go too slow, there... I ain't that fragil-- OH you meant the spin. My bad."

"I look forward to it," Khuyen chuckled. He choked briefly at her next comment. "You-" he cut himself off as he cleared his throat, trying not to grin at her, "I might have spoken too soon. You're definitely going to be bad for my health." He leaned in a little closer to her face, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I'll keep that in mind for the future though."

Looking over at him, all without moving even so much as an inch away from that lean, her grin broadened and she shook her head, "...I have every intention, Khuyen, of being very good for your health… Now… We gonna do this spin, or not?"

"You have a very funny way of showing that," he huffed in amusement. "You are very eager for someone who was so concerned about wrecking me a few moments ago," he commented with a grin. He pulled her into a spin, feet turning as he kept his hands firmly planted at her sides to keep her from slipping away.

"Eager, because I just said something so much more forward than I even know what to do with and I'm hoping that this whole spin thing'll knock some sense back into my-- OH! Okay… we're doing this." He spun, and she clung tighter, with a small, anxious squeak, eyes squeezing shut, "Did I make it!? Oh Lord. Did I make it??"

Khuyen threw his head back in a laugh, cackling as he managed to hear why she was so eager to get that spin over with. He grinned as he slowed the spin, pulling the two of them back into a wobbly dance mostly involving swaying and steps again. "No. We're gone. It was such a catastrophe we just poofed out of existence."

"Oh, okay… Okay. Cool. Cool… I can… Yep. I can handle that…" Cracking open her eyes, barely, she looked up at him, and grinning, shook her head, "That was crazy! You… you are crazy! And nothing makes sense anymore. This is the weirdest night of my life, you know that? And I know a guy who talks to animals…"

He only laughed harder. He was beaming at her when he finally looked back up. "I'm absolutely crazy. The question is...is it a good weird or bad weird?" He looked entirely too pleased with himself for someone who'd essentially been called very weird. "Talking with animals has to be kind of cool, though. You have to admit. That cat that looks like it's seen things? Now you know exactly what that cat has seen, for better or worse."

"I might be crazy, too. Guh. But I don't think I even care. Crap… this is… it's a good weird, but I am definitely not used to it. I can't stop smiling, and my face hurts, and I'll probably get some kinda happiness hangover tomorrow, but hell, if it's not… wow." Shaking her head, she laughed again, "And I own that cat… well, sort of. Ollie and I… her name is Maisy."

Khuyen's smile didn't fade in the slightest as she continued. "I'm glad I could make your night," he said sincerely, before he shattered the moment by waggling his eyebrows at her for what had to have been the tenth time tonight alone. "You have a war story cat? Now you have to introduce me. I've got to learn her secrets."

Arms curving in a loop around his shoulders again, Grace nodded, "She came running after us, as we were driving away. Almost got my head shot off for the sassy little bitch, but she's worth it. Don't be too surprised if she doesn't love you right away, though. She and I? We got a little bit of this prickly, hard to break vibe going on…"

"I'll win her over, slowly but surely. Someone has told me recently that I have a thing for knocking down walls," he chuckled, arms relaxing a little as he let them return to just swaying in the middle of the tavern floor.

"That you do…" Tipping her forehead down, she rest it against his shoulder, "Hey… we've been dancin' a whole what… five minutes, now? And I haven't stepped on your feet not one time… And seeing how we survived that spin, I guess I owe you, right? For the whole… framing someone for your death thing…"

"No, you haven't. Now I think you've just been exaggerating this whole 'two left feet and an allergy to rhythm' thing," he teased, looking over at her as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I guess you kind of do, What's my prize, love?"

Straightening, she shook her head, "Ho… Funny. Exaggerating? You have any idea how many people I've trampled, just walking through night clubs? I'm like an elephant on the dancefloor…" Looking up at him, her eyes catching his, she smiled, "...Prize? Hmm… Maybe you're lookin' at it. Want it?"

"And yet, I haven't seen any of that. I'm in one piece, there's no shoe prints on me anywhere. I'm still standing and mostly unbruised. Where's the elephant, Grace? I see no elephant in this room," he asked, gesturing with one arm at the empty tavern. Something shifted subtly in his expression as he flicked his gaze over her. "That's...very tempting. You don't want the answer to that," he said, voice dropping into a purr once again, "because I'm not a 'on the first date' kind of guy now, love."

"Oi… Would you just.. Let me be a dang elephant, Wall Breaker?" A laugh escaped, both at the absurdity of that statement, and his words, alone. But as he continued, she felt her cheeks flush again, breathing in sharply, "...Technically… if you count our earlier encounter, when you were working… this could be considered the second date." Eyes flickering up to his, she smirked, "...I kinda do want the answer."

"Nope. Too cute. If you're an elephant, then you're a baby one," he teased. "I don't count earlier, because that was a chance meeting, and I was working. That's what led to the date, the one that you asked me on. Even if I did, I'm not a second date guy either, Grace." He shook his head at her, smiling. "You sure you want the answer to that? There's no going back if you say yes."

"A baby elephant… God. Do you hear yourself?" Laughing again, she shook her head, and as he continued, she bit the edge of her lip, considering his words. This wasn't just playing with fire, anymore. This was something else. Something she couldn't just run away from, if she wanted to…

"...Yes."

"No, I just tune myself out and hope for the best," he snorted. "I'm trying to say you're cute, Grace. Just let me have that much," he added, rolling his eyes. He tilted his head, looking at her. He slowly, carefully slid a hand up her neck into her hair, his palm resting just under her ear. "I think you're gorgeous, and don't give yourself nearly enough credit." He leaned in a little closer, close enough she could probably count the flecks in his eyes again if she wanted. "I think you deserve the chance to know what it's like to be valued. So yes, I want it, and I'd love to have the chance to show you exactly what being valued feels like."

He leaned in closer, mouth nearly touching the shell of her ear. "But again, I'm not a first or second date kind of guy, and I don't plan on rushing anything."

Valued...

Her eyes closed as he leaned in, expression softening. It wasn't that she couldn't run. It was simply that she didn't want to. Whatever had happened over the last few days… with Ollie. With this… Gettings that flash of life ending… discovering that she could let people. In had awakened something, and she didn't want to push it down… push it away…

Valued...

"...So…" she continued, breathless, the corner of her lip turning up slightly, "Third date, then?" But it was a tease, it was only a tease… and leaning back just enough to meet his eyes, her smile relaxed, "...You read minds, too, Khu? That your secret weapon?"

This was dangerous. He knew it. Knew it all too well. He knew what it took for him to fall, for him to suddenly find himself daydreaming about things he wouldn't and couldn't have. He didn't want to mess with this, whatever it was, by getting too wrapped up in his own heart that he couldn't see straight anymore. Yet, here he was. He knew exactly what that erratic little thunk of his heart against his ribcage meant earlier, and he knew what it meant now.

He was about to slip off the edge, and he was going to fall hard.

Khuyen grinned at her anyway, despite his better judgement. "I'd maybe consider it, then," he teased back, pulling away enough he could meet her gaze. "I'm afraid not. No telepathy here. My only weapon is hardly a secret." He pulled his hand away from her neck and out of her hair with a cheeky grin. "All I have to do for someone to find it is turn around, apparently."

"Nah, Khu…" Smiling gently, she shook her head, and reaching, she laid a hand to his chest, her palm just barely pressing, nearly hovering, as she met his gaze,"This right here? This is the moneymaker. The rest of it? That's just eye candy, you know?"

He gave her a shaky sort of smile as she pressed her palm to his chest. "You sure you're not trying to butter me up for that third date?" he asked.

"Oh, absolutely." She grinned, giving a firm nod. There was nothing in her suggestion now that indicated she was anything but absolutely serious, "But it's also true. The eye candy part, too…"

Khuyen looked at her for a short while before shaking his head. "You're definitely going to be bad for my health," he murmured before grinning. "Thank you. But... if all this is eye candy, does that mean this is heart candy?" He pointed to his own chest, biting his lip to fight back a laugh.

"Like… those cheesy valentine's candies with the weirdly possessive writing on them? Oh yeah, for sure." Giving his chest a pat, she stepped back, just slightly, not far enough to seem uneasy… not far enough that those little freckles in his eyes couldn't be numbered any which way, "This has been fun… But I should probably get back. I'm tryin' real hard to behave myself, but hell if you don't make that an awful difficult. I dunno what's gonna happen next with all of this stuff going on, with what Nick wants to do, but… I plan to see you again, real soon, Khu…"

"Of course, what else? All I ask is that when you see those flavorless sugar hearts, you think of me and my incredible bar cleaning skills." He pulled away as well, taking his hand off her side. "I'm doing my best to lure you in, you know," he teased. "But it is kind of late. Who knows what you're about to be up to? In any case, stay in touch with me, Wonder Girl." He gave her a small wave.

Stepping back, Grace's brow rose, as se looked down for a moment. The world she'd been thrust into, the moment Asher had found her, had been grim and dark… and while there were bits and pieces of light and color, nothing had felt anything quite the way it had in the last few hours…

Ironically, half the reason she wanted to leave at all, was because it would feel so good… so good, to tell Ollie all about it… Maybe leaving out a few details…

But the world she'd been thrust into wasn't done with her, just yet. And until it was, there was always a chance, too much of a chance… that she might never see Khuyen again. And that was… unacceptable.

Suddenly stepping forward, Grace let a hand slide to his jaw and pushing up onto her toes, she pressed a kiss to the edge of his lips, before she pulled away, "...See you…"

Khuyen hadn't seen it coming. It was why, when she pressed a kiss to the edge of his lips, he hadn't been able to process it quickly enough to respond before she pulled away. It was also why he looked at Grace with wide eyes as she pulled away to leave, perfectly stunned.

He was slipping, slipping over the edge, and with a kiss, she'd tipped him over. Now, he was falling.

"See you…" he echoed softly, voice barely audible as he continued to watch her with the stunned expression he hadn't yet recovered from.

 

[Mobley Eats]

Lady with the Lemons, Part I | Megan and Aja @WingWong | Location: Ink Shop


Aja flicked her gaze up to the sky as she approached the building before her. It was a gorgeous day, blue skies and birds singing, and there was no doubt Megan would have something to say about it. There was little, in Aja's mind, that Megan didn't have something to say about. It wasn't like she minded, though. It was entertaining, and interesting to find things in a new perspective. Megan...definitely offered new perspective.

It was why she was smiling as she walked up to the doors of the Ink Shack and slipped inside. Megan had mentioned her coming by, apparently having something in mind to talk about, and Aja had decided this was as good a day as any. The shop didn't seem too busy at the moment, and she waited, curious to know if Megan had heard her come in or not.

Megan couldn't understand how her precious shop could be abuzz with overwhelming company, yet a complete ghost town at the same time. Ever since her Fudge Bug had moved out with glitter piss (yes, she was still a tad salty about it), the shack had lost… something. She had a more definitive term to describe it, but she couldn't really stomach saying it, let alone accepting it. It still hurt to lose her kid. It hurt like hell. But, despite everyone's impression of her (which she had less than zero fucks to give about), she wasn't a total selfish bitch. And she wasn't blind to the truth.

Ozno was his own man. She couldn't afford to smother him forever, especially not when he'd formed a… bond with the damn fairy. Plus, she knew that he could handle a business on his own just fine, he just needed a little boost, an encouraging push, and she'd be one slack guardian to deprive him of that.

Huh… Damn, her thoughts were running away from her. Shaking her head and grumbling to herself, Megan padded through the shop on bare feet, gaze just as lazy as the business that day. It wasn't a big deal anyhow; the other asswipes that always stormed her shop and demanded free tats more than made up for it.

Megan strolled from one room to another, then froze, eyes narrowing. She slowly backtracked, hoping that it was just a flicker of her imagination…

Fuck. Nope. That was definitely who she thought it was. "Fucking. Hell," she groaned, head tossing back briefly in mourning as she approached the woman. She stood before her, posture erect and chest puffed out with hands on her hips… looking up at Aja. Hell, wasn't as if her short stature was ever a disadvantage in the past, it wouldn't be an insecurity now. "Lemon, I could've fucking sworn that we talked about making sounds with your feet," she grumbled, gesturing to the appendages in question.

Aja smiled faintly as she watched Megan walk right past her, only for the tattoo artist to backtrack a few moments later. She noted the dejected posture, the sullen expression, almost out of habit. If she didn't know that Megan would deny it in a heartbeat, she might even say it looked like the other woman was sulking.

"Did we?" Aja asked in response, head tilted. The knowing smile on her face suggested she was well aware of said conversation, and did in fact remember it. As Megan gestured, she looked down and lifted a booted foot. "I guess I'll have to work on that," she added as she put her foot back down and looked back up at Megan. "I brought you something, by the way." She pulled a tupperware container from her relatively large purse, grinning all the while. "In case your sweet tooth starts acting up."

"Fuck yeah you will," Megan grumbled, annoyance bubbling to the surface. There was something downright infuriating about how calm and cheeky Aja was around her. All. The. Time. The tattoo artist was so accustomed to others shying away (fleeing) from her or returning the hostility; and yet, here was this little shithead yanking the rug out from underneath her every single time.

Her sharp gaze snapped down to the tupperware, a soft scoff escaping her as she accepted it slowly. From first glance, it looked damn good, and partial removal of the lid confirmed that it smelled even better. Worst of all, Aja was right--Megan had a bit of a sweet tooth. Regardless, she refused to let even an iota of how pleased she was seep into her visage. She turned her back on Aja, marching over to the nearest counter and setting it down, right next to a platter full of desserts the woman had brought over recently. "So what's your ulterior motive, lemon? You trying to sweet talk me with… err, sweets?"

Megan momentarily cringed. Fuck. That was dumb.

Aja didn't immediately respond, though the sly smile alone certainly said enough. Work on it she would. Her smile widened as Megan took the container of berry cheesecake bars, lifting the lid just enough so that the smell of blueberry reached her nose as well. The baked goods were mostly blueberry, though she'd added a few others she had on hand, so it wasn't truly fair to call them blueberry cheesecake. There was, after all, so much more to these bars. Still, she was quietly pleased as Megan took them and set them down with the results of the rest of her recent baking escapades.

"Who, me? Try to sweet talk you and bribe you with an unholy amount of sugar? I'm not sure who you've mistaken me for, Megan, but I feel like I need to have a talk with them," she said, brow quirked. "No ulterior motive. Just wanted to stop by, see how you were doing."

Megan seated herself on a nearby stool, spinning around once to face Aja. And no, she didn't also do that because a tiny and barely breathing part of herself was still a child--fuck off. She snagged a bar from the container and stole a huge chunk from it, very much akin to an ill-mannered cavewoman. She was starving. Aja's retort weeded an eyeroll out of her, though that wasn't far from the usual. "I don't make mistakes, ya little buttcrack. But if you wanna have a lecture with yourself, I've got more than enough corners for you to choose from."

A reminder of her short stature came to light as her legs swung idly, feet nowhere near touching the floor as she quirked an eyebrow. "Huh… See how I'm doing, she says. Rich." Megan heaved a sighed while brushing back her bangs; she would need another dye job soon. "I'm just dander-fucking-rific, Lemon. Never better. Mmkay, survey done."

Aja followed after her, purposely walking heavy on her own heels, so that her footsteps were very loud. She leaned against the counter, biting back a laugh as most of the cheesecake bar disappeared before her eyes. "Well, how are they?" she prodded as Megan chewed. She grinned, eyes bright, as she spoke. "Oh, now we're sticking me in corners? You're making me sound like I'm some sort of troublesome child, Megan."

Her lips pursed disbelievingly. Right. Yeah, she was so definitely fine. That was a likely story. "Really? You're doing perfectly fine?" Aja asked in return, her makeshift therapist voice from when she was at work creeping in. "Mmhm. Is that why you were all but sulking around here before you noticed me?"

Meg's right eye twitched with every stomp, free hand raising, itching, begging to wrap around this little fucker's neck and just… just… She released a long sigh tinted with defeat. Two fingers massaged her temple, eyes closed even as the woman spoke to her. "Ya know what? Fuck the corner and sticking you in it. I'd rather stick something else up your ass," she growled, eyes opening slowly to reveal the gaze of dull death. However, Aja's earlier question finally registered and she shrugged, eyes straying to the side. "S'good, I guess. I haven't died yet."

It was the following deduction that forced Meg to lock eyes with her again, pure warning radiating from her form. Comically so. "Fuck off," she hissed, face a soft shade of red, "I don't sulk!"

Aja merely grinned as she watched Megan rub her temple. She threw her head back in a laugh. "Try to be gentle with me, Megan. I'm not used to that kind of excitement," she snorted, stealing one of her own sweet treats from the tupperware container and taking a bite out of it. "You know, death isn't exactly a good comparison to make with how you're feeling. Mostly because I hear dying is bad for your health."

She'd definitely pegged that reaction. A near immediate denial of sulking. Aja nodded sagely, as if she had all the wisdom in the world. "Of course. You're right. You don't sulk," she agreed before a playfully sad look crossed her face. "You mope," she teased, "Or is brooding more your style?"

"Bitch, never come into my shack expecting gentle anything," Meg scoffed. She was already chowing down on a second bar, not even trying to hide how pleased she was with Aja's creation by now. Besides, free food was free food; she'd be damn near inhuman to turn that down out of pride. She had another snarky comeback in the works; however, it was promptly steamrolled by the woman's moping remark and the heat in her face practically doubled along with the annoyance.

She jabbed a single finger at the woman, the air around her downright crackling with barely restrained "watch your mouth before you lose it" fury. "I don't sulk. I don't mope. And I brood whenever the fuck I feel like. Just… not right now. So. There." A beat. "And fuck off. Again. Tart ass gremlin."

"Fair enough," Aja cackled with a shiteating grin. "That wasn't bad, even if I do say so myself," she added, sucking a little bit of blueberry off one of her fingers. She was definitely pleased to see Megan was enjoying them too.

She was wholly unfazed as Megan turned a menacing pointed finger onto her. "Mmhm," she hummed. She frowned slightly, almost as if genuinely hurt, before she spoke again. "You know, Megan, it's not good to talk about yourself that way," she advised before sighing, more serious now. "You know it's okay to miss him, right?" She'd heard about Ozno moving out around the time Megan herself was finding out. She was also aware, despite how much Megan would never admit it, of how much she absolutely loved the kid.

The change of tone wasn't missed on Megan's part and it made her shift uncomfortably; she'd known Aja long enough to guess where this tone of voice was leading and she wasn't prepared for it in the slightest. She bit the inside of her cheek, almost hard enough to bleed, as her hands clasped around one another tightly on the counter. She still avoided eye contact at all costs. "Don't you dare even think of Dr. Phil-ing me right now," she said, "Of course I… It just feels weird. But fuck it. He's a grown man. Discussion over."

"Dr. Phil airs dirty laundry for the sake of entertainment and embarrassment, then sweeps it under the rug to say the problem is fixed," Aja retorted dryly, shaking her head. "And I'm definitely not doing that." She watched as Megan completely avoided meeting her eyes. "Of course it feels weird. There's nothing wrong with that, with admitting that and feeling it. Yes, he's a grown man, and he's entitled to his own life and decisions. Those still affect you, though. I'm not saying stop him, just that it's okay to admit you miss him. It's okay to feel a little displaced." She very obviously ignored the 'discussion over' bit as she looked at her friend, brow furrowed.

"You're not wrong…" Meg admitted begrudgingly. Dr. Phil was nothing more than a cue ball asshole with a face entirely too bushy to be natural or appealing on TV. Although, she still recalled the days Ozno would ramble how he'd love to touch the host's facial hair one day, just to find out the texture and… and fuck, she was thinking about him again. Her lids briefly fluttered in agitation; whether the sentiment was directed towards herself or Aja remained a mystery. Probably both. For once, she didn't have an immediate reply; the tattoo artist merely stared, using every drop of her will power to exude an unimpressed aura. As if her words meant nothing to her.

But hell, that was never the case with Aja. And that pissed Megan off on so many different levels.

"...I'm lighting up," she grumbled, evacuating the stool before any protests could form, and stomping over to a cabinet holding her "emergency stash". It was usually reserved for dealing with asshole customers or celebrating a job well done on Ozno's… part… For fuck's sake. Jaw tight with tension, she was back with what she needed to roll two joints, shooting Aja an expectant glare. "You lighting up with me or am I burning this shit on my own?" Was this somewhat a desperate attempt to change the subject? Hell fucking yes. But Megan didn't like to lose, especially not to herself and the bitter shit storm swirling inside her chest. Not in front of Aja. Or anyone.

"Of course I'm not. That wad of nosehair shouldn't be on TV." Aja may or may not have strong opinions about Dr. Phil. Said opinions were not the current focus in her mind, however. She was about to continue, to try to reassure and validate Megan with what she was feeling, when the subject was changed. She raised an eyebrow. She'd have to circle back around to that, then.

"I won't say no," Aja replied in response to being asked to light up. "You need a lighter?" She had one somewhere in her purse. It was a hellscape in that purse, but she at least knew where her lighter was. Maybe she'd get lucky, and be able to get through to Megan when they were both stoned. Here's to hoping.

"You doubting my prowess now?" Megan retracted her own lighter (seemingly out of nowhere like some pothead magician) with a lopsided grin; although it was a small victory over Aja, she would take one any day. She lit the end of her joint first before lighting the other and, without asking or care, shoved it in between Aja's lips. She leaned back into her seat, propping her feet up on the counter and letting the drug's soothing effects wash over her.

God--she needed this.

"I'd never," Aja snorted with her own eye roll, though she was definitely concerned about where that lighter came from. Sleight of hand was going to have to be something she learned how to do one day. Then again, maybe Megan was a pot magician. It would hardly be the strangest thing to happen to her. She managed to open her mouth in time to avoid having a blunt crammed into her lips. She lifted herself onto the counter, sitting cross legged with the baked goods. "Thanks," she said, sticking her tongue out at the other woman, before taking a slow drag with all the expertise of someone who's definitely smoked more than once.

For the first time since Aja arrived, relatively peaceful silence settled over the pair, Megan far too focused on inhaling as much weed into her system as possible. She was in desperate need of stress relief and didn't particularly care how loose she would wind up being around that little lemon tart. No skin off her nose. The relaxation trickled in slowly at first; there was the slightly less tense muscles, followed by a floating sensation filling her skull. Pleasant. Freeing her of current frustrations. However, once a handful of minutes passed, the pure reprieve finally rolled in and Megan found herself giggling at some stray memory of her judo kicking some crackhead in the groin after he had shot an unsavory look in young Ozno's direction. Hah, good times. Good times.

"Heh… the good ole days," she muttered, her voice still taught with defensiveness, but with a hint of something lax lurking underneath.

It hit Aja slowly, as it usually did, as she took another couple of drags off the blunt. Her already largely untense muscles uncoiled further, leaving her utterly relaxed. A couple minutes of lightheadedness before that faded, leaving Aja with just the high. Her pensive face from before eased into a lazy smile, and soon enough, she was a pliant and totally relaxed, if not slightly sluggish, version of herself.

"What about them?" she found herself asking from her seat on the counter, head tilting.

"Eh…" Megan hummed, head falling back even further to take in the ceiling lazily. "The usual shit… Groin kicking crackheads. Throat chopping assholes. Taking my Fudge Bug to the fair… All that good shit." She pulled some more from her joint, exhaling a thick cloud and watching it contort overhead with faint interest.

"That's the usual shit?" Aja giggled, practically doubling over as they overtook her for a moment. She eventually straightened up, as much as she would anyway, though the smile stayed. "Does sound like good shit, though," she admitted, leaning back as she watched the smoke rise towards the ceiling.

If Megan was sober, she would've somehow found an insult in Aja's reaction, but she wasn't sober. She was higher than a kite. And the sound of laughter was far too infectious to ignore. A chain of giggles escaped her as well, though she did her best to muffle them against her forearm, a snort sneaking in between. She tried to nudge Aja with her foot, but her trajectory was off, merely kicking at air. She grunted at the failure. "Fuck yeah it is. Err, used to be, anyway. Man…" She palmed her forehead, letting the warmth from her skin seep into her floaty skull. "What I wouldn't give to get that good shit back." A cheeky raising of her joint. "This the only good shit I got now, lemon. It's fucked."

A short second giggle fit hit Aja as Megan missed when she attempted to nudge her. She pulled from her joint, attempting to blow a ring in the smoke, as Megan spoke again. She slowly, with a slightly wavering hand, poked the other woman's shoulder. "You still have good shit, though. You can find more, too," she commented. When she was high, the words she might've been able to use when sober seemed to dance just out of her reach. She tried for a moment, to think of them, of a good way to word what she wanted to say, but gave up, deciding to use what was available. "You can still have it sometimes, too. When he visits? He's not gone. It'll still be good shit. Different, but the same."

Megan's brain tried to put together the gist of Aja's response, though it took a Herculean amount of concentration on her part. Maybe it wasn't wise to dip into the emergency staff after all; this stuff was insanely potent. Regardless, she snorted and shook her head, before it lazily cocked to the side to penetrate Aja with a glare. "Don't poke me, dammit. Gonna… gonna lose that fucking finger." A very empty threat, but one that she felt the natural need to toss out. "And that's not it, goddammit. That's not… Ugh."

She flopped back again, dipped head to toe in utter defeat… But she may have flopped a little too hard. The next thing she knew, her chair swayed, teetering on its hind legs precariously. The woman flailed, reaching out for the counter to catch herself, but a combination of in-denial-sulking and clouded marijuana senses made her fingers fall just shy of its target. "Fucking shit, fucking hell, shitshitshit!"

Aja wiggled her finger at Megan, well aware it was an empty threat, with a wide grin. "What is it, then?" she asked, head tilted as she watched Megan curiously. Her shoulders shook with a silent laugh as the other woman flopped in her chair. She reached out with both hands when she saw Megan start to fall, offering a chance of futile salvation from Megan landing on the floor. "Don't fall," she added helpfully.

Oh. Look at this unhelpful ass trying to save Megan of the inevitable. She didn't know whether to use her last moment of upright security to flip the woman off or try to kick at her outstretched hands like a vengeful toddler…

No, she had a better idea. Far more petty than her previous ideas combined. You're going down with me, bitch! Frantically, she latched onto Aja's wrist and finally succumbed to the will of gravity, hurtling towards the floor with lemon in tow. Was she feeling a tad triumphant? For sure. But that feeling wouldn't last for long--she just knew it.

Aja squawked eloquently as she was drug off the counter in one swift motion, having not seen a floor related death in her future when she'd offered her hands to Megan. She probably should have, really, but here she was. Heading directly for the floor.

Her elbow connected with the floor first after Megan had grabbed her wrist, when she'd tried to catch herself a little too late. Megan would end up taking most of her fall, but a wounded elbow was definitely the start of her petty revenge. "Ow," she said with a grimace, clutching her elbow as she tried to roll away, even as her giggles started up again at imagining how that must've looked. She just got snatched. The thought sent her into another fit, leaving her laying on the ground as she laughed.

Ah… yep. Yeah. She didn't feel like a winner anymore, not when over half of the oxygen in Megan's lungs evacuated as her back smacked into the floor. That scenario unfolded a bit more smoothly in her foggy mind. Only a faint wheeze escaped her as she laid there, eyes screwed shut and trying to remember what dignity even felt like. God--she would miss that sentiment dearly.

Before she could sink any lower into humiliation, the sound of laughter pierced her thoughts, annoyingly familiar and lacking any agitation that she figured the woman would have. Meg slapped a hand over her eyes, heaving a pained groan. "Stop laughing you… you fucking giggle fuck," she muttered. "Stop. I said st… f-fuck off with that." And yet, even as she protested, giggles were already erupting out of her and escaping against her will. Dammit. Of all the assholes she knew, why did this one's laughter have to travel around so much?

Megan also laid there, admitting defeat and letting the laughter fill the space around them. "F-fucking hate you," she muttered between her bouts of chuckling.

"Giggle-fuck," Aja wheezed before snorting, loudly, as she laughed even harder. She'd tried to clasp her hands over her mouth at the snort, a sound she might've been a little more embarrassed by if she were sober. As it happened though, that was hardly enough to stop her as she continued, her laughter occasionally cut with more snorts.

She laid on her back, still clutching her elbow, as her laughter slowly started to taper off. "Love you too, butt," she told Megan, grinning up at the ceiling. "Hey Megan?"

By some miracle, Megan was able to recuperate a handful of seconds later, her hazy gaze also roaming the ceiling. She hummed distractedly in response. "What, Lemon."

"I'm glad we're friends," Aja told her, blinking at the ceiling with a wide smile. "I know I'm not Oz. But I'm here."

Megan also blinked, though her motion was entirely out of astonishment. She'd… never had someone other than Ozno admit that they were glad to be associated with her. It was weird to hear. Incredibly odd. Just flat out foreign and with all things foreign, she had no clue how to process it. She refused to look away from the ceiling. "Um… yeah, uh. You're right. You're not him." The same hand from before pushed stray hairs from her visage, mind working double overtime to compensate. "Guess that's not a shitty thing, either." She fell silent for another moment, barely having enough courage left to breathe. "Err… I'm… glad too, or whatever. Maybe. Fuck, forget I said anything," she grumbled, face growing hot.

Aja laughed as Megan stumbled over herself for the right words. Had Megan left it at just saying she wasn't Ozno, there might've been the barest hint of hurt in her face, but as she continued, her smile only grew. "I know what you mean. Thanks," she told her, gently patting the other woman's arm. "I'm glad to not be a shitty thing."

If Megan had the energy for it, she would've rolled away from the pat, but she didn't. She settled for a weird cross between a hum and a grumble, casting Aja a brief glance from her peripherals. "Don't get me wrong, you are a little shit, but I've seen shittier." Like herself, for example. She was hands down the shittiest human being around. No contest. And now, it seemed that maybe, terrifyingly so, her Fudge Bug started to realize the same thing. So he left. That had to be part of the reason why he did… So why in the ever living Hell did Aja deal with her? It made absolutely zero sense to Megan. The tattoo artist bit the inside of her cheek, her cold toes curling in and out thoughtlessly. "Two shits just makes a big ass mess, Lemon. You know that." For the first time since they collapsed, she looked at Aja. "Seriously, what's your deal? You get a kick out of hanging around crazy bitches or something? I just don't… get it."

That earned another laugh from Aja as she shook her head. She didn't even try to protest her ability to be an absolute shit. She was well aware, and she was certain several people around her knew it quite well, too. "Meg, that just makes it sound like someone's a serial shitter. Just dropping their pants and treating the world like their toilet," she commented, unable to wipe the smile from her face at the phrase 'serial shitter. She looked over at Megan as she continued, able to be serious for more than a few seconds to sincerely answer her question.

"I do genuinely like being around you. The way you talk to people, the way you show you care, is a lot different. It doesn't mean that you don't care, it means you show it in ways people either don't notice or think means something else. You still care for them, it's...just in your own way. I don't think that makes you a crazy bitch. Just makes you a little at odds with everybody else," she explained, shrugging lightly as she laid one arm over her stomach. "I see it for what it is, instead of what other people see, I guess. Or at least I think I do. You're different, but I've never exactly been conventional anyway." She paused, taking a breath. "I was going somewhere with this…"

"A serial… shitter… And here I thought I was the one with a fucked imagination," Megan chuckled, disbelief and amusement making an eyebrow arch. However, her features smoothed over and fell with further shock, taking in Lemon's response slowly, one word at a time. Just as the tattoo artist thought Aja couldn't say anything else to throw her off her game, she continued to do so without an end in sight. She parted her lips to speak, to toss out some sort of reply that carried the perfect balance of snark and sass, but only silence escaped her.

Mind scrambling, she rose to her feet, ignoring the throbs pouding dully at her nerves. She held a hand out to Aja, expression carefully indifferent. And yet, no matter how hard she tried, there was no denying the way her eyes softened. If only a little. "You've gone far enough. And uh… thanks. I guess. No," her brow furrowed, "I know I'm grateful, lemon. Even if you keep busting into my damn shack without permission."

Megan's comment had earned one more laugh out of Aja, to which she also made no move to deny a screwed up imagination. She watched as the other woman rose to her feet, blinking a moment before realizing there was a hand reaching out to her. For a very brief moment, she considered repaying the tattoo artist's pettiness with her own, but decided against it. There were already injured elbows involved here today, and it might mess with the atmosphere. She sat up, taking Megan's hand to pull herself to her feet as well. "No problem," she assured with a smile before snorting. "Oh, come on. You know you like it. Besides, I come bearing gifts when I bust in," she added with a chuckle, gesturing to the small bakery selection of goods she'd brought Megan that currently sat on the counter.

"Don't push it," Megan grumbled, staring up at the woman and remembering their height difference bitterly. Damn tower of terror. But, she could admit that Aja's visits were far more tolerable due to the sweets she always brought over, though she always had to bat off greedy customers from snagging a few for themselves. Stupid Bubba and his grubby hands. The tattoo artist was just about to clean up the mess they left behind on her counter, but a low rumble emitting from her stomach stopped her in her tracks.

Damn--the munchies were kicking in already? That stash really was some strong shit. Heaving a sigh, she started heading towards the back. "I'm calling in a pizza. What toppings are we feeling? And if you say olives, I will fucking murder you," she drawled, the usual fire behind a threat lacking in her tone.

Aja stuck out her tongue before grinning down at her friend. "Alright, no olives today, since I want to live to eat this pizza," she laughed as she followed behind Megan to the back. Her footsteps were back to their usual near-silent quality, her point in making sure she could be heard momentarily forgotten at the mention of food. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until pizza had been brought up. "Are mushrooms safe? And peppers? And onions? Or more tomatoes, like that old place on the corner did before they closed down?" she asked, ticking off more toppings as she walked.

Megan's nose scrunched up as she listened to the long list Aja rattled off. The actual fuck? What was she trying to order, the entire menu? Well, then again, that didn't sound like a bad idea either… but she knew her account would respond with a clear "bitch, you thought". They reached the entrance separating the shop from the lounge in the back and as Meg stepped inside, she immediately locked onto her laptop. It was always better to order online anyhow--she fucking hated talking to people over the phone.

Or… in general.

"Can't afford to call in the whole damn restaurant," Megan said, her lazy fingers typing carefully. The fog was still rolling through her skull, so she had to apply extra focus into what she was doing. "Mushrooms, tomatoes, maybe some onions and italian sausage, lemon. Deal with it," she said with a lopsided smirk.

"That sounds like such a good idea, though," Aja protested, lips pursed as she stepped into the lounge. She slipped off her shoes there, where a place of business melded away into a place that was closer to a home to Megan. "I'll help pay if you put peppers on it, and add a side of mozzarella sticks," she offered, as a challenge to Megan attempting to put her foot down. She had a little extra money laying around, from saving up for another tattoo. She'd have to push it back a little, but peppers on her pizza and mozzarella sticks were on the line here.

Megan immediately shot Aja a sharp glare. "Oi, this is my house. I don't make deals with giggle fucks, got it?" She then nodded towards a shelf on the other end of the room; it didn't hold a terrible amount of books, but just enough to reveal that either she or Ozno was a partial reader. "Grab Hunger Games. Mockingjay." She failed to clarify why she even asked Aja to do so, attention falling back to her computer screen as she finished the order.

"Even when giggle fucks make fantastic deals? I'll pay the tip too, Meg. The peppers, Megan. Think of the peppers," Aja asked, apparently unperturbed by the glare if her smile was anything to go by. She lifted an eyebrow, curious, as she stepped away. There was a reason why, she was sure. She just didn't know what that reason was. She walked to the bookshelf, padding softly on sock feet, before grabbing the book from its resting place.

"All I'm thinking about is how good it'd feel to smack your dopey ass," Megan said while accepting the book. She stared at the cover for a moment, hesitance seizing her, before she expelled it as a sigh and opened the novel. A square was cut into the pages, revealing a hollowed out space holding a thick wad of cash. It was backup in case Ozno ever ran out of medicine and needed more stat; but, now that he had moved out and started his own business… She retracted an extra twenty. It would be more than enough to cover the peppers and mozzarella sticks.

With a groan, she placed the laptop aside and plopped onto the nearest piece of furniture, which was a worn leather sofa. "Here's to hoping it's not the same bitch ass delivery boy who keeps pissing himself at my door," she muttered.

"Come get me then," Aja teased with a roll of her eyes as she handed over the book. She watched, eyebrows lifting with surprise as Megan pulled an extra bill from the wad of cash. That was more than plenty to cover peppers and mozzarella sticks, which she most definitely did see ordered. Uh-uh, no. She offered Megan money for that. She pursed her lips as she looked at Megan. It was her scheming face and she was definitely scheming. She'd have to figure out how to pay her back…

"Be nice to him. He's never seen tigers before," Aja snorted, plopping down nearby onto the sofa as well.

Megan's right eye twitched. "Just you fucking wait 'til I'm sober, Lemon," she growled. If she tried to pounce now, the outcome would likely be the same as before. Her lying on the floor, supine and regretting her decisions, and Aja laughing her ass off. However, some disgust seeped into her visage as she attempted to nudge the woman off her couch. "The fuck? Be nice? You trying to kill me, lemon?"

"Can't wait," Aja cackled, unperturbed in the slightest by Megan's grumpy growling. Either Megan would forget, or she wouldn't. And if she didn't, Aja was sure she'd get her vengeance some way or another. Still, Megan would have to catch her first. She grinned as Megan tried to nudge her away, and she latched onto the cushion. "Fair enough. That's a bit too much for your system for one day," she snorted. "How about we try not to make him pee himself too much."

Megan's face scrunched up. "...That's still asking for a lot, lemon, but I'll try." Well, she'd try with a minimal percentage of her total effort; she'd never said she would apply full effort, especially not for the sake of some youngin she barely knew. Fuck that. Regardless, what mattered even more in that moment is the level of audacity Aja to resist her nudging. This was her couch, goddammit!

The tattoo artist's eyes narrowed into a warning glare. "Oi," she gave a slightly harder nudge into Aja's side, "Fuck off my furniture, giggle fu-..." Then she tensed. And immediately fell silent. Her head cocked to the side ever so slightly, right eye squinting. "...You heard something?" Megan wasn't losing her mind and she refused to toss it up to lingering effects of weed.

She had definitely heard something.

 

[WingWong]

Lady With the Lemons Part 2
Collab: Aja and Megan @Mobley Eats
Location: Ink Shack

---

"That's all I ask," Aja replied, hands held to either side in a pleased sort of shrug. Try tended to mean 'half-hearted but I'll sort of maybe kinda do it' with Megan, but Aja would take it. She raised an eyebrow at Megan's glare before yelping in surprise at the harder nudge. Despite this, she stayed firmly planted exactly where she was on the couch, though with a little more effort this time. She stuck out her tongue, about to reply when she heard something, soft but there. Megan tensed up, and Aja stilled as well.


"I think so. I'm not sure what, though," she replied, her voice low, as if she kept quiet she would be able to hear it again.


And she did. The noise was slightly louder this time around and resonated in both of the women's ears as a faint jiggling. As if someone was trying to open a door--or break in. A scowl immediately pulled at Megan's features, her hands curling into fists. "Break in," she grumbled while standing up, "Fucker's picked the wrong damn place."


Aja's expression pulled into a frown as she said nothing. She simply stood. She flexed her hand, loosening some of the ink under her skin in case it was needed. She looked over at Megan, taking her cues from the person who lived here. "Shame it couldn't have been the pizza guy," she pouted.


"Yeah. Shame." Megan didn't make a move at first. Her eyes merely narrowed, staring at the back entrance and studying the way the handle jiggled. It started off slowly, tentatively, before some aggression and impatience seeped through. With a nod, she silently gestured for Aja to take up the left side of the door while she slid over to the right. The weed hadn't faded completely from her system, but the fury managed to sharpen her senses long enough to thoroughly decimate the fucktard who dared to break into her shop. Locking eyes with Aja, she mouthed, "On three" and raised a single finger.


One.


Aja slipped towards the left of the door, her own expression turning steely. She flexed her hand. The ink on one of her legs rippled then bubbled up. It coiled into solid form, sliding down her leg as the pair of dragons that had been inked on the entirety of her leg came to life. Their tails flopped to the floor with a soft smack. They raised to their feet, curling in front of Aja. They were poised to strike. She flexed her other hand, the ink on her other leg loosening, and before long, she was left with a sword in hand.


Her gaze met Megan's and she nodded, bracing herself for a potential fight.


Two.


Watching Aja's abilities manifest almost made Megan's lips twitch into a smirk. Lemon was damn annoying, but she couldn't deny how impressive that ink of hers could be. Regardless, she settled down into her own stance, weight balanced evenly from hip to the heel of her hind foot, and reached out slowly for the knob.


The jiggling grew more violent, the lock close to giving way…


Three.


A sharp crack! sliced through the shop as the door swung open. A male figure dashed forward, a pistol held tightly in his grasp as he barreled inside with the energy of a desperate animal. "Get the fuck do--"


Pack!


Any other words were promptly knocked from his lips as Megan clocked him in the jaw. He stumbled from the hit, back nearing Aja.


Aja leaned back as the door swung in, letting it swipe past her as Megan took the first strike. Flicking up her free wrist, she sent a silent command to the pair of dragons at her feet. The first leaped into the air, arching before diving down to slam into the intruder's shoulders. It sunk its teeth into his shoulder. The second dove for the legs, swinging its body into the back of the would-be robber's knees. It clambered up his pants, trying to entangle him.


Grasping the sword in both hands now, hoping she wouldn't need it, Aja instead swung her foot towards him in a swift and forceful kick.


A disgruntled yelp escaped the intruder, his sunken eyes widening with horror as Aja's dragon drove inky fangs into his shoulder. He tried to reach up and yank the creature off, only to seize up as his balance gave way to the constriction around his legs. He started tipped backwards and could only release a pained wheeze as the woman's shin slammed into the arch of his back.


The man fell over but recovered quickly with a growl. "Fucking!" he retracted his pistol and swung the barrel around to aim at Megan. Before the tattoo artist could react, he pulled the trigger and a bullet sliced through the side of her thigh. Megan growled and keeled over, cradling the wound. That son of a bitch shot her!


"Oh, you're fucking dead," she snarled.


Aja's eyes went wide as she saw the gun move and heard it fire. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. That was going to be a problem. A flick of her gaze sent the dragon that had previously had a taste tester of the man's shoulder crawling up his arm. It clambered over the intruder's arm, pouncing for the gun.


The second dragon started to curl up, constricting his legs further to keep him from getting up.


"Hey, shithead," Aja greeted with a snarl, stepping just a touch closer with the sword still clutched in her grasp. More ink bubbled from her wrist. The black-out tattoo was more malleable, and if her dragon got the gun, she might need a fast way to grab it.


The man tried to unleash a second shot, but the dragon proved to be faster and before he could blink, his hold of the gun was relinquished. He found himself incapable of moving, jerking violently against the inky construct's hold. "The actual fuck is this?!" he screamed, the first currents of fear rolling through his system.


"Your fucking funeral, that's what," Megan spat. She tried to stand, to fight and subdue this asshole, but a furious round of agony rippled up her leg. With a grunt, she leaned into the wall, sliding down and falling to her haunches. Jesus Christ--one bullet and she was already this damn useless… Pathetic. She had really lost her touch.


Switching her grasp of the sword, grateful to not need to use it, Aja flung her arm towards her first dragon. It had been successful, curling itself around the gun almost possessively as soon as it had yanked it from the man's grasp. The malleable ink from around her forearm shot forward, curling around the first tattoo dragon in question, before snapping back like a rubber band. The dragon let out a squeal as it was pulled back to Aja. It gladly deposited the gun in her hand before clambering up her arm and sitting triumphantly on her shoulders, a borderline cheeky smile across its face.


"This was a mistake on your part," Aja commented, gun now firmly in her hand. Glancing to Megan, she let go of her power's hold on the sword. It seeped back into her skin at her hip, effectively sheathing the weapon. She slipped closer to Megan, crouching down beside her even as she kept an eye trained the main on the ground. The dragon had no intention of letting him up so easily.


"Easy," she advised softly, unwrapping a black tattoo band from her thigh before transferring it to Megan's own. It was a make-shift bandage at best, but it would do.


"It's fine," Megan grumbled stubbornly, though she didn't fight Aja's assistance. A sharp breath escaped her as the bandage adhered to her skin, eyes trained more so on the blood staining her jeans and fingers. She cut a harsh glare at the fallen burglar. "Just fucking wait until I get over there!" She tried to lunge forward, a vicious jolt, but regretted the motion quickly as more pain throttled her leg. The woman winced, drawing back with a huff.


The man in question countered with a sneer of his own, still wiggling fruitlessly within the dragon's grasp.


Aja reached for Megan as she lunged forward, eyes wide. "That is the opposite of 'take it easy'!" she scolded, hissing the words through her teeth. A breath escaped her, partly out of relief, as Megan stopped. She stepped closer to the burglar, eyes narrowing dangerously as she crouched down just out of his reach.


"I know why she's got smoke coming out of her ears, but what's your excuse?" she asked, voice low and even in a way that, despite her words, suggested this wasn't a casual conversation. The dragon perched on her shoulders wiggled about, crouching like a cat ready to pounce with its tail lashing back and forth behind it. "Shouldn't this be an occupational hazard for you?"


"Already said I'm fine," Megan said, her expression shifting into what could've been a pout, but it was enshrouded by the fury boiling her inside out. She watched skeptically as Aja proceeded to… Seriously? Now? With a fucking criminal who just shot her?? A groan of exasperation knocked at the back of Megan's throat, her head meeting the wall with a soft thud. "Fucking end me now…"


Eyes straying to the dragon perched on Aja's shoulder, the man's lips pressed into a thin line, glaring holes through the woman. After a moment of pure contempt swallowing him whole, he managed to spit out harshly, "Go fuck yourself!"


Aja looked back, raising an eyebrow skeptically at Megan. She didn't have to say a word. Her face said it all, and her face was saying 'yeah, right.' Turning her attention back to the man in question. She smiled, even as the man spat at her, though the look in her eyes darkened.


"Okay, shitwad. I was going to play nice, but since you don't want to play at all," she started, voice as cheerful as a Barbie movie despite gritted teeth and a look in her eyes that spoke vaguely of something cruel. "You wanna break in here, try to attack us both, shoot her, and then tell me to go fuck myself? Oh, darling, you miscalculated. Especially considering I'm holding the gun." She tapped the weapon lightly against her palm, as a reminder. "I'm a pretty merciful lady, but since you want to spit on that…" She shrugged.


The dragon on her shoulder pounced with all the fury that was no doubt held inside Megan too, slamming its body into the man like a very strong, very reptilian oversized weasel.


The more and more Aja spoke, the paler the man grew, parted lips trembling. He wanted to say something. To shoot out another insult, to affirm his resistance, but a massive chunk of his composure crumbled as soon as the dragon smashed into his chest. He wheezed and coughed, flopped back into the tiles and staring down at the creature with wide eyes. Choking back a whimper, he angled his head away, eyes screwed shut.


Megan did everything in her power to ignore the look Aja delivered. To some extent, she was successful, but she couldn't help but stare a bit as cold fury seeped into the woman's voice. She… couldn't recall ever hearing such an emotion escape Lemon. She was always so damn aloof and annoyingly calm. It wasn't to say that watching some prick wet his pants from her treatment wasn't a welcomed sight, but still… Megan probably enjoyed this a little too much.


Way too much.


"Now," Aja began again with a breath, "I was going to have a friendly chat with you, but you decided to spit on that, so I'll cut to the chase. I'm still pretty merciful, whether some believe that's a fault or not, so despite your ever so kind words, I'll remain that way. That said… your gun? It's mine. You attack me on your way out? Something of yours will be broken. Any other questions? Too bad. You shouldn't have broken in here and started shooting people." The dragon that had pounced on the man perched on his chest, claws digging through his shirt and into his skin. It stayed there, still as cheeky as ever.


Aja started to stand, gun still in hand. "Oh, and one more thing. You ever come here again? You even come near here? You ever touch her, or me, or anyone tied to us?" Her sunny smile returned to her lips, therapist voice present even as it was laced with something darker. "I will hunt you down. I will find you. I will make your life a living hell, worse than it already is, I'm sure. I will make you wish for mercy. And I will do this all very well because people like me..." she continued, moving her arm as if she were flicking a yo-yo down. Ink dripped down from her arm, slow and eerie in its movement, before she snapped her arm back up again. The ink returned to its place under her skin, seeping in with little problem. "People like me slip through the cracks. Got it? You don't have to talk, just give me a nod or a shake of the head."


Okay.


Yes.


Definitely.


Megan was really enjoying this. She wasn't even sure how it was possible, but by the blessings of some higher being, she managed to bite back a smug grin as the man downright trembled in terror. Was this show of ruthlessness and intimidation ever so slightly attractive? Yeah, probably. But Megan would take that to her grave before admitting that. Slowly, she sat up some more and peeked around at the thief, pumping as much coldness into her gaze as possible. "If her conditions don't work--I could always end your ass right here and now."


The man gulped.


Sweat rolling down his face and pits by the buckets, he nodded rapidly, the ball of fear in his lungs growing three times its original size.


Aja's smile was just short of beaming. "Good. Now, how about we help you up?" she said. She rolled her shoulders. The dragons started to unwind themselves as Aja herself took a few steps back. The inky creations helped bring the man to his feet, pulling and shoving where needed to make him stand.


"Now walk out that door, slow and steady. Hands where I can see them," she advised as the dragons made their way back towards her. They stopped at her feet, still poised to strike, as she kept the gun in her hands.


His muscles coiled instinctively as the creatures nudged and pulled at him, before standing on shaky feet, eyes never leaving them. Ink dragons. He would have many sleepless nights ahead, he just knew it. Fucking mutants. He had half a mind to call the authorities; someone, anyone, but he was a crook too. What good would it do for him? Nothing. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but looking at the gun in Aja's hands, the promise of death in Megan's eyes, and the threatening stances of these tiny dragons… The thief wasn't stupid.


He wanted to live to see another day.


Slowly, he held his hands out for Aja to see and slowly walked backwards towards the exit. "Okay… O-okay… Just… Keep those little fuckers a-away from me," he stuttered, nearly tripping over himself as he stepped a foot outside.


"So long as you comply," Aja answered, more than willing to keep them away if he left and never posed a threat to them again. She followed, her steps far slower as he backed himself out the door. She gave him the chance to put distance between her and himself. She'd keep an eye on him though, just to make sure he didn't double back or get any bright ideas.


The dragons on the other hand, while staying away from him, weren't quite as merciful. One wiggled gleefully, almost taunting the thief with the threat of pouncing on him again. The other stalked forward as Aja walked, watching the man with small glittering eyes.


"Y-yeah! Yeah. Whatever you say," the man rushed out, nearly jumping out of his skin as the dragons neared along with Aja. As soon as he completely out in the open, he turned on his heels and sprinted off with a strained yelp, disappearing quickly.


"Well, shit," Megan called out, "Was kinda hoping to get a few more hits in on that asswipe." She tried standing up again, using the wall for support. Progress was difficult and shaky, but she managed to place her weight on one leg, wincing as throbs raced down the other. Jesus. It'd been so long. She'd almost forgotten was a bullet wound felt like; safe to say, she didn't appreciate the reminder at all.


Aja watched from just inside the door as he ran off into the distance. She had half a mind to slap the eye design from her back tattoo onto the door, just to be safe, but decided against it for now. She shut the door as he left, a shaky breath leaving her mouth. "Shit," she swore. It had been some time since things like that had happened, since she'd allowed herself to go that far into the rabbit hole. She dragged a hand over her face before clicking on the safety to the gun again. She set it down, turning to Megan.


"Maybe another day," she told Megan with a huff of a laugh as she crossed the room to help her stand. She gently looped an arm around the other woman, helping to bear her weight. "If you're going to insist on walking on it, I might as well give you a good leg to stand on," she joked lightly. She noticed from the corner of her eye that her dragons bounced along behind her.


"For fuck's sake," Megan grumbled, eyes nearly rolling into the back of her skull. She just told Lemon that she was perfectly fine--was the woman deaf? Selectively deaf. That sounded like something Aja would adhere to. Either way, Megan submitted--begrudgingly--and accepted Aja's help, limping back over to her sofa. "Just… Fuck," another jolt of pain, "J-just sit me down. I've got a kit in that dresser over there. Second to last drawer." She nodded distractedly towards the bookshelf from earlier, where a cabinet was perched to the left of it.


Aja nodded, gently helping Megan back to the sofa for her to sit down. After making sure the smaller woman was settled, she slipped away towards the dresser. She pulled open the drawer as directed, finding the kit just where Megan said she would. She made her way back to Megan, sitting down beside her so that they could start to treat the bullet wound.


The two dragons, in the meantime, had come crawling up to Megan. One seemed visibly concerned, head tilting up at her from its perch on the arm of the sofa. The second crawled up the back of the cushion before plopping itself down on her shoulder, tail swishing all the while.


Megan quirked eyebrow at the dragons, her gaze lingering for a few moments on the one getting comfy on her shoulder. "Snuggly little shits, aren't they…" she muttered. A tiny ball of discomfort weighed in her gut, only because she wasn't sure how to receive the attention--both from the creatures and Aja. In the end, she settled for clenching her jaw and focusing on Lemon, expression carefully stoic even as she dressed the wound. "Well… If I wasn't fucking sober before, I sure as hell am now."


"They are," Aja agreed, looking up from where she'd started to gently treat Megan's wound. The one perched on her shoulder looked back at Aja, looking entirely too pleased with itself. The dragon that had been on the armrest decided to join its twin, leaping onto Megan's lap like a demanding cat. Aja snorted, between both the ink dragons in question and her friend's comment. "Yeah, I imagine that's a real shock to the system."


Megan's hands flew up as the dragon clambered onto her lap, pure exasperation coloring her from head to toe. "Guys, come the fuck on," she grumbled. And yet, despite her protests, her posture relaxed and a single finger stroked the little inkling's spine. Begrudgingly. "Shock doesn't even come close." Megan fell silent for a bit, eyes trained carefully on anything other than Aja and her loyal creatures. "Uh…" She scratched the back of her head. Paused. Jaw clenched. Then expelled a tight sigh. "...Thanks. For what you did. And said. And all that other shit."


Aja laughed as Megan's hands were flung into the air. She gave the dragons both a look, though they hardly seemed to care. They definitely didn't care if they were getting affection. The one in Megan's lap curled up, shivering happily as it felt a finger across its back. Aja looked up again from where she worked on her thigh, having transferred the makeshift tattoo bandage back to her own leg. "You're welcome, and it's no problem," she assured with a soft smile. "What are friends for?"


That question alone was enough to force Megan's gaze back onto Aja. "...Friends?" A skeptical but lop-sided grin pulled at her features. "Look at you, Lemon. Just throwing that shit out there now?"


"Hey, I very thoroughly threatened a man for you. I think I've earned the right to call you my friend," Aja protested with a grin. She pointed a finger at Megan, as if warning her not to argue.


She must've read her mind because Megan opened her mouth just to do that. However, she clammed it shut with a roll of her eyes and settled for shrugging. "Nobody told you to do that anyway," she muttered.


Aja snorted in response. "Right, because I need someone to tell me to chew that guy out. Breaks in here, shoots you, tells me to go fuck myself in the least affectionate way possible, and then gets mad at me? Alright, fucko, let's go," she said, flinging her hands up. "Shit, he shot you. At the very least, he was going to get a piece of my mind."


Megan just continued staring at Aja. Uncertain. Still suspicious, unable to fully comprehend the emotions emitting from her. Actually, she did understand how Lemon was feeling; it was figuring out how to absorb it that bothered her. "Yeah, Lemon. He did," she said, sarcasm dripping from her tone, "And that sure as hell sounded a lot more than just a piece." A tiny smirk graced her lips. "Who knew that your mellow ass could get vicious…"


Aja had the presence of mind to look a little embarrassed as Megan brought up the fact she'd very thoroughly threatened that burglar. "Maybe a little more than just a piece," she admitted sheepishly. She rubbed the back of her neck, looking away. "I… told you about how my little brother used to be a ballet dancer, right?" she said after a moment. She shrugged lightly before continuing. "Kids would try to pick fights with him, before he really knew how to defend himself. I finished those fights before they even started."


Megan fell silent for a while, her mind obviously running at a million miles per hour. "...You're a damn good sister. He's lucky to have your ass," she admitted, perhaps a tad more bitterly than she intended. The tattoo artist cleared her throat, mind scouring for a new topic. Anything other than this. "So… Fucking pizza guy sure is taking his sweet time, huh?"


"Thank you," Aja said sincerely, smiling softly as her eyes crinkled at the corners. "And you're damn right he is, the absolute dork. Texting me at weird hours of the night likes he forgets normal people sleep when it's dark outside." Then again, him having a job as a bartender probably did weird things to his schedule. "...Holy crap, he is. I guess it's better than him coming early and seeing that guy," she commented, jabbing a finger back at the door that the burglar had come through. "Or seeing these guys." She gently scooped one of the dragons off of Megan's shoulder, cradling it in her arms.


Megan snorted. "If anybody had the fucking audacity to pull that shit with me, I'd leave them dangling by their ankle outside my balcony." Of course, unless it was Ozno. She'd likely choke on air and jam a finger in her rush to answer his texts. But still, that wasn't happening lately, so she had no reason to fancy the idea.


Just as the woman was about to shoot another snarky remark, a knock resounded, softened by the distance it had traveled from the front. Megan tried to stand up. "Speak of the punkass devil."

 

[Mobley Eats]

Lady with the Lemons, Part III | Megan and Aja @WingWong | Location: Ink Shack

"Aww, even me?" Aja teased with a pout, hand placed over her chest. She half expected a response of 'especially you.' She whooped in joy as she heard the knock at the front of the building, fist pumping the air. Both dragons were displaced, from Aja's arms and Megan's lap respectively. They scrambled around on the sofa. It took about a second and a half for Aja to recall that Megan should absolutely not be standing more than necessary on her leg, even after having treated and dressed it. She reached out to steady Megan if she needed it.

"I got it, I got it," Megan grumbled, gently waving off Aja's hand and limping towards the door. She swung it open, revealing the same pizza guy she had mentioned earlier. He was tall, but incredibly lanky, and adorned a face covered in teenage acne. His wide eyes avoided Megan's at all costs as he handed over their order.

"Th-th-that'll be th-thirty seventy f-f-five," he stuttered.

"Uh huh." Megan yanked the food free of his sweaty grasp, propping it against her hip while digging into her pocket for money. However, she caught his gaze dropping down to her bandaged thigh and, with a sneer, she slapped the bills harshly into his chest, weeding a squeak out of him. "Eyes. Up. Here. Dipshit."

"S-sorry!" The boy staggered backwards, fingers scrambling clumsily to give her exact change.

"Get the fuck out of here," Megan growled. It seemed as if the delivery boy was about to protest, only for her to pin him down with the deadliest glare she could imagine. That was more than enough to send him bolting back to the car. "Fucking kids…" She turned back to face Lemon, eyes now dull with indifference.

Aja had followed after Megan, taking a few moments for the dragons to crawl up her previously uninked leg and wind themselves around her limb. They sunk into her skin, melding back into their tattoo form. With the two of them safely returned to her skin, she'd headed towards the front. She might be able to threaten the burglar, who had backed himself into a corner, but she didn't plan to scare the pizza delivery boy than Megan already would.

"So….how much did he pee himself?" she asked, partly amused as she neared the other woman.

"Probably floating in his own damn shoes…" Megan limped up to Aja, handing her the mozzarella sticks as a silent command (not a plea, fuck that) to help her with the load.

Aja snorted, shaking her head in fond exasperation. She took the mozzarella sticks in hand, a cheeky smile forming on her face. "I knew you liked me," she teased lightly, just managing to stop herself from bumping hips with Megan as she passed by to help set the food down. She should probably not knock her around, with her current thigh situation.

A grimace pulled at Megan's visage as she growled, "Fuck. Ing. Un. True." Regardless, she limped along behind the woman and back into the lounge area, setting the pizza on a coffee table in front of the sofa. She plopped down, instantly regretting everything as more pain shot up her leg. That… was damn stupid of her. Christ. Gritting her teeth and biting back a groan, she snagged a slice of pizza. "All these goddamn toppings… You're fucking insane, Lemon. Who the hell gets all this shit?"

"Uh-huh, so you say. Yet… I see mozzarella sticks and," Aja reached over to open the box, "lo and behold, I also see peppers." She grinned at Megan as she sat down beside her, pulling her own slice from the box. "People who live on the wild side, I guess," she answered, shrugging lightly before taking a bite. A moan reverberated from her throat immediately after. "Oh my God."

"Pop you right across the fucking head," Megan said, a light sneer pulling at her lips. Either way, she just rolled her eyes and took a massive bite out of her pizza--the lingering munchies from their smoke session just swimming about in her system. Like hell she would hide how hungry she was.

However, the timing of everything was not on her side.

As soon as the sound emitting from Aja hit her ears, Megan inhaled sharply, panic spiking briefly within her as she coughed, a hand over her mouth. Shit! Shit, shit, shit-- "F-for fuck's sake," she wheezed, her cheeks flooding with a tone of red she hadn't worn in years.

Aja snorted, hand covering her lips to keep all food in her mouth as she laughed. She didn't say anything more, the wide impish grin saying plenty enough. That, and the fact there was in fact mozzarella sticks and peppers with her pizza.

She'd gone in for another bite when Megan choked, making her look over with wide eyes. "You okay?" she asked, looking like she was ready to stand and get her a drink if she needed it.

Megan held up a single hand, her face angled away from Aja as she caught her breath. "I'm. Fucking. Fine." She wasn't fine, but hell if she'd let Lemon gain the satisfaction of tending to her like a bumbling dork.

Aja blinked at her for a few seconds as she struggled to breathe. "...Are you sure?" she asked again, eyes still wide. She hadn't quite sat down again, still poised to grab Megan a glass of water if nothing else.

Once she was certain that her face was no longer at boiling temperature, she glanced back at Aja and rolled her eyes. She reached out for the woman's arm, tugging her to sit back down with a huff. "It's fine." She could breathe somewhat like a normal human being now, though her voice was a tad scratchy from the abuse. "Don't let your tits twist into a knot, Lemon. Went down the wrong fucking pipe, that's it." There was a lingering pinkness to her face, which she tried to hide with a casual scratch at her cheek.

Aja didn't fight it as she was tugged back into her seat, though her lips were pursed and her brow was furrowed. "Yeah, and water can help with that," she protested, though she didn't move again. She placed a hand protectively over her chest. "I keep my tits perfectly unknotted, thank you."

Megan swept her hair back and heaved a sigh of pure exhaustion. She was just about reaching her quota for.. well.. life. In general. At least for today. "I'm fucking sure you do," she said. No longer finding pizza terribly appetizing, she put down her unfinished slice and reclined into the couch, her bones sagging into the cushion. "Didn't your ass come over here for a reason? More tats and shit?"

Aja frowed gently, silent as she tried to figure out what on earth that meant. "Yeah, I came to see you," she said after a while. She fell silent again, gaze flicking over Megan. "...If I've overstayed my welcome for today, Megan, you can tell me." Everyone had their limits, after all.

Megan sat up. "That's not what I… F-fuck you." She flopped back into the couch, her narrow slits for eyes focusing intensely on her abandoned slice of pizza.

Aja held her arms out in protest. "You're grumpy again. I figured you might be tired. I know better than to get between you when you're tired and your quiet time," she said simply. "It's not like I want to leave." She just knew social exhaustion was a thing. Sometimes people were draining. She was never sure just how draining she was on other people, so Aja tended to play it safe when she thought someone was getting genuinely exasperated with her.

Megan snorted. "I'm always grumpy, genius and wow that's so nice to hear." She couldn't help but wince a bit at the saltiness of her tone; it was sorely misplaced but she had no way of taking it back now. Jaw clenched tight and lips taut with stubborness, she bit the inside of her cheek before muttering quietly, "You just spent… twenty, fucking, minutes, trying to make my ass admit that I'm lonely." She braved a brief glance at Aja. "And you fucking think I want your dopey ass to leave? Where in the fuck is the logic behind that?"

"Okay then, grumpier than usual," Aja pouted, though mostly unperturbed by the salt in Megan's tone now that she'd gotten some form of affirmation that she hadn't overstayed her welcome. "I don't know. I know I'm a bit much, sometimes, Meg. I…" she nearly stopped herself. She took a breath, knowing it'd be better if she just said the words. She'd learned some time ago to take her own advice. "I know people get tired of me after a while. I just didn't want that to happen here."

Those words now hanging in the air, Aja wedged herself into Megan's side. She was very nearly laying on top of her. "But since you don't want me to go," she added, the grin slowly returning, "suffer."

Megan's brow furrowed; she almost felt insulted that the woman would assume the same of her. She had been raising Ozno ever since he was a problematic and hurt little boy, but she loved him with everything she had and more. She still did. It would take nothing short of Hell freezing over for her to budge under someone as "draining" as Aja. "Fuck off with that. I'm not them--"

And then her space was violated.

Two beats.

"Lemon." She grew rigid under Aja's weight. "If you don't move in five seconds, I will unleash Hell upon your inky ass," she hissed.

"Yeah?" Aja asked as Megan referred to her by her nickname. "Hmmm, tempting. But I'm feeling lucky, Megan. You admitted you're lonely, and that you don't want me to leave in one go. I'm feeling pretty good," she replied, still wearing that wide grin. She absolutely did not move. She didn't budge an inch.

The fury of a thousand devils kindled up Megan's spine. "Five…"

"Nope. Not moving," Aja answered with a grin. She leaned a little further into the other woman. She was definitely poking a bear right now, but it was also definitely worth it.

"Four." Megan growled as she caved even further under Aja, a snarl pulling at her lips and red flooding her cheeks. "Fucking… Three…"

"Hmmm, noooooope," Aja answered in a song-song voice. She leaned in a little further, very slowly wrapping her arms around Megan in a hug.

"Two!" Megan's voice had hitched with the bubbling onset of panic, subverting the rage she was desperately trying to hold onto. "L-last chance, you bitch!"

Aja laughed, eyes screwed shut. When they opened again, she looked Megan in the eye. "Nope. Suffer, bitch," she taunted back.

"I swear to fuck I'm gonna chuck your ass straight through that window," she whispered, venom and nerves swimming through her voice, thicker than molasses. However, a beat later, her resolve and balance buckled, and the small woman caved under the weight of Aja, flopping miserably within her trap.

…

…

"...You're on my blacklist," she grumbled.

"Keep swearing to fuck. Let's see how it goes," Aja chuckled. Her grin widened even further as Megan flopped over onto her side. Aja was laying on top of her, gently hugging the other woman as she effectively trapped her for a few moments of silence. "You know, I think I can live with that."

She just had to be a fucking giant, didn't she? Aja just had to play dirty and crush Megan like this. Fucking bitch… Grumbling an incoherent string of curses under her breath, Megan merely pivoted a bit in the hold, hiding her face against the cushions as the shame heightened. "...Swear to fuck," she muttered. In pure defeat. She would get the bitch back for this.

Aja giggled at the grumbling, catching words that stuck out to her here and there. "There there," she soothed gently, smiling as she patted Megan's shoulder. She stayed there still, affectionately laying on top of Megan with a grin on her face.

Scraping up the bravery needed to free her face from its couch prison, Megan turned again to face Aja, the sternness of her pout wavering somewhat with something else. Cautious curiosity. "...The fuck did you mean by that? About… people getting tired of you or what the fuck ever."

Aja paused, sobering up enough that she stopped giggling at least. She shrugged lightly. "People get tired of the 'happy perky tell me your problems' stuff, I guess. Which, I guess is fair. Not like people just dislike me in general, and it's not like it's their fault certain people are draining for them," she answered after a moment, though she seemed largely unbothered. She shrugged again. "People just get tired."

Megan merely hummed in reply, her body completely slack at this point as she stared at the woman. "Don't get damn annoying confused with happy and perky," she grumbled half-heartedly. However, she fell silent, contemplative once again. She couldn't make heads or tails about what sort of effect this damn hug had on her, but she found herself more introspective than usual. Normally, that would bother the shit out of her.

She downright hated introspection, for reasons she doubt anybody could understand.

"Look, Lemon. I know you're all about being a good friend or what the fuck ever… but hold off on the psycho-analyzing bullshit, alright? Just…" Words failed her and she couldn't scrape up the care or motivation to finish. She had said more than enough. Too much.

Aja chuckled softly as Megan grumbled. She fell silent as she continued, laying still. "...Okay," she answered softly. "Just… know that if you want to talk, I'm here to listen. And if you really, really don't want to, you can tell me to buzz off. I'll catch the hint eventually," she assured her. "But hey, good news, I don't actually do Freudian shit, because god, what a shithead," she chuckled.

"But what if I…" What if she didn't want to do either? Megan shook her head, squirming a bit in the hold. This conversation was a breeding ground for danger and she just about had enough of the bullshit "thrill" of it all. She needed quiet time, after all. "Sure. Whatever. Just quit squeezing the life out of me you fucking giant."

Aja raised an eyebrow as Megan started to ask something, only to stop herself. She snorted, smiling. "Uh-huh, sure thing," she said. She gave Megan one last squeeze of a hug before freeing her from her embrace. She sat up, scooting over just a touch to give Megan some semblance of a bubble back. It wasn't nearly the space she'd given before though. She reached forward for the mozzarella sticks, planning to enjoy the hell out of the wonderful cheese and dough sticks.

Megan openly sneered at the lack of distance, but knew deep in her gut that Aja wasn't budgin anymore than that. However, some sourness lifted from her shoulders as her eyes followed the woman's movement, realizing that she was reaching for the mozzarella sticks. In a fluid jerk of the arm, she snatched up the box and yanked it out of Aja's reach, shielding it on her opposite side away from her. "You don't even need this shit, fucking tower," she said, a smug smirk pulling at her lips.

Aja had nearly grabbed it when it had been yanked just out of her grasp. She pouted at Megan. She made grabby hands, leaning in closer once again in an attempt to get them back. "No, but I want them," she protested.

Despite Lemon's efforts, Megan just leaned them further and further out of her reach. The tattoo artist's grin and eyes were spilling over with a challenge. "You want them? Fucking fight for them, jolly giant."

Aja narrowed her eyes at Megan. For several seconds, she merely met the other woman's challenging gaze in total silence. Then she sprung forward with a vengeance, aggressively flopping atop Megan in an attempt to pin the other woman down and then use her longer arms to her advantage. She'd show her a tower, alright.

A breathy laugh escaped Megan as soon as she caught movement. She knew the woman would cave when food was involved. With the mozzarella sticks still hand and a bullet wound bothering her leg, she only had an arm and a leg to work with, along with everything else.

Easy.

She flew back in sync with Aja's pounce, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and a leg around her waist in a clench. Her core muscles and the momentum of the fall was more than enough to flip them over, giving Megan top position with the box still in her possession. Her thigh throbbed from the tossling about, but she could care less. This was getting damn fun. Eyes on fire, she lowered tauntingly to whisper, "Try again."

Aja swore as she ended up flipped over onto her back. The breath was stolen from her lungs as she realized the position she was in. There was a beat of silence and stillness, Aja staring up at Megan with wide eyes, before she lunged again. She tried to jostle the woman from her place on top, swinging her hips in an attempt to dislodge. She reached up again for the mozzarella sticks.

Megan barely bat an eyelash at Aja's jerking about. She merely pressed a hand to the woman's shoulder and tightened her clench around her waist, keeping her in place while raising the box further up out of reach. She was enjoying this a little too much. "Where'd that viciousness go, Lemon? Ran out already?" Something impish and long buried managed to surface in her eyes. "That's a damn shame."

Aja huffed as Megan barely even seemed bothered. She was stuck like glue. She ignored her heart frantically slamming in her chest, tilting her head curiously at Megan's words. "Oh, you wanted viciousness, Meg?" she asked, slowly raising up even against the hand at her shoulder. She leaned in close enough that if she were to move any closer, her nose would brush against Megan's. She hooked an arm around her, the other arm propping her up. The soft smile turned devious in an instant, as she swung her hips with far more ferocity than the first time to switch their positions.

Megan knew she was screwed the moment Aja grew dangerously close. Her breath caught in her lungs and words failed her, her guard completely and ruthlessly reduced to shambles as Lemon's smile twisted with mischief. The only thing to escape her was a squeak (a sound that she would vehemently deny later on) as her balance gave way and she slammed onto her back. Heart pounding restlessly against her ribs, she struggled to comprehend what just happened, staring up at the woman in astonishment. Her grip on the box had slackened, just resting numbly in her hands.

"...Fuck," she breathed.

Aja merely smiled down at Megan. She'd braced her knees on either side of the tattoo artist, one arm propping her up. She gingerly removed the mozzarella stick box from the other's hands. She threw Megan a wink before climbing off of her to settle back on the couch. She happily grabbed a glorious stick of dough and cheese from the box, dipping it in marinara before taking a bite. She hummed once it met her tongue, eyes closing briefly, before glancing back at Megan. "How's that for vicious?"

"...F-fuck," Megan repeated, her brain, body, and motivation to function currently shutting down. She remained where she was on the couch, lips trembling as she tried to find the right words; however, no matter how hard she tried, human speech failed her. No, worse than that. It became a lost art form. And thus, she slipped into a perpetual state of shakened nerves.

Aja had nearly taken another bite as she noticed that Megan hadn't moved. She'd laid there like a ragdoll, staring up at the ceiling as words failed her. She paused, leaning a little closer so that she entered Megan's view again. "Hey… you okay?"

"I'm fine," she rushed out in a single breath, still unmoving. She just… She just needed a moment.

"...You sure?" Aja asked, blinking at her. She still had a mozzarella stick in hand, having chosen not to abandon it in case there was another scuffle. "You're looking kind of… not fine," she commented, gently poking her.

Megan couldn't tell if it was panic or something else entirely that forced her body to move, but as soon as she registered the poke, she shot up and scooted as far away as possible, posture stiff and face warmer than she would've expected to be healthy. The tattoo artist cleared her throat before grabbing her pizza again, pouring all of her focus into it. "Already fucking said I'm fine," she grumbled.

"Okay," Aja conceded, hands raising in surrender. "You were just kinda staring at the ceiling. I have to make sure." She settled back into her seat, taking a second bit of her mozzarella stick. She raised an eyebrow at the sudden distance between her and Megan as the other woman picked up her pizza again.

"N-no I fucking wasn't," she growled, the red in her cheeks climbing higher and higher in color. She nibbled silently on her pizza, eyes straying away from Aja and mind running a million miles an hour while hyped up on sugar cane. "I, uh… I didn't fucking think you'd do it," she muttered, fingers drumming distractedly against her uninjured thigh. "That was…" A pause, then she hesitated. Changed her answer at last second. "Fucking reckless, Lemon. Could've knocked your ass out cold if I wanted."

Aja raised that eyebrow higher as Megan continued. "Uh-huh," she said slowly, not tearing her eyes away from her. "Right. If it was reckless, though, it certainly paid off," she continued, "and you don't want to knock my ass out cold, do you? That's the fun part." She just grinned at the woman on the other end of the couch, looking quite cheeky for someone who just had to wrestle the tattoo artist for mozzarella sticks.

She could've sworn she would burst into flames if the damn tower kept staring at her like that, so full of herself and far too confident for her own good. Frankly, it pissed Megan off. Well, it should've. She wanted to be. But all she could grasp was the heat crawling up the back of her neck and the annoyance fluttering through her stomach. She swallowed dryly, still refusing to look at Lemon. "I… Fuck you. I don't but--fuck you. S-still. Just fuck you," she muttered.

Aja threw her head back with a laugh. She took another bite of her mozzarella stick, cheeky smile still present. "Hmm, how about a raincheck on that?" she teased. She braced herself for the potential incoming of a pillow being chunked her way. Yeah, there was no way she was getting out unscathed for that one. She hardly minded, though.

Just as Aja anticipated, a pillow was indeed chucked her way. "Cocky lil shit," Megan growled. "Fuck you and your rainchecks. Shit's never coming your way anyhow." Not from her, at least; Lemon was too fucking confident and annoying and infuriating for the tattoo artist to even consider. And dangerous. As holy hell. Partly because she didn't even know why.

Aja cackled, shoulders shaking even as she got socked with a pillow. The pillow slipped from where it had smacked into the side of her head. Still she was grinning as she turned to look over at Megan again. Lightly throwing the pillow back Megan's way, she snorted, "So you say. You haven't seen all my charms yet, Meg." She wiggled her eyebrows, but she could hardly take herself seriously enough to keep it up. She leaned back into the couch, smiling all the while.

Meg's glare from Hell didn't budge as the pillow was reunited with her face before flopping to the cushion between them. She continued burning twin holes through the woman, biting down harshly on the inside of her cheek. "Charms, huh," she grumbled, giving Lemon a skeptical scan up and down. Then, she snorted. "Sure, keep fucking telling yourself that. Whatever the hell you got, I don't need to see it."

"What was that look for?" Aja asked teasingly, head tilted. She definitely hadn't missed Megan looking her over skeptically. "You think I don't have charms, Meg? I'm hurt," she continued, pouting as she placed a hand over her heart. A smile still tugged at the corners of her lips, ruining the illusion that she was in any way actually hurt. She was far more amused than anything, if the pout that faded into a grin the longer Megan glared at her was anything to go by.

"I don't think. I know," Megan said, eyes falling on her next slice of untouched pizza. She knew. She definitely knew that Aja didn't have charm or whatever over her, but she had something else, and that was damn scary. Frightening. Brow furrowing, she ignored the hesitance yanking violently at her gut and continued in the most level tone she could muster, "This has been… not terrible, Lemon." She swallowed shallowly. "But I think you should leave now."

Aja laughed, eyes screwing shut as the sound belted out of her. She grinned over Megan as she spoke again. She sobered up a little, smile fading. Something small in the back of her head threatened to be hurt, but she mentally slapped some duct tape over the mouth of the insecure little gremlin in the back of her brain. She'd offered earlier, that if Megan wanted her to go, she would. The offer still stood, and always would, that if Megan was uncomfortable, she would go. Megan was probably tired, not even necessarily of her. She had had someone break in earlier, and she did get shot, and there was no doubt in Aja's mind that there'd been plenty of traffic in and out of the building earlier that day. Megan's art was far too good for her to not have business.

"You sure?" she asked, offering one last chance, in case Megan was wavering or conflicted. But if she wanted her to go, she would. No questions asked. Or, well, minimal questions asked.

"No… but let's pretend that I am. Okay?" Megan muttered, gaze still avoiding Aja's.

Aja's brow furrowed as she looked Megan over. Several beats of silence passed. She wasn't going to get an answer. She wouldn't say she knew she wasn't going to get an answer, but she was the next closest thing to that.

"Okay," she said eventually. "...Am I at least allowed to give you a hug before I go? Or am I gonna get something bitten off?" she asked with a small, teasing smile.

Slowly, cautiously, Megan's eyes rolled in Aja's general direction, just catching a glimpse of the woman's grin from her peripherals. Words didn't come immediately, as they were far too occupied with proper formation and turmoil within her own mind. There were too many aspects and factors of herself waging war at the moment, and facing up to that fact alone infected her stomach with nausea.

The tattoo artist studied her hands resting in her lap. A curt, unsteady breath escaped her. "As long as you… promise to come back. Alright?" She refused to be left alone in this empty shop. She fucking refused.

Aja snorted, "You say that like I wasn't already planning to come back in two days at the single most inconvenient hour with more sweets for you to eat." She jabbed her thumb back at the cheesecake bars she'd brought over today as an example. "Promise," she assured Megan, before shuffling closer to her. She leaned over, pulling her into a brief hug.

"I'll be back before you know it," she assured Megan as she pulled away from her. "Take care of yourself, okay? Let me know if dickweed comes back." She bobbed her head towards the back door, cracking her knuckles for good measure.

Megan neither fought off nor reciprocated the hug from Aja, just moving limply with the motions as she pumped every ounce of concentration into maintaining a stoic demeanor. The most she could utter was a distracted, "Okay" before analyzing her fingers once more, watching them fiddle and fidget restlessly.

"...I'm also gonna take a mozzarella stick for the road," Aja admitted. She grabbed more than just a mozzarella stick though, grabbing instead a whole slice of pizza and at least three mozzarella sticks. She stuck one in her mouth for safekeeping. She threw Megan a peace sign and a small wave in farewell, somehow managing a sympathetic smile around a mouthful of cheesy bread. Then she slipped out of the lounge area, slipping on her shoes along the way. She looked back one more time, mozzarella stick still in her mouth, before slipping out the front door as well.

Megan was silent during Aja's entire retreat, the final image of a mozzarella stick hanging from her mouth and flashing that damn dorky peace mocking her brain. As soon as she was granted privacy, the tattoo artist heaved a long and withering sigh of exhaustion, running both hands down her face. She flopped back into the couch.

"Fuck…" She fucking hated this. "Fuck."

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

Behold, Alys Cometh - Part II
with @DarinValore and @Elle Joyner

Just then, gunfire erupted from the direction of Rose's cabin. The men Finn had blasted with a gust of wind had recovered and opened fire.


Eyes widening, Finn continued to keep a hold on Alys' air supply as he let out another lash of wind, strong enough to send the bullets flying astray, though one clipped him in the side. With a shocked gasp, Finn lost his hold on Alys, a hand flying to his side as blood blossomed through his shirt. "No!" He yelled, turning back around to try and swipe Alys with another hit of air again.


With a gasp, Alys pushed herself away from Finn, the bullet serving to be just the right type of distraction. As the gunfire continued, she knew this would not be the night where her vengeance would be carried out. Her plan had failed, and though she knew she'd lose Deckard again, she wasn't going to die yet...not without being able to take them all with her. Cursing under her breath, she scrambled away and into the forest.


As Alys straightened and Finn fell to the side, racing off, Rose squeezed open her eyes, bearing down on the pain still flickering through her to push herself towards him. Zoey remained where she'd fallen, half-smothering Travis to the porch, and Everest tore from where he'd been crouched, racing towards the nearest of the gunmen. A low growl emanated from his throat and he flung himself forward, teeth latched around the gunman's arm. From the house, a blonde streak burst forward, as a second beast joined the fray - taking out a second gunman from behind. A bark shattered the sudden chaos of bullets and growls and shrieks of pain and behind Blondie roared Baloo, taking down the last gunman with a full-bodied tackle to the ground.


It was too late. He sent a few more bursts of wind towards the direction Alys had gone, but she was too deep in the forest for him to land properly, and the bullet in his side was making it a little hard to aim. As the beastly dogs rained down on the last remaining men, Finn stumbled towards Rose, pulling her tightly into him despite the blood gushing freely. "You're alright. You're alright." He whispered, looking for the kids. "Coast's clear! Are you guys okay?" Finn called.


Travis coughed and shifted under Zoey, "I'm fine...can't breath..but fine."


Pushing up onto her hands, Zoey moved off of Travis, biting her lip, "Sorry. You… you weren't moving, and logic dictated action needed to be-- Oh no… Finn."


As he pulled her in, Rose shook her head, and despite her trembling, she raised her hands and pressed them to his side, "...S-stay still…"


Gritting his teeth, Finn grabbed her wrists with his own blood stained hands, pulling them back up. "Don't you dare. That's not happening. I'm not dying." Yeah, it hurt like hell, but he knew exactly what Rose had just experienced, and it hurt so much more. Looking to the kids, exhaling softly with a hand still clenched over the wound, he nodded. "I'm fine… you're fine… we're all fine, see?"


"You're not… fine..." She protested, but it was a weak battle, and she wasn't entirely sure he'd have been able to do it, anyhow, "N-need to get them… in-inside."


Ignoring Rose's protest, Finn stood fully, one hand clasped over the wound and the other firmly on Rose, supporting her. "Come on. Up, up." Finn said, gently but firmly, moving towards the cabin door and beckoning Travis and Zoey to follow, working hard not to let the flickers of pain change his tone or expression.


Deck waited at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Speckles of red dotted his clothing and a small cut above his eye was the source of the only blood that belonged to him. His eyes fell on Finn and were filled with a deeper gratitude than he'd ever really say out loud, "Thanks Finn...really," he said as Zoey and Travis followed in. Looking passed them, Baloo was still working on the man who'd clearly fell still, "Baloo, kato (down)!" Immediately, the dog left the corpse and returned to the house licking his chops.


Behind Deck, Penny gripped his arm, breathing out at the sight of Finn and Rose. Shaking her head, she reached for the kids and gingerly, an arm on their shoulders, led them from the carnage outside, into the house and to the living room…


Rose held onto Finn, her legs still weak as the agonizing twinge in her nerves died down. She looked up as Deck spoke, and her grip on Finn tightened, and tears sprang to her eyes. They'd be dead. If he hadn't come when he did… she and the kids would be dead. She had no doubt about that…


When they reached the living room as well, Rose collapsed onto one of the chairs, curling her twitching legs up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, as Penny moved swiftly to Finn's side, "Bullet pass through or is it in there?" She asked, as calmly as she could manage.


A weak smile grew on Finn's face at Deck's words, but he only nodded his head respectfully, not willing to jinx the moment if something stupid came out of his mouth. His gaze fell to Rose, reluctant to leave her side even as Penny pulled him away. Jaw tight, he looked at her, finally peeling a hand away from the red splotch on his shirt. "I think it's still in there." He whispered.


Swearing softly, she looked past him, to Deck, "...Hey Big Guy… Gonna need you for this one." Turning around, she nodded to Travis and Zoey, "We'll be right back. You stay here with Rose. It's over for now… And the pups are right in the hall." Taking Finn's arm, she nodded him towards the bedrooms, "...Hell of a job, Astroboy."


Deck nodded and followed the other three into the bedroom, "Lie down, Finn," he told him, "and be as still as possible. I'm gonna pull the bullet out through its own hole. Just like I did to Penny when we all first met, remember?"


His gaze lingered on Rose as long as possible, before Penny finally pulled him entirely away. "You too, Replay." He whispered through a cracked grin, collapsing on the bed with a grunt of pain as he looked up at Deck, trying to inhale. "Oh, wow. Deja vu." He joked, letting his reddened hands fall to his side, closing his eyes. "Get it over with."


Crouching by the bed, Penny took hold of Finn's hand, giving it a small squeeze as she nodded to Deck, before handing over a pillow with her free hand, "...Gonna wanna bite on this, Finn. Hurts like a bitch, I promise."


"Alright," Deck spoke as he placed his hand over the bullet wound. Didn't take him long to find the bullet, and after picture it in his mind, he began to guide it out. Slowly it retraced its path until it finally slipped free and hovered in the air, "Can add this to your collection you seem to have started," Deck smirked as he dropped it on the end-table by the bed.


Finn's gaze softened as Penny took his hand, and despite the fact that the bullet wound hurt like a bitch, he swore for a moment it didn't even matter, not with Penny sitting by him like that. A warmth flooded across his visage, but dissipated rather quickly as Deck got into position, and Finn bit down on the pillow with a harsh, but muffled cry of pain as the bullet flew free. "C-collection's o-over," Finn wheezed, sweat beading at his forehead, "No more b-bullets."


"Agreed…" Penny breathed, squeezing his hand again, before she shifted, and disappearing for a moment, returned with her arms full - a first aid kit and a towel. The towel she used to wipe his forehead, before she nodded to his side, "Gonna be a rough bandage for now… till Rose can give it a look. She's a hell of a lot better at this than I am."


Taking quick and shallow breaths, Finn reached out to grab Penny's wrist again, looking sharply into her eyes as she doted on him. "Don't let Rose heal me." He said firmly. "Don't let her."


"Don't know that that's my place to tell her, Finn." Penny stated simply, "...But she's pretty good with the old fashioned way, too. I'm sure she'll be alright." Looking to Deck, she nodded faintly, "...We should go check on the kids."


"Travis," Deck breathed, "Jesus. Let's go," he nodded and headed out the door.


The door had barely closed when Travis slammed into his father. Deckard scooped his son up in a hug before moving back out into the living room and placing the boy on the bullet-ridden couch, "You're alright, Son. You're alright," his eyes turned to Zoey, "You, too," he told her.


"Stay put…" Penny told Finn, with a small smile, before she rose to her feet to follow after Deck. Dropping onto the couch beside Zoey, she curled her arm around the girl, and pulled her close, as well, "You two… were exceptionally brave, you know?"


"...Little superheroes…" Rose murmured, pushing herself upright with a grimace, "They did wonderful, Deck. Really…" Breathing in, trying to still the discomfort in her limbs, still, she made her way from the living room to the bedroom, collapsing down beside the edge on the bed, fingers finding Finn's, "...Stubborn ass." She muttered with a wealth of affection.


At Penny's mention of the kids Finn tried to sit up, but he was back down a moment later, gritting his teeth in pain as he nodded at her command. A twinkle rose in his eye as Rose entered the room, smiling as their hands intertwined. "...Come here." He said softly, tugging her against him despite the pain radiating from the wound.


Rising off the floor, Rose curled up beside him, tears burning as she looped her arm gingerly over him, avoiding the roughly bandaged side, "...Please stop getting shot, Finn." She whispered, sniffling, "...Heart can't take it…"


Breathing her in, allowing her calming embrace to wash over him, Finn curled around her slowly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I'd take a million bullets for you, and for your family. Especially since all these exes keep showing up at your house." He laughed softly, shaking his head. "..Not in the plans anymore Rose, I promise."


Swallowing, stretching out her fingers, she let her hand hover over the bandage, shifting to look at him with a small frown, "...Please…? Can I just… I'm no good at taking bullets, Finn. But this is something I can do."


His gaze narrowed. "Rose." Finn muttered, not intending on even spending the energy to pull her hand away. "Ask me that again. I dare you. Or don't, because you already know the answer."


"I can't… I can't do anything else, Finn." She responded, a tear trailing down her cheek, "Y-you just fought Alys… and.. Bullets… and God… You could've died and you did it anyway. And I couldn't do anything. I don't care if it hurts me… Seeing you like this hurts worse."


"Hey.." He murmured softly, reaching out to let a hand brush across her cheek, but hesitating, since it was stained with his own blood. "You do so much, Rose. And you don't have to be stupid like me to be worth anything. You're worth so much more than that, and that's why you can't go healing me right now… because you matter so much more than your powers." Finn insisted, looking into her eyes. "What you can do, however, with a skill you worked hard to hone, is fix me up old school, so I don't go dying out there again." He smiled. "And I'll have a whole new cool scar story to tell."


Nearly pouting, Rose frowned, but knowing better than to try and argue, she sighed, shifting over Finn to grab the kit Penny had left on the nightstand, "You saved their lives, Finn." She murmured, as she opened the kit to find the needle and thread, "Trav and Zoey… I… I don't think I can exactly put into words what that means to me. If anything had happened to them… i-if you hadn't come when you did…" Focusing on threading the needle, her hands shook slightly, and she missed the hole several times, before letting it fall into her lap, swearing behind a soft sob.


Finn tried to sit up as a sob fell out of her, desperate to recall how he used to comfort her, only to fall right back down. "I-it's okay, I'm still livin', you'll patch me up later." He reassured, a hand falling over the bandages. "If I hadn't come, Penny or Deck would have. Nothing was ever going to happen, Rose, even if I do only cause trouble." He shook his head. "You're alright, Rose. You're strong as hell… I wish I could have done more, to make sure Alys never touched you… but you got the kids away, and you protected them just as much as I did."


"I-I don't understand how anyone could do that… t-to a child. Their own child." Breathing in, she shook her head, "She's a monster…" Picking up the thread again, steeling herself, she pushed it through the eyehole successfully this time, looking to Finn with a nod, "...You were unconscious last time I did this. Th-this probably won't feel good…"


"Don't need to tell me twice." Finn muttered, shaking his head. "We'll get her… we will." He mentally cursed himself for letting her slip away. Watching her thread the needle, almost wishing she had left it alone, he bit his lip. "Ah.. y-yeah… I'll be alright." He assured, fingering the ruined shirt. "I was supposed to give this back to you…"


"You can just give me another one." She answered, leaving no room for argument, before she gingerly unwound the makeshift bandage and pushed the shirt away from the wound. Taking another steadying breath, she took a cloth and wiped around the edge, and tendering her focus entirely to the stitches, she got to work. She moved as swiftly as she could, with no real desire to lengthen the process, and when she tied off the last stitch, she snipped the end of the string, fingertips gently checking over the work for any flaws, "...Should hold together…"


As Rose worked Finn fell silent, eyes falling shut as a sheen of sweat washed over him. It took a lot not to let any whimpers of pain fall out of him, but he refused to let Rose worry any further, so he kept his mouth shut. Smiling deliriously up at her, he took in a deep breath. "Noo… Rose patented stitches will definitely hold together… no questions about it."


With a breathless chuckle, Rose shook her head, moving her gaze from the stitches to meet his eyes, "...We hope so, anyway. Never stitched anything up besides pillows and hold footballs, for practice. And they have a tendency to stay in one place." Letting her hands fall beside him, she smiled faintly, "...That, or I get impatient and heal it, anyway."


Blinking up at her with unfocused eyes, still smiling, Finn chuckled. "You can heal footballs?" He mumbled. "Woah… that's pretty cool. You can heal anything." Finn hummed.


"Yeah… Except stubborn buttheads, who won't let me…" She teased, before the brief smile flickered away, "...Ready to try sitting up?"


"Oh, hate those guys," Finn said with a weary smirk, before nodding, reaching out to wrap an arm around her shoulder for support. "Sure… let's give it a shot. Get it?"


"...Not funny." She shot him a look, before bracing his arm, gently, "...Alright… On three. One. Two…"


On three, Finn pushed himself upright with a small gasp, clinging to her tightly. "C-cool. Mission complete. Can I lay back down now?" Ow ow ow ow ow ow…


Unable to resist the smile that returned to her lips, Rose shook her head, her free hand over his side, inspecting the stitches, briefly, "...No laying down. Better to get moving right away, or it'll stiffen up and hurt worse." Turning her eyes up to his, she smirked, "...Still don't want me to heal it…?"


Grumbling under his breath, Finn glared at her. "Evil. Evil, Rose, totally evil, and no, I do not want you to heal it." Breathing in, out, in, out, Finn stayed upright, fists clenched to try and divert his attention from the pain. "I have watched enough TV and read enough comic books to know that after you get shot you get to lay in bed for however long you want." He whined.


"Right… Because television and comic books are always grounded entirely in reality." She returned, with a chuckle, before reaching up to gingerly cup his cheek, "...If it's any consolation, Finn… you're taking it like a champ. Very brave. I'm extremely impressed…"


"They are all one hundred percent grounded entirely in reality." He retorted, posture relaxing somewhat as her hand cupped his cheek. "O-oh… yeah... c...cool. I'm.. p-pretty tough, you know."


"You're very tough." She agreed, with a small nod, "...Think you can summon some of that courage to try and stand, now? Or you need another minute?"


Intent on keeping up the cool guise, Finn nodded. "I-I can stand." He said softly, still bracing himself against her as he moved his legs towards the edge of the bed and pulled himself to his feet. "Not so shabby after all," Somewhat out of breath, one hand over his side, Finn wobbled against her.


Chuckling, Rose nodded and carefully eased herself to her feet without upsetting his grip, giving his arm a delicate pat, "You did good, Finn. Take a second or two… Make sure you're not gonna get lightheaded on me."


"Me? Lightheaded?" Finn croaked, gripping her tightly as spots danced across his vision. "Me.. l-lightheaded… n-noooo, never…"


"Mhmm…" Rose nodded, snaking a hand to his waist to steady him, "Except you did kinda lose a lot of blood, sweetie… So if you feel like you're gonna fall over, give me some warning, or you're gonna smush me, yeah?"


"I-I would never intentionally smush you." Finn said, offended. "Just gimme like.. f-five more seconds.. so the blood goes to my head this time.."


"So you'd unintentionally smush me?" She teased, keeping her hand where it was, just in case he wavered at all, "Take your time, I'm not in a hurry."


After a few moments, Finn took another breath. "I don't want to scare the kids," He said softly.


"They're already scared, sweetie." She answered honestly, "...But if you don't think they wanna see their new hero, you're crazy. Besides… this is Deck and Penny's family. Do you really think they can't handle a little Frankenstein stitching?"


Finn blinked, a smile growing on his face. "N-nah… y-you're probably right." New hero. He shivered excitedly at the title. "I'm good to go."


"You deserve the title…" She murmured, giving him a smile as she reached up to pat his cheek, "...My hero, too. But then, you've always been that…"


Cheeks flushed with red, Finn looked away. "O-oh." He mumbled, the smile still getting bigger. "Th..thanks, Rose." He mumbled.


"Come on…" Palm dropping from his side, she reached for his hand, "Let's go back out there, before they start to worry."


With a nod, Finn steeling his nerves as he took her hand, he stepped back out into the living room alongside her.


Deckard refused to let Travis go, and the boy didn't seem to protest as he nuzzled against his dad. He tried desperately to keep his thoughts away from Alys so as to not stir any questions up from Travis who was undoubtedly searching every mind he could for answers to what had just happened. It was no easy feat, but with Penny and Zoey closeby, he was able to focus more on his appreciation that they were all okay...even Finn.


When the door opened and Finn and Rose exited, Deckard looked up from the remains of the couch and nodded appreciatively, "We can't stay here," he admitted. His eyes taking in the ruins of their home, "And with Alys and RIEF after us, it might actually be time to get the band together again," turning to Penny, he nodded, "Can you send out the coordinates and we can head over to finish making the base operation?"


Sitting up straighter, Penny nodded faintly, "Just have to put in a call… and he'll send them out. You're sure, Deck? Once we pull this ripcord, it's chutes out… There's not gonna be a chance to go back to… all this." She looked around, frowning softly, "...We all need to make sure it's the decision we're ready for…" Idly, her eyes flickered back to Finn.


Collapsing on the couch with a grunt, a hand over the stitches, taking deep breaths to steady himself as he looked over the people on the couch. The peaceful family life he had just totally obliterated. "I'm sorry.." He whispered, looking over them all. "I'm sorry you have to do this. It's my fault." The band back together… Rogue… people he hadn't seen in so long. People he sorely missed. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect you… if that's what you think needs to be done…" He trailed off with a nod.


"She came after the kids, Pen," Deckard spoke up and then hung his head, "They aren't safe like this, and they won't be so long as RIEF's got a word in it. You know me. I want you all safe, so if I have to kill every last one of them to make that happen, then that's what I'll do."


A sigh escaped, and Penny nodded, first to Finn, then Deck, "...It was inevitable, Finn. She would've come eventually. Deck and I never expected this to be long term. Hell… it was longer than we ever anticipated, honestly. We've always had a plan…" But being a family… a real, legitimate family had superseded that for a while… rightfully.


"I'll send out the recording soon as we've all had a little rest. We'll sleep in shifts… Two awake at a time. Travis, Zoey… you'll stay here in the living room, alright?"


Taking another shaky breath, Finn nodded solemnly. He was back, and he couldn't run away again. That meant dealing with the consequences of his actions… and whatever else had to be done. "I'll stay out here with them. I can take first shift.." Finn murmured. "Couch has been my home as of late. Quite comfy." He put on a smile and nudged Travis playfully. "Like a big ol' sleepover."


"You get some rest, Penny. I'll take first shift with Finn," Deckard stated, "Not like I could sleep right now anyway."


Nodding Penny rose to her feet, but not before leaning down, first to press a kiss to Finn's crown, then to Deck's lips, "Be careful. Both of you. Come on, Rose…"


Rising, Rose fidgeted for a moment, eyes shifting to Finn. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, fingers brushing over the arrow on her wrist instead.


"Three hours." Penny added, "Then we switch." And looping an arm around Rose, she started out of the living room.


A deep scarlet took over Finn's cheeks as Penny pressed the kiss to his crown. He had never imagined to be welcomed back like this, but the simple gesture had Finn a little dazed with all the love he was finally aware of surrounding him. Once he'd regained his bearings, Finn gave a gentle nod to Rose, telling her to go get some rest, before watching the two women exit the room and looking over Deck and the kids. He avoided eye contact with Deckard, instead, staring straight ahead intent on keeping very good watch. It had been him that let Alys get away, and maybe she saw fit to strike again. Still, he couldn't get over the fact that after four years of torment… he was here, and he wasn't furiously hated, not half as much as he hated himself. Penny had welcomed him and Rose had cared for him and even Deck had looked at him with gratefulness in his eyes. Maybe, Finn thought, if he fell asleep, it wouldn't be there when he woke up. So the night shift seemed good to him.


It didn't take Travis long to fall asleep in the safety of his dad's arms. Even Zoey fell asleep quickly probably due to understanding the need for sleep over the drama of the day. Still, it took another forty-five minutes before Deckard was willing to lay his son down on the couch. Standing up, his eyes lingered on his son sleeping soundly, though his words were directed to Finn, "Thank you," he spoke, "If it weren't for you…" he cleared his throat as though the words would have been too difficult to mutter.


Finn's brows furrowed, looking over the two peaceful children and then Deckard. "If it weren't for me, none of this would have happened. I only brought the trouble here." Finn caught the man's gaze, shaking his head. "If you want me to go, say it now. I'll pretend like I never came. I don't deserve to just jump back into your life after all the hurt I've caused. Just say the word." He said, tone gentle but firm, head hung in shame.


"Finn, you saved Travis and Zoey, tonight. You stood your ground against Alys and didn't give her an inch," he shook his head, "You stay, and we'll work through the rest."


Finn blinked and looked up, nodding. "I'd.. I'd do it again. In a heartbeat. I swear to you I would and… I.. I won't let you down again." He knew the moment he'd seen them all again… even if it had been hard to admit. He would protect them now at all costs.


Nodding, Deckard looked to Finn, "Then that's enough said about it," he shifted and moved to the bodies spread across the floor. Crouching, he began to strip away the weapons and ammunition from them, "You picked up a few new tricks in the past four years."


The brevity of the conversation certainly surprised Finn, but Deck had never been a man of many words. As the man moved to the bodies that littered the floor, Finn's gaze hardened, still a little unnerved by the sight of all the death. After a moment's hesitation, he crouched beside Deckard and began to help clear the bodies. "Uh, yeah. I.. worked at it. A lot. Didn't have much else to do, or much else to protect myself." He said with a small shrug.


"Being alone, Finn, was always a choice," he sounded as though he spoke from experience, "a choice that forces you to evolve into a shadow of the person you were before. You grow numb to things like this," he gestured to the bodies and the fact that he was just shuffling through them as though they were bags carrying precious treasures, "You forget the value that others have, and the importance of the connection you had or the ones you should be making," Deckard paused and placed a hand on Finn's arm, "I never wanted that for you...for any of you. It's why we came here. Promise me, Finn, that you'll always remember who you are: the person that Rose loves, who Penny considers as a brother, who I respect. Don't let anything change that. Ever," Deck nodded and then pulled his hand away, resuming the task he had paused.


Finn froze. With wide eyes he listened to Deck, watched the man place a hand on his arm. His words hit him square in the gut and Finn knew exactly what he was talking about. And he'd nearly forgotten that Deck did too. Long after the man pulled his hand away Finn was stuck in place, head spinning.


"I… p…" Just say it. You can say it. Everyone wants you to say it. Promise you'll stay, promise you'll be better, everyone just wants you to be better. Oh, look at that. His hands were shaking. Why? Uh, maybe just because the man he looked up too and had also totally abandoned was kind of telling him everything he'd ever needed to hear despite all the shit that he'd done, ah damn, his head hurt. Maybe that was the blood loss talking.


"I promise." Finn whispered, and took another step towards the bodies, but paused, shaking his head. "I'm… s-still not used to… this." He gestured to the carnage. "Or anything involved with it, really. Even though I…" Assassinated someone. "Y-you know."


"You should never get used to it. Hell, I've killed a lot of people, and I'm not used to it. I just have a reason to do it. Back then it was to survive. Now it's to protect the people I love," he tossed the rifle and sidearm of one of the men to the side and began pulling the magazines from the pockets, "Killing people should never be something taken lightly, even when they're on the other side. That's a life you're ending. You're killing someone's father or mother, brother or sister, son or daughter."


Following Deck's lead, with trembling hands Finn began to empty the pockets of another body and remove the weapons. "I hate that people have to die. I really do." He murmured, gaze glassy. "For wars to end and to start, people have to die. I hate it. Even the worst of people don't deserve it. I'm one to talk, but I…" Finn bit his tongue. Killing Kaiden had become a point of obsession for him, and now that the deed was done, everything fell away to reveal to useless rage that had gripped him, lead him to do that. The thought was endlessly heavy on his heart, an unrelenting weight on his chest. "It sucks." Was all he managed to mutter. Not very poetic, but it was all he could muster.


"I'm just glad you haven't had to kill outside of self-defense. That's a whole-nother animal," Deck stood and began to pick up the guns, placing them on the table in categories - assault rifles on the left, handguns in the middle, and flashbangs on the right with the ammunition, "There's a lot of guns and ammo," he whistled.


Was killing Kaiden self defense? Finn wasn't sure. He didn't want to think about it anymore. Instead, he stared at the weapons on the table, the pile that only grew, a lump in his throat. "Alys didn't plan on holding anything back." He said with a grimace, a hand falling over the stitches. "I can't believe I let her get away."


"There's always next time," Deck breathed, picked up a rifle, and loaded a magazine, "Alys will get what's hers sooner or later."


Finn watched Deck with tired eyes, biting his lip as he nodded. He didn't want another 'next time.' "...Yeah. Sooner or later."

 

[WingWong]

The Boyz Are Back In Town Part 3
Interactions: Nick and Oliver @CloudyBlueDay

---

After a few more hours of playful bickering and eating delicious cookies, Oliver and Nick finally bid Grace farewell as she went off to meet Khuyen. At that point in time he'd been sufficiently whittled down to where it didn't worry him terribly to let her go, but it wasn't without a touch if concern that he made sure she knew for the hundredth time to call in case anything happened. Turning to Nick, he offered the man a tired smile, yawning. "Just you and me again. I don't know how Grace can stay out so late. I'm so weak… such a morning person it hurts." He signed, grinning.


"Just you and me," Nick signed in agreement with a nod. He plopped down on the couch beside Oliver, folding his legs in front of him on the cushion. He laughed as the other man yawned, shaking his head at him. "You poor early bird. Are you sure you don't need a nap?" he teased with a cheeky grin.


Oliver shot Nick a smirk and waved his hand at him dismissively, shaking his head. "No, no. Please. I'll last. And if I conk out early, well… that's just how it'll be." There was a moment when his gaze lagged on Nick, only to fall to his hands. "I know it's a bit cheesy to say. Or sign." He smiled softly. "But there… wasn't a day when I didn't hope that you were okay."


"So you say," Nick teased with a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "You sure you don't want to move to the pillow fortress bed, in case you really do conk out? he asked, gesturing to the pile of softness in question. At some point, Nick had pulled out his mother's padded mat that she used for physical therapy, deciding it had to be at least better than sleeping directly on the floor with only a little bit of pillow and blanket between them. He'd piled the pillows and gather blankets on it for when they were ready.


Nick's smile softened as Oliver continued. "I guess you did plenty enough hoping. We're both here now. I should've known that was what was keeping me going. Pure Ollie force of will," he chuckled before sobering up a little. "I'm glad, though. That you're okay, and that we're together again. I… I missed you. A lot."


"Pure Ollie force of will, Oliver echoed, a softness in his eyes growing as Nick spoke. "Me too." He lowered himself down onto the mat and blanket fort, slowly at first before deciding against it and flopping on his back unceremoniously. A small laugh fell out of him, hands folding over his waist. "Before Grace showed up on my doorstep, I barely set foot into the city a few times a year. Now everything's different. It's… it's weird, how familiar and unfamiliar it is all at once."


Nick followed his lead, settling himself on the mat just beside Oliver. He resituated a few pillows for optimum snuggly comfort before laying own. He snorted as Oliver flopped down, grinning as he heard that rasp of a laugh. God, he'd missed that too. "Yeah, I can imagine, how different it would feel coming back to it," he admitted, signing after a moment. "Everything's different, but it's also a little like… nothing's changed and you can go back in time, for just a little while."


"Exactly." Oliver signed with a sense of finality, before clasping his hands back on his stomach a moment, staring at the ceiling. Trying to wrap his head around how much his life had changed just over the course of a few days. "You look good. Different, but good. Not so scrawny. But still pretty scrawny."


Nick smiled softly to himself, keeping his head turned just slightly to watch Oliver's hands as he talked. His eyes widened at the other man's next words, a slightly distressed gasp escaping his mouth. "Excuse me, I'm not that scrawny. I'm made of muscle now. Feel," he demanded, sticking out an arm in front of Oliver. It was true, he'd been pretty scrawny on the streets when he'd first met Oliver. He'd filled out plenty since then, especially since joining the Underground, where he'd put on both healthy weight and muscle.


Another laugh fell out of Oliver as Nick thrust his arm out. He obliged without much protest, putting his hand out and jokingly poking Nick's bicep. "I don't know. Seems pretty flimsy. You padding up, perchance?" Oliver whistled.


Another distressed gasp came out of Nick. "Absolutely not. I would never," he protested. "I was going to compliment you back, but I see how it is. Nevermind. You'll never know what I noticed." He shrugged lightly, lips pursed in what was almost a pout.


Now it was Oliver's turn to gasp in distress. "Hey! Come on. You know I was joking. You're very well muscled, I promise." Oliver grinned, poking Nick again. "Now… what exactly did you notice?"


Nick blew a raspberry at Oliver in response. "Nope! Not going to tell! You're just saying that to get me to talk," he protested. Still, he wore a smile as he watched Oliver poke him again. He was more than aware that Oliver was just joking. Eventually, after a few beats of silence his end, he began to sign again. "You look healthy. Just…" He paused and then started again. "You just look healthy, like you've been eating well. It suits you,' he continued with a gentle smile. "Though I figure if that's your cooking, you've definitely been eating well. It'd be a shame otherwise."


Oliver beamed. He could've made a joke about how it was definitely suiting him to eat well, but he knew what Nick meant. How thin and bony he'd been all those years ago. It was certainly what had spun his desire to learn to cook, and to cook well. He chuckled softly. "I grew most everything myself, at my cottage. It was definitely a change.. a welcome one. Crazy what good happens when you stop eating from cans, hm?" He shot Nick a knowing smirk. "Sometimes I sort of miss the old apartment… you and I did manage to make it pretty homey."


"Really?" Nick asked, turning his head a bit further to face Oliver. "Don't tell Mom you garden unless you're ready to answer 70 questions and be her new plant buddy," he added, chuckling. "Hey, you can leave my canned food alone," he continued, pointing a finger. He fell silent for a little while, hands stilling. "We did, didn't we? That poor moldy couch, though," he signed, laughing. He sobered up after a moment. "...I eventually went back, when I thought was safe to come back and you were already gone. They… they renovated the place."


"I would actually love to be her new plant buddy. I mean, I'm already buddies with all the plants, so might as well make a human plant buddy." Oliver was thrilled just to know that Nick's mother was back in his life. It would be an honor to meet her. And I will rag on your canned food as much as I want." His brow furrowed at Nick's next words. "Oh. Well. I guess it was bound to happen eventually. So? Does it look good?"


Nick laughed. "Alright, fair enough. Just be prepared to deal with the fact she misses her strawberry plants, a lot," he added, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. Leave my chicken noodle soup and spaghettios alone. I was hungry, and they were food." He was grinning, despite his seemingly stern words. "...They turned it into a high rise. Nice place, I guess. Fancy. The thing that really caught my attention was that they kept your plants, though. They looked pretty well taken care of then, too, though it's been a while."


"Aw. Tell her not to worry, she and I will figure out how to get her strawberry plants back." He flashed Nick a smile, and even though there was a pang of nostalgia, a smile still stayed on his lips. "They… kept my plants?" His heart fluttered happily. "That's… wow. That's nice. That's really nice. Nick, you should see my cottage… It's more plant than wood." He chuckled raspily.


"I definitely will," Nick nodded, laughing softly at the prospect. He was sure his mother would love to hear that bit of news. He nodded again. "They did. I guess they figured it was too pretty to remove them," he suggested. "I will. At some point, I definitely will," he assured.


"That's better than I ever could have hoped for that place. I'm glad. I'm really glad." Oliver sighed happily. "Funny how… time goes on. Things change, and yet they stay the same." Something in his heart felt a little lighter. Like the aching weight of the past had been pulled off his back. "I want to hear more about you. What you did here, what you did with Rogue."


"It really is," Nick agreed with a nod. He rested his hands on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling for a few moment. He turned his face back to Oliver. "Honestly, there's a lot of boring parts, with really short periods of things actually happening. With Rogue… I was there about two months. I was there for the Miami branch downfall, if you heard anything about that," he said, shrugging lightly. "Met Keegan Hull, though… just not when I thought I did."


"I did hear about that. To be honest… that was why I stayed away from Rogue. I had a feeling something like that wouldn't end very pretty. But you said a lot of your friends are still kicking, right?" Oliver tried to shoot Nick a hopeful smile. Groups like Rogue and the Underground always gave Oliver anxiety, but they it seemed like those were the places Nick flourished. "Ah… Keegan Hull. The late brother of Kaiden. What do you mean, not when you thought you did?"


"They are," Nick confirmed with a slight nod. He then took a breath, trying how to concisely summarize what had happened four years ago during the downfall of Rogue. "...Kaiden Hull… impersonated Keegan for roughly six months. The man I met was Kaiden, when he was pretending to be Keegan," he commented, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Yep, super simple. Totally simple. Nothing complicated about that.

"And Kaiden… the things he did…" He took another breath before turning to look at Oliver with a sad smile. "It was a mess, Ollie. Still is a mess. I don't blame you for not wanting to get involved. Sometimes…" He didn't continue that train of thought, though his gaze still met Oliver's own. In that moment, he looked very tired and far older than just twenty-six years old. "I just want to help, but it's all a mess. I guess I'm too much of a bleeding heart." A short laugh escaped him. "I think I remember you saying once or twice I was too nice for my own good, anyway."


Confusion and empathy leaked into Oliver's visage as Nick spoke, a frown coming over him. The tiredness in his eyes, a war torn look, the look of a man who had been through so much in such a short span of time. Oliver knew that look all too well, and it broke his heart to see it take Nick over. With a tight but well meaning expression, he placed a firm hand on the man's shoulder, boring into his eyes. "Yes. I did. But it's the best part of you. Your unwavering kindness, desire to help… the cruelties of the world can see that good in you, Nick, and they want to beat you down. Don't let them. You're the bravest soul I know… isn't kindness worth its weight in gold?"


A short laugh escaped Nick, the tiredness in his eyes lingering for a few moments more after Oliver placed his hand on his shoulder. The look of strife and war fled from his face just as quickly as it came. "Yeah, I think I've heard that somewhere before," he admitted with a small smile. He took a breath, soaking in the silence as his hands were still. Eventually, he raised them to sign again. "Thank you."


"Don't mention it." Oliver signed with a nod. He couldn't help the fondness in his chest that grew for the man beside him, still as pure a soul as he had been five years ago. It felt like ages had gone by, and yet, things were still the same, in some nostalgic way. Perhaps there was the absence of a certain canine companion, but…


Things were okay. In the midst of a chase from a terrifying agent and god knows what else, things were okay. Calm. And for once, Oliver appreciated his company. For the first time in a long time. It didn't dawn on Oliver that through all this retrospection, he had left Nick in silence (at least silence of the hands) as he sat staring into space.


Nick fell into silence for a long time as well. His hands were still as he smiled softly up at the ceiling above them. It was after some time that Nick began to sign again. "Hey Ollie?" he started, looking over at him. "I know I said it before but…. I really, really missed you."


Oliver rolled over, glancing at Nick as he started to sign again, a smile brimming on his lips. "And I know I said it before, but.. Me too. " His gaze travelled back to the ceiling as he continued to sign. "I know so much time has passed… but with you here I feel like I've just.. Jumped back into five years ago. You remember… laying on my crusty couch. Musing about whatever. Feels the same. I missed it so much."


Nick had been nodding in agreement before a bark of a laugh escaped him. He dissolved into giggles, burying his face in his hands. It was a few seconds before he recomposed himself, and even then, he was hardly composed. He bit his lip, still chuckling softly, as he signed, "Oh, God, that crusty couch. Yeah, I remember it. We talked about a lot of things on that poor sad couch." He grinned over at Oliver. "I missed it too."


A grin escaped Oliver, his own wheezy laugh matching Nick's. He'd missed that laugh too much to even know, and hearing it again just made the world right. After the laughter had died down, a yawn fell out of Oliver, and it was only then he'd realized the weight of the day, running through churches and running from bad guys and running to the underground and running into Nick… so much running. He was tired.


"That couch lived through it all, I bet. Not only was it disgusting as hell, Spike made it his personal playground. And we weren't kind to it either." He snickered voicelessly.


"Oh, that couch was awful. There's no way it didn't survive. It exists purely on spite and malice, and it's tied together with mold," Nick signed, cackling all the while. His grin widened at hearing that airy laugh he'd been so fond of. "Do you remember when Spike pounced on it and that horrible greenish cloud of something poofed out of it?"


"Oh my god! I do!" Oliver said with another wheeze, beaming. "That was disgusting. We laughed for hours! Spike was so confused." He cackled until he snorted, slapping a hand over his mouth at the sound, blushing in embarrassment.


Nick wheezed, "It was so bad. Poor Spike. He didn't know what was going on." He grinned over at Oliver, laughing a little harder as a snort escaped him. His hands stilled as he took a moment to savor the easy feeling in his chest. It was an old familiar warmth, and perfectly content. It had been building since he'd brought Oliver into his apartment, but now it seemed strong enough to warm him to the very tips of his toes. He really had missed him, so so very much.


Admittedly he was beginning to feel his eyelids droop. The laughter finally subsided and Oliver caught his breath, a lopsided smile falling in Nick's direction. "I may or may not fall asleep. And I don't want to hear a single complaint about my being a grandma…" He said with a chuckle, before he shot Nick a slightly more serious look. "But before I do, I.. need you to promise me something."


"Not even one complaint?" Nick teased, but nodded. He was sure Oliver was tired by now, having had a long day even before entering the Underground. "And what's that?" he asked, tilting his head as he sobered up, eyes searching Oliver's face.


"Promise you won't leave me again," He signed solemnly, "Not anytime soon. Not if I have anything to do with it, anyway. Just.. don't… vanish again. Or I'll hunt you down. Got it?"


Nick's eyes widened before his face softened into a smile. "I promise. I'm not leaving any time soon. I didn't want to leave the first time around, and certainly don't now," he assured. He paused to scoot a little closer to Oliver, their shoulders now brushing. "No more vanishing acts. I'm not going anywhere. Promise. And if for some bizarre reason I do vanish? Please come hunt me down." He chuckled softly, smiling warmly. "I'm not going anywhere."


Oliver's look of worry melted away as Nick promised and scooted closer. Without much hesitation, Oliver leaned his head against Nick's shoulder, another yawn falling out of him. For a moment, he could feel time slip away, feel the image of a younger him falling asleep beside Nick on that goddawful couch fill his heart with warmth. "I will hunt you down so hard." Oliver signed sleepily. "I know you didn't want to leave. I know that. I knew it then too. Just… needed to hear you say it."


Nick leaned his head against the top of Ollie's own, exhaling softly as he felt that familiar weight on his shoulder. "You better," he replied, a low chuckle rising from his throat. He slid his arm against the mat underneath them both to hook it around Oliver. Unable to sign for the sake of holding him, he spoke for the first time since Grace left to hang out with Khuyen. "I'm not going anywhere," he assured again, voice soft as a whisper.


Feeling Nick's safe embrace, those comforting words, well, it put him to sleep just about instantly. A part of him felt childish and young, for sleeping curled in someone's arms. He had never had a parent to sing him a lullaby at night, but Nick had been one of the only people who had held him as he slept, and it had been so long since then. He'd watched over Grace, but this stirred something pure and untouched within him. Peaceful. It was peaceful, more so than he had felt in all his years in the forest.


And then came the snoring.


Nick watched as Oliver drifted of, smiling softly. He gently carded his fingers through Oliver's hair with the hand that had curled around him and clutched him close. He watched as his friend's expression eased into something far more relaxed and peaceful, that content warmth from before making its reappearance. He could hardly fight the smile as that happy feeling bloomed in his chest and didn't budge. He rested his head against the top of Oliver's once again, pulling the blanket over them both. Slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes started to close and he nearly drifted off.


Until he heard the snoring.


His eyes snapped open and he had to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep the wheezing laugh from belting out of him. How could he have possibly forgotten? The snoring. The snoring. It was louder than a lawnmower. It could rattle glass in window frames. Sometimes, it could even register as a small earthquake. He shoved his fist against his mouth, desperately trying to stifle the laughter before it disturbed Oliver. With a soft snicker, he managed to compose himself again as he stared up at the ceiling.


He probably wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon, having gotten out of the habit of being able to sleep with that sound in his ears. He looked forward to regaining that particular skill, though. Potential lack of sleep aside, he wouldn't trade this for anything. Not for anything in the world.

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

Seeking Shadows
with @WingWong

Nick glanced up at the building before him. Old and abandoned, graffiti covering a good deal of the brick wall. It was dim and dreary, the way buildings get when there's no one inside to keep life and light in the walls. He couldn't help but feel a slight twinge at the fact that it looked a lot like home, if only it had people in its walls. Then again, maybe home looked like this now. How things can change in a year…


He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to reminisce. He had a job for a client to do, and so far, it looked like someone in these walls was his best bet at getting it done.


About a week ago, the piece of tech had surfaced on the black market. It was a drone, an older model if he were guessing. They'd popped up periodically throughout the week, and Nick recognized that soon, there would be a surge of old drones in the system. He wanted to try to get ahead of the curve and figure out how to work them properly to sell to clients that would definitely have interest in repurposing them.


The problem? These drones were fairly delicate tech, for all of their brutal fire power. His usual method of "pick it apart to figure it out" was ill-suited for something like this. So he'd asked around, searching through the few budding connections he had for someone that could do more precise work. Then this guy's description popped up like a small miracle that was an answer to his prayers. After a mind-boggling set of directions that seemed to get vaguer and vaguer, Nick had finally found the place. Now, he just had to see if the guy was still around. After he pulled at the straps of his backpack, which held the drone inside, he slipped through the door to head inside the old complex.


The place was so empty Oliver could quickly hear the footsteps resounding on the old hardwood floors. No one was supposed to know about this place, not unless it was someone who needed his help, but panic still seized his heart as Oliver clung to the shadows of the dimly lit place, trying to still his beating heart.


It had been seven months since he'd been crudely thrust into the real world, and he was still scared of, well.. Everything. Making money was just the start of his problems, but at least he'd sort of figured out a way to do that. It was shady… it was dangerous. But wasn't everything dangerous? Either way, he had been briefed about someone coming by to ask for his help. Echo. Edgy.


"Name." Oliver spoke through his phone, the electronic voice preceding him as Oliver stayed in the dark corner of what was once, perhaps, a living room, with a broken chair and moldy sofa. The lack of a human voice certainly made things a little more ominous, which was good for Oliver, in his opinion.


Nick couldn't help but cringe at hearing how his steps creaked and sounded on the hardwood. He was seized by an urge to mute it, but didn't. He walked a little softer, but still let his steps be heard. He didn't need stealth for this. He had nothing to hide.


He passed by an old broken mirror, covered in dust. It gave him a quick glimpse at how he looked when he came to bargain. Hair pulled back, a single braid down the back, and a few smaller ones mixed throughout due to his anxious habit of twisting his own hair into braid. His hair was probably the neatest thing on his person, if the streak of dirt on one cheek had anything to say about it. He made a mental note to see if he couldn't get a shower at some point; unlikely, but here's to hoping. Still, his appearance probably wasn't the friendliest. Dark clothes and hair braided back like he was going to war was not the smartest decision he'd made today.


As he slipped further into the building, closer to where he thought he saw a figure in the shadows, he heard the voice. Electronic. Alright, that was pretty smart if the guy didn't want to be found or recognized. Definitely a little unsettling though.


"Echo," he answered. It had taken some time, to get used to the alias. He occasionally still bit his tongue before saying his nickname. That was the nature of the black market, though. Don't let people too close on the first meeting. That's what he was told anyway. He was also told, that if you approached someone for a deal, you let them take the lead and decide terms. So, after hearing the voice and answering it, he stopped where he was.


Well, hopefully it wasn't an impostor. Oliver wrung his hands with worry. Behind him, the growl of a large dog resounded. Not yet. He warned it, before shuffling into the light. Though Oliver had quite a large build, his features were boyish and laced with fear. Similar to Nick, he wasn't cleanly at all, face smeared with dirt and clothing in tatters. He hadn't quite built up enough of a cash fund to spend on anything but the bare necessities, and his clothes were rags at this point.


He took in the man before him. Well, he looked pretty young too. Young, but not very inviting. Dark clothes, dark hair, steely gaze.. Oliver swallowed. He knew not to let himself be caught off guard. Echo… sound powers? Did he have powers at all? Was the dog going to be enough if shit went awry? Probably not. Still. It made him feel better.


"You have something you need help with." His phone beeped, and Oliver cautiously sat on the couch, the dog trotting after and laying warily at his feet, eyes trained on Nick. It was a rottweiler, big and bulky, and as Oliver hoped it looked, threatening.


Nick's heart tried to crawl up his throat when he heard the growl of a dog. There was a string of words that flew through his head, most of them four letters and none of them nice. Could he whistle and change the pitch into a dog whistle fast enough? He didn't want to hurt the dog. He also didn't want to lose his throat. He made himself take a breath. So long as it wasn't heights, he could handle it. So long as it wasn't heights.


He took in the details of Oliver's appearance, mentally ticking off different points. He was tall, holy crap. Having only grown into his height of six feet in the past year, it wasn't as if it was too uncommon to meet people taller than him, though less common than someone shorter. It still unsettled him just enough. His mother had taught him, when he was far younger, how to take on opponents bigger than him. It had been a while, but muscle memory was a wonderful thing. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. Though this guy- Babel, he reminded himself - looked like he was about the same age. Taller, but still young. He also took note of his clothes. The same heart that had threatened to launch itself from his throat earlier now panged with sympathy. He'd been there…


"You're Babel?" he asked, stifling the urge to smack himself in the face right after. 'No, Nick, it's a rando that knows everything about why you're here.' He kept eyes on both the man before him and the dog as well as he could before nodding at the other's question. "I do," he agreed. Slowly, carefully, he slid off his backpack. He set it down before him on the ground, in the light where the other could see the contents. He crouched, pulling a blanket wrapped bundle from the bag before setting it in front of the bag so Oliver could see. He unwrapped it, revealing the old deactivated drone.


Nodding in response, Oliver kept his gaze forward, trying to keep any of his fear from flooding into his posture. It took everything he had to make sure that he didn't flinch at Nick's movements, and as the man slid off his backpack, Oliver's posture tensed. Could be a bomb. Knife. Gun. Nope. Blanket wrapped thing. Calm, Ollie, calm. His dog looked up at him, and Oliver could swear he saw a brow raised on that adorable little face, obviously sensing his worry, and Oliver shook his head in response. I am not freaking out, Spike. I am not.


Leaning over, he tugged the blanket towards him, letting Spike sniff it first. Spike had nothing of interest to note, so Oliver pulled the piece into his lap, running dirtied fingers over the drone almost lovingly. Examining every inch of it, before closing his eyes and holding it firmly. His mind roamed the tech, feeling every inch of its programming and committing it to memory. After a few minutes of this in silence, Oliver peeled his eyes open and glanced at Nick.


"What do you want to know? Do you want me to get this online again?" He asked.


Nick stood again, almost perfectly still as Oliver seemed to inspect it. Definitely a mind for tech, then, he noted. His gaze had strayed to the dog again, sincerely considering asking if he could pet it. The one rottweiler he'd known from before was every inch a love bug. Obviously training made things different, but maybe…


Nick snapped back to attention as Oliver spoke. "That and...possibly reprogramming it, for a different purpose. I wanted to know if it were possible to use one of these like an alarm for the newer drones. Just alerting whoever was around that there are drones incoming would be enough, but if programming it to be able to scout them out is possible, that would be welcome too," he answered. Hopefully, that was enough to work with. He knew, from his admittedly limited experience, that he wasn't asking for something small. Reprogramming was...an effort that required a lot of time, especially when he was learning as he went.


After a few moments of silence, his gaze flicked back to the dog. "...Can I pet your dog?" he asked sheepishly after a moment, voice a lot softer than before.


Oliver nodded along to Nick's words, absorbing them to the best of his ability. Reprogramming wasn't simple… lots of tech, especially RIEF tech, resisted it. But he could try.. Especially if it meant food in his stomach. And Spike's. Old RIEF tech, however, was a little easier to mess with, because usually, RIEF stopped caring once they brought out the newer models. Yeah, he could probably do it. He was just about to reply to Nick's inquiry when his second question resounded.


"Can you what?" His phone retorted in surprise, Oliver's own jaw falling slack at the question. It was in this instant that he lost his hold on Spike, and the whole guard dog mentality thing he'd been trying to do. Spike seized the opportunity, hopping up from his sphynx like position and barrelling towards Nick in hopes of a good scratching, all the while Oliver had jumped up, trying to reign his very stupid but very all of a sudden cute dog by mentally yelling and shouting at him.


"Pet your dog?" Nick repeated. He couldn't help but look at Oliver quizzically. How did he get his phone to do that? His intrigue and confusion was admittedly short lived, because suddenly there was a very big dog barrelling towards him for love and affection. His militaristic expression broke in an instant and was quickly replaced by a smile. He was soon kneeling on the floor, his backpack pushed aside, with his arms extended to greet Spike with scratches. "Hello, sweetheart!" he greeted Spike, tone bordering on baby talk.


The old drone abandoned on the couch cushion, Oliver stood in shock, watching Nick and Spike as if he had just been cheated on. That dark, brooding guy here to make a scary transaction suddenly was calling his supposed scary guard dog sweetheart, and Oliver didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do. On one hand: It was nice to see this guy suddenly become a lot less intimidating. On the other hand: His only line of defense had gone and abandoned him! Spike, goddamn you! But Spike did not care one bit.


He had no idea what to say at all. So he just stood and watched, blinking his dinner plate sized eyes at Nick, as Spike rolled over for belly rubs.


"Hello!" Nick greeted Spike again before watching him flop over for belly rubs. "You're a very good boy! A very good boy! Yes, you are!" he said, still using baby talk as he scratched Spike's belly with both hands. "You're such a good boy!" Nick reached up to scratch behind the dog's ears before returning his attention to his belly. His attention on Oliver and his transaction was momentarily forgotten. "Oh my goodness, such a good boy!"


He stared. Then he stared some more. Then he thought about this horrid betrayal his own dog had just imposed on him. Then he also thought about how sweet this Echo guy looked all of a sudden, and how the fear had melted away just a little bit. The teeniest smile flickered onto Oliver's lips as he scratched the back of his head.


"Echo?" Oliver spoke through his phone, and once he'd caught the man's attention, gave a meek wave, a reminder of his presence.


Nick snapped his head back up to look at Oliver, blinking owlishly once he remembered he'd kind of abandoned the drone business to rub a dog. Whoops. He smiled sheepishly, giving Spike one last belly scratch, before standing up again.


"Right. Yes?" he asked.


Spike whined in the absence of attention, and with one angry glare from Oliver, he'd hopped back up into guard dog position, standing protectively in front of Oliver even if he was still panting from all the excitement. "I'm glad you like my dog." He said with a sheepish grin of his own. "But about the drone. I think I can do what you want, though it'll take some time." He sat back down, and Spike hopped up on the couch cushion beside him. "I have to ask for a down payment before I begin my work." It was a necessary precaution… he'd already been scammed out of so many deals, it just couldn't be risked anymore. Even if this guy did seem nice.


"He's a very good dog," Nick said softly, almost inaudibly. There was something a little more awkward in his posture now, since he had just been caught baby talking a dog while giving it belly scratches. He bit his lip to keep from smiling at Spike but sobered quickly at the drone being mentioned. He nodded; he expected that Oliver would need some time to deal with it. "Of course," Nick agreed. "What's your estimate, for your work?" Nick knew his own funds were about to take a hit. Anyone good at what they did didn't come cheap. But with a few of his own jobs coming up, he could definitely spare what was needed here.


Spike's ears perked up at the soft whisper, but Oliver's hand against his scruff prohibited another outburst. At Nick's question, Oliver paled a little. Well.. he… he didn't actually know how much he was supposed to ask for this type of thing. Last time he'd done a job, the guy hadn't given him a number, and then… well, yeah. That was stupid, because in the end of it he hadn't been paid a damn dime.


Absentmindedly scratching Spike between the ears, Oliver bit his lip and looked away. "Maybe just a few hundred? I just need to…" He didn't finish the sentence, because he realized he was about to say something very weak and not very threatening or ominous or… damn it, the guy had given his guard dog belly rubs.


"I just need to eat." Oliver deadpanned without even moving his lips. Spike whined.


Nick blinked. Once, twice. Had he heard that right? A few hundred? Or did he mean…? "You mean, a few hundred now and the rest later?" he offered. He felt like he was missing something here. If he were a different sort of man, he'd be ecstatic. But this? No. No, he paid for a service and a job well done. Fair was fair, in Nick's eyes. And a few hundred for reprogramming? For what would have given him fits and sleepless nights and hours and hours of tinkering away? That felt like too much of a joke.


Then Oliver said the last bit and it took everything Nick had not to give Oliver a pitying look. Oh no. Oh, this poor guy.


He hadn't meant to play the guilt card. Or maybe he should have meant too? It was kind of hard to think when his stomach was gnawing on its insides. He knew he could do this job. And this guy seemed honest, so he'd get a good amount of money for it. "Yes, that's what I meant." Oliver said quickly, straightening his back. The voice was electronic, so it betrayed none of the surprise that had filtered into Oliver's face. "I meant that."


Nick kept watching, watching this guy's face. The voice might not have showed surprise, but Oliver's face did. The guy did lowball him. Holy crap. He scrambled to think of a solution, to think of some way to work this out. If this man has just been asking for enough to get by… Nick was struck again by how young this guy looked. It hit him; he didn't know what he was doing. He didn't have the year under his belt that Nick did, or the shrewd mother that taught him how to bargain. He was just trying to get by.


"Right," Nick said slowly, the wheels in his head turning. A few was technically more than two. While it was usually more of a "three to five" ballpark in his head, there wasn't actually any reason that a few couldn't be more. "I'll give you nine up front, and I treat you to lunch. The rest comes later." That would work, wouldn't it? Besides, kindness was worth its weight in gold. Kindness had no weight, and as such, it was priceless. And if there happened to be a few extra bills folded in that nine hundred later, well, Nick would certainly know nothing about that.


Nine… hundred? Nine hundred dollars? Oh, shit. That was months worth of food. Maybe some actual new clothes. Oh god. He'd get Spike so many toys. And that -- that was only the start? There'd be more? Hold onl.. what else had this guy said? Lunch? His stomach inadvertently growled. Nah, he was just joking. Oliver forced himself to laugh, which wasn't really a laugh, more like an airy rasp. Oh, fuck, he shouldn't have done that. Kids in the orphanage always ragged on him for that -- Oliver clasped a hand over his mouth.


"Lunch. Funny joke." Oliver's phone replied, while his hand was still over his mouth. "That sounds fair." It was so much more than fair, in his head.


There were a lot of things that caught Nick's attention, but the airy rasp of a laugh was first and foremost. The clasped hand over his mouth was second. It was like he let something slip that he shouldn't have. It clicked into place; the electronic voice. It wasn't just to disguise himself. Babel couldn't use his own. He was mute, either for a little while or maybe permanently. The fact Babel was using tech the way he was in place of his voice...holy crap, was he talking to a technopath right now? Did a technopath just lowball him for his own abilities?


"Why is lunch funny?" he asked, head tilted. Especially with what he just heard. If it were anyone else, anyone that didn't hear and feel sound the way he did, they'd miss it. But Babel's stomach definitely growled. It was soft, barely there, but still just enough he could feel it roll over his skin.


After a moment, just from curiosity, he raised his hands. It was halting, like the physical form of a stutter, because dear god, he was rusty. He asked, using ASL, "Do you know Sign?" He didn't move his lips, didn't voice the question. He was curious…


Why was lunch funny? Because scary black market clients didn't take boney kids out to lunch. He was a runt in this game, and had already been kicked to the curb so many times… the kindness Echo exuded, well, he thought it was a cruel joke. It had to be.


But Oliver watched with a furrowed brow as Nick's hands rose up. It was like time froze for a second, watching that stutter in motion, refusing to believe it until that question came. A look of pure, unadulterated happiness grew on his face, and Oliver's own hands flew up so quickly to respond it startled poor Spike, who glanced between the both of them in confusion. "Yes! Yes! How do you know Sign?" A pause. "Are you serious about the lunch thing?"


There it was. That look. That look that came whenever someone spoke and the other could understand[/]. He saw it now and then, mostly with native Spanish speakers. Their English was maybe not perfect, or they encountered something new, and then someone else would pipe up and explain in a language they could understand. That was the look of someone that knew ASL for a decent amount of time, too, so Babel momentarily losing his voice was out of the question.


Nick smiled at seeing the enthusiasm, at seeing that look of recognition. He decided to speak along as he signed, for when he couldn't remember specific signs or didn't know them. "My mother was mostly deaf," he said, hands flashing and rolling along with the words. He tapped his left ear out of reflex from explaining, because that was his mom's bad ear. "She thought it was good for me to learn." He paused, brow furrowed and confusion written across his face. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"


A bright grin had found its way onto Oliver's face as he watched Nick signed. It had been a long time since… The grin flickered as his heart twinged, but Oliver shook the thought away. No, this was good. This was a good thing.. And it didn't have to be sad. He wouldn't want it to be. So Oliver watched and listened intently, nodding along in understanding. It was hard, speaking with the phone. It didn't allow a single ounce of the expression he wanted.. Sometimes, it was a good thing, especially when you were trying to be shady. Mostly, it just made him feel a little… identity-less.


"Well.. because…" Oliver signed, hesitating. "Isn't this supposed to be shady? Black market and everything. Why would you take me out to lunch? I'm suppose to be working for you." Oliver bit his lip again. "You're too nice."


Nick watched with pursed lips as he saw the flicker over Oliver's face. He didn't ask, didn't pry. If it was something the other wanted to get into, then he'd have Nick's ear. In the meantime, it wasn't his business.


He made a motion with his hands, as if waving it off. "Business lunches are a thing. Besides, it's not like anyone is going to know but us that it's related to the black market." Nick paused a moment, hands stilling as well. "I've been told that a lot. I also had a neighbor that told me kindness was worth its weight in gold. Kindness has no weight." He gave Oliver a warm smile. "It's priceless."


Oliver beamed, trying to stop himself from getting a little overly emotional. He let out another shaky wheeze of a laugh, still a little stunned by what he was hearing. As a show of gratitude from them both, Oliver let go of Spike's scruff, and with a little nod, off went Spike again, bounding towards Nick for another round. "Thank you." His phone chirped, just to make sure it could be heard over Spike's excited panting.


"No problem," Nick assured with a smile. It was people like them that needed to stick together. Somehow, they were going to make this mess of a world work for them. A grin burst over Nick's face as Spike came running for more pets. "Hello, pretty boy!" he cooed, reaching to scratch the dog's ears once it was close enough.


Standing up, Oliver took the drone into his hands, with intent to wrap it up in the blankets once more and put it back in Nick's pack. If they left it here, it'd probably be stolen, and he had every intention of doing his best work for this man. "Spike likes you." Oliver signed. "Do you mind if we… If we go eat now? I'm hungry." It was accompanied by a slightly embarrassed grin as he looked at Echo, nodding his head for Spike to lay off a little. With one last lick to Nick's cheek, Spike hopped down back to Oliver's side.


Nick flicked his gaze over to see Oliver stashing the drone in his bag again. Yeah, maybe not a good idea to leave that lying around. "I can see that," he laughed as he got licked in the face. 'At this rate, I might not even have to wash my face." Unadvisable, based on that dirt streak earlier and also dog slobber, but still. The point stood. "Sure, we can go now," he agreed, giving Spike's back a good rub. He knew a good place to go to, too. Run by other mutants, no scanners, and no judgement for looking like they'd gone through hell and back. He stood back up once Spike had given him one last lick.


Smirking at his comment, Oliver gave Spike an appreciative pat between the ears. Maybe it was a little stupid, following this stranger somewhere.. but Spike liked him, and Oliver liked him, too. He could only hope.. hope that it wasn't a twisted fate. As he stepped outside, moving towards the exit of the building, Oliver found himself swarmed with possibilities of everything that could go wrong. Maybe they were just trying to lead him outside to kidnap him. That was pretty dark, but desperately possible. Spike trotted gladly beside him, and Oliver looked down at his dog.


You get a good vibe from this guy? He asked. And Spike's reply was definite. So he turned back to Nick, nodding to the open street, and bringing his hands up to sign. "Where are we going?" It might have been worth mentioning that Spike had no form of leash or collar, but didn't seem one bit distracted by any of the outside world. That dog had no plans to go anywhere without his boy.


Nick grabbed his backpack on the way out, intending to hand it back over to Oliver once the lunch part of the deal had been fulfilled. He followed Oliver out the doorway, but from that point on, took the lead. "There's a place in the abandoned section of the subway. Run by a mutant," he lowered his voice for that particular word, though he still signed as he talked, "who wanted to be a chef before things didn't pan out. No scanners, so we're good." He glanced over at Spike, smiling all the while.


"Woah." Oliver signed, spelling it out letter by letter. A secret underground mutant subway restaurant. That was badass. He wondered how many secluded spots like that Nick knew, how many people in hiding… maybe those people could be thriving. Then.. a chef? Like, professional? Was he going to have some gourmet meal? Honestly, Oliver hoped not. He just wanted something warm and satisfying to quell the aching of his stomach. "That sounds awesome."


"It kind of is," Nick admitted. It wasn't big or extravagant by any means. It was picnic tables and folding card tables and an assortment of chairs that didn't match anything at all. It was more about feeding people than about anything fancy, but the food was good. Said chef also paid very well for every ingredient she needed, and Nick was more than happy to help out there. Though he had a feeling she'd be needling him about produce and cheese today, despite him saying he couldn't land a shipment just yet.


Oliver put his hands in his pockets, looking up at Nick, trying to absorb everything he could from this man's face and words. He had never had a business lunch. Nor someone who proposed it. Hell, he'd never had a guy who came to make a deal ask to pet his dog. Everything about Nick was different, and Oliver was eternally grateful for that. "Do you have sound powers? Echo?" Oliver signed, a curious smile on his face.


Nick continued walking, looking for that familiar sign that would lead them down to where he intended to take Oliver for food. He looked over at Oliver as he saw him start to sign again. He nodded. "I do," he confirmed, signing back to try and recall some of what he'd learned before he'd had to leave home. Some of it came back easier than other parts, but he thought he was doing pretty well. He was struck by a thought. "What about you? Are you a-" he halted, trying to figure out how to sign the word. He settled on finger spelling it. "Are you a technopath?" He felt a little like there was something about the codename 'Babel' that wasn't clicking yet.


Sound manipulation was a very intriguing power. There were a lot of things to be done like that - could he manipulate sound in what other people heard, or only for himself? Release deafening sound blasts? Nick could have silenced his steps when he walked into the abandoned complex, but chose not too. Another good sign.. he hadn't tried to take Oliver off guard, even when he could have. And at the question, he put a hand on his chin, trying to think about the best way to answer. It wasn't exactly true that he was a technopath… nor that he wasn't.


"Not exactly. I just… communicate. With everything." Oliver signed back, and glanced down at Spike. "Spike says you tasted like chicken soup."


Nick seemed confused for a moment, but as Oliver referred to Spike, it clicked. That's why the dog reacted the way it did. Why one moment it was growling and watching him like prey and the next was full of love and a need for belly scratches. Oliver was telling him to do that. He then looked down at Spike.


"Spike, you can't sell me out like this," he told the dog. "When we get down there, you're not allowed to say I ate anything from a can." He was only half serious, smiling even as he said it. It was true that Genevieve could not know he ate from a can, though, or he'd be dealing with a screech of 'And that's why you're skinny!' as a response.


Oliver grinned, bending down to scratch Spike between the ears again. "I'll say you've only eaten the finest of meals." Oliver straightened his posture with a fake air of haughtiness, smirking all the while. It was much easier to tell jokes like this. "The shiniest silverware, shiniest china, no one like Echo."


Nick cracked a grin at that, laughing softly. "That'll just make her suspicious. 'You can afford pretty plates but you can't afford to put some meat on your bones!'' he mimicked, in the way you did when you were poking fun at someone.


That same airy laugh fell out of Oliver, though he tried to cut it short. It mostly ended up sounding like a wheeze, if not for the smile brimming on his face. "Alright, fine. I'll say you're horribly average and nothing more." He rolled his eyes, and then pondered on another question. "How long have you been doing this? Black market stuff?"


Nick threw his head back in a laugh, his smile wider. "That'll do it," he chuckled in response. He seemed to consider this for a moment. His sense of time was...not great. Working odd hours for particular jobs and projects made his days a little different, and honestly, he wouldn't even know the date if he were asked. He usually knew the month and year, but beyond that, being on the streets had messed up his sense of time. "Over a year. Probably a few months more than a year, actually. What about you?"


Oh. It wasn't as long as he'd thought. A part of him had expected Nick to say something emo, like my mother raised me in the dark caverns of the black market. But that was just him blowing things a little out of proportion. "Barely a few months." Oliver said. "I've only done a few jobs."


Nick nodded at hearing this. That made sense. Definitely explained some of the wariness and the lowball price earlier. He considered saying something else before spotting the sign he had been watching for. Leading the way, he stepped towards the subway station entrance and started down the stairs.


Oliver hesitated a moment, watching Nick descend the stairs at the station's entrance. Again, his heart thrummed nervously, and he ran through his doubts once more. In his hesitation, Spike took the opportunity to trot downwards and reach Nick's side, leaving Oliver to sigh unhappily before rushing down to join them.


Nick smiled over at Spike as he caught up, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears, before glancing back at Oliver to make sure he was following. Given everything, and the fact the other had only been at this a few months, Nick couldn't blame him from being wary.


He slowed once he reached the bottom of the stairs, and up further, he could see them. There were other mutants milling around the mismatched tables and chairs, some of them old, some young, and plenty inbetween. The set-up was more like a potluck than a restaurant, with large platters of food set out for the crowd. It was fairly basic, but it was food and it was warm.


The smell of food hit Oliver like a punch in the nose, and his stomach twisted painfully. Oh, wow. He hadn't really smelled food, good food, warm food, in a long time. In a warm environment, too. Spike was already whining and pawing at his pants leg like crazy, but Oliver took a moment to just take it all in. There were so many mutants.. So many people like him. After staring at the scene before him for while, Oliver then gaped at Nick in shock.


"We can just go… take food? Just like that?" He signed in disbelief.


"You can," Nick said with a nod. "I'm going to go find the cook and cover for both of us. I'll catch up with you in just a moment," he assured, just in case Oliver was feeling anxious. He scanned over the small crowd, trying to find her, before finally spotting her.


Oliver nodded furiously, noting that bit about the fact that Nick was covering for the both of them, but before he could protest Nick had already headed off. This man was a literal godsend, and with an excited look to Spike, they both dove for the buffet. Oliver first noticed the tray of chicken, and grabbing a leg, offered it to Spike, who immediately got to work gnawing on it hungrily. Meanwhile, Oliver grabbed a plate and piled it high, his worry for being greedy ignored by the gnawing at his insides. He would have even tried to avoid eating any meat, but at this point, he was starving in an entirely new and painful way, so much so that it didn't matter to Oliver anymore. Once his plate had been filled to the brim, Oliver plopped himself down at a table and began eating much too fast, as Spike picked up his piece of chicken and returned to chowing down at Oliver's feet.


Nick slid through the crowd, to where he finally found Genevieve. She was in the middle of turning away from another guest, but her face lit up upon seeing Nick. "Ah! There's my skinny boy patron," she greeted, pulling him into a hug, which Nick easily returned.


"Speaking of, I brought you a new friend," he added jabbing a thumb back towards where Oliver was loading his plate. Nick smiled a little at seeing the other boy was fully taking advantage of the chance to eat, and he had a sneaking suspicion Genevieve would be pleased by the enthusiasm. He handed her a small wad of bills, which he knew would cover him and Oliver both, that he'd pulled from his backpack pocket.


"For that, you're momentarily forgiven for making me wait on a delivery," Genevieve teased before shooing him off. "Go, go eat. I want to see a day where you're not a stick." Nick gave her a wave before making his own way towards the table to make a plate as well.


Oliver ate faster than he thought humanly possible. He ate until the pain in his stomach turned into pain from guzzling food obnoxiously fast, so then Oliver slowed and tried to eat like a normal human being. Wow, okay. That wasn't happening again. Definitely not. And with what Nick was paying him for repurposing the drone, there was no way in hell he'd let himself go hungry again. It would be hard, trying to make that thing an alert system. It'd probably take days of prodding… RIEF tech didn't like to be reprogrammed. But it would be done, it had to be done, because he needed that money and he wanted to good for Nick.


Oliver eagerly waved his new friend over once Nick's plate had been stacked, tossing Spike another drumstick underneath the table.


Nick smiled at Oliver as he reached the table he was at, plate loaded up, though not with nearly as much as Oliver's small mountain. "Woah, buddy, slow down there. The food's not going anywhere," he assured as he sat down. He leaned over to see Spike chewing on the chicken before digging into his own plate himself.


Oliver slowed at Nick's comment, smiling sheepishly at him through a mouth full of food. So as to keep on eating while he spoke, Oliver talked through his phone. "Is that the woman who runs this place? You should tell her thank you for me. A thousand times over." There was enough quantity of food without meat for Oliver to be satisfied, so he handed Spike his last chicken wing. "How much is this out of my cut?" He didn't want Nick to do anymore for him than he already had.


Nick grinned at that. "She is, and I definitely will. I think she'd be even happier to hear it from you, though." He paused, tilting his head at Oliver's question. "It's part of the deal?" he said after a moment. "Nine hundred and I treat you to lunch. So you don't owe me anything beside your work." He took a bite of his own food, making a pleased face as he did so. This was so much better than canned chicken noodle soup.


Swallowing down a big bite, Oliver stared at Nick. He nodded thankfully, trying to wrap his head around why Echo was being so incredibly kind to him. Taking a few more large bites, Oliver leaned back in the chair. "I can't talk, though. You should just tell her." His phone announced, as Oliver begrudgingly went back for one more mouthful. He was full now, but even the reminder of that gnawing pain was enough to have him shoving more food in. "I'm going to get that drone done as quickly as I can. And however many more." Whatever Nick wanted. Oliver didn't care.


"You talk through your phone," Nick pointed out. "And while she doesn't really understand ASL, seeing you face to face does wonders. She's also heard it from me about 50 times a week, at least, so I think she's starting to be a little desensitized to me saying it," he added with a chuckle. He then shook his head. "There's no rush. Just do your best."


Oliver smiled weakly, cleaning his face and hands on a napkin before cleaning up the table after him. "Alright. We'll say thank you, and then go back to my place so I can get straight to work." Spike jumped out from his place under the table, still enjoying a chicken bone between his teeth. Oliver waited for Nick to stand and even timidly fumbled with his hands until Nick walked forward first.


Nick shoved the last few bites of food into his mouth before standing up as well and helping clean up after himself. "She doesn't bite, I promise," he assured before leading the way towards the woman in question.


She turned to see them from where she was focused on removing an empty platter, and a large smile spread over her face. "So you are going to introduce him. I was beginning to wonder," Genevieve teased.


Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Oliver stuck out his hand for Genevive to shake. "I'm…" He glanced between the two, trying to straighten his posture a little more. Duncan would berate him for this, but… "I'm Oliver. Thank you for the food. It was delicious."


Genevieve's smile widened further, if that were possible. "It's a pleasure, Oliver. And thank you," she said, taking his hand in hers.


Nick's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected to get a name out of Babel for a while, considering he had faced a guard dog when he originally came in. It was a very lovey guard dog, but one all the same.


A small flush of pink came to Oliver's cheeks once the handshake had broken. "I should get to work for Echo, but I'll be sure to come by again." As a token of appreciation, Spike dropped his bone in front of Genevieve's feet. Oliver's brow furrowed, and it almost looked as if he were yelling at Spike, just without moving his lips. Spike picked the bone back up with a whine. "Sorry. He's grateful." Oliver replied.


"I look forward to it," Genevieve replied. Surprise flashed over her face as Spike dropped the bone at her feet, but she merely shook her head at Oliver's apology. "I appreciate it," she said, reaching over the scratch the dog behind the ears.


Offering one last awkward smile to Genevieve, Oliver bowed his head and nodded Nick away. "Goodbye, Genevieve." He said, with one last feeble wave, before turning towards the exit. His belly was full, his spirits renewed, and now he was ready to work. Oliver poked Nick's backpack, a light smile on his face as he returned to signing. "I'll get straight to work, Echo. You don't have to come back with me, if you've got places to be."


Genevieve returned the wave before returning to her task as the two of them left. Nick looked over as Babel- Oliver- poked his backpack. "Don't worry. I'll at least walk back with you before I head out," he assured. He could definitely spare that bit of time. He honestly had expected the ordeal to take a little while, so he didn't actually have to be anywhere until later. He could make sure the other man get back to his hideout safe and sound.


Oliver nodded. He'd almost expected that Nick wouldn't be able to end his streak of kindness there… it didn't stop the smile that laid on his lips. "Reprogramming is the hard part… RIEF tech doesn't like to be messed with. It'll take a couple days, but I can do it. Do you have a deadline? How fast do you need it done?"


Nick couldn't help nodding in agreement. Reprogramming wasn't an easy or quick process. "A few days works fine," he assured. With progress made on actually finding someone who could do the work, he was willing to give whatever time Oliver needed. "So take whatever time you need."


"You… are something, Echo." Oliver signed, a small sigh falling out of him. "I haven't found anyone… decent… in so long." He wasn't decent, he was literally an angel, but Oliver wasn't quite sure he was ready to say that out loud. Or, sign it out loud.


"I think I've heard that a few times," Nick teased lightly, before pursing his lips. "I'm sorry to hear that." He seemed to pause a moment, considering something. He might as well. The other boy had already given him his. "And Nick. You can call me Nick."


Oliver's eyes widened with a beaming smile. "Nick." He signed, bumping his shoulder against the man's own. "Thank you. A million times over. Don't be sorry… all that indecency let me meet you, so…" Oliver grinned. "Nice to meet you, Nick." He put his hand out.


"That's certainly one way to look at it," Nick replied, returning the wide smile. He took Oliver's hand in his, shaking it. "It's nice to meet you, too, Oliver," he said. They approached Oliver's abandoned apartment, the familiar graffiti coming into view.


Oliver's posture shifted slightly at the sight of his disheveled living space. "Thanks for walking me back, Nick." He gestured to the backpack. Spike pawed at Nick's leg, offering a polite whine in goodbye.


"No problem, and thank you, for doing this," he said, handing off the backpack to Oliver. He pushed up one sleeve, reaching his hand into it as if feeling for a small pocket on the upper arm. He pulled his hand back out, clicking flicking through the bills to count, before handing them to Oliver. He hoped that by the time Oliver noticed the extra bills folded in the middle, he'd be gone. "Nine hundred, like we agreed. It's all there," he said, handing it to Oliver.


He then bent down to scratch Spike behind the ears. "It's alright. I'll see you soon, buddy. Keep an eye on him for me, yeah?" he asked the dog, nodding at Oliver.


Oliver stared at the bills that came out of Nick's sleeve, his head almost spinning at the thought of having so much money at his fingertips. With an unsteady hand Oliver took the wad of bills, shoving it quickly into his own pocket. "He says he will." He smiled up at Nick as Spike delivered one final lick to the man's cheek before hopping off and returning to Oliver's side.


He slung the backpack along his shoulder and took a few steps towards the abandoned complex, Spike already running ahead. Oliver turned back to offer Nick a wave, before disappearing into darkness once more.


Nick laughed as Spike gave him one last lick. He stood up, waving them off as they disappeared into the building.

 

[KatSea]

Go Grave Robinn', Go Grave Robinn'

"Test subject's identification has gone through." Roz's hand fluttered up to Colin's sleep deprived demeanor, it's concaving structure awakening in a flutter of panic. Roz's exasperated sigh barely had the strength to reach his foolish pupil, whose knuckles furiously ran across his sand crusted eyes. "Gabriel Wells. His corpse should be in the local cemetery. He died two years ago, gunshot to the chest." Roz patted Colin's shoulder, directing his vision to the nearby table. Roz grasped a small plastic container, a brozen, warn bulletcase playing wearily on its side. "I couldn't get all the details, his file is good and shut but...I have sent a message to the local caretakers. His body is to be returned as swiftly as possible. They are going to come Monday afternoon. There is no reason to keep him from his grave, any longer. However…" Roz frowned, circling the table where the young man's corpse rested.

"Two things, Colin. One, his body is nowhere near two years decayed. In fact, I would estimate he's only been dead a couple of months. There are no evidence of freezer burns, which I would assume is where he would have been kept if he was stolen. Yet...Colin, Gabriel Wells was found in a public area. Splayed out. As if he had tripped over his goddamn shoelaces. Someone must have left him there, but it makes no sense. There was no attempt to cover him. There was no attempt whatsoever to hide his identity. It...it is as if…"

He got up and walked out of his grave. Roxanne's gentle voice cooed, brushing against Colin's ear with a melodious mischief. Colin winced.

"W-weird." Colin claimed, swallowing the anxiety forming in his throat.

"I would ask you to take a look, see if that faint voice in your head would give you answers but...He doesn't have the gene. I cannot risk you losing an ability for an image that may simply be the result of a psychotic break. Now. Colin, I fear that he was grave robbed for a purpose. Beyond storing his body. No freezer burn. No decay that would suggest damage from such a process. As far as I can tell...beyond the slowing decay...the process hasn't been fully tampered with. I...I have a horrific feeling about this, Turner."

---

Colin couldn't sleep that night. So, he did as he always did. He found a remaining surgery table and lied down, listening to the three gentle voices berating and soothing him.

"He is a remarkable specimen, lad. It is a shame you cannot examine him." The man with a broen tongue spoke first. He had never properly told Colin his name, but there was no need. He spoke with formality, not with a hope for connection.

"Colin should not have too." Roxanne mused, running her transparent fingers through her lover's hair. "No. Colin, darling, you should not surround yourself like this. Lying with the dead is not healthy."


"I cannot sleep, love." He commented, eyes fluttering closed to keep the burning images of his demons away. "It's always quiet...it gives me a chance to...to think." Colin, no later than mumbling these words, found sleep threatening to pull him asunder.

The stupid oaf had wandered off again. Four morgues. Emmeline had had to search through four morgues without any luck, and at her fifth, she was entirely too exhausted to be dealing with her darling Gabe's shenanigans. He was losing more braincells every time she brought him back, and she knew eventually… eventually, he'd degrade so poorly she wouldn't have much left at all. But she wasn't ready to give him up. To say goodbye.

Not when he was still the best damn company she'd ever had.

Sneaking inside was easy enough… people rarely needed to guard anything in a morgue. The dead were, well, dead… and their belongings safely stored away. It was a simply lock, easily picked, and she was inside in no time at all. The lower floor was where the stiffs were stored, and heading down two at a time, cautious, but optimistic, she opened the door to the main storage room, sneaking inside. On tiptoe, she made her way past the surgical tables and to the doors, reading across the labels one at a time…

"C'mon… c'mon. Where you at, Smush. Where you at?"

Colin's eyes remained closed as he heard the first door open. Roz? That didn't make any sense, the man barely came in here during the night(didn't want to admit the possible bumps in the night made him antsy). However, as a voice accompanied the sound, he held his breath. Female. Not apart of his imagination. His table had been outstretched, but he decided his best course of action was simple.

Remain dead. He continued holding his breath, carefully peeking one eye open to try and get the image of the woman who had come to visit. Smush? Where was…

His heart sunk into his chest. He had a feeling he was about to get robbed.

"No, no, no… Yes!" A little louder than she meant to, but who was she going to wake up? Blushing slightly, Emmeline moved her hand from the label down to the handle and gave it a crank, the door swinging open with a small creak. Stepping back, she pulled the drawer out, and revealed the man on the slab. He was tall and well built, but for the two holes in his waxen chest, and he might've been attractive at some point, if it weren't for the fact that he'd been dead for, well… a really long time.

Fingers to his temples, Emmelia breathed in and whispered softly to the figure on the table. A moment later, his eyes snapped open and up he sat.

This woman was about to steal a body. Colin's heart sunk as he thought about Gabriel Wells, who had been missing from his grave for almost two years. Surely enough, his eye was open wide enough to see her pull the exact person from his resting table. Colin's mind flashed with possible things she could be stealing a corpse for. To hide it. To bury it somewhere else. Or she was just insane.

Then...he sat. Alive. On the table. Colin's breath caught in his throat and he clamped a hand over his mouth to keep a scream from forming. "Holy shit holy shit holy sh-"

The exclamation didn't come from Gabe. He hadn't talked in a long time - nothing more than grunt-words a toddler could probably say with more emphasis… and she hadn't said it, "Oh no…" Turning slowly, she looked across the room to see another figure sitting up on a table, and her heart gave in, "Ho! OH no no no! Not you. I didn't mean to… OH geez. I'm so sorry. It'll wear off in a few hours, I swear…"

"What the fuck?!" Colin finally exclaimed as the woman turned over to him, his heart slamming wildly in his chest. He tried to scramble over the table, only to find himself colliding with the tile floor. Despite the shot of pain up his back, he scrambled to his feet and grasped the sides of the metallic table. "Is that a fucking zombie?!"

With a squeak, Emmelia stepped back, eyes widening, "What!? Where!?" But then she realized exactly what he was saying, and looking to Gabe, who was currently digging a slightly crooked finger in his ear, she breathed out, "That!? OH. No. Nah, he's… I mean. Dang. I guess a little bit but not like… you know… the movies or anything. He won't try to eat you. He's just… um. Well, he's my boyfriend."

Colin kept a firm hand clasped over his heart, desperately attempting to catch his ever leaving breath. Oh, God. This couldn't be real. Then again, he did hear and see specters of his past, but that felt...controllable. Explainable. His eyes remained trained in horror at the newly alive Gabriel Wells.

The problem was, he seemed more dead than alive. "Boyfriend?" He gasped, unsure of what reality was at the moment. "You...you reanimated…"

"You know...you shouldn't act so surprised love. You pretty much did the same to me." Roxanne's intangible arms looped loosely around Colin's waist as she buried her head into his shoulder. "Although you are cute when you are scared."

"...It doesn't last." She said, with what appeared to be a small pout, "But I miss him… You alright there? I… You're not dead, right? Kinda figured, but I dunno. Weirder things have… no! Gabe. That is NOT food…" She barked, as he started to chew on the wristband of her watch, "...Gabe…" With a groan, he released her arm, "Sorry about that."

"That...that explains the decay." Colin mumbled, the spirit of his lover laughing as if Colin had just discovered that metal gets hot. "I'm...I'm alive I think. Or...or I'm in hell. I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case." He rubbed his brow, his back beginning to ache sharply. Roxanne's phantom(literally) fingers began to trace shapes on the small of his back. "Gabriel...Wells. You...you grave robbed him so he could reanimate. But...how?" Colin blinked. Mutation. But he couldn't dream of what she was actually doing to maintain her "boyfriend's" current state. "I...Huh. Huh. Huh." Colin, speechless, slowly managed to loosen his grip on the slab.

"...I'm not entirely sure you're not dead, either…" She stated, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, "Except you definitely talk better than--Oh… well…" He started to mumbled, and she looked to Gabe with a brow raised, "This is kinda awkward, now. OH! Right, how. It's… well, it's kinda complicated. I don't really even understand it myself. Kinda just… happened one day. It was wacky. My neighbor's cat… yeesh. Not pretty."

"I think I'm alive." He grumbled, staring at the corpse with a mixture of wonderment and absolute horror. "Okay. It is a mutation. That is a relief." He brushed his hand through his hair, which had gotten scraggly from the fall. "Okay. Okay. So...so you resurrected him. More than once," this shouldn't have been possible. Yet… "Where...where are you taking him?"

"Home, silly." Chuckling, she looked over to him Gabe with a grin, "He only lasts a few hours, but it's just… it's nice, you know? Getting to see him. Normally he doesn't wander off, but he's been so testy, lately. Restless."

"So...so you take him home. He dies. You bring him back again." Colin found a pit growing in his stomach with each word this woman spoke. Roz was going to be pissed if he realized Colin had allowed for a corpse to be stolen. Let alone animated. "Perhaps...perhaps it is good to let him sleep?"

"...I don't wanna let him sleep." Frowning, Emmeline shook her head, and defensively, stepped in front of Gabe, who had taken to flopping his arm up and down on the table, making a heavy 'thwock' sound, followed by a dull, grunt of a laugh, "I need him."

"..." If Colin wasn't horrified witless, he could have laughed at the ridiculousness of the man's actions as she spoke. It was...too ironic. Too, er, on the nose to prove his point. "Miss, I do not know how much of him there is left."

Gritting her jaw, Emmeline's frown deepened, "Stop it. Stop… He… he's my… he's my Smush and I need him. Now…" Straightening, she cleared her throat, "Are you gonna get out of the way? Or do I need to show you much of him there really is left?"

"Love you really shouldn't compare...you are no different" His eyes fluttered close as her false lips greeted his. He wanted to reply to her, he wanted to hold on and tell her it was different. But truly, it was not.

"Smush?" He questioned instead, swallowing as he could feel his hands heating up. There was no way he could properly make a flame in his hand, yet that did leave him some wiggle room of not burning the place down. "I can't let you steal a corpse, Miss"

"He's NOT a corpse!" Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped to the side, opening another latch, the door swinging open, "This… is a corpse." Hand hovering over the man on the slab, she stared at him, defiantly, "We're gonna walk out that door, Gabe and me. Or I'm gonna wake up every damn stiff in this place… and we'll have a real fun time."

"You…" Colin tried to see if she was bluffing. He attempted to examine she through and through, only for a ghostly laugh to trickle down his neck.

"She will my love."

"L-look I ain't the owner of this place. I'm going to be in a lot more trouble than you awakening the morgue is going to be. Lets...let's try to solve this peacefully."

"Peacefully is you let us walk out the door. That's it. End of story. End of discussion." Her hand moved closer to the corpse, glare deepening, "Someone took him from me once. I'm not letting it happen again!"

Without his full control, Colin's hand ignited. He held it behind his back, the heat dangerously close to the back of his shirt. Well, that had never been completed successfully before. He swallowed. "Miss I understand you are upset. Please...do not take me wrong. I understand the pain of losing a beloved."

"You understand?? How could you possibly understand!?" Smacking a hand down on the table beside the corpse, she shook her head, "Two years! They took him from me two years ago, and I have kept him going this long! You won't stop me. You won't."

 

[Elle Joyner]

Grave Robbin' pt 2
Collab with @KatSea

---

"My love has been dead almost a year. I've kept her with me, but, not in the way you have." He tapped his temple as confirmation as to what he meant. "I know your pain, I do."

"Honey if you are telling her to let him go then you have a lot to consider." She hummed, burying her face in his shoulder. He tensed.

"I...I won't stop you."

Hand shaking slightly, Emmelia lowered it, looking at him incredulously, "You won't…? We can go?"

"No. No I won't." Colin found himself stammering, the light in his hand going off. He swallowed anxiously, already attempting to come up with a reason to Roz he let a body up and walk out of the morgue. "Just...just don't bring anyone else alive, okay?"

"N...no. I won't." Nodding firmly, she closed the drawer, sealing the latch before she turned to Gabe, "C'mon, Smush. Time to go…" Gabe continued to smack his hand on the table for a moment, before he turned and swinging his legs around, dropping down to the floor, "I'm sorry about your girl…" Emmelia added, without looking to Colin, "What was her name?"

"Roxanne." Colin answered, eyes glued still to Gabriel Wells. He had a feeling he was going to be put into the same slab his patient had climbed off of when Roz heard about this. "I'm sorry, Miss. I should not have tried to separate you two."

"Too sweet"

"It's… it's fine." Rubbing her arm, she paused, hesitantly. She needed to go. There were only a few hours… a few hours time in which she could keep Gabe functioning.. Yet there was something in this man's story that rooted her in place. He knew. He knew the pain she went through, every day…

"H...how did it happen?"

"We assume she was mugged." Colin muttered, feeling her dead fingers across his neck. She began to plant kisses to the back of his head, shivers climbing down his spine. "Her engagement ring was missing, wallet was gone, gunshot to the head. We think she said no and...we...we don't know for certain. The bullet used was a common caliber. Didn't think it was a personal affair. The...we didn't…" he swallowed. "I can keep her, though. In my reality. I don't know if she's really there or not but...she speaks to me. I see her. She tells me things only we'd know but…"

"You doubt me ~

"...I'm sorry." Sighing, Emmeline leaned back against one of the metal doors, as Gabe trie, with some effort, to sit back down on the slab (failing miserably, and instead settling for laying across it), "....My… Gabe. He… he was shot, too. When he was still… when he could talk to me… he told me he'd been in a jewelry store that was being robbed. The gunman panicked… and was gonna shoot the clerk and the big idiot jumped in the way." Sniffing softly, she wiped at her eyes and Gabe reached out a sallow fingertip, letting it drift down the side of her arm, "...It's not fair. The way life goes sometimes."

"No...life isn't…" Colin swallowed, eyeing the dead man. Two gunshots. Close range gunshots. Colin's eyes fluttered close and he tried to imagine it. Clerk behind the desk, or perhaps he had been forced out into the open. Gabriel Wells, going into action and jumping into the fray. When the first scenario he envisioned didn't work, considering Gabriel had lunged and assumably couldn't get two bullets so close together(unless two people shot at once), he tried a different scenario. Gabriel standing in front of the clerk. Refusing to move. That made more sense, but why the two shots? One shot would have sent him down, two shots suggest a purposeful kill. Unless the robbers had been so intent on killing Gabriel…

"I'm sorry." Colin claimed as his eyes peeled back open. He tried to recall something Roz had told him. I didn't get much about his death because it had been closed, but I at least know the confirmation of death. Two gunshots. He was found in the garbage but...I don't know much else. Case is closed. Can't look much deeper.

Colin swallowed. "Oh…"

"Thanks." Breathing out, some of the effervescence returned to her expression and she smiled, "I'm Emmeline, by the way. You probably don't wanna know that, since this isn't exactly conventional, us meeting like this, but, well… Momma said never leave a person guessin' your name. And you already know Gabe."

She gestured to the man, who had managed, somehow, to get his arm caught behind his head, flopped backwards. He waved it idly, or … quite possibly, intentionally, back and forth.

"We'll get outta your hair, now. Just.. uh… Just gotta get him upright."

"I'm Colin." He greeted, wondering how in hell that man could have been transported to the scene of a major crime to the garbage. That...that didn't sound right. There was no way that a gunman could have dragged a man out of the scene of a hostage situation. "Hi...Gabe. Emmeline." He greeted, shell shocked. He slowly climbed back onto his slab, pressing a hand over his forehead. "I...I'm still a bit of shock. Do...do you need help?"

"Erhm…" As she was already half-struggling to heft Gabe to his feet, her own sliding across the tile floor, she frowned lightly, pursed her, lips, then nodded, "Could ya? Just… You know… just give him a little boost and we'll be off!"

"Of course." Colin stated, as if he had expected this to be a normal routine. Pale, he slid off the table and grasped the corpse by his arm, gently attempting to lift him up. If his arm breaks off I'm going to...I don't know. Die. Die internally and hopefully externally

Giving a small push from behind, Emmelia managed to help heft Gabe upright. The trouble was, as soon as she moved out of the way, he began to slope again, leaning forward, onto Colin like a sack of potatoes. With a grunt, he raised a finger, tapping at the face on Colin's watch, "...Sh….shiny."

Colin struggled to keep the man upright. Oh God. Oh dear God, this was a horrific idea. This was...slowly Colin shoved his spare hand into his jean pocket and he swallowed. "No Gabriel, we have to move…"

"Smush… Come on, sweetie. You gotta let the nice man get back to work, now."

With a slightly dopey look, Gabe managed, with Colin's aid, to upright himself, staring with glassy blue eyes into the distance, "N….n….ice. M...aaaan." He groaned, and Emmelia grinned with pride.

Before, with a heavy thud, he flopped entirely to the floor.

"Oh!" With a small squeak of anxiety, Emmelia skidding beside him and crouched down, "No, no, no… He… he should have more time than that! He…" Looking up, wide eyed, she shook her head, "...He's just… I normally don't… I can just wake him… at home."

Colin blinked as he slid off him and hit the floor. Oh God. Oh God. He found breathing grew difficult and he stepped away from the body. "Emmeline maybe now is a good time to reconsider this…"

"...I thought we'd discussed this." She said, eyes snapping back to the once-again-deceased form of her late-boyfriend, "I just… I need to get him back to my apartment. That's all. He likes it there."

"How are you going to get him to his apartment?" He whispered, staring horrified at her. Oh, God. There was no way she could carry him by herself.

"Awww, sweetheart you are being kidnapped for the first time. Well, Colinnapped."

"...I… I… Do you have a wheelbarrow or… wagon or something? I could roll him… on a gurney… or… a wheelchair? I'll figure it out!" Her voice rose, slightly hysterical as she rose to her feet and looping her arms under Gabe's, started to drag him… nowhere.

"We've...we've got gurneys." Colin admitted, weak and tired. "It's...it's gonna be a little bit of a challenge getting him out that way but…" he rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how in hell he could possibly get out of this. This woman…

"Will you help me? Please? It's not far, and my apartment… there are elevators. It's late enough, I don't think anyone will see. Oh, please, Colin. I swear, I won't cause you any trouble… just… one more little thing?"

"Oh...oh…" Colin realized the severity of his situation and knew that if he didn't do as she asked, there would be a night of the living dead situation on his hands. Slowly, he made his way over to the resting table and rummaged his way through until he found some rubber gloves. Slipping them on, he made his way over to Gabriels decaying body.

He lifted him up over his shoulders, surprised by how well put together he remained "dear Christ."

"Thank you, thank you! If I wasn't with Gabe, I'd kiss you!!" With a grin, she rose to her feet, "I'll get a gurney! Where they at?"

"T-there's a c-closed room in the corner." He damn near whimpered, turning his head towards the guided official autopsy room. There had been plenty in there. He felt like he was losing his mind.

Dashing off across the room, she moved to the door he'd indicated and disappeared behind it. For a few seconds she was gone, but when she returned she had a gurney and several white sheets to show for it, "This oughta do. Here you go!"

Jesus Christ, Colin was about to steal a corpse. A recently reanimated corpse. If he didn't, he would for certainly be over come by zombies. He didn't exactly want to burn this place down in retaliation, but fear continued to creep up His throat. He just had to nap down here. Slowly, he placed the body on the gurney and grimaced. There was no way they could get this into the elevator without it being bizarre. He exhaled shakily. "J-jesus."

Looking over at him, she shook out a sheet and covering Gabe, patted the deceased man on the head, "Almost home, Smush…" Her eyes flickered back to Colin and she smiled, "Could you press the buttons? I'll push!"

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah." Colin repeated, barely able to register her words. Colin was never a very spiritual man, but he found himself muttering a lazy prayer under his breath. Without thinking, he went to the main elevator that led to the lobby and pressed the button. There had to be a better way than this.

Pushing the gurney with… more effort than it probably seemed worth, she guided the sheet-covered man to the elevator, waiting with a small humming sound, "You uh… you said you hear her, sometimes? See her? What… what uh… did you mean by that?"

"I don't know entirely how it works." Colin admitted as he joined them inside the elevator, staring down at his shoes with panic still clear in his eyes. "I just...said goodbye to her. I started hearing her and seeing her but...I think it's apart of...well you are a mutant, I see. I believe I am too. I was able to save some of her traits. Hair...hair color." He motioned, biting his lip and swallowing hard. He could still feel her arms around him securely.

"Oof. That's… that's gotta be hard. So, wait. When someone dies, you… you pick up parts of them, and… parts of you change?" Her eyes flickered briefly to the sheet and then back up to him, "You didn't uh…. With Gabe?"

"I…no. No. I didn't touch his skin. That's why I put on the gloves." He gestured to them, biting his lip. He didn't hear Gabriel, so he figured this was correct. "But, yes, that's how my ability works. That's how I was able to keep Roxanne with me. I didn't...I didn't really mean to."

"And you can't just… Get them out of there?" She asked, with curiosity, "Listen to me… I sound like you, tell me to let Gabe go. I just mean… it seems kind of like a rough time, having people chatting up there you know aren't around anymore. Why not be a dentist or… a chef? Why this job?"

"Er, well, I can't really control that they are there. I could let her go, but that means I need to transfer someone else. And to answer that question, well, this is the thing I've been doing since I was younger. I'm not trained in anything else. My...my boss is trying his best to figure out how I can continue this job safely without risking the dna I already have collected."

"Man.. I thought my powers were complicated." Shaking he head, she looked away, "I can't imagine having all those voices in my head. I'd feel like a crazy person…" This she said as she ran her fingers through Gabe's hair at the top of the sheet.

"It's complex. I don't fully understand." He stared down at he corpse, the way she stroked his decaying hair along his battered and decaying skin...she had to have been insane. Yet, there was sympathy that lingered in the back of his skull. He was no different from her. Having an ability revolves around reversing an effect of death was...addicting. Horrifying. The elevator door opened to the main lobby, a lump forming in Colin's throat. "Who's to say I don't feel crazy?" He mumbled. "I know there's an explanation, but god help me if I can find that out."

"I feel it, too, sometimes." She whispered, pushing the gurney into the open doors, "...Crazy. Problem is, I'm not. I know how all this seems. I know what it looks like, but you don't understand… No… no one ever cared about me the way Gabe did. No one ever took care of me the way he did. And letting that go… it… it means I'd be alone again. I don't like alone. No one does. I'd rather have voices in my head."

"No, I understand. I had Roxanne in the way you had Gabriel. I'd bring her back too if I could." A gentle kiss on the cheek this time. Colin reached back to touch her, to stroke her hair, to remind himself of how she felt against his touch. There was nothing for him to feel, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. Slowly, he managed himself behind the gurney and started helping her to push. "If it makes you feel better, at least you know you aren't insane. I can't prove the voices are...well, you know."

"Most crazy people don't know they're crazy, right? So if it feels crazy, you can't be… Or… I dunno. Something like that?" A brow rose and she shrugged, "Shame it was so long ago. I'd gladly bring her back for ya, but uh… they don't last that long, and…" Looking down at Gabe, she frowned, "They aren't the same."

"I...don't think she wants to come back. She tells me she's tired enough as it is." Colin swallowed as he gazed to the front door. Oh merciful Hades, please, please don't let Roz know he had done something so foolish. "I don't...I don't know if souls exist but, do...do you think he has his?"

"No." She said it quietly enough, but the emotion was there as she looked down at Gabe's covered form, "No, I… I don't think he does. Like I said… I'm not crazy. I just… I miss him."

"Then...do...do you think it would be well to let him rest? I know you miss him but, depending on what you believe, he's probably somewhere better than here. I think...as much as it hurts, he deserves to rest." He swallowed. "But I know why you want to take him home."

"I just… I don't wanna be alone." She repeated, fingers curling into the sheet on the gurney, "I know… I know I can't do this forever, but… but if I can hold onto him just a little longer…"

"You don't have to be alone." Colin said, running out of sensibility he could use. He swallowed. "The sooner you decide he can go to rest, The sooner you can learn to go on."

Smiling dryly, she shook her head, "Go on? I don't like meeting people. Too many rules. I'm not good with people." Looking up from the gurney, she shrugged, "Won't have a choice, though, eventually."

"You...You've already met someone." Colin suggested, mentaly kicking himself for even considering saying such a thing. Colin needed to makek sure this ended up as clean as humanly possible. He gently reached out to touch her shoulder, his heart thudding dully in his chest. "It's...it's better to take the first step."

"...I did?" Head tipping, she looked him in confusion, before realization struck, "Oh! You mean… oh. But… but why would you wanna be friends with me? I know I creep you out."

"I mean, there's no harm." He said with a confident nod. Besides, Colin could tell they were no different than each other. They both had the loss and the insanity that came with losing a loved one. He chuckled, although somewhat bitter under his breath. "And I don't creep you out?"

Laughing faintly, she shook her head, "I uh… I don't think there's any room for me to judge, Colin. I spend most of my time with a dead guy." Biting her lip, she looked down at Gabe, "I… I'm not ready. To… to say goodbye. Not just yet…"

"If...if you are sure." Colin sighed as he was incredibly close to convicing her to let Gabriel go. He brushed his hand through his hair, stretching his back as he considered what he could do. They weren't at the exit just yet but… "May we consider a slow but steady approach?"

"I wasn't planning on riding the gurney down the street with my hair on fire." She teased, with a small smile, "What did you have in mind?"

"Perhaps...slowly shorten the time you spend with him?" Colin suggested, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt Roxanne brush up against him, squeezing tightly.

"Hypocrite, my love…"

"No, no. No." Colin protested, wincing as she skimmed her fingers along his cheek. He wanted desperately to grasp his hands in hers. He could never grab a hold and his breath sharpened. "Lets...lets consider...slowly integrating him back to sleep…"

Eyes on his, Emmelia frowned softly, "...Fine. I'll give it a shot. But you have to, too."

"I…" Colin paled. Roxanne laughed pleasantly as she melted into his form. Colin didn't know how to respond. He should have figured it would come down to something like this. A compromise. "O-okay. Okay".

Holding out her hand, Emmelia looked at him expectantly, "Shake on it?" She wasn't sure if it was something she could do She wasn't sure it was something she would ever be able to do... But maybe a small, small part of her wanted this… To let Gabe go. Well… it wasn't Gabe anymore, really, was it…

Roxanne's hand clasped gently over Colin's. "You can do it sweetheart. Even if it's not today. I'm not truly gone, you know? I'm always with you. There's no reason to cling so strongly. I'm not leaving you." Colin gently took Emmelines hand and shook it. "Deal."

Looking at the gurney, she shuffled uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her neck, "So… so… I… shouldn't… take him home?" She asked, and there was a quiver to her voice, uneasy.

"You...you can visit him here." Colin offered, regretting it the moment it came out of his mouth. He slowly let go of her hand. "I don't...I don't see why you can't come visit…"

"...Wouldn't it uh… be kinda weird? Coming to visit the morgue? I mean. I know I'm the one who wanted to sit at home and watch reruns of Friends with my Zombie boyfriend, but… Don't you think people might ask questions?"

Colin rubbed his brow. "I could always tell the other mortician that you are a friend of mine interested in human anatomy. And…" Shes giving me a talk about weird? How many times did she dig up his body? "Look, having a decaying body isn't exactly good for an apartment. If you let the other mortician embalm him he's gonna last a little while longer."

...I...I put myself in a really dumbass position

"But… I…" Blinking, her eyes stung with tears, reddening around the edges, "But I won't… I won't be able to bring him back if… For some reason, it doesn't work, after… He could never come back, Colin."

"Okay, okay okay." Colin found himself stammering, considering his best options. "I can ask the mortician not to embalm him. I can ask him to stall on returning him to his grave. He...he was meaning to look at him anyway. Your power is quite remarkable." He claimed, hoping to distract her.

"Remarkable?" Looking up at him, she smiled faintly, "It's terrible. I hate it. Everything was fine, till it came around. You… you know what it's like? Having the ability to do this… It's… No one should have power like that. And maybe… maybe that's why I…" Biting her lip, she shook her head, "Maybe that's why I bring him back. So.. so I'm not tempted to do it to anyone else."

"It's beautiful." Colin claimed, biting the inside of his cheek. "Even if for a brief moment, you have the chance to say a proper goodbye to someone. And I know this type of power is addicting, to say the least." He clasped his hand gently upon her shoulder. "But it's okay. I'm going to help you through, alright? I know our meeting wasn't exactly a...an easy ride. But you deserve a chance with these sort of abilities."

Frowning in thought, she looked up at him, a brow rising slowly, "...Beautiful? I dunno about that. But thanks, I guess. I… I'd like to use it… to help people. Closure and stuff. But… but people… they have a tendency to take advantage." Running her hands through her hair, she sighed, "I'll do what I can, too, Colin… to… to help you with… your girl."

"People are bizarre, Emmeline. That's why I tend to spend time with them when they are dead. I understand them more, that way." He swallowed, realizing how awkward that must have sounded. "It's just the science of their psychology, their biology. Their nerves and systems and chemicals. When they are alive, it's a lot more complex than just that." He let go of her, dropping his hands to his sides and shrugging. "Thank you. I want you to know you aren't alone. I'm just as scared as you are."

"They're mean, is what they are." She muttered, before giving a shrug, "Guess they're less judgy when they're dead." She managed a twitch of a smile as he continued, nodding enthusiastically, "Okay, good. Cause I feel like I'm just gonna throw up. I won't, don't worry. But… it's there, you know? We… we should probably get him back in the cold."

"It's because they are being judged." Colin mumbled, remembering firmly what Roz had told him. He didn't believe him initially, but now as he was learning how to tolerate the voices in his head, he could believe it. "Please don't throw up…" Colin pleaded lightly. "I've got to clean up this place." He grinned teasingly, although the corners of his lips twitched. He pressed the elevator button again, relief flooding through him. He couldn't help but sympathize. Pity. It hurt him and he could fully understand why she was horrified. Why she was lonely. "It's okay to miss them. I would give anything to have her back. But life goes on. And that's okay. It means something good will come back out. I learned that a long while ago."

"I… I've been waiting a long time for something good. But I haven't ruled it out completely." She grinned, pushing the gurney back into the elevator as the doors opened, "It… it should be easier than this. Letting go. But I guess cause it's been so long… it just makes it harder. It's like slowly losing him all over again."

"It just takes time." He promised as he hit the down button in the elevator. His hand gripped the edge of the gurney until his knuckles turned white. "You know that, at the very least, you can pace out your goodbye. And as I've told you, you aren't alone in this."

"Thanks…" She repeated, nodding with uncertainty, "Colin… can I ask… w...why were you sleeping down there? I realize this is kinda hypocritical of me but uh… it's kinda edgy there."

"Edgy?" Colin inquired, confused by what she meant. There weren't any particular edges that he could have scrapped against(unless he was being really careless and managed to run his skull around the corner). "Uh, I wasn't necessarily sleeping there. It was just a quiet place compared to the apartment, that's all. Gave me a moment to think."

"Yeah… You know. Like… 'hullo my name is Steve and I hate sunlight, showers and all things bright and beautiful cause I secretly wish I was a vampire'. That kinda edgy…" A brow rose as she frowned, "They follow you home??"

"Uh...I'm not following." Colin claimed with a frown. That didn't make an incredible amount of sense, there was no way he was similar to this fictional Steve. He loved showers and sunlight. He shook his head. "Yes, they do. Everywhere I go. The morgue is just...slightly more secure."

"You… nevermind." Laughing softly, she shook her head, "You do you, Colin." Not like she could judge much, "Geez. They don't give you any peace? Kind of a wonder you aren't crazy…"

"I don't know how I'm still standing." He smirked as the elevator door opened once more, taking the opportunity to push the gurney back into the storage room. "I guess I just got good voices."

"You oughta just tell them to can it… Just cause they're in your head doesn't mean they get to be rude and keep you up." The elevator doors opened and Emme stepped out, pulling the front of the gurney through, "Just not very nice."

"I can't exactly keep them hush hush." Colin mumbled as he managed Gabriel back into the main room. He opened up the slab, realizing he was gonna have to carry him back on. He grimaced. "Roxanne's nice. The other two are a bit trivial."

Shaking her head, she looked at Gabe, a soft sigh escaped, "This… this is very hard. I didn't think it was going to be this hard. Could I… if I just wake him up one more time?"

"Yes. That's fine." Colin wondered internally how well this could go, knowing that this was a slow and steady process.

She reached out to touch his forehead when something behind Colin distracted her, and a brow rose as she looked up, "...Expecting company, Colin?" She gestured to the elevator, which had begun to ascend again.

"What? No." Colin blinked as the elevator door closed and began up. Roz couldn't have been awake just yet. He had no idea who else would have come. The caretakers weren't supposed to come until much, much later.

Frowning, she shrugged before returning her attention to the dead man on the slab, "Maybe the button jammed up top…" Leaning in, she whispered close to Gabe's ear and as he had before, he awoke with a small groan, sitting up.

Her eyes, however, had shifted to the elevator again, brow raised, "Someone's coming, Colin."

 

[WingWong]

Now You See Me
Collab: Izumi and August @Elle Joyner
Flashback to: 3 years ago

---

It had been far too long a night even before now. Izumi had been kept waiting. For 27 minutes, she had waited, and it was 25 minutes too long a time for her to have stayed where she was. She had stayed out of faith. Faith she didn't have anymore, to say the least.


For 27 minutes, she had waited. She'd paced anxiously, up and down the street.


For 27 minutes, she had kept this duffle bag of equipment hoisted onto her shoulder.


For 27 nerve wracking, horrendous minutes, she had stayed in the area. She'd paced the street. She'd loitered. She'd tried to look as natural and unsuspicious as possible, leaning against walls and casually checking her phone as those minutes ticked by.


She'd nearly turned on her heel to leave, chalking up the night as a loss, when her client had approached. Fucking finally.


She needed to get paid, so she stayed. She humored him and his supposed inability to tell time.


That had been then. That had been 3 minutes ago. Now? Now she was furious. How dare he? How dare he keep her waiting and do this?


"Are you fucking kidding me? You're shorting me? Are you fucking kidding?"


27 minutes, August watched the woman. At first, his had been a mild curiosity. He was a people-watcher by nature, and she was an unusual figure, to say the least, but genuine intrigue had not sunk in until the agitation presented itself. She was waiting for something…. And clearly, whatever it was., punctuality was not its concern.


When he finally showed, the man she was apparently waiting for, there seemed to be a brief exchange, before a sense of fury overcame the woman, her words riding the wind, reaching August where he sat in his truck. A brow quirked, and he shifted, curiosity giving way to intuition…


It was about to go down.


Izumi and her client were partly shielded by the shadows of the building, the streetlight not casting its light over the pair. They weren't immediately visible unless someone was looking for them. For those that were looking for them and knew where they were, though, the sight before them included Izumi jabbing her fingers into the chest of the man in front of her.


"Look, I've already been here longer than I had to be as a courtesy. The price is not negotiable. If you can't pay what you promised, then I'll find someone who can," Izumi informed the man before her with a snarl across her lips. She kept her other hand firmly clutched around the strap of the duffle bag.


"Come on, there's no need for that," the man cooed, something in his tone making his words feel more slimy than soothing. He took a step forward, a small smile creeping across his lips. Izumi took a step back.


"Oh, is that so? You just decide to see if you can fuck me over before you pay me what I'm owed?" she asked, eyes narrowing. The man merely smiled, stepping closer, reaching a hand towards the shoulder she'd rested the bag on.


"No. I just don't think it's fair to get cheated. You were holding out on me, you know," the man continued, stepping ever closer. He licked his lips, smirk creeping higher. "I just want to make sure I get everything I paid for."


"The fuck are you talking about? I don't owe you anything," Izumi snarled, pulling away from the man. She should've left. She should've left a long time ago. "I'm done. You wanna play games, then go play them somewhere else."


She turned to leave, keeping her bag clutched tight, only for a hand to slam into the brick wall just behind her. He'd cut her off. "Fuck you!" she spat.


"That's the plan, doll," he said with a grin, before leaning in further, blocking her in.


Oh. Nope.


That wouldn't do at all.


Anger burned in August as snippets of the argument carried to him, and fists clenched, he kept a hand on the door handle in case a fight broke out. What came from the disagreement was far worse.


Rippling down his back, white hot fury lent clarity, and shoving his truck door open, he swiftly crossed to where the pair huddled.


"...Don't think the lady cares for your advances, bud. Maybe you should take a step back."


"I'm gonna give you three seconds. Get out of my space," Izumi bit out. She focused on a spot behind the man, above his head on the wall behind him. She felt static crackling along her skin, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. It always took a different kind of concentration to take items with her, and especially to make sure she didn't take people with her if they were touching her. Which this man most certainly was. She was about to pop out of existence with a crack, to leave this jackass far behind her, when someone else showed up.


Shit. A witness. She couldn't use her powers, not unless she wanted to risk the potential backlash.


The man turned to look at August, a scowl written across his features. "I don't think you were part of this, jackass. Keep moving. We're just taking care of business," he growled, grip tightening on Izumi's shoulder. She grimaced, disgust working its way into her features even as the grip became uncomfortable.


"Thanks for the concern, Pretty Boy. I promise I got it handled," she assured, with a smile laced with something sharp. Her eyes flicked back to the man in front of her. "Three seconds. Get off." She just needed his hand off of her. She just needed the hand off, and she could handle the rest. As for the witness… yeah, he needed to go.


Shaking his head, his eyes narrowed, "Taking care of business. That's a funny new pervert term. Pretty sure she ain't interested in what you have to offer…"


The woman spoke, and a brow rose, as the very edge of August's lip curved up. Tough. She was tough. Alright… fair enough.


"You heard the lady… three… more like two seconds, now, Prick."


"You got a fuckin' problem, man?" the man asked, now turning to face August. "How about I take care of business with you?" His hand slid from Izumi's shoulder as he pulled away just a tiny bit. Not enough for her to properly run, but she didn't need that. She had exactly what she needed, which was his hand off of her. She'd just have to risk the backlash from Mr. White Knight.


Static crackled across her skin again, eyes focusing back on the wall behind her attacker. She'd have to time this just right. Lucky for her, she'd gotten plenty of practice with that. She jumped, startling the man that had cornered her. Just as gravity began to pull her down, she disappeared with a resounding crack and a flash of blue light where her torso had been just a moment before.


"The hell?" the man swore, taking a step back from the wall he'd cornered Izumi at. Another pop filled the air, a flicker of that same blue light, high on the wall behind him. For just a moment, she seemed to defy gravity, the momentum she'd had from her jump pulling her to the wall. Then, just before she was yanked down, she sprung from the wall, her bag having slipped from her grasp, to tackle her client-turned-attacker.


As the man twisted towards him, August's lip twitched again, and he shook his head, "Sorry… you're not my type… One sec--" but before he could finish the countdown, something happened that he had not been entirely prepared for. In a bright flicker, she was gone, reappearing a short distance away a moment later.


Grinning, hands folding behind him, he watched the woman lunge, "Hell… She did warn you."


"The hell?!" the man said again. He'd turned to look back at Izumi, eyes wide. Her hands were outstretched, connecting with the man's shoulders before the rest of her did. She tackled him, sending the pair of them rolling. She managed to get in one solid punch to his face before slamming him face first into the ground. She twisted his arms behind him, the angle unnatural and painful as she pinned them at his back, earning a cry of protest from him


"If the word 'kinky' comes out of your mouth, I swear to God, I will put a kink in you," she spat, putting all of her weight onto keeping him down and making his arms hurt from the position. She leaned in a little closer, voice dropping. "You think I don't come prepared for this kinda thing? You think I don't know what I'm getting into? That I'm some sort of idiot prancing around at night? Dipshit," she snarled, twisting his arms further and earning a gasp and whimper for her efforts.


Her gaze flicked back up to August, wariness starting to seep in as she eyed him. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, he'd watched her do that. Maybe she could sock him and run before he became a problem.


August's amusement increased as the woman defended herself from the foolish man, her words as volatile and impressive as her actions. Only when she looked his way did he speak, and easy smile forming, "Wildly impressive, I have to say…"


Izumi stared at him, several seconds passing until her eyes narrowed a sliver. "If you're hitting on me, you're going to have to wait your turn in the ass-kicking line," she remarked dryly. "Have my hands a little full at the moment."


"When I get up, I'm gonna make you fuckin regr-," she cut the man off, having pulled his head back by the hair only to slam his face into the ground. His nose started spurted blood, and he sputtered, coughing.


"Sorry, what was that? All I could hear was your face crunching," she asked with a vicious smile, pulling his head up by the hair again and turning it so she could look him in the eye. "Did you have anything important to say? No? Good. Because the less you talk, the less I break your face in. Capisce?" she continued. He nodded after a moment. "Fantastic. I'm glad we could come to an agreement."


A dry chuckle leapt from his lips as he shook his head, hands held up in surrender, "I was referring to your abilities… and that right hook. No hitting necessary." His gaze flickered to the scumbag, and a brow rose as the man continued to pound his tribal drum of stupidity before his nose met concrete and blossomed into a jackson pollock of pain, "You're quite the negotiator, too…"


"Fat lot of good it does me now," Izumi snorted, blowing away a stray strand of brightly dyed teal hair. She leaned in a little closer to the man she had pinned under her, voice dropping just a touch. "Now, go crawl back to whatever hole you came out of. I've got things to do that don't involve your bullshit," she informed him, smashing his face into the pavement one last time. Then she rose to her feet as he tried to recover, finally allowed to clutch his nose. She slipped past, hoisting the bag back over her shoulder as she raised an eyebrow at August.


"Anyway, Shining Armor, thanks for the distraction. I owe you one," she sad, giving him a mock salute. She was about to say something else when the man spoke again, and this time, her blood ran cold.


"I'll report you. Not for the light show either. That'll just be icing on the cake when they find out what you're selling," he warned, slowly bringing himself to his feet as blood ran down his face. "You really should have better business practices."


Reaching out, rather suddenly, August gripped the creep by the front of his shirt and slammed him back against the building, his eyes narrowing on the man, "No. No, what you're gonna do, you unfortunate stain on human society… is walk away while you still have two functioning knee caps. You won't mention a damn thing about what you saw here… and you will leave this young woman alone." His hand shifted, just slightly, pressing, but not gripping the man's throat, "Because bad things happen to men who don't know when to keep their mouths shut or their hands to themselves. We clear?"


The man's eyes widened as he was slammed back. His mouth was pressed into a firm line, a sign of his quiet seething even as he swallowed thickly. "Yeah, loud and clear," he muttered, eyes narrowing briefly at August. Pain sparked just behind said eyes, crawling back over the top of his skull. He blinked, trying to focus as a wave of lightheadedness hit him. Blood continued to drip from his nose. He didn't like this at all. Still, he'd like to be able to keep breathing, so he nodded as much as he could with August's hand on his throat.


Izumi paused, her own eyes wide with surprise at seeing him lunge forward. Her fingers stayed curled around the strap of her bag as she tilted her head. She was silent, for the first time since the man with the currently bleeding nose had arrived, as she surveyed August. Assessing him. She wasn't going to completely relax just yet; she had too many reasons not to blindly trust the guy that seemed, at the moment, to be on her side. Still, her free hand relaxed, uncurling from the defensive fist it had been before.


Releasing the man, August gave her a reassuring shove towards the street, gaze steely for a second or two… A quiet reminder of the man's agreement mere moments before. Only when the man had meandered off into the darkness did August shift, fingers raking through his hair as he turned to look at the woman.


Casually… as if he hadn't just threatened a person's continued existence, he extended a hand, "August."


Izumi kept her eyes on him, quizzically studying August a few moments longer as the other man slinked away for the night. There was a beat of silence on her end, gaze flicking to August's hand. She grasped it with her own, a slow smile crawling across her lips. "Izumi," she greeted. Her head was still tilted, eyes flicking over him, the gears practically visible as they turned in her head.


"So what's your damage?" she asked after a moment, though the question was curious instead of accusatory. She was trying to figure him out. "Not a whole lot of people do what you just did."


"Nice to meet you, Izumi." Returning his hands to his sides, Auggie gave a small, casual shrug, "Don't care for seeing folks mistreated is all. Maybe not what most people would do, but I'm not most people. And I get the feeling you aren't, either..."


"Really? What clued you into that?" she asked, smirk growing larger. "The hair? My threatening him? The teleporting? Because I'll have you know I'm definitely an average citizen," she continued, snorting as she shook her head. "Nothing behind curtain number one."


Grinning faintly, August nodded, "Entirely my mistake. It was wrong to assume you're anything but perfectly ordinary… boring, even." With a chuckle, he slid his hands into his pockets, "Seems like you were built for something better than back alley dealings, though…"


"Ooh, now you're just hurting my feelings," Izumi answered with a chuckle, pouting softly. She shrugged with one shoulder, the one not currently weighed down by the bag slung over it, noncommittal. "Keeps me fed," she said simply. She mentally noted she'd have to be back at it again later, if she did, in fact, want to stay fed. Hopefully the next in line would be less of a creep about the situation. "Not like I got job opportunities lining up. But hey, if you come across somebody that wants a reckless lady with a habit of being where she shouldn't, gimme a call," she added with a grin.


Sliding his hand into his pocket, August pulled out his cellphone with a small, sly smile, "Gimme your number. Something comes up and I'll definitely phone you…"


Izumi's eyebrow rose higher. Her expression seemed to flick between emotions, intrigue then disbelief, disbelief then confusion, confusion then amusement. A huff of a laugh escaped her, her grin growing larger. "Shit, I didn't think that would work," she chuckled, shaking her head as she gingerly took his phone in her hand. "Any idea what line of work I'd be in if something did come up, or are we flying by the seat of our pants here?" she asked, glancing up at him briefly as she typed in her number, then handed back his phone.


Taking the phone back, August smirked and without responding to her question, he pressed the call button, holding the phone to his ear, eyes flickering over to Izumi expectantly.


Izumi watched, amusement playing behind her eyes as her phone began to buzz in her pocket. She slipped it out, turning the screen so that August could see his number displayed. Then she accepted the call, pressing the phone to her ear. "New phone, who dis?" she answered, smirking all the while.


Fighting a laugh, August ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket, "Had the job opportunity already, but figured hell… might as well get your number. How do you feel about cleaning up the streets of scumbag like your business buddy there?"


"Oh, so Mr. White Knight is a slick one. I see how it is," Izumi teased with a snort as she pocketed her own phone. Her gaze lifted back up towards August as he kept talking. Her head tilted again, intrigue written in her eyes. "I'd be interested in hearing more, to say the least," she admitted after a moment. "What kind of clean are we talking about here?" Her gaze flicked back briefly behind her, where she'd been cornered a few minutes ago, before meeting August's eyes again.


With a smirk, he shrugged, "Maybe not slick, but I've got a few moves." As she continued, his expression sobered and hardened slightly, though his eyes did not shift from her gaze, "I won't lie to you, Izumi. It's not pretty. Sometimes it requires… making certain decisions. Breaking some rules. Your hands won't be clean… but if you have qualms about killing a man… I won't ask you to."


"So I see," she agreed with a wicked grin. She sobered up as well, though the smile didn't fully fade. "It's never pretty. None of it ever is. If you're asking me to make hard decisions others might not agree with, it's already done. I've been there, got my hands dirty, and got the crappy T-shirt," she said, tone even. "Rules don't agree with me, anyway."


She was silent for a few beats, considering this. "I think… it would depend on what kind of man. Someone like him?" she added, nodding her head towards the alley way. "Just give the word."


Eyes taking her in, August nodded, "Sounds like we've got some things to discuss, then. It's a work in progress, but it's worth building. This city… This world… it's a mess. I don't imagine I can clean up everything… Definitely not on my own, but hell… we can definitely do something, you know? Especially if you're willing to lend a hand."


"Sounds like it," Izumi agreed with a short nod. Her eyes looked up above him, grazing over the area around them. It was funny. It felt like her own words in someone else's mouth. The world was a mess. Still was. Probably always would be. But it could be a different sort of mess then. They could change it, with every little bit. Before, it was every piece of equipment, every piece of information. Now, it may be even more than that. "Every little bit counts," she said simply. "Every little bit makes a difference." She gave him a smile. "Besides, even if we can't fix it all at once, gotta start somewhere. Right?"


"But there's a few things you should know, because you sign on. I'm a transparent man, Izumi. I make it a point to be. Hiding things… being secretive… it's worthless when you're working together, and I imagine it's a large part of why groups like Rogue… why they fail." Looking over at her, he shrugged, "I wasn't always a mutant. I was hit by the toxin… my powers manifested shortly after. At the time… I was working for the organization RIEF."


Izumi fell silent again, head tilted as she listened. Her breath caught as 'RIEF' landed on her ears. Alarm bells went off in her head, and she tensed again, ever so slightly. She'd grown up with that being her enemy. With that being the group of people that wanted to hunt her down, tear her apart, and only once they were done, destroy her as mercilessly as possible. "...You understand why that makes me wary, don't you?" she said after a moment, shoving away the urge to run as far away as she could.


"I'd think you were nuts if it didn't." Chuckling dryly, he shrugged, "I was taught to believe mutant kind were the enemy. I never questioned it until I became one and I recognized the struggle just to survive. This… This thing that I do? It's my only way of atoning for my actions." Turning back to her, he smiled, "I understand if this is a deal breaker… that's why I tend to lead with it these days."


"You're gonna think I'm nuts before all is said and done anyway," Izumi commented with a snort. She fell silent once again, something a little harder behind her eyes this time around. She assessed him again, pursing her lips as she considered. "You wanna atone? Prove it, Pretty Boy," she said finally. "I lived my life hunted down. Nothing's going to fix that, or change that. Prove that it means something to you anyway. I'm not going to give you a straight answer until I get that much."


"Possible I'm a little crazy, myself… so I'm not one to judge." Turning towards her fully, a brow raised. She drove a hard bargain, but he wouldn't have it any other way. That edge of steel was entirely what he needed… and if that required a little work, on his part?


"What can I do to prove it, Izumi?"


Izumi tapped the tips of her fingers against the duffle bag strap, considering this. What could she ask for, what could she make him give that could prove she could trust him? What could she ask for, that if she couldn't trust him, she'd be able to repay the favor?


"You say you're a transparent man, that you don't see the point in keeping secrets if we're working together," she began, straightening as an idea came to her. "So don't. Keep secrets, I mean. Show me where you live. Show me where you work. Show me where this little… operation is going to take place." Because if he crossed her, if the day ever came that she found out she'd put her faith in the wrong man and survived, she was going to return the favor. She was going to hunt him, precisely the way his old employer had hunted her.


With a small chuckle, August nodded, "That's fair. And incidentally, won't be too difficult. They're roughly the same place." Gesturing across the street, he pointed to the white truck idling by the curb, "It's faster if we drive… if you trust me enough to get in…"


Izumi glanced over towards the truck. "Fair enough," she said with a light shrug. "And it's not like you can trap me in it, right?" she added, looking back over at him with a wicked grin as static crawled over her skin again. She walked towards the vehicle, taking the lead. She kept the static feeling on his skin, her eyes point somewhere far from August's grasp in case she needed to pop away. Just in case, just in case.

---

Returning home from Carmen's apartment, August felt struck by a wave of exhaustion. These nights… The nights when difficult decisions needed to be made were always the most difficult, and always left him drained. The world was falling apart at a rapid rate, and more and more, monsters were made of ordinary men, while the good were hunted down and persecuted.


On the truck ride home, the radio had declared the great tragic loss of Kaiden Hull at a rally for mutant rights, and somehow, August couldn't quite bring himself to find compassion for his former employer… Kaiden murdered hundreds of mutants, only to be murdered by a mutant… fighting for their rights. Irony. It was a cycle… And it would never end.


Parking his truck, he made his way up to his apartment and slipping inside, dropped his keys on the table by the door, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.


It had been an interesting night, to say the least. Izumi had been antsy, with energy to burn and nowhere to focus it. No matter what she did, it hadn't seemed to ease. There was something in the air. Something had been changed when she wasn't looking.


She'd flicked on the TV. It wouldn't fix the tension, but at least it was a distraction. It had proven to be quite the distraction, too. Kaiden Hull, dead at a rally. It had been news in and of itself. She'd never gotten all the nitty gritty details about him, really. She'd kept herself fairly far removed from Rogue and its grand schemes, the biggest exceptions being trades for information and when she'd worked with a few members as the organization was falling. What she did know, what details she'd been able to pry out, was that Kaiden Hull's death was not tragic nor a loss to mankind.


That was before she'd seen the suspect's face plastered on the screen. There was no mistaking it. It was a face she'd known for a time. Dorky and troubled, but definitely no mistaking it. Her jaw had dropped, leaving her unable to tear her eyes away. Somehow, it had never occurred to her Finn would take that sort of route. She'd muted the TV when she'd gotten the call, still staring at the screen when she'd answered to August's number. She was then given another outlet for that energy. Another distraction.


It hadn't lasted long. Jumping across town, leaving flashes of blue and cracks that reverberated through the air in her wake, she'd ended up in the hospital. She was quick, merciful. Possibly more merciful than the guy deserved, if August had called her to take care of it, when he couldn't do it himself. She'd kept it simple, an empty needle between the man's toes. It looked like a heart attack, no doubt caused by a life of drinking and recent stress, to anyone that didn't know better.


She'd been back in no time, having sprawled herself out on August's counter waiting for him to return. She didn't turn the TV back on. Instead, she'd stared up at the ceiling, patting her palms on the counter as she waited for the target for her anxious energy to return. Then she heard the door open, and the jingling of keys. "Hey, Pretty Boy. That you?" she called, not moving from her leisurely perch on the kitchen counter.

 

[Elle Joyner]

Grave Robbin' pt 3
Collab with @KatSea

---

"What?" Colin questioned, unnerved by this new development as the elevator once against shifted. He motioned to Gabriel and to her. "You two, autopsy room." He directed, eyes firmly locked on to the elevator. "It…I don't know who might be coming but it's better you and Gabriel go." Anxiety built up in him. It had to be Roz.

"We're not leaving you." She stated matter of factly, "I'm a lot of things, Colin… but I'm not dumb. If you weren't expecting anyone, it could be trouble. And those ghosts in your head can't protect you… but we can. Gabe?" His head tipped lazily a little too far to the side, "Guard."

Something shifted in the man's visage then and lifeless eyes sparked as he straightened, shuffling off the slab. He stood in front of Emmelia, who smiled over to Colin, crooking a finger at him to suggest he do the same.

"I'm just praying it's not trouble." He muttered, focusing on his hand until puffs of smoke were able to emit. Slowly, a small flicker came to life and he made his way behind the two. Something about Gabriel changed rapidly, who now appeared to be more...alive. He swallowed and opened the door behind them, gesturing them inside before he pulled it close. The lights had already been off, concealing them in darkness, guided only by the small flicker in Colin's hand. "We keep quiet, okay?"

Her eyes took in his hands, the sudden change and a brow rose in curiosity, but as he spoke, she listened, following him into the room. Nodding, Emmelia put a finger to her lips to indicate that she understood, her eyes still on Gabe, who was watching the elevator steadfastly.

The elevator doors opened and three men stepped out. From the dim light inside, they appeared to be dressed in black, and in their hands they held what appeared to be automatic weapons. Swallowing, Emmelia clenched her hands together in an anxious knot.

Gabe remained in place and slowly, the men fanned out, searching…

"What are they looking for?" She whispered.

Colin managed to peek out to see his visitors. He had to clamp his hand over his mouth at the sight of the weapons and he slid down the wall. "Oh...oh holy...I...I don't know." He whispered in reply, eyes skimming around in the dark. There were barely any windows down here. There had to have been a way to get out of here...one window. But that was back in the main room. There weren't exactly many things that Roz wanted that could affect the bodies in his autopsy room. But there were scalpels and plenty of items that could be used as weapons. Just not against guns.

"Sit tight, Colin." Emmelia answered, seeing the sudden uneasiness in the man. Breathing out, she took a step forward and carefully put a hand to the doorknob, giving it a slow, cautious turn, "Gabe…" She whispered, "Get them." Pulling the door open, she stepped aside as the deadman lumbered out of the office.

The nearest gunman turned as Gabe clambered towards him and yelling, he raised his gun, but barely a few bursts fired from it before Gabe had torn it from his hands. His free hand snapped out, caught the intruder by the throat and lifting him, Gabe hurled him across the room, where he hit the wall and crumpled. The other two men had come running at the sound and skidded to a halt in their tracks, one of them swearing loudly. Their weapons raised and they opened fire, and with a squeal, Emmeline dropped down, hands over her head as the office viewing window's glass shattered inward.

Gabe, oblivious to the bullets being hurled in his direction grabbed one of the men and lifting him overhead, slammed him back down with a sickening crunch. The third gunman backed away, lowering his weapon. Spinning on his heels, he raced for the elevator, but Gabe had already caught up to him and snagging him by the collar, yanked the gun free, hurling it across the room.

"Gabe! Hold!" Emmeline cried out, with a hiss of a grimace. The dead man froze, the assailant flailing halfway off the floor. Looking to Colin in the dark, Emmeline nodded, "Questions. You should ask him questions!" She continued, slightly breathless.

"W-Wait." Colin barely had time to protest as Gabriel Wells had stumbled out into the main room, his inhuman abilities shining through with each man he had taken care of. Colin wouldn't have taken the decaying man for being any stronger than a twig, and yet here he was, taking care of a small assault group with nothing but his hands. Colin made sure that he hovered over Emmeline as the bullets flew, straightening once the sounds cane to cease. He was surprised his ears hadn't been blown out; yet his spirits voices remained pleasantly muffled.

"Hmm?" Colin questioned as he made his way to his feet, peeking out his his hiding space. Gabriel had captured one of the men, a stranger who Colin could not identify. It didn't make an incredible amount of sense that his morgue be assaulted. There wasn't a great amount of money or possessions, most of that went to the actual funeral home or towards the family.

"What the hell?" Was simply his first question, remembering he needed oxygen in order to breathe. Inhaling sharply, his eyes hardened and he examined the man. "Who are you?"

Turning and twisting in the grasp of the dead man, the intruder spat something unbecoming of a gentleman, but however he clawed at Gabe's hands, he could not get loose, "You're a dead man, Turner! Doesn't matter when! You won't get away…"

Emmeline had come out of the office, huddling by the door, her arms wrapped around her as she watched with an uncomfortable position.

"Doesn't matter who I am… You're dead." He growled, and biting hard on his cheek, he grimaced, before sputtering suddenly, his body jolting with convulsions. A moment later, lips foaming, he fell limp.

Colin paled at the man's words. Nausea built up in his throat as he watched the stranger trash feebly in Gabe's grip, confusion bubbling in his chest until primal fear was the only thing he could comprehend.

"Pissed off an ex, hmm?" Roxanne mused softly; Although for the first time there was genuine concern and confusion for Colin.

"I…" Colin took several steps back, the flame dying in his hand entirely. The man convulsed helplessly in the dead man's hands, soon falling over limp. Colin wasn't sure how quickly his heart was beating, nor where his breath was. Slowly, he approached the dead man and felt his wrist to check to make sure he was in the clear. "The...the hell?" He whimpered, letting go of the man's still warm wrist. "What the hell?"

"W..woah." Emmelia whispered as the man dropped from Gabe's hold, landing with a heavy thud on the ground, "Wh.. Who would wanna…" Sucking in a sharp breath, she leaned back against the door frame, "Who'd wanna go and kill a guy who works in a morgue??"

"I don't know. I don't know." Colin whispered, brushing both his hands through his hair as stress climbed up his spine. Three people. Automatic weapons, which if he was fully aware, were incredibly difficult to get. "I can't...I can't say why…" Colin was surprised how composed he was in comparison of how he should have been. He turned towards Emmeline, noticing a slick streak of… "Shit Emmeline, did you get shot?"

"Huh?" Glancing to where she'd had her hand clamped, Emmeline blinked, "O...oh. Yeah. I guess a little. No… no big." The color had leached from her cheeks however, and sure enough, her knees buckled out from under her.

Colin, with what little strength he had left, managed to race to her as swiftly as possible and support her with one arm wrapped around her waist. "It still needs to be treated. S-shit." He cursed, his mind still swarming from the reality around him. This...this couldn't have been happening. There were not people who wanted to kill him. There couldn't have been a woman who could bring back the dead. Yet, his arm was secured around her, his vision darkening. "I...I can treat it, but I don't know...I don't know if there's gonna be anyone else…"

"Gabe." She mumbled, "Guard…" And she pointed to the elevator doors, before looping an arm around Colin's shoulder, "M...maybe it's a mistake? Maybe they just…" Wincing, she sucked in another breath, "Okay. Ow…"

"They called me by my name." He mumbled, grimacing at her wince. "It's gonna be alright, I've got you." He promised as he led her back into the autopsy room with as little stress to her body as possible. He led her to a spare table, using his free arm to move down the cover and let her sit down. He made his way over to the front of the room and flickered the lights on, grimacing at the sharp pain that flashed across his eyes. He easily shuffled along the room, picking up tweezers, cloths, as well as sterilizers. "It's going to sting, just trust me that I'm not going to hurt you."

Looking up, Emmelia nodded weakly, gripping the sides of the table tightly, "Is… is there anyone you can think of who would… who would wanna hurt you? M...maybe someone's family? One of the… you know. The voices?"

"N-no. No. No one. Roxanne's family wasn't angry with me...the other two were loners. Unless Roz got into a lot of trouble...I...I don't…" Colin swallowed. It made no sense. Colin hadn't ever caused extreme harm to anyone he could remember, nor did he engage in illegal activities. This, this shouldn't be happening.

He made his way over to Emmeline, sterilizing the cloth before locking eyes with her. "It's going to sting." He warned her, knowing it was best to clean up the wound before and after. He needed to make sure his needle was sterile, too.

Nodding, she took a deep breath in, "G...go ahead." She'd been shot. All the dumb, reckless, crazy things she'd done in her life and it would figure the first time actually gets hurt is trying to do the sane thing for once… "I… I could bring one of them back. Sometimes if they're fresh, they're lucid enough to talk…"

"We can once you've been stitched up." He bobbed his head, realizing he was going to have to come up with a reason for three freshly rotting corpses. "I don't understand anything." He grumbled, horrified at the possibility of what any of this could mean. He gently cleaned up what he could, biting his lip as he applied as little pressure as possible. "Do you want anything to bite on?"

"I'm sorry. This… this is really weird, and I know I don't know you all too well, but you don't seem like the sort of person anyone should wanna…" Swallowing, she frowned, "Kill…"

She breathed in sharply as he applied the cloth, and squeezed her eyes shut, opening them only when he continued, "B...bite on?" Looking at him, her eyes widened slightly in concern, before falling to the needle and thread, "O….oh no. Oh no, no, no… You… this… Oh, Colin. I… I don't like needles. I really, really, really don't like needles."

"I...I don't know. I've barely had time to leave this place, let alone make enemies." His brow furrowed. There was one thought, but it was foolish and as far as he knew, there wouldn't be a major connection. He exhaled, noticing her fear.

"Okay. Okay. Um...it doesn't look like a horrible graze...it would be better to stitch it up now but I suppose I could just wrap it." He grit his teeth and moved back towards the counter, placing his materials back towards their original spaces. That graze was gonna need to get stitched up at some point, but for now, he figured he shouldn't take the risk. He scrambled for some gauze, surprised to see that Roz had kept a first aid kit along side his materials for the dead. The irony made Colin roll his eyes and he made his way back, gently taking hold of her arm. He began to unwind the gauze and wrap it around her wound. "It's gonna be a little tight."

"...Th...thanks." Her skin colored a little as she lowered her gaze, "It's… it's really not that bad. Hardly hurts." She lied, managed a weak smile, "We're gonna figure this out, Colin. What's going on. There's gotta be something that we're missing here. Something important. And one of those three are bound to crack."

"We can ask if they aren't going to end up rebelling against you." He claimed with a raised brow. He still couldn't believe he had just witnessed three men die. Because they wanted to kill him. What the hell did he do? Worst thing he had done in the last month was forget to fill a form out on time. Still, the lingering thought remained. "I might actually have an idea."

"OH, no. No, they…" Biting her lip, she considered the ramifications of what she was about to say. Of what it might make him think, "I… I don't think they can. It seems like they're tied to me. Like they have to do what I ask." Shifting, she looked up at him again, a little afraid of what she might see, "An idea? Of why they're after you?"

"R-right. It would make sense considering the presumable parameters of your ability." He bit the inside of his cheek. "Er, well. My father was in and out of my life and he doesn't truly talk about things that happened. Not that I ask, per say. I don't know, even that seems a bit of a stretch."

"...Your father?" Sitting up a little straighter, Emmelia's eyes widened slightly, "You think… you can't be saying he would hire someone to do this? Oh… I know that some parents aren't exactly great at their job, but that…"

"Not him, persay but...I don't know about anything that happened while he was gone. For all I know he got in trouble with drug smugglers." Colin rolled his eyes. "For right now I think the best course of action is to ask one of our...additions to the morgue."

Nodding, she looked to the door behind him, "...It's a little complicated. When… when they first… you know. I've only ever done it a few times, but it's always been kind of, well.. It's kind of sad. I dunno how it'll be with these guys."

"I understand." He wanted to make a comment about them being ruthless killers who wanted to make his body a desolate wasteland of bullets and regret(is that what Emmeline meant by edgy?). He shook his head. "Take your time with this. Honestly I don't know how we could have any more trouble...your Uh...your boyfriends strength is impeccable."

Chuckling softly, she nodded, "I figured out he could do that when… well, I was walking the trash out from my apartment and this guy came out of nowhere… tried to mug me. Gabe threw him clean across the front lawn." Shaking her head, she slid off the table, testing her arm with a small flinch, "...Not bad work, Colin. You coulda been a doctor. Ready?"

"Jeez. I need a Gabriel Wells body guard in my home." He smirked as he went over to the door, holding it open. His nerves had managed to finally clear. He figured working on something else rather that dead attempted murderers soothed him. "Would have been should have been. Didn't have the schooling for it. Turns out anyone can be a mortician, um, legality is a bit in the side." He grinned. "Come on lets...let's get this over with."

Laughing softly, dryly, Emmelia shook her head, "Sadly, I don't think he's gonna last long enough to be anyone bodyguard… But hey, who knows." Heading for the door, she stepped out into the room and grimaced at the sight of the three bodies, lying spread out. She didn't particularly relish the idea of waking up any of them, but she figured the one who had already started chatting was the best bet.

Swallowing, she breathed in deep and approached the body, kneeling down beside it, "God… this sucks. Just… just gimme a minute."

"Hey, take your time." He reassured her, slowly stepping next to him. He stared down at his attempted killer, surprised to find pity forming in his chest. He seemed a lot more peaceful dead than alive, unfortunately. It was a grotesque thought for Colin to have, that he liked him better now than he did five minutes ago. "We have time." His eyes flickered up to the elevator door, his breath catching in his throat. "I'm glad you came, now. Without you I'd be...er, a corpse."

"I'm glad I came, too." She said, with a small nod. She didn't wanna think what she might've stumble on if she'd shown up an hour or so later. Shuddering, she reached out a hand and with another breath, placed it on the man's forehead, leaning down to whisper.

Grey eyes snapped open and the man bolted upright, screaming hysterically. Reaching out, Aster caught him by the arm, "Shh! It's okay. It's alright. Follow my voice. Listen. Attach…" The man seemed panicky, but as Emmelia spoke, he shifted, turned to face her, a brow raised.

"...I… Wh...what happened?"

"...Cyanide pill is my guess. You killed yourself to avoid divulging information... Training, no doubt."

Frowning deeply, the man slumped back a little, "Then how am I…"

"Because… I brought you back. Just for a while, but it ought to be enough for you to set this right. To have some peace… Do you see this man, here?" She gestured up to Colin and the dead man nodded, "He has some questions for you. I want you to answer him honestly… alright?"

The man struggled for a moment, seemed to war within himself, but eventually, gave another nod, "...Alright."

"Go ahead." She turned to Colin, "He'll cooperate."

Colin was started to wonder if he was staring through someone else's eyes, but a gentle squeeze from Roxanne brought him back to reality. He tensed, hearing his beloved giggle as she attempted to soothe him.

"You and i can't go off into our happy endings too early, now can we?"." Colin swallowed, jumping back as the man bolted up and screamed. Oh, oh God. What…what the hell did it feel like for him to receive such an awful reaction? "Its not the death that hurts, baby. It's being woken up.." Roxanne reassured, peeking over at her beloved's attempted killer. "I wish I could put my hands on him just for one minute. Just so I can see his life leave him again for what he did…

"Why, and who is trying to kill me?" Colin asked, his voice distant in other thoughts for the moment. He couldn't admit that the sudden jolt from the dead man frightened him. Much more than the sight of guns or blood.

Jaw clenched, the man seemed uneasy about continuing, but a look from Emmelia and he opened his mouth with a sigh, "You're part of a bigger picture. My boss isn't top shelf, but she tells me it has to do with who you're related to…"

"Who is she?" Colin found himself asking before even referring to his relatives. He had a sinking suspscion he was correct. His father most likely got in it with the mob or some bullshit. Why they would go after him in retaliation didn't make much sense, though. He wasn't particularly close, nowadays.

"Her name is Maya. Evangeline Maya. She works for someone… someone with a whole hell of a lot of power. Who she is isn't the problem, though. It's who you are. They want you dead in a big way, and they won't stop until the job is done."

Colin had no idea who Evangeline Maya was. In all honesty; it sounded like a name from a woman he could have envisioned his father screwing. It wasn't someone he had met. It wasn't someone he knew his own family knew. "Shit." He cursed, eyes widened. He was a dead man with a target on his chest, it seemed. There were going to be repercussions for this, if he stayed at the morgue any longer. But where else was he supposed to go?

His eyes flickered over to Emmeline. "I need to get out of here."

"Running ain't gonna do you any good." The man added with a small, dry laugh, "All they had to do was trace you down to a picture, and they can find you. Any place. Any where. Any time. You will never get away."

Emmeline frowned and reaching over, gave Colin a small, reassuring squeeze on his arm, "What did his dad do?"

"His dad?" Another laugh escaped as the man slumped back a little, shaking his head, "Nothing. It's got nothing to do with him at all. Though I expect they'll be after him, as well."

"Then what the hell is this about?" Colin questioned, fists clenching at the thought of anyone else in his family having to be damn near murdered by men in black attire with cyanide pills in their mouths. "I...I don't care what he says. I need to get out of here." Pulling his dad into this was one thing, pulling Roz was another.

If what this man was saying was true. He had a sinking feeling he was screwed.

"Your sister…" The man said, plainly, with a small smirk. A moment later, he toppled backwards, and Emmeline frowned softly.

"...I...I can try to bring him back, again?"

Colin watched the body crumble with a serene expression. His fists relaxed. His shoulders slumped, and with a single finger raised towards Emmeline, he turned towards the autopsy room and slammed the door shut.

Colin covered his mouth and let out a muffled scream, which was soon accompanied by laughter he couldn't control. This had to have been a mistake. He didn't have a sister. He didn't have people wanting to hunt him down for no fair reason. There wasn't a Lazarus girl in his home. "This isn't happening. Nope. Nope." He repeated, over and over again, laughter continuing to ensue. His eyes burned.

As he stood up, Emmeline nearly rose as well, but when she heard the door slam, she settled back down. It wasn't okay. None of this was okay. A flop sounded a little distance away and she grimaced as she looked to find Gabe had fallen over again. No matter. She didn't expect anyone else was going to come then and there.

She was sitting in a room with four dead men. Somehow, that shouldn't have been so terrifying for a girl who could do what she could. And yet somehow, she couldn't quite contain the tremble. Pushing herself to her feet eventually, she crossed the floor and with a small sigh, knocked on the office door.

"...Colin?"

Colin's body slumped along the wall, resting his head against it as he roughly ran his hands down his face. He was trembling, as if he were a child again and needed someone to confirm him there weren't any skeletons in his closet. He felt pathetic, horrified, and yet somehow above it all, he felt relieved.

"One minute." He mumbled at Emmelines voice, realizing she was most likely in the same amount from shock. He stumbled to his feet, pressing his hands along the door to keep him balanced. He turned the knob and opened the door to see her, his own chest heaving. "Sorry. Needed a moment."

"...Don't apologize." She murmured softly, "You don't have anything to be sorry about. This whole situation? It's insane. I don't get it. And I've been through some really wacky stuff. I'm just… I'm making a guess here… you weren't expecting the whole sister thing? You… you said your dad was in and out?"

"I don't even have a sister. They've got the wrong person or...or something." Colin scratched the back of his neck until dull pain flared up in his skin. He winced but hid it with a shake of his head. "It's possible that he...you know, but, I don't know. I really don't know. Staying here...there's gotta be somewhere I can go. I can't imagine they can track me down anywhere on earth." Then again, they did easily track him down to the morgue, but whether or not that was intuition or genuine tracking was up for debate.

"You can stay at my apartment." She said, with a small shrug, "Till you figure out somewhere else you can go. It's not much, but I've got a fold out couch…" Looking up at him, she shrugged, "M...maybe tomorrow, you should try to talk to your dad? Ask him if he knows what's going on. If it's a mistake, it could be fixed."

Turner. They'd called him Turner. Somehow, she had difficult imaging it was a mistake…

"I don't want to cause you any trouble." He claimed, demeanor pale and damn near hopeless. He had no idea how to get out of this mess, considering he had no idea how he had even jumped right in. "I'm going to call him, though. Hopefully they haven't gotten to him yet...maybe calling him now is better than later but, it is pretty late." Colin's gut twisted at the idea that his father might have already been dead, but he shook the thought off. No. He, he had doubts that he was. He had an instinct that he would know something was off.

"You can't stay here, Colin. And they probably know your place… You could bunk out in a hotel, but then you've gotta use a credit card, and most of them still have scanners, even if they're not supposed to." Mutant discrimination was still well and truly a thing, even if the people hunting them down had fallen, years back, "It's just for the night. We could even take Gabe if that makes you feel better about it. Better you don't use your cell phone, or the phone here, though...just… just in case."

"Right. Right. And you are sure you are okay with having a wanted man in your home?" His brow raised. "I know I said I was going to help you out but this doesn't look like it will go cleanly if I stay anywhere. I would appreciate the hospitality, for sure. I'm just worried about other people's safety."

Looking behind her to where Gabe lay, flopped over on the floor, she fought off a grin, "You… you're really asking me if that bothers me?" Chuckling, she shook her head, before sobering again, "You can't do this on your own. That's a real easy way to get killed. Let me help you, even if it's just to give you a safe place to lay your head for the night. You can call your father… figure out what he knows… and then in the morning, if you still wanna try to run, well… we'll figure that out, too."

"Thank you, Emmeline. I owe you." He claimed with a bob of his head. "You did save my life and provide me shelter, for that I am in great service to you." He bit his lip as he looked to Gabe. "I promise to get out of your hair as soon as possible."

With a nod, she shrugged her shoulder, "Not like I didn't owe you. You could've caused me a lot of trouble, and you didn't. And I owe you for that." Fingers curving through her hair, she gestured to the door, "We should get out of here, in case they try to send someone else for you."

"L-let's go." Colin mumbled, eyes squeezing shut as he refused to look at the bodies. Without another word he made his way towards the exit, praying he'd wake up on the slab and go back to how things were a mere hour ago.

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

It Only Takes One Match
@Elle Joyner @DarinValore @KatSea

The stars hid behind thick clouds that had just recently dumped just enough rain to dampen the streets as they black SUV came to a quiet stop across the street from an apartment building. Five men exited, their eyes turned to the building across from them. Mitchell pressed his fingers against his earpiece and spoke, "Falcon has landed."

"Copy that, Falcon. You have the green light. As usual, there are no rules of engagement. Neutralize the targets by whatever means necessary."

"Yes, sir," Mitchell returned as he drew a handgun from his back. The other four men did the same, each of them screwing on silencers, "Cutter, take Valdez and set fire to the north, east, and west exits. Force them toward the south where the rest of us will be waiting."

Pulling the lobby door open, Mitchell and his crew entered immediately splitting into the directions they were supposed to be headed. Mitchell and the others stepped into the elevator and waited for it to allow them off at the appropriate floor. Setting his two men at strategic locations in the hall, Mitchell pressed his fingers against his earpiece again, "We take no chances. Kill anything that steps into the hallway."

A few minutes later, and the fire alarms began to sound.

"Here we go," he warned them, eyes locked downrange.

* * *

Georgie woke from her nap to the sound of a screaming alarm. The last time she had heard that noise, it was in the hospital, when they were forced to find avenues of escape that her addled mind had barely been able to grasp. Scrambling upright, her hand shot out to find Peter's, and she squeezed it… probably too hard, but hard enough to tell herself what was happening was no dream.

"Pete! Wake up! Something's wrong!"

Peter had figured reclining besides Georgie for a brief rest would provide his mind a moment of peace, his arm draped lazily over his demeanor as a gentle snore threatened to invade the air around him. In a moment, the strong grasp of his friend sent him bolting up, eyes widened at the realization of sirens. Alarms. Fire. If the neighbors had set off their freaking popcorn in the microwave...and yet Peter had a sinking suspicion this was much worse than his head could conjure. A settling pit of nausea rocked his stomach, his grip on Georgie's hand tight and unshakable. "Okay Georgie, we just gotta get out of here, okay? Stay calm and don't let go…" Keeping his voice soft, controlled, despite the roar of alarms, Peter carefully hopped out of bed, his arm seizing with a dull, sharp pain. Grimacing, Peter easily found his way to a sleeping Emiko, happily curled as a slumbering cat. "Sorry, Em…" Looping his arm underneath her stomach, Peter easily scooped her up and turned to Georgie. "We are just gonna head out of the apartment...S-sh…" Swallowing down his curse, his anxiety, Peter hastily began to lead Georgie out of the bedroom, heart in his throat. God, this felt wrong. This felt beyond a possible slip up or delinquent kid going out of his way to make the apartment building miserable and deprived of their sleep.

Emiko woke slowly in Peter's arms, roused by the sudden movement and blaring alarm. Confusion and panic stirred in her gut, speckled fur bristling, a string of meowls falling out of her as she burrowed further into Pete's hold. What was going on? Things had been so beautifully peaceful these past weeks… the safest she had ever felt in her life. Claws unsheathing, kneading slightly into Pete's arm, Emiko tried to tune out the harsh sound, much too loud for her perceptant ears.

The world seemed to move faster and slower all at once, as they made their way to the front door of the apartment. So many months now, they had been peaceful and content… a few slips here and there, but never anything quite so… Startling. Yet she had to hope this was just another false alarm… That they could curl back up in bed in a few minutes time and get back to snuggling.

A second sound rose beneath the alarm… screams of panic and fear, and Georgie felt her heart flutter in her chest.

"Something bad…" She whispered, clinging tighter to Pete, "Something real bad…"

Peter's grasp on Emiko loosened, but he kept a firm grip to hold her close to him. Georgie was right. This...this wasn't good, and he highly doubted his new found family was going to return to a restful slumber anytime soon. "Ladies just breathe, stay behind me…" He requested, form stiffening as the sounds of screams hit his ears. Fire. Couldn't have just been the goddamn microwave next door…

Ducking his head, Peter slammed his apartment door to head out into the hallway, eyes glued to Emiko's form in his arms, then back to Georgie. "Don't panic okay? We just need to stay calm and we will not be harmed…" Swallowing hard, Peter squeezed Georgie's hand in his own.

As smoke filtered into the hallway, Emiko's claws dug unintentionally into Peter's arm. No, no, no. Not again… No more fire. No more fire… all it made her think of was the circus. Of Mollie and Aras.. and Kaya…

With a sharp yowl Emiko pushed out of Peter's arms, landing with a graceful thump on the floor. Her tail was frizzy and stuck straight into the air with fear as she bounded ahead of the couple.

"Oh! Em… sweetie." Recalling to mind the patterns on her skin when they had first found her, Georgie grimaced… Fire. Of course she was afraid. Peter wouldn't like her plan, but they couldn't hide in the hallway until the flame ate through the building. She wasn't always smart, but she knew enough that they had to get out… And if that meant giving Emiko a gentle nudge of comfort…

Crouching, holding out her hand, she tenderly touched the tip of her finger to Emiko's cat ear, and shut her eyes, allowing a warmth to spread into the feline form… just enough. Just enough.

"It'll be okay, now, Pete."

The moment doors began to open, Mitchell and his team began to fire down the hallway. It didn't matter who stepped out, if they weren't fast enough to find cover once again, bullets would tear into them. After a few seconds of gunfire, everything fell silent.

"Did we get 'em?" asked Tex.

"Shh," Mitchell returned as he squinted into the smoke.

By some cruel snap of the universe's fingers, Georgie's promise fizzled out at the sounds of what Peter could not differentiate between bullets or fireworks. Pain ripped across the skin of his shoulder, panic overtaking him as he forced Georgie back into the apartment, desperately swinging his foot to catch Emiko's belly from underneath and trying to take her in with them. "The fuck?" He hissed through clenched teeth, the curse vile and bitter against his tongue. "Window, Georgie, get to the window…"

The gunshots ripped through the air, and even Georgie's gentle touch and infusing of serotonin couldn't stop the fear that ripped through Emiko's body. And fear was powerful, powerful enough to give her the strength she needed to allow her form to ripple and change, bones cracking and reshaping until a great grizzly bear stood before the two, maw gaping. Peter's attempt to pull her into safety unnecessary as her hulking form let out a roar, pummeling forward into one man, grabbing his arm and throwing him like a toy into the second.

Wide-eyed, Georgie fell back into the apartment in an odd state of shock, the rippling resonance of the gunshots echoing in her mind, fear momentarily, and oddly clarifying. She opened her mouth to speak when the roar exploded and snapping her gaze back to the hallway, she clapped her hands over her mouth, "Oh! Bear!"

Turning to Peter, her hand dropped, "Pete! You're bleeding!"

Mitchell was already pulling back down the hallway the moment the bear began to emerge from the smoke. The other two were not so fortunate as he watched as one was thrown effortlessly into the other. A curse rolled out from under his breath as he slipped into the stairway door, only after depositing a flashbang in the hallway to serve as both a distraction and a mode of cutting off the chase.

A thought of saving the other two men passed fleetingly through his head. They knew what they signed up for and the risk that it entailed. Instead, as he hurried down the steps, Mitchell pressed the earbud against his ear, "I'm coming out the front. Be ready with a real show-stopper. I might have a bear chasing after me."

"A bear? Did I just hear that correctly?" came the voice.

"Yes, a god-damn bear. It shifted from a cat to a fucking bear. If it chases me, put one through its skull. Other than that, we'll have to regroup and come up with a different plan...one that includes larger caliber weapons for the next time," Mitchell ordered as he pushed through the stairwell door and out the front.

The taste of blood on her tongue was all at once appetizing and disgusting, the animalistic side of her always begging for more, and perhaps she would have kept going, driven wild by the scent and the danger and digging sharp teeth further into soft flesh, if not for the flashbang.

A sharp cry fell from the bear as light exploded in front of her gaze, the sharp sound drawing her to stumble back as pained whines flew from her maw. Pressing herself close to the floor, Emiko shielded her eyes with her paws, but the scent of smoke, the painful ringing noise was too much, and her brown fur began to ripple and turn orange and black, a visceral memory taking her over as she continued to whimper. Soon enough the bear had been replaced by a quivering tiger, who's squeals of pain rang through the entire hallway.

The urge to panic rose for a moment, only a moment, in Georgie's chest, as her eyes flickered between Pete's shoulder and the door. This was bad. This was so, so bad. But it would only get worse if they did nothing at all. If she had done nothing when the asylum went down, then she never would have found Pete… never would've found Em.

"Sometimes, Muppet, when you don't know what to do, you just gotta move…"

A squeal of pain… Georgie looking to Peter and her expression clarified as she spun on her heels.

"Pills, Petey!" She called, before she spilled back out into the hallway. For a moment, she skimmed through the smoke, shielding her face with her hand, and squinting, caught sight of the bright orange shape a distance away.

"Okay… okay…" Closing her eyes for a second, she reached within and opening her eyes, allowed the power to pour out, a full dose, as much as she dared to give, "...Come on, Em… come on, sweetie…"

Peter barely was able to process Georgie's exclamation that the bullet had indeed pierced his skin, having avoided a close contact by mere centimeters. A good graze, but enough to cause concern to flood through him. Images flashed ahead of him, Emiko having transformed into a bear mere feet from him, colliding into the men that had sent the bullet spiraling against his flesh. Planting his foot behind him, he took into consideration the few words that were able to get through to him. Pills...Oh…"Shit." He whispered, knowing exactly what she planned to do with Emiko and the gunfire. Spinning on his feel, guilt swirling as he rushed into the washroom, scrambling through the cabinets before he curled his fingers around the requested item. "Got it Georg! We need to get the fuck out of here!"

The panic didn't disappear, but it seemed to bleed away into a different emotion, a strange and welcome feeling of warm fuzziness that felt extremely out of nowhere. Still, Emiko's whines ceased, and she looked up and around her, tiger-brows furrowed as she padded back towards Georgie, head low and bowed in thankfulness. She pushed her great snout into Georgie's chest and into the crook of her arm gratefully.

"There we go… Better, now." Georgie murmured softly, stroking a palm along Em's brow before she twisted back to the apartment. Smoke was still filling the floor and she could see from a quick glance around it wasn't dissipating, but building, growing closer and closer to a dangerous level… They were being smoked out. Driven out of hiding and forced to run. There were two obvious escape options - the stairs, which would lead down and to the lobby of the apartment building, and Pete's fire escape, which would flood them out into the conjoining alley. If she were a bad guy… which she wasn't, but sometimes it helped to think that way… she knew exactly where she would put her big scary men with guns.

Grimacing a little and straightening, she nodded as Pete appeared, holding the orange bottle of tryptophan, "...We should go up." She added, as if it were a perfectly ordinary thing to suggest, "To the roof!"

 

[WingWong]

Now You See Me Part 2
Interactions: Izumi and August @Elle Joyner

---

Dropping his hand from his face, August smiled faintly as he moved towards the kitchen, peering in at the woman splayed out on his counter like a misbehaving cat. Shaking his head, he leaned up against the door frame, giving her a look that suggested despite her feline tendencies, he was fairly glad to see she was home.


"Hey Zu." Crossing his arms, his gaze lowered slightly, not shifty, but in quiet calculation, "How'd it go…?"


Izumi turned her head to face him as he approached, a cheeky grin across her face. He seemed well enough. Good. "Smoothly. No issue," she said simply as she began to sit up. "Whoever got ahold of him before me did quite a number on him."


She stayed on the counter, though she was now perched upright. She criss-crossed her legs, leaning forwards with her arms braced on her thighs. She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. "You gonna tell me what that was about?"


"Sad to say it wasn't me…" He gave a nonchalant shrug before kicking off the frame, moving further into the kitchen. Leaning back on the counter, elbows braced on the surface, he nodded, "The creep tried to attack a woman… A mutant. From what I could understand, she could manipulate bone. She had taken care of him by the time I got there…" Clearing his throat, he smirked, "Invited me over for dinner. For helping her…"


"Oh?" she said, clearly intrigued. It was enough to hold her attention, eyes tracking him as he moved further into the kitchen. She swore, dragging a hand down her face as he continued. She opened her mouth to speak, only to pause as her eyes narrowed. "Wait… the stab wounds in the beer pouch? That was…?" she started. That had been made with bone. "Holy hell. What kind of Wolverine shit…?" She shook her head again.


Her eyes narrowed further as she pursed her lips. "Oh, oh, I see. You get to be the most secretly slick guy I know, getting invited over for dinner," she started, teasing as she batted her eyelashes at the word 'dinner'. A cheeky, suggestive grin curled onto her face soon after, made complete with an eyebrow wiggle. "You get to eat, and meanwhile, I'm stealing flowers and faking crocodile tears to get into the hospital room this dickwad's in. I see how it is. See if I make you breakfast anytime soon."


"That was her…" Nodding, he frowned in thought, recalling how a woman like that would've been targeted only a few years ago.


Shaking the thoughts free, he turned to look at her with a chuckle. "Don't be mad, Zuzu…" Grinning, August shook his head, straightening up, "I can make you something if you want. It just felt weird, not taking her up on her hospitality. Honestly, she wasn't my type. Not just because she was like…. Four inches shorter than me and could stab people with her bones."


Izumi gave a low whistle in response. "Damn," she commented bluntly. "That must come in handy." She rolled her eyes, snorting. "I'm not mad, I just want to fight you a little. You get food, and I'm trying not to contract a super amoeba from the hospital." She shook her head, leaning back on one hand as she fixed her gaze on August. "Really? I thought the short and stabby types were your favorite."


"Short…" With a short chirp of a laugh, August shook his head, "Yeah. She was real tiny…" Turning, he crossed to the fridge and popped it open, looking inside at the sad display, "You know there's only room for one stabby midget in my life, Zu. You want pasta?"


"Yep, a really tiny lady," Izumi agreed with a grin. She shifted, spinning on the counter as he moved to the fridge. "I would say I'm touched, but I also feel the need to defend that I'm not a midget? I can't help it that you're just a giant. You got the big boy milk growing up, and I'm not even that short," she protested, hands flinging into the air.


"...I'll never say no to pasta," she said after a long pause. "You're not forgiven yet, but mayyyyyybe I can be tempted to consider it."


"Whatever you have to tell yourself, ma'am…" Looking at her, he grinned again, before reaching into the fridge to pull out a container of takeout leftovers. Bringing these to the microwave, he glanced to Izumi again, "You drive a hell of a bargain, Zu. How can I make it up to you?"


Izumi silently flipped him the bird, rolling her eyes. She uncrossed her legs, poking him with her foot. Her feet then dangled down from the counter as she braced herself with both hands on the counter. "Hmm, I'm not sure. I don't know that there's a way that you can," she mused, gently stroking her chin with pursed lips like a bad movie detective.


As her foot nudged him, Auggie turned and caught her by the ankle, a brow raised with a small smirk, "No way at all, hm? That's problematic…"


"Nope, no way at all. It's real unfortunate," she agreed, though her eyes widened as she was caught by the ankle. "Don't. Don't," she warned, trying to pull her foot from his grasp.


With a smirk, he gave a small tug, not enough to.unseat her, but enough that it might be a concern, "Don't? Well, now… if I'm to never be forgiven, that's hardly incentive to be objective, here…"


"August," she warned, eyes still wide. "Don't. Don't stick your finger to my foot. Don't you dare pull me off." She made a noise in the back of her throat as she was nearly tugged forward. Not enough to make her move, but she was suddenly aware of how close to the edge of the counter she was. "Oi, don't pull this. You sir, are not forgiven, and you cannot extort it from me either."


"You should have negotiated…" With a devious lilt, he tugged again, "In lieu of forgiveness, I am afraid I'm left with no other options…" And another, until there was little left to hang on to.


"August," Izumi warned again, squawking as she was tugged once then twice towards the edge. She swatted at him with her other foot, trying to defend herself. She gripped the edge of the counter, determined that even if her butt left the counter, she would not touch the floor. "I might...maybe, possibly, have a way you could make it up to me."


Giving a slightly lighter tug, her let his free hand come up to snag her other foot, and trying to keep a straight face, all the while reminded of a cat trying to avoid a bath, her looked at her firmly, "I'm listening…"


Shit! Thoroughly weaponless, as far as free feet went, Izumi scowled at him. She tried to pull one free, squirming to free herself. "Alright, alright," she began, tempted to raise her hands as she talked only to be reminded why that was a terrible idea by the hands wrapped around her ankles. She took a deep breath with eyes closed, suitably resigned and dramatic for the situation at hand. Once her eyes opened, though, a shit-eating grin had cracked wide open on her face. "Tell me where you hid the thin mints, and you may be forgiven."


"Ha!" With a shake of his head, August deflected the offer, "That's never happening. Last time you ate an entire sleeve in one sitting! I'll just hold you hostage instead." He shifted, giving himself slightly more leverage opportunity, "Last chance, Zu. Do you yield?"


"August, I know they are somewhere in this apartment, so help me, and I will find them! And you make it sound like I have some sort of problem. I don't! I can stop anytime I want!" That, of course, required her to want to stop. She most certainly didn't. "No!" she protested, firmly shoving at his chest with one foot and trying to kick with the other. Her eyes narrowed at him, bracing herself for getting yanked off the counter. Oh hell no. He wasn't getting off easy. "Never," she answered, though a scheme had already begun to take shape before her eyes.


"Then you've brought this on yourself… Your senseless addiction to chocolate and mint will be your undoing!" He remarked with as grim a tone as he could manage, while fighting a grin. Moving swiftly, rather than pulling her free of the counter, August lunged, released her feet and instead, hooking her into the crook on his neck, he hefted her up over his shoulder, "What I do, I do for all mintkind…"


Without another word, he spun on his heels and marching from the room, he crossed the living room to the narrow hall on the other side and towards the door that led to the bathroom. Nudging the door open with his foot, he entered and gripping the shower door handle, tugged, reaching in with his free hand to turn on the stream.


She'd been prepared to go down. She'd been prepared to grab onto him and take him down with her, the very instant she was tugged free of the counter. Her scheming was all for naught, though, as she was hoisted up instead. Another indignant squawk left her, having been caught off guard. "August!" she warned again, fingers digging into his back. "No! My pasta, damnit!" she protested as he began to walk out of the kitchen.


"What are you doing?" she demanded, trying to squirm out of his grasp, further cementing that she might possibly be a person running cat software. She twisted around, in an attempt to see what he was doing, only to swat at his hand as he reached for the water. Static had begun to crackle over her skin again, as she contemplated cheating to get out of whatever dastardly plot he'd cooked up now. There was no way she'd be able to teleport without taking him with her, though, not when she couldn't stand up.


"Izumi…" He started, voice taking on a somber quality, "Know I take no joy in this. This is done only for your great injustice, and for the sanctity of Thin Mints, everywhere. My friend… I am sorry." With a small, sly grin, he swung her down over his shoulder and landed her in the pan, directly in the spray of the showerhead.


"Dick!" Izumi hissed. She managed to grapple a hold on him, her feet hooked around his sides. It wasn't foolproof by any means, but it didn't have to be. She just had to hold on. A grin formed on her face again, a laugh bursting from her with no explanation. Just as he tried to set her down, she clung onto him, even as she was briefly soaked before the static crawled over her skin again. Then, in an instant, she popped away, but not without taking him with her.


It felt a little like being funneled into a straw and then the inside of the straw spun around like the inside of a washing machine, and the pair of them were the dirty socks unfortunate enough to get chucked in.


She flashed back into existence in the living room, knowing August's apartment well enough to feel safe teleporting through it. The position they'd been in when they were in the shower was quite similar to the position they were in now. Now, though, the roles were switched. While her hands were still clinging like a stubborn cat, feet propping her up from his torso, she'd teleported him on his back. She pinned him there, hands moving to brace on his shoulders and knees pinning down his torso.


"I will drip water on everything you love," she warned, looking down at him, before a slow grin formed on her face.


He wasn't ready for it. He never was, and as he suddenly found himself pinned on his back in the living room, the weight of a marginally drippy young woman on him, a brow raised in surprise, before a grin broke.


"Hell of a threat, but how you gonna drip on yourself, ma'am?" He teased, drumming his fingers on the carpet.


She snorted, rolling her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I'm your favorite person. Thing is, dickhead, that I don't have to worry about dripping on myself because you already handled that for me. But for good measure…" She trailed off, reaching up with one hand, squeezing water out of her hair, a small amount dripping onto her shoulder. Then, the rest she squeezed out over August, soaking the front of his shirt.


Then she rolled off of him, still wearing that wild-eyed chaotic grin that spoke of trouble. With one last look sent his way, she scrambled to her feet, racing towards his bedroom.


"Don't… Don't you--" but before the protest could be adequately issued, water rained down on him and with a sputter of a laugh, he brushed his palm over his face to dry it. When she bolted, he pushed onto his elbows and swearing softly jammed his feet into the ground to push fully upright, "Zu! What are you up to?" He called, chasing after her.


"I'm gonna soak your pillow," Izumi informed him, cackling all the while. She slid around the corner of the narrow hallway before ducking into his room. "And who knows? Maybe I'll find those cookies while I'm at it," she added, calling from just inside the door, before moving to close it.


"No you don't!" Picking up speed, August slid a foot in the way of the door, before it could close fully, and swinging it fully open, he reached to scoop her up by the middle again, swinging her up over his shoulder once more. The distance was shorter this time, and turning to the left, he dropped her on her back on the mattress, leaning over her to pin her arms down, "You'll never find those cookies, Izumi."


"Viva la Thin Mint!" Izumi cackled, having turned around to leave the door as soon as he'd slipped his foot in. She'd nearly made it, to flop down on his bed to squeeze the rest of the water out of her hair, only to get scooped up again. Swearing viciously right up until he dropped her on the mattress, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh yeah? You wanna bet?" she asked, leaning up as far as her pinned arms would let her. "Who's to say I don't already know where they are? Who's to say I haven't eaten two sleeves and only left you half a cookie, Pretty Boy?"


Unshifting, August smirked as he shook his head, "Because you'll never be able to get them without my help. I hid them where you'll never find them… Where you'll never reach." Leaning down, he shrugged, "You've lost, Zuzu. Do you yield?"


She tilted her head, looking up at him quizzically. Then her eyes lit up with realization and her grin widened. "You absolute shit. You stuck them up high," she commented. "You do realize I can climb, right? I'll find a way." She stuck her tongue up at him. "I do not yield," she stated before signing softly, suddenly somber, "but I'd be willing to consider forgiveness for two Thin Mints." She rose two fingers on her left hand, just to make sure she made the point that she said two. Being made to eat only one was far too close to cruel and unusual punishment.


"I absolutely did. And you'll never ever be able to climb that high. I know you all too well to fall for that." She continued, and his eyes flickered to her hand as he chuckled.


"No dice, Zu!" He shook his head, grinning, now, "I have the upperhand. There's only one thing you can do now. Forgive… or perish!"


"You sure about that?" Izumi asked, head tilted once again as she looked at him. "I don't believe you. I need to see where you could've possibly put them that I'd be unable to climb up to them."


"Rude." She pursed her lips, before shrugging lightly. "I mean...you're just giving my hair more time to soak your mattress. So either way," she continued, grinning all over again, "I'm winning, and you will not be able to forget your transgressions so easily." She'd managed to curl up her legs far enough to rest her knees against August's chest, pushing against him in an attempt to give herself more leverage room.


Her knees dug into.his chest, and for a moment, he pressed down just enough to trap her beneath him entirely, before chuckling, August shook his head and releasing her, dropped onto his back beside her, "If that stubbornness didn't come in so handy for what we do, it might actually be troublesome, "Keep your forgiveness, Little brat. I'll keep my cookies…"


Izumi swore, making a noise of protest as he pressed down. She was about to try to squirm free, to make sure she genuinely couldn't get out of his hold, when he rolled off. She stuck her tongue out, blowing a raspberry at him. "You know you like it," she teased before rolling her eyes. "First you have food without me at someone else's place, then you keep your cookies from me. Your crimes against Izumi-kind just keep stacking up, Pretty Boy. I will remember this. Mark my words." She pointed a finger at him, mock seriousness in her tone. She laid there a little while longer, falling quiet only to bite her lip as she heard the shower still running.


"It grew on me…" He mused with a smile, curling his arms behind his head, "I'm sorry about the dinner without you… but I have no regrets about the cookies. You're a fiend and an addict, and I won't enable you."


As she fell silent, he tipped his head to the side, a brow quirked, "You got quiet, Zuzu. What's on your mind…?"


"Uh-huh, so you say. In any case, I don't hear any denial," she snorted. "Hey, hey. I won't argue the fiend part, but an addict? Rude. I am absolutely not an addict. I told you, I can stop whenever I want to!" She was chuckling despite herself, shaking her head as she looked up at the ceiling.


She sobered up a little. "Well, one, that the shower is still running. I was sincerely tempted to teleport you back in there for a second," she started. "But there's other things. Have you, uh, have you heard the news? About Hull?"


"If there was an intervention program for thin mints, I would enroll you immediately…" His smile broadened at her threat, "Hell, Zu… you wanna shower with me, just say the word. No need to teleport me." His tone was teasing and light, but his expression sobered as she went on, "I did, yeah. Did the world a favor if you ask me… The kid who did it. Someone should've put Hull down years ago. Hope he gets away all right."


"That's for people who have problems, Shining Armor. And I definitely don't have those kinds of problems," Izumi snorted. She barked a laugh before reaching over to shove him. "You wish, Pretty Boy." She'd propped herself up on one arm, hanging over him as she grinned down at him. Then she swallowed and sat upright. Her focus shifted towards the wall, staying there for a few moments. "Yeah, he did. Do the world a favor. And I hope he does, too," she commented. "You know, it's funny. The guy that got him? I knew him once. Been a while, but I knew him."


"I wish? You're the one bringing it up… not me." She shifted to lean over him and for a moment, August found himself fighting another laugh, but she had moved again not too long after, and with a frown, he pushed up on his elbows, "Did you? Didn't peg you for the type to hang around with assassins…" there was a slight edge of sarcasm to the statement, as he smiled, "I'm sure he'll be alright, Zu. Try not to worry…"


"Yeah, because I was gonna dunk you in there and run, not take a shower with you. You added that part all on your own," Izumi cackled, shoulders shaking. An amused snort followed soon after as she smirked at the joke. "That's the thing, though. He didn't seem the type, to get into what kind of stuff we do," she admitted as she glanced back over at him. "I mean, he was Rogue, and I'm sure there's a certain amount of it that came with the territory. But… I dunno, there's a disconnect in my head between the person I know, and the person I saw on the TV. It's just weird to think about."


She shook her head, a huff of a laugh escaping her, "That, and he didn't invite me. I mean, God, I'm a terrible shot, but come on. He was assassinating Kaiden Hull. At least take me as your cheerleader and getaway guy." She paused, fingers tapping on her knee. "Yeah...he's probably fine."


"You're just mad you didn't think of it first…" He remarked with the same teasing tip. But as she continued, he sat up, listening with attentiveness. It was odd to think that he had no experience with that sort of thing… But stranger things had happened… "People get driven to doing crazy things all the time, Izumi. Good people… Tired of being lied to and beat down." Her next statement drew a smile as he shook his head, "You're the only girl I know who gets pissed she was left out of an assassination…"


Reaching out, gingerly, he squeezed her shoulder, "He's fine. And you can chew him out for leaving you behind when you see him again."


"Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that," Izumi said dryly, rolling her eyes. She sighed, "I know. Trust me, I know. Besides, it's been a while. Maybe something changed, maybe he'd had enough. Who knows? Not me, I didn't get invited." She grinned at him, chuckling as he continued. "All I'm hearing is that you need more fun friends in your life, August."


Her smile softened into something grateful as he squeezed her shoulder. "Oh, I will. I definitely will," she assured him, before scooting to the edge of the bed to stand up. "Anyway, I'm gonna eat that pasta, and you can't stop me."


"Well, if he does show back up in your life, I've know doubt you'll give him an earful. Me? I'll be sure to befriend him… just for that comment." Grinning, he looked over at her as she announced her impending escape, "You can't resist, can you… Challenging me." Twisting, his other hand rose to her shoulder and with a smirk, he shoved her back, pinning her down again, "It's like you delight in tormenting yourself, Zu."


She threw her head back with a laugh, "Good. You gotta have some more wild people in your life to mix it up a bit." She'd been about to stand, ready to pad away to enjoy the wonders of leftover pasta. And then she'd been thrown back onto the bed with August hovering over her. "No! Damnit!" she huffed, blowing a strand of her own hair out of her face as she pouted up at him. "You shouldn't be so fun to challenge, and then maybe I'd stop," she said simply. "Oh, yeah, that's me. A real masochist."


She was thankful she had a hands free this time, as it gave her far more opportunity to make him regret trying to pin her down. She shoved a hand in his face, palm pushing his head up and away, as the other hand pushed against his chest. "You sure I'm the one getting tormented here, August? Because you seem to keep ending up with me getting you back."


Grinning, swinging away from the hand to his face, August reached up and grabbed her hands, swinging the down over her head with a laugh, "See… That's where you're mistaken, Zu. Cause it seems to me that I end up getting you on your back…"


She swore again as her hands were pinned high above her head, and her chest heaved with a sigh. "You're real pleased with yourself, aren't you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?"


Izumi laid there for a few moments, almost seeming to surrender, as she slowly relaxed. Then, in a blur of movement, she kicked herself up with both feet and twisted around to switch their positions.


"I'm generally pleased with myself, but that was pretty good wasn't--" She twisted, truncating his speech, and as she rolled he laughed, looking up at her with a small shake of his head, eyes flashing with mischief, "I mean… this works for me, too. I'm not picky."


"Yeah, it was pretty good," Izumi agreed with a laugh, having slipped her hands easily from his grasp now that his weight wasn't behind it. Straddling his torso, she rested her hands down on his shoulders. "Oh, I'm sure it does. But do you know what works for me, August?" she asked, voice dropping as she leaned just a little closer. Her relatively serious expression broke into another grin. "Pasta," she said, before swiftly rolling again, leaving him behind on the bed. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she turned and broke into a sprint towards the kitchen, laughing all the way.


A laugh burst from August, as she fled from the room and after a moment, he rolled upright. He didn't follow immediately… it was a few minutes later that he appeared in the kitchen, hands folded behind his back, "How's the pasta?"


Izumi had re-perched herself on the counter, having learned nothing from very nearly being yanked off and scooped up earlier. She looked up at August, midbite, with noodles dangling from her mouth. She'd cradled the bowl in one hand, practically shoveling the food in with the other. She blinked at him, before slurping the noodles into her mouth. There were a few more beats of silence before she swallowed and answered. "Delicious," she replied, though she had tilted her head, looking at him curiously as he approached.


"Good. I can't take credit. Picked it up from Tito's last night, but I'm glad you're enjoying it…" Stepping closer, August nodded, before, as casually as he could, he produced a green, rectangular box from behind his back, smiling faintly, "...Truce?"


"I definitely am. You made a good selection," Izumi commented before taking another bite, making an effort, though admittedly not much of one, to not look like a complete gremlin on his counter this time around. She choked on the bite in the process as he pulled the box out from behind his back. She scrambled to set her bowl down before scooting closer to the edge. She managed to swallow, coughing dying down finally. She had both hands outstretched for the box, looking at him with wide eyes. "Are you really?" she asked, just before her hands touched the box.


Nodding firmly, he set it down on the counter beside her, smile still present as a shrug rolled through his shoulders, "I suppose I'm little more than an enabler, but… Considering what it is we do for a living, I suppose it's a bit much to expect me to be all decent …" Looking up, he grinned, "Does that mean I'm forgiven?"


Izumi grinned up at him before setting to work on breaking open the box. She popped open the plastic wrapped on the inside, freeing the cookies from their constraints, and the scent of chocolate met her nose. "Definitely forgiven," she assured. "As if I could actually stay mad at you to begin with though." She snorted at the idea before popping a cookie in her mouth. Her eyes closed, pleasure blooming over her face once the taste met her tongue.


Shaking his head, August turned to lean against the counter again, crossing his arms over his chest. A familiar sense of sobriety crossed his features as his mood shifted from the playful thing it had been to a more characteristic nature, "Things are changing, Zu. The world. It's shifting again… like it did four years ago. You still sure you wanna stick with me?"


"Shifting how?" she asked. She'd noticed general things, more a gut feeling and the guiding hand of intuition than anything concrete. Then again, her intuition tended to serve her well enough. Where what she noticed was more vague and ill-defined, though, August had things pinned down to the details. He had a tendency to put into words the things she'd tucked away in the back of her head, so she was curious, to know exactly what he did.


"Yeah, I'm sure. For two reasons," she continued, once again lifting two fingers on her hand. She ticked off one finger, leaning a little forwards on the counter. "One, I have nowhere to go. I have no general plan or sense of purpose other than what we've started here. And two, even if I did? Yeah, I'd want to stay. Because you wanna know something, August?" she asked, her own expression having sobered even as she popped another cookie into her mouth.


"Just…" A small sigh escaped him, and August looked down at the floor tiles, "At least before, we knew where we stood. Mutants. We were resolutely despised… and we knew better than to try. Now? Now there's a Bill passed… gives us rights. A vote. A voice. It hasn't changed how people look at us…just made us bigger targets. I don't doubt for one second Kaiden Hull was angling for war. And now that he's dead? A martyr to his own kind? We may be looking at All Sorrows Day all over again."


As she continued, he glanced over at her, watching her tick off her reasons with curiosity, "What's that, Zu?"


Izumi nodded quietly in agreement. It had been put into words, part of why everything felt so tense. Because it was. It had been building, ever since Kaiden Hull had left RIEF to fall and become a public figure. Ever since he'd made himself the face of a mutant movement. While his death was hardly a loss, it might very well be the first shot fired. She swore under her breath as the pieces connected.


"The thing is, August, is that I'm glad I met you," she said simply. "You? You are easily top three of the best things that have happened to me. So yeah, I'm sure I want to stick around," she continued. "Whatever comes of all this?" she added, gesturing vaguely to the air around her, "We'll figure it out."


"Damn." Smiling faintly, a rare feat in his current mood, August shook his head, "I mean… I thought maybe top ten. But top three? That's… Wow."


Reaching out, he cupped a hand to her arm, nodding, "We'll figure it out. Not like I was gonna let you go anyway." He added, with a wink.


"Yeah, yeah, try not to let it go to your head," Izumi replied with an eyeroll. "And don't go telling too many people either. I've got a reputation to keep up." Despite the dismissive tone that brushed what exactly she'd said before aside, her expression remained soft as he touched her arm. She snorted, "You just want to keep me because I'm small enough to chunk into the shower."


"Don't worry… You keep me humble enough… And your secret's safe with me." He grinned brighter, giving her arm a squeeze before it dropped to the box of thin mints, pulling a cookie free, turning back around to lean against the counter, "There you go… Thinking about me and showers again. You got a troubled mind, Zu…"


"It better be," she warned, pointing a finger at him. She was smiling though, as she reached to pick up the bowl of pasta to finish it. She raised an eyebrow as he spoke. "I'm thinking about it because I've currently got hair soaking into the back of my shirt. But if I've got a troubled mind for thinking about what happened, what's that say about you, as the guy that thought of it first?" she asked, smirking all the while.


Laughing, he shook his head, "We already know about my troubled mind, Izumi. But I had no idea you were so twisted." Turning, he places a palm on either side of her folded legs, and a smirk took over his expression for a moment, "So you were thinking about it…?"


"Ah, that was your first mistake. You underestimated me and my twistedness," Izumi informed him with a cheeky grin. She raised a brow as he turned to face her. "Thinking about the fact you picked me up and then tried to chunk me in the shower, yeah. What was the plan after that, by the way? Just wait until I looked like a drowned rat?" she asked. "And also, did you turn that off? I'd hate to waste water because you're too busy asking me dumb questions," she added, teasing as she stuck her tongue out at him.


Laughing, he shook his head, "That's what you're worried about? The water being left on? Yes, Mom. I turned it off..." Straightening, he smirked, "Though if you're curious…" Without pausing, he launched forward and scooped her up with a devilish grin, "Why don't I just show you what the plan was?"


"Yeah, it is. Were you expecting something else, August?" Izumi asked pointedly, mischief glinting in her own knowing smile. She'd been finishing off the pasta when August lunged for her, earning a choking sound and another indignant squawk for his efforts. "August! No, put me down. I'm not that curious! Put me down!"


Grinning, August shrugged innocently, "I dunno… That curiosity could just… haunt you. Torment you. Drive you to madness… I'd never forgive myself if that happened on my account…"


"I appreciate the concern, I do. Really. There's no sarcasm in this at all," Izumi commented, voice absolutely dripping with said sarcasm. She gently patted August's shoulder, as if to say 'there there.' "But really, you shouldn't worry. I'm sure I'll manage somehow."


"But what sort of friend would I be… nay, what sort of man would I be, if I allowed you to suffer like this?" He paused, as though he were seriously contemplating the question, casually shifting her around in his grasp, "What a dilemma…"


"August," Izumi deadpanned, turning to look at him as well as she could in her current position, "It's just a tiny bit late to start considering what kind of man you are." She rolled her eyes. "You've got a twisted mind, remember? Feel free to just….let me suffer with the thought of never knowing. I don't know how I'll make it, it might just kill me, but I'm sure that's the route we have to take. To keep your reputation and all."


Laughing softly, August shook his head and with a small swing of his arms, he let her down to the ground, "Using the fact that I'm completely depraved against me? That's pretty messed up, Zu." Tapping her nose, he smiled, "But I am top three… So I guess I'll let it go…"


"I told you. You underestimate my own twistedness. But hey, use what works, right?" she asked with a wink. Her feet reached the ground and she firmly placed them beneath her as August rose back up again. "Uh-huh, sure. You're not gonna let go of the top three comment though, are you?" she asked, eyes narrowing, sticking her tongue out at him for the nose boop.


"Not ever, Zu. Best thing you ever said…" With a slightly more genuine smile, he gave a gentle pat to her shoulder, "Gonna go rest up. I've got a feeling things are gonna be sort of a mess after all this… And we may need to put in some overtime, the next few days…"


Izumi shook her head in amusement, glancing up at him. "Go get some sleep, Pretty Boy," she said with a soft smile. "I'm probably going to eat a sleeve of these before I follow your lead and try to get some rest, but I'll keep that in mind." There was no telling who and what they'd run into the next few days, and the dull ache of her nerves reminded her she'd already overdone it for the day. "I look forward to it. The overtime," she added after a beat. "Somebody's gotta make the hard choices after all, right?"


"Somebody does…" August agreed, giving her shoulder a squeeze. For a minute, he looked like he might say something else, but it was gone swift as it came, and smiling, he nodded, "Door's open if you need it. Otherwise, see ya in the morning, Zu."


"Don't know why I'd need the door open," she stated, feigning ignorance to the multiple times she'd snuck into his room during the night, "but I appreciate the thought. See you in the morning. Hope you sleep well, and be careful with your bones." She gave him a teasing wink, unable to resist one last jab at the incredible and slightly horrifying potential for the powers of the woman he'd met that night. Then she popped one last cookie into her mouth with a grin.

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

Hope You're Wearing Your Parachute Pants
with @Mobley Eats @Elle Joyner @DarinValore

The fasten-seatbelt sign snapped on as another rattle shuddered through the body of the plane, the fuselage bucking violently against the turbulence. For twenty minutes now, the flight attendants had passed up and down the aisles, reminding people it was entirely normal, and there was nothing to be concerned about. But as the plane was swallowed by the pitch black thunderheads outside, their repetitive reassurances became more forced, their postures tense, until eventually they were required to sit as well.

"This is your captain speaking…" A slightly muffled voice chimed over the speakers, as the lights gave an unnerving flicker, "We're heading into the thick of it now… going to descend a few thousand and see if we can't skirt around this. Sit tight, and keep calm. We appreciate your patience. Shouldn't be much longer, folks."

France had been lovely. Especially with her lovely. Exploring the beautiful streets, taking pictures, eating food, hiding away in their little old apartment flat. Every day was a new adventure, one that felt entirely lacking in the 'death and hunted race' part. And it… was a very welcome change. No scientists… No RIEF. No guns, fights, baby kidnappers. Bliss. Francis had never felt so at peace than in these months with Lucas.

But she still didn't like planes. She tried not to be too clingy, but even boarding gave her the heebie jeebies. She had never flown prior to that trip to RIEF baby-snatching-base, and it still didn't sit with her quite right. But, if she closed her eyes, snuggled into Lucas' arm, and ignored the incessant beeping of the stupid seatbelt monitor, it was pretty okay.

Up until the turbulence. The constant reassurances from the flight staff only made Francis' stomach bubble with further unease. She clung to Lucas tighter, taking in sharp breaths with every bump. On a plane, there wasn't anyone to fight but gravity. And she couldn't fucking fight gravity.

"I. Do not. Like planes." Francis muttered into Lucas' shoulder, fingers digging into his arm. Please let this just be turbulence. Only turbulence.

Lucas nuzzled the top of his Lovely's head, his breath warming her scalp as much as his palm did against the top of her own. He wasn't a fan of flights either, not entirely experienced with it aside from their initial trip to France. God, he could still recount the hours of nausea and lightheadedness that had throttled his senses; not even the majestic sight of clouds and ethereal blues of the ocean could hope to distract him from the miserable feeling.

What did help, however, was Fran's presence. Counting her freckles, whispering little comments and jokes about the stray passenger a few rows down, so on and so forth.

Either way, the flight back was merciful. He didn't feel like he was knocking at Death's door, which gave him more than enough clarity of mind to comfort Fran best he could. She was seriously too damn adorable for words. "Me neither," he chuckled before pressing a chaste kiss to her temple, "Just a few more hours. Then we'll touch down and meet the new nugget that Daisy's been baking in the oven."

Francis sighed softly, reaching for his hand to squeeze it. Over the past years she'd gotten a lot better about controlling those random bursts of strength - she could now comfortably squeeze Lucas' hand without making him jump into his diamond hide. "Gah. I can't wait to meet 'em… Levi already knocked it outta the park with Lizzie, can you imagine how cute this one's gonna be?" She nuzzled further into Lucas, trying hard to take her mind off the unsettling bumps and rumbles, the incessant flashing seatbelt sign.

"..We don't have enemies that know how to hijack planes, right?" So much for keeping her mind off of it. "I mean, alright. It's probably not that hard, but…"

Lucas squeezed her hand back just as tightly, thumb stroking her skin soothingly. "Honestly? Nah, can't imagine at all. Levi's a--reformed--man ho, but he's got a knack for cranking out damn beautiful kids," he chuckled. Crudely put, but the warmth behind his words were impossible to miss. He loved every moment with Fran in Paris, but he also missed his big brother like crazy. And Daisy. And Lizzie…

Okay--he missed everyone. Deeply.

However, Lucas pulled from his musings and quirked an eyebrow at his Lovely, the mirth clear in his eyes. "Babe… You ain't got nothing to worry about," he said, completely unaware of the "ain't" that slipped into his vocabulary, "This flight'll blow over quick. Even quicker if you take a nap or watch a movie." Another chaste kiss, but this time against her cheek. "Everything's fine. I promise."

"I'm so, so sorry to interrupt!" A voice chimed from across the aisle, as a young, vaguely androgynous young girl leaned a little closer towards the couple, her features wrought with a tense uneasiness, as her fingernails dug into the charcoal grey of the chair arm, "...D-do you two… You don't happen to have any… like… gum or anything? I just… I'm so nervous, and I'm afraid I'm gonna yack, and God… I just… I promised my mom I would be okay, on my own and if I get off the plane smelling like 'you know what' I'm gonna be so embarrassed."

Francis chuckled softly at Lucas's words, shaking her head as the nerves began to disperse. He always made her calm. "You promise?" She teased, smirking up at him. "You suure?" Truthfully, she couldn't wait to see the rest of her family… and a nap against Lucas was definitely possible. Francis was about to snuggle into him when a voice piped up to their side.

Again, her gut twisted with worry, but she forced it down. The woman seemed nice enough. Forcing an apologetic smile, Francis shook her head. "Uh, I don't think so, dear, I'm sorry."

"Oi," Lucas teased, his smile widening the more Fran's did, "Don't go doubting me, Lovely. I don't joke about my promises… Hm?" But then his attention was snagged onto a third voice, this one skittish and foreign. Some sympathy nagged at his gut--jeez, poor lady barely gave herself enough time to breathe!

Perking up with a bright smile, he instantly retracted two packs of gum from his pockets. "No worries, madam yack! I've got you! Uhhh, you've got a craving for Mango Tropicana or Fresh Mint?" Yes, he carried gum on him--at all times. A fresh mouth was a happy mouth--that got to cover Fran in kisses. Sue him.

"OH! God, Mint. Definitely mint! You're a lifesaver, man." Grinning, the girl leaned over to take the pack, dropping back into her seat again and popping two sticks into her mouth rapidly. Another jolt rocked the plane, before all seemed to mellow. Roughly twenty seconds later, the seatbelt sign blinked off, "...Hell, man. This turbulence is crap, right? Oh, geez, sorry. God. I'm probably super annoying. I just… when I'm nervous, I talk, you know? And you two are so damn cute, and I just kinda figured you wouldn't like… flip me off for askin', but I can totally shut up if uh… if that's… yeah. I'll just shut up."

Francis' brow furrowed. She was… chatty. But it was nerve wracking, to be on a plane this bumpy, and it was hard for Francis to remember that the world wasn't always out to get her. Letting out a soft sigh, she swept a stray lock of blonde behind her ear, glad that Lucas at least had enough social politeness for the both of them.

"It's alright, hun. And, uh, thanks? I mean, we're just naturally cute, ya know." Fran grinned at Lucas rolling her eyes playfully. "I'm a bit nervous too. He can tell ya, I get all crabby. Better be to talkative, I say."

Lucas had to bite back a wide grin when the woman referred him as "man". It wasn't of any significance from her perspective, he assumed, but it still managed to fill him to the brim with joy and accomplishment. He'd been doing his best to find himself over the years, so it was a damn relief to see that some of his efforts were paying off. "No prob," he chuckled, watching the woman babble with a large dose of amusement. "And yeah, we're pretty cute. She's cuter though, especially when she's all crabby. God--I could go all day soaking in that rage…" A dreamy sigh, before he blinked back to reality.

"Hey… Come on, none of that shiz. If you gotta talk to keep the nerves at bay, chit chat it up! No one's gonna judge you for feeling jumpy; the turbulence really is hell right now," he said.

"Oh, thank you! That's a relief. Damn. Most people, they'd be like… rollin' their eyes at me. I just… wasn't even supposed to be on this flight, but my dad got sick back home, and I had to fly out real fast. Mom wanted me to take a Red Eye, but I watched this really creepy movie once, with uh… what's his face… Gilligan Murphy or something? Just kinda freaks me out to think… Anyhow… I'm Ray. Rayna."

Francis nudged Lucas as he tumbled off into a tangent. The stranger really didn't need to hear about her anger issues this early on. Her features were tugged into a small sympathetic frown at Rayna's story. "Sorry to hear about your dad," She said softly. "I'm Francis… this is Lucas. We're heading home because our good friends are having their second child." Her stomach fluttered excitedly at the thought. And god, she missed pinching Lizzie's cheeks. Would they even be fat and adorable anymore? Eh, didn't matter. Fran would pinch them anyway.

"Ah… well, I think you're save from any horror movie Red Eyes here… just as long as the turbulence doesn't end up…" Francis bit her tongue, and waved her hand dismissively. "Moral of the story is, we'll be fine."

A man sporting a tight buzz began to make his way down the aisle toward the rear of the plane. When he approached the three of them, he smiled sheepishly and spoke politely, "Excuse me. Sorry to walk through your conversation. Just need to use the restroom."

"Yeah, same here about your dad, Rayna," Lucas said, his smile wavering somewhat with bittersweet sympathy. "Dads are good to have, so I'm really hoping beyond all shiz that things get better in that department." However, he quirked an eyebrow when some… buzzcut dude waltzed up to them, talking about using the restroom. "Uh… Yeah, man. No problem?" The last of his words lilted with questioning, but decided not to expand on anything outside of his business.

"We're not really close, my dad and I… but I figured if he's sick enough my mom called, I should probably… you know." Frowning, Rayna looked up as the man excused himself, breezing pass, "Guess he really had to go…" A smile twitched back to her lips and she looked over at the pair, more fully, "So where you comin' from?"

Fran's brow furrowed as the man passed. She gave him a long, interrogative stare, even as he passed. So many years of suspicion and general distrust of everyone had lead to some unhealthy habits, but once the man was out of sight, Fran exhaled and settled back against her seat and Lucas, returning her attention to Rayna.

"I'm sure it'll be alright." Francis assured, giving Rayna a warm smile as her posture relaxed with a small smile. "We were.. Uh… honeymooning. In Paris." She shot Lucas a smirk. They weren't technically married yet, but as far as Francis was concerned, they might as well be. Any vacation with Lucas was a honeymoon to her. "What about you?"

"Me? Studying. I'm an art student, and part of the elective is a month abroad in a cultural epicenter." Smiling back, Rayna shrugged, "Not sure I'll be able to continue. Depends on my dad, I guess. So… You two just got hitched, huh? Congratulations, man. That's real sweet." Her expression shifted, almost dreamily, "I hope my boyfriend and I are that lucky, someday."

The door to the lavatory opened and out walked the man with a buzz. He nodded as he washed his hands over his pants apparently satisfied with his appearance. As he made his way back through the aisle, a young woman in jeans and Metallica t-shirt squeezed by him, "Excuse me," she spoke as she smiled sheepishly. Closing the door behind her, she stepped into the restroom.

"...Was there something, like, rancid in that lasagna they passed out for lunch?" Lucas muttered to himself as he watched yet another squeeze by into the restroom. Seriously, again, it was none of his business but now he was growing a little suspicious; nowhere near the level of distrust radiating from Fran, but to a certain degree nonetheless. Shooting the woman one last look, he forced himself to focus on the conversation again, features softening in sympathy. "Well, no matter what happens, I'll be hoping for the best, Rayna."

However, his mood brightened a bit at the mention of a honeymoon and he beamed proudly. "Eh--not yet, technically, but I'm spending the rest of my life with this perfect angel, so~." Grinning playfully, he pressed an overexaggerated and loud kiss to Fran's cheek; he knew she wouldn't mind such an action in private, but doing so around strangers was all harmless fun for him. "Calling us Mr. and Mrs. Krestlauv doesn't hurt either." He winked at Fran while maintaining a casual facade. Heh--felt good to be an ass with no filter.

Francis drowned out the rest of Rayna's words to follow the path of the man on the way back from the bathroom and the woman squeezing past him. Could be a meeting place, drop off spot, bomb location… Her hands drummed against the arm of the chair, and she only came back to reality at the horrifyingly loud smooch Lucas pressed to her cheek.

"Lucas," She whispered angrily, even though she couldn't help the blush that seeped into her features quicker than anything else. Last names! To a total stranger who knew exactly where they were heading! Fuck. Still. The sound of Mr. and Mrs. Krestlauv was like music to her ears, even though she squirmed slightly in her seat with embarrassment. "Uh, yeah, haha." She shot him a glare, hiding it from Rayna's view before pressing a much sweeter, softer kiss to his jawline. "We can't wait till it's official."

"Well, hell. That's just adorable. You two." There was a warmth to the words, but as her gaze followed the woman passing them towards the restroom, an oddly hollow nature crest across her gaze, "Like honest to God movie characters. Nobody can get between that, right?"

Looking back at them, she smiled, "Just precious, really."

Another man approached, his body language was nervous. Approaching the lavatory door, he tested it and then cursed aloud, "Bloody hell," he spun around and smirked, "How is it every time I gotta piss on an airplane some sod is already occupying the loo?"

The door opened a breath later and the young woman stepped out. The man nodded toward her and his demeanor changed, "Hey, miss," he said politely before squeezing into the lavatory only after taking a lingering look at her as she walked away.

A few minutes later, he exited. With a mischievous smirk plastered on his face, he passed by the conversing trio pausing only long enough to make a comment. Fanning his nose, he chuckled, "I'd give the loo a minute or ten," he looked at Rayna, "Musta been something I ate."

Lucas's nose crinkled with the widening of his smile, practically soaking in the annoyance and embarrassment radiating from Fran. Ah, it was too easy--and never failed to be cute as all hell. But, for his Lovely's sake, he would pull back on the reigns a bit and clamp his mouth shut, accepting the jaw kiss jovially. This wasn't such a bad plane ride after all.

Well, until Rayna started speaking again. Did… Was it just him or did her behavior experience a lapse or something? Where did the anxiety over her father go? All the vomiting concerns? That empty mist coating her eyes in turn coated his innards with frost. No… body…? Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking A to the oblivion power. Gulping, Lucas slapped on the most believable grin he could muster and just cuddled into Fran further, his fingers tracing shapes into her palm. It was always something they'd done to draw comfort from one another.

Well, that, and he wanted to just ever so casually write the word "bad" into her skin. Nothing was sitting right. First Rayna and now some random dude jesting with them about his exploding intestines? No. Nope. Nu uh. "Yep, that's right," he said casually while shooting Rayna a grin, "Absolutely no one." He then shot the British man an incredulous quirk of the eyebrow. "That sucks man… Keep away from airplane food, am I right?"

The ice that traveled down her bones at Rayna's wonderful little comment was something Francis hadn't felt in a long time. Not since their romantic honeymoon had begun, not since the last fights with Rogue… stupidly, she'd thought she might never have to feel it again. The smile of her lips twitched, and she would have lunged at Rayna right then and there if not for the words traced into the palm of her hand.

Yeah, no shit. Coulda told you that, she wanted to snap, but it was the grounding act she needed. Taking a deep breath, she laughed softly at the new man and his restroom comments, committing each face to memory, because she wasn't going to forget it when the time came to pummel them into the ground. Something was in the restroom…

"Oof. Well, guess I'll have to brave the battlefield… think the food musta gotten to me too." Fran said, feigning a polite laugh as she untangled herself from Lucas and stood.

At the man's passing comment, Rayna was no longer looking at Francis and Lucas, but was, instead, studying the watch on her wrist, her eyes focused on it with a nearly static concentration. For a moment, just a moment, it was almost as if she'd forgotten she was in the middle of small talk with the couple… then rather swiftly, as Francis stood, Rayna's eyes moved up to hers, and the girl shook her head.

"...Oh. I don't think you wanna go in there." Her eyes shuffled to Lucas, and her expression ran cold, "I always wondered what it was he saw in you… Why he was so damn obsessed. And now that I'm seeing it for myself… I really don't get it." Giving him a once over, she tapped the face of the watch, "...Won't matter, though, in a minute."

The polite smile vanished from Fran's lips, the easy warmth in her eyes gone and replaced by a fire, ignited despite the ice in her bones. The moment Rayna's gaze fell on Lucas, an anger swept over Francis like no other. One she hadn't felt in a long time, since Rogue was still kicking. She forgot her fear, letting adrenaline course through her body. They hadn't come this far to let that sick bastard stomp on everything again. Stomp on her lovely all over again. She would never let him hurt Lucas. Never.

Still standing, she crossed the miniscule distance between isles and grabbed Rayna by the neck, lifting her out of her seat with one hand. "Don't ever speak to him like that. Don't look at him again." She snarled. "What the fuck did you do."

Rayna's words crashed over Lucas like a wave of ice water plucked from the depths of Antarctica. Every joint within his body locked into place, every fiber of muscle froze over with frost, and his jaw, trembling and weak, fell slack with ground-shaking shock. The oxygen around him evaporated into thin air. Into oblivion. Taunted his flattened lungs and coiled tight diaphragm like a merciless prison warden. He… He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe--

Lucas slunk into his seat, not a single ounce of his surroundings registering. What was he hearing? What could he taste? Smell or hear? Was he underwater? It felt like it. That was all he could register while suspended under in a bottomless pit of scalding frigid ocean water--

No.

No, no, no.

She didn't say that. She didn't. No she didn't. Never. Never, ever, ever--he was supposed to never find him again. He wasn't supposed to see him. HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO SEE HIM--

Lucas just remained where he was. Shaking violently. Wide eyes glued to his lap.

Even as her hands closed around Rayna's neck, the young woman's expression remained unfalteringly amused, and laughter bubbled weakly from her lips, while screams and sounds of disruption and shock rose from those seated nearby.

"It's too late." She grinned, eyes moving up to Francis's face, "The things we do for love, hm?"

It was so hard to resist the urge to just throttle the fucking life out of this psycho. But the sudden eruption of terror around her brought Francis to her senses, and with a growl she shoved Rayna back into her chair. She glanced at Lucas; at his terror stricken expression, frozen posture. Francis wanted nothing more than to hold him tight and promise she would keep him safe, but look how quickly that had fallen to shit.

It was not too late. It was not too late. Francis turned and dashed towards the bathroom, shoving past whoever she needed to shove past.

Wheezes scraped and crackled against his lungs like sandpaper. The screams filtered into his pounding skull, the sudden spike of terror and noise all around, blurring his perception of the world more and more… F-fuck. Oh fuck. Was Lucas having a panic attack? After all this time? He hadn't felt this submerged in dread since…

He angrily shook off the thought. Even with the thick stormcloud rolling through his cranium and threatening to shatter it from the overwhelming pressure, needle pinprick of light seeped through the mess. Like a guide. He latched onto that feeling and with bated, stuttering breath, forced himself to move…

To Rayna's side.

The moment Fran released the woman, Lucas was hovering over her. At first, his body refused to bring himself within feet of her, before his hands curled into fists and his jaw clenched so tightly that a dull pain raced to his temples. Rayna… She knew of Nobody. Was affiliated with him. Someway. Somehow. And judging by the absolutely ugly and jealous sting behind her words… it was in a way that he understood on a spiritually broken level. Thus, he cleared the rest of the distance and seized Rayna by the forearms, face inches away from hers.

"Let us help you," he rushed out. Brittle. Desperate. Shaky. A dry and painful swallow. It took a new breed of willpower to tune out the discord breaking out around them. "I know what you're thinking, alright? But I'm telling you right fucking now, that it's wrong! This is not what you want, Rayna!" His eyes burned. "I-it's not too late!"

Trying to pull away as Lucas reached out, Rayna hissed. Voices continued to raise, calls for a marshall, and there was movement, now… panic and fear radiating through the cabin, "Don't tell me what I want! You don't know me and you don't know a damn thing about me. I'm not some scared little girl, in over my head. I volunteered for this… Begged him to let me do it. This? This is an honor… and a fickle little prick like you isn't gonna break me down!"

Francis ran. She ran like hell. Ran through, plowed through any spooked passenger and ducked over the refreshments cart. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute - fuck, she shouldn't have left Lucas alone, fuck, they never should have gone on this plane, fuck they never should have left Levi and Lizzie and Daisy and --

She crashed into the bathroom door, slamming into it with her shoulder full force. She scrambled frantically. Searching for something. Anything. She even looked down the godforsaken toilet and ripped open the panel under the sink and then the goddamn ceiling panel…

There it was. Ticking. Blinking red. Threatening to end it all.

Two minutes left on the clock. On the bomb.

Fran stumbled back. She did not know how to disable a bomb. Who the fuck did? Somebody on the ground, maybe. A friend back home. A friend she'd never get to see again if this thing blew. All the people on this plane - innocent people… Lucas. Lucas. Lucas.

"LUCAS!" Fran shouted. It wasn't very easy to open up a fucking window and chuck it out. What kind of bomb even was it? Could she crush it? Destroy it? Touch it, even? What could they do? What could they even do?

Pure disappointment and agonizing sympathy rippled through Lucas like a nuclear detonation. The blind faith, the unshakable loyalty, the violent protests… It was like staring into a mirror and a time machine all at once. Lillian was Rayna. Rayna was Lillian. Rayna and Lillian were two out of hundreds--no, thousands of girls resting under Nobody's toxic thumb. It physically ripped Lucas's heart in two…

He had to save this woman. He absolutely had to--

Then Fran screamed. Yelled out his name.

And his body took off like a bullet, everything else completely forgotten. He nearly rammed himself into everything blocking his way, hands slamming to a stop on the door frame as he huffed. Wide eyes took in the horror slowly ebbing into Fran's features and the sight in turn twisted his gut into knots. "I'm here, Fran! I'm here! It's okay, what… Wha…"

Then he saw it. His mind failed to register reality, until the next five seconds of adrenaline pumping through his veins managed to flatten his lungs. "Oh fuck… H-holy fuck…" He had no goddamn clue how to disarm a bomb or how to get rid of it on a plane and judging by Fran's reaction… "Fuck." Running a hand through his hair in bubbling frustration and dread, Lucas turned back to the panicking crowd, eyes landing on Rayna once more. "Rayna! Rayna, please!" he yelled. "Look at what you're fucking doing! You're willing to endanger all of us? This entire plane full of innocent lives--for one life that doesn't fucking give a shit about you?! About no one else but himself?!"

He glanced back up at the bomb, his heart threatening to beat so hard that his ribs would shatter. Then his vision snapped to Fran… Please no. Not her. Anything but his Lovely. Not to her. Lucas grit his teeth and shot Rayna a pleading gaze so deep and piercing that his eyes stung. "Rayna!"

"One life?" A dry laugh escaped, a brow quirked high, "You think this is about Nobody? About you? About what you did to him? Oh, honey. This… this is so much more. They came to Nobody because of you, yeah. But this is about what you people are. You run around in the name of justice and self preservation, but you forget all the people you trampled along the way. The countless people you endangered and killed for your precious team of freaks!" Her eyes moved, scanning upwards as a smile crept over her features, "Even if I helped you… even if I told you how to stop it, they'll never back down. They will hunt you to the grave…"

There was a cry stuck in Francis' throat. Lodged. It was probably the only thing keeping her heart from jumping out of her mouth. How could this have happened? How could this have slipped by them? They were going home. Going back home from years of… peace. She'd grown soft. She'd been naive to think nothing was chasing them.

Francis wanted to grow old with him. More than anything. Learn how to carve from Levi, spin Eliza round in circles and hoist her into the air. Start a goddamn band with Nick and Lucas and play video games with Finn and… she wanted to fight. But there was nothing to fight. She wanted to live.

She wasn't crying, but it would be clear to Lucas that she was on the verge of it. Rayna wasn't going to save them. Not with a minute left on the clock. Francis reached for Lucas' hand, squeezing it tightly. For the last time?

The realization struck Lucas like a frigid bolt of lightning, racing down his spine, and threatening to freeze his nerves over like the expanse of a frozen tundra. Rayna was long gone; her ability to think for herself and preserve what little individualism she had left had vanished like a plume of vapor. Hopeless. Agonizingly hopeless…

And yet, his voice sprang forth. Angrily so. "Fine! Then take cover! We're killers, huh?! Think what you want, but I'm not letting you die like this!" He turned to Fran, instantly reciprocating her grip before pulling her into him entirely. Backing away from the bomb. As far as they could possibly go with seconds left on the clock.

With a shaky breath, his body hardened into diamond, starting from his feet and crawling up rapidly, and curled around Fran like a protective cocoon.

It hit him like a freight train.

Death. Dying. They were going to… Lucas's forehead met Fran's, starting deeply into her eyes and on the verge of shedding tears of his own. Words failed to come. All he could do was smile sadly, flakes of diamond coating the curves of his jaw. His trembling lips. I love you...

3… 2… 1…

Time ticked down, the last few seconds trickling away on the exposed device. Lucas shifted, steeling himself for the impact… but the impact never came. Not in the context he seemed to expect. Instead, a shrill, piercing note escaped the bomb from where it sat, fixed to the inner workings of the plane's body. A shrieking whistle… a click…

And a weighted, heavy hum, as a force ,of blue light burst from the body of the mechanics, a ripple that shuddered through the hull of the fuselage. The plane gave a jolt, and suddenly, with a whine, the lights flickered out and the plane gave a sharp lurch downwards.

Rayna smirked from her seat, tapping her watch with a satisfied expression, "Did you think it'd be that easy?" She asked, and the smirk spilled into a grin, "...Hold on tight."

Francis clung to Lucas like her life depended on it. It did. This was it. The last time she would curl up in his embrace. She didn't want it to end here. They had so much more to do, so much more time to spend. She couldn't help but think about how much this would hurt their friends. Little Eliza. How could she let this happen? How could she let them be hurt? Francis never meant too. Never, ever. And now…

The metallic whine snapped her attention upwards. The jolt, the lurch… she didn't know how much farther her heart could drop, but it seemed to reach new lengths. With the hand that she'd intertwined in Lucas', she tugged him back to their seats. Everything felt like a blur. To buckle in and ride down, down to their deaths.

Francis' eyes squeezed shut, trying to stop more tears from falling out. Shaking hands attempted to buckle the seat belt. "I love you too," She whispered shakily, no longer able to help the salty tears that slid down her cheeks. There was so much more she wanted to say. To thank him for the best years of her life. If she could write something to leave behind, she would. But she couldn't. They couldn't. They'd be gone… gone in an instant, a fiery collision. Gone. Just gone.

Lucas was fully prepared to take a hailstorm of fire and steaming shrapnel to the back, to feel his diamond hide snap and crack under the monstrous pressure of a bomb detonation; thus, when all that happened was the mysterious hum of energy and nosedive of the plan, he nearly lost grip of his own soul. With a shaky gasp, he scrambled after Fran and frantically helped her fasten her belt before assuming the same position as before, kneeling before her and preparing himself to soak up as much of the crash landing as possible.

He was scared. Terrified. Each and every nanometer of his being screamed with horror--for Fran. For his friends and family. If they didn't survive… Lucas couldn't bring himself to envision the heartbreak or else risky breaking his own into a million pieces.

He cupped Fran's cheek with his free hand, a single thumb wiping weakly at the salty trails rolling down her freckled face. God, those freckles. Those eyes. That smile that produced the most angelic damn laugh in history. All of it holding the best damn soul he had the highest of luck meeting… If this was it, he wanted--no--needed the image of Fran's face to be the absolute last thing in his eyes.

The plane sank lower and lower, dipping at a forty-five degree angle. Throughout the cabin, screams and sobs and frantic pleas rose to a near deafening volume… the squeal of momentum building as they rocketed towards the world below. Cloud gave way and deep navy met them on the other side as the plane plummeted towards the channel… faster. Faster.

Faster...

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

Somewhere beyond the sea...
with @Mobley Eats and @Elle Joyner

Plummeting. Closer and closer… she could see the water now. Soon, they would impact and with a sickening, shattering crash, they would split apart, ripped to shreds… thrown asunder within the rocky waters of the English channel… If they survived the crash, water would fill their lungs… sucking away the last vestiges of air that remained…

There were no options. No recourse to stop their mad descent towards the waves. She'd done it. She'd succeeded. Would he be proud of her? Finally? Would he think highly of her… Would he miss her? It didn't matter. He'd know the depths she was willing to go. He would know what she was willing to do for him...and that was all that mattered.

That was all she'd ever---

A sudden jolt smacked hard into the plane, and with a lurch, it veered sharply to the left.

"What??" Sitting up straight, Rayna's eyes narrowed, as a welling pit formed in her stomach. They were leveling off… not a random thermal current… they were moving. Shifting. Deliberately altering course. But that was impossible…

The feeling was comparable to a roller coaster. The same gut wrenching panic, instinctual, but none of the perceived fun. Francis couldn't say she liked feeling like she was going to die even when it was in the comfort of a braced roller coaster ride, but… the thought occurred to her now, amidst all the chaos, that if she were to live through this, she would never go on a roller coaster again.

If. If they lived. For a few moments, she was sure they wouldn't. The speed at which they fell increased, with each second her gut seeming to rise further into her throat. It was sort of impossible to try and control her strength now, and she could only hope Lucas had enough willpower to leave his diamond skin on before she absolutely crushed his hand. Tears squeezed out from her clenched shut eyes, and she only peeled them open to look at him, take him in, breathe in his scent and commit him to memory, as if… she was going to ever forget.

Suddenly, that feeling stopped. Suddenly they weren't… falling. They were still, and then, moving, but not downwards. Not to their death. Righted? How? How could it be?

Francis inhaled shakily, a wispy sob accompanying the shallow breath. She looked up at Lucas, tears staining her cheeks, a glint of hopefulness entering her eyes. Could it be?

It couldn't have been. Lucas was certain that nothing short of a miracle could stop their descent to a watery death. And yet, even as his diamond form curled around Fran more and more by the heart pounding second, even as hairline cracks traveled up his arm from her vice grip, even as flashes and images of their life together bombarded his existence far more violently than the fall itself… the chaos leveled out. The plane leveled out.

Still refusing to let Fran go, he also cracked his eyes open, delivering the same shock and question through his gaze. "We…? A-are we?" Were they dead? Was is instant? No… No, no, that couldn't have been it. Not by a longshot. They were alive; living and breathing so rapidly that he just knew both of their lungs would be sore for days.

So what in the hell happened?

"No!" Hands smacking the back of the chair in front of her, Rayna growled out in anger, "No, no, no! This isn't…" Rising, her feet moving swiftly, she dashed for the bathroom where the bomb had been placed, slamming the door behind her.

Even after the plane was level and the descent no longer promised their demise, Fran still clung to Lucas tightly, grip near lethal as she forced her eyes open, forced herself to take stock, and to count her blessings. Alive, but not safe yet. Not yet. Not while that little bitch was still squeaking about her foiled plans.

"I know… we've been doing a whole lot of…. working on… compassion." Fran growled, tears still stinging her eyes even as she rose up, hand entangled in Lucas' as she pulled him forth, after Rayna. "But I am sick… of having my emotions…" She reached the door, teeth bared in a blur of fury, foot raised to plow through the measly plastic door that would crumble under her wrath, "TOYED WITH!"

Lucas nearly yelped when he was dragged along by an undoubtedly--righteously--furious Fran. This wasn't his first time witnessing the full height of her emotions and he knew from experience to never engage nor interrupt it. Thus, he merely let himself stumble along, unsure if he wanted to wince or bask in the fluttering of his stomach when she all but kicked the door in like the snapping of a toothpick. "Just remember no killing!" he rushed out, honestly unsure of how in the hell he was able to squeeze in a joke when he was certain that Death was knocking at his door mere moments ago.

As the door caved inward, the frame cracking beneath the brunt of Fran's kick, Rayna nearly toppled back, eyes widening slightly, as she pressed against the wall of the facility. Her gaze was wild, like a feral animal, "Well?? Do it, then! Do it, and prove him right!"

Despite every bone in Fran's body desperate to grab Rayna hurtle her out of the plane, it wasn't going to be as gratifying if she was cowering only now like a scared baby. What a pathetic, cowardly, motherfucker. Though rage burned in her eyes, a fire kindled by everything that had just occurred, Fran had grown. Her temper had not evaporated, nor would it ever, but she had a slightly better grip on herself. Enough to hear Lucas behind her, and know that killing this bitch wouldn't grant her any relief.

"I'm a fighter. Not a killer." Fran muttered lowly, boring into Rayna's eyes as she reeled her fist back and delivered a harsh uppercut to the girl's chin. One fully fueled punch was enough to send someone's head spinning. Fran thought it'd be enough to put her down for long enough.

Heaving, she turned back to Lucas, gaze softening the moment she set her gaze on him. Her rock. Francis' posture slackened as she took a fragile step towards him and crashed against him once more, arms wrapping tightly around him. She wasn't letting go for a long time.

It felt as if a grown man's fist had a vice grip around Lucas's heart. Witnessing Rayna devolve so quickly, so drastically from this woman babbling about her father to a cornered animal in the restroom was jarring. What did that fucker do to you…

He didn't even want to run the theories through his head. It'd do nothing but stir nausea in his gut.

Lucas almost made a move--though he had no freaking clue what it was going to be--only to fall still as Fran knocked Rayna unconscious with a clean uppercut. He visibly winced. He didn't want to,and yet he did. And only because he couldn't help but envision one of many girls he had left behind in that hell hole, taking a whopping punch to the chin, on their knees, crumbling before their customers, a white powder and tears streaking their cheeks… He shook it off.

And Fran's presence was of top priority once more. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, face buried into her hair as he took a moment to catch his breath. This was reality. She was alive. They both were. But he had a sinking paranoia that safety was far beyond their grasp and that it wasn't coming to then anytime soon. "The pilot," he said, voice shaky, "What about the pilots? Are we still…?" He peered out the window, only now realizing how… oddly the plane was moving. It was far from a violent descent and he could tell that the landing would be survivable; however, navigation almost felt… manual. Foreign. As if something was carrying the plane.

"Uh… babe? Do we know Superman's cousin o-or?"

Rayna went down without a fight, crumbling to the floor of the bathroom mere seconds before the plane scraped roughly against the ground. It was hardly a smooth landing, but it wasn't a crash, and as the frantic panicked voices of the fuselage turned into those of shock and confusion, a sudden burst of energy erupted around them like a camera flash, but exponentially brighter and louder.

"That was frickin' incredible!" A voice shouted from the cabin, a young woman's followed by a lower voice, deep and gravelly with annoyance.

"...It was showboating, Mer… All you had to do was straighten her out."

"You're kidding, right?? That was amazing and you know it. Just jealous, is all. Anyway… Let's find 'em, yeah? Get 'em safe."

"Ladies and Gentlemen… please don't panic. We have no intentions of harming you. We're looking for two passengers. They're in grave--"

"YO! Francis? Lucas? You here??" The girl interrupted, as her partner heaved a heavy sigh.

They were alive. Alive. On the ground and standing on two feet and in his arms. Francis took a moment to savor it, to savor the feeling and remind herself how grateful she was, and to thank whoever had been watching over them at that very moment.

"No… but we've got other friends." Fran murmured, pulling away as she rubbed at her eyes and spared a glimpse to Rayna's limp form. She ignored the guilt bubbling up in her gut to glance around her at the sudden emergence of voices. "And company." Francis was getting tired of being angry. She wanted to be home, with Lucas, with her family. She wanted to melt into the floor and not have anyone bother her for a while.

Instead, the panic tightening at her heart made her blood boil once more, and she stomped towards the people shouting out to them. The bystanders who suddenly knew their names. If they wanted a fight, they were going to get it.

"What the hell do you want?" Francis hissed, staring the pair down with tired but infuriated eyes.

There was seriously… too much happening at one time here. First, they survived what was surely their last seconds on Earth. Then, the plane leveled out. Followed by Rayna take a whopping punch straight into snoozesville. And now… two people were calling for them. Knew their names.

That was never a good sign.

Swallowing back the lingering shock, Lucas trailed after Fran, not even in the mood to try and calm her down; besides, angry Fran was always a sight to enjoy and he wasn't exactly pouncing on the idea of trusting anyone. Placing even an inkling of faith in Rayna turned out negative, so Lucas was learning from past mistakes. Instead, he folded his arms and skimmed over the newcomers from top to bottom, gaze indifferent. "And mind explaining how in the hell you guys know us? Cuz I'm pretty sure we don't know you."

"We have mutual friends…" The man stated plainly, "From your Rogue days. They found out you were the next target and sent us to intercept…"

"Good thing, too. Y'all were almost pancakes! Yikes…" Shaking her head, the girl smiled, "I'm Samera and this stick in the mud is Atticus."

"Probably better we have this conversation somewhere safer…?" Atticus added, grimly.

"Ha. Ha ha ha. Right." Fran hissed, taking a firm step back. "Well now that we know each other's names, there shouldn't be any problem with us joining your goddamn tea party!" How stupid did these people think they were? No way. No. Way.

"We're not having any conversation. Me and Lucas are leaving and if you fucking try and follow us I'll knock your asses back into the air." She snarled, tugging at Lucas' hand. "Come on. Let's go."

Atticus and Samera… Huh. Okay. Those names definitely didn't ring a bell--at all. Even with their supposed reassurance of being mutual friends with Rogue members, their responses were far too vague for Lucas's shaken taste… But he still wanted answers. Hell, needed them. So far, he wanted something about today to feel grounded and believable, anything to help settle the nerves clawing at his heart. Anything to smother the panic and insecurities of a stupid little girl out of existence…

"Err, b-babe? Baby, hold up!" Digging his heels into the floor to gain traction (god, his Lovely was so damn strong), he looked at the pair of newcomers. "As understandable as her rage is at the moment and yeah, trust me when I say I don't trust you guys, but still…" He shoved his free hand into his pocket, brow furrowed and lips pursed in thought. "I don't know if I can live in peace knowing that we possibly overlooked a chance to learn more about… this craziness." And Nobody's return. If he could figure out anything before something even worse happened… He just couldn't pass that up. He knew what that man was capable of. Of the horrors he subjected so many innocent young girls to. "Then maybe I'm down to listen. Just… like she said," he nodded towards Fran, "Try anything wonky and you'll be flying way better than this hunk of metal could pull off."

"You wouldn't make it ten steps out of the plane…" Atticus warned, his expression barely shifting, "These people who are after you? They mean business, and you aren't the only ones. The Gunners, Ramsden, Fuller. Hell… what they did to the Hallows cabin… nobody should have that authority, but somehow, they do."

"Point is… it's bad, but you're not alone. If you let us, we can take you somewhere safe. Somewhere that even they can't get to you…" Samera concluded with a shrug, "But we've gotta move fast before the window closes…"

Skidding to a halt, Francis ground her teeth together, shooting Lucas a glare that dissipated nearly as quickly as it came. She couldn't be mad at him, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, he had a point. Maybe these people had answers. Or, maybe, these were the very enemies they were running from…

Her expression morphed into one of surprise as surnames were rattled off. Hallows… Fuller… Gunner? No… no! Horror gripping her features, she stepped closer to the pair, though her hand was still fiercely entangled in Lucas'. "What happened to them?" She demanded, voice rising an octave. Were they okay? Oh god… what if they weren't okay? "Why… why should we trust you?"

"F-fuck…" The whisper escaped Lucas before he could even think to smother it. The pit of his stomach plummeted far faster than the plan ever could, so much so that he feared the gravity would drag him down to his knees. Of all the names for them to mention… Shakily, he swallowed and tried to settle down his nerves. For Fran. He was her rock. He had to be her rock. "I-if you guys tell us this is all some… sick, twisted joke right now, then I won't hold it against you." A pathetic attempt at trying to lighten his mood, but every single syllable was a waste of breath. He ran a hand through his hair and continued, "Look just… s-swear they're alright. And tell us more about this shit. Please."

"We don't have all the details, unfortunately. Just that Peter Gunner's apartment building went up in flames, today… and anyone attempting to get out was shot dead at the door. Levi Gunner and his family are on the list of those we haven't been able to contact…" Atticus stated, with a shake of his head, "We're still attempting…"

"The people responsible…" Samera added, "They're thorough, and they don't waste time. As for why… we can only guess. Point is, you should trust us because A, we're your only aid right now and B…"

"If we wanted you dead, we'd have just let the plane crash. So please… if you don't mind, I'd like to get us in the clear?"

Peter… his apartment in flames and shot up. No, no, no… he had to have made it out. He was clever. All Gunners were clever. Hell, Levi could be halfway across the country with Daisy and Lizzie… he was smart. He got out. They had to have escaped. Horror flickered in Francis' eyes, her free hand coming up to cover her gaping mouth. If Levi was hurt… if Lizzie was hurt… she would never forgive herself for not being there. For vacationing in Paris.

Looking between the two, Francis still had no idea whether or not to trust them. On one hand, apparently, they had been the ones to stop the crash. How, she didn't know, but she was thankful. Endlessly thankful. On the other hand, they knew gruesome details about what was happening to their friends, their family. They knew just enough information to get them to listen but not enough to answer their questions. Did that mean they had been trying to stop it? Or were they playing right into their hands.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Francis looked with tired eyes to Lucas. "It's your call." She murmured.

Lucas could've sworn he'd swallowed his own heart three times over. How was it that with every passing moment, reality managed to rip another shred of peace from his existence? All of the love and enjoyment and magical moments he'd shared with Fran in Paris… It was happening while they're loved ones were in danger. Levi. Daisy. Lizzy. Peter… Christ. If circumstances weren't so dire and running on a time crunch, he would've vomited then and there.

He mirrored the absolutely miserable and lost look Fran shot his way, swallowing back the emotion tearing his apart from the inside out, before looking at Atticus and Samera. He nodded. Once. Stiffly. His voice was nothing but a thin rasp. "Okay… Lead the way."

"Right…" Reaching out, Atticus took hold of Samera's arm, who in turn held her hand out with a pleasant smile towards Fran.

"Just hang on tight… and think happy thou--"

"Mer…" Atticus growled.

"Sorry." Grinning, Mer shrugged, "He hates it when I say that. Just grab my hand. Won't be a second."

Francis at first recoiled, distaste lingering in her expression as Samera's hand reached out. She didn't trust these people. The overload of bad news weighed on shoulders, made her feel closer to the ground with every second. She wanted to melt away. Their life had nearly been taken from them, only to find out it was about to be taken from their dearest friends. And here she was… taking a stranger's hand.

She tried to catch Lucas' gaze, to communicate some message of hope and reassurance. But the fear in her eyes was hard to mask, and the only thing that came off as reassuring was a squeeze of their hands. Biting her lip, Fran reached for Samera's hand and clung tight.

Steadying his lungs, Lucas took Samera's advice to heart and tried to focus on a single image that never failed to bring him peace. Squeezing Fran's hand back, he never let his gaze stray from her and prepared himself.

There was a hissing sound, like air being let out of a tire, then, growing into a steady rush, and with the sensation of diving too deep into a pool, pressure tightened. The feeling intensified, a tugging deep within the stomach, until it became steadily more difficult to breath. There was a sudden loud snap and blackness, before the intensity vanished and the world resolved…

The plane was gone, and instead, they appeared in a plain white room, bright lights glaring overhead.

The sound of chairs scraping metal shrieked through the small space and two figures rose from behind a table - a dark haired man, thin and tall, decked in tattoos, and a slightly taller man than him… white-blonde, gaunt, with pale blue eyes.

A crooked smile tipped at the corner of the blonde's lips, as he eyed the newcomers…

"Hello, Francis…" Neil remarked, coolly.

 

[Mobley Eats]

Long Days and Nights | Interactions: Nem & Nadia @Elle Joyner

The drive was made in silence, and despite the natural discomfort generally felt when no one was saying what they really wanted to say, Nadia was grateful for it. She was tired… not just physically, but emotionally… Spent. And knowing it wasn't over gave her no small sense of anxiety. They were… well, she was going to need to come up with a better plan than hiding out, and that wasn't something she was looking forward to.

As the car pulled up outside of the motel, Nadia slid out, staring at the Batesesque building with a flare of regret. Still… They took cash and seemed like the type of place not to ask too many questions. It would have to do.

Looking over to Nem, who had gotten out as well, she winced, feeling emotions piling up inside her, with a resonant burning behind her weary eyes, "...If you're mad at me, it's okay, you know…".

"I'm not." Nem's response came quickly, though lacking a single wisp of energy. He had maintained a powerful grip around his staff, proving to be the only item grounding him in that moment, physically and emotionally. "I am… more so overwhelmed, than anything else, Nadia. Facets of my life, my teachings, my morals and mottos--they're clashing like the fronts of war. Silence is simply how I… cope."

It was a miracle in itself that the monk managed to formulate enough of his thoughts to crank that out and it seemed as if he had more to say; however, he clamped his mouth shut when Carter poked his head out the window, still seated in the driver's seat. "Honties? I'm just gonna put it out there and say that I can smell the spilled tea all the way from over here. So… whatever shit you two need to work through, you got all my blessings, but I gotta go. Don't forget you've got my number, alright?"

Chuckling lightly at Carter, Nadia nodded, "Thanks, Splenda. I sent you a text, so you got my number, too. Don't be a stranger, yeah?"

She waited until he'd gone, allowing silence to fall again, but as the sound of the tires on gravel died out and the air stilled, she turned her attention back to Nem, "Trouble is… I'm no good at this Zen stuff, Nem. I don't know how to deal with any of this. I… I've had people try to kill me before. That's nothing new. But this? This felt personal… and that scares the hell out of me. I'm just… I'm lost, right now, and it's not a feeling I like…"

"Peace never comes easy…" Nem sighed, forehead resting against his staff as he continued to focus on his center. "You do not need to defend your sentiments, Nadia. I promise that I understand your choices and decisions… but it's a fickle balance. The heart and the mind. We've been shaken by today and thrown out of our shells, so…" His next inhaled stuttered, but it proved to help settle more of the nerves in his gut. "I believe we're just in desperate need of a break, yes? A moment to rest."

"A break… no kidding. Hard to catch one, these days, but I guess we take what we can get, right?" Nodding, Nadia rubbed the space where the dart had struck earlier, frowning as she glanced back to the motel, "Just… need to shower the whole damn night away. Could… could I ask you something, Nem?"

He didn't lift his head up, but the attentiveness to his tone was obvious. "Of course, Nadia. You are welcome to ask me anything," he said.

"Would you stay?" Hand dropping to her side, she fidgeted with the edge of her work apron, "I know I sound like a crazy person, after what I said before, but I… I don't know how to ask for help, and I think maybe I need some, right now. I'm scared, and I don't wanna be alone…"

Nem's brow initially arched with surprise, before it smoothed over a moment later. His dull blue eyes softened. There was the minor ruffling of fabric between fingers coming from Nadia's direction, a clear sign of some sort of anxious motion, and the sentiment was far from lost in her tone. He nodded. "As I said before… the heart and mind are fickle. But I do not wish for you to be alone either. I'll stay."

Shifting, Nadia hesitated a moment, before stepping closer, her arms gingerly folding around Nem's shoulders in a gentle hug, "Thank you. For… for everything. I know you said it's not necessary, but I'm gonna say it anyway. Without you and Carter, I'd be dead. So… thank you."

Stepping back, with a small, dry smile, she shook her head, "Come on. We'd better get inside before we're hit by meteors or something…"

Nem stiffened from the unforeseen contact, murky eyes blinking as he slowly registered the touch. He… couldn't recall the last time someone had given him a leg, let alone shared physical contact with him outside of dire or violent circumstances. Exhaling, he slowly raised and arm to gently pat Nadia on the back. "We would never let anything happen to you, dear Nadia… Thank you for continuing to be a wonderful friend." As she pulled away, he flashed a smile, though it was weighed down by creeping exhaustion, and followed the sounds of her footfalls. "Yes, of course."

Nevermind that he had several questions running through his mind about the meteors comment… but he decided to toss it into the "American Slang" bin and leave it be.

 

[WingWong]

Run Girl Run Part 1
Collab with @Mobley Eats
Characters: Jamie, Jaz, and Ti.

---

Run. That's what she'd been told to do, and so she did.

She'd been faced with Aster, eyes wide with fear and a fire of determination behind them. There was someone coming, she'd said. They were coming for her, they were coming for Aster, and they were coming for Dorien. She'd been told there was no time for anything else, no time for a plan. She just had to run.

So Jamie did.

She ran.

Her feet pounded against asphalt. Her lungs were burning. Her heart raced in her chest. Blood sang in her ears. She clutched her bag close, it having been the only thing she had on her when she'd been headed back home.

She didn't know where she would go. She didn't know what she would do.

She just knew she would have to disappear, and disappear she would.

"Bruh… Why'd we take this way?"

"Cuz dat's… the right way to go?"

Jaz shot her brother an incredulous look from the passenger seat, their family RV cruising down a solitary street. She didn't like this set up--not one bit. Well, okay, rewind. She loved the idea of going on a cross country road trip with her oldest brother, but it came in the form of a farewell, as one last bonding session with a sibling before she was shipped off to Rogue. Freaking A--how did her luck turn out this shitty? Why did her parents think it was a good idea to send in her, a cookie throwing video game hermit?

Unbelievable.

"Nu uh… nope. Nope." Jaz shook her head as she stared out the window, nose scrunching up at the sight. Trees. Forests and trees galore. This was too creepy for her tastes; all she would have to do is stick a pinky toe into those damn woods and bam--an episode of How To Get Away with Murder. "Ti. Sir. I know you see all dese goddamn woods 'round us! Don' go blind now while you mannin' the whole fuckin' steering wheel!"

"You're being extra," Ti sighed while rolling his eyes. "I've been to Chicago 'n back before--like five times. I got dis." However, he frowned somewhat as he glanced at Jaz, who seemed to have tuned him out some time ago and was squinting ahead. Without tearing her gaze from the road, she reached out to slap at the man's arm.

"Ti, Ti, Ti, Ti, TI!"

"Girl! What?" Ti heaved a sigh while shaking off her insistent slapping. Regardless of the annoyance in his voice, his stomach twisted somewhat, and coiled even further as he finally looked wherever her gaze was attached to. Initially, he grimaced, as if doubting the reality his mind was processing, before uttering a string of curses under his breath. "Is that…?"

"A whole ass woman runnin' through the woods--probs gettin' chased by a murderer 'n we're next. Fuck!" A beat. "Yo, speed up. We didn' see nothing."

Ti sucked his teeth. "Shaddup! We ain't gonna just leave her there!"

"I was just jokin'..." Jaz grumbled as the siblings slowed down the RV and pulled to a stop on the side of the road, a few yards or so behind the girl. Ti rolled down the window and peeked his head out, arm waving.

"Aye! Hey, you lost or somethin'?" he yelled out.

"You gonna kill us?!" Jaz tagged on.

Jamie wasn't sure when the urban sprawl had turned into trees. She didn't care, really. She had to go. Somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere safer than with her brother. It felt like a sick joke. The safest she'd ever felt was with her brother in her corner, and now she had no way of knowing if he'd ever be there again. What did you get into, Dorien?

Actually, she did care that she was in the forest. Shit. Shit. She couldn't see the sun clearly. She couldn't navigate with anything Dorien had taught her. She was absolute shit with directions. She'd always been bad at it. She could get lost easier than anyone else she knew. It had gotten worse in the past year, though. This was the absolute worst time for her to be lost. And that's what she was. Lost. What fucking luck she had.

She saw the RV driving towards her, growing closer by the moment. Her heart sank. Please. Whoever was coming for her, whatever they wanted, don't let this be them. Don't let this be it. She had things she wanted to do, damnit, and ending up in a ravine somewhere was not on the bucket list!

She slowed, only a little, as the RV pulled over. The second, the absolute fucking second it looked sketchy, she was getting the hell out of dodge. She just… She needed a moment. Good God, it had been a while since she'd run like that. Maybe she should consider finding a rugby team again. Keep in shape. Of course, that was for another day. A day where she wasn't in some sort of immediate danger from an unknown source.

She doubled over, bracing her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. She looked up at the pair that called out to her. Panting, she took a couple of seconds before answering. "I...yeah, I don't… I don't know where I'm at." It took a little swallowing of her pride to admit that, but hell, this was the day for strange things. She might as well embrace it.

She squinted at the pair at the second question. Was she gonna…? Was she going to kill them?

"What the fuck kind of question is that? 'Am I going to kill you?' Because if I'm a sketchy bastard in the woods, I'll definitely answer that honestly," Jamie deadpanned. She then flung up an arm as a realization hit her. "Am I gonna kill you? How the fuck would I do that? With a calculus textbook?" She paused. "Alright, you know what, that is a deadly weapon, so you get a point. But why-." She cut herself off, dragging a hand over her face. Was she gonna kill them? What the hell kind of question was that?

Jaz was already shaking her head the moment this woman opened her mouth. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. She slapped Ti on the shoulder again before yanking his head back into the RV. "You heard dis woman?? She know how t'kill wit a whole goddamn textbook--I vote we bounce. Ain't nevuh too late, man!"

However, Ti clearly wasn't having any of Jaz's paranoid shenanigans. He shrugged her off and ignored her pout, opting this time to open the door and hop out. He held his hands up as he approached her slowly, attempting to appear as harmless as possible. "Look… I don' know what you doin' out here sprintin' and shit, but we just wanna help--"

"Negro! Do not volunteer me as tribute!"

"Jaz! Shaddup, damn!" Ti hollered, dipped head to toe in pure exasperation. His little sister honestly never knew when to quit. Shaking his head, he focused on the woman once more and continued, "Don't mind her, a'ight? She just like to hear herself talk 'n shit. Do ya need a lift somewhere? From what I saw, look like you gotta get somewhere--fast."

Jamie just listened in silence, panting as the two of them talked. She tensed slightly as Ti hopped out of the vehicle, bracing to run. As worried as the pair seemed about her, she seemed to be equally worried about them. "...How do I know you two aren't going to kill me? It's the joggers in the forest, you know. Always the goddamn joggers. I'm not a perky blonde white woman, but this is not how I want shit to end for me either."

She was working her jaw, trying to assess the two in front of her. Yeah, she needed help. She had no idea where she was, or where she was going to go. She didn't even know who she was running from. "I'd take you up on that, but… I don't- I don't even know where I have to go." She took a deep breath, standing up straighter now that she'd caught her breath. "I just know I have to not be here."

"Uh… Shit, I mean…" Ti scratched the back of his head, glancing back briefly at Jaz as if silently asking for help. Of course, his sister just held her hands up and looked away--he got them into this mess, it was his responsibility to sort it out. Ti heaved a tired sigh before looking back at Jamie. "We're not really da killin' type, ya know? Shit, I can barely handle watchin' horror movies, too much damn gore in it."

"Cuz you a chump~" Jaz cooed from the RV, a shit-eating grin splitting her face.

The tiniest bit of heat flowed into Ti's cheeks at the jab before, without looking back, shot his sister the middle finger. He addressed Jamie again. "I don' really know how t'convince ya dat we're harmless, so uh…" Hesitantly, he moved back towards the RV and sat down in front of it, watching Jamie awkwardly while drumming against his thighs. His gaze snapped up to Jaz, the plea clear in his brown eyes.

"...What?" Jaz muttered, arms folded as she avoided his stare like the black plague. "Don' go givin' me dat look, man. I'm serious!"

He continued to stare…

A long pause.

A loud and withering groan escaped Jaz in defeat. "Flyin'--frickin'--fuckin'--FINE!" Sagging like a deflated balloon, she dragged her feet over to her brother and plopped down next to him, knees pulled up to her chest and chin resting on her arms, cheeks puffed out into an exaggerated pout.

"We ain't leavin' ya alone out here," Ti said, his tone firm, "It just ain't right. So… if you gotta get outta here, den you can just roll wit us."

Jamie watched the exchange with a single lifted brow, eyes flicking back and forth between the brother and sister. She watched, saying nothing as the pair of them both found themselves sitting beside the RV. She stood there, unmoving and unspeaking for a long while.

It was a risk. A massive, massive risk. She didn't know who was looking for her or what they wanted. For all she knew, she could be walking into an RV shaped trap. She could end up in a ravine, which was, again, not where she wanted to be. Or she could keep going, aimlessly with no sense of direction, and still end up in a ditch.

Fantastic. What a set of options she had.

"...Okay," she said eventually in agreement. She didn't untense, but she wasn't about to start swinging her book bag around either. She could take them if she needed to, right? She hoped so. Rugby don't fail her now…

Ti and Jaz had simultaneous yet completely different reactions. The elder brother instantly brightened and shot to his feet, clapping his hands together loudly with a massive, toothy smile. The illuminance behind it was borderline blinding. "Ayyye! Awesome! Well, uh, you can hop on 'n we'll lay down our lil route we got goin'! Figure out da rest of dat while on the da road!" Jaz, on the other hand, just groaned again and followed behind her brother, hands shoved into her pockets.

This… was stupid. As hell. And reckless. And dangerous. But hey--Ti was the oldest, so she had to listen to his judgement at the end of the day. Grumbling, she marched back onto the RV without a single word, plopping onto a pull-out futon near the back.

"Uh… Again, sorry bout her," Ti chuckled. He then waved an arm towards the door, looking at Jamie. "You can call us, Ti 'n Jaz, by da way. We don' do any of dat formal shit, ya know?"

It took a moment for her to start making her way towards the RV. Jamie blinked away the spots in her eyes from the blinding smile send her way before slowly approaching the vehicle. Following the siblings' lead, she stepped up into interior. She glanced around, hesitating for a few beats of silence before taking a seat. She dropped her bag at her feet, as her form as a peace offering to Jaz since her lethal ability with textbooks was of some concern.

"Right," Jamie answered, waving off the apology. "It's fine. I've dealt with worse. I'm Jamie, and uh, thanks. For stopping."

Ti bounded onto the RV behind Jamie, instantly plopping down into the driver's seat and cranking up the engine. "Ain't no problem, bobbem!" he exclaimed, internally wincing before correcting himself, "Uh, Jamie. I meant Jamie. Definitely Jamie." As he pulled back onto the street, still cruising at a relaxed speed, he continued lightly, "A'ight, so, if ya ain't noticed yet, Jaz 'n I hail from South Cackalacky. Or, South Carolina--however da books call 'em." He chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Was just takin' a nice lil roadtrip wit my sis, ya know? Enjoy da sites up here, then head on back home for a bit."

As Ti explained their traveling schedule, Jaz's head lifted briefly at the sound of Jamie's bag meeting the floor, before she glanced at the woman. "...Where you from, Textbook Terror?" she asked, the humor strangely clear in her tone despite the distrust coloring her visage.

"Right…" she said slowly. Jamie nodded, before her eyebrow quirked up yet again. These two were… an interesting bunch to say the least. The roadtrip was a nice idea, though. She couldn't remember the last time she'd travelled a lot. It would probably have been when Mom and Dad were still around. She winced at the thought, it having caught her from nowhere. Yeah, that was probably not something she should think too hard about in the company of strangers. Especially when she wasn't sure how likely it was for her to still end up in a ditch.

She leaned back in her seat, looking over at Jaz as she spoke. "Chicago," she said simply with a shrug. "They had regular classes on turning textbooks into deadly weapons in my school. I got all A's," she snarked, unable to help the grin.

The siblings released two long whistles in sync, clearly impressed. "So we done came 'cross a brainiac, huh?" Ti teased, eyes briefly flickering to the overhead mirror to glance at Jamie. "Yo, sis--you 'n Jamie can probs bond ovuh dat. Have ya lil nerd talks 'n stuff."

Lazily, Jaz shot him the middle finger again. "Fuuuuck. Oooooff," she sang in something reminiscent of an opera performer, her tone doused in fake saccharine. Regardless, she figured it didn't hurt to give this Jamie woman a chance. Jaz was awful when it came to first impressions (ah, paranoia, you convenient little fucker you) but she always tried to mend any tears after that. Sometimes she was successful. Other times? Well… not everyone one met was bound to like them; that was just a classic rule of life. "Nerds are gonna take ovuh da fuckin' world, Ti. Just ya wait 'n see, man."

Jaz slowly sat up, groaning as she stretched until a series of pops emanated from her spine. "Ho damn! Always feelin' older dan I am, ain't it?" she chuckled while grinning at Jamie. "But hey, I get da whole using what ya got for weapons bit. Ya make do wit wha'cha got." Jaz knew that her brother was hiding a knowing smirk and the thought alone nearly made her eyes roll.

Jamie snorted as the both of them whistled at her remark. She shook her head, just managing to not roll her eyes. "As far as I'm concerned," she started, turning to look at Ti with an ever growing wicked grin, "nerds have already taken over the world. You just don't know it yet." She shrugged with one shoulder before her gaze turned back to Jaz.

"Uh-huh. You know, you were really concerned about me making do with what I've got earlier," she deadpanned, nudging her bag lightly with her foot. "So I guess I'm doing pretty well for myself, all things considered."

"Eh, there's a lot I don' know," Ti conceded with a shrug. "So I ain't gonna be da one to argue wit ya on dat one."

"Madam," Jaz started, one hand pressed over her heart, "You boutta learn real quick dat I get concerned over everythang. Not everything--but everythang." She raised one finger to wag at Jamie playfully. "It ain't safe out here in these streets, young whipper snapper! Better heed my warnin'!" She couldn't uphold the old lady impression for very long, soon devolving into a (admittedly) dorky laugh while scratching her cheek.

"Aye yo, Ti. Can we like, stop fo' food at some point? I'm gonna wind up dyin' in da back of dis RV, man," she said.

"I… Gurl, you ate two hours ago," Ti sighed.

"...I love you."

"Don't."

"I wove you to da moon and baaaa--"

"A'ight! Aight! Jesus." Ti unleashed a long string of grumbles under his breath before forcing his tone to smooth over when addressing Jamie again. "You hungry too? It'll be on us, so no worries bout payin' 'n stuff."

"I'm starting to get that impression from you, yeah," Jamie admitted as she eyed Jaz in amusement. "I appreciate the effort you're making to be hip with the kids these days, though. Calling me 'whippersnapper.' What's next, you telling me to get off your lawn?" she snorted.

She watched the exchange between the siblings with a small smile, eyes flicking back and forth between them. It almost sounded like it could be a conversation between her and Dorien. Her smile faltered a little at the thought. She couldn't help but wonder again what on earth her brother had gotten into.

"...Well, shit, I'm not going to say no to free food."

"Damn… you a whole ass mind reader, too," Jaz chuckled, returning the look with absolutely no (lies) awkwardness tingeing her gaze. Eye contact made her uncomfortable--go figure. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, dat's da spirit man! Hell, careful, or you'll wind up turnin' into a country bumpkin just like us! Shit starts off slow wit da whole, 'free food? Bitch--gimme' then, next thing ya know, you gonna be cravin' roadkill."

A beat.

"...Please, fo' da love of God, don' actually believe we eat dat shit."

"Don' go puttin' dem lies in her head, Jaz," Ti chuckled. "A'ight well, I don' know bout y'all, but I'mma just grab us some Mickey D's. Ole Tiberius needs a burger up in dis stomach." Jaz let loose a happy hum in agreement, which encouraged Ti to reach out for the GPS. "I don' think I ever stopped 'round in dis area for somethin' to eat, but I'm pretty sure there's one nearby here."

Jamie chuckled with a mischievous grin, "I can neither confirm nor deny." She tilted her head, giving Jaz a slightly confused and concerned look. "Doubtful, but I'll take your word on that," she said after a moment, the slightly concerned smile staying on her face even as Jaz backtracked. She snorted, shaking her head before glancing up at Ti.

"Yeah, that works. Could really go for some of those fries right now…" she hummed in agreement, before her eyes caught what Ti was reaching for. She froze. Oh, God, the GPS. She'd forgotten. How could she possibly have forgotten? 10 months of tech sporadically deciding to not recognize her, and she'd forgotten. She bounced her leg a little anxiously, trying not to seem too engrossed on whether or not the GPS worked. It was fine. It was fine. It would probably work, right? She didn't say anything, didn't warn them, for fear they would kick her into the forest again. Or worse.

Please let it work. Please let it work.

"Dat's what they all say," Jaz said, flopping back onto the futon with an arm draped over her eyes. One needed to achieve absolute Zen and ground their center before demolishing the mortal blessings--Mcnuggets, in other words. "Don' mind me. Just stabilizin' my chakras."

"English, Jaz," Ti said, just barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes. However, his brow furrowed when he turned on the GPS and the screen projected nothing but a mess of static and distorted images. Ti tried shutting it off and turning it back on, only to receive the same results as before. "Da hell…" he muttered. "Bruh, I think da GPS is busted or somethin'."

"Uh-huh, sure," Jamie said with an eye roll that she absolutely did not stop. "You have to achieve that perfect inner peace. If you do, then maybe, just maybe, the ice cream machine won't be broken," she added with a grin.

Her smile seemed to tighten just a little before fading as the GPS refused to function, showing static. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. "Huh, that's weird," she commented after a moment, pursing her lips. "And you turned it off and back on again… I dunno what to tell you to do, either. I'm not that kind of tech savvy."

"Negro you broke it a'ready??" Jaz whined, her body falling even more limp than before; in that very moment, she could make a wet noodle seethe with envy.

"Wha… I ain't did nothin' to it!" Ti protested, still pressing away at the screen. He couldn't fathom how the device was malfunctioning and now of all times; he hadn't laid hands on it since the day before yesterday. Heaving a sigh of defeat, he flopped back into his seat. "Well shit. Uhhh… A'ight y'all, I know a gas station comin' up. I'mma stop there to fill up 'n get some directions."

"Ew… social interaction," Jaz mumbled. Then her eyes snapped over to Jamie. "Err, minus you, Jamie. Don't take no offense."

Jamie smiled nervously, choosing still not to let on that she had a very good idea of why the GPS was malfunctioning. It was a bad idea. Risky as hell. For all she knew, they'd turn her over to authorities the second they got the chance if they found out. Better she play it safe. Just for now.

"No offense taken. People are-," she made a face, a deep grimace, to express what exactly what thoughts she had on people as a whole, "ew."

"Ayyye, my gurl," Jaz chuckled while shooting Jamie a lazy thumbs up.

"Bout thirty minutes ago, you was 'bout ready to leave her out on da street. Now she's yo girl?" A knowing smirk nearly graced Ti's features, only for his expression to solidify into something innocent as he kept an eye out for the nearest exit. They had just passed a sign signalling a few rest stops up ahead.

Rather than shooting a comeback, Jaz just settled for a string of indecipherable grumbling and remained where she was, eyes drooping behind her arm with grogginess and hunger.

Jamie grinned over at Jaz, throwing her head back with a laugh as Ti's words met her ears. "It's fine. I have that effect on people. It's how I getcha," she teased, throwing a wink in Jaz's direction. She fell silent as he drove, trying to keep her mind off what she'd been fleeing from. She'd just have to keep moving. She'd be fine. She could worry about the details later. She ended up settling for watching the world pass by from the window of the RV as a suitable alternative to the thoughts she didn't want to think.

 

[Mobley Eats]

Run Girl Run
Part 2 | Interactions: Jaz, Ti, Assholes & Jamie @WingWong

"Whew damn," Ti chuckled, "Guess we both been got, den." As mutual silence settled over the RV, it didn't take long for the exit to come into view. It took even less time to reach a rest stop; it was well lit, but running incredibly low on business and only holding one other car in its parking lot, three men loitering beside it. Squinting, Ti could tell that it was some sort of pickup truck, a dusty black, and something piled into the bed. He couldn't tell what they were, not with the tarp strapped over it.

Shrugging, Ti pulled into the lot a few spaces away from the truck. "Think they oughtta be good to ask fo' directions," he muttered. "Look like they from dis area too."

"And dat's suppose to be a good thing?" Jaz asked incredulously as she staggered to the front, head peering over Ti's seat curiously. And with trepidation. And paranoia. Always the paranoia. "I don' really like dis, man. Boy over there wearin' a whole ass snapback--backwards!"

Jamie pursed her lips as they pulled into the rest stop. She noted the tarp, but decided against thinking too hard about what might be under it. People were weird, and brains were bastards. She didn't need the combination of those facts and Jaz's own paranoia rubbing off on her.

She, too, stood, wobbling towards the front of the RV. She peered around Ti and Jaz both to get a look at the men in question.

"Ah, yes. Backwards snapbacks, the universal sign of undesirables," she deadpanned. She looked over the people in question one more time. "I dunno, though. I'm getting 'stay away' vibes from them. Especially if they are from around here," she commented. Hat jokes aside, she'd learned well enough that there was some trouble you wanted to avoid. These people looked like they could easily be people with 'trouble' for their middle names.

"Man, y'all trippin'," Ti said while waving off Jamie and Jaz's concern. They looked like one thing and one thing only to him--human. No matter the strife and discrimination that reigned in their world, he refused to let that rule over his belief in the others, the ability to see good in them, no matter their background, blood, whatever. He gave his sister a comforting pat on the cheek, grinning at her withering glare. "If ya don' like it dat much, just wait here. I'll keep it quick, a'ight?"

Pulling away from his hand, Jaz tossed a nervous glance at the men once more, then back to Jamie. "Well… whatever, man. I gotta pee right quick, anyway." Honestly, if she held this in for much longer, she might wet herself then and there--those men and their presence didn't help her bladder endurance in the slightest.

Ti shrugged. "A'ight den. Jamie, here." He slid a twenty into her hands without blinking, ignoring any protests she would toss out. "Grab ya'self some snacks or whatever from da store if ya want. Pee fast, Jaz."

"Don't tell my body what to do," Jaz mumbled as she started to file off the RV with her brother.

"Look, I'm just offering my friendly advice as someone who's around here. If you don't want to listen, then," Jamie shrugged lightly. She'd done what she could. She hoped for all their sakes she was wrong, honestly. She blinked as the bill was slid into her hand, silent for several stunned seconds, before she looked up at the siblings. "...Kay," she said slowly, starting to follow them out of the RV.

Ti and Jaz parted ways quickly, the latter circling cautiously around the truck and men, eyes trained on the west end of the building. By the time his sister had disappeared around the corner and stepped into the restroom, Ti had bounded up to the strangers with a pep in his step, his bright smile on full display. "Aye, uh, sirs? Sirs, sorry 'bout disturbin' ya 'n all. Mind givin' us some directions?" he asked.

Almost immediately, three sets of eyes locked onto Ti, studying him like a newly discovered breed of deer to hang on their wall. The one with a backwards hat shot an amused glance towards his friends, who merely shrugged in reply, one taking in a long drag from his cigarette while the other ruffled his hair.

Ti could see the dandruff from here.

Snapback stood to full height, which wasn't much in comparison to Ti, but he had an inch or so over him. "Depends on where you're heading," he drawled lowly, voice full of grit and rasp. His dead gaze peered into Ti's soul and yet, his smile only widened in response.

"Just tryna grab some McDonald's, dat's all. There ain't one nearby here?"

Again, Snapback glanced back at his friends. Then back at Ti. A brief pause… He nodded. "We got a map, kid." He nodded towards the truck. "Come on. Think I got it in the back somewhere." Ti was quick to follow, not noticing one other male with thick sideburns slinking away from the vehicle and heading towards the bathroom. The third also left in silence and waltzed over to the entrance, finishing off his cigarette slowly next to a crash can.

Jamie gave the crew around the truck a wide berth as well. With one last wary look sent in both Jaz and Ti's direction, she slipped into the small area full of snacks, reminiscent of a gas station's selection. Her eyes immediately locked onto mirrors, glass, and any camera in the store. Whatever Ti thought, Jamie would prefer to err on the side of caution. She wasn't stupid by any stretch of the means, and had no intentions to die a stupid death. She'd learned that in situations like these, it was better to listen to her intuition. Her intuition, after all, was rarely wrong when it came to people. Directions, as it happened, were another matter.

Speaking of, she glanced up to the screen suspended from the ceiling, showing the view of the camera she guessed was placed a little further back based on the picture. Her figure had static around the edges, her face indistinct. It seemed that was in full effect then. That screen and the mirrors set up would help guard her six, though, in the unfortunate event she had been followed. She'd look through the candy and snacks, see if there was anything she wanted, and check in on Jaz if she weren't already back. She wanted to get back in the RV at the first chance she got.

She ended up hovering near the candy, waffling on what she wanted to get. She regretted not asking Ti and Jaz what they wanted. It would at least give her some direction as she mulled over what exactly she wanted for herself.

Dropping the last of his cigarette and crushing it under his heel, the man expelled one last cloud of smoke between his chapped lips before slipping into the store. His steps were slow and casual, eyes scanning the shelves full of snacks and candy, just one row behind Jamie. He released a low hum in thought, then snatched a bag of Cheetohs and strolled towards the front counter.

Meanwhile, as Jaz flushed the toilet and started washing her hands in the sink, humming what was arguably the most off-key rendition of One Republic's "Apologize" known to man, she gave pause to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't give any flying fucks about her appearance, to be perfectly honest, not when she didn't have a reason to care. Who would she look good for, anyway? Herself? Meh, no point. She could settle for her personality being tolerable.

And yet, despite the confidence in those thoughts, she bit the inside of her cheek. A single finger brushed the arch of an eyebrow. No acne. "...Gucci," she muttered. As she dried off her hands, there was a sudden knock at the door. A curt rapping of knuckles. Three times. Aloof.

"Uh, busy!" Jaz called out.

More knocking, harsher this time around.

"Dis bitch got diarrhea or some shit…" she grumbled under her breath, eyes narrowing. Well… okay, she said that as a joke, but it was always possible. She'd rather not let anyone suffer like that.

Jaz moved to open the door. "My bad, my bad. All free--" A hand against her mouth muffled her voice as she was forced back inside, the door shutting behind them.

"Ya really is helpin' us out," Ti said. "A real life savuh." He watched Snapback near the tarp and unfasten the straps holding it in place. He peeled it back only a little, just enough to expose a peek of something… indescribable, and snuck his hand inside to rummage for a map. Ti couldn't quite tell what he was looking at--but it was shiny. A dark metal? But, then again, there was something of a wood mahogany color too. Further examination was cut short as the man recovered it, but left the tarp loosened.

"No problem," Snapback muttered while unraveling the map before them. "We're here. Nearest exit could lead you to a McDonald's here." He pointed at the mentioned location, which instantly inspired Ti's smile to widen.

"Oh! Damn, dat ain't far at all." A beat, realization striking him. "Wait. Could?"

"That one closed down recently," the man said. "The next one isn't for another hour drive." As he spoke, he leaned against the back of the truck, one hand releasing the map with a sigh and falling limp next to him. "It's damn hard to find, though. Finding that one is like a scavenger hunt." His gaze landed on Ti. "Finding it on your own will be impossible."

Jamie's gaze lifted slightly as the man entered the store. She watched as well as she could from the corner of her eye as he passed by with a bag of Cheetohs in hand. She trained her eyes on him for a few more beats, before quietly grabbing a bag of Sour Patch Kids. If all went well, she'd ask the other two what they wanted. If it didn't…

She meandered over to the stranger merchandise, unrelated to food, that gas stations tended to carry. Baseball caps, dumb t-shirts, keychains, umbrellas.... She stood there a little while, playing idly with the keychains, as if she were looking for her name. Yeah, right, there weren't a whole lot of 'Jamina' keychains in the world, and while 'Jamie' was slightly more common… yeah, no.

She stayed close to the umbrellas though. It was a good whacking weapon if she needed it. Too bad they didn't sell bats. She really could've used one of those right now. Still, she hovered, keeping the man in question just at the edge of her vision.

"FUCK YOU YA PUNKASS BITCH WIT YO OLE NASTY ASS HANDS ALL UP ON MY FUCKIN' MOUTH BITCH I'MMA COLD COCK YO ASS SO FUCKIN' HARD DAT YA CRUSTY ASS MOMMA GONNA FEEL DAT SHIT ALL DA WAY FROM TIMBUKTU!"

If Jaz's mouth hadn't been currently shielded, those exact words would've flooded the bathroom. However, it only registered as a series of furious and panicked noises warming the man's palm, which encouraged his sick smile to widen even further. Jaz's leg snapped up in between his own, trying to kick his groin into next week, but he had caught the motion in time, knees knocking together to catch her foot.

"Not nice," he snarled. With a monstrous shove, he sent her barreling backwards, back meeting the sink painfully before she fell over, hand to her aching spine. "Oh… Shit… O-ow…" she coughed. She knew it. She fucking knew these guys were shady and untrustworthy. When she got out of this--if she got out of this--she would personally sock Ti right in his dopey thick jaw. Blinking through the pain, he free hand twitched, trying to will her abilities. C'mon, bruh… c'mon…

Nothing.

Jaz heaved a soft curse under her breath while glaring up at the man, who watched her wallow with amusement. "Don't fight me, now. Well… not too hard." I got a whole ass loogey buildin' up just fo' yo sick ass, just you wait, Jaz seethed internally.

Eyes followed Jamie as she meandered over from one end of the store to another, apparently invested in keychains and umbrellas. Her personal stalker, who had been standing at the front counter, leaned over it to peer into the back. He didn't spot the cashier, likely goofing off and assumed the slow business for today granted them extra free time.

He nearly grinned.

Schooling his features into nonchalance, he strolled over into the same area as Jamie, looking over the keychains she was fiddling with. "Place can get those custom made, you know," he muttered, taking a few steps closer. Side steps. Hovering.

Ti's lips pursed in thought. "Uh… Man, dat's a'ight. I don' want ya goin' through all dat fo' us. We'll just settle on some smacks from here." He shoved his hands into his pockets, flashing Snapback another bright smile.

"...You sure about that?" the man asked, tone flat as he stood to full height once more, nearing Ti slowly. However, his advances were brushed off, and the young man nodded.

"Yeah! We got dis. I'mma check on my sis, anyway." He turned down the same direction Jaz had taken earlier, a hint of concern ebbing into his features. She should've been back by now. "Gurl props got stuck on da stall door or somethin'. She would do dat--..." Ti froze, confusion dousing him from head to toe.

Something pressed into his back, followed by the clicking of a hammer and the man's voice, this time heavy with a leer. "I'll ask again…" His grip on the rifle tightened. "You sure about that?"

Jamie looked over at him, head angling up as he spoke. As he moved closer, she moved away. "Yeah, I know. I just wanna see if they've wisened up and realized the world is more than Ashley's and Sarah's. Lucky me, they've realized there's a singular Nicole in the world," she said with a dry smile.

She kept her gaze on him, watching warily, hoping that her talking was enough to distract him from how her hand curled around the handle of a long umbrella. Sturdy, she hoped. She eased just a little closer towards said umbrella, trying to make it seem natural. She clutched it nearly behind her back as her grip tightened, ready to swing even as her smile remained mostly natural despite being just a little tense.

Jaz gave a violent jerk as the man descended upon her, straddling her while pinning her down forcefully. He was big, much heavier than twice her own weight, so shoving him off was next to impossible. Twin beefy hands seized her by the neck and squeezed, forcing a strained cough from her as she clawed at his arms. The man watched her squirm, the fascination growing more and more by the second. "Hold still," he cooed, a tongue swiping over yellowing teeth. "You'll feel better soon. Promise."

Oh. This. Nasty. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

Jaz's struggling intensified, rage buzzing through her bloodstream. Her knee jerked up to smash into his groin, only to meet the same fate as last time. Just as the man parted his lips to taunt her, a grunt usurped it, and he palmed at the blood rolling down his forearm. "How the fuck did you?" His wide eyes fell onto Jaz's palm, which was bisected by some organic object protruding from her skin. Rounded edges riddled with razor sharp ridges, dotted with chocolate chips--

Smack!

Jaz smashed into his face with a headbutt, his nose flattening from the hit and consciousness fleeing from him. She shoved him off with an annoyed grumble and staggered to her feet, staring down at the asshole. A brief pause, before kicking him in the gut with a growl. And again. With every kick, she yelled in between, "For!" Kick. "Your!" Kick. "Fucking!" Kick. "Information!" Kick, kick. "You's an ugly sonuvabitch!" One more kick. "AND I'M GAY!"

Huffing angrily, she brushed her braids out of her face and quickly sprinted out of the bathroom. Knowing Ti, that fool wouldn't realize he was in trouble until it was too late.

Ti scratched the back of his head, ignoring the warning nudge from behind. "But… I done said dat I don' wanna roll wit y'all," he said.

"I don't give a fuck what you want," Snapback growled. "Get in the truck. Now."

"You, uh, you really tryna do dis?" Ti asked lightly.

His question was answered with another nudge. "Don't make me tell you again!"

"Kay. I won't." Without missing a beat, he turned around, making the man's eyes bug out of his skull. Ti seized the barrel of his rifle and snapped it up towards his face, grinning down at the contraption. "Dis one crazy ass gun ya got! New model or some shit?"

"The HELL is wrong with you, kid?!" the man screamed as color drained from his face. Was this kid suicidal?

Ti frowned innocently. "Uh… nothin'? Just askin' a question, dat's all… Hey, dis thing shoot good? I wanna know." He smiled, showing all pearly whites. "You oughtta pull dat trigger 'n show me."

Hearing Snapback's scream, the man near Jamie had ignored her words and immediately reached out for her in an attempt to wrap one arm around her and slap a hand over her mouth.

A snarl curled over Jamie's face as she swung the umbrella at his face, letting out a rage-filled scream to let him know exactly what she thought of him trying to touch her at all. Let alone her mouth. Fuck that shit.

She ducked away immediately after, not keen on getting up-close and personal after smacking him in the face. She gripped the umbrella in both hands, bolting for the door, her candy forgotten.

When Jaz rounded the corner, she almost felt her soul fly out of her body. There her brother was, holding a whole fucking rifle up to his face and smiling like the idiot he was. Well, at the very least, Jaz could recognize that specific smile from any distance away.

He was likely three seconds away from taking off the man's hand.

Oh boy.

"Don't you fuckin' chomp nobody," Jaz muttered before launching into a dead sprint. The weapon in her hand from earlier slipped through her skin entirely and with a sharp flick of the wrist, a cookie sliced through the air like a deadly shuriken. It embedded into Snapback's shoulder, instantly eliciting a strained yelp from the man. He snapped back, gun jutting into the air as a bullet loosed from the barrel.

Pouncing on the opportunity, Jaz tried to leap onto the man's back and wrench the rifle from his hands, but his grasp remained firm.

Until Ti's teeth sunk into that same shoulder, piercing skin. Nothing too deep to cause serious damage, but more than enough to slacken Snapback's handling on the gun. Ti snatched it free and aimed it at their harasser, his usually pure smile tainted with smears of red. "Ya can get on off 'em now, Jaz," he chirped.

Meanwhile, the man who had taken Jamie's umbrella straight to the face stumbled back from the hit, cursing loudly while cradling his nose. With a snarl, he shook off the shock and chased her down, clearing the distance before she could escape. He came to a stop in front of the entrance, blocking her escape. The fire in his eyes promised blood.

Jamie skidded to a stop, eyes wide with alarm and then something much, much closer to rage. She'd taken down girls a lot bigger and a lot uglier before. She'd taken down shitheads that didn't know when to stop talking. She could take this fucker. "Bitch!" Jamie snarled, swinging the umbrella into him with all her might. In her turn, using her momentum from her swing, she drove her knee into his groin.

With a strained wheeze, the man keeled over from the shot to his crotch, features tight with pain. All remnants of intimidation had drained from him in tandem with strength and with another cough, he crumpled to the ground, curling into a feeble ball. "You f-fucking bitch," he gasped.

Back outside, Jaz had heard Ti's reassurance. Loud and clear. She really did.

"Fuck dat!"

It didn't mean she would listen, not after the clear result of her brother's poor decision making. With an irate snarl, she drove a fist directly into Snapback's temple. His head snapped from the impact, forcing a low and rumbling growl from the pit of his stomach. Just as Jaz raised her fist for another blow, he caught her by the wrist and yanked, giving a violent jerk until she was tossed aside. She met asphalt hard, the wind escaping her lungs.

Before either sibling could blink, he then made a dash from the truck's tarp. His fingers brushed along the edge--

Another bang.

"Fuck!" Snapback wailed in agony while hopping around and cradling his foot. A bloody crater resided in the middle of his boot. He lost his balance soon after and could do nothing but glare up at Ti as he stood over him. The smile had long vanished now, replaced by a soft look of pity. Perhaps apologetic.

"Sorry bout ya foot," Ti said. Before Snapback could bark out a threat, the butt of his rifle cracked into his skull and his world was submerged in black. "And bout ya head." The young man took a moment to look him over, making sure he was truly knocked down for good before helping Jaz back onto her feet--

Jaz smacked him in the back of the head.

"O-ow! What ya do dat for?"

"FO' BEIN' A DUMBASS YA FUCKIN' DUMBASS WE ALMOST DIED--oh shit Jamie."

The siblings traded looks of horror before whipping around and making their way towards the store. They could see a body writhing on the floor, but what mattered to them more was the sight of Jamie with an umbrella in hand.

"Don't start with me, fucknut," Jamie sneered, looking down at him with clear distaste. "Fuckin' dipshit." She chunked the umbrella behind her, not needing theft on the list of things she had to worry about. And if she made sure to step on the man before her as she slipped out the door, well, she'd never admit it, that was for sure.

She stopped outside the door, eyes flicking over the pair of them both. "... The fuck happened to you?" she asked, noting blood on Ti's teeth. What the hell?

"Punkass fuck tried t'corner my ass in da fuckin' bathroom," Jaz grumbled… only to blink as she realized that Jamie was referring to Ti. Oh… fuck. That was right. She raised a hand. "Uhhh, don' worry 'bout dat--"

"I bit 'em," Ti said with a shrug.

Jaz pinched her brow with a withering sigh. She loved her brother. So much. She just needed to keep reminding herself that. A moment later, she looked Jamie up and down, the concern clear in her eyes. "You a'ight?" she asked.

Back in the store, the man heaved a miserable groan, one hand still cradling his poor abused groin while struggling to get his feet under him. That woman--no, the whole trio were going to pay, one way or another. "O-oh, God… am I bleeding?" he whimpered.

For now, standing up was top priority.

Jamie squinted at Ti, vaguely disturbed confusion registering in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, only for nothing to come out. She stood there for several more moments, mouth opened and eyes squinting at Ti.

"...Okay…" she said slowly, gaze flicking back towards Jaz. What the fuuuuck. "Yeah, I'll be fine. You?" She then paused entirely, slowly turning back to face the man on the other side of the door. "Dude. Dude, just fuckin' stay down," she huffed, exasperation on her face.

With an apparent limp, the man managed to drag himself outside and into the lot, wincing with every shaky step he took. He was prepared to rally his boys together, to pounce the kids all at once and gun them down. However, as he took in the sight of James unconscious and bleeding from the foot, his eyes widened. "You… What the fuck did you kids do?!" A snarl pulled at his lips, rage zeroing in on Jamie.

Cautiously, Jaz palmed the side of Ti's neck and guided him lower for her to whisper in his ear, "Guard dat truck…" Ti gave a brief nod before sneaking his way over, barrel now leveled on the man. Jaz shoved her hands into her pockets, taking a few steps forward until she was next to Jamie. "Bruh. Seriously. Listen to her… You bout t'get yo ass whooped," she warned.

Adrenaline was still singing in Jamie's ears. This had been a long day already. Not knowing what her brother had gotten into, being told to run, running for hours to get lost, getting picked up by a pair of siblings that included a guy that bit someone, and then going here and dealing with this guy? This obstinate fucker? And that, that was just after she'd gotten out of class. That was all the icing on the goddamn cake.

Every limping step the man took made her a little madder. She worked her jaw, shaking her head. Her hands curled into fists, rage filling her system. Her eyes widened, giving the absolute idiot a look full of hell and fury.

"What did we do? What did we do? What I did was do the world a goddamn favor by making sure your smelly ass can't ever fuckin' breed again," Jamie snarled, rage growing by the second. A bitter laugh escaped her. "Yet, here you are, still fuckin' going. You wanna go? You wanna fuckin' go?!" she continued, her voice just shy of a yell. She took a step closer, her stride almost predatory, as her fists shook. "I will suck your goddamn fucking kneecaps out of the tops of your shoulders. I will [/i]break off[/i] your goddamn fucking toes and make you eat them. You wanna go, shitlips? You wanna FUCKING GO?! You wanna lose your goddamn fucking nuts, huh? Wanna have me rip off your goddamn FUCKING nuts?"

A shocked silence settled over the parking lot.

The man gaped, pure horror and nausea filling him to the brim as color drained from his visage.

Ti just openly stared, blinking every handful of seconds. He let loose a long whistle. "Woooow…"

Jaz, very calm, very collected… slowly dropped to her knees and bowed. "My mutha fuckin' queen."

"You… Y-you're fucking crazy," the man stuttered, quivers shooting up his legs and rattling against his ribs. He backed away against his own accord, eyes trained on Jamie as if she was a devil clawing her up through the depths of Hell.

And dat's damn hot, Jaz tagged mentally with a barely suppressed grin. Heh--maybe she didn't regret picking up Jamie after all.

Jamie's rage face slowly morphed into a smile, between both the reactions from Jaz and Ti, and watching the blood drain from the man's face. "Ohhh, you don't know the half of it, bud. You wanna get all cozy now? Huh? You wanna stick your nasty ass hand near my mouth again?" she continued, wicked grin on her features as she took another step towards the man in question. "I'll make you regret it."

"H-hey, look. Kid! We didn't--I didn't m-mean…" More and more senseless babbling spilled from him as he backed away even more. He was so occupied with watching Jamie's every move that he failed to monitor his footing and tripped over his own boots. He started scurrying back, his body meeting the glass of the rest stop windows. "J-just stay the fuck back!"

"Yeah, yeah, 'didn't mean any harm.' That's a load of horse shit, and we all know it. One last thing. Don't fuckin' call me 'Kid', you cinderblock skull. I'm twenty goddamn years old," Jamie continued, smile still present. "You do that and I'll gladly stay away."

She turned to look over at Ti. "Did you figure out where the McDonalds was, at least?" she asked nonchalantly, as if she hadn't threatened a man within an inch of his life with physical injury to his nuts, knees, and toes.

"A-alright! Alright! Ma'am! Y-you're a ma'am, okay?!" Franticness was now entering his tone, frozen in place as she addressed the siblings. God--he would never go out and do this kind of shit with James ever again, let alone step foot outside of his house.

Ti perked up and nodded. "Yep! Pretty sure dat dude," he nodded towards James, "Was lyin'. There's a Mickey D's right on down da street! First exit!"

Meanwhile, Jaz stood up from her bowing position and waltzed over to the truck. Humming a light tune, she opened the door to the driver's seat and yanked the keys out of the ignition before pocketing it. "Aye, yo, maybe we oughtta roll out now? I love watchin' Jamie rippin' dis lil bitch a new one 'n all, but I'm bout over dis shit," she said.

"Damn right I am," Jamie agreed with a nod, before taking a step away from the man on the ground. "Oh, thank God. Fries, here I come," she breathed. She jogged lightly back towards Ti, though she noted the blood on the teeth. Yeah that was… going to be interesting to bring up in conversation. Still, she slid the twenty he'd handed her earlier back into his hand.

She turned back to face Jaz as she pocketed the keys from the truck's ignition. "You and me both. What are we gonna do with them, though?" she asked, gesturing towards James and the man that had followed her into the store.

Ti blinked at the twenty Jamie handed him, lost for a moment before memory and logic struck. He uttered a lengthy, "Ooh" under his breath before pocketing the money. Now there was the issue of what to do with this gun… Meh. He'd keep it. "Oh yeah!" He then strolled over to the back of the truck and snagged their map--that would come in handy, figuring their GPS was busted now.

"Man…" Jaz sighed while scratching the back of her head. What were they going to do about these assholes? As much as she didn't have a problem with borrowing Ti's gun and putting a few holes through this cowering dude and his greasy counterpart in the bathroom, that was a tad morally corrupt. Only a little. However, as she looked about the area, her gaze landed on the store once again and, peering through the windows, she caught sight of an employee emerging from the back and approaching the counter, none the wiser.

"Look at dis slack mutha f…" She shook her head, holding a finger up to Jamie and Ti. "Wait here, y'all."

She entered the store, instantly slapping on the wide eyes of a terrified woman and forcing her breaths to devolve into frantic gasps. "O-oh! Oh thank fuckin' God!" She literally threw herself onto the counter, bottom lip trembling, sobs ripping from her lungs, as she reached out desperately for the man's wrists. "H-help! Please, help! Th-those men! They're crazy! Damn fuckin' crazy!" she cried.

The cashier jolted back from her sudden entry, but one look at her vulnerable face had him nodding rapidly, his eyes arguably wider than hers. "It's alright! You're okay! I'll just! I'll just! U-um--"

"POLICE BOY DA FUCKIN' POLICE!"

"GAH! RIGHT!"

Jaz continued to weep and wheeze as he scurried off for the phone, milking out the act until he was out of view. As soon as she was sure he was occupied with the call, the waterworks immediately dried up and she quickly slipped out of the shop. She trapped a fistful of Ti's shirt and dragged him along while hissing at Jamie, "A'ight we gotta go like mutha fuckin' yesterday."