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quickspinner · 4 years

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Killer Combo Ch 7 - The Final Showdown

I sincerely apologize to everyone who prefers short chapters, as this is another really long one. Pace yourselves as necessary, and thank you so much for persevering to the end with me. I'm so grateful for everyone who has read and liked or reblogged or replied, and I hope though the journey is uh, long, you will find it satisfying. You can search *** for the scene breaks if you need to stop and come back.

Kagami, predictably, was not happy when Marinette returned alone, but Juleka’s vindictive smirk when she heard what her brother was doing was enough to convince Kagami to delay any plans of vengeance she might have been making. “I hope he gives that bitch the earful she deserves,” Juleka muttered darkly, and then snorted. “But knowing Luka, he won’t. He’ll be all gentle and patient and she’ll keep arguing for way longer than he should let her before she realizes she might as well be talking to a brick wall.”

“You don’t think,” Marinette began, and then stopped, reaching up to smooth her hair self-consciously, shifting her weight on her feet and feeling like a fool as several pairs of knowing eyes turned her way.

Juleka arched an eyebrow, but her smile was sympathetic. “I definitely don’t think,” she said warmly, reaching out to squeeze Marinette’s shoulder in a move that reminded her strongly of Luka. “Luka’s very perceptive and empathetic. It makes him too gentle sometimes, but he’s no pushover. She might think she has a chance, but he’s been over her for a long time. Even if he hadn’t... met anybody , she wouldn’t get anywhere with him.” She grabbed Marinette’s hand and pulled her towards the dance floor, reaching out her other hand to snag Rose on her way. “Now enough about my stupid brother, we only have like an hour of party left, let’s go have fun.”

Marinette giggled, grabbing Kagami’s arm and pulling her along.

Kagami had offered to let her stay overnight at the mansion, but Marinette had declined in favor of a ride home. She crept into her room as quietly as she could, sent her parents a text to let them know she was home just in case one of them woke up and worried, and went to wash her makeup off and get ready for bed.

Her phone beeped just as she was drying off her face, and she picked it up to find a text from Luka. Just letting you know I made it home. Sorry for leaving so suddenly.

Marinette sighed, and smiled slightly as she answered him. It’s okay, I understand. Did you get everything worked out in the end? She chewed her lip as she sent the message, but she needed to know, and there really wasn’t any good way to ask the question. She finished up with her moisturizer and climbed the stairs up to her bed, wincing at the ache in her feet.

She sat cross-legged on her bed to read his reply. As much as it can be. She’s not happy, but making her happy isn’t my job anymore. She got the message, finally, and that’s all that matters to me.

Before she’d even finished reading that one, another message came in.

I know it’s really late and I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d really like to hear your voice one more time. Is it okay if I call?

Marinette really wanted to hear his voice too. Before she could second-guess herself too much, she hit the call button.

He picked up immediately. “Hey,” he said softly, voice a little rough and tired-sounding but still enough to make her feel warm and remember the soft touch of his lips against hers.

“Hi,” she said shyly, suddenly breathless.

“Marinette,” he sighed, and she had to smile at the way he said her name, like he was relieved and happy and exhausted all at once. “I just wanted to say I am so, so sorry about how everything went down tonight, and also...thank you. I think I got some closure tonight that I really needed, and it was really thanks to you and your friends, and...and I’m just incredibly grateful. And I totally owe you a rain check on the party date because I was having a great time until—” he sighed again. “All that other stuff. Your friends are pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled, picking at the hem of her pants. “They really are. We’ve had our ups and downs, but the ones that have stuck around, they’re really amazing.” She sighed slightly through her nose, brow furrowing in annoyance. “And I’m really sorry you haven’t had the same experience.”

“Well,” Luka said, and the smile in his voice made her smile too, “I got a taste of it tonight. It’s nice to know friendships like that really exist. I mean, I know they do, I’ve had some...still have some, even if they’re far away, but...okay, I’m rambling and I’m keeping you awake and you’re probably just as tired as I am, but I just, um...I wanted to…” He took a deep breath, and went on a little too quickly, “When I kissed you tonight, I wasn’t, I didn’t do anything right and I was kind of overwhelmed and not thinking clearly, but I want you to know I really—”

“Wait,” Marinette said quickly, her heart suddenly pounding. “Wait. I think...Luka, if it’s okay with you, I think I’d rather talk about this in person. Maybe when we’re both a little clearer headed than we are right now?”

“Yeah,” Luka said slowly. “Yeah, okay, I guess that makes sense. So...when can I see you in person?”

Marinette winced, turning and pulling down her schedule. “I have so much to do this week,” she nearly moaned, fisting a hand in her hair and tugging hard.

“Hey,” he said, and something in his voice made Marinette cringe. “It’s okay.”

“No, I want to, I promise I’m not blowing you off, I really want to talk about this with you, it’s just—of course everything always has to happen at once and…ugh, timing. ” Marinette chewed her lip, scanning across the week, trying to find some time. Surely she could spare him ten minutes somewhere...but was the conversation they needed to have something that she really could rush? What was she even doing, why didn’t she just let him say what he wanted to say, why was she...she was…

Hesitating. Why was she hesitating? Marinette chewed her lip and blew out a frustrated breath, forgetting that Luka was still on the phone. She jumped when he spoke again.

“Marinette,” Luka said, his tone gentle, and she made a distracted noise of acknowledgement. “Listen. Don’t sweat it. I know you have your presentation this week and the tournament, right? If you’re busy and you need some space, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. We can settle this afterwards. I’m not going anywhere. Well. Not until we talk, at least.”

Marinette’s eyes landed on the weekend, colored in red and outlined in black. “The tournament,” she said softly. “The championship. We could...we could talk there? Maybe after?”

Luka was silent for a moment, and Marinette heard him take a deep breath. “Is that the best time?” he said cautiously. “Do we really want to have that on our minds?”

“You know what,” Marinette said, beginning to smile. “I think it’s the perfect time. It’s where we met, afterall.”

“Well,” Luka said, and she could tell he was smiling too. “There is a certain poetry to that.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, her smile growing into a grin. “After I’m done kicking your ass in the finals, then.”

“Oh, brave words from the lady with the forty percent win rate against me,” he laughed, and Marinette made a face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Max,” she accused.

“Max is a fun guy,” Luka chuckled. “Not as much fun as you, but you know, he has his moments.”

Why was she so pleased at that, that he preferred her company over Max, ugh she was pathetic. She covered a giggle anyway, but it turned into a yawn.

“I’ll let you go to sleep,” Luka said, amusement clear in his voice. “Good luck this week, Marinette, and I’ll see you this weekend and...we’ll talk.”

“Yes,” Marinette nodded decisively, though he couldn’t see her. “We will.”

***

Two days later and elbow deep in unfinished clothes that were supposed to be runway ready in less than twenty-four hours, Marinette was actually feeling good about her decision to defer her talk with Luka.

Not everyone agreed, however.

“ Girl ,” Alya screeched from Marinette’s floor, where she was hammering rivets into a jacket. Max winced from where he was sitting at Marinette’s desk, pliers in his hand and a spool of jewelry wire next to him. “Why did you do that?”

Marinette sighed, and bit her lip. “Because—”

“Because what? ” Alya demanded.

“Because I need to be the one to say it,” Marinette sighed, as she rearranged the fabric on her sewing machine. “It’s just...it’s something I need to do, Alya. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Oh I understand,” Alya sighed. “I just think it’s silly. You could be making out right now if you’d just let him say his piece.”

“First of all,” Marinette grumbled. “You don’t know that, you’re making assumptions. He could have been about to say he really values my friendship and he doesn’t want anything to change. Second, I have way too much to do this week. I wouldn’t have time for making out even if I did have a hot new boyfriend to do it with. Third, I just...I told you, I need to do it. I need to know that I can put myself out there and tell a boy I like him and not just...let it happen to me.”

“You must have done that lots of times, Marinette, what about all those guys you made out with that last year of high school?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, glancing at Max with a blush, though he was studiously ignoring the conversation, focused on the task in front of him. “It’s not even close to being the same thing.” She felt a little ashamed, actually, of the way she’d used some of those guys, even though they were usually more than happy to be used and she’d never been dishonest with any of them. “This isn’t about just kissing and proving to myself that someone can like me and be attracted to me. It’s not just as simple as asking a cute guy to a party, I just…” She sighed. “It’s the first time I’ve really felt like this since then, with all the butterflies and the fear and the...the…”

“Passion?” suggested Alya smugly, and Marinette rolled her eyes again.

“Whatever. The point is, I just need to be the one to say it, and I want to do it face to face.”

“Well, maybe you’re right and I don’t really get it,” Alya sighed. “It sounds like he’s pretty into you, so it seems like you’re splitting unnecessary hairs. But I guess you do what you have to do, girl.”

“I will,” Marinette said firmly, “And what I need to do now is get these garments finished for my presentation so I can put that to bed and focus on beating my gorgeous potential boyfriend this weekend before I confess my—”

“Yeeees?” Alya teased.

“Feelings,” Marinette finished with a flush. “Look, can we be done talking about this now?”

“Fine,” Alya rolled her eyes and put the hammer down, stretching her fingers. “I’m going to go grab some water, do you guys want some?”

“Yes, please,” Marinette and Max chorused together, and Alya stood up. Before heading to the trap door, she crossed the room to look over Max’s shoulder at the wire he was twisting to match the sketch Marinette had given him.

“Wow, Max, you’re surprisingly good at that,” Alya commented, and Max gave her a look over his glasses.

“I know my way around wires and a pair of pliers, thank you very much,” Max sniffed. “It’s not that different from wiring a circuit board.”

“Well, the next time you need help with something like that, count me in,” Marinette said, frowning as she tried to untangle the mess her bobbin had mysteriously become. “I owe you guys sooooo much for this.”

“I will give your offer due consideration when the time inevitably comes,” Max replied. “Incidentally, do you happen to have another ticket to the show? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“Max, really?” Alya sighed, heading towards the trap door. “You’re going to ask her that now? Have you checked under your piles of nerd crap?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Marinette said, reaching over to grab a decorated box on her desk and rummage through it. “Here you go, Max. Kagami can’t make it so I had one more than I needed anyway.”

“Thank you, Marinette,” Max said, with a grin that would have made her look twice if she hadn’t been so preoccupied.

As it was she barely noticed it, and forgot it entirely until much later, when her presentation was over and the high of achievement and the exhilaration of her first really professional fashion show were finally wearing off and she was about to fall into bed for the night. As she fumbled to plug her phone into the charger, she noticed a text on the screen and paused.

It was from Luka.

You were fantastic up there. Sorry I couldn’t stay long enough to see you after. Congratulations, all the hard work paid off.

Marinette gaped at the phone for a moment. You were there? she texted back, and then berated herself for not checking the time first. He was probably asleep, he must have sent that text hours ago.

Even as she thought it, her phone pinged with a response.

Yeah, I hope that was okay. Tell Max thanks for the ticket. ;)

Marinette gaped again, and then pouted for a moment before hitting the call button.

Luka picked up right away. “Surprise,” he said, laughter in his warm voice.

“Max is a sneak,” Marinette pouted, though she was trying not to smile. “And I’m going to kill him.”

“Max is a sneak,” Luka agreed. “But don’t be mad. I ran into him the other day and asked how you were, and we got to talking, and I let it slip that I really wished I could be there, and he gave me his ticket on the spot. Made me promise not to tell you until after, though. I would’ve stayed to say congrats but I had a gig I had to get to, and...well I didn’t want to make things weird.”

“I’m glad you were there,” Marinette smiled, and then added shyly, “You really think I did well?”

“You did amazing,” he said sincerely, and Marinette felt a thrill that made her wiggle a little in place. “I know a thing or two about stage presence, and you’ve definitely got it. I’m really glad I got to see you present. And...well I can’t claim to know much about fashion, but I really liked what you did.”

A hot flush raced up her face and she slapped a hand over it even though he couldn’t see her.

“Marinette? You okay?”

Marinette made an affirmative noise. “Sorry. I just...that makes me really happy. That you think so. That you liked it. I—” She made a high pitched whine. “I’m not making any sense.”

“It’s late and you’re tired,” Luka chuckled. “It’s fine. I don’t want to keep you up any longer, I just wanted to let you know I was there. Juleka said it was creepy to show up without telling you.”

Marinette giggled. “Well, she maybe has a point. I would have gotten tickets for you and Juleka both if you had asked.”

“Sorry,” Luka sighed, and she heard a thump that she thought might be his head hitting a table. “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just...I knew it was important to you and…I know you needed space and I didn’t want to confuse anything and—” He cut off with a strangled noise and sighed. “Okay, I’m going to tell you good night now and hang up before I dig myself any deeper.”

Marinette had to bite her lip to stop her giggling, “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m really glad you were there, Luka. Really. That...it was important to me, and it’s an important part of me, and I didn’t think about it before but...I’m really glad I got to show you that. Seeing you play on stage, I felt like I really got to see an important side of you that I didn’t know anything about, so...I hope maybe tonight was like that for you.” She bit her tongue, feeling like she wasn’t explaining herself well.

“It was,” Luka said, his voice softening a little in a way that made her shiver. “It really was, and…” He paused, and cleared his throat. “Well. I know you’ve been working hard and I don’t want to keep you up any later. I just wanted to tell you I thought you did great tonight and I’m super impressed, as always. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Sleep,” Marinette repeated, hand still over her face. “Sleep would be good. Maybe for like a week.”

“You’ve really been running hard, huh,” Luka said sympathetically. “Once all this is over, we’ll take some time and just hang out and relax. I’ll play for you.”

“Really?” Marinette perked up.

“Yeah,” Luka chuckled. “Just like that day on the boat.”

“That was nice,” Marinette smiled, finally letting her hand slide down off her face.

“Mm. It really was.”

There was a long pause.

“I should—” she began, just as he said, “You should—” and they both laughed.

“Good night, Marinette,” Luka said at last. “Rest well.”

“Good night, Luka,” Marinette murmured. “See you soon.”

“Soon,” he repeated, and hung up.

A few minutes later her phone beeped with one final text.

Can’t wait to see you this weekend.

Marinette sent back a single pink heart and fell back giggling onto her bed, kicking her feet for a second in a brief burst of energy before she crawled under the covers and fell asleep with a grin on her face.

When Max showed up for practice the next day, she punched him in the arm, and then threw her arms around his neck. “You’re a great friend,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “And I hate you.”

Max just chuckled and patted her back.

***

The morning of the UMSIII Master League Championship, Marinette was a fluttering, nervous wreck. That wasn’t totally unexpected, and her parents put up cheerfully with her clumsiness, absentmindedness, and confusion, giving her gentle encouragement and moving the breakables quietly out of her path. Finally they kissed her goodbye, handed her the bag she’d been about to forget, and promised that they would be in the stands with the rest of her friends.

She leaned her head on the cool metal rail of the subway and tried to breathe. There was a lot on the line today. Marinette was fairly confident she could place, but...she wanted to win. There was a steep drop in the prize value between first and second place and an even sharper drop between second and third. She wanted to do well, yes, but really she wanted to win.

Luka wanted to win too, and that made her stomach twist. She hadn’t seen him in person since the night of the party. Other than their brief conversations, Marinette had been trying not to think too hard about him, to focus on the competition in her practice sessions with Max, but she wasn’t entirely successful. A lot of things had fallen into place for her since she’d seen him on stage. Now she understood how he played to the crowd in his interviews, the way he could project his voice in a crowd, the calm, easy going demeanor he kept up even in the heat of competition. He was used to pressure, he was used to crowds, he was a trained vocalist, and he enjoyed having an audience. Marinette felt like she had a much better picture of him in her mind now, a better understanding of who he was, and everything she knew just made her want to know more.

She was determined to tell him so.

But first she had to get through the tournament. And some small, ugly little part of her was afraid. Would he still want to talk to her if she beat him?

Of course he would. It was ridiculous to think otherwise. It was just a game, after all.

A game with both their dreams on the line.

She almost missed her metro stop.

Marinette swallowed hard as she walked up to the huge stadium and showed her player pass to the guard. She was on her own for the moment; the individual finals would be held in the afternoon and the team competition in the evening, so Max couldn’t come with her. Marinette was the only player in the finals for both the individual and the team championship. Well, and Luka. Technically he was still part of the team, even if he wouldn’t play.

She was escorted to a small lounge area where other players had already begun to congregate. She scanned the room but didn’t see Luka. Marinette wandered back and forth aimlessly, growing more and more restless the longer they were stuck waiting, her thoughts growing scattered and fragmented and her hands starting to shake slightly. She wished she’d brought her sketchbook, or some knitting. Something, anything, to vent her energy on and focus her mind.

A touch on her shoulder made her jump and she whirled around to find Luka behind her, looking surprised and then apologetic, shoulders hunching slightly. “Sorry. I called your name, but…” He shrugged and held out a bottle of water, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Marinette smiled shyly back. “Sorry, I guess I was zoned out.” She took the bottle and twisted off the cap. “Too much energy and nowhere to spend it.” She took a sip, peeking at him around the bottle. He wasn’t wearing his Viperion hoodie, but his old one, with her red stitching at the seams. She focused on the logo on his chest as she lowered the bottle. “New shirt?”

“Yeah,” Luka rolled his eyes. “The league sent it to me. Apparently they don’t want their vintage branding on the livestream tonight, so they asked me to wear the new logo.”

Marinette huffed a quiet laugh. “Naturally.” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “The old one was better.”

“Right?” Luka groaned. “I almost wore it anyway, but…” He shrugged. “Wasn’t worth the fight, to be honest.”

Marinette started to ask why he hadn’t worn his Viperion hoodie, but changed her mind, not sure that she wanted to know the answer. Instead she blurted, “You look good,” and promptly wanted to kick herself. He did look good; the new shirt fit him better than the old one, his hair was styled more deliberately than usual and the color in it looked recently touched up, bright and vibrant. He was freshly shaved and, she was pretty sure, wearing a touch of makeup, probably to keep from looking washed out under the lights. Of course he would consider those things. Was that peach lipstick? It was a good color on him.

Oh God she was staring.

“You do too,” Luka smiled, reaching up to brush her pigtail back behind her shoulder. suddenly he winced and jerked his hand back quickly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—sorry if I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said, catching the hand he was pulling back. “Really, Luka, I don’t mind. I know it’s how you connect. I know you won’t do anything inappropriate, and I don’t mind the rest, so just don’t worry about it.”

Luka relaxed, and she squeezed his hand before letting go of it. “Thanks,” he said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and stopping just in time. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Marinette, who found herself beginning to fidget again. “Are you okay?”

Marinette smiled, but her face felt like wood. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly, and Marinette noticed absently that he was wearing eyeliner. “You don’t look fine,” he observed, and nudged the hand holding the water bottle. “Drink. It’s going to be crazy once things get going. Better to start hydrating now.”

Marinette drank, more because she didn’t feel like arguing than from actually believing she needed it. “How can you be so calm?” she asked with a gusty sigh after she lowered the bottle.

Luka shrugged and flashed a grin. “Don’t forget I’ve done this before. Helps that I was practically raised on stage, so the lights, the effects, none of that really bothers me.” He put a hand on her shoulder and massaged gently. “I’m honestly a little surprised to see you so tense. I didn’t think anything would rattle you after seeing you up on stage before. You owned it and you didn’t look nervous at all.”

“That was fashion,” Marinette hissed, glancing at the other competitors. “And I was busy. I didn’t have time to freak out. Not like this, with all the...the waiting. ” She tugged at her pigtails and resisted the urge to whine. “I just want to get started already! Just—all this—” she flapped her hands, trying to indicate the pent-up energy inside her. “There’s nowhere for it to go.”

“Ah.” Luka glanced away, and then looked at her again. “I don’t know if it would help, but...want to meditate with me? I always try to meditate for at least a few minutes before I have to go on stage. Or into a competition.”

Marinette blinked at him, for a moment and he shrugged. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine, I know it’s a little weird, to think about sitting still when you’re so worked up—”

“No, I—that sounds good.” Marinette glanced around. “But where—”

Luka tipped his head to indicate a direction and Marinette followed him to a corner of the lounge where there was an old, battered, but currently empty sofa. He sat down and Marinette sat next to him. She glanced around a little self-consciously but most of the competitors were focused on their own pre-game rituals. The nervous chatterers were congregated together, fidgeting back and forth as they all talked over each other. Several others had headphones and closed eyes, a couple were pacing, and the only other female competitor in the room was staring at the ground, mumbling with her eyes closed and her weight shifting from foot to foot. No one was paying the two of them any mind at all.

“Everybody’s too worried about their own game to care what we do,” Luka murmured, slipping a guitar pick out of his pocket and rotating it in his fingers. “Don’t worry about them, just focus on you.” He held the pick between his thumb and forefinger and breathed in slowly, and then out, closing his eyes.

Marinette watched him for a moment, then placed one hand over the other in her lap, palms up, and did the same. It took some effort to keep from fidgeting, to force the circumstances from her mind and bring her scattered focus to her breathing and the flow of her energy, but Luka’s calm presence and the slow, regular swell of his ribs moving his arm against hers, helped her settle her mind.

As she breathed, the nervous flutters ebbed. She felt more solidly in her skin than she had all day. The tension was still there, but it was more focused now, less chaotic. She felt worlds better...but a little guilty.

“You shouldn’t be helping me so much,” Marinette murmured, her eyes still closed.

Luka’s shoulder vibrated against hers as he chuckled. “Have you looked at the brackets? Clearly the marketing geniuses have been at work because we don’t face each other until the finals. I want you to be there, not flame out from nerves in your first matchup.” After a moment he added quietly, “And you’re my friend. I can’t see you unhappy and not help. You’ve done a lot for me too, you know.”

Marinette unfolded her hands and fumbled blindly beside her. She found his forearm and slid her hand down to slip her fingers through his and squeezed.

“I’m really glad I met you, Luka,” she whispered. “Whatever happens today, I hope we can...” She hesitated, not wanting to say stay friends, because that wasn’t what she wanted. She opened one eye and peeked at him, and saw his eyes open as well as he smiled at her. His thumb caressed the back of her hand lightly.

“I hear you,” he said softly, and the drop in his voice made her insides quiver pleasantly. She was suddenly extremely aware of the rough skin of his hand enveloping hers, the warmth of where their shoulders pressed together. “I’m glad we met too. I want you to be in my life, no matter what happens today.”

Marinette had to press her lips together to contain her smile. “Yeah...me too.”

Luka glanced at the other players and gently extracted his hand. He took Marinette’s wrist and put her hand back on her own knee before curling his fingers back together and closing his eyes. Marinette understood, folding her hands back together and deepening her breathing again. It wouldn’t do for them to be cuddling too obviously in front of everyone else. There would already be talk, she was sure, if Ladybug and Viperion began dating after the tournament was over, no matter who won.

But before she could think of that, she had to win.

And before she could even think about beating Luka, she had other competitors to worry about. He was right. She needed to focus and not let the situation get the better of her.

She stayed there, meditating alongside Luka, until the handlers came to get the players and walk them through their entrances and the procedures between matches. The sight of the jumbotron overhead and the giant stadium full of currently empty but soon-to-be-packed seats made Marinette’s nerves flare up again. Luka’s hand squeezed her shoulder, bringing her focus back to the moment.

“Hey,” he murmured when she looked up at him. “It’s just another match. The livestream’s just a little more up close and personal than we’re used to.” He grinned at her. “They’re all coming to see Ladybug and Viperion face off.”

Marinette grinned back, and then brought her attention back to the handler explaining the procedure and reiterating the rules.The quarter finals and semifinals would be best two out of three, and the finals best three out of five. Matches would be held simultaneously using the pyrapods set up at ground level, and at the back, an elevated stage contained two pyrapods that would be used for the finals.

None of this was news and Marinette was back to shifting from foot-to-foot impatiently, checking the time. Luka seemed as calm and relaxed as ever, but she could see the tightness beginning around his eyes and knew he was ready to get started too.

Finally they were dumped back in the lounge, and Marinette went to the restroom. She’d done the rest of her routine at home, but she wanted her makeup mask fresh and bright. The ritual of putting it on, dusting the red mask across her eyes and drawing in her spots, calmed some of her resurging nerves, and when she straightened up from the mirror, Ladybug looked back at her.

Ladybug was not going to lose because of stage fright.

Marinette reached back into her makeup bag and hesitated as her hand found her tube of black lipstick. She bit her lip and looked at her reflection again. The championship seemed like a bad time to be making changes, but…

Marinette swapped the black lipstick for red and painted her lips with quick, decisive movements, and then snapped the cap back on with a quiet click. She made sure her pigtails were still tight and secure, tapped her lucky earrings three times, and then zipped up her bag and went back to the lounge, already feeling more confident and ready to compete.

Luka caught her eye immediately when she stepped back inside, and she saw him grin at the change, but then the competitors were being herded out of the lounge and into the tunnel they would take into the arena.

In the chaos, she felt Luka’s hand wrap around hers and squeeze, and quickly let go. The competitors milled around in the tunnel aimlessly, well back from the fog machine spewing smoke near the entrance, until two production assistants dressed in black brusquely took charge and lined them up in a supposedly randomly generated but very important order, warning them to not, under any circumstances, shuffle the order or cross the line before their names were called or move from their place in line. Marinette found herself in the middle of the line, with Luka right beside her. “Random, huh,” Luka chuckled. “Yeah, right.”

“They’re really hyping us up,” Marinette agreed.

“Guess we better not let them down.” Luka and Marinette exchanged a look, and then a fistbump. “See you in the finals, Ladybug,” he grinned.

“I’ll be there,” she grinned back. “You better not stand me up, Viperion.”

“Never.”

“Oh my God, get a room,” muttered the guy on Marinette’s other side. “You two are disgusting.”

Marinette flushed, but Luka just chuckled again. “Aww, Pharaoh, you know I love beating you too, it’s just not in the cards today, man.”

Pharaoh scowled over Marinette’s head at him. “Kiss my ass, snake boy.”

“Oh, when Ladybug here’s done kicking it you’re gonna need somebody to,” Luka said, winking at Marinette. “‘Fraid I’ll be busy, though. Tagger can do it for me, he’ll be free.”

“I hate you so much,” Tagger, Luka’s first round opponent, grumbled from down the line. “Fucking cocky bastard.”

Marinette giggled, and Luka nudged her shoulder playfully with his. She looked up into his face and she could see the thrill of competition beginning to get to him, in his pirate grin and the sparkle in his eyes, and the challenge there sparked Marinette’s own competitive spirit.

“He’s not wrong,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I thought the very same thing to myself during our first match.” Luka feigned being struck in the heart.

“Betrayal!” he laughed. “I’m not cocky, I’m right. It’s not boasting if you can back it up.”

“You can back it up all the way to second place.” Marinette poked him in the chest and he grabbed her hand, leaning down over her with a grin.

“Don’t make me break out Max’s win percentages again.”

“The numbers can’t help you now,” Marinette shot back, pulling her hand free. She stepped up close to him and looked up into his face, shoulders back and hands on her hips. “We’re starting with a clean slate today and all that matters is here and now. I hope you enjoyed winning all those matches, Viperion, because it’s only going to make it sweeter when I finally take you down.”

Luka bit his lip, and Marinette quirked her eyebrow a little higher, and then Pharaoh coughed, making them both jump. “We’re still here, you know,” he said sardonically as Marinette and Luka turned away from each other, Luka clearly fighting a grin, pink coloring the high points of his cheeks, and Marinette turning a brilliant red that she could only hope would fade before she was announced.

Mercifully the announcer began calling names, distracting everyone as a murmur of excitement went down the line.

Suddenly there was no one in front of Marinette and her heart began to pound.

“Ladybug!” the announcer roared, and the crowd erupted into a deafening roar that startled her. Marinette wasn’t given time to hesitate, though; the production assistant planted a hand in the middle of her back and shoved her forward into the fog. For a moment she was blind and confused, but then she stumbled out of the fog and into the bright lights of the stadium. Marinette quickly pasted on a wide smile and raised her arms to wave with both hands to the crowd, though her knees felt like jelly at the sight of so many people and her own promo picture on the jumbotron, smirking at the camera in full makeup and a challenging posture.

Somehow she made it across the field to her mark next to Pharaoh, and then the announcer was calling Viperion, and she turned her head, clapping automatically as Luka emerged from the fog and waved, looking completely at ease with his usual relaxed smile as he sauntered over to stand next to her. Part of the stadium started up a chant for him and he waved again, ducking his head slightly. Suddenly a competing chant of Ladybug! Ladybug! came up and Luka nudged her with a grin. She raised a slightly shaky hand to wave back, and then Luka made a settle down gesture with his hands. Marinette copied him and the chants died down so the announcer could call the next player.

Marinette curled her fingers together, willing herself not to take Luka’s hand or grab onto his sleeve. Beside her, Luka folded his arms, and she wondered if he was fighting the same urge to touch her. He glanced at her and then quickly away, and her cheeks warmed, and she quickly aimed her suddenly much more sincere smile at the crowd, waving again.

“You’ve got this, Ladybug,” Viperion leaned down to whisper when the announcer dismissed them to their pods. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

“Worry about yourself,” Ladybug grinned and winked. “Like you said, I’ve got this.”

Viperion grinned and shook his head as they separated.

Marinette was still nervous but smiling as she stepped into her pod and picked up her headset. “Viperion’s going to be so disappointed when I beat you,” Pharaoh said as soon as the channel was active. “Poor little Ladybug’s about to get squashed.”

Marinette snorted. “I hope your game is more interesting than your trash talk,” she snickered. “If that’s as creative as you can get this is going to be really boring.” Pharaoh spluttered and Marinette grinned as the countdown began to blink. The controller in her hands felt like a part of her by now, and she bounced on her toes a little, eager for things to finally begin.

It wasn’t easy; crappy trash talk aside, Pharaoh was a highly ranked player and skilled enough to be a challenge. It was a perfect first match for her, actually, because she had to think to beat him and once her mind was focused and fully immersed in the game, she overcame the few mistakes she’d made early on. She was grinning broadly as she stepped out of the pod and raised her arms to acknowledge the cheers that followed when the announcer boomed out her name as the winner. Even as she did, though, she was looking for the leaderboard on the giant screen above them. At first she saw only her own flushed and happy face, but then the leaderboard reappeared, Viperion’s name blinking and then advancing to the next level.

“Yes!” Marinette squealed, jumping up and down in place. She whipped her head towards Luka’s pod and watched him emerge. He looked up immediately just as she had, and punched the air and looked back at her with a broad grin. They both stood and watched as one by one the other players turned red or blinked green and advanced.

Like Kagami’s party, like her presentation and fashion show, everything seemed to go by in a whirl and a blur. Months of preparation and planning and practice and the slow-motion waiting of the morning gave way to a heart-pounding, adrenaline-pumping whirl as she faced down match after match, dominating some and barely squeaking by others. Before she knew it, she was staring up at the jumbotron while the crowd screamed and the announcer cried, “And this is what we’ve all been waiting for, this is what we all came here to see! The final matchup in the Master League Championship will be! Ladybug! Versus! Viperioooooooon!”

Marinette raised her arms and waved with both hands again as the crowd cheered then she was being ushered off the field, back into the tunnel and then to the backstage area to wait while the runners up duked it out for third and fourth place and the crew made sure everything was set up for the final.

Marinette stared up at the steps to the stage and felt herself start to shake. She didn’t even notice Luka speaking at her side until he took her arm and turned her to face him.

“Marinette, are you okay?” he asked, the grin quickly dropping from his face as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” she said, trying to smile. “I’m f-fine.”

“You’re pale as a ghost.” Luka’s expression was grave and worried and he pulled her over to a chair and pushed her into it. “Sit. Breathe, Marinette. Are you dizzy?”

“I’m fine,” Marinette said, trying to take his advice and slow her breathing. “I’m okay. I just...I need a second.”

She felt Luka move away, but he was back in moments, kneeling in front of her to press a bottle of water into her hand. “Drink,” he ordered, helping her sit up. “Look at me.” He put his fingers under her chin and gently tipped it up so he could look into her eyes. “You’re sure you’re okay? Do you need the medic?”

“No,” Marinette said, taking a deep breath before lifting the water to her trembling lips. “I’m all right, Luka.” She drank and then sighed. “That was just really intense.” She shot a sardonic smile up at him. “It felt really good though.”

Luka grinned as he took her hand between both of his and rubbed it gently. “It’s a rush, no doubt.”

Marinette took another drink and mumbled weakly, “Gonna be even better when I beat you.”

Luka laughed softly and leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. Something about that touch was very comforting and she leaned into it. “I’m gonna give you a fight, I hope you know that,” Luka told her. “I’m not going to just hand it to you because you’re—” He paused, and Marinette back to look at him. He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, and Marinette wasn’t sure what might have happened if the production assistants hadn’t come looking for them just then. Luka stood up quickly, turning away from her for a moment, and Marinette put a hand over her chest, feeling the frantic flutter of her heart against her palm.

“Head in the game, Ladybug,” Marinette murmured to herself before she shoved up out of her chair, shaking out her limbs and noting that at least her hands weren’t trembling anymore.

It was time. The handlers lined them up shoulder to shoulder, in front of a fog-covered arch similar to the one on the field.

Luka caught her hand and Marinette let him lace their fingers together. His hold was tighter than she expected and she glanced up at him. That competition spark was in his eyes and she could see the tension across his shoulders. He really was pumped up for this.

He let go of her hand before they walked out together through the fog, waving at the cheering. The lights were hotter and brighter on the stage and Marinette’s nerves increased. She turned to shake hands with Luka and met his eyes, feeling like she was standing outside of her body, but simultaneously hyper aware of his touch and the blue of his eyes and the quirk of his smile before his hand slid away and they each turned to get into their pyrapods.

Marinette came back to herself a bit when the pod slid closed behind her, shutting out the lights and the noise. She became aware of how fast she was breathing and made an effort to slow it down before she picked up her headset and put it on.

“Hanging in there, Bug?” Luka asked, and though his voice was teasing she knew he was checking on her.

“You wanted it,” she replied, “I’m gonna bring it.”

“Show me what you got, Ladybug,” he chuckled, and Marinette grinned, pleased that he remembered after all this time. “I can take it.”

The countdown flashed on the screen, and Marinette took one last deep breath. “It’s been a long time since that first match,” Marinette pointed out with a smile. “I’m not the same newbie you played back then.”

“I know,” he said, and she could see his pirate grin in her mind (and she was kind of glad she couldn’t see it projected on the big screen outside; at that magnitude it might actually kill her). “I can’t wait.”

Once they started playing, there was no time to think about anything but the game.

Luka won the first match, and Marinette couldn’t help her sigh, annoyed with herself. She’d been nervous and jumpy in the beginning and it had cost her. She and Luka were so evenly matched at this point that both knew they couldn’t give an inch or make a single mistake. She was going to have to do better.

“It’s just the first match,” she heard Luka say over her headset, and she wasn’t sure if it was meant to comfort her or steady him.

“I never thought it would be easy,” Marinette replied, and then smiled. “So let’s give the people the show they came for.”

“You know it,” he laughed.

The next match was closer but Luka won that one too, and Marinette bit her lip hard, fighting the churning feeling in her stomach. If she lost the next one, that was it; she couldn’t afford to lose any more.

Luka groaned as the third match ended. “Man, how do you do that. I was sure I had you there.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Marinette replied, putting down the controller and shaking out her hands. They trembled slightly from the close call; he really had almost had her, and that would have been the end.

“You really are,” Luka chuckled. “Playing you is never boring, that’s for sure. Okay, just one more match to go.”

“Oh, don’t count your trophies before they’re in the case,” Marinette muttered, narrowing her eyes though a smile tugged at her mouth. “No way I’m letting you take it that easily.”

“We’ll see,” Luka said, and then the countdown started again.

The fourth match turned out to be an easy win for Marinette; Luka misjudged his timing early on and Marinette gave him no time to recover.

Marinette had to take a few more deep breaths as they prepared for the fifth and final match. Her stomach felt like jelly but her hands were steady. One more. She just had to beat him one more time. Either way, all of this would be over soon. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that so she pushed it aside, needing all her focus for the game.

It was close, it was so close. Both of them had just a sliver of health left and Marinette was starting to panic. She’d managed to deflect his first venom strike, but the fight had gone on long enough that the ability had recharged and she hadn’t been able to dodge a second time. He didn’t even have to land another attack; if he held her off long enough, he would win with the recurring damage from the venom strike. She needed to take him out, but he kept interrupting her attacks, taking low level damage from her defensive moves to prevent her from getting a combo attack together. He was gambling that he could hold out until the venom strike wiped out the last of her health bar, and it was a bet he was going to win if Marinette couldn’t get off a decent attack.

She bit her lip and tried to think. His armor has always been his weak point; she just needed to get one killer combo off and he’d be finished. Luka knew it, too. If he failed to interrupt her even once she’d take him out. Every time he attacked her directly, though, he took damage from her shields and counterattack. He could keep gambling on his health to hold out until the venom strike, or if he timed it just right, he could get his stun attack off and freeze her. If he could get the move off, she’d be held just long enough for the venom strike to finish her.

But he couldn’t interrupt her attacks while he was charging the ability. If he tried it, and she was fast enough...she’d have to be so fast. It would have to be bug bombs, they were the fastest, and they should be enough. She’d have to be ready and watching, and...

Will he still want to be with me if I beat him? Or will I just be another girl that ruined his dreams?

The thought was both terrifying and unwelcome but even as it hit her, she saw Viperion draw back and begin to charge a glowing ball between his hands. Marinette had no time to deliberate, no time for hesitation. Her fingers moved and her mech exploded into action. She executed the attack and dropped the controller, grabbing her hair with her hands as she watched.

The stun left Viperion’s hands—and her bug bombs landed. Even as her mech froze in place, Viperion went down in a series of dramatic explosions.

The screen flashed GAME OVER. It flashed up a picture of her mech with the word WINNER over and over.

“Holy sh—,” she heard Luka whisper, but the channel cut off.

She won.

Numbly she reached up and took off her headset as the pod door slid open behind her.

She stepped out shakily, looking up uncomprehendingly at the crowd.

Across from her, Luka’s pod door was sliding open. The second there was room, Luka exploded out, leaping out with one of his deafening whoops as he caught her up in a bearhug that nearly took the breath from her. He swung her around.

“That was amazing,” he shouted, nearly in her ear to be heard over the crowd. “I thought there was no way you could get an attack off fast enough, but you knew—you knew I was going to do it, didn’t you, you were ready, you’re so incredible—”

“Luka,” Marinette gasped, and laughing, Luka set her down on her feet.

Before Marinette could do more than gasp in a breath, he had ducked down and—well she wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but suddenly she shrieked as he ducked his head under her leg and somehow managed to lift her onto his shoulders despite her flailing. He caught her hands and steadied her, and then let go of one hand to pump his fist in the air and cheer for her. Marinette kept a death grip on his other hand but she managed to smile and reach up to wave at the crowd, letting out a breathless laugh once the shock wore off. The crowd was cheering and her face was on the jumbotron, smiling but still looking more stunned than victorious. Luka turned in a slow circle so she could wave at the whole crowd until her arm was sore.

It took her a minute to realize the announcer was trying to get her attention. “Ladybug, you are the Ultimate Mecha Strike III regional champion! Congratulations! How do you feel right now?” A slightly hysterical giggle escaped her at the way he had to hold the microphone up above his head to catch her answer.

“I feel amazing, but my day isn't over yet,” she laughed.

“That’s right, we’ll see you as part of Team Lucky Charm in the team competition later tonight! We’ll be looking forward to that. Viperion, you and Ladybug have had quite the rivalry going on and you were heavily the favorite to win coming into this event. How do you feel about taking second place tonight?”

“I can’t be sore about a loss like that,” Luka laughed. “Of course I wanted to win, but—” He shook her head. “You can’t deny that was brilliant.” He patted Marinette’s leg on his shoulder. “Congratulations, Ladybug. The best player definitely won today.”

“All right, look for more exclusive interview content with Ladybug and Viperion on the blog later tonight,” the announcer said into the microphone, looking up into the crowd. “We’re going to take a short recess to get things ready here and then we’ll be back to bring you the Master League team championship. “Congratulations again, Ladybug and Viperion.”

He gestured them back towards the arch, and Luka carried Marinette back through it, both of them waving at the crowd as they went.

Marinette’s legs felt like jelly as she scrambled down from Luka’s shoulders, and he held her elbows as she swayed slightly, and when she was steady he hugged her tight. “Congratulations.”

“You’re not mad?” she asked softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

Luka curled a finger under her chin and tipped her face up so that she was looking at him more directly. “I’m not mad,” he promised, and the soft smile he gave her and the gentle look in his eyes made her believe him. “I’ll be disappointed, probably, tomorrow. I’ll have to scale back my plans. But that’s okay. I took a chance and it didn’t work out in my favor. You played your best. No regrets here. I’m so happy for you, too, and impressed, and…” he paused, and took a deep breath. “I’m definitely not mad.” His hand moved up to cup her cheek, and his thumb brushed over her face for a moment.

“Viperion, Ladybug! Press room, let’s go.”

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, but Luka just chuckled and put a hand on her arm. She went with him a little numbly until they were separated for the post-game interviews. Marinette wasn’t sure anything she said was coherent, but she had enough presence of mind to work in a mention of the bakery and her fashion business, so hopefully it wasn’t a total loss.

“I’m sure you did great,” Luka told her as they walked out.

“I hope so,” Marinette sighed, putting a hand against her forehead and flapping her hoodie to get some air under it. “But it’s over now, so no point in worrying about it.”

“Yeah,” Luka smiled, and then nudged her shoulder with his arm. “I guess you better go. You’re not done yet, remember?”

“Yeah,” Marinette nodded, turning to face her. “But...you’re going to stay, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Luka grinned. “I’ll be cheering you on, no fear. And...I’ll be here after. Assuming you still want to talk?”

“I do,” Marinette said quickly, blushing.

“Okay then. You go get ready and find Max, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Marinette whispered, and rose on her toes to quickly kiss his cheek before following a production assistant with a clipboard back to the player lounge.

Max nearly knocked her over in his enthusiasm as soon as she walked in, and she clung to the back of his hoodie, laughing incredulously. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered.

“I believe the evidence is irrefutable,” Max pointed out, and Marinette rolled her eyes, pushing him away.

“You changed your lipstick,” Max observed as she looked up at him, and Marinette’s fingers flew to her mouth.

“Oh, I forgot. I can—I can go change it back, if you’re afraid it’ll jinx us—” She knew how Max would react as soon as she said the words and pouted while he snorted with laughter.

“I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think the color of your lipstick will be the deciding factor,” Max snickered, and Marinette shoved him, making him stagger.

“Jerk,” she muttered.

“I bet Luka liked it,” Max observed smugly, and Marinette’s face flamed red.

“We’re not going to win this tournament if I break your arm before it starts,” she threatened, punching Max (lightly, as she knew her skinny friend bruised easily) in the arm.

“I’m sure Luka would comfort y—ow!”

The waiting dragged on again but at least this time she had Max to talk to and strategize with. Once they walked out of the stupid fog tunnel, the whirl began again. It wasn’t any easier, Marinette found, but this time it was Max, confident in his calculations and their abilities, who was her steadying influence. She had more leeway, too, with Max there, they could cover for each other's mistakes. It felt like only moments before they were ushered into the backstage area, waiting to face their final opponents. Marinette felt a bit shaky and weak in the knees again from the rush, but this time she sat herself down and breathed through it while Max paced, muttering strategy and calculations to himself.

Someone cleared their throat beside her and Marinette looked up to find Luka standing there. Now he was wearing his Viperion hoodie, his face made up in a very good approximation of the mask Marinette had put on him when they played together, and he grinned widely at Marinette’s staring eyes. “Surprise.”

Marinette sputtered for a moment, leaping to her feet as Max reversed his pacing and came over. “What are you—how did you even get back here?”

Luka shrugged, still grinning. “I’m on the team roster so I’m cleared to be here. I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he said, addressing them both though his eyes kept coming back to Marinette. “Not that you need it. I um, I hope this is okay.” He gestured vaguely at himself, and Marinette shut her gaping mouth with a snap. “I didn’t feel right wearing it while we were going head to head, but I just...I wanted to be here and support you guys as much as I could.” He held out his hand to Max, though he sent a worried-looking glance at Marinette, who couldn’t seem to move.

“Absolutely,” Max said, stepping forward to meet Luka’s fistbump as if he didn’t notice Marinette was suddenly paralyzed next to him. “You’re a part of this team, and it wouldn’t feel right doing this without you.”

Luka shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t do that much.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open again, this time in outrage, but Max beat her to it. “Don’t conflate the magnitude of the effort with its importance,” he told Luka, reaching out to pat his arm awkwardly. Luka’s eyes flicked to Marinette for a moment and she could see his amusement, though he kept a straight face. “Without your assistance we would never have finished the tournament in such an advantageous position for the finals,” Max continued, drawing his hand back to adjust his dark glasses. “We are indeed grateful and your position as a teammate is by no means honorary. I hope when we emerge victorious, you will join us in the awards ceremony.”

“Oh, I—” Luka looked thrown, but Marinette nodded enthusiastically, catching his arm and squeezing it.

“Max is right. You belong up there with us.” She aimed a reassuring smile at him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

The tension left Luka’s shoulders and he started to say something, but he was cut off.

“Team Lucky Charm!” the man with the clipboard shouted without actually looking at them. “Prep for entry. Go up the stage steps but do not cross the yellow line until you’re announced.”

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, and her whole body tensed. Once again she put a hand over her wildly beating heart and tried to breathe. One more time. She just had to face the lights and the screaming one more time.

Luka’s hand covered hers on his arm and Marinette realized she was digging her fingers into his sleeve. “Hey,” he said, gently detaching her fingers from his sleeve. “You’ve got this. Just like before, right? Own it.” He drew her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips lightly. Warmth spread from her fingers down her arm and through her body, pooling in her face and stomach. “Come on, before Max leaves you behind,” Luka said, letting go of her hand and placing his on her lower back, pressing gently until she began to move. He walked with her to the bottom of the stage’s metal stairs behind Max, who was marching forward with determination, confident that the numbers were on their side and determined not to be swayed by something as illogical as stage fright.

Marinette paused at the bottom of the stairs, Luka’s hand still warm on her back, her heart beating wildly in her throat.

“Remember,” Luka soothed from behind her. “All you have to do is get across the stage and it doesn’t matter how. Once you’re in the pod you’ll forget everything else, just like before. Besides,” he grinned. “They’re just people. You’re the champion.”

Marinette turned impulsively and hugged him tight. “Thank you,” she muttered, not quite daring to press her face into his chest. Luka’s hands went to her shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you for everything today.

“You’ve got this,” he repeated, sliding his hands down to her arms and shifting her gently back until she stepped up onto the first step, and once her eyes were level with his it became a little easier to breathe in the face of his calm confidence. “Whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen, right? So just get out there and play.” He grinned. “Good luck, Ladybug.”

Marinette felt an answering smile growing on her face.

“Marinette!” Max called from where he was waiting near the top of the stairs. “Hurry up!”

Marinette looked up at Max as Luka let go of her, but she turned back quickly, grabbed Luka’s face in her hands, and pressed her lips hard to his. He made a startled noise, and when she would have pulled back his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, prolonging the kiss as he swayed after her. Max hissed her name again from the top of the stairs and Luka let her go, breathing hard, something kindling in his blue eyes that made her flush and grin stupidly back at him.

Then Max was grabbing her arm and hauling her, stumbling, back up the stairs with him. “The sooner you two have that talk, the better,” he muttered as they went up the last few steps together, Marinette trying to contain the stupid grin that kept wanting to break out on her face. "May I remind you we have a competition to win? The sooner it’s over, the sooner you two can go make out in a supply closet.”

“Max!” Marinette whisper-shouted in horror, and Max just grinned.

“Win first,” he told her, adjusting his horseshoe pendant. “Kisses later.”

Before she could retort, the announcer roared out, “Team Luckyyyyyy Chaaaarm!” and there was no more time to think about anything besides the bright lights and roaring crowd, and then the blink of the countdown and the hard plastic of the controller against her palms.

***

Luka was waiting when Marinette came flying down the stairs, a laughing Max following in her wake.

This time she leapt into his arms, making him stagger, and her feet never touched the ground as he laughed and spun her around. He bounced her a couple of times before she let her feet drop to the floor and gave him enough room to share a fistbump and back-slapping hug with Max.

Then everything was a whirl again, as all three of them were ushered to the press room for interviews and soundbites, and Marinette wasn’t sure whether she managed to get out anything coherent or not. She and Max both kept a hold on Luka, dragging him into the interviews with them, and they presented as a team. Luka’s experience bailed them out a couple of times when unexpected questions gave them pause, and his hand on her back was steadying when she started to stammer. Marinette paused and took a breath and steadied her voice before answering the next question.

“You guys did great,” Luka murmured when they were finally released, and then there was another flood of bodies on them, and Alya was screaming in her ear and Max’s mother was screaming in his and then Kim wrapped his arms around both Max and Mrs. Kante just as Marinette’s dad did the same to her and Alya, and for a few moments it was a fight to breathe. Marinette saw a flash of Juleka’s purple hair and heard the Captain’s voice boom but everyone was talking at once and Marinette was too overwhelmed to focus on any of it.

Finally, the families were ushered back out to the stands with instructions to be back in their seats in forty-five minutes for the official awards ceremony. As the room began to clear out, leaving the top players milling around with varying expressions of elation and exhaustion. Marinette looked around and found Luka. He was looking right at her, and when their eyes met he tipped his head slightly and indicated the doors. Marinette nodded, heart suddenly in her throat, and Luka flashed her a quick grin before turning away.

“Max,” Marinette whispered watching Luka slip out of the doors, “What are my odds?”

“The human heart is impossible to calculate, Marinette,” Max said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Although that kiss would argue for a positive response.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly. “No matter what happens, I support you one hundred percent.”

Marinette’s brain was already humming, giving her a list of excuses and reasons why it would be better to put this off, starting with the looming awards ceremony and moving on from there, but Max’s hand on her shoulder and Kagami’s words in her mind got her moving forward. No more hesitation.

Marinette wormed her way through the bodies between her and the door and slipped out. She nearly collided with Luka, who was clearly waiting for her. He flashed her a grin and caught her hand, tugging her down the hallway.

“Luka, where are we going?” Marinette hissed as he walked quickly, pulling her along.

“Somewhere we can talk,” he told her, keeping his voice quiet. “Just don’t make too much noise, okay?”

Marinette frowned. “We better not really end up in a supply closet.”

“What?” Luka nearly choked trying to muffle his laughter. “No, I promise, I can do better than that. My mom’s played this arena a couple of times, I know my way around.”

“But—” Marinette began, but then closed her mouth as Luka opened the door to a stairwell and started up it. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be up here,” she whispered as Luka checked the floor number and peeked through the window of the door.

“Nope,” he grinned, opening the door and motioning her through. “Do you trust me?”

She did, so she went through. “We’re not going to the roof this time, are we?” she asked skeptically, and Luka chuckled.

“Not this time.” She followed him down a dimly lit hallway and did her best not to squeal in incredulous dismay as he jimmied a door lock with a credit card.

“All the security on the entrances, and crap locks up here,” he said, swinging the door open. “Typical.”

“I didn’t realize you were a cat burglar in your spare time,” Marinette muttered as he took her hand and drew her inside what turned out to be some kind of private viewing lounge. She could see through the big windows down into the stadium, and the room was scattered with couches and cocktail tables.

“Nah,” Luka laughed quietly through his nose, slipping his wallet back into his pocket. “I’m a pirate.”

Marinette looked at him, and he winked at her with that grin, and she couldn’t help breaking into giggles. “You are, aren’t you,” she laughed, covering her mouth. Luka snickered with her, and for a moment they could only stand there trying to stifle their laughter. Luka made no move to turn the lights on, probably to keep anyone from noticing that the room was occupied, but there was enough light from the windows that they didn’t need it, and eventually their laughter died down, and they were left just looking at each other.

Luka cleared his throat, pulling two bottles of water from the pockets of his hoodie. He held one out to her and she took it gratefully, suddenly aware she was parched.

“I feel like you’ve been taking care of me all day,” Marinette said, stifling more slightly hysterical giggles, and Luka grinned at her.

“Sorry. Big brother thing I guess. Or...well, maybe not,” he blushed and looked away. “I just know you’ve been pushing yourself a lot lately, and today was…” He blew out a breath and shook his head with a grin. “A lot. It can really take it out of you if you’re not taking care of yourself, so...sorry if I’ve been pushy.”

Marinette smiled at him over the rim of her water bottle as he reached to twist the cap off his own. “I didn’t mi—whoa, are you okay?” she reached out to steady him as he suddenly fumbled it, spilling water over his hands.

“Fine,” he said, a little too quickly, shaking the water off his hand without looking at her. “I’m fine.” He took a drink and then coughed, and Marinette pounded his back, concerned.

“Geeze, slow down,” she said, torn between amusement and exasperation. “Maybe somebody ought to be taking care of you.”

He coughed through an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry. God, you always catch me off guard.”

Marinette blushed, though she didn’t understand exactly what he meant. Getting control of himself he added quickly, “Congratulations. You and Max both did amazing. I think I screamed myself hoarse cheering you on.”

Marinette hunched her shoulders slightly with a pleased smile. “You did really great too. I can’t wait to watch the replays, I heard you destroyed Desperada in the second round.”

Luka winced. “Yeah, that was rough, our skills just…” He shook his head. “She’s an amazing player with what she’s got but she’s basically never beaten me because of the way our stats stack up. She’s done so well, I hated for her to go down like that, but…” He shrugged and grinned. “I did what I had to do. Wasn’t going to miss going up against you in the final.”

Marinette grinned back, and then dropped her gaze, a silence falling between them that threatened to become awkward if one of them didn’t find a way to start. Determined that it would be her, Marinette began in a rush. “Um. Well I wanted to—we haven’t really talked, a-about, and we said we would, and I know maybe it might seem like we don’t need to, and, well this might not actually be the best time but if we wait for the perfect moment it’ll never happen, and I know we, uh, before, and then tonight, and so maybe we don’t need to but I just, I hate it when there are all these misunderstandings because people don’t talk and we should talk and—stop laughing!”

“Sorry,” Luka said, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth as he continued to chuckle. “I can’t help it. I’m happy and you’re really cute.”

“Damn it,” she hissed, reaching up with both hands to pull on her pigtails in frustration, “I’m so bad at this!”

“You’re doing fine,” Luka said, taking the bottle of water from her and setting both hers and his on one of the tables. He stepped closer and put both hands on her shoulders, and rubbed lightly. “I can go first if you’d rather.”

Marinette groaned and buried her face in her hands, suddenly mortifyingly close to tears. She was being an idiot. He’d kissed her, and let her kiss him, and acted like he wanted to keep kissing her, and with the texts during the week, and the way he’d been smiling at her all night, and he came to her fashion show, and bringing her up here and the way he was acting now, he really couldn’t be more clear, so why was she still so terrified?

“Marinette,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate, “Listen, I think you’re—”

“No!” she yelled, throwing out her hands and stepping back from him, breaking his hold on her shoulders. “No, I have to do this, please.”

God, she was going to ruin everything, he must think she was insane. There was no way that she could explain to him the utter train wreck that had been her years-long crush-obsession with Adrien Agreste, all the things she’d said and completely failed to say, all the time she’d spent analyzing their least little interactions, all the times she’d practically stalked him only to lose her courage and lie at the last minute, until finally, finally, the words passed her lips in a jumbled wreck and were met with—

She peeked one eye open and could see that Luka was looking at her with concern. His eyes were blue and not green, his hair dark and not blond, and the expression on his face was concern and empathy and not blank confusion.

It wasn’t the same. She could do this. It wouldn’t be the same. It wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same.

“Are you sure?” Luka said hesitantly. “If it’s this hard for you, then—I mean I thought you’d know by now that I—but you don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for, you know that, right?”

“No, it’s not that, and it’s not you, it’s me, and I need to deal with it. Please, Luka,” Marinette added desperately. She needed to put this ghost to rest and this was the only way she knew how.

“Okay. Okay, Marinette.” He reached up and took her hands, tugging them gently away from her face and then pulling her over to sit on one of the small couches. “I’m listening. Do what you need to do.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, slumping back for a minute. “It’s just, the last time I did something like this it...it didn’t go so well and I know this is different, I do, but it’s...it’s hard. But I want to. I want to do it. I...I kind of need this, Luka.”

“Okay.” Luka slid a little closer, his hands still wrapped around hers. “I hear you. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Right,” Marinette whispered, half to herself. “Okay.” Luka squeezed her hands and she realized they were shaking. She needed to get this over with before she went completely to pieces. Why did he always have that effect on her?

No.

Adrien had that effect on her.

Luka—Marinette forced herself to raise her eyes to Luka’s, and saw only warmth and encouragement there. She straightened and put her shoulders back and took a breath to steady herself, though the shaking didn’t stop.

“I r-really like you, Luka,” she began, wincing slightly at the stutter and feeling her lips begin to tremble too. “You’ve been a wonderful teammate and a good f-friend, but you’re—” She swallowed hard; this was too close, too close to the words she’d used back then, but it was too late, she had to keep going. “You’re so much more than a friend to me,” she went on in a rush. “At least, I—I want you to be. S-so maybe, if you, um, if you want to, maybe we could go out. Sometime. On a date. A real date, not a just-friends date.” She squeezed her eyes shut and looked down quickly, face burning, suddenly feeling totally inept and like a complete fool and what had she been thinking—

“Yeah.”

Marinette looked up. “What?” Luka was grinning broadly, and he looked oddly...proud. Of her?

Maybe he really was as perceptive as Juleka said.

Shit he was talking, she should listen.

“I said yes. Yes, hell yeah, I’d love to go out with you.”

Marinette blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Luka laughed at the look on her face. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Smart, sassy, gorgeous, tough, incredibly brave, why wouldn’t I go out with you? Do you really think I’m that big an idiot?”

She gaped at him like a fish.

“Can it be my turn now?” Luka asked, when she didn’t find anything to say, and she nodded dumbly, not entirely sure her soul was still inhabiting her body.

Luka leaned toward her and gently framed her face in his hands. “Marinette, these last few months have been the best I’ve had in a long time and you’ve been a huge part of that, as an opponent and a friend and...honestly the more time I spend with you the more amazing you are to me. I know there’s probably still a lot we don’t know about each other, but I want to. I want you to know me, and I want to know you. All of you. I want to be an expert in Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette had to giggle at that, slapping her hand over her mouth in horror at the high-pitched girly sound of it. Luka’s grin widened as he shook his head and pulled her hand away from her mouth, threading his fingers through hers and lowering their hands to his lap. “Don’t cover it up, it’s so pretty,” he told her, and his slow grin set off an entirely different panic as he tipped her chin up with his free hand, brushing his thumb lightly across her lips. “I was right about the red,” he said, and when did his face get so close, oh no, but also yes, but wait was this too soon or should she—but she wanted to and if he wanted to then that was good enough, right? ”Can I kiss you now?”

“Okay,” she said shakily, and he leaned in slowly, watching her face.

“You sure?” he said, pausing and sitting back a bit. “You don’t look like you—”

As she stared at Luka frowning with concern because he thought she didn’t want to kiss him, there was almost an audible snap in her head as the past settled back where it belonged and the now became sharp and clear. What the hell was she doing?

Marinette grabbed the front of Luka’s hoodie and dragged him forward. “Get over here,” she ordered, though the breathiness in her voice took a lot of the force out of it. It was enough, though, Luka closed the distance with a desperate little noise and their lips met once, twice, three times in hard, passionate kisses, before finally settling together into something softer but no less heated. The hand under her chin slid up to flatten along the side of her throat, and then slid farther back to curl around the back of her neck, Luka’s thumb brushing her jaw as he tilted her back. He was kissing her like—like—

Like he really did like her as much as she liked him, like he meant all those things he said to her, like he’d been thinking about it for a while now—

And he was really good at it, she acknowledged dizzily as his lips began coaxing hers to open.

But hell if she was going to let him run the show. She nipped his lower lip and he startled slightly. Grinning in the small space that granted her, Marinette wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled the other free from his hand to grab the back of the couch and pull, forcing him back as she straightened and rolled up to her knees so that he was the one with his head tilted back, and only then did she part her lips and slide her tongue into his mouth, hands moving to hold his face at just the right angle. The strangled noise he made and the way he grabbed at her hips was very satisfying. It felt so good to get some payback after all the time she’d spent agonizing over her crush on him. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of the way his hands were scrabbling against her, trying to pull her into his lap.

She broke the kiss, laughing when he tried to follow her to prolong it. “Easy, we still have to go back in public after this,” she teased, and Luka groaned, letting his head fall back against the bench.

“Fuck me,” he muttered breathlessly, and Marinette snorted, leaning against him.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?” she scoffed, and Luka’s eyes flew open.

“No, no, God, no, I didn’t mean, I wouldn’t—”

Marinette let him stammer for another few moments out of pure revenge for all those times he had grinned at her while she tripped over her tongue, before she leaned in and kissed him, softly this time. “Shut up and put yourself back together, Viperion, we still have an awards ceremony to get through.”

“ Shit. ” Luka let go of her and covered his face with his hands. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Marinette put her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help it. She was just so happy. Luka dropped his hands and grinned at her, reaching out to snag her around the waist and pull her close, kissing her even as she continued to laugh, pure joy singing from her soul as she pretended to dodge him. He planted kisses on her jaw and her neck as she squealed and tried half-heartedly to wriggle away before giving up and turning to kiss him again on the mouth, and then again, and then again, slow, deep kisses.

“What?” she asked as Luka chuckled against her mouth.

“Nothing,” he sighed, nudging his nose against hers. “Just feeling lucky I guess. I’m so happy, Marinette.”

Marinette smiled, but they did need to be getting back, so she pushed his hands away for real and slid off the couch.

She bit her lip in amusement when Luka whined, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch and letting his head hang back. “Do we have to?” he groaned. “I really hate ceremonies.”

“Yes,” Marinette grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him up off the couch. “I want to see you up there, right in the number two spot where you belong.”

“Oh, low,” Luka laughed, dragging his feet as she tugged him towards the door. “Wait, wait.” He pulled his hand free and turned back to grab their water. “Never leave evidence behind,” he said, handing her one of the bottles with a wink. “Especially not evidence with lipstick stains.”

Marinette giggled. “Wait, is that why you—”

“No comment,” Luka said, cheeks reddening as he threw the incriminating evidence in the hallway’s recycling bin.

They weren’t very sneaky coming back down the stairs, giggling and snuggling and nearly tripping more than once because they were standing too close together.

When they emerged into the full light of the hallway outside of the lounge, Luka looked at Marinette and smirked. “Hey Ladybug.”

“Hmm?” Marinette raised her eyebrows.

Luka leaned in and kissed her until they were both breathless. “Fix your lipstick,” he whispered against her lips, and laughed as Marinette cursed and jerked back, slapping a hand over her mouth. Her red lipstick had held up to the relatively innocent kisses backstage, but now it was smeared all over his mouth, blended with the peach he’d been wearing, and her face couldn’t possibly look any better. Luka burst out laughing at her expression, and Marinette began to giggle again too.

“Here, I have some wipes,” he managed to say at last, pulling a packet of makeup remover wipes from his back pocket. “Let me help.”

“You should, since it was your fault,” Marinette shot back, taking the packet from him and pulling a wipe free. She pouted as Luka snatched it back from her fingers, but she didn’t really mean it, and she let him take her chin in his hand and tilt her face up.

“I’m not even sorry,” Luka chuckled, eyes on her lips as he gently wiped away the smears. “I’ll buy you a better brand.” He winked, and then his humor settled into a quiet contentment that shone in his face. “That was pretty amazing, Marinette. I hope we can do it again sometime soon. Maybe I could take you out to dinner and—”

“Marinette!” Max called, bursting out of the doors down the hall and looking around for a moment before spotting them. His shoulders slumped in relief. “There you are! You weren’t answering your phone, I was getting concerned. It’s almost time.”

Luka winced, going to work quickly on his own face. “Busted,” he murmured, and Marinette could hear the laughter in his voice.

Marinette snorted. “Like he didn’t already know. He’s been teasing me about you since we met.” She raised her voice and called, “We’re coming.” She took Luka’s hand and tugged him along with her back to the doors where Max was waiting.

Max adjusted his glasses and looked at his phone. “We’re due for the ceremony in two minutes and forty-five seconds.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Marinette smiled. “I’m good to go, I just need to grab my makeup bag and fix my lipstick.”

Luka made a noise that sounded suspiciously like choked laughter, but Marinette didn’t look at him, squeezing his hand tight enough that he winced.

“Oh, you left it on the drink table earlier, I picked it up for you,” Max said, pulling her lipstick tube out of his pocket and coming down the hallway to meet him. “It looks good to me, though, are you sure you want to take the time?”

Luka coughed into his hand, obviously trying not to laugh, but Max didn’t even glance at him.

“It’ll only be a second,” Marinette said, taking the tube from him. She opened it and paused as they reached the doors, using her reflection in the window to apply her lipstick over her naturally reddened lips. She could see Luka over her shoulder finger-combing his hair back into place. She capped the tube and handed it to Luka with a wink. “Hold onto it for me? I have a feeling I might need it again later.”

“Sure,” Luka grinned, and reached around her to pull the door open. “Just find me whenever you’re ready to need a touch up.”

It was Marinette’s turn to choke on a laugh, while Max threw Luka a slightly puzzled glance, but clearly dismissed his odd phrasing in favor of ushering them all back into the ceremony. Marinette grinned. Max might think he’s all worldly, but when he’s focused on something he doesn’t notice anything.

***

They made it through the awards ceremony and almost an hour of the afterparty, accepting congratulations and fistbumps and handshakes and ribbing (mostly good-natured, some not so much, but Marinette had never cared less in her life than she did at that moment). Then someone on the game committee stood up to make a speech and Marinette saw her opportunity. She grabbed the lapel of Luka’s hoodie and tugged lightly. He met her gaze and grinned, following her pull willingly.

She ducked into a shadowed hall, pulling him just beyond the light from the party, and as soon as she leaned back against the wall he was bending over her, though the kiss he laid on her lips was soft and gentle and over much too quickly.

“Sorry,” he murmured, with a lopsided grin. “That was kind of presumptuous I guess.”

Marinette grabbed the lapels of his hoodie and pulled him in for another soft kiss. “Maybe. I don’t mind though.”

“I really like you, Marinette,” Luka said, one hand finding her hip while the other leaned on the wall beside her. “In case I didn’t make that clear before. Not just kissing you, though, for the record, I really like that too, but. You. It’s you.”

Marinette smiled, a happy flutter in her stomach making her wiggle a bit. “You should probably know I’ve had a massive crush on you for weeks,” she admitted shyly, still holding on to his hoodie.

Luka’s grin got wider, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah? Weeks?”

Marinette pouted at him. “Don’t lie, you knew.”

Luka chuckled and looked away. “Maybe. I just...I didn’t know what to do with it for a while. I didn’t want to lead you on if I wasn’t...but then I was, and...” He looked back at her and grinned slowly. “Just weeks, huh?”

Marinette shrugged, looking somewhere over his left shoulder. “Weeks. Months. Something like that.” She twirled her finger in the string of his hoodie, still not quite looking at him. “So I’m maybe not at all opposed to—presumption.”

“That’s, um…” He was clearly trying to keep his smile under control, but it wasn’t working. The grin on his face was rapidly crossing into idiotic. Marinette giggled. “That’s really good to hear,” he continued, “because I’ve been getting really stupid over you really fast since we started working together, so...I’m kinda glad you got a head start. It’s actually really flattering coming from a girl like you.”

Marinette frowned slightly. “A girl like me?

Luka gave her an amused look. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Marinette, but you’re kind of a catch.”

Marinette blinked at him, startled, and Luka buried his face in her shoulder to muffle his laughter. “Oh my God, you really hadn’t noticed. You’re so damn cute.”

“Cute!” Marinette huffed indignantly, but Luka lifted his face from her shoulder and nudged his nose against hers with a low chuckle that made her shiver.

“Adorable,” he told her, with so much affection that she couldn’t be offended. “Also really, seriously hot, which, I don’t even know how you manage to do both of those at once, but—” He cleared his throat. “Can I—”

“Yes,” Marinette giggled, tugging on his hoodie, and he bent, closing his eyes and kissing her with a slow heat that made her weak. She slid her hands up his firm chest and over his shoulders until they met behind his neck, savoring the pleased noise he made. Luka broke from her mouth and laid soft kisses along her jaw.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice so deep it was practically a growl, and Marinette shivered again. Luka cocked his head slightly. “You okay?”

“I, um,” Marinette bit her lip. “I really like your voice,” she admitted in a rush.

“Yeah?” That idiotic grin was growing on his face again and she was rapidly falling in love with it, with the way that he looked at her…

With him. She was falling pretty hard for him. And her only consolation was that he seemed to be tumbling head over heels along with her. The idea of loving someone who loved her back was...heady, to say the least. Not even the most euphoric moments of her ill-fated pining compared to this.

“Marinette?” he prompted, nudging his nose against hers. “I’m serious. I really want to see you again soon.”

She kissed him again, just because he was so close. He chased her when she would have ended it, and she smiled against his lips before letting him coax her into a much longer, deeper kiss.

“Wednesday?” she said, when he finally drew back.

“Hm?” he blinked slightly glazed eyes and Marinette giggled. She straightened up off of the wall and leaned into him instead, fingers sliding up to play with the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Wednesday,” she repeated. “You can pick me up at seven. Bring your guitar, you promised to play for me again.”

“I did,” he agreed, voice dipping low again as his hand slid around to the small of her back. “I can’t wait.”

“Bring your A-game,” she told him. “I expect to be swept off my feet. But come hungry and plan somewhere light for dinner because my parents will freak when I tell them I have a boyfriend. There will definitely be appetizers. There might be cake. Maybe even a souffle. You tell Papa his rematch will have to wait though because I’m not sharing you this time.”

The dopey grin returned. “I’m your boyfriend?”

Marinette blinked, and then blushed hotly, which both made him grin wider and limited her ability to play it off, but she did her best. “You’re on trial. Think you can handle it?”

“Oh, definitely,” he chuckled, and that dopey grin turned into the pirate grin that always made her melt. “The question is, can you?”

“Oh that’s how it is,” Marinette managed, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he murmured, freeing one hand to slip it behind her neck and tilt her face up. “That's how it is. So you let me know when you’re convinced.” His lips descended on hers and his body pressed hers in the wall and by the time he was done kissing her Marinette was pretty thoroughly convinced.

Not that she planned to admit it anytime soon.

She was pretty sure she was going to like this game.

#quickspins #killer combo #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #gamer au #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

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adenei · 3 years

Text

Fake It Til You Make It - Ch. 2

AO3 || FFN

(”I want to be a musician, okay?”)

“Hi Mum! Hi Aunt Muriel. If you’ll just excuse me, I’m quite knackered. I’m going to go—” Ginny tried to skirt by them and make her way up the stairs.

“Not so fast, Ginevra,” Aunt Muriel said with her nose up in the air. “We have matters to discuss.”

“Aunt Muriel, I know what you’re here for, and with all due respect, being a debutante is not who I am or who I want to be. I want to play football, not dress in layers of tulle and whatever that stuff under the skirt is called,” Ginny tried to explain for the hundredth time.

“Crinoline,” her mother corrected her. “Ginny, just sit down and hear your aunt out. Please?” Her mum was giving her a look that Ginny knew not to defy, no matter how rotten she was feeling.

“Ginevra, I’m well aware that the debutante lifestyle does not fit your...personality, but I am here to offer you a deal,” Aunt Muriel began.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, knowing her aunt always drove a hard bargain. She wondered what was in it for her since Muriel always had a trick up her sleeve to manipulate those to get her way. Unfortunately, being the only Weasley daughter meant there was no one else she could persuade to take her place.

“If you participate in the season, without complaint, I will pay the boarding fees for you to stay on campus at Beauxbatons this year.”

Ginny couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping. Her aunt never offered anything like this. Why was it so important to Muriel for Ginny to participate in the debutante season? Aside from the fact that she was the prime age to participate, it was often a way for the teens to find a partner, one of class, and better standing. Honestly, the whole thing was bloody archaic, and she had no idea why it still existed.

That’s when it hit her. She was a bargaining chip. Muriel would use her to ‘restore her family’s ‘place’ in society. You’ve got to be kidding me, Ginny thought. Sure, her parents didn’t make a ton of money, but they got by. Ron had just received a full scholarship to attend Hogwarts for their music program, and all of her older brothers were proving successful in their lines of work. They didn’t need Ginny to become a pawn in some ruddy game her aunt wanted to play.

“At the very least, please think about it, Ginevra. You are a natural beauty, and you could perform quite well if you allowed yourself to take a chance. As your family’s only daughter, you owe it to them to partake in at least one season. And, since that blasted football team has been disbanded, you’ve got nothing standing in your way this year.”

Anger flowed through her veins as Ginny felt as though she was going to explode. So her aunt had been behind eliminating the girl’s football team! All as a power play so that Muriel could live vicariously through Ginny. This was all so unfair! She needed the professional teams to start scouting her this year, and now all her chances were being thrown out the window at becoming a professional football player because her bloody aunt wanted her to become a debutante.

“No,” Ginny said fervently.

There was absolutely no way she was going to let Aunt Muriel manipulate her life. Not in a million years. Her mother put her head in her hands, and Ginny felt terrible for a moment. Mum would understand, though. Ginny had goals and plans for her future, none of which involved becoming a debutante or a trophy wife. That was not who she was, nor would she ever be.

Aunt Muriel let out a long sigh. “I had a feeling you’d say that. You’re lucky I won’t be deterred so easily. I will give you two days to think about this, Ginevra. Perhaps you’ll change your mind. What else are you going to do this school year without that useless sport?”

“It’s not a useless sport, Aunt Muriel!” Ginny argued.

“Be that as it may, I know how much you’d love to live on campus with your friends. I can give you that experience. You have my number if you change your mind.” There was an air of finality in Muriel’s voice that told Ginny the conversation was over.

“Does that mean I can be excused now?” she asked through gritted teeth.

Her mother nodded exasperatedly as Ginny stormed up the stairs. She tossed her things in her own room before heading up to the house’s top floor, where Ron’s attic room was. They both shared a mutual hatred for Aunt Muriel, and if anyone would understand her frustration, it was him.

Ginny walked into Ron’s room and immediately started venting. “Ugh! I can’t believe her nerve” Ron jumped.

“Whose nerve?”

“Aunt Muriel! Showing up here with those ridiculous dresses and trying to bribe me into joining the debutante season! I even think she had a hand in disbanding the girl’s football team at Beauxbatons. Can you believe it?”

“That’s ridiculous, Gin. There’s no way she has that much influence, even if she’s vindictive enough to do what it takes to get her way.”

“Why are you not more upset about this?”

“I am! I’m just, er, busy,” Ron said.

“Busy with what? Is that a bag you’re packing? I thought you weren’t leaving for Hogwarts until Monday.”

“I, er,” Ron stammered.

“Ron, what are you planning?” Ginny said as she closed his bedroom door.

Despite being polar opposites, they never kept anything from each other. She always knew when he was up to something, and he knew the same.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine, but you can’t tell anyone!” he warned.

“When have I ever given away your secrets before? You know you can trust me.”

“I’m going to be a bit late for the start of term at Hogwarts.”

“Why?” Ginny asked skeptically.

“I’ve been invited to this music competition in Germany. It’s for two weeks, but I have to go, Gin.”

“But you just got a full ride to Hogwarts for your music! Won’t you be jeopardizing that if you take off for two weeks instead of starting on time?”

“Not if someone covers for me and says I’m sick or something. Maybe I’ve got mono or the flu, or...” he shrugged, not bothering to put more thought into a plan.

Not that she wanted to change the topic, but his mention of the ‘kissing’ disease reminded Ginny of her run-in with Lavender. “Speaking of, have you talked to your wretched girlfriend lately?”

Ron winced. “Er, no, I’ve been avoiding her.”

“You don’t say. Must be why I got ambushed on my way back from school. If you’re going to chuck her, then you might as well do it sooner rather than later.”

“Eh, I’ll take care of it when I get back.”

“I don’t understand you. If Mum and Dad find out, they’ll pull you out of Hogwarts before you even have a chance to start!”

“So don’t let them find out. Please, Gin! I need to do this! This could be my shot at getting my music out there. It’s not that I don’t want to explore the classical route, but I don’t know how much I’m going to be able to focus on my own music at school.” Ron was begging Ginny now.

“How? I don’t suppose I could just dress up and pose as you for two weeks,” Ginny said in a bewildered tone.

Despite how ridiculous the statement sounded, the idea hit her full force. But there was no way she’d be able to pull it off, was there? Probably not. Unless….

“I don’t care how you do it. You just need to make sure Mum and Dad don’t find out. I’m going to tell them the auditions are tomorrow, so I’m leaving today. My flight leaves in five hours, so I have to get going.”

“How are you even paying for all of this?”

“I’m staying at a hostel once I’m there, but Bill lent me money for the flight. I can pay him back if I place in the competition, and if not, then I’ll find a part-time job to pay him back.” Ron hoisted his bag on his back. “Listen, Ginny, I’ve got to go. The bus to London leaves in a half hour, so I really have to go.” He stuck one leg out his open window.

“Why are you going out the window,” she asked him slowly.

“Because Mum and Dad thought I left hours ago. I owe you one, alright?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Just let me know when you get there, okay? And don’t get into any more trouble.”

“Thanks, Gin, you’re the best!” Ron said as he disappeared down the makeshift fire escape.

As Ginny watched him go, the wheels were turning in her mind. Ron was leaving for two weeks. That was just enough time for her to pose as her brother and make the Hogwarts team. Then, she could play in the Beauxbatons game and stick it to Coach Snape and Michael when Hogwarts won.

She’d show everyone that she was just as good as the boys! Now, how could she just disappear from the house for two weeks? And that’s when it hit her: Aunt Muriel’s offer. She could totally juggle the boy’s training schedule and the debutante program. It’d be tricky, but doable. And she wouldn’t have to try that hard with Ron’s schedule. It’d only be a week of classes, and hopefully, she could fudge her way through the music courses.

I can totally do this, Ginny thought. She headed down the stairs to see if Aunt Muriel was still there to change her answer, and if all went well, she’d be on her way to visit Fred and George next.

#hp muggle au #she's the man inspired #hinny #ginny weasley

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bellemorte180 · 4 years

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Little Love

If it wasn't for the court ordered custody order, Caroline and Klaus probably would have killed each other. While they tried to be civil for their daughter, it wasn't easy. However, after a night in the Emergency Room something softened between the two of them. Slowly thing began to change and maybe....just maybe...they can see beyond the hatred they built up for one another.

Written for Klaroline Week. Day 4 Enemies to Lovers

Thank you @klaroline-events, for putting this all together

Caroline tapped her highlighter against her notebook. Everything was organized precisely and she marked each foot note with a specific color. She glanced at the article on the screen and smiled. It was perfect and finished a head of schedule. Glancing at the clock which were blaring the number 9:15 pm, and noticed that she had just under three hours left before she had to have it submitted in order for it to make the morning paper. She flipped through her notes again, triple checking that everything she had was correct. Caroline was not a journalist who printed mistakes and she hated doing redactions. They were embarrassing.

Caroline was lost in thought that she did not hear the creaking of her home office door or the patter of feet coming up to her. It wasn’t until a small hand tapped her on the arm that caused her to jumped slightly.

“Mommy? I don’t feel good.” Caroline looked down at her six-year-old daughter, Lizzie, and sighed. The little girl was clutching the pink unicorn that her aunt had gifted her as a baby and she rarely let go of. She had curly blonde hair, blue eyes and dimples that Caroline despised who they had originated from. Lizzie had trouble sleeping and at times simply could not just go to sleep no matter how hard Caroline tried to put her down. Caroline had more than one late night just trying to get her to close her eyes. It had been awhile since Lizzie refused to sleep but on occasion, she had bursts of insomnia.

“What’s wrong baby?” She put on her best mom voice and knelt beside her. She felt her daughter’s head and realized that she was warm. Very warm. This was more than just not being able to sleep and wanting her mother’s attention. “What hurts?”

“My head. It won’t stop thumping.” Lizzie replied, rubbing her ear as she went. Caroline stood and held out her arms. Lizzie early crawled into them, allowing Caroline to pick her up. Despite the fact that her daughter was growing very quickly and probably would be taller than Caroline one day, Caroline could lift her easily. Lizzie was a very active child with a very picky appetite that it was difficult for Caroline to convince her to eat three solid complete meals a day. While she was not underweight by any means, she was still a skinny child.

Caroline carried Lizzie into the bathroom and sat her down on the counter. She fished through the cabinet and pulled out the child’s thermometer that she spent way too much money on. She had to ensure that it was accurate and it had not let her down yet. She stuck the thermometer under Lizzie’s tongue and waited the few seconds before pulling it out.

103.6 degrees Fahrenheit.

Caroline could feel her heart begin to beat faster and the slight panic well up in her chest. Her daughter just didn’t have a fever, she had a high fever. She could tell that her daughter was not feeling the best and decided to try and calm herself before making matter worse. Lizzie had a tendency to overreact and throw a tantrum when she was scared…or hurt…or angry…or very happy.

It was a trait Caroline insisted that Lizzie did not inherit from her.

“Lizzie, we are going put some clothes on and take a drive okay?”

“I don’t want to go for a drive.” Lizzie whined but Caroline persisted.

“I know but we have to.” Caroline picked Lizzie back up and walked into her daughter’s bedroom. She pulled out a pair of small black leggings, a large shirt and sweatshirt. Lizzie dressed with minimal protest, which told Caroline exactly how sick her child was and put on a pair sock and small sneakers on her feet. Once dressed, Caroline quickly slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed her own sweatshirt; still being dressed from her day.

She picked up Lizzie and left the town house she rented in the middle of Richmond, Virginia. She strapped Lizzie into her booster seat and ran around the car and slipped into the driver’s seat. Once she was down the road, heading towards the hospital, she glanced back to see that Lizzie had drifted off slightly; her pink unicorn still clutched tightly to her chest. Caroline reached for her phone, which was in the back pocket of her jeans and dialed. It rang three times before clicking to voicemail.

Scowling, Caroline hung up and dialed again but this time it only rang once before the voicemail picked up.

“Klaus, I know you hate hearing from me but if you do not call me back in three seconds, I will rain hell down on you. Do you understand?” While it probably wasn’t the best way to leave a message, Caroline was stressed and having to call Klaus was never a pleasant experience in her opinion. If he did not call her back, she would try again….and again….and again until he got so irritated with her, he would have to pick up the phone. Klaus must have been thinking along the same lines because less than a minute later, his name popped up on her caller ID.

"I’m working Caroline.” Working, right. That was code for painting in Klaus’s book. While Caroline would admit that Klaus was a talented artist, he owned an art gallery that showed other people’s art and she was willing to bet that was not a gallery show at 9:30 on a Wednesday night.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t willing to bet that, because art showings could happen on a weeknight, but that was beside the point.

“Yeah, well I’m driving your daughter to the emergency room so I win.”

“Lizzie?” Klaus’s voice changed from one of irritation to worry. There was a softness to it that Caroline rarely heard from him; possibly because it was never really directed at her. She heard it when the spoke to their daughter but he rarely treated her with the same affection. “What is wrong?”

“She woke up complaining about her head hurting. She was hot to the touch and had a fever of 103.” Caroline replied and Klaus hissed.

“Did you give her anything?”

“The moment I took her temp, I put her in this car and called you.”

“What was she like before? Was she not feeling well before you put her to bed?” Caroling grind her teeth. She hated when Klaus gave her the holier than thou attitude when it came to their daughter. She knew how to care for her child and while she would say that Klaus is a good father, being a shitty human being notwithstanding, she did not need him questioning her parenting skills.

“She was fine. She watched Frozen a million times, played with her pink unicorn, picked at her dinner, and talked nonstop about what she wants for her birthday, despite the fact it’s like six months away.”

“She picked at her dinner? Did she eat anything at all?”

“Oh, don’t give me that Klaus. You and I both know that our daughter is the pickiest eater on the planet. I was able to get her to eat a few chicken nuggets and some broccoli.”

“Lizzie loves chicken nuggets.”

“Not tonight she didn’t.” Klaus had no reply because he knew that Caroline was right. Lizzie had a tendency to love one food and then hate it the next day. It was a never-ending game of guessing which foods she would eat on a day to day basis. The fact that Caroline was able to convince Lizzie to eat a couple pieces of broccoli was a major win.

“What hospital?”

“Chippenham.”

“I’ll see you there.” Klaus hung up the phone and Caroline tossed hers onto the passenger side seat. She glanced in the back and saw that her daughter was still sleeping. Despite the fact that it was hard for Klaus and Caroline to have a civil conversation, they generally tried not to fight in front of her. So, the rarely spoke to each other outside of text messages. They didn’t even provide the transportation to and from each other’s houses, relying on Klaus’s sister Rebekah to both pick up Lizzie and drop her off at their respective homes.

Caroline had no problem with that arrangement because she actually liked Rebekah.

Klaus and Caroline met through a mutual friend; sort of. Caroline’s friend Katherine had been dating Klaus’s brother Elijah and the two met at their New Year’s Eve party one year. One to many vodka-cranberries had Caroline running off with Klaus to his apartment and was in his bed before the clock struck midnight. But their romantic interlude only happened once.

Okay, several times but it was only one night.

When Caroline discovered she was pregnant, she first thing she did was have Katherine give her Klaus’s number. She told him the news and he flipped his shit. He didn’t believe her at first and it wasn’t until she took an in-utero DNA test that confirmed he was the father that he started believing her. However, their relationship did not improve. Caroline wondered if he would have even stepped up and been there for his child if it hadn’t been for Elijah kicking his ass to do the right thing. In the back of her mind, she knew that was not a fair thought but none-the-less, Klaus was a right jack ass to her at first.

And Caroline still couldn’t believe Katherine dumped Elijah for Mason Lockwood. Complete downgrade in Caroline’s opinion.

The relationship between Klaus and Caroline did not improve with time. They both had a temper and it clashed with the best of them. However, there were small moments when the two could come together for the sake of their daughter. He was with her during labor and she still remembered when Klaus held Lizzie for the first time. He even bought her a small silver bracelet with Lizzie’s birthstone inside it in order to celebrate the birth of their daughter.

He didn’t even fight her on wanting to name Lizzie after her mother who had died when Caroline was a teenager.

But then there were times where he was vindictive and just down right cruel. When Caroline started dating Tyler Lockwood for a while, Klaus flat out refused to allow Lizzie around him. Granted, Caroline was not about introduce her daughter to some stranger but Klaus hated Tyler with a passion that baffled Caroline. She had to point out that he had women in and out of his life that she didn’t feel was a good example for Lizzie.

It was a back and forth tug of war between the two of them. When the relationship between Caroline and Tyler fizzled out (which she partly blamed Klaus for), Klaus was far to smug for her liking. He also liked to mention whichever girlfriend he was with to just annoy her as much as possible.

f it wasn’t for their court ordered custody agreement, Caroline was sure that they would have killed each other by now.

They came to a week on week off agreement with Rebekah providing the transportation; with Elijah as an alternate if Rebekah was not available. There was no way in hell Caroline trusted Kol in a car with her child. Klaus and Caroline actually agreed on that fact. The two had little to no contact directly with one another outside of emergencies and the few activities their daughter was in. During those times they could at least pretend to be civil.

Sometimes.

When Caroline pulled into the hospital parking lot, she gently got Lizzie out of the car and walked her into the emergency room hospital. By the time the nurses were checking her in and Caroline was filling out the necessary paperwork, Lizzie curled up in her lap; refusing to let go of her mother, Caroline’s phone buzzed to let her know that Klaus was parking his ridiculous expensive car. He must have sped the entire way but Caroline couldn’t blame him. She would have done the same thing in his position. She saw him all but run in, his eyes darting around, looking for her.

“Klaus.” Caroline called and his eyes snapped toward her. She eyed him up and down as he made his way over to them. His hair was a complete disaster, probably from pulling at it due to stress. He was in a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt that had seen better days. He was covered in paint, which confirmed to Caroline that he had indeed been working on his latest project.

“How is she?”

“She slept pretty much the entire way here but she is still warm. The nurses said it’s a quiet night so it shouldn’t take to terribly long to take her back.” Klaus nodded and saw that she will filling out paperwork.

“Here, let me take her.” Klaus reached over and took Lizzie from her arms, which Caroline was grateful for because it made filling out the forms much easier.

“Daddy?” Lizzie woke up slowly and gave Klaus a small smile, the dimples they shared showing on her cheeks.

“Hey little love, how are you feeling?”

“Not good.” Lizzie wrapped her arms around Klaus and buried her head in his neck. Caroline couldn’t help but give a small smile. No matter her feelings about Klaus, she had to admit that it melted her heart to see her daughter interact with her father. “Will you stay with me?”

“I wouldn’t leave you for the world.”

“Shit.” Caroline hissed out and closed her eyes. She brought the clipboard to her head and rested her forehead against it.

“Mommy, that’s an Uncle Kol word.” Caroline couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that and Klaus outright laughed. Lizzie narrowed her eyes at the two of them, not liking that they where laughing at her. “Well it is!”

“That’s right and what do we say about Uncle Kol.” Klaus asked.

“Ignore him because he is always wrong.”

“That’s right.” Klaus stated and looked over to Caroline. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot her insurance card.” Caroline scowled. It was not like her to forget things. She typically was always on top of everything that she double checked and triple checked if she had what she needed when she left the house; but this time she was in such a rush that she didn’t think to check. “And my entire wallet actually.”

“Here.” Klaus shifted and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out his copy of the card. For a split second, he saw a picture of Lizzie in his wallet and she smiled at that. “Use mine. It should be up to date. And I’ll take care of the bill to when we check out, so don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you.” Caroline muttered. She hadn’t thought about the hospital copay. Klaus was good for it and she knew that but money had been a touchy subject with them for a time. When she was pregnant, Klaus accused her of getting pregnant on purpose to take him for money; which Caroline did not do and out of stubbornness, she never once filed for child support, even though she could have used the money at the time; having only been a little over twenty-one when she fell pregnant.

They lapsed into silence and once they were called back into a room. Klaus, who was still holding Lizzie, laid her down upon the bed. She pulled her pink unicorn to her chest and eyed the nurse worryingly. Their daughter was not one who trusted strangers, at all. In fact, she rarely made friends with children her own age because she didn’t trust new people easily.

That and she had a prickly personality.

Something Caroline insists that she got from Klaus.

The nurse checked her temperature and other vitals all the while asking both Klaus and Caroline questions. When Caroline was going over why she brought her in, Klaus did not interrupt once nor scold her for something he would have done differently. The nurse said that the doctor would be in momentarily and slipped out.

Lizzie feel asleep soon after and both Klaus and Caroline lapsed back into silence. Caroline stood from the uncomfortable hospital chair and paced the room. She could feel Klaus’s eyes on her with every movement she made but she could not be sure if it was out of annoyance or sympathy. The silence between them was driving her insane, especially since she was not one who did silence well.

“Thank you.”

“What for Caroline?”

“Coming tonight.”

“She is my daughter. I would drop everything for her.” Klaus replied and Caroline nodded. She could not argue with that and honestly, Caroline did not have it in her to argue. “I hope Haley does not mind that I pulled you out so late.” Granted, it was only a little after ten but still, Haley was a right bitch in Caroline’s opinion.

“Haley?”

“Yeah. You know, your girlfriend.”

“Oh. Haley and I ended things about five months ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Caroline paused, mainly because she never asked. “Although that explains why Lizzie hasn’t mentioned her in a while.” Lizzie hated Haley. It wasn’t that Haley mistreated Lizzie, Caroline would not stand for that and if she was forced to admit it neither would Klaus, but that Lizzie did not like how Haley babied her. In fact, she was surprised that Lizzie didn’t spill those beans the moment she learned that Klaus gave her the boot. Secret keeping was not Lizzie’s strong suit. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That entire relationship was a train wreck.” Caroline snorted at that. She didn’t like Haley the moment she met her over a year ago. Caroline could not explain why but there was something that just drove Caroline insane when she saw them together. “You can say it Caroline. I know you want to.”

“I told you so.” Klaus just rolled his eyes at her. She smiled lightly. The knowledge that his relationship with Haley was over made her feel slightly better. It was petty but Caroline didn’t care. “What happened? I mean, never mind. None of my business.”

“No. It’s fine.” For a moment, Caroline wanted to ask if he was feeling alright. He usually got annoyed if Caroline pried too much. Which she honestly didn’t do that often, only when she was concerned with who Klaus brought around Lizzie. “I caught her tampering with her birth control.” Caroline whipped around and gave Klaus a shocked looked. In fact, Caroline was certain that her eyes were bulging out of her head. “Yeah. I had the same exact look except add in my temper.”

“Well, fuck.”

“That’s an Uncle Kol word, Caroline.”

“Bite me.” She shook her head. “Seriously? Like, Seriously?”

“Yup.” Klaus nodded. “She thought that if she got pregnant and gave me a baby, then I would stop spending all my time with Lizzie during my weeks. She didn’t like the fact that Lizzie came first.” He paused. “Because she does you know. I know I was irritated when you called me tonight but Lizzie does come first for me. Always and forever.”

“I know that Klaus and I’ve never doubted that. Not once.” Klaus gave her an incredulous look as though he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. Caroline sighed and sat back down in the empty chair. She knew this was probably the most honest conversation they have had in a very long time. “You’re a good dad Klaus. No matter what our relationship is like, I know that when it comes to Lizzie, you’ll be there.”

Before either one of them could say anything else, the doctor came in and looked at the small patient who was still clutching her unicorn as though her life depended upon it. An ear infection. When the doctor told them that it wasn’t anything life threatening, because in the back of Caroline’s mind she was certainly obsessing that it was, they both let out a sigh of relief. The doctor prescribed some antibiotics and sent them home. Lizzie slept through the majority of everything, which was very much unlike her. Klaus checked them out while Caroline took their sleeping daughter to her car, with a promise that she would let Klaus say goodbye to her before driving off. When she saw Klaus striding across the parking lot to her car, he had something in his hand that Caroline would have freaked out when she discovered it was missing.

A bright pink unicorn.

“Thank you! If she would have woke up without that…”

“It would have been the end of the world as we know it.” Klaus joked but they both knew how true that statement would have been. Lizzie would have thrown a fit, especially since she was sick. When Lizzie threw a tantrum, it was not a pretty sight. It also took Caroline by surprise that Klaus brought the unicorn to her and not hid it, making her suffer Lizzie’s meltdown. If she would have been in Klaus’s position, Caroline never would have done it but most certainly would have thought about it. Klaus gave her soft smile before crawling into the back of her car in order to kiss the top of Lizzie’s head. “I love you, little love.”

Klaus climbed out of the back, closed the door and looked at Caroline. A small awkward moment passed between them and the way Klaus was looking at her made her believe that there was something he wanted to say to her. Klaus was not one to mince his words and always said what was on his mind. The fact that he was staying silent worried Caroline.

“Well, goodnight.” She moved to walk around her car but Klaus stopped her.

“Caroline…” He paused, looking for the words but Caroline could tell he chickened out. “Will you call me in the morning? Let me know how she is doing?”

“Of course.” The shared a small smile and Caroline climbed into her car. Klaus stood in the parking lot, watching her drive off; a move that she was not sure exactly what to make of. By the time she got home, it was well after midnight. When she was getting ready to get into bed for the few hours of sleep before Lizzie woke, she noticed that she had a message from Klaus on her phone.

Thank you for your honesty.

The changes were subtle. At first, everything remained the same. They communicated by text message and Rebekah picked Lizzie up and dropped her off. There was something in Rebekah’s demeanor though whenever she looked at Caroline. A small smirk or an all-knowing glance that infuriated Caroline. If she didn’t have a stable understanding with Lizzie’s aunt, she would have called her out on it but she refrained.

Caroline needed to be on good terms with at least one Mikaelson.

However, the messages from Klaus were different. Friendlier. Gone were the snarky comments and explosive unfounded accusations. Instead, he added pleasantries that Caroline was convinced were absent from his vocabulary. He wished her good morning before asking about their daughter and every night he told her goodnight after every phone call with Lizzie. She would never admit it but each time, Caroline felt her stomach flutter ever so slight; but she would deny it upon pain of death.

Soon enough, just communicating by text message stopped. Klaus would call her when he wanted to check in on Lizzie. Their conversations were strictly about her but eventually they moved onto more personal topics. It started with Klaus complementing her on an article she had written. Caroline was unsure what surprised her more, the fact that he read one of her articles or that he agreed with her opinion.

There were times that Klaus would call her out of the blue with something that had nothing to do with Lizzie. He called when their daughter was at school and during times that he knew Caroline would be available, such as her lunch break or the hour she had before Lizzie got off the bus. The cordial relationship they built took months but Caroline found that it was far more pleasant than arguing every time they had to speak to one another. It baffled her at first but Caroline felt that if Klaus was going to put in the effort to be more pleasant with her, than she was not going to be the one who messed that up.

Her pride would not allow it; because that was all it was. Pride. Nothing more. Nope. Not at all.

Then one day when it was time for the exchange of custody, Caroline opened her front door to find, not Rebekah but Klaus. It had been months since Lizzie had her ear infection and she had not seen him in person since. They spoke almost everyday but actually seeing him in person took Caroline off guard. If anyone were to ask her about the blush heating up her skin, she would deny it.

“Lizzie, your dad’s here!” Caroline stepped aside and allowed Klaus to enter the house. His eyes darted around, taking in the pictures in her entry hall. She realized that this was the first time he had actually step foot inside her house. He had always known where she lived, and had been in the backyard but he had never actually been inside it. Caroline was tempted to ask why he had come but decided against it. “Would you like something to drink? Lizzie is probably still deciding which friend her unicorn would like to come with.”

Klaus snorted at that.

“If could be ages before that decision is made.”

“Coffee?” Klaus nodded and followed her into the kitchen. He looked around and smirked at the insane amount of organization her home had. He had known Caroline was a neat freak and had a case of OCD that she would deny, but seeing it so ingrained in her home was humorous to him; but he was wise enough to keep his comments to himself. At least he knew where Lizzie got her obsession that everything be neat and orderly from, because it certainly was not him. “How do you take it?”

“Black.”

“Of course, you do.” Klaus raised his eyebrows in question but Caroline just rolled her eyes in response. She made his coffee and gave it to him. “While you’re here, it would be a good time for us to talk.”

“About?”

“A special day for a special someone.”

“Ah. Yes. That.” Klaus took a sip of his coffee. “I can’t believe she is going to be seven.”

“Right?” Caroline shook her head. It felt like yesterday that Lizzie was an infant, screaming at the top of her lungs demanding that the world pay attention to her. Since Lizzie’s first birthday, it was the one day that both Klaus and Caroline tried to be on their best behavior because neither one of them wanted to ruin Lizzie’s day by the two of them bickering. “She wants a party. I was thinking we could do it the second weekend of September? Its technically not on her birthday but Rebekah mentioned that she was going out of town for work and I know she would hate to miss it.”

“That should be fine. Theme?” Klaus

“Princess.”

“Of course. What else would it be?” Klaus drawled out. “I mean, what else would the daughter of, oh what was it?” He paused for dramatic effect. “Oh yes. Miss Mystic Falls. Of course, Lizzie would want something that would require her to wear a tiara.”

“Oh, really? You want to go there?” Caroline laughed at him. “May I remind you that it was not me that bought her that doll house in the form of a castle with a doll that looked identical to her? I don’t think it was me that created this princess obsession.”

“Well, in my defense she is practically royalty.” Caroline just snorted.

“She has you wrapped around her little finger.” Klaus opened his mouth but Caroline pointed at her finger at him, silencing him. Klaus backpedaled and smirked. “And don’t you even try to deny it.”

“Are the two of you getting along?” Both Klaus’s and Caroline’s snapped to the archway that lead into the kitchen. Lizzie was standing there with her hands on her hips and her head cocked. Her blue eyes were darting between the two of them as though she was judging them both; and she probably was. “It’s weird.”

“Elizabeth!” Caroline scolded but Lizzie just rolled her eyes. Caroline could tell that Klaus was holding back a laugh and she just gave him a looked that dared him to laugh out loud. Instead, he just tilted his head toward their daughter as though to say her attitude was all Caroline. She was going to so much fun as a teenager.

“Hi Daddy!” Lizzie skipped over to Klaus and jumped into his lap. He lifted her up easily and kissed the top of her head.

“Hello little love. Are you ready?” Lizzie nodded, causing her blond pigtails to bounce slightly. “Okay, go say goodbye to your mom and we can get going.” Lizzie hopped back down and walked over to Caroline, with her arms open wide. Caroline scoped Lizzie up into a big hug and held her tightly. It was always hard saying goodbye to her daughter for an entire week, even though she knew she would speak to her every day.

“I love you, Lizzie.”

“Love you too.” Lizzie let go and all but flounced over to her father, pulling him by the hand. Klaus laughed and gave Caroline a gentle wave. “Bye mommy!”

“We’ve all noticed it, you know.” Rebekah replied, sipping her non-alcoholic drink while looking at Caroline questioning look. Caroline was very strict about having alcohol at her daughter’s birthday parties. The rule was mainly meant for Kol who at one point, though it was a bright idea to spike a three-year old’s punch at her birthday.

“Noticed what?” Caroline asked, tearing her eyes from Lizzie who was running around with a few other girls her age. There were not a lot of children present, mainly because none of the other Mikaelson siblings had children and Lizzie did not make friends easily.

“That you and Klaus seem, friendly.”

“We have a child together. We should be friendly.”

“That never stopped you before.”

“Rebekah.” Caroline stated in warning.

“What? I’m just pointing out the obvious.” Rebekah tossed her blond curls over her shoulder, glaring at Caroline. “All I’m saying is that we all see it. Klaus no longer wants to throw something at the mention of your name and you don’t have that scowl on your face when you see him.”

“We are trying to be better for Lizzie, Rebekah. That’s all.” Caroline stated and even she didn’t believe was she was saying. “We fought all the time and even though we tried to keep it from Lizzie, she knew we didn’t get along and it hurt her. We’re trying to be better for the sole purpose of making her life easier.”

“Try saying that once more with feeling and I might believe you.” Caroline rolled her eyes. “Look, Klaus could do far worse that you in terms of a relationship. Hell, he has done far worse. Not only do we actually like you and your obsessive tendencies but you are also Lizzie’s mom and that makes you family.” Rebekah paused. “But if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it. Now, I am going to go over there and play with the puppy my brother bought my niece.”

With that Rebekah walked away and Caroline just shook her head. She glanced over to Klaus who was staring daggers at Kol, who seemed way to pleased with himself. It did not take a genius to figure out what the topic of Klaus’s rage was. She bit her lip and walked over to Klaus, hoping to calm his anger before he murdered Kol during their daughter’s seventh birthday party. Homicide could wait until after the cake at least.

“Klaus.” He turned to look at her. “If you kill him, I’ll help you bury the body but it will have to wait until after the party.”

“He bought her a puppy!” Klaus hissed, through his teeth. Neither Klaus nor Caroline were pet people. Klaus didn’t have the time and Caroline didn’t want to clean up after them. Having a child was enough for both of them. Kol, apparently had other ideas. “He didn’t run this by me and there is no way in hell you would agree to a puppy.”

“Nope.”

“But he bought her one anyway.”

“Yes. Yes, he did.”

“We can’t keep it.”

“Absolutely not.” Both Klaus and Caroline looked over to their daughter who was laughing hysterically as the small dog licked and jumped on her. Her eyes were dancing with happiness and she was smiling so widely, Caroline thought her cheeks had to hurt.

“Damn it.”

“Week on week off? Where Lizzie goes, the dog goes too?”

“Fine.” Klaus hissed out. Shooting another murderous glare at Kol, who just blew Klaus a kiss. “I may take you up on the body disposal later.” Caroline nodded but said nothing. Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes tightly. “There is something I wanted to discuss with you before Kol brought that beast to the party.”

“About what?”

“I have an art showing next weekend. I was hoping to have Lizzie there.” Caroline cocked her head at him confused. He never had Lizzie come to one of his showings before mainly because they were not exactly kid friendly. “I know it is technically your weekend, but I would offer make-up time-“

“Klaus, I’m not worried about that.” Caroline replied, waiving her hand dismissing the idea of make-up time. “It’s just, don’t you think she would be bored. I mean, you’re so busy at those things and I highly doubt that there would be other kids there, and I don’t think the artist would appreciate Lizzie ruining their art.” She could see the hurt look in Klaus’s eyes and Caroline hated herself for a moment. “But if you want her there and the artist is okay with a seven-year-old who has way too many opinions, then sure.”

“He doesn’t mind. The artist I mean.” Klaus paused. “Would you like to come?”

“What?” Caroline asked, in a very high-pitched voice.

“I mean, to bring Lizzie and you could stay if you wanted to, look at the art. Get free wine.” Caroline laughed lightly. “And I would be there. We could you know, meet there and spend time…together.” He looked at her in that bashful way that reminded her of that New Years Eve all those years ago. He seemed shy and unsure of himself-a part of Klaus that she was not really familiar with.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t until hours later, when Lizzie had crashed from her sugar high and Caroline was trying get their new puppy into his crate-fucking Kol-that the reality hit Caroline. She had a date with Klaus. Well, kind of.

Caroline obsessed what to wear. She had never been to one of Klaus’s gallery openings before and was clueless on what to wear. In the week that passed since Lizzie’s birthday, Caroline tried to play it cool with him; not drawing attention to the fact that they had a date coming up. Except it wasn’t really a date but it kind of was. Part of her didn’t know if they had actually made plans for the gallery showing or if she had imagined it. When Klaus had randomly called her to confirm, it all became real.

It threw Caroline into panic mode. She called Katherine, demanding her to come over and help her get ready. Being the best friend that she was, Katherine complied. It actually surprised Caroline how well Katherine was taking the news that she had a date with Klaus. When her relationship with Elijah crashed and burned, which was all Katherine’s fault, she vowed never to have anything to do with a Mikaelson again…Lizzie excluded.

“Honey, we all knew this was coming one day.” Katherine said as she curled Caroline’s hair. “The two of you fought like cats and dogs for you not to get together at some point. Kol thought it was going to be sooner but I figured it would take you guys awhile, didn’t think seven years though.”

“Wait. You talk to Kol?”

“No. This was pre-break up but we all took bets.”

“Oh.” Caroline paused. “Wait what!?”

“You look really pretty Mommy.” Lizzie said, strolling into Caroline’s bedroom as though she owned the place. The puppy, that Lizzie promptly names Olaf because of his white hair, happily following after her. Lizzie was in a peach colored dress and had her hair tied back into a bun with ringlet framing her face. She was very excited for this evening because it meant she got to dress up in a pretty dress.

“Thank Sweetie. You look very pretty too.”

“I know.” Lizzie replied and jumped on Caroline’s bed after helping Olaf up on it. Katherine snorted at the little girl and shook her head. Caroline didn’t even bother correcting her for there was no use at this point.

“Got to admire the kid’s confidence, I’ll admit to that.” Caroline rolled her eyes. No matter how hard she tried, Lizzie was always going to be something of a diva. “I wonder who she got that from?”

“Me.”

“I was going to say Klaus.” Caroline gave Katherine a menacing look, refraining from sticking out her tongue at her best friend. She had to at least try and set a good example for Lizzie. “There you go. All done.” Caroline stood up and admired herself in her full-length mirror. She was wearing a light blue cocktail dress that pinned had her shoulder with a silver clasp while the other shoulder was completely bare. She wore silver stilettos that matched the clasp and her hair was pinned back lightly on one side with the rest hung down in waves. Her make-up was light and natural and she wore only a silver bracelet on her wrist. It was a gift Klaus had given her the day she gave birth to Lizzie. It was the first and last gift he had ever given her.

“You always did look good in blue.” Katherine said, admiring her handiwork. “Now the question becomes, what are you wearing underneath it?” “Katherine! Stop it. We’re so not going there.”

“Denial however, does not look good on you.”

The drive to the gallery did not take long and a part of her wished it did. The closer she got to the gallery, the faster her heart began to pound. She kept thinking back on Katherine’s words and how everyone expected them to end up together one way or another. In truth, the last several months Caroline found herself softening to Klaus. She couldn’t explain what happened but she couldn’t help but miss him when he wasn’t around. Then there was the obvious fact that she was attracted to him. That had never changed and she vividly remembered what he was like in bed.

She would never admit it aloud but that memory had fueled some of her wildest daydreams.

“Are we getting out of the car Mommy?” Lizzie asked impatiently. Caroline shook herself and nodded. She didn’t realize that they had been sitting in the parking lot for several minutes while Caroline worked up the courage to go inside. She stepped out and unbuckled Lizzie from her booster seat. Lizzie all but ran towards the door that had people spilling into it. Caroline caught up with her daughter as quickly as she good in stilettos and grabbed her wrist.

“What have I told you about running off in a parking lot without me?”

“Sorry Mommy.” Caroline just nodded and headed toward the entryway. The gallery was packed. She was not sure what she expected. She knew Klaus’s business was successful, given the fact that he had money to throw around, but she never expected this popularity. She looked around, not knowing where to turn first.

“Caroline.” She turned when she heard Klaus’s voice. He came strolling towards her and her breath caught in her throat. He was wearing black slacks, a white button-down dress shirt and a suit jacket that had to be professionally tailored. He looked good and well put together that Caroline couldn’t help but flash back to the night they met. When he reached them, Klaus leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Thank you for coming. You look beautiful.”

“Of course, and thank you.”

“What about me Daddy?” Lizzie chimed in, not used to being ignored by her father. Klaus smiled widely and knelt down to his daughter. He pulled her to him and hugged her closely.

“I’m sorry little love. I didn’t recognize you for a second. All I saw was a young lady who was too grown up to be my daughter.” Lizzie giggled and threw her head back. “Don’t be silly! It’s just me.” Klaus went in and started pressing kisses all over her face, causing Lizzie to laugh even louder. Caroline could see the curious stares but it didn’t seem to be bothering to many people. Besides, this was Klaus’s place of business and if he felt comfortable enough for such displays of affection for his daughter, Caroline was not going to stop him.

“My man Klaus Mikaelson!” Caroline’s eyes turned to a tall dark man walking their way. He was impeccably dressed with a fedora on top of his head, giving him an eccentric look. He had a wide smile with impossibly white teeth. Klaus stood and greeted the man with a pat on the back. “You have out done yourself this time. I am impressed. I already have a few pieces that I am interested in buying.”

“Thank you. Your business is very much appreciated.” Klaus smiled at the man and Caroline could tell the two had a friendly relationship. “Come, there is someone I would like you to meet. Caroline, this is Marcel Gerard. He is an art collector from New Orleans. Marcel, this is Caroline.”

“A pleasure to finally put a name with such a beautiful face.” Before Caroline could reply, or unpack such a statement, Klaus narrowed his eyes at Marcel.

“Marcel. Behave.” Klaus uttered in warning. The other man just laughed and patted Klaus’s shoulder, showing that he meant no harm. Lizzie pulled on Klaus’s sleeve, not wanting to be forgotten. “And this beautiful lady is our daughter, Lizzie.” Marcel bent down to be at eye level with Lizzie, who beamed at him, appreciating the gesture.

“Well, I’ve heard many great things about you.”

“I know. My dad never stops talking about me.” Marcel just laughed at the reply and stood, shaking his head at Klaus. People sometimes blanched at Lizzie’s bluntness and confidence that Caroline found it amusing how some people reacted. While Lizzie was a loving child who cared deeply when others were hurting, she also demanded the room when she was in it.

“Well she is most certainly your child Klaus.” Marcel replied has he stood. Klaus just nodded and looked down fondly at his daughter. There was that soft smile that graced his lips whenever he looked at his daughter. Marcel turned to Caroline. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal Klaus for a minute? I’ll promise to have him back in one piece after a few minutes.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll only be a little bit. Okay? Take a look around and I’ll find you.” Caroline nodded and watched Klaus walk off with Marcel, the two clearly discussing business.

“Can I go over their Mommy? It’s Auntie Bex and Uncle Elijah.” Lizzie asked and Caroline turned to see both Rebekah and Elijah in deep conversation. She was surprised to see them at the gallery, for she did not realize that they came to Klaus’s showings. The Mikaelson siblings were always supportive of one another but to come to a random showing? She had to admire their loyalty.

“Sure, but make sure you stay in one of our sights at all times.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Caroline replied and watched as her daughter walked over to Elijah. She tugged on her uncle’s sleeve and Elijah smiled when he saw who was interrupting his conversation. Elijah bent down and hugged the little girl before Rebekah engulfed her into a hug herself. Elijah turned and smiled at Caroline, letting her know that he would watch Lizzie until she wanted to go back to her parents. She gave him a small wave and started weaving through the crowd.

She viewed the paintings and couldn’t help but notice something familiar about them. Some were bright, full of light and just had a feeling of warmth. Then there were others that were dark and have a hint of loneliness behind it. The artist clearly had a wide range of emotions and Caroline couldn’t help but connect with the art.

She rounded a slight corner and saw a collection that was roped off slightly. There was a plaque that had a description on it but it was the subject of the paintings. There were at least six paintings of a face she knew well; a face she loved more than her own self.

Lizzie.

Each painting had such love put into it that Caroline didn’t know if she could breath. There were paintings of Lizzie smiling, laughing and running. There was a painting of her in a tutu, dancing during her first ballet class. There was a painting of her sleeping with that blasted pink unicorn clutched to her chest. Each and every painting had bright colors, love and such devotion that Caroline could not question the love the artist felt for her daughter.

Then there was a painted in the center of them all. This was the only one that Lizzie shared the spotlight in. Lizzie was smiling widely and laughing, a tiara perched on her head. She was looking up to the other person in the painting. Caroline. The detail on her own appearance in the artwork was astounding, it did not just mirror Caroline, but the emotion that was written on her face echoed every moment her heart burst at the mere sight of her daughter. The artist had to of spent a good amount of time gazing at Caroline to be able to capture such an emotion perfectly.

Suddenly, it all made sense to Caroline.

This wasn’t some random art show for some random artist trying to get his big break. Why she saw both Rebekah and Elijah there-and was willing to bet Kol was lurking somewhere in the crowed. It made sense why Klaus would want Lizzie there. Why he wanted her there.

This was Klaus’ art show. He was showing his pieces to the world for the first time.

Overwhelmed, Caroline looked down and read the plaque that described the collection.

Little Love By: N. Mikaelson Collection not for sale.

“I had hoped that I would be the one to show you these.” Caroline turned around, to see Klaus standing before her. He looked bashful and vulnerable. He stepped forward and ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tears that she had not realized where falling. “Please know that I would never sell a painting of our daughter to some stranger but I had to show them.”

“Klaus. They are…I don’t know what to say.” Caroline looked back at the paintings. Each and every time she looked at them it was like watching Klaus hold their daughter for the first time all over again. That love a father can only have for his daughter was etched onto each and every canvas. “That painting of her and I…when?”

“I’ve seen you give her that look a thousand times Caroline. Even when we were not on the best of terms, no one could deny that you loved her.” A new wave of tears flooded down her cheeks. “I’ll admit that, that particular painting is newer but the sentiment remains the same.”

“Mommy! Daddy! I’m famous!” Lizzie’s voice chimed in as she came running towards them, a brochure waiving in the air. She shoved the paper into Caroline’s hand and pointed to a listing of the paintings and collections. At the very bottom, under the listing of Little Love there was a painting simply named A Mother’s Love. “There is a set named after me! Little Love! That’s me!”

“That’s right you are!” Klaus teased Lizzie but the little girl wasn’t looking at her father. Instead she was staring up at Caroline with a worried look on her face. She stepped forward and hugged Caroline around the waist.

“Why are you sad Mommy?” Lizzie asked and Caroline realized that she still was crying. Caroline bent down to be at eye level with her daughter.

“I’m not sad honey. I’m happy.” Caroline’s eyes glanced up at Klaus and she could see that he was taken aback. Slowly, a smile spread across his face and the dimples Caroline adored popped out. “I’m very, very happy.”

“So happy tears?”

“Yeah. Happy tears.”

“Okay!” Lizzie turned from her mother, satisfied that she was perfectly fine and turned to her father. “Can I see the pictures now!”

“Of course, little love.” Klaus reached out and lifted Lizzie into his arms. He picked her up easily and began pointing out each painting to her in detail, describing the moment he was trying to capture when he painted them. Caroline just stood there, watching them with that familiar flutter in her stomach, and she knew.

Before her stood the man, she had vowed to hate for all eternity. The man who she joked with Katherine, out of earshot of Lizzie, that was her enemy.

She was in love with him.

In the few short weeks that followed, Caroline did not know how to act. Something had changed between Klaus and Caroline. She examined every inch of her feelings and went over every possibility of when they changed from her hating him to falling completely in love with him. She had no answers to that question, only that she was somewhere in the middle before she knew what she was feeling.

Caroline’s birthday fell on a random Tuesday in October. It was Klaus’s week to have Lizzie but offered to let Caroline have her instead. She shook her head, stating that she would do something with Lizzie the upcoming Saturday instead. However, Caroline did take off work, using her birthday as an excuse, but in all reality, it was to obsess over if she should tell Klaus how she felt.

What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he did? There were so many things to consider and the biggest one would be Lizzie. What if he did feel the same and they began to build something between them? What if Lizzie gets comfortable with them being together and then they break up? Could she put her daughter through that?

All those thoughts ran through her head as she heard a knock on her front door. Caroline pulled herself from her sofa and went over to answer the door. Behind it was a delivery man and Caroline creased her eyebrows. She hadn’t ordered anything but the delivery man held out a slip for her to sign. She could see a large package behind him and she was curious as to its contents. Caroline signed the slip and took the package inside. It was lighter than she was expecting, given its size. Carefully, she tore the brown packaging paper to revel a canvas.

It was the painting of herself and Lizzie from Klaus’s art show. Caroline lowered herself to the ground in order to look at the painting face on. Being so up close and personal to it was different from viewing it at the gallery. It was just as beautiful but she could see each stroke of the brush and effort put into both herself and Lizzie’s appearance. After what seemed to be forever, Caroline slowly stood and picked up the painting. A small card slipped out from the back and landed on the floor. She careful leaned the painting against the wall, unsure where she was going to put it yet, and bent down to pick up the card.

Happy Birthday, Caroline. Klaus.

It was as though a damn broke through her emotion and Caroline’s decision was made. She quickly slipped on a pair of boots, grabbed a coat and dashed out to her car. She drove through the busy streets of Richmond and pulled into the parking lot of Klaus’s apartment complex. She knew he would be home, or at least she hoped. Due to their prior conversations, Klaus had told her that he typically only worked the mornings at the gallery during his week with Lizzie.

She pulled into an empty spot and all but ran to the front door of the apartment building. She knew it would be locked, for only tenants could get in without a key. She looked for the bell of Klaus’s apartment and rang it. She prayed that he was home.

“Hello?” Klaus’s voice sounded through the speaker and Caroline let out the breath she had been holding.

“Klaus? It’s Caroline. Can I come up?”

“Yeah. Sure.” She could tell that he sounded confused at the fact that she was there. After a second, Caroline heard the click of the lock and that the door to the building was open. She made her way inside and headed towards Klaus’s apartment. Once she reached it, the door was already open and Klaus was leaning against its frame with his arms crossed. Caroline brushed past him and stepped inside.

She had not been in his apartment since the night that Lizzie was conceived. It still had the large windows and brick walls along the far wall. The building used to be an old factory during the Civil War that was reconstructed into apartments. She could see his artwork on the walls but pictures of Lizzie and his family also decorated the walls. She could see toys that clearly belonged to his daughter on the floor and her one coat hanging off a chair. Olaf ran over to her quickly, his bushy white tale wagging widely. Caroline bent down to put him and rub his belly, knowing that he would not leave her to speak with Klaus until he received some sort of attention.

“Thank you.” She whispered, as she stroked Olaf. “For the painting. Thank you.”

“It’s your birthday. There is no need to thank me.” Klaus shrugged. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She looked down at her hands, a question burning at her lips to be formed.

“What changed? Between us?” Klaus just looked at her in confusion but there was an understanding behind his eyes. “Months ago, you and I couldn’t be in the same room without it derailing into an argument. Now you’re sending me paintings and we talk every day and…. you’ve become one of the most important people in my life. What changed?”

“I fucked up.” Klaus replied simply and Caroline blanched. Out of everything, that was not the response she was expecting. “When I first learned you were pregnant. I reacted badly.”

“Understatement of the century.” Caroline replied and Klaus just smirked and nodded.

“I didn’t want to believe you. That night we spent together was…amazing. When you called me, I thought you were reaching to, I don’t know. Maybe grab dinner? See where things went between us? Maybe just to go another round?” Caroline snorted at that. “I wasn’t ready to be a dad and I took it out on you. I said horrible things and did horrible things.”

“Yes. You did.” Caroline replied. “But you weren’t the only one the blame Klaus. I held onto that hurt and anger for a long time. I tried so hard to hang onto all awful things you’ve done, forgetting that everyone deserves a second chance.”

“I know and I deserved all that anger. I know that Caroline.” Klaus admitted. “When Lizzie was born, it really changed everything for me. I loved her instantly and I knew that you would always be apart of my life. I wanted to do better and be better for Lizzie’s sake. I bought you that bracelet as a peace offering, hoping that we could start over. Maybe actually get to know one another and maybe…I don’t…see where things went.”

“But I was so angry at you.” Caroline felt her heart drop. If she had just been nicer to him in those beginning days when Lizzie was born, maybe things would be different. She knew he wasn’t innocent and that their relationship took a two-way street but he had tried. She didn’t. “And eventually, you gave up.”

“Rather quickly actually. Then things just fell back to how they were when you where pregnant and it was just…easier I guess.”

“Then what changed?”

“Remember, that night at the hospital, when Lizzie had that ear infection.” Caroline nodded, remembered how much that high Lizzie’s fever had been and how it had worried her.

“You told me that you knew I was a good dad and that at the end of the day, you knew I would always be there for Lizzie. To be honest with you Caroline, I had assumed that you thought I was the worst dad in the world and that if it wasn’t for the court order, I would never see Lizzie.”

“What?!” Caroline was actually shocked. She knew that their relationship was bad but she never thought Klaus felt as though she would keep Lizzie from him. “I would never, ever keep Lizzie from you. Yes. I didn’t always agree with your choices and I sure as hell know you didn’t always agree with mine but you’re her father Klaus. She loves you and no matter what happens between us, no matter what this” Caroline pointed between them, “is, you would always have an open door to her.”

“I know that now. It was a hard realization but that night, sitting in the middle of an emergency hospital room, I realized that we could do better. We actually talked that night and well, I just wanted more.” Klaus said and gave her a small smile. “Then, over time I got to know you. You became so much more than just the mother of my daughter. You became Caroline and you made me question everything.”

“Yeah. You became more than the narcissistic asshole that knocked me up.” Klaus snorted at that, wondering how many times she had called him that over the years. It was her go too insults for him.

“So, what is this?” He replied, pointing between them, mimicking the motion she made moments before. “Why did you really come here today? It wasn’t because of the painting.”

“Because…” Caroline’s thoughts were jumping back and forth. Did she confess how she felt for him, taking that giant leap that could leave her crashing and burning? Or did she keep the good thing they had going but know that it would hurt her to watch him eventually move on with his life, only keeping her as a friend? “Fuck it.”

With that, Caroline marched forward and slammed her lips to Klaus’s. He was shocked at first but once he realized that this was for real, Klaus pulled Caroline to him and put everything he had into that kiss. Caroline weaved her things through his blond curls and arched her back, pressing her chest as closely to him as she could. Klaus bit down lightly on her lip when the kiss broke apart. Their eyes locked for a moment and she could see Klaus searching for answers.

“Caroline?”

“I came here because I want this. I want you and me and Lizzie. I want joint parent teacher conferences and family dinners. I want to curl up on the couch with you after Lizzie goes to bed. I want to come to your gallery openings and for you to smirk at my articles, making snide comments when you disagree with something. I want to make love to you at night and share those stupid secret smiles couples have when they share something.” Caroline rambled on and Klaus just let her, a wide goofy smile on his lips. “I want to be a family Klaus. With you. Because I love you.”

Klaus crashed his lips to Caroline’s again. It was bruising and passionate. Caroline wrapped her arms around his shoulders and opened her lips to allow for Klaus’s tongue entrance. She felt herself go weak at the taste of him, remembering exactly what that tongue was capable of. Klaus’s hands were roaming all over her body, feeling every curve his hands could grip.

Caroline pushed his Henley upward until Klaus was forced to end their kiss in order to pull it over his head. As quickly as he tossed it aside, his lips where back onto her. Caroline touched his chest, her nails dragging down the length of his abs, while Klaus’s hands gripped her hips, bringing her as close to him as possible.

“Bedroom. Now.” Caroline whispered. She didn’t care if it was mid-afternoon; it was her birthday after all. Klaus laced their fingers together and quickly was dragging her down the hall towards his bedroom. Once inside, Caroline stopped him at the end of the bed and gently pushed him down upon it. He simply cocked his eyebrow at her in question. Caroline smirked before she straddled him. “Shh. Just relax.”

She leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips before placing a kiss on the base of his neck. She nipped and sucked his pulse for a moment, knowing that she would leave a mark. Klaus hissed when she bit just slightly too hard, but he didn’t tell her to stop. She began to move her lips downward, her tongue peaking out to lick and suck on his skin. She used her teeth to nip at his nipples while one of her hands scratched the other one.

As she made her way down his chest and stomach, Caroline’s eyes peaked upward. Klaus was staring down at her, his eyes filled with desire, causing her panties to become painfully wet. She kissed the skin that was just above the waist of his pants while her hands worked on undoing his belt. Once the buckle was undone, Caroline pulled the zipper down and roughly yanked his pants down his hips. Klaus lifted up slightly and made her job slightly easier. Once his pants were down around his ankles, Caroline eyed his penis. She remembered vividly what that felt like to be inside her. She leaned down, kissed the side of his thighs teasingly.

“Caroline.” Klaus hissed out her name, his erection straining painfully. She smirked evilly before leaning in and kissed the tip of his penis, once…. twice…three times before engulfing him fully; her tongue swirling around the length of him. “Jesus Fuck. Just like that.”

Klaus threw his head back and Caroline could see his eyes fluttering shut. His one hand reached down and gripped her blonde hair, massaging her head as she bobbed up and down. Caroline reached up and cupped his balls, rolling them gently in her hands as he muttered incoherent words. She could tell that he was close to finding his release and Caroline added a slight bit more pressure…just enough for-

“Daddy! I’m home!”

Caroline shot up as though she had been shocked, topping from the bed as she went. Landing on her back, Caroline covered her face with her hands, praying that her daughter didn’t come any closer to Klaus’s bedroom. Klaus jumped from the bed and ran over to his pants, pulling them on quickly.

“I’ll be out in a second Lizzie! Shit. Shit. Shit.” Klaus zipped up his pants and buckled the belt. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” He held out his hand to Caroline, helping her up from the floor. Her face was still bright red with embarrassment. This has never happened to her before. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I cannot believe forgot that she would be coming home soon.”

“Well we were kind of distracted.” Klaus replied, with a smirk. He leaned and kissed her gently. It was different from the kisses they shared earlier. This one was soft, warm and full of promise. “Get cleaned up and stay for dinner. Spend the evening with Lizzie and I, she would love that and then later we can-“

“Talk?”

“I was going to say pick up where we left off but sure.”

“Or we could do both.”

“Both sounds good.” Caroline smiled cheekily at him and gave him another peck. It was quick because they both knew if they dawdled any longer, Lizzie would come looking for him and would have many questions as to, not only why her mother was there but why was she in his bedroom of all places. Klaus moved towards his bedroom door and looked back at her. “And for the record Caroline, I love you too.”

#klaroline #kcauweek2020 #klaroline fanfiction #caroline x klaus #i'm super proud of this #turned out better than I was expecting #got a bit long #sorry not sorry

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years

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El Amor Todo Lo Puede Chapter 35: Danger and Pain

Chapters 1-31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34

The New York legal and penal systems were massive, ponderous bureaucracies that took forever to get anything done, and where mistakes happened with deplorable regularity. One of those common, administrative, regrettable but seemingly innocuous mistakes was not notifying Olivia Benson or Rafael Barba when Andrew Rhee somehow managed to get paroled from Riker’s Island. Which was supposed to have been flagged as a critical notification, because Andrew Rhee had sworn, often and on the record, that his first act as a free man would be to kill Rafael Barba.

Andrew Rhee was vicious. His barbaric treatment of the women he’d trafficked and put to work on the streets was notorious even for that monstrous business. Building and prosecuting the case that put him away was one of SVU’s proudest achievements. It had been hideous, tedious, heartbreaking work that took almost a year of slowly, painstakingly building trust with women who were too brutalized even to care about themselves, let alone to believe in the possibility of justice.

Their stroke of luck, if you could call it that, came from the fact that Rhee’s savagery extended to everyone he came across. He’d betrayed a low-level pimp who had turned out to be even more vindictive than Rhee was. That had led to a wiretapped phone call, a recorded meeting, and an arrest on charges related to running the prostitution ring as well as conspiracy related to laundering the money from that ring. It wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t what they’d wanted or Rhee had deserved, but at least Rhee was in prison. Until he wasn’t.

*****

Laura felt a large, warm hand snaking up from the back of her thigh, over her buttocks, and onto her back.

“It’s the middle of the night,” she whined thickly into her pillow.

“It’s six a.m. And since when do you complain when I wake you up the middle of the night?”

Laura pulled her pillow over her head. “Because this time you’re going to tell me it’s morning.”

“It is morning.”

“Told you.”

Rafael could hear muttered Spanish curses emanating from under the pillow. He smiled as he scooted closer and began to kiss his way from Laura’s shoulder to her back, and down her flank, chuckling victoriously as he felt her roll over to give him access to her breasts.

“I thought we were working on making you more of a morning person.”

“Understandable mistake. You like morning sex. I just like the sex part, not the morning part.”

Rafael’s cheerful, dirty, promising laugh against her skin swept away the last of Laura’s sleepiness. She emerged from under her pillow to scoot closer to Rafael, running her hands over the parts of him she could reach. He was in a raunchy mood this morning, having been awakened by a very sexy dream, and by the time they had enjoyed all the positions he had in mind, they had to scramble to make it to work on time.

*******

The juxtaposition of the two phone calls probably saved Rafael’s life. The unit wasted no time making the connection because, at the same time Chief Dodds called Olivia to notify her of Rhee’s parole, Carmen called Laura to ask why Rafael hadn’t shown up for work.

Amanda Rollins immediately got online, working to find Rafael’s car using license plate recognition programs available to the NYPD. That part was easy, too, because there was already a police report regarding the silver-blue Audi, abandoned still running and with the door open two blocks from Rafael’s office. Without discussion, the entire squad grabbed coats and sped to the location.

The passenger’s-side rear of the car showed clearly that it had been rammed off the street and into a street lamp, which was now embedded in the front grille. There was blood on the drivers’ seat and the door.

Olivia tried to tell Laura that she could not be involved in the investigation. That lasted four tense, growled sentences between the two.

“You’re too personally involved.”

“I’m going to help find him. Liv, you know I trained under Hank Voight. Do you want to work together, or do you want me on my own?”

“Don’t threaten me. I’ll allow you to continue as long as you do exactly as I tell you. And you will not go Voight on this. You go outside those parameters, I’ll cuff you in the back of a squad for the duration. Are we clear?”

“We’re clear.”

Laura wanted to work as part of the team. She had worked for Olivia long enough now to develop a primary instinct to do things right. But she wondered whether there was anything Benson, Fin, or anyone else could do to stop her from doing whatever it took to find Rafael. She doubted it. She clamped down on her fear, channeling all her energy into the laser focus and organized, systematic working of the situation she had been trained for. Find the bastard and get Rafael back alive. That was the mission. Emotion had no place here. Had anyone from CPD Intelligence been there, they would have recognized in Laura the beady-eyed, steely wiredness that Voight got when he was on the hunt.

Canvassing the area for witnesses, and collecting and reviewing footage from the many video cameras in the area seemed to take longer than it ever had before. The entire team was angry, on-edge, and restless. Laura was the one romantically involved with him, but Barba was a key member of the team, important to all of them. He was family. And he was in the hands of a vicious bastard who had vowed to kill him. They were all spoiling for a fight, not least Olivia Benson.

They found no witnesses who could tell them anything the first video camera didn’t. The city traffic camera on the corner nearest the crash scene showed a black SUV intentionally and ruthlessly ramming Rafael’s Audi into the streetlight, pinning it so it couldn’t move. The squad immediately began to assess everything in every frame of the video for information that would guide their next steps. They were able to read the license plate of the SUV, which had been reported stolen the night before. Laura and Fin were dispatched to talk to the owner, to see what they could learn that may lead them to Rhee.

And the video clearly showed that it was Rhee who had crashed Rafael’s car and forced him at gunpoint into the back seat of the SUV. The squad was alarmed to see that, prior to even forcing him from the car, Rhee had brutally pistol-whipped Rafael. The level of anger in that short few frames was terrifying. Rafael did not have a lot of time.

As Fin and Laura tore out to interview the owner of the stolen SUV, Rollins and Carisi began combing traffic footage from the time of the crash looking for where the SUV had gone. Olivia worked the phones. She ordered the entire file and all the evidence on the Rhee case delivered to the squad room emergently, then began to gather all the intel possible on Rhee’s known associates and what they’d been doing since he’d been in prison. After that, she got to work on all his communications while he was in Riker’s – all phone calls and visitors.

*******

The abandoned old house on Long Island took forever to reach. Rafael’s head was pounding, his face bleeding freely, and Rhee’s first action upon shoving him into the back seat of the SUV was to cuff his hands behind him so that he had no way of stemming the flow of blood. He was alarmed at the size of the ever-increasing spot on the upholstery where his head lay.

He tried to talk to Rhee. Make a connection, right? Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do? Make the kidnapper see you as a person?

The problem was, Rhee already saw Barba as a person; a cocky, smart-ass lawyer with all the power of the state behind him, who had stood up in court for five days talking filth and telling lies about Rhee and his businesses. Disrespect didn’t come close to what he’d done to Rhee. The cops, Rhee didn’t give a damn about. Cops were impotent vermin he could outsmart any day of the week. But this little fuck, poncing around in his faggy suits, using twenty-dollar words when one syllable would do, convinced of his own superiority over someone like Rhee, getting Rhee sent to rot in prison… Oh, yeah. This prick had to die. And he would. But first, he was going to suffer.

He’d begun to plan his revenge even before the verdict came down. Rhee had plenty of friends. There weren’t a lot of people he trusted, but there were plenty of people about whom he knew things that could get them killed or busted. Plenty of people who owed him, or were afraid enough of him to do whatever he asked. So he’d learned about Barba – his home address, his family, his schedule, and he’d kept tabs on him. Anyone with Rhee’s connections could get that kind of information. He was sorry that his information indicated Barba was some sort of a monk – he would have liked to find some little piece of ass Barba was sweet on and make him watch while Rhee tore them apart in every sense of the phrase. Oh, well.

It was clear to Rafael that he wasn’t going to be bonding with Rhee when, at the first opportunity, Rhee had pulled off the road and given him a solid fist to the mouth.

“Next time it’s my foot. Shut the fuck up.”

Being Barba, however, he’d spit out the blood and tried again a few minutes later. This time, he reminded Rhee about the number of times he’d threatened Barba in front of cops, fellow attorneys, and even the trial judge. Rhee had not made himself popular with New York law enforcement, even before he’d finally been caught. He was slippery and had relished every opportunity to taunt the cops, right up until Lieutenant Benson had finally found a way to arrest him.

“You know it’s going to be obvious this was you. You might kill me, but you’ll just go right back to Riker’s. And this time, you won’t see the light of day again. Think about that.”

“Fuck you. Shut up!”

“You wanna stay out? Just pull over and let me out. That’s it. It ends here, we both go on with our lives.”

This time, Rhee used the duct tape he’d brought. He’d kind of been hoping for some crying and begging, which is why he’d left it off before. He should’ve known this arrogant little asshole wouldn’t cooperate.

Rafael tried not to wonder whether anyone had noticed him missing yet.

*******

Fin leaned hard on his forearm against the throat of the guy pressed up to the wall of his stuffy, cluttered office at the back of his Asian restaurant.

“You really, really wanna talk right now. ‘Cuz your buddy’s gone and kidnapped a D.A., and nobody’s gonna blink if I mess up a lowlife like you gettin’ him back.”

The fear and pain on the fat man’s face didn’t stop him from gulping air and telling Fin to go to hell. Fin heard Laura unsnap her holster and draw her Glock.

“Move, Fin.”

“You hear that? My partner’s done with this polite chat we’re havin’. She ain’t gon’ shoot you in the head, neither, ya feel me?”

“Screw you,” the fat man coughed out.

Fin pulled him from the wall and shoved him, bodily, into a sitting position in his chair. Laura stepped to him and put the muzzle of her gun into his crotch. He froze, breathing heavily, his eyes round as he looked from Fin to Laura.

“You sure about this, Killa?” Fin looked concerned. Laura honestly didn’t know whether the concern was an act for the benefit of the fat guy coughing and sweating in the chair. It wasn’t an act. Fin knew more than anyone how serious things had become between his partner and Barba. That, combined with the look on her face and the rusty iron in her voice, made it less than even money that she was bluffing.

“I’m gonna count to three, and then I’m gonna make you real sorry you didn’t just answer my partner’s questions. One.”

“Fuck you. You can’t do this-“

“You’re watching me do it. Two.”

“You can’t – I can’t tell you anything. Rhee’s a maniac. He’ll kill me.”

“You probably won’t care that much once I shoot off your dick. Three-“

“OK! OK! Fuck!”

Laura didn’t shoot, but didn’t move the gun, either. In fact, she shoved it painfully into his groin.

“Talk. Now.”

According to the fat man, Rhee had been working with some of his former associates while he was in prison, paying them through a girlfriend with access to his hidden bank accounts. At first, he’d just been buying information about the D.A. who had sent him up. More recently, when it looked like Rhee might be able to make a deal that would get him out early, he’d wanted more concrete things. Exactly what, the fat man didn’t know. But he knew enough to have no doubt Rhee had taken that D.A., and had some grisly plans for him.

Having exhausted threats, Laura had broken the guy’s nose getting the names of the former associates who had helped Rhee prepare to kidnap Rafael.

“Dude’s nose was already broken when we got there,” Fin noted as they rushed out of the restaurant to their squad car.

“Whatever,” Laura agreed. “How’d I get his blood on me?”

“You’re a helper.”

“Ah.”

“Call Liv. Let her know where we’re headed.”

*******

The walk from the car past the ramshackle, weed-choked house was unpleasant but uneventful. Rafael was not about to try anything physical. Not with his hands cuffed behind him and his ears still ringing from Rhee’s latest punch in his face, administered as he pulled Rafael from the car and threatened more if he tried anything. He wondered what Laura would do in his position. She probably wouldn’t be in this position, he thought. She’d have kicked the guy’s teeth down his throat, arrested him, and be explaining to me right now why it wasn’t her fault while I gave her shit about it. The thought of Laura, going about her day, having no idea what was happening to him, made him physically sick. Or maybe that was the blows to the head. In any event, he couldn’t think about her. It made his heart hurt to think what she would go through when she learned he’d been abducted. And probably killed.

Rhee pushed Rafael ahead of him to an outbuilding that was as dilapidated as the house. Rafael saw when he was shoved through the door that it was a stable that had apparently housed horses at one time. The first room had been a tack room; there were hooks and shelves for harnesses and saddles, and a sort of built-in series of cupboards. From there, they passed into the stable itself and he saw that one stall had been fitted with floor to ceiling iron bars. Given the fresh sawdust and the debris of a wooden gate that had been removed, Rafael guessed this crude cell had been built especially for him. Lovely. He tried very hard to be annoyed. It helped keep the terror at bay.

*******

Between them, the squad determined which two of Rhee’s “associates” named by the fat man were most likely to know where he was. Fin and Laura went to see one, while Olivia and Carisi went to the other. Rollins stayed in the squad room, coordinating communication and trying to keep control of the help being offered by Chief Dodds and D.A. McCoy. She sent the extra detectives provided by Dodds to see the other associates on the fat man’s list. She tasked the investigators on loan from the D.A.’s office with reviewing traffic cam footage and the files from SVU’s previous investigation of Rhee.

They would find Barba in time. They had to.

*******

The madam Fin and Laura burst in on looked very young to be running a brothel staffed by underage boys and girls tricked into believing they had been offered opportunities in the U.S. and then, upon arrival, forced into sexual slavery. She also looked very old to be as young as she was. Too bad. She could be a victim another day. Today she was standing between SVU and getting Rafael home safely.

Fin tried to bully her. She’d been bullied for as long as she could remember by men who hit first and threatened later. Laura tried to shame her. She laughed. Fin tried to bribe her. She was interested, but ultimately couldn’t agree to a deal because she knew what Rhee would do to her. Laura smacked her around a bit, and that seemed to have a small effect, but not nearly enough. Fin raged and threatened all kinds of legal and financial disasters if she didn’t cooperate. Although that had no effect, the difference between her reactions to Fin and her reactions to Laura told them both what would work. They didn’t need to discuss it. They’d been working together long enough and closely enough to have little need for words in this situation.

“Fin,” Laura said quietly. “Get out of here.”

Fin turned to her from where he’d been standing, looming over the madam. He didn’t say anything, just looked at Laura.

“Take a walk,” she said in that hard, cruel voice he’d heard when she’d spoken to the fat man, made more threatening by the fact that now she was almost whispering.

“Man, I don’t know…”

“You don’t want to be here for this.”

“Killa, you know we’re already on thin ice…”

“Don’t worry. You weren’t here.”

The madam looked from one to the other, fear showing on her face for the first time. Laura reached down and lifted a pant leg, pulling a knife from a sheath strapped to her ankle. Fin walked past Laura to the door.

Keeping her eyes on the madam, she said to Fin, “Go.”

“I’ll be right outside the door,” he told her.

“Don’t worry about what you hear.”

“I ain’t tryna hear nothing,” he said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Laura was shaking as she approached the madam. The madam noticed that. She also noticed the subtle but unmistakable muscle definition in Laura’s arms, and the animal way she moved. She’d noticed the blood on Laura’s shirt the minute they’d walked into the room, but hadn’t thought much about it until this moment. That, and the look on Laura’s face, made the madam wonder whether Rhee was the one she needed to be afraid of right that moment. Had she ever heard the name Hank Voight, she would have known the answer.

Fin heard a harsh exchange of words too quiet to make out, then a stifled cry of pain followed by heavy breathing. He hoped he wasn’t hearing the end of his and Laura’s police careers. Then he thought about what he knew about Andrew Rhee, and the fact that Barba was in Rhee’s control right this minute. He pointedly ignored the scuffles and muffled screams that came through the door over the next five minutes.

When Laura came out of the room, she closed the door before Fin could see the madam. There was fresh blood on Laura’s shirt and arm and she was wiping the tip of her knife with a tissue.

“She’ll be fine. There’s a house on Long Island. We need to get back to the station.”

*******

Rhee had apparently not been to the house before. He threw Rafael into the cell, gave him a few halfhearted kicks in the ribs, then closed and locked the bars at the entrance. Through his one good eye, Rafael saw him check out the soundness of the bars, then look around the stable, lifting objects and opening boxes stacked near the wall opposite the cell. There were tools in one of the boxes. Pliers. Jumper cables. And in a plastic case, there were vials and syringes. Rafael began to gag just as Rhee left the stable, giving no hint of where he was going, or when he would return.

The late winter afternoon light was almost gone.

*******

Amanda had made good use of the investigators and extra detectives in the squad room. They had learned quite a bit about Rhee and the people he’d been involved with before his incarceration. They were fairly sure they’d identified his girlfriend, and Amanda had sent two detectives to find her and bring her back. If anyone knew where Rhee would go, she should.

Fin and Laura arrived at the squad room just before Benson and Carisi. The two of them had obtained a list of some of the things Rhee had obtained from prison. It wasn’t good. Olivia had decided that Laura didn’t need to know everything on the list. They would talk about the food and other survival supplies. She didn’t need to know about the other things.

Laura reported what the madam had told her. The madam hadn’t known much about where it was, but she knew that there had been a house out a ways on Long Island that had been a brothel, but was no longer used after Rhee went to prison. Pressed, the madam had said that it took somewhere between one and two hours to get there from Manhattan, and that it was in the middle of nowhere.

Once they knew they were looking on Long Island, the places to look for the SUV on traffic cameras narrowed significantly. To get from lower Manhattan to Long Island, Rhee would have to cross the East River, and it made sense to start with the bridges closest to the crash scene. Knowing the time of the crash and the direction Rhee likely went, the D.A.’s investigators divided up the potential routes and scoured traffic, and found the SUV crossing the Williamsburg Bridge about twenty minutes after the crash. It was impossible to see the men in the SUV, so there was no way to tell what Rafael’s condition had been at that point. But it was a start.

The problem was, there were too many places to look once the SUV crossed into Brooklyn. At first, they easily followed it along the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. But that ended once the SUV reached the massive, tangled interchange where the BQE met the Long Island and Queens Midtown Expressways, an impossible snarl of highways with innumerable ramps and service roads. With the added problem of inoperative cameras at some locations, after an hour and a half of looking, they had simply lost the SUV and had too many choices to quickly pick it up again.

Everyone’s taut nerves jangled with irritation and several none-too-professional exchanges occurred before D.A. McCoy quietly but firmly put an end to them and refocused efforts. He put his most computer-savvy investigators on mining real estate records, matching them against the names of known Rhee associates and businesses he had owned or been involved with. If they couldn’t find the SUV, they needed to find the house.

******

Olivia refused to allow Laura anywhere near the interrogation of Rhee’s girlfriend. Laura figured that she wouldn’t be able to be very effective in questioning her, anyway. Laura was too liable to go off, given her anxiety level and the lateness of the hour, and she knew neither Dodds nor McCoy would tolerate any Voight-level tactics. She wished Voight was here. She desperately wished Rafael was here.

At that moment, Laura promised herself that, when she saw him next, she was going to tell Rafael the truth about her feelings for him. However frightening it might be to him, he deserved to know that she was in love with him. She began to think about the possibility that he might die without ever hearing that from her, but the tears that threatened were mercilessly blinked away and the thoughts pushed roughly down. There was work to do. Rafael was out there, in pain and in extreme danger.

*******

Rhee returned about two hours after he’d left. When he let himself into the makeshift cell, there wasn’t much Rafael could do, handcuffed and lying on the filthy, straw-strewn floor. Even when he saw the syringe in Rhee’s hand, he could only kick at him and struggle away, until Rhee used his weight to pin Rafael’s legs and shoved the needle roughly through his shirt and into his arm.

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #rafael barba #raul esparza #chicago pd #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago justice #Law & Order Jack McCoy #olivia benson

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lostinsantacarla · 5 years

Text

A Visitor from SoCal

Note: Thought I might share a snippet of what we’ve been writing. This story takes place shortly before Mae is introduced to the rest of the Lost Boys gang inside the old hotel. The parts for Mae and Veronica were written by @thesparklingpariah /Marko and David are all mine. ;-)

Mae kept no set schedule, preferring to come and go as she pleased, since the whims of the paying public were extremely fickle. What that meant in English was that she took random days off, depending on how busy things were the day before. Yesterday had been a good day for sales, so she’d decided to treat herself to a day of being lazy, which had culminated in a walk along the pier all the way to the end, just because she felt like it. The breeze was cool this far along the water, and she stood by the railing, her eyes closed as she took it all in. Mae was the only person at the edge; most of the tourists were either heading home or still on the rides. The end of summer meant fewer guests and space was no longer at a premium.

The relative silence was broken by the tide…and the click of heels along the wooden boards. If it weren’t for the wind blowing in just the right direction at just the right time, Mae would have ignored whoever was heading her way, but the scent on the wind made her heart sink to her feet: the sickly sweet smell of decay and the heady florals of Marc Jacobs perfume. Shit. Mae whipped around, coming face to face with a woman she hoped to never see again: Veronica, “daughter” of Miguel, third-in-command of the Los Angeles coven. Her ex-girlfriend.

“Hello, sweetie.” Veronica purred, her deep, rich voice curling around Mae’s ears like a cat. She’d never trusted cats.

“Veronica. I assume this isn’t a friendly visit?” Mae growled, sticking her hands in her pockets. She wrapped her hand around her switchblade.

“Just here to see how you’re doing.” Veronica shrugged, her own hands in her Armani jacket. Despite the strong breeze, she looked perfectly unruffled.

“You mean you’re here to see if I’m still alive.”

“Precisely.”

Marko had just punched out for the night, his jacket hanging haphazardly over one shoulder as he slipped out the back doors and into the narrow, makeshift alley behind the Seabreeze.

His pockets were full of dough, tips from the many patrons he’d served, and the dollars kept falling out, even after he’d secured the colorful garment over both shoulders. It put a smile on his face as he bent down to pick them up one by one, chasing after a couple as the breeze from the ocean tried to sweep them away.

One foot stepped out of the shadows and his keen ears caught the echo of voices in the opposite direction. One was familiar, and he straightened, sniffing the air.

He’d only scented Mae once, but he never forgot it, and knew right away that one of the figures was her. The second, another female, was not human at all, but it was not one of theirs. This was cause for concern. It seemed that even with all of Dwayne’s efforts, their borders kept getting breached.

He growled, shaking his head as he turned and made haste, cursing his beloved town for always stirring things up when all he wanted to do was smoke a joint with Paul, get some fresh blood in his gut, and then head on over to Cassidy’s.

He slowed as he neared the two, getting a good eyeful of the other female, just to make sure he knew what he was up against. Then with a smile that could melt the panties off a human woman, he sauntered up. “Evenin,'” he greeted, taking a firm stance in front of them, while managing to keep it somewhat congenial by sticking his hands in his loaded pockets.

Veronica’s gaze could seduce both men and women, regardless of their preferences, and then stab them in the alley and take all their money. A hint of malice lay behind her eyes; Mae was sure that Veronica expected her to be the same weak-hearted girl she was when Veronica dumped her. Mae refused to be cowed. Those days were over.

“Well, here I am. ALIVE.” Mae looked down her nose at Veronica, her posture rigid. Túlio had spent weeks trying to teach her poise and elegance so she could fit in with the “posh” sides of vampire society, and that included how to stare down an enemy when you couldn’t kill them. She wasn’t sure it was working.

“That you are, sweetie.” Veronica laughed, the sound deceptively gentle.

“So what are you going to do now?” Mae raised an eyebrow, mentally back again in the trenches of the L.A. vampire world.

Before Veronica could speak, Marko appeared out of nowhere, seemingly. Mae felt a bit of relief; they’d only met once, but he was one of David’s men, and that meant protection, or at least, someone to keep an eye on Veronica. The woman in question turned to face him, sniffing haughtily at him.

“And who are you?” Her voice dripped with disdain. “Who do you serve?”

One of Marko’s eyebrows shot straight up at the nerve of this vampire in his town, asking HIM who he was and who he served, so naturally, he turned cheeky and his grin went from ear to ear.

“Satan. Hell… but mostly, I serve myself.” It didn’t seem like his grin could get any bigger, but it did, taking on that Cheshire cat presence before he spoke again. “Oh, and uh, sometimes when I’m feelin’ nice, the newbie’s like Mae, who might need a hand. ‘Cuz you just never know when some stray mutt is gonna come wandering into town, ya know?”

He shrugged, but even in that smile his expression changed. It challenged the newcomer, the intruder, and he changed his position, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans.

Mae wasn’t sure if Veronica would put up a fight, but if she did, and Marko won, that could mean trouble for Santa Carla. Miguel, like all the older vampires she knew, was a vindictive son of a bitch. She projected her thoughts towards Marko as best as she could, hoping that Veronica was too caught up in herself to pick up on what Mae was doing.

Don’t kill her! It’ll just cause trouble. Her father’s the leader of the Los Angeles coven, and there’s hundreds of them!’ Mae hoped it would come across clearly. She did her best to look calm, but she was barely keeping herself from shaking in rage and panic. Being confronted with a visual and verbal reminder that she’d been sent away to die (with her best friend in the world seemingly kept in the dark about it) destroying what little calm she ever had around Veronica before this.

“Very funny, little man. Are all you backwater vampires like this, or are you just a special case. Who. Do. You. Serve?” Veronica repeated haughtily.

“They don’t play that game out here, Veronica.” Mae tried to stop her ex from further antagonizing Marko, but she knew it was no use.

Marko shrugged carelessly, making it obvious that he was hearing something coming out of Mae’s mind. He had no intention of killing anybody in front of him, but he damn well wasn’t going to put up with the prissy, higher than thou attitude.

He kept quiet for a little while longer, starring down Veronica to see how pissed off she could get, all the while sending out a mental alert to David.

“Actually, I think we should turn this around. You can start by telling me who YOU serve and why the hell you’re running around my town acting like the Queen of fucking Egypt.”

“Veronica, daughter of Miguel, ruler of the Los Angeles coven and son of Dracula.” Veronica grinned, acting as if she’d drawn four aces in the world’s most unfair poker match. Mae wanted to smack her ex upside the head, but she DID recall that she was kind of like that too when she’d first met Marko. Still, that had been about survival, not showing someone up.

“I told you, V, they don’t play that game here. Names don’t mean anything.” Mae sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Look, you’ve gotten what you came for, okay? I’m still alive, I plan on staying alive, and if Miguel wants me dead, he better come up with a better way of doing it than this. Túlio will find out about all of this sooner or later, you know that, right? I know Miguel likes to make things into a telenovela, but this is getting old. Take your bitch ass home and leave me alone!” She snarled, her anger finally winning out over her good sense.

SMACK!

A loud slap rang across the pier as Veronica’s open palm connected with Mae’s cheek. “How DARE you speak of my father so poorly? And what is that you called me, Mae? A bitch? Sweetie, you think that’s an insult to me?” She sneered. “Remember your place.”

Marko didn’t get a chance to react. All he saw was a glimpse of something moving fast out of the corner of his eye and a savage roar, and he knew it was David.

The leader of the Santa Carla pack snarled and grabbed hold of the outsider, throwing her with ease down the length of the pier without care.

It was late enough now that no one would notice the scuffle, at least no human would.

He said nothing, but pulled Mae up behind him and took a hard stance, ready for anything this Veronica was willing to throw at him.

“You’re out of line.” His voice was deep and heavy and louder than usual. “You have no place here, and your filthy hands don’t belong anywhere on something that belongs to me now. You got a problem with that, crawl back to the one who sent her here to die.”

Now it was on, and Marko put on his game face. He didn’t change into the monster that he was, but he stood his ground beside David and Mae, looking down the pier to where the fallen lay.

He chuckled in spite of himself, eyeing Mae behind David and winked at her.

Veronica had no time to brace for the blow or dodge it, something the vampire wasn’t used to. She landed in a heap at the end of the pier, her face and any bare skin scraped from the force of the impact. Despite being dazed, she leapt to her feet, reeling from the blow. Her forte was speed and cunning; she stood no chance against a vampire that was this strong… and this angry, especially when he had an ally with him. Veronica considered drawing her knife, but she was above all else a survivor. Tonight wasn’t her night to die.

“So… I assume YOU’RE the one he serves. David, wasn’t it? We heard about you. Had a little trouble a few decades ago, right? You’ve recovered nicely. Congratulations.” She spat the blood out from her mouth where she’d bit into her cheek during her fall.

Mae placed her hand on David’s lower back, the gesture out of sight of Veronica, but she was sure Marko saw it. She was silently asking him to hold back. She nodded at Marko, then stepped to the left so she could see Veronica better. Her cheek was bright red.

“Go home, Veronica.” She growled, keeping her head held high despite the pain. “Tell Miguel to leave me alone. Túlio’s a good man; if Miguel wants to make him a psycho like you, he’ll never succeed. Tell him I’m staying here, in Santa Carla. He can have L.A.”

“… Got yourself a new boyfriend, huh?” Veronica sneered, deciding to throw in one last dig at Mae. “Or is this just an arrangement, huh? You always were a little slut.” She laughed, turning her attention to David. “You can keep her…for as long as it lasts. Miguel wants her dead, and Father always gets what he wants.”

Marko felt the air lighten around them as soon as Veronica departed and he blew air through his lips while running a hand through his messy curls. “Just another night, huh boss?”

David turned to Mae and cupped both her cheeks in his gloved hands, gently brushing over the red spot with his thumb. “You could say that,” he said to Marko. “We need better security around here.”

“Dwayne’s messing up? He’s gotten busy, what with a kid on the way.”

“Nah. I can’t expect him to keep his eyes on every single foot of ground we have here. It’s too vast. We’ll need to think of something else from now on. There’s too many coming through.” For a second he looked out to sea and then down at Mae. “You all right?”

“I will be.” Mae nodded, her voice shaky, just like the rest of her. She was doing her best to fight of the urge to cry, but her eyes were watering and her body was shivering. The adrenaline from the hit and the potential fight was beginning to wear off, and she finally felt the sting from the slap. She wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling, but anger was definitely warring for the top spot, followed closely by an utter breakdown. She hoped anger won.

She took a deep breath, then turned to face Marko. “Thank you. For helping me.” Mae didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Marko hadn’t come by.

“Yeah you owe me.” He jerked his head up and grinned. Of course he was teasing, but she was still new, and he couldn’t let her get off that easy. Besides, breaking the tension was the name of the game. He pulled a small bottle of rum from the inside of his jacket and offered it to her. “It’ll help take the edge off. Trust me. Still cold too, if ya just wanna hold it against your cheek.”

“Marko,” David warned, but he was only half serious. He wanted to brush it off as a victory, but there were too many things weighing on him now, even if the threat of a war with the vampires in LA was minimal compared to the angels ready to reign in hell and unleash it on Santa Carla.

Mae laughed it off. “Sure thing. Come by the booth. I’ll give you the friends and family discount.” She winked, taking the rum and drinking a mouthful before putting it on her face. “Damn, that feels good.”

After a few moments, she handed it back to Marko. “Don’t want it getting too warm.” She really wanted to lean into David and take a moment to collect herself, but she wasn’t sure he would welcome it in front of one of his men. Instead, she scrubbed at her eyes and glared at the empty end of the pier.

“You can see why we broke up.”

“She’s full of herself,” was all David had to say about that.

Marko nodded and took the bottle back before giving Mae a ‘see you later’ salute and headed on his way. He could tell by the look on David’s face that he needed a few moments alone with Mae.

After Marko was out of sight, he turned to Mae and examined her cheek a little closer. Considering the hit was from another vampire, the impact was a little more damaging than just a mortal’s slap. “You should put some ice on that. Or I could fix it for you right now. I just want you to know that I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe here, and now. I’d like to take you to our home tonight. If you’re willing to come.”

“THAT is an understatement.” Mae huffed, rubbing at her cheek.

She waved at Marko, watching him go until David faced her once again. Her first instinct was to blurt out something mushy, like ‘I’d go anywhere with you’, but luckily she saved herself from looking like an idiot. Still, she blushed a little, resting her hands on his waist. She was still fighting off tears, but she ignored them for now.

“Could you fix it, please?” She asked, smiling softly. “And yes. I’ll come home with you.” Then, she remembered something, and her grin became a strange mix of teasing and adoring.

“So… I belong to you now?”

David simply pierced the pad of his thumb with the extension of one of his claws and when a bead of his blood pooled there, he gently smeared it across her cheekbone, making sure it absorbed thoroughly before answering her. The effects of its healing ability would be instant and the pain would disappear.

He had noted her smile, acting as if it was nothing, something that important, even though it was. Getting a rise out of her was fun, and he pushed the moment to the point of no return, when there was no other choice but to answer. It was just like sex, letting the pleasure build until all there was left was an explosion that took you above the clouds and to the stars.

“Would it be a problem if I said you did?” He pulled his hand away from her cheek to admire his handy work. “I press the point of taking this slow, but you’re here now, and I just threatened another pack member’s existence, all for you.” Now he looked her directly in the eyes, his expression complete business. Yet behind that crystal blue there was an undenying look of need. “You are mine now, aren’t you?” Would he let her go even if she said no? Probably not.

Mae met his gaze, her own softening when she saw the deeply hidden need. He wanted her, and she wanted him. She’d wanted him since she met him, not just because she was lonely, but because he was so enchanting. Dark and brooding, like many of his kind, but also secretly gentle and caring, if you’d earned it. He’d nearly killed for her. He didn’t care what her connections were or where she came from, but who she was. She wanted him forever.

She’d be damned if she let him go.

“I was yours the moment I followed you out of the bar. You earned me when you didn’t care about who I knew, but who I am.” She smiled, the gesture no longer burdened by pain or fear.

“I’m yours, David. And you’re mine, aren’t you?”

There was a little hesitation on his end, only because sentimental words weren’t his forte and he was still afraid to make a mistake, yet as the notary he’d already signed and closed the deal.

He offered her his hand, palm side up, like an old fashioned gentlemen. “Down to the last detail,” he said with an earnest grin.

Mae laughed in delight, all the turmoil of the day forgotten as she took his hand.

“Good.”

#the lost boys #lost boys #writing #role play #one shot #fan fic #David #Marko #Mae #Veronica #OC's

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replicarters · 6 years

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ooohhh tonight’s murphy thoughts are gonna be good because this was the one i attended, so i can spill some cut content!!! hell yeah!!! i’m actually really torn up about one of them because i loved it so much

okay first thing’s first the magic of editing is amazing. editors really out here doing the lord’s work making things pop. some things i actually thought were funnier live, like phyllis’s line about the ketchup marrying “not being as fun as it sounds”. i was dying, but this time i was just kind of like, “oh ok lol”. maybe that’s because we had to watch that about 4 times? just didn’t have the same punch this time around.

the whole thing with s-h-s is just so creepy and bizarre lol, i mean, this bitch out here right now lying her fool ass off and propping up this repugnant admin but hang on guys, let’s hear all about miles’s SEXUAL FANTASIES ABOUT HER???? aaaaahhhhh!!!! first of all miles you need help. second of all ugh don’t even give this propaganda overlord the benefit! this is the kind of situation i feel they need to be WAY more careful of and the kind that makes me fear a little bit of bubble-living going on among the staff. this craven demon is doing the worst RIGHT NOW. how much can you joke about it before it leaves a bad taste?

the scene between murphy and avery at home was everything, man. and poses a valid question. what is the right course of action for reporters right now? well they couldn’t have foreseen jim acosta calling s-h-s a liar to her face mere days ago, so has the question already been answered? one wonders. this is the territory i wish they would stay in as opposed to miles jacking it to his bad place femdom daydreams.

and now what i know you came for, the DELETED SCENES:

corky had lines cut in the beginning, she was lamenting... something, i think reacclimating to a morning schedule again. what made it stick out to me was it was very reminiscent of when she lamented early on in the show those times when you can’t remember if you locked the door before you left, so you go back, then you can’t remember if you locked it when you went back, so you go back... faith was gr8 and nailed it each and every time.

the stage manager had a line threatening death for... coffee pot misuse? i think? probably should have written this stuff down but i figured cuts were all probably made already. surprise! on the one hand it wasn’t a very funny line and we struggled every single time to force laughter for it but on the other hand let the man have a line! bring us a new john even if he’s a little vindictive and high-strung! he was the only black guy with a line too so give us all these fancy people of color you were talkin up hmm hmm hmm!

the scene with the secretary seemed shorter and didn’t really do that actress justice in the end. there was a little more of a moment devoted to when she was about to barf where murphy pushes the hell back from the table and it felt like they blew by that.

the scene between phyllis and the daca kid had a line that we actually saw cut right in front of us which is a shame because i think it told us a lot about phyllis as a character: exasperated, a little spanish slips out and the daca kid was surprised and delighted, she revealed she did know quite a bit from some time spent in........ mmm puerto rico? maybe? then she made him call her la reina and said it had a great ring to it.

at the very end when avery is playing the “i’m sorry” ringtone, murphy says, “you are such a brat.” he responds, “yeah, but i’m your brat.” i am GUTTED that this was cut. i remember that moment so clearly, i was ecstatic over it, and that was when i thought to myself, “yes, this is gonna rule, they still GET it.” what a horrible thing to have to cut for i’m assuming time. surely we could have tossed something else. there was a lot going on in this one, though. but STILL. out of everything, that’s what they tossed? i don’t know how i feel about that. but we had to have room for miles’s weird erections, you see.

diane english was wearing a new york times shirt about truth. it had a lot of words on it and we didn’t get a good look at most of them, but what we could catch we were big fans of. media and journalism is essential to a free society, you know, just some run of the mill stuff like that.

while setting up the last scene at murphy’s townhouse, it took a bit to get everything ready over there, so faith and joe wandered over and thanked us, the audience, so much for coming, shot the shit, revealed embarrassing wedding dance songs. it was very nice! felt like being welcomed into somebody’s home. my new friends, faith ford and joe regalbuto.

this was also not long after aretha franklin’s passing, and they were still feeling it. they played the clip (remastered!!) of murphy and aretha, and faith was sobbing the whole time. (she said afterwards she’d just been “verklempt” since they started production.) candice shook her head at herself like, “lord. me.”

for those of you still keeping track of this sort of thing, during the filming of the scene at phil’s, candice made a quick face at grant and got them both going. STILL AT IT.

i hope if you were able to go to a taping of an episode, you share your secrets with the crowd! how much more cut content am i missing from my life?!

#murphy brown

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brokencrayonsstillcolor · 6 years

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This is going to be a super long rant but long story short, I need new friends!

Someone in my life has been making me feel like shit lately, and she's supposed to be one of my best friends. Lately she's been a lot more vindictive lately and I feel like it’s because I’m not at her beck and call 24/7. See, before I didn't have much of a life and I could pretty much hang out whenever but now I’m in school full time and work part time and the little bit of free time I have all I want to do is sleep. I noticed her doing it more and more shortly after my semester started. There was a night that she wanted me to come over (she asked me around 4) and I told her I had some physics homework I had to do and I would try to get it done, she told me I could do my homework at her house but I know myself and I never would have gotten it done. So I worked on it at home and when I finished at around 7pm I snap chatted her and told her I could come over now (we tend to hang out later so it being 7pm was normal/reasonable for when we normally hang out) and she responded with a pitch black picture and something along the lines of she wanted me to come over earlier and her husband will be home from work in TWO HOURS so I don't need to come over. I instantly knew she was mad, normally she’d love the company for those two hours while her husband was gone. The pitch black snapchat also lead me to believe she was angry cause there was no way she was napping at 7pm because she has 2 kids. I didn't think too much of it until that weekend when she snapchatted multiple times both Friday and Saturday that she was hanging out with one of our other friends (we almost always hang out all together) and playing games. So, I sat at home the whole weekend, which I was honestly fine with except for the fact I knew my friends were hanging out and I wasn't invited. She has done this to me before when she's been mad at me, she’ll post snaps or pictures of her hanging out with people or doing something fun knowing full well that I'll see it and a lot of times she snaps me the pictures directly.

During the following week we hung out and made plans with a group of friends to go to dinner and a haunted house Saturday night. If you know me, you know I love baseball, Milwaukee Brewers baseball in particular. The Brewers made it to the post season (for the first time since 2011) and they ended up having to play a game Saturday night and that game would decide if they went to the World Series or not, so it was a big deal. So, on Friday night, once I knew for sure the Brewers were going to be playing Saturday night, I told everyone that I would have to cancel because I couldn't miss the game. I know it sounds crazy, but missing a game and not knowing what's going on within the game gives me so much anxiety and with a game that important I knew it would be A LOT worse if I wasn't watching the game. I told her I could still go to dinner with them and asked where dinner would be. She then told me that they would be going somewhere cheap because they had decided they were going to do an escape room in the afternoon. So basically, I had been on a group chat a few days prior to discuss plans, I mentioned that I MIGHT have to cancel due to the game, then they planned to go to an escape room and I knew nothing about it which means they had a separate group chat without me before I even canceled for sure and I was never told where dinner would be. She snapped me all night about all the fun they were having. Then the next day she snapped me that they were all hanging out again and once again, I was not invited. So, I feel like because I picked watching the game, something I love, over hanging out I am being punished.

Yesterday around noon she texted me that people were coming over at 8pm to hang out and I was invited. Well, Monday was just one of those days for me, I left my homework and all my lab materials on my counter and I just felt stressed and rushed all day, so it did take me awhile to get back to her. Once I did, I told her I had class until 8:30 and as long as I could be productive before that class, I could come over, but I wouldn't be able to stay too late cause I have an 8am class. She responded with, “haha well you didn't respond so we changed our plans. we will have to hangout another night”. I apologized and told her that it was one of those days where I’d lose my head if it wasn't attached, which I'm sure everyone has experienced at some point and can understand. She read the message but never responded. Something felt off, she’d never change plans to hang out for me. So, she lives on my way home from campus, so I decided to drive by, and sure enough, there were two other cars in her driveway. So, they didn't reschedule or change their plans, they (I'm sure it was all her) just uninvited me.

That’s a terrible thing to do to someone, especially someone with severe anxiety and low confidence who already questions everything she does and says and is so worried that no one likes her. And she knows this too, we've been friends for almost 14 years, my struggle with anxiety is something that I am very open about. I question everything I do and say as it is and wonder if people like me or if they just feel bad for me and I always try to tell myself that it is just my anxiety talking, but maybe it's not?

This isn't helping my depression either.

And here's the thing, I have been a great friend to her for so many years. When her parents kicked her out, she lived with my family rent free, free food, free internet, and free tv, my parents never took a penny from her, because that's what friends do, they help each other when in need. I will rearrange my schedule to accommodate her, I've gone to doctors' appointments with her because her husband was working and she couldn't take the twins by herself, I spent hours and hours at her house keeping her company because she's a stay at home mom and she's bored, I’ve put my dog in her kennel for longer than I’d like so I can hang out with her. And when I tell her I have to leave so Maisie doesn't have to been in her kennel any longer she takes these backed jabs at my dog. Yes, Maisie has a lot of energy and needs more attention than her couch potato dogs, but I wouldn't trade her or change her for anything.

Don't take backhanded jabs at my dog, she is my baby and my best friend. She would flip out if I said anything remotely negative about her dogs, so why is it okay to say something about mine?

So, if anyone wants to be friends, I could use some new ones!

#friends #shitty people #bad friends #anxiety #depression

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prorevenge · 7 years

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Killing a toxic co-workers hopes, dreams, and future.

Names changed for anonymity, happened a few years back. This is a long one so TL;DR at the bottom.

Background: I got a job working for a small hardware company. 4 people in the office, a few in the warehouse, and a delivery driver. Nothing fancy, but it got me off the night shift and onto a desk. The owner was a pretty nice guy, let's call him Ray. Ray took over the family business in the early 2000s. Like most small business owners he was pretty frugal. The job came with absolutely zero perks. 10 vacation days that doubled as sick days, no insurance, everyone was hourly and Ray hated paying OT. He had one large customer that accounted for about half his business and everything after that was profit. He had gotten to the point where the business was doing well enough to support his comfortable life (10-3 schedule, 4 weeks vacation, season baseball tickets) and had zero interest in growing it beyond that point. But my problem was not with Ray, it was with the absolute b*tch in the purchasing department.

The players: Four people in the office meant that every part of this business fell to one of us. Ray was the owner, he negotiated large scale orders both with customers and suppliers. Sarah was our admin/receptionist, sweet as pie. I was in charge of order processing and logistics, and I did quite a bit of work revamping the company website. Ingrid (aka B*tch Supreme) handled small scale purchasing and most of the other customers.

Ingrid was a living nightmare sent to punish all mankind for our hubris. She had the personality of a one dimensional Stephen King character that would be whipping an unruly mob into a frenzy. She was trash, plain and simple. She was also the most spiteful, hate-filled, vindictive gorgon to ever walk gods green earth. She was a born-again Christian so because she went to church every Sunday she thought she could do no wrong. Ingrid, for whatever reason, disliked me from my first day. I don't know if she saw me as a threat or was just having a moodswing ( I'm no psychologist but I'm 98% sure she was bipolar) but she was not happy about my joining the company. She kept it civil at first. Ingrid loved to gossip at anybody who would listen and since I was always at my desk I made for a captive audience. Everything she said was vile and mean-spirited, and most of it was blatant projection. She would complain about which actresses she didn't like like because they were too fat (Ingrid was easily north of the 300 lb mark) or had an annoying voice (Ingrid had a slight lisp). She would thump her bible to the tune of how the gays were trying to destroy the sanctity of marriage (she was twice divorced) and complain about how Obamacare was costing her too much money (she had no insurance for herself or her kids, and had a handful of pre existing conditions, she just hated Obama). She would tell stories about how she was with her son at the grocery store and he yelled at a polish woman to speak American or get out of the country LIKE SHE WAS PROUD OF IT. All in just the worst person I've ever had to work with.

In spite of all that I felt I could just ignore Ingrid's bullshit and do my job, but then she started focusing her dislike of me into petty hatred.

The spiral downward: Ingrid would take anything and everything personally. If I didn't say good morning to her she would complain to Ray that I was being rude. Ray knew she had a screw loose so he dismissed it. She didn't like that. She started trying to frame me for not entering orders that she claimed to have given me a week ago. I quickly put that shit to bed by date-stamping every order that came across my desk and checking with her, Ray, and Sarah for new orders every hour on the hour. Every time something went wrong her knee jerk reaction was to blame me and throw me under the bus.

The breaking point: One of our larger customers bought from us because their purchaser was a friend of Ingrid's. She made the connection between the businesses and Ray gave her a decent commission from it. I had met through a friend of a friend the purchaser from another large manufacturing company that uses products very similar to ours. Ray told me if I could get them to submit a sample order he would give me the same kind of commission, but that it was all on me because drumming up new business was extra work that he didn't want to do. Now like I said, this job had no perks so any shot at extra cash was a godsend. I rode my desk hard, my phone, my email, chasing this lead like a hungry dog. Finally I got the purchaser to agree to submit the order. I was over the moon. Enter Ingrid. This whole time she was pouring doubt and skepticism over the entire venture, really she just didn't want anybody else to achieve what she had. Sarah was on vacation so Ingrid had taken over front desk duties for the week. I don't hear back from the purchaser, ever. Eventually I get ahold of him a month later and ask when he was going to send the sample order. He told me that he had called a few weeks back and that the lady he spoke to said that our company didn't have the capacity to supply what they wanted. I ask him what day he called, turns out it was during the week Ingrid was answering phones. Ok, act like human garbage, whatever, I don't care. Try to make me look bad at work, screw you, I'll rise above it. Sabotage my chance for a substantial raise? Now you've awoken the dragon. I was trying to save up for a down payment on a house, and Ingrid thinks she can put my future on hold? Nope. Not happening. I vowed that vengeance would be mine.

The revenge: Ingrid had been taking online and night courses at a local community college because she wanted to become a THERAPIST (I wish I was making that up) and was currently working towards her associates degree. Ingrid was about as smart as she was skinny, kind-hearted, and pleasant. She often did her class work in the office after Ray had left for the day. One day she asks me if I can take an online quiz for her. Now I'm still furious at her for tanking my commission so I'm not about to do her any favors. But then she says something that I'm sure I've never heard her say before: Please. This was followed by "it's an earth science quiz and I can't lie." Freeze frame, record scratch. I need to process that sentence. "I can't lie" was clearly beluga shit because she lied to my purchaser. It also was a huge paradox because here she was asking me to take a test for her. But she didn't mean any of that, she meant "I can't lie and deny my faith on an Earth Science quiz because I believe that the earth was created in literally seven days and is only about 6000 years old and humans lived at the same time as dinosaurs." She needed someone who knew and understood what the Cretaceous period was to pass a test keep her from failing. And just like that I had my plan on a silver platter. Sure I could tank the test and she would have to repeat the class and that would be inconvenient, or I could be a real son of a b*tch. I opted for the latter. I told her that I would take that test, and any other for 20 bucks. Earth Science 101, Spanish 101, Intro to Psychology (a therapist that couldn't even pass a intro level psyche class, god help us all). Quizzes, tests, I ended up making $200 by the end of the semester. Then she comes to me with the request I've been waiting for. "Hey Dick, I need to write a research paper, do you know how to do that?" $50 later and I have the assignment in front of me. It's laughable, 5 pages, double spaced, doesn't even need to be AMA. An eight grader could pound it out in an hour or two, but lazy stupid b*tches will be lazy stupid b*tches. Now around this time I had gotten an offer from a much larger company downtown and was going to put in my two weeks once Ray got back from one of his many vacations. I had an opportunity to ruin her life and an exit strategy. I set to work. I l literally googled "research paper for [class name]" and grab the first one that popped up. I change nothing but the name and the date. I put in my two weeks, and the week before I leave I give Ingrid "her" paper. She doesn't even proofread it. She just turns it in and goes along her merry way. What happened next I heard second hand from Sarah after I left. The professor immediately knew it was plagiarized and got the dean involved. Ingrid was so stupid that she even tried to use the truth as an excuse. "I didn't plagiarize that paper, the guy I had been paying to do all my course work did it!" She was expelled from the institution for academic dishonesty and plagiarism, barred from any of the satellite schools or affiliate programs, and refused a refund on her tuition. Her dream of becoming a therapist shattered into dust as all of the nearby community colleges were part of the affiliate program. She was financially ruined left with no savings and a semester of student loan debt. On my last day I made sure to poke my head into her office to say "thank you, Ingrid, for everything I learned from you while working here. I hope you learned something from me as well."

TL;DR psycho snatch-basket co-worker tries to get me fired and ruins a business venture, I get her to pay me to have her expelled and crush her dreams.

(source) (story by Dickshitley)

#pro revenge #by Dickshitley #prorevenge #pro revenge stories #revenge stories #pro #revenge

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alteriatheinsane · 3 years

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The Shop of All

Once, there lived a man, he lived with his wife and his two children.

The man was happy with his life

There was only one problem

He had always wanted more than just this

We this man was a child he dreamed of achieving things no one else had done before

However, those dreams and ambitions were halted by life

For as the man grew older, he had to take on responsibilities

The man had to go into office work, where everything is bland and hardly anything interesting

The man didn’t want his job

He couldn’t see past himself and at the big picture

What he was doing was helping many people across the world, but he didn’t see it

The man had fallen in love with a women that he’d seen many times

His wife had worked at a restaurant on the side of her regular day job to earn more money

The man would go there every Monday

At first because he would go with his friends and enjoy themselves

But eventually he started looking forward to when Monday would come so he could see her

The man eventually plucked up the courage, and asked her out on a date

Years later the two got engaged and eventually married

They couldn’t’ve been happier

Or could they

You see, over the years the two had begun to argue more and more

The man couldn’t see past himself and at the big picture

He had fallen head over heels for her in his youth

But he eventually developed a superiority complex

He turned from an honest, kind soul to a nasty and vindictive person

He hadn’t wished this of course

His Wife and children had began to spoil him more and more and he thought it wouldn’t stop

One day, he and his wife fought

And they fought

No resolution was in sight

The two argued for what felt like hours until both of them stormed out of the room

His wife went to the bedroom and he left the house

He felt bad for fighting constantly, he wasn’t a bad person after all

So, he decided that he was going to help fix everything that he had done

But Where to start?

He decided that he should try and get couples counseling for the two of them

So he went home and pitched the idea to his wife

He apologized and told her that he would try to fix everything he had done

His wife forgave him and said she would help as best she coil

However, she said that because of everything that he had done, he wasn’t allowed one thing

She said that he wasn’t allowed to get counseling

Surprised by this the man asked why

She replied by saying that if he really meant it, then he would look some place else to fix things

The man was still confused, but he wanted to fix everything so he begrudgingly agreed

He analyzed what he had been doing and how it was harmful to the people around him

He figured out what he should do to fix things

With his wife

With his children

And with his coworkers who he was constantly rude to

There was only one problem, he hadn’t enough money to buy and schedule everything

For you see, he had planned to take his family out and apologize

He would then give them each a gifts of their favorite things

Then he’d promise to be better and fix everything

For that was his plan but it would not pan out if he hadn’t the money

He wanted to make a big spectacle to show them that he cared

The man, desperate to fix everything he had broken, searched and searched

He looked for something, anything, that could help him

He looked online for places with discounts to be able to afford everything

He looked around the city nearby for deals to be to afford everything

He searched and searched, but he found nothing

On the brink of defeat, the man went to a small town neighboring his by a few miles

He looked through the shops, desperate

None of these shops had what he was looking for

Then, he passed by a shop, a shop that he felt was special, but he couldn’t tell why

The name of the store was “The Shop of All”

He went inside

And in this shop of all he saw the most immaculately kept store he had ever seen

The variety of everything the store did was incredible

On one side of the store, there were clothes and gowns

Then there was jewelry

Then antiques

Then furniture

Then cooking and cleaning supplies

Then dinnerware

Then food

Then drinks, both alcohol and not

And then, at the end of the store, were the tills, and a little coffee shop

The coffee shop also offered for orders of baked goods

This store seemed fantastic, but there seemed to be no one else in it

The only other person he could see was someone standing in the middle of the store

The man approached

“Hello, how may I assist you?” the worker had said

“Hello, I was looking for all of this-” the man pulled out a piece of paper with a list of things on it

“-and I was wondering if you had all of this for as inexpensively as possible”

The person looked over the list for everything “Of course sir, we have all of this”

“Really?” asked the man surprised, the list had a very wide variety of things on it

“Yes sir, would you like me to help you look for these items?” he asked

“Yes, please.”

So, the two of them went around the store and the man found everything he was looking for

A carton of Eggs

Flour

Sugar

Peanut Butter

Peppermint extract

A few video games

Posters of people that the man didn’t really know

Music albums

And a few Novels

Surprisingly, the man found everything that he needed in perfect condition

The books looked and felt brand new

The albums were very specific and hard to find but they were there

The sold out games that he was getting were all there

The posters looked new and were even signed by the person in each of them

And all the baking ingredients he needed were right there

The man felt like he had been lucky

The person said that he could have all of these for a greatly reduced cost from what he thought

With these kind of prices he would think that the stuff be slightly used and worn

But everything was perfect

The man paid for everything and left

Over the next week he scheduled a time for him and his family to go out

And when that day arrived he treated his family

He took them all out to a nice restaurant

After that he took a walk with them through the park

Then they all went and saw a movie they had wanted to see

And then they went home

And when they got home, he sat them all down in the living room and got their gifts

For his wife he had made her 3 batches of peanut butter mint cookies, her favorite

For his daughter he got her the posters she had been wanting, signed by the people in them

And for his son he had gotten him a few video games he had been saving up for

And each of them got 2 albums by their favorite band

They all thanked him greatly and gave him a hug

He now appreciated them, everything they did and everything they loved

For he may not understand all of them, but he can still support them nonetheless

After that day he was a better person

He listened to what they had to say

He gave advice

And he supported all of them

After all of this, he had to go back to that store and thank the person working there

He traveled to the town

He parked his car, and walked to where the shop had been, but there was nothing there

The man was surprised, for he had seen and been in the shop

And there was no way that it had been torn down, it had only been two weeks

Then the man noticed something, there was a piece of paper on the ground

The man picked it up

It read:

Hello sir! You may be wondering why the shop that you had gotten all of those items from has disappeared. You need worry not! You see sir, the Shop of All only appears to someone who truly needs and deserves it, a rare sight to come by in this day and age.

I mostly do not do much, as I am constantly needing to wait more each time a new customer is in need, and the fact that you were able to enter is astounding. I could tell that you deserved it because you looked desperate, you looked like you had searched far and wide for the items you had wanted.

I was more than happy to oblige, and I assume you are happy with what you got. The purpose of the Shop of All is to give the deserving everything they need.

Anyway, I hope you have a safe future and we may meet again some day.

~Shopkeeper~

The man was in shock

He didn’t know how to respond to this

But he was very grateful that he was able to encounter this Shop of All

He and his family were happy now

Many years later, the man was getting to his mid 40s

He, his wife, and his children were all sitting and watching tv and socializing for the holidays

They decided that they should go out and do something, perhaps some christmas shopping

They decided to go to the shops and see what was there

They looked in many different store and they bought a few things for their relatives

They were all having a great time, going from shop to shop and talking

Then they noticed something, there seemed to be a new shop on the street

They decided that they should see what it was

And when they were able to see the sign, the man dropped everything he was carrying

The sign read “Shop of All”

“Could it really be?” asked the man, bewildered

“What do you mean dear?” his wife asked him

“Do you remember a few years ago when I surprised you all?” he asked them

“Of course we do dad, it was such a nice surprise” his son said

“But what does that have to do with this?” his daughter asked

“This is where I got everything” he replied

“That’s crazy, you got us such different things that you couldn't possibly get it all in one place” said his wife

“But I’m telling you that I did” said the man

They all decide that they should walk in and check it out

And when they got in, the man remembered everything clearly

Nothing had changed

Everything looked exactly the same as it had all of those years ago

And in the center of it all, the same person stood there

“Hello, how many I help you today folks?” he said

He then looked at the man and recognized him

“Oh, hello again sir.” he said

“You remembered me?” the man asked

“Of course I did sir, as I said in the letter you received, my appearances are few and far in between” he replied

“What is he talking about dad?” his son asked

“This is the store where he got all of those things for you a few years ago” the man replied

“Really?” his wife asked “But I’ve never seen this shop before.”

“Sir, could you please read out the letter that you got” asked the man “I know you have it on you”

“Of course” said the man, and he grabbed the letter out of his coat pocket and read it out to everyone

“So, you really did get all of those things from here, didn’t you?” asked his daughter

“I did” the man responded

“Actually sir, may I see that letter?” asked the person

“Of course” replied the man, and gave it to him

“I’ll be taking this, and giving you this.” he said, handing everyone a card

The card said on it “Welcome to the Shop of All!”

“These cards will let you get here anytime you wish, I haven’t given one of those out in a long time” said the shopkeeper

“And I will tell you, this store isn’t static, it can change location and the interior can even change”

They all looked at him and nodded

“I’m sorry we can’t stay any longer Mister-” said his wife

“Please, call me Alteria” said the shopkeeper

“Well, Alteria, I’m sorry we can’t stay longer, but we must be heading home, it is getting late” said his wife

“Of course,” said the shopkeeper

And with that, they all turned around and left

and when they were leaving the shopkeeper said “Come back soon.”

#wrote this all at once

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firstumcschenectady · 4 years

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“A kindom parable?” based on Romans 15:1-12 and Matthew 18:21-35

There are some simple takes on today's parable. If you read it the way Matthew wrote it, is an allegory about the importance of forgiveness. As a reminder, the STORY itself says,

“A king called one of his servants to settle accounts, the servant owed an extraordinary amount of money. When the servant couldn't immediately produce the money, the king ordered that the servant, his family, and all their possessions be sold to cover the debt (worth noting, it wouldn't have covered the debt.) The servant grovels, the king not only relents, but FORGIVES the whole debt.

However, upon leaving, the servant encounters someone who owes him money, requests that it be repaid, and when that is impossible, the servant threw the man into prison.

This got reported to the king, who then had the servant tortured until he could pay back the debt.”

(It is worth noting that the amounts of money in this parable are OBSCENE. I've seen scholars guess that the first figure is as low as $10 million or as high as $6 billion. The second figure is lower, but not trivial. It is still more money than most peasants would ever see, perhaps in the $10,000 range. The Jesus seminar actually thinks this parable goes back to Jesus, in part, because the numbers are so huge and they believe Jesus's parables tended to exaggerate. Other scholars point out that the first figure essentially equated to “the largest figure one could ever name.” Our version of a gazillion dollars, so, A LOT of money.)

So, when the parable is taken as allegory, it is simple: God is like the King, God forgives us our debts, we are then supposed to forgive others their far smaller debts, if we don't, we will go to hell.

HOWEVER, despite what I learned in Sunday School as a child, parables aren't fables. They don't tend to be easy to understand. Instead, they tend to be things that make us think.

So, when we come to a parable that seems easy to understand, it usually indicates it has been cleaned up a little bit from what Jesus said into what the Gospel writer thought it should mean.

If we take the story just as Matthew wrote it, then God is vindictive and while we're instructed to forgive 70*7 times, God forgives once and then gets unforgiving immediately. That should also give us pause, since it simply doesn't fit how we understand the Divine.

Now, if we take out Matthew's final scolding at the end, we un-fable the story and get back to a parable. To take the parable as a parable first requires that we do NOT assume that the earthly king is a stand in for God?

If we read it as parable, the whole thing gets uncomfortable. How could anyone ever owe a king that much money? How does even the king have enough money that he can forgive a figure like that on a whim? Where does the money come from (hint: the laborers who are dying young of starvation so the money can flow to the top)? Why doesn't the servant respond with generosity? Why did the other servants tell the king? Why did the king respond with such venom? Who or what is good in this story? What are we supposed to do? Does the second man get released from prison when the first one gets sent to be tortured? Does anyone win?

That's a solid parable.

However, if we take out the BEGINNING line about this story being about the kin(g)dom of God, things get even more interesting.

William Herzog II in “Parables as Subversive Speech” suggests that we first look at the story on its own merits – in the context of the day. What follows is my adaptations of Herzog's work. The king in this story is most likely a client king of the Roman Empire. Someone placed by Rome, and replaceable by Rome. He is in charge of extracting wealth from the area he is king of, keeping some, and sending the rest on. The system by which he does this is pretty complicated, including many levels of bureaucracy that does his dirty work for him – and is paid well enough to be grateful not to be the peasants. The bureaucracy is kept on its toes with fear, and as such the “work environment” is deeply suspicious, prone to untruths, and manipulative. Everyone is “playing politics” with everyone else because that's how you survive.

When leaders exist to extract wealth, they have to use their power to terrify, and when power is inherently violent, the systems that support it won't be healthy. One could simply say that bad leaders create bad systems, and that's true, but under it all is a question of what is the POINT of leadership.

The Hebrew Bible suggests that the point of a leader is to care for the people and pay attention to the needs of the whole, by creating a system of justice that is fair, a society that enables even impoverished people to survive, and an economic system that distributes livable wages and sustainability as broadly as possible (and prevents both generational wealth and its counter generational poverty). Because the Jewish people knew this, the way the Roman Empire worked was seen as inherently immoral. The Roman Empire, like any empire understood the king to “own” the whole land and the people, and to be responsible for using them to to extract wealth from and to send to the top, and to do so by creating an unjust system and threatening everyone with death and destruction. You can see their point on this being a bad system.

OK, so we have a Roman client king, and the first Jewish hearers would have STARTED with distrust of this guy. Helpful to know, right?

And, while the king was inherently immoral, SO WAS HIS COURT, as they were the ones doing his dirty work. In fact, that first servant, was a top level bureaucrat, and that large “loan” he was supposed to replay was actually the “taxes and tributes” he and his department were responsible for extracting from the people and the land. Calling in the “loan” was demanding his money, perhaps as a test of the servant, in order to threaten violence and keep the fear up in the system. Being arbitrary and making unreasonable demands helps create a culture of fear. The man doesn't have the full amount yet, possibly because it wasn't “due” yet.

Now, the first hearers likely would not have had a lot of identification with this servant, because he was … basically a cabinet level official whose own actions had done incredible damage to their country and their lives. The king's anger and threats are par for the course, but, in fact, so is his forgiveness. Because the king has now RE-ESTABLISHED his dominance, which was always the point. I suspect the “Forgiveness” of the loan in this case is inherently untrue, this was just a show of power, forcing the otherwise powerful servant to be submissive and reminded of what can happen to him.

This servant goes out after the “forgiveness” and then demands a smaller BUT STILL LARGE sum be paid back to him. Again, it is worth noting that the people Jesus spoke to would not have identified with the man owing the smaller sum because it was still more money than they ever had. And in this case the top level bureaucrat does not forgive the debt, probably because most of the time debts are not simply forgiven. Then other people in the court, who gained power and prestige by lowering someone else's, used this to take down the top level official. And the king's whims take him down this time.

That is, perhaps this is not parable of “what the kindom of God is like” and more a description of “what the kingdom of Rome is like.” By making plain how the systems of power work in the world, Jesus was able to invite people to consider how they are complicit in the system as well as if they want to continue to be.

Because I, for one, don't want to be part of systems like that.

Recently, I've seen how beautifully another option can work. The practice that I went to for care during my pregnancy and birth is one that prides itself on putting patients first. And they did! My medical care was profoundly humane, I was taken seriously all along, and my caregivers took the time to talk with me – and not just about medical issues! This seemed to penetrate the whole system. From the person who greeted us at the desk, to the one weighing me, to the ones scheduling next appointments, there was grace abundance, as well as patience and kindness.

I also noticed that the practice was humane to its workers. People at various “levels” in the practice could be seen talking and laughing with each other. It felt much more like people were doing various tasks that all mattered than like there was a hierarchy in the office. I also heard, at the hospital (as we were there for a while) how incredibly well respected the group is!

Truthfully, I found it mesmerizing. I wanted to know all their secrets. I asked a bit, and what I heard was that the whole group was deeply committed to putting patients first and people came to work there to do that. The nature of the organization was created by its primary value being lived out.

On a smaller scale, I love the story of a very VERY mild mannered man becoming the roads supervisor in a small town. As you'd expect, people tended to call that office in a fury when something was wrong with their roads, and lots can go wrong with roads. Those that loved the man worried about him being eaten alive by other people's fury, but instead, his mild manners, calm assurances, tendency to listen and commitment to doing his job well transformed those who called. Even one person can make a huge difference.

Many of Jesus's stories teach us how to subvert broken systems. I think this story teaches us how those systems work so we can make decisions about engage with them. Funny enough, the reading from Romans goes through this as well. Either we can take people down for making different choices than we do, or we can participate with God in building the kindom. Judgement, like manipulation, fear, and suspicion keep us participating in systems of oppression. Compassion, equity, listening build the kindom of God. In every word that we say, and every action we take, we get to choose where we put our lives. We can choose fear and violence or we can choose to build the kindom of God for all people. May God help us choose well. Amen

Rev. Sara E. Baron First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 Pronouns: she/her/hers http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

September 13, 2020

#Thinking Church #Progressive Christianity #First UMC Schenectady #umc #Sorry about the UMC #Rev Sara E Baron #Parables aren't fables #No allegory here #Kindom parable or world parable?#Broken Systems #Oppression #united kindom

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welllpthisishappening · 7 years

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Tripping Over the Blue Line (15/45)

It’s a transition. That’s what Emma’s calling it. She’s transitioning from one team to another, from one coast to another and she’s definitely not worried. Nope. She’s fine. Really. She’s promised Mary Margaret ten times already. So she got fired. Whatever. She’s fine, ready to settle into life with the New York Rangers. She’s got a job to do. And she doesn’t care about Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers. At all.

He’s done. One more season and he’s a free agent and he’s out. It’s win or nothing for Killian. He’s going to win a Stanley Cup and then he’s going to stop being the face of the franchise and he’s going to go play for some other garbage team where his name won’t be used as puns in New York Post headlines. That’s the plan. And Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations isn’t going to change that. At all.

They are both horrible liars.

Rating: Mature Content Warnings: Swearing, eventual hockey-type violence AN: Once upon a time Colin coached a charity hockey game and video came out and my mind was, like, write the thing and it spawned this entire story, so Emma’s charity hockey game is super important. Also, this chapter begins my complete takedown of The New York Post all story. As always @laurnorder, @distant-rose & @beautiful-swan are the gifts that keep on giving. Hanging out on Ao3, FF.net & tag’ed up on Tumblr

“What’s the matter with you?”

Emma didn’t even bother turning her head – just glancing at Ruby out of the corner of her eye as she shifted the pile of papers in her hand. Again. She must have moved them half a dozen times now, certain if she moved them the right way she’d be able to get rid of the knot of anxiety that had taken up root in the pit of her stomach over the last three days.

Three days.

She’d walked out of his apartment three days ago and they’d talked three days ago and she was, still, an absolute mess. Even three days later.

It was because Mary Margaret had texted her, because she’d woken up on Saturday morning and Emma hadn’t been on the couch and she already knew before, had stared at her suspiciously in the suite during the game and it felt like it was all crashing down at once.

And Emma might have been the worst – the worst – because she’d gotten the text message and the frantic phone call and David had the entire goddamn NYPD out looking for her and she did what she did best.

She ran.

She ran and she tried not to think about the look on Killian’s face when she did, something a bit worse than surprise and more jarring than disappointment. She couldn’t quite get that look out of her mind.

Even three days later.

Ruby was the only one brave enough to ask about it. Mary Margaret just looked at her like some sad, broken thing. David grumbled a bit, but he bought her new Pop Tarts anyway – and that might have almost made Emma bite her lip when she opened the cabinet that morning. That was just pitiful.

God. She’d told him Neal’s name. And Walsh. Well, not Walsh’s name. But she’d told him about Walsh and Los Angeles and what she thought when she looked at Mary Margaret and David. And he’d listened and he’d told her about Milah and he’d said...he’d looked at her like…

She didn’t know.

There wasn’t a word for it – or there wasn’t a word Emma was willing to acknowledge while sitting in a chair next to Ruby in Zelena’s office with a pile of papers in her hands and half a plan she’d come up with in Killian’s bed.

Five weeks. It had been five weeks. Five weeks and three days and maybe...maybe she was insane. Maybe he was insane.

You don’t just get to tell people things like that, you don’t just sit in bed with an absurd amount of decorative pillows and share absurdly personal information about foster families and lost loves and injuries that define your career as much as closing in on the top-five in points for the franchise.

He was the goddamn face of the franchise.

And he, apparently, hadn’t gotten the memo because Killian had talked and told and then held her like she was something important and maybe not quite completely broken.

She absolutely was.

No wonder he hadn’t texted. Or called. Or done anything except get a negative-two rating on the ice the night before and Arthur had screamed when he actually cross-checked a Hurricanes player into the bench.

Emma tried not to overanalyze that and it had worked about as well as trying to forget the way he looked at her when she walked out of his apartment. Fuck, she still had his clothes. What was she going to do with a Winter Classic t-shirt from seven seasons ago?

“Em,” Ruby continued, leaning over the arm of the chair to smack his shoulder. “Are you even listening to me right now?” “Jeez,” Emma mumbled, shifting the pile of papers again so she could rub her shoulder. “What were you a boxer in another life? Relax.” “That didn’t answer my question.” “What was the question?” Ruby sighed, staring at Emma with something that almost resembled disdain or maybe just a very particular form of frustration, and she rolled her eyes when Emma tapped her fingers on the papers again.

“What’s going on with you?” “That’s not what you asked before.” “Ah! So you were listening.” “And ignoring.”

“Well that’s just rude.”

Emma flashed Ruby a smile – possibly the first time she’d smiled in three days and that might have been the most melodramatic thing she’d ever thought in her entire life.

Ruby didn’t smile back.

She didn’t glare either or do that wolf-like thing that made the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck stand up, certain Ruby could read her mind. She just stared at Emma and waited.

And then she groaned when Emma didn’t say anything.

Zelena walked into the office – heels sounding loudly on the carpet and Emma tried to refocus her energy on the conversation in front of her, the one about a charity hockey game and Garden of Dreams and anything that wasn’t Killian Jones.

Or Ruby’s continued stare. She kept staring at her.

“Alright,” Zelena said brusquely, sitting down on the edge of the chair behind her desk. “I’ve got,” she glanced down at the phone in her hand, “six minutes. Go.” “Jeez Z, relax,” Ruby muttered, earning her own glare for the comment. Emma tried not to smile at that. She was, apparently, feeling just a bit vindictive as well.

“What’s this great, big idea you’ve got then, Emma? You’ve got five and a half minutes now, by the way.” “Alright,” Emma said, shifting the papers again. “I want to organize a game.” “A game?” “A charity game. For GD.” Zelena stared at her, head tilted slightly to the side as she drummed her fingers across the top of her desk. She twisted her lips, glancing down at the pile of papers when Emma all but dropped them in front of her.

“What’s this?” Zelena asked.

“My plan.” “When did you even have the time to come up with this?”

Emma shrugged noncommittally, far too aware of Ruby’s eyes practically boring a hole into the side of her head. She’d come up with the first half of the idea in bed, with a very unclothed Killian Jones next to her, but she’d actually written it all out and researched and made graphs – God, there were graphs – while doing her best to ignore every single other feeling she could possibly feel over the last three days.

It hadn’t really worked.

“I want to do this,” Emma said, far too aware that she hadn’t actually answered the question. “I think we can make this something really big.” “When?” Zelena continued.

She’d pulled the pile of papers and the graphs towards her, flipping through the twenty-odd pages in front of her, humming when she got to potential dates and cost possibilities and there was a Saturday in March that, somehow, appeared to be free on the Garden schedule.

“March,” Emma answered. “Early March. Have it after Casino Night so that you can actually auction off things for the game. Get the season-tickets to spend some more money and you can have some meet and greets and maybe even a few on-ice moments.” “You’d probably need insurance for that,” Zelena mused, but one side of her mouth had pulled up and she might have been smiling.

It was kind of difficult to tell.

“Not for the players,” Ruby said rationally. “I bet Gina would be all over that for her guys. It’s a fantastic negotiating tool.” “And Jones is an FA.” Ruby nodded, eyes darting between Zelena and Emma with a – very obvious – smile on her face. “Ok,” Zelena continued, staring intently at Emma. “I like the tie in with Casino Night.” “The season-tickets would be all over it,” Emma said, voice picking up the same way it had when she’d explained the idea to Killian. She tried not to think about that. And that didn’t really work either. “Make them pay to get into the game. Make them pay to meet some players. Make them pay to order food at the game. You could probably even get game-day merch.”

“You’re really intent on getting season-tickets to pay for things aren’t you?” Zelena asked, the threat of laughter inching into the question.

“They’ve got some money,” Emma shrugged.

“That’s true.” “Mix in some celebrities too. Bobby Flay, Justin Tuck, make Matt Harvey sign something.” “You don’t want to try and get Matt Harvey on skates too?” “Spring training.” “Ah, of course,” Zelena said, not even trying to stop herself from laughing that time. “Bobby Flay?” “He loves the Rangers.”

“What about the players?”

“What about them?” “Well you’ve thought of everything else,” Zelena shrugged. “What do you want to do with the players? Ruby’s right, Gina would probably love to get her guys out there. Push some sort of community-first narrative. Jones especially. If you’re going to bring GD kids into this, we’ll have to get him out there anyway.” “I was thinking some of them could play, but Killian said…”

Emma cut herself off, eyes going wide when she realized what she’d almost said and Ruby sat up just a bit straighter in the seat next to her.

Zelena didn’t seem particularly impressed with it, however, staring at Emma as she waited for her to continue.

“What about Jones?” she asked. “He said he’d coach. Or consider it.” “Consider it?” “Yeah.” Zelena hummed in agreement, the ends of her mouth tugging down as she considered Killian’s consideration and that wasn’t really fair.

He’d agreed. Already. As soon as Emma almost asked it. Had she actually asked him? She couldn’t really remember.

All she could remember was the look on his face when she’d walked out of the apartment.

“That’s one coach,” Zelena continued and Ruby hadn’t blinked during this entire conversation. Emma was almost nervous about the status of her eyes. “What about the other side?” “Phillip the Rookie?” “Phillip the Rookie?”

“Face of the franchise against the up-and-comer and he’s, like, Killian’s biggest fan. We could market that like crazy.” Emma leaned forward, tapping her finger on the pile of papers half spread across Zelena’s desk. “That’s on page six.” “Game-day merch?” Zelena repeated, catching Emma off guard. She hadn’t expected to move backwards in the conversation.

“Put Phillip the Rookie and Killian on the same t-shirt and half the fandom will buy it solely based on their faces,” Ruby said easily. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed Emma’s shoulders shift, the slight way she pressed up against the back of the chair.

This conversation had lasted more than its five and a half allotted minutes.

“That’s a good point,” Zelena murmured, glancing back down at page six. “We’d have to bring some kids in too. And speaking of which, did you sneak a GD kid into the opener last week? Security was losing its collective mind about it.” Emma rolled her eyes, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and she was actually surprised this was the first time anybody had mentioned it.

Henry had texted her two days after that first practice with Killian and the team, updates on the house and the kid that had gotten adopted. And she hadn’t quite been prepared to be some eleven-year-old’s emotional rock or whatever, but she’d seemed to settle into the role easier than she expected.

She asked if he wanted to come to the opener the day before – just a few hours removed from that particular moment in the alley behind the restaurant – and he’d actually called to answer, screaming into the phone and making Emma wonder if her eardrums would ever actually recover.

“I didn’t sneak him in,” Emma said. “He came in through the gates like everyone else.” “But he’s a GD kid, right?” Zelena pressed, confusion pulling her eyebrows down low. “He came to practice?” “Yeah before Pittsburgh. He’s a huge Rangers fan.”

“He’s a huge Jones fan,” Ruby added, glancing meaningfully at Emma.

“Ah, well, aren’t we all?” Zelena mumbled. Emma rolled her eyes again, doing her best to actually take a deep breath.

“He’ll go nuts for something like this,” she said. “A ton of kids would. Tell Aurora to get whatever forms she has to and maybe we could even get a few of them out on the ice again.”

“The Tarrytown event did go really well.” “Exactly.” “Early March?” Zelena repeated.

Emma nodded. “Before a playoff push.” “Awfully optimistic of you.” “This is the year or something. Whatever the guys say. What’s the PR-appropriate response in this situation, Rubes?” “We think we have a really strong roster and we’re confident in what we’ll be able to do on the ice this season,” Ruby answered immediately.

“As long as Jones stops acting like an idiot against the boards,” Zelena muttered. “He was a disaster last night. I actually thought Arthur was going to hit him with his own stick.” “Who knows what happened once they got back in the locker room,” Ruby laughed, glancing at Emma like it was the funniest joke in the entire world.

Emma didn’t move. She wasn’t convinced she was breathing much anymore and her phone hadn’t buzzed in three days.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine tonight,” Zelena said. “New Jersey’s a joke this season.” “That’s not the PR-appropriate answer.” “Don’t sell me out to the Post then.” “Deal.” They laughed again and Emma still couldn't seem to get enough oxygen into her lungs, tongue tracing over her teeth as she tugged on the end of her hair. Ruby stared at her questioningly, but Zelena was quicker, shifting in her chair and moving the papers back into a small pile before handing them back to Emma.

“This is good,” she said. “Really good.” “Told you you’d be good at this,” Ruby muttered and Emma made a face. She didn’t need a cheerleader. She needed budget support.

And a distraction.

“So?” Emma asked. “Game on or whatever sports cliché you want to use?” Zelena smiled again as she stood up, heels somehow managing to click on the carpet as she walked back towards her office door. “Yeah, Emma, game on. I want a complete budget breakdown before they’re back here for the homestand later this week. Then we’ll talk to Jones and Phillip the Rookie and get Aurora’s opinion on whatever sort of insurance we have to get to make sure the GD kids get out on the ice.” “Yeah, sure.” Zelena was gone half a breath later, out the door and down the hallway and the sound of her ringing phone was barely audible when Emma stood back up, pointedly ignoring Ruby again. Her own phone still hadn’t made a single noise.

It took Ruby all of five seconds to catch up with her once Emma made it into the hallway, nearly tripping over her own feet and dropping her entire plan on the floor when she felt fingers around her wrist, pulling her up short.

“Jeez, Ruby,” Emma mumbled, shaking her head to get her hair out of her eyes. “What’s your deal?” “I could ask you the same exact thing. Now, come on, answer my question.” “About the status of my deal?” “Emma.” “I don’t even really know what you’re asking me.” “I asked you what the matter was about two thousand years ago and you told me you’d been ignoring me and I said that was rude and…” “Alright, alright,” Emma said, holding out her free hand to get Ruby to stop talking. “I don’t need the complete play-by-play.” “I’m worried.” “I’m fine.” Ruby nodded towards the stack of papers resting on Emma’s hip. “That’s fine? That’s a month’s worth of work and you did it in what...two days?” “Two and a half,” Emma muttered, scuffing her foot along the hallway floor.

“Ah, well, an eternity.” “It wasn’t that big of a deal. I just wanted to get it done.” “You’re some sort of community relations machine. Did you even watch the game on Sunday?” “Of course,” Emma said quickly and a bit sharper than she wanted. She wasn’t being entirely honest with herself.

Because if she were being entirely honest with herself, she should have texted him or called him and told him what a goddamn idiot she was because he’d told her something important – had told her a lot more than that – and she’d thrown it all back in his face.

Because if she were being entirely honest with herself, Emma might have actually been able to acknowledge that there was something to what Killian had said, something to believing him. And them – as some sort of collective unit.

“Jones played like garbage,” Ruby said conversationally. She didn’t back down when Emma shot her a very particular type of glare.

“I watched the game Rubes.” “And?” “And what?” “Is that what’s the matter with you? Or what’s going on with you?” “These are all very vague questions.” Ruby groaned, head thrown back in her obvious frustration. “Why are you making this so difficult? You’re all Emma’ing it up.” “Did you just use my name as a verb?” “Yes,” Ruby hissed, taking a step towards Emma and it all felt a bit threatening. “You’re being all you and I know, I know something is going on.” “Nothing is going on.” “When did Jones say he would coach?” “What?” “When did he tell you he’d coach your game?” Ruby said, altering her question slightly like that would, somehow, make Emma want to answer it. “It’s got to be at some point in the last three days, right? So at some point, since Saturday, when this team left for Carolina, you’ve talked to Jones and told him about your charity hockey game idea.” Emma ignored the way her stomach flipped or possibly clenched, refusing to blink when Ruby stared at her, an accusatory look on her face. “These are all accurate facts, Rubes,” she said, shrugging as she shifted the papers in her hand again.

“You didn’t answer my question! Again!” “Saturday,” Emma snapped, frustration getting the better of her. “I told him on Saturday.” In bed. With no clothes on. After she’d told him about Neal. And he’d told her about Milah. And they’d done whatever they’d done for the better part of the previous eight hours. They hadn’t really slept at all.

“You told him first.” “That’s not a question.” Ruby shrugged and Emma’s whole neck cracked when she rolled her head, frustration rolling off her in waves. “Did Reese’s talk to you or something?” “No,” Ruby said, surprise coloring the two letters. “Why? Should she?” “No.” “No?” “No.” “That was a lot of the same word right in a row,” Ruby muttered. “I’ve lost track of the conversation.” Emma laughed softly and some of the tension fell out of her shoulders. “I’m fine, Ruby,” she said and it was only a small lie. She was somewhere in the vicinity of fine, just a few steps away from almost coping. She just needed to plan a budget and make sure Killian Jones would still want to coach a charity hockey game she’d told him about first – which meant, eventually, she was going to have to talk to Killian Jones.

Idiot.

She was a goddamn idiot.

“Is this the part where I apologize for that set-up before?” Ruby asked, a small smile on her face as she tugged on the sleeve of Emma’s jacket. “I should have done it at the restaurant when Belle did, but you were kind of set in your let’s not talk about it anymore. ” “It’s ok,” Emma said.

“He’s a good guy and for whatever it’s worth he probably hates his friends as much as you hate yours, because they’re always doing this. Have been for years.” Emma hummed in agreement, teeth tugging on the inside of her lip and her stomach was doing that thing again. “He is a good guy,” she agreed, shifting on her feet as she tried to decide whether or not to ask the question sitting on the tip of her tongue.

“What?” “There wasn’t...in all those set-ups…” “Anyone that, what, stuck?” Emma nodded and Ruby shook her head quickly. “No, no, not even close. I think it almost became some sort of competition with Locksley and Scarlet, trying to see who they could find that would maybe get Jones to agree to the set-up. Even Gina tried last season, some friend from school who was some sort of huge Rangers fan. He was less than interested in that. I think...well, there was something or someone, right before he got hurt, but I had only been here for a season or so and I didn’t really know him that well then.”

“And you do now?” Emma continued, curiosity outweighing that nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she had completely fucked up.

Ruby shrugged. “Better than I did then. That’s why I agreed to the set-up. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think you’d at least like him.” “He’s a good guy,” Emma repeated.

“Alright, alright,” Ruby sighed. “You don’t need to try and placate me. I heard you at the restaurant, all friends and everything. I’ll back off. I promise. And the game is a freaking fantastic idea by the way.” “I think we could do a lot for GD. Season-tickets will go nuts for that kind of stuff. All sorts of karma to be bought up.” Ruby stared at her knowingly, but she didn’t actually voice her opinions, didn’t say anything about how this all played into Emma’s past just a bit too perfectly or how she kept talking to Henry weeks after his GD event had wrapped.

That wasn’t exactly par for the course – or whatever the hockey equivalent of that particular sports clich é was.

“Relating to the community so well,” Ruby smiled, tugging on Emma’s sleeve again like some sort of PR-mother. “I knew you could do it.” “Tell me that when we actually budget a charity hockey game.” “Please, like I said, if you get Jones and Phillip the Rookie to coach this thing and put them on a t-shirt, it’ll sell like...hot cakes or something.” “Hot cakes? Are you a thousand years old?” “You’re, like, the rudest person in this building, you know that?” “I’ll save you a t-shirt,” Emma promised, grinning at a slightly put-out Ruby before walking back towards the bank of elevators at the other end of the hallway.

She had work to do.

Emma walked into the loft later that night, weighed down by another pile of papers – Merida proving to be some sort of research machinewhen it came to finding out how previous charity games had run at the Garden – and there were numbers to crunch, or something that sounded less lame, and a game to watch and, maybe, text messages to be sent.

If she didn’t lose her nerve.

She’d probably lose her nerve.

Emma barely had time to consider the status of her nerves, however, running into an outstretched hand as soon as she closed the loft door behind her.

“Ah,” Mary Margaret gasped, jumping back and nearly spilling the contents of the two glasses in her hands. “Careful!” “What even, Reese’s? Were you just waiting behind the door the entire night?” “No,” she muttered, moving back towards the couch and putting the glasses on the coffee table in front of her – right next to the already-open bottle of wine.

“What is this?” “I wasn’t waiting behind the door all night.” Emma slid her shoes off, kicking them towards the small pile of footwear in the corner of the room and ignoring Mary Margaret’s soft tut when she didn’t put them back where they belonged. “Just, you know, since Merida texted me and let me know that you’d left work and weren’t going to the restaurant to watch the game. Again.” “Reese’s,” Emma said slowly, walking towards the couch and sinking into her designated corner. “Is this some sort of intervention?” “Of course not!” “What is it then?” “A conversation?” “That sounded a bit like a question.” “Yeah, well, you’re you. And you don’t do well when you’re backed into a corner.” Emma opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to actually voice the words, not when Mary Margaret kept giving her that look and the pre-game show was already on in the background, comments about Killian’s concerning play the game before.

She took a deep breath, twisting her lips and reaching forward to grab one of the wine glasses in front of her. “That’s true,” Emma mumbled.

Mary Margaret eyed her cautiously, but she grabbed her own glass when she seemed to decide Emma wasn’t actually going to start shouting or tearing apart the couch. There were a lot of decorative pillows there as well.

“No questions?” Emma asked, glancing at Mary Margaret over the top of her glass.

“You tell me.” Emma shifted in the corner of the couch, tugging her legs up and glancing at the TV. The team was on the ice – announcers talking about the early-season hopes and whether or not Phillip the Rookie would be able to keep his spot on the first line, something about how his speed matched up with Killian’s and she was only really half listening. She tugged on her lip while she watched them go through warmups, shooting pucks towards a half-trying Jefferson and the camera zoomed in on Killian and Robin, leaning up against the boards with sticks in their hands and slightly tense looks on their face.

She sighed loud enough for Mary Margaret to hear her, tongue darting over her suddenly dry lips and Emma needed to tell someone – certain her whole body was going to snap in half if she held any more stress in between her shoulder blades.

“I think I made a mistake,” Emma muttered quietly, downing half of her glass as soon as the words were out her mouth.

“About?” “So, uh, remember when I told you that nothing was going on and everything was all friendship and friends and just talking?” She rushed over the words, refusing to meet Mary Margaret’s presumably stunned gaze. “Well, that was kind of a lie. Or it was a lie. The biggest lie. Like in the history of the world.” Emma pulled her eyes up to find Mary Margaret staring her as if she’d never seen her before, mouth half open and wine glass barely upright as her grip slacked just a bit. “Wait, wait, are we talking about you and Killian?” Mary Margaret stuttered. Emma nodded. “What’s the opposite of friendship and friends and just talking?” “Not that. Or that plus other things.” “Other things.” “Reese’s.” “I’m confused.” “Think about it for two seconds. I, uh, I didn’t go to Ruby’s on Saturday.” Mary Margaret’s eyes widened to what must have been dangerous proportions and Emma gulped the rest of her wine quickly. It felt like a boulder in her stomach. “You were with Killian?” she asked, whispering out the words.

“Yup.” “Doing what?” “Oh my God, Reese’s you did not just ask me that question.”

Her eyes, somehow, got even bigger – all brown and confused and there was not enough wine in the world to have this conversation. The game had already started.

“Ok,” Mary Margaret said quickly, setting down her untouched wine. Emma grabbed it immediately, ignoring the quiet reprimand she got for her actions. “So you left the game with him?” Emma nodded. “Where’d you go?” “His very fancy apartment on Amsterdam Ave.” Mary Margaret made a face, looking impressed that the captain of the New York Rangers could afford an apartment on Amsterdam Avenue. “And?” “And what, Reese’s? I stayed.” “Exactly.” She still couldn’t quite rationalize that – three days of radio silence and no fun facts about Carolina, either North or South, and Emma still couldn’t quite understand why she’d stayed. That wasn’t her move.

She left.

She walked away before she could wake up to find an arm still wrapped around her waist or a voice in her ear and she’d been the one to suggest they not even try to fall back asleep when they’d woken up far too early.

He’d probably been late to film.

She didn’t know. They hadn’t talked in three days.

“Why?” Mary Margaret pressed.

“I wanted to.” There it was – the truth, as much as three words could be some sort of overwhelming, deep-set type of truth. Emma had wanted and she wanted him and she wanted to stay and she wished he’d text her so they could decide if they were actually using boyfriend and girlfriendin some sort of high-school nonsense that might be kind of nice.

She glanced back up at the TV when she heard the whistles.

He’d gotten a penalty – another penalty – and Arthur was screaming on the bench and Killian was halfway to the box by the time they showed a replay. It was another crosscheck, the same move he’d used in Carolina and Emma wondered where he’d learned that, able to get his stick just underneath pads in a way that could only hurt like hell.

“Like you wanted to kiss him,” Mary Margaret pointed out and that was hardly fair because one person shouldn’t be able to know Emma that well. Or be able to call her out that well.

“Has this been happening the whole time?”

“The staying at his apartment?” Emma asked. Mary Margaret nodded. “No, no, that didn’t happen until the opener. Yes to the kissing though. Like a, frankly, ridiculous amount of kissing.” Mary Margaret smiled at that – a romantic at heart who couldn't quite seem to keep her features neutral when the possibility of Emma being happy was concerned. “So you go home with him on Friday and scare me to death and what happens next?” “Nothing,” Emma answered quickly, eyes darting back towards the screen when Killian came racing out of the box, nearly connecting on a breakaway when Phillip the Rookie set him up in the neutral zone.

Almost.

She tried not to read in that too much.

“Nothing?” Mary Margaret repeated, voice catching just a bit on that one word. “Oh my God, Emma. Did you leave?”

“Like as soon as I got your text. And voicemail. And David’s text. I hadn’t seen it before. My phone was with my dress.” “Was your dress not with you?”

“My dress spent the night in the living room.” Mary Margaret let out a sound that might have been a laugh or a scoff and Emma’s head whipped around when she heard the buzz of the goal signal, breath catching in her throat when she saw Killian’s hands in the air.

“I’ve got to ask you another question,” Mary Margaret said, distracting Emma from the replay and the rebound had landed on Killian’s stick almost perfectly. He barely even had to move his stick – it was almost too easy.

“Go for it.” “If you spent the night, if you went in the first place and you guys have been doing a ridiculous amount of kissing since that first kiss, why would you leave? Was it bad?” “Oh my God.” “It’s an honest question.” “No,” Emma said sharply. “No. It was...the opposite of that. It was...overwhelming.” “That’s not really your thing.” “I told him about Neal.” Mary Margaret’s whole body sagged forward, breath rushing out of her quickly and loudly and Emma tried to look like this was fine. “That’s big, Emma.” “I know. I know. I think we’ve been dating for the last two weeks.” She didn’t tell Mary Margaret about Milah or what had happened in that car or what Killian had said before she’d practically sprinted out of the apartment, the enormous space suddenly feeling like a straight jacket. She didn’t think she could.

That was Killian’s story.

“You think?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Well we haven’t really talked since Saturday.” Mary Margaret made a face, unable to completely mask her sigh at Emma’s complete inability to be a human with actual, functioning emotions. “You still didn’t answer my question. Why did you leave? Because I was worried about you?” Emma considered her answer – trying to find the words she hadn’t been able to quite decide on in the last three days. “Pillows,” she said after what felt like a decade of silence right there on the couch.

“What?” “He had a ridiculous amount of pillows on his bed.” “And that made you freak out?” “His mom, foster mom, whatever, used to have pillows. Everywhere, he said, and it was like some sort of home for him and so now he’s rich and famous and the captain of the New York Rangers and he’s got all these pillows and they do this ridiculous ritual before the season opener and Locksley and Scarlet still talk to his brother. They all talk to each other and his sisters and it’s just…” Home.

He had a home.

And Emma had a couch.

She didn’t have pillows. She’d never had pillows.

This metaphor was ridiculous.

Mary Margaret had that look on her face again. “Oh, Emma,” she muttered, reaching out to wrap her fingers around Emma’s wrist.

“And then you were worried and we’ve been doing this under the radar thing and you knew. Or you would know and I hadn’t really thought about it the night before, I just wanted.” “You’re allowed to want things.”

“Not like this.” Emma bit her lip tightly, words feeling almost heavy when she said them and they seemed to almost visibly hang in the air as Mary Margaret kept her fingers wrapped around her wrist. “He’s got people, Reese’s,” Emma continued. “A family.” “You could have that too.” She blinked once, a bit stunned at how easily Mary Margaret had rationalized everything in a few words and one sentence and her whole face had shifted as soon as she promised Emma, smiling at her with a determination that simply couldn’t be questioned.

Mary Margaret got what she wanted.

And she’d make sure everyone else got what they wanted along the way.

“You make it all sound very easy,” Emma muttered. She was out of wine again and the period was almost over. They were winning.

“There’s no reason it couldn’t be.” “I walked out.” “So apologize for that.” “People are going to talk.” “So keep doing whatever under the radar thing you’re doing now. I won’t sell you out to Page Six or anything.” “No David?” “No David,” Mary Margaret promised and Emma was half a second away from actually crying in the corner of the couch, a wave of emotion and something that might have been an almost kind of family hitting her suddenly. She was a mess.

“Is he really going to coach your charity game?” May Margaret asked.

“How could you possibly know about that?” Mary Margaret shrugged. “Zelena told Aurora who told Regina and I guess Ariel was nearby? It was like a whole ridiculous string of gossip.” “Of course.” “You don’t have to worry, Emma. I know you will because you’re you, but I’ve got a good feeling about this.” “How do you always do that?” “What?” “Know exactly what to say in order to make me believe things. You always get me to believe things.” “Actual years of practice,” Mary Margaret laughed, squeezing Emma’s hand tightly. “And you’ve had a very specific look on your face for the last few weeks. I knew something was going on. I’m a genius.”

Emma groaned, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling and she knew Mary Margaret was right. She was happy – or had been happy or maybe could be happy again. If she could get up the courage to text him.

That was proving a bit more difficult when she couldn’t exactly take a deep breath.

“Hey,” Mary Margaret said quickly, leaning forward as if she had some sort of sixth sense for when Emma was feeling particularly terrified or prone to emotional breakdowns in the corner of the couch. “It’s going to be ok. I’m sure he’ll understand.” “How? We kind of dove face-first into emotions and he was…” Everything? Fantastic? Staring at her like he might actually care as much as he promised? All of those things sounded absurd. They were all true. “I walked out.” “So explain why you did.” Emma eyed her meaningfully and Mary Margaret’s head fell to the side, landing almost audibly on her shoulder. “Alright, so don’t tell him the whole thing, but tell him some of the things. Or, I don’t know, wear his jersey again.” Emma groaned, dimly aware of the start of the second period. “This team is the worst.” “No it’s not. And neither are you, so stop thinking that you are. He’ll understand.” “You seem awfully certain.” “Nothing is ever certain,” Mary Margaret said and that didn’t do much to help the knot of anxiety in the pit of Emma’s stomach. “But even believing in the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.”

Mary Margaret smiled at her – certainty and positivity and the force of the the entire goddamn sun all contained in a single look – and Emma found herself wanting to believe. She grabbed her phone out of her back pocket, pushing up slightly in the corner of the couch to stare at the screen like it held the answers to all the questions of the universe.

The New Jersey Devils name was selected as part of a newspaper contest, but it was based on the Jersey Devil, which is reported to have lived in the Pine Barrens. He was a monster. Thirteenth son. Totally the worst.

She was almost asleep when her phone vibrated, the sound echoing in her ears just under the pillow she had propped up against the arm of Mary Margaret’s couch.

They’d won.

A bounceback victory of the highest order – at least according to the MSG announcers who promised that Killian Jones had, obviously, put his less-than-impressive second game of the season in the metaphorical rearview mirror.

He’d scored again and assisted on Robin’s empty-netter and he’d been first star. She’d smiled at that.

I didn’t know that, Swan.

Emma bit her lip and she blinked blearily at the screen, the only light in Mary Margaret’s pitch-black living room.

I thought you knew everything.

Not quite so much anymore.

She pressed her teeth down until it actually hurt, certain she was going to push through her entire lip and she could actually taste blood in her mouth.

First star. That second goal was ridiculous.

Thanks.

The announcers were going nuts. And you almost had the hat trick if the shot after the penalty had gone in.

He didn’t answer and Emma didn’t really sleep again, the knot of whatever in the pit of her stomach making it difficult to do anything except stare at the ceilings and come up with all the reasons why she was the absolute worst.

She’d totally fucked up.

#cs ff #captain swan fanfiction #ouat ff #cs #csbb #blue line #in which mary margaret has thoughts and opinions

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