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alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years

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We’ve Got Tonight

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Word Count: 3,540

Square: Free Space, using “We’ve Got Tonight” by Bob Seger from the song list (song lyrics in bold type)

TW: Includes a brief re-cap of “Sightless in a Savage Land”, so a brief mention of rape murder; angst, hurt/comfort, implied smut

Tags: @thatesqcrush, @madamsnape921

A/N: This is a follow up to “An Exile of Our Own Making”. Sorry for the delay in getting this out. Everything was going fine until I hit a patch of writer’s block and bad mental health days. This starts prior to “Sightless in a Savage Land” and then jumps to immediately afterward. This also ended up being on the longer side. I feel like I threw everything at it, except the kitchen sink.

After your fateful meeting with Rafael you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. The next day you went into work and everyone seemed to automatically know that something was wrong. Amanda and Kat eventually got it out of you. As expected, Amanda wasn’t thrilled that you’d gone to see your ex without her to back you up. Kat, ever the good partner, said she’d there to listen if you wanted to talk about it. You didn’t but thanked her anyway. Lucia Barba called three times, begging you to come to Christmas dinner and talk to her son. As much as you wanted one of Lucia’s home-cooked meals, you politely declined. You were working the Christmas shift. You did reassure her that you would speak to Rafael again, but only when you were ready to, and on your own terms.

You also scheduled an emergency session with your therapist. She also wasn’t thrilled that you had gone to see Rafael, but she listened while you cried and dumped out the contents of your heart. It eventually led to a discussion about forgiveness, more specifically, whether or not you could forgive Rafael. You had told her that you thought you could, but you still needed more time to process your current emotions. You needed to sit down and have an actual conversation with him, you had barely given him an opportunity to speak when you’d last met. You figured that you should at least give him a chance to explain himself, even if it hurt to hear it.

******************

Thankfully Christmas Day was uneventful. You caught up on all your paperwork, reviewed open casefiles, updated some profiles and case notes, and cleaned and reorganized your desk. Liv called a couple hours before your shift was over to check in and tell you to go home early and enjoy the rest of the day. You thanked her, and then called in your usual order to your favorite Thai takeout place as you were walking out the door.

********************

When you arrived back at your apartment, takeout dinner in hand, you were met at the door by a talkative orange ball of fluff.

“Mrow! Mrow! Mrow!”

“Yes, baby, I know! Your dinner is late,” You said to your cat. You made sure your door was locked, then put down your food and work bag and shrugged off your coat and boots. “Just give me a sec- hey! Inigo! That food is not for you!”

Inigo stopped sniffing the takeout bag and looked at you like he was insulted. You sighed and picked up the food, taking into your kitchen and placing it on the counter. You then grabbed Inigo’s food and water bowls. You refilled the water bowl and put it back down, hoping it would distract him while you opened the cat food can and used a fork to deposit the wet, squishy substance into his food dish. Because it was Christmas, you garnished it with few cat treats. You put the dish down next to his water bowl and he hungrily dug in.

“Merry Christmas, Inigo,” you said with a smile.

After changing into your pajamas, you settled on the couch with your dinner and a glass of wine and began your annual Christmas movie marathon. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stay awake, so you started off with Gremlins. You had just gotten to the part where Billy is starting to bond with Gizmo when you phone rang. You grabbed it off the coffee table and saw it was Lucia Barba wanting to facetime. You swiped to answer and were shocked to see Rafael’s face looking back at you.

“Hi, I know that I’m probably the last person that you want to talk to, but I just wanted to say, Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad you called, but next time, use your own phone, okay? Merry Christmas Rafael. How are you?”

“I’m about as well as I can be. You?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied. A loud sound from your TV got both your attention.

“Is that the sound of a Mogwai in distress?” Rafael inquired. “You’re watching Gremlins, aren’t you?”

“Of course, I am, it’s my favorite Christmas movie.”

At that moment, Inigo decided to jump into your lap and demand his nightly cuddles.

“Wait, you have a cat now?”

At the sound of Rafael’s voice, Inigo turned and looked at your phone, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

“Mrow?”

“Yes, I do. Rafael, meet Inigo. Inigo, can you say ‘Hi’ to Rafael?”

Inigo gave a disinterested “Mrow”, and then curled up in your lap and started to purr. You massaged his head with your free hand.

“Wow,” said Rafael, “I was not expecting that. Is he named after who I think he’s named after?”

“Yes, he is,” you chuckled. “I adopted him about six months after you left. My therapist thought it might be good if I had an animal to take care of, and I’ve always been a cat person. He was an injured kitten when I found him at the shelter. I took one look at him, and I just knew. He’s been my fluffy baby ever since.”

You were surprised how easily the conversation flowed between the two of you. Neither of you brought up the elephant in the room, but that was okay. You weren’t ready to have that conversation yet, and when you did, you wanted it to be face to face. Right now, it just felt good to talk to him again. He told you about the legal work he’d been doing, you told him stories about your cat, and how Sonny was doing working in the DA’s office. And by the time you signed off the call, you felt a spark of hope growing in your heart.

********************

The time between Christmas and New Year’s came and went. You spoke to Rafael a few more times via facetime. You had time to think, and the more you thought about it, the more you wondered if a second chance was staring you right in the face. Life wasn’t a movie and most people didn’t get second chances, but every day that went by made you a little more sure that reconciliation was possible.

Rafael was on your mind so much that you were almost grateful when you were awoken in the wee hours of New Year’s morning by the Amber Alert on your phone. SVU was being called in to find a missing teenage girl, and it was just the distraction you needed. If only you had known the twists and turns that case would take, evolving into a rape, and then murder case, when’s the girl’s father, Mickey Davis, shot and killed her rapist.

Rafael stepped in and defended Davis. It was both heart-wrenching and exhilarating to watch him go up against Sonny in the courtroom. Sonny was your friend and former partner, and you knew he wasn’t happy about the situation. But watching Rafael strut around the courtroom, making his arguments, cross-examining witnesses, making objections, you couldn’t help but be completely in awe of him. He was wholly in his element, like he’d never been gone.

**********************

When all was said and done, Sonny walked away victorious with a guilty verdict. He should have been thrilled, but instead he was sitting in Forlini’s with you, Rafael, and the rest of the team, sulking into his beer. You stood off to the side, nursing your Jack and Coke, unsure of what to say or do to make him feel better. You and Rafael had behaved like complete professionals when you had to interact during the case, but that hadn’t stopped a stressed-out Sonny from snapping at you and calling your friendship and loyalty into question.

So, you kept your mouth shut and stared longingly at Rafael, hanging onto his every word. At some point he received a text from his mother and headed out, saying something about Lucia insisting on going to Miami to visit the rest of the family. You saw Amanda stand up and you thought she was headed back to the bar, but you then felt her elbow you in the side. You gave her a look of confusion.

“What are you waiting for? Go after him,” she told you.

You nodded in response, put the rest of your drink down, and grabbed your coat and purse.

“Thanks Coach, good pep talk.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied. “Now go get your man.”

You exited Forlini’s and looked up and down the sidewalk for Rafael, but he wasn’t there. You decided to check around the corner, and if you still didn’t catch sight of him, you would go back to bar and call him. You dashed down the street and around the corner. You stopped in your tracks when you saw him, his back to you, deep in conversation with Liv. Liv saw you, gave you a nod and smiled.

“Happy New Year, Rafael, “she told him, “Oh, and I think someone else wants a word with you.”

Rafael turned and smiled when he saw you, and you smiled back. Liv patted you on the shoulder she walked by, leaving you and Rafael alone together. You took a deep breath and walked toward him.

“Hi,” you said, when you got close enough.

“Hi,” he replied.

“You did really well today, Rafael, I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot.”

“Look, “you started, “I know your plans don’t include me right now, but I was thinking that maybe, if you have time later, I’m ready to sit down and actually talk. I never gave you a chance to explain yourself, and I’m sorry. I didn’t handle that well.”

“Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t handle it well, either. Everything you said, I needed to hear.”

“All the same, please, Rafael?” You gazed up into his green eyes. You felt your resolve cracking again as a tear rolled down your face. Rafael gently touched your cheek, brushing it away with his thumb, and this time, you didn’t pull away from his touch.

“It’s okay, Cariño, if you want to talk, then we’ll talk.”

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. And then you did want you wanted to do the first moment you saw him sitting there in Forlini’s: You wrapped your arms around his sturdy torso and buried your face in the crook of his neck, holding on for dear life. You felt his arms circle around you, pulling you as close as he could. You breathed in his scent, a mixture of his cologne, coffee, whiskey, and something that was uniquely him. You felt him run his fingers through your hair and kiss your forehead.

“It’s okay, Cariño,” he murmured softly. “I’ve got you, you’re okay, you’re okay. I’m right here.”

“Then why am I scared that you’ll disappear if I let go?”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood there holding onto each other. It was obvious that neither one of you wanted to let go. Rafael massaged small circles into your back, whispering words of comfort and reassurance into your ear. You melted into him, just like you had so many times before. Any remaining doubts you had flew out of your mind. You loved him. You belonged with him. You forgave him. You wanted him back.

“Cariño? I’ll tell you what, why don’t you come have dinner with me and my mother tonight?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” your replied, shaking yourself out of your thoughts.

“You’re not imposing. My mother would love to see you, and you know how she cooks; there will be more than enough food.”

“I’d be late, I have run back home first. I have a hungry cat waiting for me, remember?”

“Then we will take a detour to Brooklyn on the way to the Bronx,” Rafael said with a chuckle.

“You do know that’s an out-of-the-way detour, right?”

“Cariño, as far as I’m concerned, it’s worth it. I’ll just text my mother and let her know that I’m running late.”

********************

Thankfully traffic wasn’t as heavy as it usually was, and you got back to your apartment relatively quickly. Rafael waited in the car while you ran in, fed Inigo, changed out of your work clothes, and ran back out. Then it was off to Lucia’s apartment in the Bronx. As promised, Lucia welcomed you with open arms.

“Hermosa!” She cried, enveloping you in a hug. “I’m so happy to see you! I missed you at Christmas! Come in! Come in! Dinner is almost ready. Rafi! Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing Y/N?”

“I wanted to surprise you, Mamí,” he said, embracing his mother.

“Well, consider me surprised then. I’ll go set an extra place at the table.”

She headed for the kitchen and Rafael took your coat, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He placed a tentative hand on your lower back, but once again, you didn’t pull away. You gazed into his emerald eyes, allowing yourself to get lost for a moment. Before you could stop yourself, your hand was caressing his cheek. You shuddered when he placed his hand over yours and kissed your palm. Your heart pounded like a jackhammer in your chest, and you started wonder what would happen if you just-

“Dinner’s ready!” Lucia called.

You took a step back and tried to pull your hand away, but Rafael held on and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Shall we?”

You nodded and let him lead you to the kitchen, where you were met with a variety of delicious smells and a veritable feast.

“Oh, Lucia, you have outdone yourself again!”

“Just a little something to celebrate my son being back in court and doing what he does best,” she said with a grin.

“Mamí, I didn’t win today.”

“Rafael, that doesn’t matter,” you said, giving him a look. “You walked into that courtroom with your head held high and fought like hell for your client. Watching you, it was awe inspiring, it was brilliant, it was astounding. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” You stopped, realizing that both Rafael and Lucia were staring at you. “Maybe we should sit down and eat?”

“Yes, I think we should,” said Lucia, giving you a smirk and a knowing look.

Grace was said, dishes were passed, and between the conversation and shoveling forkfuls of food into your mouth, the time flew by. It had been so long since the last time the three of you had been together like this, but it felt like the years hadn’t passed at all. You had missed this, wanted it to be your normal again. Every time your eyes caught Rafael’s he would reach for your hand and give it a gentle squeeze, and you wondered if he felt the same way.

Before you and Rafael left, Rafael double-checked his mother’s flight information. She was flying out the next morning, and Rafael promised he’d be there bright and early to take her to the airport.

“Rafi, I am more than capable of getting myself to the airport.”

“I know, Mamí, but I insist. I just want to make sure that you get there and don’t have any issues with checking in.”

“Fine, but don’t forget to bring in my mail every day and check the fridge occasionally. If something looks or smells like it’s going bad, throw it out.”

‘I will, Mamí, I promise.”

Lucia gave him a hug and kissed his cheek, then did the same to you. She made sure to hand you both large Tupperware containers with the all the leftovers.

“This is to make sure you don’t starve. And Hermosa, take care of my son? Make sure he eats something other than take-out?”

“I will, Lucia, I promise.”

**********************

You unlocked your apartment door, but before opening it, you turned to Rafael.

“You’re sure that you’re ready for this?”

“Yes, Cariño, I’m ready to meet your cat,” he reassured you for the umpteenth time.

“Okay…”

You opened the door and you and Rafael entered the apartment. You were promptly headbutted in the leg before you could even get your coat off.

“Mrow! Mrow! Mrow! Mrow!”

“Yes, baby, I’m sorry I went out and left you here all alone.” You picked up Inigo and cuddled him in your arms. “It’s okay, baby, Mommy’s home now.” You turned towards Rafael. “Rafael, this is Inigo. Inigo, this is Rafael.”

“Hi there, Inigo, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

Inigo looked at Rafael, then looked up at you incredulously.

“Mrow?”

“Inigo be nice…I have an idea! Rafael, his treats are in the corner cabinet, 1st shelf.” You pointed towards the kitchen. Rafael ran to your kitchen and came back with the cat treats. He shook a few into his hand and held them out to Inigo. The cat took a tentative sniff, and then gobbled down the treats, even licking the crumbs off Rafael’s fingers. “There, you happy now?” Inigo gave an affirmative “Mrow”, and you put him down.

“Sorry about that,” you said, standing back up and finally taking your coat off. “He can be a little grumpy around new people. Drink?”

“It’s okay, I get it,” said Rafael, removing his coat and suit jacket and draping them over a kitchen chair. “Yes, please, a drink would be great.”

You put your leftovers in the fridge and opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. You expertly poured and handed a glass to Rafael. He thanked you, and you took the other glass and motioned towards the living room. “Shall we?” Rafael nodded and followed you to the couch. You both glanced at each other awkwardly, not sure how to begin.

“I guess I should start by apologizing again,” Rafael finally spoke, “and I am truly sorry, Cariño, for everything. I never should have left the way that I did. After the trial, I really believed it was all over. I saw my future and all of my hopes fading away. I couldn’t go back to the DA’s office, couldn’t face the scrutiny, couldn’t face you, couldn’t even face myself. So, I took the coward’s way out, and I ran. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. I convinced myself that I needed time and distance to figure things out, but I wasn’t thinking straight, I know that now. I felt like I was suffocating. Everything was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it…”

“You could have come to me. We could have figured it out together…” You reached for his hand and held it between both of yours. “I never would have turned my back on you.”

“I know that, dear god, do I know that,” Rafael hung his head, tears starting to leak out of his eyes. “I thought I’d be sparing you so much unnecessary pain and humiliation. Knowing that I only caused you more…I’ll never forgive myself. I never should have pushed you away. I’ve spent every moment regretting it.” He turned his head and looked you right in the eye.” I never meant to hurt you; I swear I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said, feeling your own fresh round of tears coming on. “Come here.”

You wrapped your arms around him and held him close. He embraced you in return, placing his head on your shoulder. It was so rare for you to see him like this, opening up, letting his guard down, being vulnerable. He was hurting just as much as you were, longing for shelter, longing for an end to all the years of heartache. You gently cupped his face in your hands to that he was looking you in the eye again.

“I forgive you, Rafael, I forgive everything. Deep in my soul, I’ve been so lonely, and I don’t want to live like that anymore, and I don’t think you do either. Still here we are, both of us lonely. Let’s make it last, let’s find a way.”

“Are you saying- “

“Yes, I love you, Rafael, come back to me.”

Your lips found his. The kiss started out soft and gentle, but soon became deeper and more intense. You let go of his face and draped your arms around his neck. Rafael pulled you into his lap, one arm around your back, his other hand in your hair. You both desperately tried to communicate three years of pent up longing and desire without words. Nothing else mattered, just the two of you, in your apartment, and nothing was going to tear you apart again.

“I love you, Y/N,” said Rafael when you finally broke apart to catch your breaths.

“I love you, too, Rafael.”

“Look, I know it’s late, I know you’re weary, but I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to spend another night away from you.”

You kissed him again.

“Then don’t. We’ve got tonight, babe, why don’t you stay?”

#thatesqcrush vday bingo #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #rafael barba imagines #svu #svu fanfiction #fan fiction

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

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take me out to the back of the shed (and shoot me in the back of the head)

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Title is from the song Old Yeller. It’s apparently a TikTok trend song but I first heard it from a furry animation when I was in 8th grade lol

Word count: 3112

Prompt: “Calm down! You’re scaring me!”

———————

“Jane! Jane, look at this painting I made for you!”

“Yeah, yeah- hang on a moment. I’m busy.”

“Jane-”

“In a minute.”

“But-”

“In a minute!”

This is the exchange Anne watched from down the hall- Joan following Jane around with a canvas gripped tightly in her hands like a little duckling and Jane doing her best to pretend the girl didn’t exist. After she was snapped at, Joan moved away slightly, but then perked up, hope glinting in her eyes.

“Okay...I’ll wait in my dressing room, alright?”

“Alright,” Jane said, not really listening to what was being said to her.

“Just come in when you’re done, okay?”

“Okay, Joan.”

“Great!” Joan beamed. “I’ll be waiting!”

With that, Joan turned around and scurried back to her dressing room, an excited smile on her lips. Anne watched her go, waited a moment, then walked to Jane’s room. Inside, the woman seemed to be packing up to leave for the day.

“You’re going to go see Joan, right?”

Jane looked up as she was grabbing her purse. She sniffed, nostrils flaring slightly, clearly miffed.

“She can wait.”

“She would starve to death by the time you finally got around to seeing her,” Anne pointed out, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. She raised an eyebrow at Jane as if to add, “Am I wrong?”

“I have other things to do.” Jane said, sliding past the comment instead of facing it head on.

“Like what? Knit? Watch Love Island? Cuddle Kitty for the hundredth time?” Anne narrowed her eyes in an accusing stare. She’s been defensive of Joan ever since the Live where the music director fell asleep in her lap. “All of that stuff will still be there after you take ten minutes to go see what Joan made for you.”

Jane’s soft, kind facial features contort into that of a snarling white tiger’s- teeth bared, eyes alight, ears pinned back. But Anne wasn’t scared of her- not anymore. Deep down, she knew that Jane was nothing but a scared little kitten trapped in a circus cage.

“Joan isn’t my main priority,” Jane said dismissively, but the tiger’s claws remained unsheathed. “I don’t have to do anything for her.”

“Jane, that girl would take a bullet for you.” Anne said, stalking closer. Her voice went into a low whisper- a growl of sorts. “You know that, Jane. She would do anything for you.”

It was like a stare down between a tiger and a mountain lion- neither wanted to back down or step away.

“Why can’t you just be a good person? I’m not asking you to sign adoption forms for the kid, I’m asking you to just be a friend to her and go see what she wants to show you. It’s not that hard. It’s— her presence isn’t going to strike you dead! Just go look at her painting!”

Jane stared into Anne’s smoldering eyes, adjusted the strap of her purse hanging from her shoulder, and stepped past her towards the door.

“Kitty needs me.” She merely said.

“Of course she does,” Anne rolled her eyes. “It’s not like there’s three other fucking people living in that house than can respond to her every beck and call.”

Jane didn’t reply, as she was already out the door and making her way to the lobby by the time Anne finished her grumbled comment.

Anne considered going after her and dragging her to Joan’s dressing room by the hair, but she didn’t want to give the woman anymore thought. So, instead, she went to the dressing room herself and her heart broke a little when she saw Joan sitting patiently in the chair at her desk, legs swinging back and forth excitedly, smiling down at the canvas in her hands. Her head snapped up when she heard Anne step inside, but her expression dimmed when she saw that it wasn’t the silver queen.

“Oh. Hey, Anne.”

“What? Am I really that bad company?” Anne said teasingly.

“No,” Joan said, giggling slightly. “I just- I thought you were Jane.”

Anne frowned. She walked over to the girl and set a hand on her shoulder. Joan looked up with those adorable, glistening lamb eyes of hers and the words momentarily caught in Anne’s throat.

“I don’t think Jane is coming, dear.”

Joan blinked. Anne knew she knew what she meant, but she was trying to not believe it by playing dumb.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“She just left.” Anne answered gently.

Like that, all hope and excitement is gone in a flash, replaced with deep sadness that forms over Joan’s head like a thick, dark rain cloud. She looked down at the painting lying in her lap and clenched her fists tightly around the edges.

“Oh.” She whispered.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Anne said. She looked down at the canvas, too, and before her eyes soft watercolors and metallic paints and dark line-art came together brilliantly to form the beautiful painting of Jane Seymour. It was a bust shot of her in her show costume, but she was also adorned in shimmering strings of diamonds and pearls and topazes, and had a sparkling crystal crown sitting atop her head.

“This is beautiful, Joan!” Anne exclaimed honestly, because it absolutely was true. Joan truly was skilled with paints and pencils. “You’re so talented.”

“Thanks,” Joan replied, slightly disconnected. She appreciated the comment, Anne knew she loved praise, but she didn’t want to hear it from the green queen.

She wanted to hear it from the silver one.

Joan sighed and stood up, and Anne half expected her to destroy the painting or throw it away, but a tiny, hopeful smile actually tugged at her lips.

“I’m just going to leave it on her makeup table,” She said. “So- so it’ll be the first thing she sees tomorrow!”

Anne smiled and gently rubbed the girl’s head.

“That’s a good idea, Joey!” She said, even though she knew the odds of Jane actually going to Joan and telling her how much she loved the piece of art were very slim.

Still, for the time being, it cheered Joan up and she beamed at Anne before hurrying to go put the canvas in its place. Anne’s smile disappeared the moment she was out of sight and she sighed. She made a mental note to stay up until 11:11 that night so she could try wishing. Might as well see if the superstition was true.

———

Anne ended up falling asleep way before 11:11, but it didn’t matter because she knew trying to wish on a set of ones on her phone screen and alarm clock wouldn’t have made a difference since Jane would still be prancing around the theater like she is now, as if she hadn’t been gifted a gorgeous work of art. Anne wasn’t even sure if she had even seen the painting, but upon peeking inside the dressing room and seeing that the canvas was moved to the side of one of the makeup tables proved that Jane had, in fact, seen it.

She just didn’t care.

And that made Anne furious.

Poor Joan. She didn’t even have time to warn or distract the girl before she was skittering up to Jane with excitement glittering in her eyes.

“Jane!”

Jane sighed as she was getting a cup of coffee from the break room. If Joan heard the noise, she didn’t acknowledge it and just kept up her eager demeanor.

“Hello, Joan,” Jane said. All evidence of the warmth she had been speaking to Kitty with just a few minutes earlier was now gone.

“Did you see my painting? The one I made for you?” Joan asked. “I waited for you yesterday, but you didn’t come in and I just assumed you were too busy, so I left it on your table! It was there, right? Did you see it? Or did it get moved? Was it there?”

“Joan!” Jane growled, her hand clenching tightly around the cup she was holding. The sudden sharpness in her voice made the girl before her step back slightly. “Joan.” She smoothed out her tone, but remained as caring as Zira from The Lion King 2. “I saw it, yes. It was there.”

The momentary flash of fear and anxiety from getting yelled at disappeared from Joan’s eyes. She perks back up again, her feet now shuffling and tapping happily on the floor (her “Happy Feet”, as it's been dubbed by Maria).

“Oh! Great!” If she had a tail, it would definitely be wagging. Or if she were alone, she’d probably be frolicking around the room like a happy little lamb. “So? What did you think? Did you love it? I mean—like it? Did you like it?”

“It was nice,” Jane said, trying to swerve around Joan and her radiation of glee blocking the path to the door.

“Really?” Joan wanted more. She wanted more than just ‘nice.’ She needed more. “I’m really glad, Jane, because it was the first time I tried out watercolors and metallic paints together in one painting so I had no idea how it would turn out but it seemed to be good, right? I mean- obviously! You just said it was nice! B-but, umm-” She watched Jane walk for the door without really listening to her. She followed after her desperately. “S-so— Are you gonna hang it up?”

That’s what got Jane to stop. She turned to the girl impatiently fidgeting behind her and looked at her as if there were elephants parading out of her ears.

“Why would I do that?”

Up until that moment, Joan had been looking at Jane in a way that made it seem like there were swelling hearts in her eyes. But those hearts just broke with that single comment. Joan is left scrambling to pick up the pieces, but can barely catch anything, as all her hope also bleeds out through her fingers.

“B-because I...I made it. For you.” She said meekly.

“Fans make me stuff all the time but you don’t see me putting it on the fridge,” Jane chuckled, actually quite amused by the situation. “It was nice, Joan. And I appreciate it. No need to push it farther than that, because then it’ll just get weird. Like I’m worshiping a simple drawing or something.” She laughed again, then continued her stride out the door.

Joan was distraught, but as she watched the queen leave, her words fully sinking in, anger bubbled up inside of her. She grit her teeth, fingers clenching into fists. She could feel the ram horns poke uncomfortably against her forehead and slowly breach from her flesh, primed for blood.

“It’s not just some simple drawing, you—!!”

That’s all she could yell before Jane wheeled back around and stared at her from the hallway. Then, she enters once again and Joan backs up in fear, as if she were being stalked by a starving white tiger. She could almost see it in Jane’s face, but her teeth weren’t bared. Her lips were just set in a startling flat line that brought out the horror of the rest of her blank features.

“What? What?” Jane prodded. “I’m what?”

“Nothing...” Joan squeaked, hunching her shoulders in and lowering her head.

“I’m what, Joan?”

“Nothing!”

“A jerk? A prick? A bitch? A cunt? What am I, Joan?”

“Nothing! You’re nothing!” Joan cried. “I’m sorry!”

Jane had Joan cornered- literally. The girl was backed up in the far corner of the room near the window, which she glanced at for just a moment, as if she were considering jumping out of it to get away from the queen’s sterling wrath.

Jane calmly set down her cup of coffee on the nearby counter and laced her fingers together against her stomach. Her gaze was callous and cruel, offering absolutely no pity to the girl cowering beneath her uncaring stare.

“I’m going to explain this to you once, Joan, so you better listen because I will not tell it to you again.” She said. Her words are slithering slowly from her lips like venomous snakes, scaly and fanged. They bite Joan’s ears, pumping their poison into her brain no matter how hard she tried to combat them. “Nod if you understand that.”

Joan nodded shakily. She isn’t making eye contact, rather focusing her gaze on the floor and nothing else.

“I am not your mother figure.” Jane said bluntly, not even bothering to sugarcoat the comment. She was so tired of having Joan trying to force her way into her life. “You are not my daughter.”

With just those two simple sentences, it was as if Joan’s entire life just ended. It didn’t just come crashing down to her feet- it was over. She was nothing without her queen.

“B-but—”

“You are not my daughter.” Jane repeated coldly. “Do you understand me?”

This time, Joan doesn’t nod.

Jane narrowed her eyes dangerously.

“Nod, Joan.”

“Wh-what about—Kitty-”

“Don’t bring her up, Joan. This isn’t about her.” Jane warned lowly.

But Joan couldn’t stop the words that began to bubble up in her throat. Her voice comes out way too loud and way too shrill and way too desperate, but she can’t choke it back.

“Why? What does she have that I don’t? What did I do? What can I do to make you love me like that? Why her? What makes her so—”

The sound of a slap resonates through the room.

Joan was hit so hard she actually stumbled into the wall. She tentatively touches her stinging cheek, which burns upon contact, then looks up in fear at Jane, whose hand is slightly red from the force she had used.

There is no remorse present in the queen’s steel grey eyes.

“Do NOT speak of my daughter in that way again, you vile little pest!” Jane roared. Her old self, her fearsome queen self slips out in her words, and it chills Joan to the bone. “I will bring your guts into your mouth if you even THINK to do it again!”

It’s as if Jane was dehorning Joan- grabbing onto the ram horns with strong, clawed hands and twisting and twisting and twisting until they snapped off and are pulled out of her flesh with copious squirts of blood pouring free, leaving twin gaping red horrors open in her head.

“C-calm down!” Joan squeaked. “You’re scaring me!”

“And you WONDER why I don’t want to be your mother figure!” Jane went on, ignoring the plea. “I could list a hundred reasons right now and that still wouldn’t be enough to explain to you about how much I don’t want you as a daughter!” Joan doesn’t ask for any of them, but they’re still shoved down her throat anyway. “You’re clingy, you’re needy, you expect everyone to like you, you’re always tugging at my sleeve, you seem to think everything is about you, you act like a complete attention whore, to name a few! Why would I EVER want to be the mother to someone like you?”

“HEY!!”

It was like watching two big cats fight on a wildlife documentary- Anne seemed to come out of nowhere and charged her entire body into Jane’s, sending them both slamming into the back wall.

They tussle and squirm for a moment, snapping and hissing and clawing, and then Anne’s hand closed around Jane’s neck. Not enough to choke her, but enough to shove her head back up against the plaster and grind her skull into it.

“Anne, get off of me—”

“You bitch! You fucking bitch—”

“Get off—”

“You’re absolutely—”

“Stop—”

“What gives you the fucking right—”

“Let go—”

“You deserve to—”

Jane shoved Anne’s shoulders with both hands, causing the woman to totter backwards before she regained her footing. She almost lunged at the silver queen again, but somehow managed to tame herself enough to not pounce on her like a puma and gouge her eyes out, as much as she wanted to at that moment.

“You are SICK!” Anne yelled.

“You were about to strangle me!” Jane fired back.

“Yeah? Well, I wish I fucking did! Because God knows you deserved it!”

Anne paused her spray of fire to look at Joan, who was hunched against the wall, knees buckled and barely holding her up, tears streaming from her eyes, one hand cupping her swollen, red-purple cheek. Anne snapped her head back to Jane, bloodlust and rage blistering in her eyes.

“Did you fucking hit her?” She snarled.

“She was being a—”

“BULLSHIT!” Anne snapped, cutting Jane off. “That’s not what I fucking asked! Did you hit Joan?”

Jane just glared at Anne, as if she were an angry child that didn’t get the toy they wanted.

“Oh my god,” Anne half gasped, half laughed. “You absolute cunt! You really think that nobody else in this world matters, huh? Some ‘cast mother figure’ you are. It’s just you and that spoiled little weasel you keep on a harness!”

Despite loving Kitty to death, Anne couldn’t care about the comment she just made about her baby cousin because it was true.

Jane went to say something, went to somehow defend her actions, but Anne was talking again.

“I get it now! I finally understand!” She said. “You didn’t die of natural causes at all! You died from God striking you down because he KNEW what a horrible, cruel mother you would have been. He SAVED Edward from you!”

Finally, that’s what got Jane to crack. And, damn, it felt good to watch horror twist up her features.

“You really do have a heart of stone.” Anne spit.

She crossed over to Joan, who had been crying silently, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, helping her stand. The poor thing was shaking so badly.

“Come on, sweetie,” She whispered, her tone softening in an instant. “Let’s go.”

Joan staggered for a moment, nearly collapsing, but Anne managed to hold her up. She grappled onto the queen’s shirt and Anne could see that her cheek was definitely bruising.

“Oh, Joan…” Rage bubbles in her veins. She hears the girl whimper. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m not going to let her hurt you ever again.”

Anne casts a dark look at Jane.

Jane does nothing but stare forward blankly, lost in her own memories.

“Come on. Let’s go get something for your cheek.”

Joan didn’t resist. She let Anne guide her out of the room.

But not without Anne shooting out one last comment.

“Oh, and I’ll make sure to vote for you as Mother of The Year, Jane.”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #six fanfiction #six fic #sixfic #anne boleyn #jane seymour #nana boleyn #joan on the keys #katherine howard #take me out to the back of the shed

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galfridus1 · 6 years

Text

Happy Birthday Arthur!

It’s 17 August here and it’s Arthur’s birthday!! Many happy returns!

Here’s a fic, inspired by prompt from @thestarrynightgazer and with thanks to @maybeishouldwait for comments. This is part one of three/four depending on whether you count reblogs.

***

“It’s his birthday? Today?”

Zeldris looked at Gelda with absolute incredulity, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he griped as he shot out of bed, quickly rummaging in the wardrobe for something to wear. “Now I’ve got less than eight hours to find him a present.”

Gelda looked up at him, her face calm and serene as she propped herself up with a number of pillows. “I would have thought you’d remember,” she chastised, a slight smile curving the left side of her mouth. “How long have we been living together now? Time enough for you to know when Arthur’s birthday is. And besides it’s on the calendar…”

“Yes, yes alright!” Zeldris grumbled as he pulled on some clothes. “What’s happening anyway?”

Gelda looked at him, her violet eyes gleaming and Zeldris felt the breath catch in his throat. It was the one feature they shared, their eyes so like one another’s, their beauty causing him pause even after all these years. “You have no need to worry,” she chuckled, “I’ve sorted everything out. The party will be here. Arthur knows nothing about it but everyone else does, and I booked catering. The cake is a masterpiece.”

“How are you always so organised?” Zeldris muttered as he checked his reflection in the full-length mirror, running a hand through his hair to make sure the spikes were arranged in their proper place.

“It’s easy really,” Gelda replied, “You just have to pay attention and get stuff done. Which is what you should do now. I have suggestions for gifts if you’d like?”

Zeldris paused, his lips pressed together as he battled temptation. “No. I do this every year. I’m going to get him something myself this time.”

Gelda laughed, the tinkling sound reverberating through the air. “Well, good luck. Text me if you draw a blank.”

***

Four hours later Zeldris sincerely regretted telling his girlfriend that he did not need her help. He had scoured what felt like the whole of Oxford Street, trying and failing to find something Arthur might feasibly want as a gift. But it was all to no avail. The problem was Arthur had everything any twenty-five year old could possibly want, and if he got him alcohol again Gelda would no doubt raise her eyebrows, the expression saying ‘I told you so’ more clearly than any words could convey.

Still, a bottle of some random liquor was better than nothing. Turning abruptly, adroitly dodging the crowds swarming past in the opposite direction, Zeldris made his way back to the department store he had listlessly explored earlier that morning. The day was hot, the relentless August sun beating down on the shoppers who dragged their feet limply down the tarmaced street but Zeldris trudged on, wrinkling his nose in disgust as the odd smell of grease from the stalls dotting the sides of the road caused him to gag slightly. He just wanted the whole sorry experience to be over. Thank goodness Gelda’s birthday was not until April next year.

He was nearing the pretentious facade of Selfridges when a conversation caught his attention, the words somehow penetrating his consciousness above the hubbub of chatter. His eyes strayed to a small girl walking alongside her mother, clutching at a lead for dear life as an enthusiastic puppy pulled her forcefully along. The animal looked delighted, oblivious to the weather, and Zeldris was surprised to feel a twinge of longing piercing his chest. It looked so much fun, and of course Arthur had always wanted a dog.

Zeldris stood stock still, causing several passersby to bump into him forcefully. And why not? True, a dog was not ideal - they shed hair like nobody’s business and made their surroundings smell like mouldy old socks when wet - but the three of them were older now, and well off. They could easily afford to look after a pet, and it could always live outside in the garden. And as a gift it was at least original; Gelda could hardly complain that he had wimped out this time.

***

About half an hour later, Zeldris was standing in the reception of Battersea Dogs and Cats home, the only place he could think of in central London where one might find a canine at short notice. The walls were covered in pictures and leaflets showcasing the charity’s many success stories, sorry-looking mongrels, skeletal and with mangy fur, transformed into sleek, happy and well-beloved pets. He was just congratulating himself on his brilliant idea when the voice of the receptionist pulled him back to reality.

“You need to book an appointment for an interview about adopting a dog,” she gently explained as she tapped on her computer keyboard. “We have slots next week, but nothing available until then, I’m afraid.”

Zeldris felt his heart sink slightly. “Is there nothing sooner?” he asked cautiously. “I was really hoping to get one today.”

“Well that’s out for a start,” the woman said sharply, her eyes drilling into him as she turned away from her screen. “We are very careful here. We don’t let just anyone adopt a dog. There’s an initial interview, a home visit to check suitability, and then an observation when a suitable pet has been found. The whole process takes about a month.”

“A month?” Zeldris asked incredulously. “But… I mean…”

“If you’re after a specific dog, don’t worry, there’s always plenty, and sometimes the cute ones aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” the lady continued, her expression softening slightly. “We have dozens of Staffies and they’re great companions. People look down on them, but they’re wonderful. I have three myself.”

“It’s not that,” Zeldris said quickly, feeling an unwelcome heat flooding his cheeks. “It’s… well this is embarrassing. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday today and he’s always wanted a dog. I really wanted to surprise him.”

“Awww!” The noise that issued from the woman’s mouth was somewhere between a sigh and a swoon. “That’s so, so… romantic,” she gushed, and Zeldris felt the blush he was trying to manage spiral out of control. “But it doesn’t change things,” she added more gently, a sad smile on her face. “There’s no way you can adopt a dog as a surprise. Our team will need to talk to your boyfriend too.”

Zeldris was on the point of making a hasty exit when he caught a calculating look in the receptionist’s eyes. “But…” she began, her lips pursed in thought.

“Go on,” he encouraged, with some effort forcing his face to return to its normal countenance. “You have something in mind?”

“As it happens, yes,” the woman continued, the words accompanied by a vigorous nod. “You see, the team raided a kitten farm a few days ago. The poor things were being kept in such awful conditions and… well the upshot is we have far more cats than we know how to deal with. And a slot for an interview just opened up. If we have a cat that’s a match for your family then you can take it home with you today.”

“A cat?” Zeldris mulled over the idea and the more he thought about it the more pleased he became. They were by far superior animals in every way. They cleaned themselves, did not require walks, and had the added benefit that they would keep any pests at bay. Zeldris pictured himself sitting on the sofa, a dainty feline jumping up to him and laying its head in his lap. And Arthur did like cats. Maybe not as much as dogs but he did like them. Only last month he had been encouraging a stray to visit the garden, that is until the sorry-looking animal had given him fleas.

“Thank you, why not,” he finally said, returning the receptionist’s eager smile as the lady started tapping away at her computer once more.

***

No long after, Zeldris found himself being led up the stairs towards a room that smelled strongly of biscuits and bleach. The walls were lined on all sides with cages, perspex doors with holes in giving a glimpse into the almost identical habitats within. Each cat had bowls of food and water, a litter tray and a box to hide in, as well as a few toys scattered about on the white laminate surfaces. The occupants however could not have been more varied: the cats came in every colour imaginable; some ran up towards their doors, rubbing their heads against the plastic in greeting while others shied away, turning their backs.

The interview had been an informal affair consisting of a few questions about the household amenities and some quiz-like queries about the cost of vet care and insurance. Zeldris was glad he had read the blurb on the organisation’s website as he’d waited for his meeting with one of the Home’s volunteers to begin; the answers he’d needed were still fresh in his mind.

“Now let’s see…” the volunteer murmured as he leafed through the notes of interview, the papers rustling slightly in his fingers. “Three adults, all of you working long hours, and no children. I think we have just the cat for you.

“I have to warn you he’s lazy, which is good because he will basically do nothing to the house while you’re at work. But don’t expect him to be a good mouser,” the young man added as he led Zeldris to a cage in the corner of the room. Inside sat one of the fattest creatures Zeldris had ever seen; the white and ginger cat was at least as wide as it was long, if not wider, and sat at its empty food bowl with a mournful expression. It looked like a circle more than anything, or perhaps a stuffed cushion, though the colouring reminded him strongly of Arthur.

“His name is Cath, don’t ask me why,” the volunteer said as he gave the cat an affectionate look. “And as you can see he likes his food. We’ve put him on a diet since he’s arrived and he’s not been too happy about it. But I think some proper fuss will help him settle.”

Zeldris, regarding Cath with something approaching disgust, was on the point of asking if any other unwanted felines were possibly available when the volunteer opened the cage. Before Zeldris knew what was happening the cat had launched itself into his arms and started purring loudly, the vibrations reverberating through him as Cath fell asleep.

“He’s… not done that with anyone before,” the volunteer said incredulously. “He must really like you!”

“Probably just hungry,” Zeldris muttered under his breath but deep down he was secretly pleased. It was nice to be holding the cat, who was even heavier than he looked, in the knowledge that the feline was at least a bit choosy.

The young man retrieved a wad of papers stuck in a plastic folder next to the cage, his eyes flicking from side to side as they traced the words on the pages. “Cath has a clean bill of health, and he’s been fully vaccinated. He’s ready to go,” he said cheerfully as he gave Zeldris a wide smile. “He’s a well adjusted cat too. Nothing untoward in his past; his previous owners just couldn’t afford to feed him I think.”

Prising Cath out of his arms proved more difficult than expected but eventually, between them, two volunteers managed to wrestle the animal into a travel box. So it was that, loaded down with food, a litter tray and, of course, the enormous cat in a cage, Zeldris set off in a taxi heading for home. He imagined how pleased Arthur and Gelda would be even as the weight of the cat pressed into his lap.

It was only as he approached the terraced house the three of them shared that he noticed his phone, the lock screen flashing to show he had several missed calls and a veritable flurry of unread messages, most of them containing the words ‘where are you’ in capital letters. It was much later than he had thought, and the party would likely be starting soon, that is if it was not already underway.

In a rush, Zeldris paid the taxi driver and made his way as quickly as possible to the door of the house, hampered in his efforts by the amount of cargo he carried. He was met on the threshold by a furious Gelda. “Where have you been?” she hissed, her eyes smouldering into his own before she caught sight of the amount of stuff he was carrying, “And what is all this?”

“I got him a cat,” Zeldris said lamely, his voice sounding unsure even in his own ears. Gelda stared him with undisguised astonishment, before her face morphed into an enormous grin. In a second she was kneeling before the travel cage, cooing like an imbecile at the still-purring feline.

“That’s an amazing idea! You are completely forgiven,” Gelda said in rapture as she opened the cage, the huge cat launching into her arms in an instant. “Let’s go give it to him now. We’ve already done the reveal. He was surprised,” she added with a little reproach in her voice as she settled the cat more securely in her arms. “Where did you get it from?”

Zeldris felt slightly aggrieved as Gelda led the way towards the dining room, the cat still purring contentedly in her arms as she sashayed down the hall. “I got him from Battersea,” he grumbled as he followed behind, having deposited the various bags at the door. “And for your information it was a bit of a mission. I think I should be the one to give him to Arthur…”

“Surprise!” Gelda shouted as she flung open the door, revealing a large group of people all holding glasses. The mahogany dining table was groaning with food, an absolutely enormous cake standing proudly in the centre. It was shaped like a castle, iced walls and turrets rising up proud to form three tiers of confection topped with red and green flags. “It’s Castle Camelot,” Gelda whispered into his ear as Zeldris stared at it in amazement. “You know, because he’s Arthur Pendragon. Cost me a small fortune to commission but I think it’s worth it.”

The guests were just beginning to make suitable noises in response to the cat’s appearance when, without warning, it launched itself from Gelda’s arms. Zeldris watched in horror as Cath leapt onto the table and, without hesitation, nose-dived straight into the castle cake, knocking it into pieces in an instant.

The whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion. The tall turrets fell to the table, crumbling on impact, covering the pristine white tablecloth in icing and jam. The guests looked on with horror-stricken faces, mouths open in shock and eyes wide as saucers. The previously cheerful room was now silent as the grave save for the mewls of the cat, who was devouring the cake as if he had not eaten in weeks, small globules scattering from his whiskers into the mass of golden crumbs. Zeldris felt Gelda stiffen noticeably at his side, the soft sound of her breathing betraying her perturbation; it took a lot to upset her but once she was she cried easily. He dared not turn to look into her face, sure that she would be on the point of tears.

Amidst all the commotion, his eyes caught Arthur’s and he felt terrible on seeing his boyfriend’s face was a picture of desolation. Then, suddenly, Arthur began to laugh. First, his lip twisted, a faint chuckle bubbling up before the sound built and grew into an almighty guffaw. Arthur threw his head back, tears of mirth beading the corners of his eyes as he stared at the mess which had once been the most elaborate cake ever to be constructed. Arthur was of course quick to smile, but it had been a while since he had looked quite this happy.

With some relief, Zeldris felt the change in atmosphere trickle through the room as their friends caught the mood, smiles and laughter returning as they passed bottles of wine and spirits round to replenish their drinks. Glasses clinked and jokes passed as the guests quickly retrieved their phones to capture the sight of the ruined cake. It would no doubt be the star of social media before the hour was out, along with the feline who had caused the destruction.

With some trepidation, Zeldris slipped an arm around Gelda, unsurprised to feel her tremble in his grasp. He was relieved to find that she leant into his touch. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her as he held her close, both arms encircling her waist as Gelda pressed her face into his shoulder. “They did say he was on a diet but I never thought…”

“That. Was. Hilarious!” Arthur said heartily, moving round the table to join them. He had managed to scoop up the cream-covered cat before it moved on to the rest of the food, depositing dairy smears and crumbs all over his jacket in the process. With a slightly apologetic look, Arthur kissed Gelda tenderly, stroking her hair with his free hand and Zeldris felt her relax against him. It was nice, comforting, the effect only slightly marred as Arthur added with unbridled enthusiasm, “I love him! What’s his name?”

“Cath,” Zeldris confirmed as the now-stuffed animal rubbed its face into Arthur’s chest, continuing to purr as if it was some sort of drilling machine. “His name is Cath. And starting now he is not allowed in the dining room.”

#nnt #zelthurweekend #zeldris #gelda #arthur #cath #zelthur #zelthurda #fanfiction #happy birthday arthur!#domestic au

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b-o-s-t-o-n · 7 years

Text

Infatuated- Part XV

"If someday the moon calls you by your name, don't be surprised, because every night I tell her about you" -Shahrazad al-Khalij

Belle's fingers absent-mindedly tapped on the TV remote as she laid her back against an uncomfortable hospital pillow.

There was nothing to watch this early in the morning besides shows meant for little kids. Although she secretly liked watching the Disney Channel when she was home alone and couldn't sleep because of a rough case, Belle didn't want to have to explain herself if someone were to walk into her room, so she clicked the power button and turned the TV off.

She grabbed her phone from the bedside table and slid the unlock button. It had been on airplane mode since she had gotten to the hospital because she didn't want to be bothered by calls or texts from the team. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.

Belle went to the music app and pressed shuffle, unsure of what she wanted to listen to. Secret Love Song, Pt. II by Little Mix started playing. She scowled at her phone.

"Why can't I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor-"

Belle pulled the headphones out of her ears and shut her phone off. That was the last song she needed to be listening to right now.

Everything seemed to be annoying her lately, so she decided that she needed to get some fresh air. Belle carefully propped herself up in her bed and swung her legs over the side. She managed to stand up after a few tries and began to walk towards the empty visitor chair when she felt a tug at her arm followed by a sharp pain. She spun around and noticed the IV needle still sticking inside her inner arm.

"Oh god," she breathed as she squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the IV out of its place.

Belle took a tissue from the bedside table and blotted the small amount of blood up.

Her regular work clothes from her go-bag were in a small pile on the chair next to her bed, along with the snow boots she had asked Emily to grab from her apartment earlier that day. Belle shimmied out of her hospital gown and dressed herself in normal clothing. She looked at herself in the reflection of the metal on the door.

She looked like she had been drugged.

That's right, she had been drugged. But if she was going to make it out of here without getting in trouble, she had to make it look like she hadn't been drugged.

Belle made her way over to the small sink near the bed and splashed some cold water on her face. She pressed her thumb against the skin under her eyes, trying to make the dark purple circles disappear.

It didn't work.

She scanned the room, trying to think of something else to try. Belle opened the purse Emily had brought her. It had a phone charger and sunglasses in it. She slid the glasses over her eyes and headed for the door. It might be strange to wear sunglasses in the middle of winter, but at least doctors wouldn't question it.

"What do you mean by missing?" An angry Hotch barked at the nurse sitting behind the check in center at the hospital Belle was staying at.

Spencer surveyed the scene in front of him. Standing to the right of Hotch was JJ, Rossi, and Morgan, looking panic stricken. To the left of them was Emily, frantically dialing different numbers into her phone and frowning when no one picked up.

"What's going on?" Reid asked as he made his presence known.

Rossi shot him a flustered look before turning to Hotch and nodding for him to speak.

"Belle's gone," Hotch finally spoke.

"Gone?" Spencer asked, confused by his lack of detail.

"Gone," Hotch reiterated.

"What do you mean by gone?" Reid raised his voice. He turned to the others for some type of explanation. "What does he mean by gone?"

"Security footage shows her getting up and walking out of the hospital. And none of these morons decided to stop her," Morgan huffed.

The nurse behind the desk looked mortified.

"Sir, we weren't aware that Miss Hopkins had left until aft-"

"You've done enough already," JJ said, silencing her.

Reid liked it when JJ got mean.

He put his hands over his face and rubbed his temples. Belle hated hospitals, especially when she was the one being treated, but that doesn't mean she could just get up and leave before she was discharged. Spencer couldn't help but think this was partly his fault.

He wracked his brain trying to think of where she could have gone. He had an idea, so he took his phone out of his pocket and dialed for Garcia. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

"Hello boy wonder," Penelope's cheerful voice sang through the phone.

Clearly nobody had told her yet about Belle's whereabouts.

"Garcia, I need you to search for any pet shops within walking distance of the Quantico hospital," Spencer ordered into the phone.

"Sure thing, gimme one sec," she chimed as he heard her vigorously typing at her keyboard. "Let's see, how about a Pet Smart two blocks down the street? Sending you the directions now."

"Perfect," Reid hung the phone up and started for the elevator.

The rest of the team noticed his movements and followed behind.

"I knew she'd be here," Spencer said as he saw the long, brunette locks of hair that he knew belonged to Belle.

She was standing with a Pet Smart worker in the section of the store where they keep cats that are up for adoption. She held two orange kittens against her chest.

"You scared us, lil mama," Morgan laughed as they all shuffled into the room.

Belle turned around, nearly dropping the kittens. A pink hew took over her cheeks.

"I just wanted to snuggle with them. I was gonna come back," she defended, embarrassed by the attention she had accidentally caused.

"At least you're safe," Emily said as she walked over to Belle and engulfed her in a warm embrace.

Reid couldn't help but smile at the fact that she had gone through all this trouble just to see some cats.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw JJ smirking at him. He wiped the stupid grin off his face and mouthed 'what?' to her.

He knew what, though.

"Not now, Reid," Belle snapped as they made their way to the BAU jet.

This was the tenth time he'd asked her to talk in the past few days.

"I miss you," his words stung.

Belle knew she'd give in if she made eye contact with him, so she turned to climb the stairs onto the aircraft.

"I'm busy," she replied before boarding the plane.

She knew he'd drop it once they were in front of everyone else.

Belle plopped down on one of the couches in the back of the plane. The rest of the team sat around a table and began briefing for the current case they were working on. Belle was allowed to go with the team to the location, but she couldn't go out in the field. Her concussion wasn't fully healed yet, plus, she was still on probation for sneaking out of the hospital the week beforehand.

She tried her best not to scream out when Hotch announced that they were going to Boston. Finally, a case in her home city, and of course she had to sit it out.

"And before you ask, the answer is no, Belle. I can't risk you getting more hurt than you already are," Hotch said before she could even get her complaint in.

"But I'm fine!" Belle whined, knowing she was going to lose this fight.

She hated sitting around while everyone else got to catch the bad guys.

"Next time, kid," Rossi tried to ease her disappointment.

She sighed, defeated.

Belle took her laptop out and connected to the fancy FBI airplane wifi. The least she could do is get a head start on the case and compare notes with Penelope, since they'd both be the ones sitting back while everyone else was out risking their lives.

The jet took off shortly after she had taken her computer out. She sat back and reread the files she was given about the case. It seemed like a good one, which made her even more upset.

Before long, the familiar sound of the wheels hitting the runway rattled throughout the cabin. Belle packed her things up and got ready to exit the jet when she dropped her phone. JJ bent down to retrieve it before she could.

"What's this?" JJ asked as she looked down at the phone in her palm.

Belle froze as she noticed what she was talking about. She had a picture of Reid kissing her cheek with a funny snapchat filter on as her lock screen background.

"Uh... I-" Belle scrambled for something to say, feeling the heat rise to her face.

"Wanna explain this?" JJ turned to Reid, showing him what they had been looking at.

"Oh, that's, uh... that's, well..." Reid trailed off as his cheeks turned bright red.

Belle felt like she was gonna throw up.

"It's just a stupid picture. I was about to change it anyway," she interjected.

The look of hurt on Reid's face as Belle spoke sent a wave of anger throughout her. What did he expect her to say when she wasn't allowed to tell anyone about their relationship?

"Thanks," Belle murmured as she quickly grabbed the phone from JJ's hand and turned to leave the jet.

She needed to get out of this place.

She pushed her way past Hotch and Morgan, keeping her head down. She reached up to the overhead cupboards to get her winter coat. Belle wrapped the the light blue fabric around her body and braced herself for the cold. The lights around the plane turned on, indicating that they had stopped moving and it was safe to get off.

"Belle," she heard Reid call after her.

She shrugged it off and kept walking towards the exit.

"Belle!" He raised his voice.

She ignored it again, reaching for the door handle.

"I love you!"

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