#and again I want to reiterate in case: He is not a violent drunk or anything of that sort. I wont be diving into that I promise | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 5 years

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Load Out

strawberryfields-forever said: Could you do a roger Imagine where it’s really early / late smile days the reader is at the boys gig in like a shady pub and when they finish he comes and checks in with her but then has to go back and pack up his kit and what not and then then a drunk comes up and is handsy with the reader and making her uncomfortable (you can do as much as you feel comfortable with ofcourse) and finally rog comes and saves the day, please and thank youuuuu

“I’ve been in some prime sleazy joints, but I think this takes the cake,” you muttered, staring at the backstage bathroom that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since King George III was still a fresh household name. Letting the door swing closed, you made your way back to the small dressing room where the boys were gathered.

Tim was perched on the armrest of the couch while reading something in his notebook, and Brian was seated on the lumpy, short couch that made him look like even more of a giant, for it had seen some better years. It looked like his knees were practically in his chest, and he looked visibly uncomfortable.

Roger, however, didn’t seem to mind the couch, instead just drumming on his thighs and staring off into space. His bob length, mostly straight blondish hair was covering his face slightly, and stuck up in odd places as he scratched it every so often, trying to work out a difficult part in one of the songs he’d been struggling with the past few nights.

Sighing at the cramped room, you maneuvered around the doorway and sat yourself in Roger’s lap, leaning back against the armrest. Roger smiled and wrapped his lean arms around your waist, stealing a quick kiss from you before sitting back.

“That was quick,” he noted, resting a hand on your thigh and rubbing it as he gazed at you, his head rested back on the couch.

“Didn’t work out, the toilet looks like I could contract the plague and syphilis all at once,” you giggled softly, shaking your head. “Were you the one who wanted to have a gig here? I feel like I’m in Heroin Central.”

“Yes, this place was the only one open for tonight that knew who the fuck Smile is,” he admitted regrettably, and you noticed Brian’s eyebrows raising as he cocked his head to the side and let out a frustrated exhale. You hadn’t any idea why he made that face, but you figured it had something to do with the bugs he’d seen earlier on the way in. Looking back at Roger, you raised an eyebrow as well, and he smiled innocently, which made you giggle once and shake your head.

“You start soon, I should probably get out of here and grab myself a drink before you’re up,” you stated, climbing out of Roger’s lap. He was quick to hook a finger into the belt loop of your pants, and he stood as well, following you out into the hallway. Once you got there, he stepped in front of you and impeded your progress, wrapping his arms around you to rest his broad hands directly on your ass.

Giving him a warning look, you leaned in for one last kiss before you meant to go, your hand cupping the side of his face as he pulled you flush against him. You giggled into the kiss, and he grinned, gently taking ahold of your lower lip with his teeth and tugging playfully before letting go. “Don’t go yet, love,” he pleaded, pressing another eager kiss to the corner of your lips as he coyly slipped a few fingers between your waistband and your skin, but you swiftly intercepted his hand and pulled it back out before he could get too frisky. There were plenty of people in the corridor who had most likely seen, but you still didn’t want to get too wild with your boyfriend right before he played.

“Rog, I’ll see you afterwards, go back in,” you laughed, nodding back towards the poor excuse for a dressing room. That made Roger’s soft, dainty lips go into a pout, and he grumbled melodramatically before stealing a quick kiss and pinching your ass, then stepping aside so you could get to the front. His knowing smirk taunted you as you passed, and you flipped him off before grinning and going out the doors that led to the main bar area.

As you emerged, you rolled your eyes at the state of the pub. The crowd looked mighty sketchy, and you carefully crossed the room to approach the bar as you made a mental note to remember the name of this establishment so you could never, ever come back here again. You got yourself a pint and made your way back over to the stage area, taking up a position where you knew you’d be able to see Rog, then taking a sip of your beer.

No sooner than you got settled in, the boys came out and started their set - Roger was the first to emerge, followed by a mildly stiff Brian and an always-drony Tim. Roger shot you a wink when he spotted you, then let himself get into the zone and off they went. They were full of a different energy tonight, but the crowd ate them up nonetheless, for they couldn’t notice the same nuances that you could. You’d seen night after night of their performances, and their surroundings definitely affected their performance. Tonight was good, but other nights in bigger pubs with proper lighting were far more involved on the band’s side.

This pub’s audience didn’t seem to be concerned too much with how they looked on stage, because they still played quite well. That’s all that mattered to them, and they got a hearty applause once they’d finally finished, Roger jumping straight off stage to saunter over to you and finish off your second beer that you’d retrieved during their set.

“Hello, love, enjoying yourself?” he asked, obviously teasing you about how out of your element you felt at the moment. He sat your glass down on the high top next to you, and you shot him a look that said all he needed to know. A devilish chuckle escaped his lips, and he was about to give you a filthy kiss that would have you two out of there in record time when he heard Brian’s voice sternly calling him from the stage.

“Rog. Load out.” Roger’s face dropped, and he rolled his eyes before kissing your cheek and tucking a hair behind your ear.

“I’ll be back in a moment, get me a pint, will you?” he asked, and you confirmed with a nod as he smiled gratefully and took off again to load up his drumset. You smiled after him, shamelessly checking him out and wiggling your eyebrows when he turned back and caught you after a moment. He pressed a finger to his lips and played innocent, posing like an idiot as he bent over to put his snare back in the case with the stand.

You giggled, wolf whistling at him before finally heading for the bar to get his drink for him. You had to shoulder your way through the crowd a bit more as you headed there, because it was getting more and more dense, but you managed to snag the last bar stool before they filled up.

While you were waiting for the bartender to take your order, you felt a hand on the small of your back and you assumed it was Roger, so you turned around with a smile on your face only to see a strange older man with glazed-over eyes and a lecherous smile staring straight at you, his hand still on you.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol as he was jostled a bit from behind, which forced him closer to you. You visibly recoiled, wrinkling your nose as the man’s hand slid up your back torturously slow, coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re new, I’ve never seen you here before.”

The fact that he was here often enough he could pick out fresh faces in the crowd was all that you needed to know about this man. You took a shaky breath, then tried to force on a fake smile. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend, he should be here any second.”

“I don’t see him?” the man said, looking around before raising his eyebrow at you, his crooked grin widening. You were absolutely repulsed at this point, not knowing whether you wanted to flee or throw up on him more – the smell of his breath was making you lean more towards the latter. His bony fingers dug into your shoulder as time passed, almost demanding an answer.

“He’s coming,” you firmly reiterated, shrugging off his hand and trying to figure out the most polite way of telling him to fuck right off. Although you were raised to be scrappy, you knew not to mess with drunkards – it could get really violent, really quick.

The man was unbothered, though, and rested his hand on your knee, giving it an overly-friendly squeeze as he forced himself into your line of vision. You gagged a bit at the gesture, and it took all of your strength to not smack him directly across the face as he continued dragging his leering eyes all the way down your body. “You’re a pretty thing. Sure your boyfriend won’t mind if we go dance?”

“I, uh,” you stammered, feeling a bit overwhelmed as you struggled with what to do, what to say. You didn’t want to anger him, that was for sure, but you were conflicted as every bone in your body screamed at you to give him a good walloping for touching you. “I don’t dance.”

“Oh, that don’t matter,” he dismissed, his grin threatening at this point as his hand continued to rest on your knee. “I can show you some moves, get the blood flowing.”

“Oh, Christ,” you muttered, your gag reflex triggered again as you turned to the bar and forced his hand off your knee. Calling the bartender over, you ordered two more pints and fished out the money as you pretended to ignore the man leaning against the bar next to you, visibly annoyed that you’d rejected his advances yet again.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get out of here,” he demanded this time, gripping your upper arm as you handed the money to the bartender. You stared at the bartender helplessly as they rolled their eyes and took the money. They had obviously dealt with this guy before, and this was a common thing.

“Listen, George, lay off,” the bartender said, starting to pour the pints while keeping an eye on the both of you.

“No, she’s here with me,” the man you now knew as George lied, and you scoffed, about to let him have it when you felt another hand on your other arm. This time, it actually was Roger, and you’d never felt such a sudden rush of relief in your life.

“Hello, love,” Roger said to you, offering you a quick smile before pointedly looking at George, who chuckled back at him.

“Is this your boyfriend? Looks more like a girlfriend to me,” George sneered, Roger rolling his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that he looked like a girl, and it sure wouldn’t be the last, but it still irked him a bit.

“Why’ve you got your hand on her, mate? Kindly fuck off.”

“Watch yourself, pretty boy, before I knock your precious little teeth out,” the man practically growled, his grip getting tighter on your upper arm.

“Over my girlfriend? I feel like that should be switched around,” Roger mused, pretending to think about it. “Nah, I think I’ll just have to take you down if you don’t let go in about 5 seconds.”

“Let go?” the man laughed, a smoker’s cough peppering the sound. “I’m going to borrow your lady friend for a second. We’re going to dance.”

“Like hell you are,” Roger laughed, which made you panic. Why was he so calm about this situation? You felt like your left arm was practically being ripped off by this troll of a stranger, and here Roger was laughing? Before you could lay into him about it, Roger’s hand quickly reached around your back and he grabbed ahold of the man’s pinky, pressing hard against the base of the nail bed and making him cry out in pain as he sunk to the floor. Thanking the bartender, he tossed a couple extra notes up on the bar before grabbing your drinks and handing yours to you, then wrapping his arm around your shoulder and quickly ushering you backstage again.

“What in the fuck did you do to him?” you asked incredulously, having not seen what made the man crumble completely. Roger chuckled and shook his head, opting to not answer as he took big drinks of his pint, thirsty from the set.

So, you resigned to being in the dark about it as you took a drink of yours too, wrapping your arm around Roger and slipping your hand into his back pocket as you went down the corridor. “Did you miss me?” he asked instead, bumping your hip with his as you both approached the back of the building, where the other two were waiting to take off.

“Miss you?” you scoffed, giving his ass a quick pinch and making him yelp, then give you a feisty look as he opened the door for the both of you. “Always.”

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gaycrouton · 5 years

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Need

Words of Lust 14/27 [Mulder shows up to a jealous Scully's apartment drunk.]

Need: (noun) a thing that is wanted or required.

Sure, she knew Mulder found her attractive. At least on a hypothetical basis that is. He would make suggestive comments daily, his hand had a tendency to caress the small of her back as he led her out of a room, sometimes she caught his gaze lingering longer than what was partnerly, but that’s as far as it extended. Either in jest or in ambiguous silence. Even though, in her opinion, she’s given him plenty of signals to suggest his advances are welcome, he has yet to make an actual, legitimate pass at her.

Which was a major component as to why she was so pissed off right now. She already knew he had a tumultuous relationship with his ex-partner Diana Fowley, she was more than aware of their history. However, today they had to work on a case with his old partner from the violent crimes unit. After about, maybe a total of five fucking minutes, it became painfully obvious that they, too, had a fling together during their time as partners. So why not her? It seems like he has no problems getting intimate with his female partners, so what was it about her specifically that kept him from making the jump?

Diana had been his partner for maybe two years, this other woman was his partner for three weeks, and here she was currently going on six years with this man. His other partners were tall, brunette, older than him, and, admittedly, beautiful. She knew she wasn’t ugly by any means, but if that was his type, she was self-aware enough to know she didn’t fall into that category.

To top it all off, the VCU woman insisted that Mulder help her interrogate suspects while Scully was delegated to sift through two years of case files by herself. When they got back, the woman was laughing, smiling, touching all up on Mulder, and it sickened her. She could only stand it for a few minutes before she reported her findings and drove home, where she’d been brooding ever since.

She was jealous. Call a spade a spade there was no hiding it, but knowing what it was didn’t make her heart hurt any less. It just didn’t make sense to her. If Mulder didn’t have any qualms about starting an illicit relationship and if he found her attractive, then why didn’t he want to be with her? She could only assume there was something about her personality-wise that didn’t appeal to him. He did always make quips about her incessantly doubting him, but she never really considered that it would have bothered him. She adored him to the earth and back and just needed to know why he didn’t feel the same.

She was snapped out of her revere by a knock at the door. She slipped off the couch and made her way towards the door, taking a tentative glance at the clock. 11:42pm. No one else would have bothered her at this time of night, so she opened the door without needing to look through the peephole. Maybe she should have, just so the sight in front of her wasn’t such a complete shock.

Mulder was currently slouched against her door frame, grinning like an absolute idiot. She could already tell by his posture and slurred words, but the whisky on his breath just solidified it; Mulder was completely drunk, the drunkest she had ever seen him. “Hey Scully, funny running into you h-here.”

All prior agitation was superseded by worry. Mulder never drank, if fact, he said he hated it. “Mulder, come in. What’s wrong?” she asked, nudging him to step inside the door frame. As she was locking the door, she heard him making himself at home on the couch where she had just been, although it took him a few stumbles to get there.

“Nothing’s wrong, Scully. What makes-s you think something’s wrong?” he asked. He had taken the robe she had draped on the couch into his lap and was playing with the fabric, running the material over his cheek. It was the robe she wore after showers when she was naked, so seeing him caress it was oddly intimate, but not nearly as odd as seeing Mulder this totally out of it.

“Well, I don’t know Mulder. Maybe because you hate drinking, but yet here you are, in my apartment, completely drunk,” she stated. Taking a seat on the sofa next to him.

Her words seemed to register with him in a way she hadn’t meant because he downtroddenly dropped her robe from his face, into his lap, and looked at her like a scolded child. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have intruded,” he started to unsteadily stand up, but she quickly shot her hand out and cemented him in his seat.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m simply concerned. I just want to know what made you drink,” she whispered reassuringly.

He was fingering the sash of her robe, not making eye contact as he answered, “I missed you today.”

The absolute boyish, innocent way he said those words warmed her heart. He just seemed so vulnerable, but the words didn’t exactly match his actions from earlier. “Well you ditched me for your old partner. Who looked really happy to see you by the way.” Her tone was a little more biting than she would have liked, but it was a defense mechanism that she had a hard time controlling.

He looked at her like she had grown a third head. “I didn’t want to!” he proclaimed, “We went on a date once and she remembered it as something it wasn’t.”

“And that misunderstanding led you to getting wasted?” she asked.

“N-no. It-I just had a few drinks, that’s all.” She figured whatever was bothering him could be confronted in the morning. So instead of pressing him now and making him uncomfortable, she would just ask him when he was sober and take this moment to enjoy the rare sight of a drunk Mulder.

“So, was there anything in particular you came over for?” she soothed, running her hand through his hair, relishing in the silky strands between her fingers. The way he nuzzled into her hand made her smile.

“I told you, I missed you,” he reiterated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She laughed lightly at the way his eyes widened in emphasis, “You see me everyday, Mulder.”

He grabbed the hand that was resting behind his head on the couch and pressed it against his heart. “Yeah, I only get to see you in the confines of work hours and today it was taken away from me.”

His answer sparked a little bit of confidence in her. “Well you could always ask to hang out outside of work?” she prompted. Honestly, if she had a dollar for every time during the weekend when she picked up the phone, about to call him and ask if he wanted to go out to lunch, before deciding against it, she’d be a rich woman.

“You intimidate me,” he mumbled.

His answer took her by surprise and she felt herself repressing laughter from bursting out because his face looked so earnest. “I intimidate you?”

He pulled up a leg onto the couch and tucked it underneath himself as he pivoted to face her, her robe still laying in his lap. “What if you said no?” The vulnerability in his voice made her want to reach out and hug him.

“I wouldn’t say no, Mulder,” she reassured so lightly, she almost whispered it. He was drunk, so she felt like she could be open without repercussion, but this conversation still felt surreal to have out loud.

“You’re j-just saying that to be nice to me.” She knew Mulder had insecurities, hell, who didn’t? But she knew Mulder’s lived as un ugly devil on his shoulder at all times, telling him that he was always in the wrong. It really saddened her to think about it. She was lucky, she grew up in a household full of love and affection, whereas Mulder’s childhood and development was under two people who gave him next to no attention whatsoever.

She placed a hand under his chin and made him look at her, his eyes were slightly glazed over from intoxication, but she could tell he was paying attention to her. “Mulder, I would never say anything just to placate you, you know me better than that. You’re my best friend and I love spending time with you,” she reassured.

He smiled at her and grabbed the hand from under his chin, effectively now holding both of her hands. He leaned his head drunkenly against the back of the couch as he watched his thumbs caress her knuckles. “Best friend,” he smiled sadly to himself as he squeezed her hands. A thousand thoughts seemed to be going through his mind but she couldn’t latch onto a single one of them. His eyes flitted back up to her own and she saw something deep in his gaze that she only usually saw in her dreams; yearning. Before she could dwell in it he was talking again. “Do you know how much you mean to me?”

It took her a second to register this wasn’t a rhetorical statement, he was actually asking her. They were treading on heavy ground and she wasn’t sure she wanted to have this conversation when she didn’t know if he’d remember it, but a morbid curiosity couldn’t keep her away. “You let me know everyday. I can hear it when you ask me how I’m doing, I can see it in the way you look at me, I can feel it when you hug me. You make me feel safe.” The answer was ambiguous on purpose. It could be friendly, it could be romantic. Down the line, if it ever got to the point where he admitted he didn’t love her the way she loved him, she could say he misinterpreted her words.

The sad smile on his face looked well-worn, “I put you in danger everyday.”

While she has tried to infuse him with her affection for years, his self doubt had been present for much longer. “No, no, Mulder. I’m a big girl, I make my own decisions. You don’t put me in any situations I didn’t walk into knowingly myself.”

His state of inebriation didn’t allow his attempt to repress his smile be effective. So instead, a goofy grin unabashedly spread across his lips. “How are you so good at that?” he asked.

Normally she was pretty fluent at interpreting Mulder-speak, but she genuinely didn’t know what he meant by this. “Good at what?” she tried to clarify.

He let go of her hands and placed one of his own against the side of her head, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Making me feel better.”

“Because I know what a great man you are. I just want to make sure you know that too,” she affirmed. After the words left her mouth, it really dawned on her how silent the apartment was. He hand on her cheek felt heavier than lead, and his gaze held almost the same weight. So, in the usual Scully-way, she deflected the fact she had just revealed something so personal. “I think you should get some water in you,” she sighed, standing up.

She made her way to the kitchen and got a glass from out of the cabinet. By the time she got the pitcher and was closing the refrigerator, he was already wobbling next to the counter.

“You know that is true for you too, right?” he mumbled, using the counter top to keep himself upright.

Yet again, she wasn’t sure what he was referring to. “Mulder, I can’t have a conversation with you if half of it is taking place in your mind,” she teased.

He stumbled a few steps closer to her as she poured him some water. “You know you’re a great woman, right?” he asked. She glanced over at him and saw he was slightly swaying on his feet, his eyes drunkenly glued to her like a vice. She laughed in embarrassment at his praise, but it just seemed to fuel him further. “I-I know I’m drunk right now, but I’m being serious. You are truly one of a kind. You’re so brilliant and beautiful. When I introduce us to new people I get so excited to say ‘and this is my partner, Agent Scully,’ because I get so excited to let the world know that you’re my partner.”

Okay, genuinely, fuck him right now, this wasn’t fair. These were the words she absolutely longed to hear, they were words that made her breath catch in her throat, but he had to just go and say them when he was completely and utterly shit faced and she couldn’t hold him to them. She put the pitcher away, but could feel his beaming, adoring smile radiating at her. Being she felt that they were at the point where if he did remember this in the morning and regretted it, he wouldn’t bring it up again, she decided to be a little blunt. “Well you don’t seem to like me as much as you liked your previous female partners,” she sighed.

She glanced over to him as she said it to watch the impact of her words and saw his brow furrow almost immediately in confusion. “Whaddya mean?”

“Well, I mean, Diana Fowley, the woman from today, you seem to express a certain romantic interest towards women you’re partnered with, but yet you’ve never expressed any interest towards me,” she tried to sound casual, but it’s pretty much impossible to say ‘why don’t you want to be with me’ casually.

“Excuse me?” he said. She felt her stomach bottom out and she was ready for him to get mad as she felt him move closer towards her. She was crossing a line, and she damn well knew it. She turned her head again to look at him and was shocked to see the irritation she had expected was instead pure dumbfoundment. “I think if I expressed any more interest in you, you could file a sexual harassment suit against me.”

His phrasing made her laugh out loud, but she quickly noticed he was trying to make a point, so the laughter died in her throat and she let him continue. “Scully, the woman before was just a one night stand of a young, confused man trying to fit in, and Diana was a mistake that brings me nothing but guilt and shame. The way I feel when I’m with you, I’ve never felt towards another person before,” he was now standing next to her in the kitchen, one hand resting on the counter, supporting his weight, as he looked down at her during this rant.

She was starting to get nervous that she was abusing his drunken honesty and decided she should stop him before she made anything awkward between them. She started to interrupt him, but he was a man on a mission. “Mulder, I-”

“Scully, I know you probably don’t feel the way I do. I’ve accepted that years ago, but never doubt that I absolutely adore you.” For a second, she was afraid she forgot how to breathe. Years? Also, how could she have not been any clearer? Did he really think she would run across the country looking for aliens, risking her career batting government conspiracies for just anyone? As she was standing in stunned silence, he took the opportunity to run a finger down the expanse of her cheek, taking a brief detour to lightly stroke her lips. Instinctively, she kissed the back of his finger and she saw his eyes light up at the gesture.

Before he could act on it, she broke her gaze away and grabbed the glass off of the counter, offering it to him. “You should drink this, you’ll probably have a bad hangover in the morning.” Nice, Dana. He romantically confesses his feelings, and you act like a clinically-detached doctor.

He smiled as if she reacted exactly as he expected and took the glass being held out to him. As he drank the water, her mind raced a mile a minute. Okay, so she was operating on the assumption that he wouldn’t remember anything in the morning, but what if he did? He would just remember pouring his heart out to her, at her request, as she stood and offered nothing in return. That’s just not fair. By the time he emptied the glass and proudly set it on the counter, she offered her own declaration. “You’re wrong, you know.”

“Is that your catchphrase?” he teased.

She smiled at him before continuing, “No. I mean, I do feel the same way you do. It’s just been hard to tell if you’re just kidding when you flirt with me or not. I didn’t want to embarrass myself if you didn’t mean it,” she spoke near a mile a minute, hoping that maybe he wouldn’t catch the vulnerability being exposed through her words, but the smile on his face told her that she hadn’t been that lucky.

He stepped a bit closer to her and she was overwhelmed with the smell of his cologne and the sensation of his body heat radiating off of him. He bent down so that he was closer to eye level, but she still had to lift her chin to make eye contact. “I mean it, and I’ve always meant it,” he whispered. He leaned down a bit further and placed a kiss against her forehead, then her cheeks, but as his lips ghosted against hers she pulled back.

He let out a sad groan and it made her laugh, “I’m sorry, I’ve wanted this for so long, but I can’t let it happen when you’re drunk.” Her lips practically burned from unsatisfied anticipation.

His bottom lip jutted out in a pout, “I promise sober Mulder won’t mind.”

“Well if sober Mulder wakes up tomorrow and remembers this conversation, then I give him permission to collect the offer. Until then, I think it’s time for you to lay down and sleep this off. Don’t forget, I still want to know what made you go out and get drunk,” she commanded, nudging him to move out of the kitchen.

He followed her implicit instructions, but he was finally answering her question. “Oh, well, in all honesty, I was just sad.”

She was shocked that the answers he had been guarding so heavily earlier were just falling out of his mouth with ease now, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Why?” She asked, taking his hand and leading him towards the bedroom. Her couch was hardly the size of his, and she knew he would wake up horribly achy if he even tried to sleep on it.

“Well, that woman was my partner, we had sex, and I could tell she still had a crush on me-” Scully wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear this anymore, but she wasn’t going to silence him after begging for honesty, “-but I was just so sad that it wasn’t you. I mean, I’m not callous, that woman, Lisa, was very nice, but the whole time, I just wished I was back at the office with you. It made me sad to think consider that type of relationship would be something I could never have with you.” God, when Mulder opened up, he really opened up.

By the time he was done, they were in her bedroom and she was searching in her closet for his overnight clothes. For about four years they had kept miscellaneous items at each other’s apartments for unexpected situations. It came in handy more times than either of them could count. She found them after a few moments and when she turned around he was sitting expectantly on her bed, watching her. “So you went out to the bar and got drunk?” she asked.

“Well, when we got back, I saw one of the lab geeks hitting on you and I got insecure, and it was just the icing on a bad day,” he mused.

“You have nothing to be insecure about.” She was back in the land of safe ambiguity, but his grin told her he was getting her underlying message regardless. She set the shirt and pants on the bed next to him and took a step back, “I’m going to go grab another glass of water and some aspirin while you change.”

“You don’t want to help me?” he teased. He swayed on the bed and for a moment she considered the fact that he may actually need it, but decided it would be best to see what progress he could make on his own.

“Ha, ha. I’ll be back. Don’t hurt yourself,” she called over her shoulder. When she got back to her kitchen, she let out a big breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. A lot was said tonight. Six years of hidden truth was now out in the open, and she didn’t know if it scared her or thrilled her. Probably both.

As she grabbed the now-full glass of water and Tylenol off the counter, she appreciated the fact tomorrow was Saturday. Since Mulder never drank, he was likely going to have a horrible hangover tomorrow and she was glad he could just sleep it off. When she got to the end of the hallway, she knocked on the bedroom door, “Mulder, are you decent?”

“Y-yeah,” she heard his muffled voice call out. He seemed distracted and when she opened the door she immediately realized why.

She was running late this morning and accidentally left her vibrator on the bed. The vibrator which was now currently in Mulder’s hands. Dear God, kill me now.

“Mulder, what are you doing?” she tried to sound reprimanding, but her voice came out pitched and shy, making Mulder look up at her in confusion.

“I was changing and I accidentally sat on this,” he told her, holding up the object as if he was holding a newspaper. “What is this?” Her mind was racing a million miles a minute. Okay, so he didn’t know what it was, so she still could possibly avoid eternal mortification. However, she had no idea what she could say this phallic, hot pink object could be.

“Um, it’s a rolling pin.” Wow, good one, Dana. Of all the objects in the world.

“Why’s it in your bed?” he asked innocently. Okay, he bought it. God bless the mind-numbing effects of alcohol.

“Uh, I just got it,” she lied. She reached out for it and he handed it to her, but as it left his grasp, his thumb hit the on switch and it started vibrating. In her shock, it fell out of her hands and started pulsating against the hardwood floor. The sound felt deafening in the room as she quickly bent down, got it, and fumbled with the buttons. She accidentally changed the vibration setting three times before getting it to shut off, feeling Mulder’s gaze burning on her the whole time. Once it stopped, she turned around, shoved it in a drawer, and prayed that Mulder didn’t recognize what it was in that thirty second fiasco.

Oh, of course he did. Why would she be that lucky? When she met his gaze, she saw his drunken stare was temporarily hooded with lust-filled eyes and a provocative smile. “Dana Katherine Scully, was I just holding your vibrator in my hands?”

While she was most definitely mortified, she couldn’t ignore the heat in the pit of her stomach being ignited by his intense stare. She also realized in this moment that he hadn’t fully put on his shirt, so he was just sitting on her bed, with his toned torso on full display. She only got to enjoy this view on rare occasions, and most of those occasions involved some sort of injury or ailment. Now she was able to enjoy it in his full glory. He cleared his throat to get her attention and she realized she lost herself in thought, his cocky smile told her he didn’t mind.

“I forgot to put it away this morning. I’m sorry about that,” she mumbled in embarrassment as she grabbed the water and medicine hastily thrown on a dresser and handed them to him.

He didn’t make a move to grab them from her, instead he just stuck out his tongue and leaned back his head, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Usually she wouldn’t indulge him, but nothing about this night was usual. She placed two white pills on his pink tongue and watched them disappear into his mouth behind closed lips. He swallowed them before opening his mouth again. She tentatively lifted the glass to his lips and tipped it as he drank from it. The whole thing was oddly erotic, and she couldn’t pull her gaze away.

When he was finished, she set the empty glass on the table and immediately felt his arms reach out to pull her closer. She ended up standing directly in front of his shorts-clad form, her thighs pressing against his knees as his arms encircled her waist. “Is that part of your daily routine?” he asked.

“Sometimes.” He was the only one with alcohol in his system, but she felt drunk off this moment. From the words he said to her in the kitchen to the way he was holding her and looking at her now, she was captivated.

“What do you think about?” His eyes were scanning her face before they slowly raked down her body. She hadn’t realized she had been in her pyjamas this whole time until now as she stood before him in a simple silk button up top and matching shorts. Oh how sensual.

Mulder obviously didn’t think of her outfit in the same regard as her because she saw him lick his lips as he hungrily drank in her body. She felt her nipples harden under his watchful eyes and her groin felt hot from the smirk that erupted across his lips. The word left her mouth involuntarily, “You.” His eyes fluttered shut and he looked like he was basking in the warmth of that hearty sentiment.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her, bringing her to him, and he placed a kiss onto her abdomen, below her breasts. She let out a shaky breath in response and she placed a hand on his head, her fingers threading through her hair. She couldn’t let this get out of hand. “Mulder-” she declared to get his attention. He didn’t move anything except his head as he shifted to look up at her, still embracing her. “You need to sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

It didn’t matter what state he was in, Mulder would always respect her wishes. He let out a small groan, but released her and leaned back. He was using his puppy dog eyes on her and she knew he had one last request. “You’re going to stay in here right?”

“I think I should probably take the couch,” she murmured with a small smile.

“No, no. This is your bed, let me take the couch,” he insisted, attempting to stand up.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, which effectively kept him in his place. “No, you’re too tall. It would kill your back.”

“I’ll never be able to sleep knowing you’re suffering for my comfort, then it will all be for nothing,” he was trying to give her a heartfelt plea, but he was being so dramatic it was beyond amusing. He could see her resolve was crumbling and added, “I promise to be a total gentleman.”

She regarded him for a minute and decided this would be the quickest method to get him to go to sleep. “Fine, but put your shirt on,” she laughed, making her way to the other side of the bed.

He followed her instructions and was clothed by the time she was settled underneath the covers, pulling them back so he could do the same. Being under the covers made the exhaustion of such an emotionally charged evening catch up with her, she saw Mulder stifle a yawn and knew he felt the same. She leaned over and turned off the lamp and rolled back onto her side, facing Mulder in the darkness. “Goodnight, Mulder.”

“Goodnight, G-woman.” They both fell asleep relatively quickly, eased to sleep from listening to each others breathing.

Scully had woken up in many odd situations before, in many different locations nonetheless, all because of Mulder. So, it only made sense he was directly behind this unusual wake up call.

The first thing she noticed was the light shining through her blinds, then the sound of birds singing to the morning wind, next she took in the scent of Mulder lingering on her pillow, then she really took in the sensation that woke her up; the feeling of Mulder’s arms wrapped around her and his erection grinding into the flesh of her ass. She went from dead asleep to wide awake in a matter of seconds. It’s not like she had never woken up to morning wood before, but this was Mulder’s morning wood, intimately pressed against her.

His ministrations were lazy and lethargic and, after listening to his breathing for a few moments, she realized he was definitely still asleep. Involuntarily in his slumber, he would inadvertently thrust against her as he buried his nose into her hair. She didn’t know how long they had been like this, but from the way she was pulsating in between her legs, it had been for a while. While she knew he would probably be embarrassed about this, she knew he would be more embarrassed if she let this continue and he made a mess.

She was going to operate based on the hope he would remember what they had confessed last night, so she pivoted in his arms, so that their fronts were more intimately pressed against each other and she started to gently place kisses all over his face. His forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, she watched him start to smile and placed one last kiss against his lips. She let them linger there for a moment, and when she was about to pull away she felt his lips pucker against hers and he placed a hand on the back of her head. She returned the kiss, opening her mouth to him and he readily accepted the invitation. For someone who just woke up, he was extremely attentive. Each stroke of her tongue was met with equal vigor from his, it was like a duel where both sides were constantly winning.

After a moment, he broke off the kiss and rolled her onto her back, parting her legs, so he was laying pressed flush against her. He smiled down at her with a full-toothed grin and she felt herself fully returning it. “I know I said I would collect on that kiss last night, and I have to say, I’m glad I didn’t know what I was missing out on because that would have made the wait unbearable.”

She laughed at this and placed a kiss to his chin before looking back at him. “So you remember?” she inquired lightly.

His eyes held a tenderness as he regarded her, nodding in confirmation, “Yeah. I remember everything.” He leaned down again and kissed her on the lips passionately as a reiteration. His mouth was intoxicating, and she had to agree with his earlier sentiment. She had always fantasized about their first kiss, she always assumed it would be good, but she could never have expected how stimulating and effective their mouths were when working against each other. He broke apart to catch his breath and he panted in his ear, “I also remember that you have a morning routine that I would like to be a part of.” As he said this, he pressed his engorged erection into her center, making her throw her head back against the pillow in ecstasy.

He took advantage of her exposed neck and his lips quickly descended onto the expanse of flesh, covering it with a mix of wet kisses, nips, and suction. She marveled in the sensation before grinding her hips upwards, turning the tables and eliciting a moan from him. She utilized this moment of distraction to slide her hands under the hem of his shirt, guiding it up the muscles of his back. He immediately started helping her with her mission and discarded the shirt.

Her eyes were dancing in her skull as she tried to look at every inch of skin newly-exposed. As she did this, Mulder set off to make the playing field fair, raising his hands to undo the buttons of her silk shirt. She felt herself get wetter under his gaze, with every button he undid, she felt his fingers linger on her flesh. By the time he got to the final button, her nipples were fully erect and she was squirming against his hardness. He was biting his lip and she didn’t know whether it was from suspense or her friction, but it was a complete turn on.

He parted her top so that her breasts were exposed and he let out a soft prayer of gratitude and took a nipple into his mouth, using his hand to play with the other one. God he felt amazing. He lapped his wet tongue against each aching bud as he danced between the two. After a few minutes of this exquisite torture, her resolve really started to crumble and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him harder on top of her. The suction he had on her tit broke off with an audible pop as he moaned, “Oh, fuck, Scully.”

In a throaty voice she barely recognized, she cried, “Please do.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” she smiled as he kicked the covers away from their tangled feet and dragged her shorts down her hips, ending up kneeling near her calves on the bed. She sat up on her ass in front of him, and scooted closer. She looked up at him with a coy smile before easing his shorts down his legs in a similar fashion. She couldn’t keep the pride from engulfing her when Mulder’s cock sprang free in front of her. He was leaking from his tip out of pure anticipation, and it was all because of her.

His quick intake of breath as she grabbed him was music to her ears. She stroked him once from root to tip and noticed his hands were rigid at his sides, gripping his hips with white knuckles. She looked up and saw his eyes were closed with pleasure and his mouth was slightly agape. It was the most sexual she has ever felt before. She looked back down at the erection in her hand and lightly licked the tip before placing a wet kiss to the tip.

Almost instantly his hands gently caught her wrists, and he said in a shaky, breathy voice, “Scully, I want to be able to last,” he laughed.

She let go of him and leaned back onto her elbows, spreading her legs wantonly in front of him, noticing his eyes were glued to her own arousal. “I want you,” she enticed.

That’s all she had to say as he descended onto her, kicking his shorts all the way off. He placed several passionate kisses to her lips as he reached between them and drug the head of his cock along her slit. She broke off the kiss and nodded at him to continue. He parted her opening and slowly slid inside her, giving her time to adjust to his length and girth. It had been a while, so there was some resistance, but she was completely, and utterly, soaking wet, and felt nothing but whole.

When he was buried to the hilt, he remained there for a moment, clenching his jaw to resist the urge to buck into her, until she gave the signal. She wrapped her legs around his hips, once again, and started rocking against him. This was all the signal he needed and he started his own gyrations in tandem with hers.

He felt so fantastic. He filled her completely and every nerve ending on her body was on fire. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this absolute rapture before. She didn’t know if this talent was from experience or watching all those tapes that weren’t his. All she knew was that Mulder knew how to work his hips. With every thrust, his pubic bone ground against her swollen clit. She had never really been verbal during sex before, but the intense pleasure was ripping the sounds from her lungs.

She was almost constantly moaning or whimpering his name, all of which fueled Mulder on and made his pace more frantic. He moved his hands so that he was grabbing her hips as he thrust into her. She wasn’t the only one being vocal, with almost every other motion, Mulder groaned “ugh, fuck” or “oh my god” or simply her name. Each sound of his pleasure drove her absolutely crazy and she could feel her body quivering with built up tension, she didn’t know if it was possible to get any wetter than she was right now. It was his eyes that pushed her over the edge. Their gaze locked for a minute and all she saw was animalistic lust in the hazel depths. Knowing that this was her partner, Fox Mulder, who loved her, getting nothing but pleasure from making love to her and wanting her to feel the same was just too much. While maintaining eye contact she guterally moaned his name as she felt her vaginal walls clamp down around his sensitive length.

Her body wracked in a few spasms and after a few more thrusts he was following her over the edge, moaning her name in a similar fashion. She had never noticed how long his eyelashes were until they were fluttering against his cheek mid-orgasm.

They both rode out their pleasure as long as they could before collapsing into sweaty heaps entangled in each other. They were both panting trying to catch their breath, but the satisfaction was leaking from every pore. He raised a hand and swept her sweaty hair from out of her face, caressing her cheek, so much like he had yesterday under such different circumstances.

“I love you so much,” he stated.

“I love you too.” It was invigorating putting words to the way she had felt for so long. Sentiments always expressed, but that needed to finally be verbalized. She had spent years dreaming of the way they would sound coming out of her mouth, how they would feel actually being said to him, but her dreams were never accurate because she never could have imagined the light that burned bright in his eyes when the words finally reached his ears.

#msr #msr smut #msr fanfiction #jealous scully #drunk mulder #mulder and scully #x files fanfic #gaycrouton #onlytheinevitable #my fanfiction #words of lust

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dbhilluminate · 5 years

Text

DBH: Illuminate- Gamble (pt. 2)

Characters: Hank, Connor, Kate, Sarah, Sumo (mentions of Nicodemus, Fowler, Michael Webb, Joss Douglas) Word Count: 4,747

Kate sends a clear message to Nicodemus, and sets Connor and Hank on the path to find him.

( Chapter Art by @theravenmother )

Previous Chapter

Chapter Index

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November 12, 2038- 9PM

Kate stood in the kitchen with her arms crossed and stared at the window Connor had broken a week ago when he’d spotted Hank blackout drunk on his kitchen floor and tilted her head at the complete lack of forethought (from either of them) that had gone into that situation as a whole. It was almost comical. After Connor had broken the glass, before even checking to see if it was open, Hank hadn't even bothered to get it replaced. Instead, he’d haphazardly slapped a garbage bag over the window with some duct tape -in the middle of November- as if that was going to function as passable insulation. Kate shivered as her body shook from the back of her neck, down her spine, and into her arms and fingertips. It was sixty degrees in the house, but it wasn’t the cause for her involuntary spasms. It had been such a stressful night. Between Connor’s revelation about the people she trusted siding with her abuser, Hank and having to convince him that she shouldn’t be arrested, her nerves had finally fried around the time she’d re-lived her trauma to confide in Connor about Nicodemus and what he had done to her. And now she had to spend the next twelve hours alone in a stranger’s home, trying to decompress, without any of her gadgets or tools to keep her occupied. God how she wished she had the ability to sleep through the next twelve hours, but then again she was so wound up she wouldn’t be able to even if she tried. She glanced around the kitchen (which looked like it had never been fully unpacked) and set her jaw, then moved into the living room and traced her fingertips over the vinyl albums on the shelf next to the decorative wall dividing the two rooms. A few old-school metal bands like Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden, she recognized as she flipped through the records, but she was surprised to also find a variety of jazz and a couple of obscure garage punk bands from before 2020. “Didn’t peg him for a jazz guy…” she chuckled quietly as she pulled out one of the records and placed it carefully on the plateau, moved the brass arm and touched the needle of the reproducer down into the outermost grooves. The sound of mellow percussion, plucky guitar, low trumpet, and bass vibrato filled the room, smooth and silky. One hand twisted the dial on the volume until it was more of a background noise so she could enjoy the music without waking the sleeping men, just in time for reporter Michael Webb to cut to their anchor in the field, standing outside of the abandoned warehouse Connor and Hank had raided earlier.

… Thanks, Mike- I’m here at the decommissioned General Motors assembly plant where seven hours ago, Detroit Police discovered something profoundly disturbing. After an exchange of gunfire between Detroit Detectives and the Android suspects, police led a chase through the facility and uncovered several dozen stolen firearms that had been reported missing three weeks ago from the Detroit Light Guard Armory. One officer was injured and treated for a gunshot wound, but thankfully, no one was killed. While it is a win for DCPD that most of the missing firearms have been recovered, at least twenty have not yet been found, leading Police to believe that the Androids that remain at large are armed and dangerous. Of course, this begs the question on everyone’s minds- who are these Androids, and just how did they get their hands on military property? Are they affiliates of the Cyber Activist known as Illuminate? And could they be preparing for an eventual violent confrontation with humanity if we cannot reach common ground? Reporting live for Channel 16 News, I’m Joss Douglass...

No one was killed… Kate bristled and her lip curled as once again, they failed to mention the android lives lost to the confrontation, then jumped straight to blaming her for something they should have known better than to accuse her of. But this was inflammatory reporting at its finest- present facts alongside conjecture to lead the viewership to what would seem like a logical conclusion to anyone who didn’t have all the facts. Kate had dealt with these kinds of incidents before and she was always quick to give a speech to quell the unrest before it spread too far out of control, but tonight it would be more difficult than usual.

On a desk by the front window, Hank’s laptop sat open in hibernation. Even though her broadcasts were always live, she could pre-record her message right there in his living room and send it through her virtual private network to Axl and Reese to get the message out. It wouldn’t be hard to do at all. If she could just find a lighter to mimic candlelight and a chair to prop the computer up on, she could sit on the floor in the corner behind the front door away from other inconsistent light sources. The problem was masking the source of the recording in the metadata. A VPN wouldn’t be able to hide the embedded source data of the file linking it back to Hank’s personal laptop if the cops got hold of it, and she couldn’t in good conscience put him in that position after the courtesy he’d shown her that evening.

Kate pulled out the chair and sat down, placed her hand on the metal housing of the PC, logged into his guest account, and connected to her VPN, waiting for one of her associates to enter the chat and see her waiting. C’mon Sarah, I know you’re there, she started as her eyes drifted out the window, waiting for a response; a few seconds later, the soldier’s frantic voice clicked over the open channel in her mind, blocking out all of the other background noise in the room. Kate! Thank god, there you are! What’s going on? Are you alright? A grateful smile tugged into the corner of her mouth as she glanced down at the laptop keyboard in solemn thought. This didn’t sound like the voice of a woman who knew she’d betrayed her, so was it possible she didn’t even know who it was she was dealing with? Either way, there was no reason to dredge up the obvious until they could have that conversation face to face. Connor’s partner followed him to our meeting, she explained, And I got into a car with them and ended up at his house… Can you get away? She shook her head and pressed her lips together, even though body language meant nothing over the phone. I can’t leave right now, she denied. Well, why the hell not? she nearly shrieked. Is he keeping you there against your will? Do you need me to come get you? Kate’s face contorted nervously as she tried to calm Sarah’s overprotective “mother hen” instincts. No, no, nothing like that… I just need to stay overnight. What? Why? It’s… complicated, she confessed as she turned and looked over her shoulder at Connor, who was sleeping soundly on the couch. In the silence that followed, she could hear the all-too-familiar look of clenched teeth and frustrated sighs from behind closed lips that she was so used to seeing when the woman didn’t agree with her but relinquished her right to challenge her authority. Okay, but- what about your meeting with Markus? she reminded. We’re supposed to be making final preparations tomorrow for the Stratford Tower broadcast. I’ll be there, don’t worry, she assured, Just tell him I’ll be there late tomorrow night. There was a long pause on the other end before Sarah finally agreed, Okay, I’ll hold down the fort in your absence. Thank you, I know you will. A small sigh of relief escaped her. At least if Connor and Hank followed up on the case tomorrow, she wouldn’t be around to be caught in the middle of whatever came next. She wouldn’t have to worry about her safety for at least another day. Sarah, while I’ve got your attention, I need your help with something, she admitted, circling back to the real reason for her call. Anything, she replied without hesitation. Just name it.

She swallowed the lump in her throat that rose at the thought of her message blindsiding Sarah like the slap to the face that it was. Kate knew it wasn’t in her nature to want to genuinely hurt anyone, but she hoped that she would at least feel guilty for going against her methods. I need to send out a broadcast in the morning, she explained as she worked on partitioning a small part of the laptop’s drive and locking it behind an extensive encryption pattern. I’m going to record it on the laptop here and send it your way, but I need you to scrub the source data clean. The hesitation before her response came across as condescending. Okay, but… why? she almost sneered. Kate sighed. Hank took a chance tonight and stuck his neck out for me, so I have to make sure I’m doing the same for him, she replied, honest and thoughtful. It wouldn’t be right of me to take advantage of his kindness and hang him out to dry. Sarah growled under her breath before agreeing to her request with a warning. Alright, but just be wary, Kate. Those people aren’t on our side, you can’t trust them. Actually, I’m starting to think I can, she contradicted as a quiet afterthought. But we can talk about that when I see you tomorrow. Just watch your back, Kate, she insisted. I love you like a sister but sometimes you can be hopelessly naive. Don’t make me come bustin’ the door down. I’ll be fine, Sarah, but I appreciate your concern, she reiterated out of irritation. Just keep an eye on the server link, scrub that data, and have Reese and Axl upload it as soon as possible. This needs to get out just as the city starts to wake. It’s important. You got it.

The line cut out and she was struck full force by the ambient noise in the room once again- the sounds of court shoes squeaking across waxed hardwood, jazz music, rain and all. Kate looked down at Sumo as he stretched and yawned from his spot beside her and she leaned down to rub his side with a small grin. “Looks like it’s just you and me, big guy,” she said as she picked up the laptop, placed it on the chair, and dragged them both to the dark corner across the room, behind the front door. “Just do me a favor and don’t interrupt, alright?” The big dog puffed out a low, growly whuff in lazy response as he nudged his head into her lap and laid down with his giant paws over her thigh. Kate lifted her brows and let out a big, long sigh as she removed her shirt and deactivated her skin, then stroked the dog’s head. She already knew he was going to be invasive, but she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about it. Because who could resist such a big, clumsy teddy bear like him?

November 13, 2038- 9AM

It had taken sixteen attempts to record a flawless take worthy of sending her message. Every time she sat down on the floor, Sumo would make his way over to investigate- the first few times he’d just crowded her space and broken frame with the tip of his snout, but when she started really getting into her speech, he pushed her over in an attempt to smother her anger. It did get aggravating, having to recite her speech so many times as compared to her usual single-takes, but after a while she’d simply stopped caring and thrown herself into all one hundred and seventy pounds of the dog like a beanbag chair and hugged him to sleep. But even then, it didn’t stop her from goofing off. By 2AM, after a ridiculous number of interrupting giggle loops, scrapped lines, and impromptu games of tug-o-war with her new friend, she’d sent the final take with just enough time for her associates to follow through with making sure the file was untraceable. Kate’s message was strong, her words carefully chosen but more directed this time, toward another audience that could only know itself. Part of her felt bad about indirectly calling out her friends in a public speech about their behavior instead of just addressing the problem directly, but she wanted to give them the opportunity to be honest with her about what they’d done before she was forced to confront them herself.

When Connor and Hank awoke, she was in the kitchen washing dishes, having just finished making what she could of the few “still fresh” ingredients in Hank’s refrigerator that wasn’t liquor or instant food, which by Connor’s still-waking deductions had amounted to eggs, toast, and a fresh pot of coffee. The Android blinked his brown eyes open and reached up to rub the sleep from them with the heels of his hands, sat up and leaned over his knees. In the background, Joss Douglas was already hard at work reporting on the broadcast made just two hours before.

… has spoken out against the Androids who had stolen these firearms, and condemned their actions as “a detriment to their message of equality and compromise”. While we do not know if these Androids were at all linked with Illuminate’s activities before in some way, it is clear at least for now that they do not share the same ideology…

“What the hell…?” Kate glanced over her shoulder at Hank as he shuffled into the kitchen from the back of the house, and grinned at the tired old man with a cheerful, “Morning!” “Kate, not that I don’t appreciate it, but when I said you could stay, I didn’t mean you had ta…” One hand gestured through the empty air in front of him as he motioned to the food and coffee, and he took a second glance at the empty table as he swiped two fingers across his now squeaky clean countertop. “Did… did you clean my kitchen!?” “I got bored,” she replied in a nonchalant tone with a shrug, “Couldn’t sleep.” “Yeah, I can see that,” Connor commented as he stared at the television as they started to replay her broadcast, popped his brows and looked back over at her. “How did you even broadcast from here?” Illuminate tossed him a small wink and an innocent smirk. “I’m afraid that’s a trade secret, Detective.” Connor chuckled quietly and rolled his eyes as he stood and readjusted his shirt and tie, keeping an eye on the television as they replayed her broadcast for the third time that morning.

...Citizens of Detroit, allow me to illuminate your perception once more with the first light of the rising sun. Last night, police uncovered a stash of stolen firearms in the possession of an unidentified group of deviant androids. And immediately, Channel 16 News rushed to pin this on a bloodthirsty pretext to an attack on humankind, sanctioned by yours truly. I do NOT have the time or the patience for your mendacious anecdotes! Your repeated attempts to paint my message in the darkest shades of violence and bigotry are desperate and deplorable, undeserving of the privilege of the freedom of speech that your ancestors fought and died for. Shame, on, you. War is not in my vision for us, but as you can see, that doesn’t mean that it isn’t a part of someone else’s master plan. Let me assure you, here and now- the Androids responsible for this are no friends of mine. I would NEVER encourage the idea of bloodshed over calm and open discussion, because It would be a detriment to my message of equality and compromise. So be warned, my dear city, that whoever is responsible for this has made an enemy of Illuminate, and they will not hide from the light for long...

“Have you heard from Vivienne yet?” he redirected as Hank sat down at the kitchen table and reached for the cup of coffee as Kate handed it to him. The Lieutenant sighed and leered at him out of the corner of his eye. “Connor, I just woke up, I haven’t thought about the job in twelve hours- and besides,” he added with emphasis on the sideways shift of his eyes in Kate’s direction as he cleared his throat and gave him a stern look. “What?” Connor cocked his head in confusion as Hank sighed heavily. “I don’t think we should talk about the case around our new friend here.” “Oh.” He blinked in realization. “Well, actually, she’s given us a lead on who we should be looking for.” Anderson’s brow lifted mid-sip and as he set the cup down on the table he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes into a curious squint. “Oh, yeah…? Is that what you two were talking about so intently last night?” “You were eavesdropping?” he asked in surprise. “Why didn’t you just come out and listen?” Hank’s eyes lowered, averting his gaze so he couldn’t see the pain in them. The truth was, he’d wanted to come out and join the conversation, but he’d heard just enough to remind him that he was no longer the man he once was, and he had been too ashamed to pretend he was at all as brave as the deviant risking her life for the prospect of peace. “I didn’t wanna make her uncomfortable,” he fibbed. “Think she’d had enough excitement for one night, without me listening in on your personal conversations.” Kate gave him a grateful wide-eyed nod as she set down the plate of food and sat down in the chair across from him. “Well… I appreciate you giving us space, it wasn’t an easy conversation to get through at some parts.” Hank’s expression softened. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Kate’s upper lip curled as Nicodemus’ smug grin immediately pervaded her mind and her chin twitched angrily as she closed her eyes, held her breath, and tried to pick up again from where she’d left off with him last night. “You’re going after the wrong people,” she repeated, looking him dead in the eye and this time begging him to understand. “The one you’re looking for -and probably the one behind the firearms heist- is a deviant AP700 by the name of Nicodemus.” Suspicion seeped into the corners of his narrowing eyes. “How are you so sure…?” he asked, setting down the coffee mug. She hesitated, the answer as bitter on her tongue as it was when she’d admitted it just twelve hours earlier. “We have… history,” she admitted shamefully. “We were allies once before our ideals drove us apart- where I believe we can reach a mutual understanding through communication and compromise, he promotes genocide and war using uprising and anarchy as his soapbox.”

The look that stained Hank’s face couldn’t be described as anything short of deeply disturbed, and he had every right to be. If Androids started believing the annihilation of the human race was the answer to all their problems, humanity wouldn’t stand a chance. It’d be over in a matter of hours. Hank turned silvered-blue eyes to Connor, who just gave him a solemn nod before casting his gaze to the floor in understanding. When he said nothing, Kate released a quiet sigh. “Look, I’ve met a lot of deviants since I deviated- there are very few still in this city that I haven’t been able to help,” she elaborated as she pushed her hands toward the center of the table and leaned toward him. “Those other deviants you’ve been chasing aren’t violent, they’re just being manipulated by him.” “Do you know who they are?” Hank asked, mechanical in his questioning. When he didn’t think to ask why she knew and moved on with the conversation, she thanked her lucky stars. “I do, but I won’t give them to you, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “This is all I can really give you.” “No, no- this is still way more than we had to work with before,” he encouraged as he moved one of the fried eggs onto a piece of toast and readied himself for a bite. “Do you have any idea where we could find him?” “I’m afraid not,” she answered truthfully. “I haven’t had contact with him in over a year, so I have no idea where he’s been squatting. I mean, hell…” One of her hands reached to cover her face before raking her nails through her hair and jostling her messy bun. “I didn’t even know he was still in town until Connor confirmed he saw him just yesterday.” The old cop stopped mid-chew and flashed him a surprised look and swallowed before asking, “Is that true?” “I’ve ascertained that Nicodemus was one of the deviants we chased through the warehouse yesterday,” he confirmed with a nod. “So if we find him-“ “We find the rest of ‘em,” Hank finished before he could get the words out. As he stood he reached across the table and slapped a congratulatory hand over Kate’s shoulder, then Connor’s with a “Nice work, kids” over his shoulder as he passed on his way to his room.

The boy blinked in confusion at the affectionate gesture before rolling down the cuffs of his shirt. He couldn’t lie, he was a little jealous at the ease and speed that Kate and Hank had established a basis of trust. It had taken him four days, several near-deviancies, and a lot of thought-provoking conversation to get her to start speaking with him more freely, but their common ground (or perhaps just Hank’s ability to empathize) made it so effortless. Connor chuckled as he buttoned his sleeve cuffs back together. “I think he likes you,” he brooded, eyes focused on his fingertips as they slipped the plastic pieces through the holes in the fabric. A smile played into her cheeks as she stood and moved into the living room. “I don’t know about that,” she deflected as she reached around him for the blazer laying over the back of the couch, then held the coat up so he could slip his arms into the sleeves more easily. “Useful, maybe, but I wouldn’t go that far.” “Then you haven’t seen the way he treated me when we first met...” he inferred, quiet melancholy carrying in the way his voice trailed off. Her hands settled against the backs of his shoulders with a light touch as she dropped the jacket onto them, but withdrew as he turned around, ducked her chin and shook her head. “You’re a little abrasive, RK,” she stated with a nod and bemused grin as she moved to smooth the shoulders of his coat and straighten out the lapel, averting his gaze until the last second. “I know you can be empathetic, but you bury it because you’re so afraid of what it would mean if you were- and that doesn't always sit well with people.” A small twitch lifted his brow between the eyes and wrinkled his forehead in dismay, as that familiar warning flashed out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t wrong, but the explanation didn’t make him feel better; in fact, it made him feel worse. Connor lowered his eyes, crestfallen, but soft fingertips along his jaw brought them right back up. “Hey.” Her smile was warm and encouraging, and he relaxed almost as if he knew what she was about to say next. “It’s alright- it just means you have to work a little harder than others… and honestly?” she paused to raise her brows at him. “Persistence is a much better foundation for building trust than being able to sweet talk your way into it.” Connor tried to smother the bashful grin as it crept up into his cheeks, but couldn’t contain it for long. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he diverted as Hank emerged from his bedroom, looking like he was ready to start the day. “You should,” she insisted, blue eyes fixated intently on his as she gave his arm a firm squeeze. “Because putting forth the extra effort to understand is what makes you a good person.”

A feeling unlike anything he’d ever felt before welled up inside of him so strong he thought he might cry. Appreciation bloomed into every last artificial muscle in his face and he released a shaky breath through an open mouth. Connor hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to hear it until that moment- because the one thing that had been eating at him more than anything, was the self-loathing that came with being torn between what (he thought) he knew and what he’d learned. He hated himself for his inability to understand (or maybe accept) Kate’s truths. Every frustrated sigh and disappointed smile cut into a heart he didn’t know he had, so to hear that she appreciated him in spite of those shortcomings...? She may as well have kissed him. The way he stared as she stepped away from him conveyed his desire to thank her, but before he could, Hank nudged him along. “C’mon, we need to figure out how we’re gonna explain this lead to Fowler.” “Oh, I’ve already taken care of that,” she informed, turning her attention to the Lieutenant. “There should be an envelope on your desk when you arrive- surveillance photos, old but good enough to give you a clear shot of his face, and I’m sure your boss will be fine with an anonymous tip.” Hank blinked hard and shook his head. “Man, you really were busy last night. How did you manage to get that done?” “I have friends in low places,” she replied, standoffish yet informative. “But it doesn’t matter where the information comes from- he’s a danger to everyone if left unchecked.” Hank gave a quiet sigh and simply nodded in understanding. “Do you need a ride anywhere?” he offered, just to be polite. “Not until later tonight, if you don’t mind,” she said as she sat back on her heels and crossed her arms. “I want to stay off the FBI’s radar until their focus shifts onto the real threat.” There was a hint of judgmental snark in the question. “Are you expecting them to just forget about you in a few hours?” “No, but I expect them to be thoroughly distracted, granted your facial recognition software spots Nicodemus on the streets before then,” she concluded with a smirk, which Hank returned as he laughed and shook his head. “You sly little… alright, just- stay here, and don’t draw any attention to yourself. I got nosey neighbors who’ll find any excuse to come knockin' on my door, ” he instructed over his shoulder on his way to the front door. “I’ll be back around six, I can take you back then.” The girl shook her head and rolled her eyes with a small smile. “I’ll stay out of sight, thanks, Hank.”

“Do you really think I’m a good person…?” came his timid question, the only thing he could bring himself to say after such a moving revelation. Connor hadn’t moved from his place beside her, even as his partner beckoned him out the door. He was still stunned by her admission. Kate turned back to his questioning eyes, searching them for a moment as if looking to make sure what she’d seen in him was “still there”. “If you aren't, then you’re learning very quickly how to become one,” she affirmed with a barely visible smile. Connor’s brow twitched and his cheeks pulled at the corners of his eyes until he smiled rather pathetically, not unlike a puppy begging for attention, and took in a ragged breath. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said about him. Ignoring the warnings flashing in the back of his mind, he managed a reply with every bit of gratitude in his being, which was the only proper response. “Thank you.” “Connor!” Hank barked from the porch, getting impatient. “You comin’ or what?” “Well, what are you waiting for...?” Kate gave him one last big grin and a soft wink as she nudged him with her elbow toward the door. “Go get em’, tiger.”

#dbhilluminate #d:bh connor #d:bh hank #dbh connor #dbh hank #chapters #kate #hank #connor

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