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kinglazrus · 2 years

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In Case of Emergency

Chapter 6: The Truth, Nearly

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Chapter Summary: Lancer learns something he wishes he hadn't.

Chapter word count: 2071

—

Danny once again finds himself waking up in unfamiliar circumstances. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is the corner of a house through the passenger window. Off-white stucco walls, a mauve garage door—really, who picks mauve for that—and the edge of a brown shingle roof. Shit, he thinks a second later. I fell asleep again. He starts raising his left arm but has to stop when he feels a tug on his stitches. Switching arms, he lifts his hand. The comforting white of his gloves meets his eyes.

"Oh, thank Clockwork," he mutters.

"What's clockwork?

Danny startles. He hadn't noticed Lancer sitting beside him, although he should have expected it. He assumes that they only just arrived at Lancer's house, but when he looks over, he notices that Lancer is flipping through an essay, red pen in hand. There's a small stack on the console already covered in red ink.

"Have we just been sitting in the car while you grade papers?" Danny asks. He pushes himself up on one elbow and strains his neck, trying to catch the name on the essay currently in Lancer's hands.

"I have just been sitting in the car. You've been asleep for almost an hour." Lancer picks his phone up from the cupholder and shows Danny. According to the phone, it's past seven o'clock. Which means Danny has been AWOL for hours now.

When was the last time he messaged Sam or Tucker? Or Jazz? Danny winces. Hopefully, they aren't freaking out right now. It's not like he hasn't gone long periods without talking to any of them before, but he has gotten into the habit of texting them after his fights, so they know he's okay. With any luck, they won't know he got into a fight, and they won't be worried about him. Danny rubs the sleep from his eyes and drags a hand through his hair. What a day.

"So, what's a clockwork? I'm assuming that you weren't thanking the very idea of a clock's internal mechanisms just now, but I don't know much about ghost curses." Lancer lowers the essay to his lap and stares out the window, a distant look in his eyes. "Do ghosts have a language? I'd love to study it."

Right. English teacher.

"Clockwork is a ghost. He's a really powerful one. He hates it when I use his name like that." Danny grins, hoping Clockwork is watching that very moment and huffing in his little tower about disrespectful wards. Danny is a very disrespectful ward, thank you very much, and he takes pride in that. Since the Observants want to make him out to be a problem, he may as well be one. "But yeah. About the language. Ghosts do have one. It doesn't translate well to English, though. It doesn't use words the same way human languages do."

"It doesn't?" Lancer taps his pen on the essay, leaving little red dots all over it. "How does it work?"

That's an excellent question. Danny sucks on his lip while he thinks of how to explain this. "Uh, well, all ghosts have a core and an aura, right? They're unique to every ghost, like fingerprints. That part doesn't have anything to do with the language, though. If you're near another ghost, you can sort of feel their core and see their aura well. Changes in those are how we can communicate. Obviously, we can talk, too, but when you come across inhuman ghosts, that's how you have to speak to them."

"Fascinating. How does a core 'speak'?"

"Oh, it doesn't. Cores are like—they don't change on purpose, okay? If you're hurt, angry, or happy, a ghost's core will reflect that. And then we can use our auras to be more specific. Like, um... Like this." Danny's aura grows brighter, then dims everywhere but around his shoulder. The light fluctuates rapidly, rippling over the limb, then goes dim. He does it twice so Lancer can get a good look.

Lancer reaches out, holding his hand above Danny's aura. "And what did you just say?"

"That my shoulder hurts. It's a general statement; being specific is hard."

"Is it inborn? If cores and auras are a part of you like any physical trait, then I could see how new ghosts would have to learn the language the same as any child. But, you also function so differently from us."

Danny squirms in his seat. "I don't know."

It wasn't inborn for him. For other ghosts, maybe. But halfas? They have to learn. Everything he knows about being a ghost he picked up from watching others, picking apart what came naturally to them until he found out how he could do it, too.

"Maybe we should go inside."

"Oh, you're right." Lancer flips the essay closed and stretches to the backseat, grabbing the rest of his work. "I wasn't sure if I could move you and I didn't want to wake you up. Do you need any help?"

Danny floats off the seat and through the car, taking care not to twist or bend too much. "I'm good."

Lancer's house is nice. Normal. Floating through the doorway is still surreal, though. He's in a teacher's house. He is in Lancer's house. Inside, it's exactly how Danny expected it to be: covered in books. As Lancer guides him down the hall, Danny peers into each room they pass. A bookcase in the dining room. A shelf of cookbooks in the kitchen. Danny only catches a peek of Lancer's bedroom, but he swears he sees books stacked on the floor.

Jazz would have a fit if she ever saw that.

They end up in Lancer's office, which has more books, a desk, and a plush-looking couch.

"You can rest there." Lancer points to the couch. "It's more comfortable than the one in the living room. Feel free to look at any of the books or do whatever ghosts do to waste time. I'll just be working."

Danny nods, floating over to the couch and settling in. Just as he thought. This is the most comfortable couch he has ever lain on. Danny deserves this after being on that hard metal table for so long. He can't stretch out, thanks to his bruises, but he can still get comfortable. Danny closes his eyes. He can show his friends and Jazz that he's fine later tonight, once Lancer goes to sleep and he can slip away unnoticed. Until then, he might as well take advantage and get a proper nap in.

—

William occasionally glances up from his work to check on Phantom. When Dr. Alejo first told William what his job was today, he can honestly say he was concerned. Ghosts are already dead. They can't die again. So, what exactly is William watching out for? Unless ghosts can die again, and that in itself is a horrifying thought. Dying once is enough. The possibility of dying twice sounds horrible.

Phantom sleeps soundly for a few hours, long enough for William to finish his grading. He is on the final essay when Phantom blinks his eyes open. He starts to stretch, halting suddenly with a noise not unlike a whine, and hugs himself. William sets his pen down, loud enough to draw Phantom's attention, and raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

"Numbing cream wore off," Phantom mutters.

William nods. Instead of going back to the essay, he watches Phantom stretch again; this time, he takes care not to go too far. His mouth opens wide as he yawns, exposing a set of fangs William hadn't noticed before. Once Phantom is stretched and alert, he pulls himself into a proper sitting position.

"Still grading?" Phantom nods toward the paper on William's desk.

"Nearly done. This is the last one."

"That's a big red pen." Phantom eyes the marker laying on top of the essay. "Who's the sucker?"

"This is my favourite student, actually."

Oh, yeah? What's their name?"

"I think you'll like this. His name is Danny, too. Danny Fenton." William expects a laugh. It seems like the kind of thing Phantom would find humorous. Instead, Phantom's eyes go wide. He leans forward, far enough that he is one light nudge away from toppling off the couch.

"Really?"

William nods slowly, confused at the peculiar reaction.

Phantom turns his head, clearly hiding a smile. "I've heard about that Fenton kid. A little weird, that one. His parents aren't big fans of mine."

"He's a good kid." William rises to his student's defense. "He works hard. His sister was my best student, but he's my favourite."

Phantom jumps from the couch. "How did he do? Come on, I want to see what your favourite student is capable of." He floats above William's desk, grinning down at the essay.

"I can't show you my student's grade."

"Come ooon, Mr. L. It's not like he's gonna know. Who would I even tell?" Phantom clasps his hands together. "Please? I'm in so much pain. I need a distraction."

"I now understand why the Fentons call you a pest." Despite his better judgement, William pushes the essay forward.

Phantom whoops and snatches it off the desk, immediately flipping back to the start. "Aw, come on. Immeidately taking a mark off for his opening line? That's a killer line."

William raises an eyebrow. "'Welcome to a list of reasons why I believe Mayor Masters is being controlled by a shadow ghost government'?"

"It's very compelling. Poli-sci, right? The mayor, that's political. Ghosts are scientific. It's perfect!"

William rolls his eyes. Phantom makes more comments as he reads. He apparently has something to say about every mark William has taken off the essay. "Now that's just unfair. You can't take points off just because he calls the mayor 'Vladdy.'"

William should take the essay away, but it's the first time he has seen Phantom give a genuine smile all day. What Danny Fenton doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, Phantom clearly agrees with boy and finds the essay fascinating. William leans back, folding his hands over his desk, and watches. Phantom looks good. No throwing up ectoplasm. He's moving around, exuberant. Perhaps Dr. Alejo's worries were unfounded. William's attention drifts, Phantom's quips and comments fading into the background. This close, he can easily see the rising and falling of Phantom's chest as he breathes.

It still bothers him. The fact that Phantom sleeps is odd, too. And his injuries. Thanks to the number of ghost attacks at Casper High, William has seen Phantom tackle many a foe. He has shot at them, punched them, and thrown them to the ground. In all that time, William has never seen a ghost bleed. They can look weak and drained, but never injured in the way Phantom is now. It's strange. unbelievable.

A ghost that sleeps. That breathes. That bleeds. It's a puzzle, one that William is almost afraid to find the answer to. He wants to keep his thoughts to himself. Phantom has had a rough day and needs his rest, but William can't help but say: "You're strange for a ghost, aren't you."

Phantom's demeanor changes in an instant. His smile drops and the essay crinkles as his fists tighten. "What do you mean?"

"I couldn't help but notice." William hesitates. He really shouldn't push it. Phantom appears uncomfortable already, no longer able to meet William's gaze, holding himself as still as possible. William shouldn't push. But he does. "Do all ghosts breathe?"

Phantom's breath catches in his throat. It's only a second, but it's a damning second. It's why William needs to ask. Because if Phantom isn't a ghost, is something else, isn't dead, then William is seconds away from having a horrifying realization.

"I– I don't–" Phantom chokes on his words.

Tell me yes, William silently pleads. Tell me it's a reflex. Tell me it's a habit. Tell me you are so newly dead that you forget you don't need to breathe sometimes.

Tell me anything except the truth.

"Danny." William swallows. He rises out of his desk chair. It happens so fast that he can't do anything to stop it. Phantom's eyes widen, just a fraction, and then he is gone. "Danny, wait!" he shouts, but it's no use. Phantom is gone before the essay hits the floor.

The room is cold. William is alone. And Danny Phantom is alive.

—

#phic phight #phic phight 2022 #unluckyalis #danny phantom #lancer #mentor lancer #parental lancer #in case of emergency #phicc #phanfic #danny phantom fanfiction #tumblroneshots

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

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The Night Shift

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,189

Warnings: a few bad language words (sorry Stevie), fluff, I think that’s all

Summary: Your bad day turns worse when you're given the night shift at work. But you find it has more perks than you original thought.

A/N: Here it is! My first ever posted/published work! This is a bit new for me for quite a few reasons. 1. I usually write OCs. 2. I'm used to writing 3rd POV and past tense. 3. I like writing series and longer fics. 4k is actually pretty mild for me. Also, I'm planning on doing more first date fics with the Avengers, but we'll see if I keep up with that. Thank you and enjoy!

(Pictures not mine but collage is)

Today is not your favorite day. You woke up late, your laundry isn’t done because the machines were all being used when you tried, your roommate didn’t do the dishes so you had to do them before you left, your car broke down - meaning you had to take the Subway - and now you’re working an extra shift because your stupid coworker didn’t show up.

Who even comes in to get coffee at 9 at night? The sky is dark, the stars are out, and everyone should be getting ready for bed - including you. God. You love New York, but sometimes you wish the damn city would just go to sleep for once in it’s goddamn existence.

You’re practically asleep on your feet, getting ready to close in fifteen minutes, when the door opens, the little bell ringing in response. You rub your eyes and turn from where you’re wiping down the back counters to speak to the wackjob who wants coffee at this cursed hour.

You freeze, your eyes meeting stunning azures framed by dark lashes. Thick, soft, chocolate locks fall down past his ears and into those alluring eyes. Lips, perfectly pink and very tempting, pull up in a delicious smile. He’s got a jawline sharp as a knife, only accentuated by the dark scruff covering it. Jesus Christ this man is attractive. He’s also vaguely familiar…

He strolls up to the counter, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans that pulled taunt around his thick thighs. His shirt is pulled tightly across his shoulders, muscles flexing beneath the fabric, threatening to tear the material with every movement.

“Hello.” You thank whatever deity that might be out there that your voice doesn’t shake as you greet the gorgeous god of a man.

“Hi there, doll. Cody’s off today, huh?” Even his voice is breathtaking.

“Yeah. He didn’t show up. Is he a friend of yours?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, before his eyes light up realization. “Oh, no. No. I just come here a lot.”

“At nine at night?”

He shrugs, a small blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s the only time I get to myself really.” It clicks in your head who this man is when he raises his hand to rub the back of his neck. Black metal gleams in place of tanned skin.

“You’re Bucky Barnes!” You blink at him in disbelief. His hand quickly finds its way back to his pocket while he chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’re one of my favorite Avengers! After Black Widow, obviously, but-” You stop rambling, feeling heat rise to your face. “God, I’m tired. Uh, what can I get you?” You punch in the order that he gives you and look up shyly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

He smirks and leans on the counter. “How about a name, darlin'? Yours, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain the snort you give. “I’ll be right back with your order, sir.” You start making his drink, avoiding his eyes that you feel watching your every move. Usually you had another worker helping to make drinks, but since there’s only ten minutes until closing, you’re alone to close up the shop tonight.

You also usually only write on the cup when there’s more than one person, but you find yourself writing down your own name on his cup. It is part of his order, after all.

“Here you go.” You repeat his order, handing his cup to him.

He raises an amused eyebrow. “You forgot-” You interrupt him by clicking your tongue and turning the cup in his hands. He looks down at it curiously, before grinning and reading the ink out loud. The way your name falls off his lips has you holding in a shiver. “Thanks, sugar.” You watch him leave the shop, whistling a nameless tune, and wonder if Cody would mind switching shifts more.

Turns out, Cody had been arrested, so your boss had to hire a new kid who, because of school, couldn’t do the night shifts. Which meant your shifts changed. Not that you mind all that much; it gives you more chances to see Bucky.

When he said he comes in often, he wasn’t lying. Occasionally he stays while you clean and lock up and the two of you get lost in conversation under the city lights outside the shop. He usually orders and leaves with a witty comment and a wink, probably off to save the world from aliens or Nazis. He always orders the same thing, but he always asks for a little something extra, different every night.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Your phone number would be great.”

“I’ll get right on your drink, Buck.”

“Awesome. Can you add your favorite flowers to that, too? Thanks, sugar.”

“I’m gonna change it up today, dollface.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll have the usual, but on the side I want to know what your favorite dessert is.”

He’s such a charmer. You aren’t sure if he’s just flirting or if he actually likes you. You think maybe he does that with every girl - waitresses, cashiers, secretaries - and he’s just being friendly. You’re sure after being stuck as a brainwashed assassin for nearly a century, flirting and cracking jokes with people makes him feel more normal. Still, you can’t help but wish that maybe the relationship you have now would become…more.

It’s not until he shows up a few weeks after your first meeting that you finally get an answer to whether or not he really likes you.

The bell rings, signifying a customer coming into the shop. You know it’s Bucky by the watch on your wrist; in the past few weeks of working the night shift, only one other person came in at nine o’clock.

“Good evening, beautiful.” A smile lifts the corners of your mouth at the familiar smooth voice that you could listen to all day. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

You straighten up and look over the counter. “It’s called inventory. How’s your day been, Buckaroo?”

“Better now that I get to see your pretty face.”

You roll your eyes, face heating up and a small smile gracing your features. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your drink done. Anything extra?”

“This is a bit riskier than normal, but I’ve been wanting to try it for a while. Can I get your schedule?”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he smirks confidently. “My schedule?”

“Yeah. I just need to know something.”

“What would that be?”

“You free on Saturday, doll?”

* * * * * * * *

Saturday comes much too slowly for your liking, especially considering he asked you out only two days prior. He didn't tell you what you'd be doing today, so you decide on a casual sundress that you can play off as fancy if you need it to be. The color and style compliments you and your beautiful features perfectly and you can only hope he agrees. Your roommate assured you you looked gorgeous before going out with some of their other friends this morning.

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the day when a knock on your door sounds throughout your apartment. You check your watch: 10:30 on the dot. Just like he said. You get up too quickly, causing you to trip on your own feet and stumble - but luckily you catch yourself before you fall. Feeling simultaneously embarrassed and relieved he didn't see your clumsy actions, you head to open the door.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers appeared once you open the door, bright cerulean eyes shining at you from behind them. He grins, said eyes scanning your figure. "You look pretty as a picture, doll."

You duck your head bashfully, taking the flowers from him. "Thank you." You not so subtly check him out as you put the flowers in a vase. Like always, Bucky is absolutely stunning: his brown locks frame his face, falling into those mesmerizing blues, which are even more so due to the dark blue t-shirt under the light bIue jean jacket hugging his muscled torso. Dark jeans pull taunt across those thighs, his large hands in his pockets casually. You find yourself frowning when you notice his left hand is covered by a black glove. You want to say something, but decide against it, too anxious to ruin the date with this god of a man.

He clears his throat, which brings your gaze back to his face. You feel yourself heat up at the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. "Uh, I, um, so...what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could have some fun today, since all you ever seem to do is work."

"I don't always work." You quickly defend. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, making you drop your head again. "Okay. Maybe I don't get out much."

He chuckles. "Good thing. That way I get you to myself." There's that smug smirk again. "As for what we're doing, that's for me to know and you to find out. I'd wear walking shoes if I were you, though."

You give him a curious look, moving over to grab your keys, phone, and wallet, before slipping on your sneakers. "I don't get a hint or anything?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?" You giggle a bit as the two of you head out your door and down the hall. "I didn't know if you mind motorcycles, so I just borrowed Steve's car." He tells you in the elevator.

You talk about motorcycles and your opinion of them as you walk out your building and into the bright Spring sun. Your eyes widen at the nice Camaro parked in the street that he leads you to. "Wow."

"Yeah." Bucky nods in agreement. "Tony had it custom made for Steve for their anniversary a few months ago."

"And he's allowing you to use it?"

Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair as a pink tint dusts his cheeks. "'Allow' is a strong word."

You laugh as he opens the passenger door for you. You thank him, sliding onto the nice brown leather seat. "Does he even know you have it?"

He shrugs, shutting the door and leaning into the open window. "He'll find out soon, I'm sure."

Another laugh escapes you, a smile adorning his lips at the sound. He walks around the car, doing a hood slide to make you chortle again. While you two start driving, you try to convince him to give you a hint, but he's stubborn, denying you answers with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

You recognize the direction you're going after a while and bounce in your seat as you arrive. "Coney Island?"

"I haven't been here since before the War and I've been meaning to come see how it's changed." He told you with a grin. "Who better to come check it out with than the pretty dame who serves me coffee at nine o'clock without complaining?"

Rolling your eyes to cover how much comments affect you, you smile teasingly in return. "Have you always been such a charmer, Barnes?"

He parks the car before shooting you a wink. "Only to angels, darlin', and you're the first one I've met so far."

You inwardly curse, hating how easily flustered you get around him. He gets out of the car and you're about to follow when he opens your door for you and offers his hand to you like the gentleman he is. You take it, enjoying the feeling of your smaller one against his rough calluses, and he helps you out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

"You ready to have the time of your life, dolIface?"

"As long as you get me a treat." You joke, linking your arm with the one he offers.

"Like I wasn't going to?" He scoffs back. "Who do you think l am, sugar? Now c'mon. Fun's awaitin'."

You laugh, letting him drag you around, loving the child-like wonder in his pretty eyes. Whether or not you enjoy roller coasters, you have a blast: playing carnival games, eating food you both know is terrible for you, but tastes oh so good, and people watching the interesting crowds, all while teasing and playing around with each other. There's nothing better you can think of to do with your free day than goof off with Bucky, no stress or worries plaguing your mind like usual. He even wins you multiple adorable plushies! Being a super soldier wasn't just good for saving the world, evidently.

It was while you're eating lunch that you ask Bucky why he's wearing a glove. "I've already seen your arm. I don't mind."

He hesitates, opening his mouth before licking his lips nervously. "It's not...I know you don't. I just don't...I dunno. I don't wanna freak anyone out."

You frown and put down your food, leaning forwards on your elbows. "First off, I think you're an amazing person. Just throwing that out there. Second, I don't think anyone will mind. You're a hero. An Avenger. Basically a celebrity with a badass arm. And, finally, if anyone does say anything, I'll tell them off. Easy peasy."

He snorts at that, before looking at his gloved hand warily. You reach across the table to give both his hands a squeeze. He meets your eyes and you grin reassuringly back. "If you're not comfortable, that's okay. Just know that other people should never be the reason to hide yourself. Trust me."

"I do." He says genuinely. You give him a questioning look, playing with the tips of his gloved fingers. At his nod, you slowly start taking his glove off, giving him time to say no. He doesn't, letting you tug it all the way off. He blushes when you lift the smooth metal to your lips.

"So, what's next? Wanna win me one of those monkeys with the velcro hands?" He chuckles at your question, telling you he'd win you all of them if you asked. You giggle, tightening your hold on his hand and, after finishing the last bite of food, pulling him to the booth with the monkey prizes.

When it starts getting dark, Bucky convinces you to go on the Ferris Wheel with him, promising to hold your hand the whole time if you're scared of heights (even though you haven't let go of his hand or arm since lunch). It's one of the most stunning scenes you've ever seen. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, a few stars dotting the darkened sky, a rare sight living in New York City. The aforementioned city's lights were turning on, causing the skyline to glow brightly. It's hard to think of anything bad about NYC when she looks like that.

"Wow. " You breath, enchanted by the city you've grown to love as home. "There's something almost...magical about it, don't you think?" You turn to Bucky, still captivated by the view, expecting him to be the same. After all, New York has been his home for over a century and so much has changed. Instead, you find him intently watching you, a small, adoring smile etched on his features. You smile shyly, unable to keep his gaze while he's looking at you like that - like you're the most enthralling thing he's seen, bewitching his heart and soul, even with the magnificent picture before you.

"Yeah...there is." He agrees, grabbing your chin between his left thumb and pointer finger gently, making your eyes meet. His right arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm chest, heating you up from the chill the night is bringing.

Your heart drums hard against your ribs when he glances at your lips and you're sure he could hear it, even without his enhanced hearing. Your eyes lock onto his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. You're suddenly so much closer, his right hand holding the back of your neck delicately while his left cups the side of your jaw. Your hands are gripping his jacket, noses brushing.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice comes out low and raspy.

"If you didn't, I'd probably smack you."

You feel his deep chuckle reverberate through his chest, which you just notice is pressed solidly against yours. Before you can process anything, his lips are slanted over yours. They're softer than you originally thought and they move expertly against yours. It surprises you, before you remember he's technically over a century old, so of course he has experience.

The kiss is over before you want it to be, but the need for oxygen gets too much and your lungs start to sting, so you pull back reluctantly, your hands now in his hair while he's holding your face tenderly.

"Speaking of magic."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as the Ferris Wheel starts turning again. "Who knew Bucky Barnes is such a sap?"

He smirks, leaning forwards to peck your Iips a couple times. "I prefer the term 'romantic'."

Once you get off, you hold onto his elbow, leaning against his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me, Buck. I really enjoyed today."

"Well that's good considering we're not done."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, what?"

Bucky scoffs in amusement. "You didn't think that was all, didya, doll? The day's not over; the night's still young!" His right arm slings around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head.

"Okay. What's next?" You ask curiously. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on those delicious lips. "Another surprise?"

"Hope you're hungry, sweetheart."

"Dinner?"

Giving you a charming grin, he leads you back to the car. "Guess you'll have to wait 'n see, darlin’."

* * * * * * * *

"Buck.” You groan, toeing the ground nervously. The blindfold covering your eyes was keeping you from seeing anything and, to your embarrassment, you've already tripped more times than you care to admit. “Where are we? l feel like we've been walking forever. Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

Bucky chuckles softly in your ear, holding you steady as you walk on the uneven surface beneath your feet. “We’re almost there, doll. I promise."

Letting out a huff, you let him lead you further along. Finally, after what feels like hours, though you know you're being dramatic and haven't been walking that long, he stops. "Stay right here," he mumbles, his hands that were on your shoulders leaving, along with his warmth behind you, with a kiss to your cheek.

"Haha. You're so funny."

A couple snickers leave his lips and you can just imagine the smile no doubt gracing his features - the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes adorably. You feel wind nip at your bare skin and shiver slightly, wondering where the hell you are.

"Okay. C'mere." His hands are on you again, the contrast of the two adding to the goosebumps the breeze was giving you. "Right here." You can practically feel his excitement and nerves as he positions you. "Alright. Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be, I suppose."

His nimble fingers are suddenly at the edge of cloth covering your eyes, which he makes quick work of, tugging it off gently. "You can open your eyes, sugar." He chuckles, seeing your eyes tightly clenched shut. You do as he says and blink them open. The sight that meets you takes your breath away.

He brought you to a beach, which you had kind of already guessed due to the sad slipping through your shoes. In front of you, a blanket is spread out, being held at the corners by lanterns, which are connected by a string of fairy lights outlining the blanket. Pillows are scattered on the blanket, a picnic basket to the side while a single red rose is in a small vase in the center with rose petals surrounding the setup. He really is a romantic.

"Bucky. It's beautiful. When did you set this up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, turning red. You smile, enjoying the fact that you can make him just as flustered as he makes you. “Actually, the team helped me out a bit. It was originally just Natasha and Steve. But, uh, then Tony and Wanda found out and then...Sam."

You giggle, knowing his and Sam's brotherly relationship from previous conversation. "I bet he teased the shit out of you when he found out."

"Please," Bucky scoffs. "I'll be the butt of his jokes for at least a month. At least, this part of me will."

"Well, I love this side of you if that's worth anything."

He grins dashingly at you. "Then let the birdbrain tease, because that’s worth everything. Here." Taking your hand, he leads you over to the blanket and sits you down. "All those questions at the coffee shop and I never asked your favorite drink so I brought red, white, beer, Coke, Pepsi, root beer, and," he pulls out the last bottle he brought with a boyish smile. "Apple juice. There's water in 'ere too. And, o' course, the meal and the dessert, which I did ask about because I'm not a complete idiot."

Laughing, you can't help but pull him in for a kiss. "You're so cute."

He clears his throat, his face heating up while he rubs the back of his neck, tying his hair back in a knot. He hands out compliments like candy on Halloween but he can't take them to save his life. How adorable can one man be?

You two eat and talk about everything from hilarious childhood stories to what keeps you up at night. You love listening to his fascinating tales of playing through the 20s, scraping through the 30s, and fighting through the 40s. You especially love the way his face lights up when talking about his family, the Howling Commandos, and America's Golden Boy, both twink and tank stories.

After a couple hours, you find yourself wrapped in his warm jacket - which smelled amazing - leaning against him as he tells you about his new family. You sip on your preferred drink, your eyes fluttering shut, content to simply listen to his soothing voice talking about Clint and Scott's latest prank on Pietro.

"You tired, doll?" You hear him whisper tenderly, his arms around your waist while his thumbs run small circles on your sides.

You hum and look back at him over your shoulder. "Just feeling the moment." He smiles adoringly at you, kissing your temple.

"It's getting late anyways. We should get you home. Don't want your roommate worrying."

You scoff, but agree. You help him clean up and carry things to the car, despite his protests. You nearly fall asleep on the ride back, his big, warm hand resting comfortably on your thigh the whole way. He squeezes gently when you pull up to your building, murmuring lightly to wake you up.

Ever the gentleman, he walks you inside and helps you bring the armful of prizes he got you to your door. Once there, you unlock the door and lean against the frame, facing him.

"Thank you, James. As far as first dates go, this is by far the best one I've had."

He shoots you a smug grin. "Glad to hear that, beautiful. Does that mean if I asked for a second date you'd say yes?"

You give him a smirk back. "I'd say your chances are very good."

"And if asked for a goodnight kiss from the most gorgeous girl I've ever been blessed to be in the presence of?"

You giggle, ducking your head shyly. His hands grip your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. He nudges your nose with his, whispering against your lips, "is that a yes?" AII you can think to do is nod. He smirks at your reaction, before he's pulling your lips against his. It's more passionate, less hesitant and experimental, than the few previous kisses you shared. He's angling your face to deepen the kiss, his hands tangle in your hair and his tongue prods your lips open, swallowing the little whimper you let out.

When you pull back, you're breathless, panting against his open month. "You workin' tomorrow, darlin'?" He rasps out.

"No." You try to collect yourself enough to answer, although it's hard with all your nerves on fire, his scent fogging up your brain. You manage to move your heavy tongue enough to say, "I have the weekend off."

A broad grin lights up his pretty face. "Great. I'll be over at nine. Have a nice night, sweetheart."

You nod, an airy "goodnight" leaving your lips. You watch him walk off, a pep in his step and his lips turned up. You lean back against your door, hugging all your new plushies to your chest, still wrapped up in his jacket, and let out a sigh.

You'll have to go visit Cody and thank him. After all, that dreadful night shift gave you the best day of your Iife.

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #first written work #first published work #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #please excuse any mistakes #thanks for reading!#first dates w/ avengers #💙🦾

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happer08 · 3 years

Text

"Let Me Explain"

I was unbelievably excited for this date. Ian and I had been talking for months, and finally, we had decided it was time to go on an actual date. He finally had a day off in Chicago and was free to meet for dinner. I had spent the whole day making sure I would look perfect and that the date would be good.

It had started to rain on the walk to the restaurant we were meeting at, but there was nothing in the world that could stop how happy I was. I was practically skipping as I rounded the corner through the doorway of the restaurant. Scanning with a smile, I looked around at the bar to the left of the door since that's where Ian told me he'd be.

My smile and my stomach dropped as I saw him talking to a woman. They stood close, much closer than two people that had just met. He was laughing and smiling at her as she was doing the same. He leaned on the bar with his arms crossed as she reached out, putting her hand on his arm. He smiled and blushed, dropping his head looking at her hand.

Tears welled in my eyes as my heart sank. I knew there was no way he wanted to date me. I took a shallow breath, trying to push the tears away as Ian looked up to see me. He froze and pushed her hand away, I turned back toward the door moving toward the exit.

He called my name as I pushed the door back open. It was pouring, and between the rain and the traffic noise, I couldn't hear if he was still calling. I trudged back toward my apartment. My night and mood were ruined; the rain-soaked my clothes as I turned each corner till I got there.

I was freezing; my hands shook as I pushed my key into my door, unlocking my place. Pulling my phone out of my water-logged jeans, my screen was full of calls and messages from Ian. I didn't bother even looking as I undressed, standing in my kitchen. I tossed all of my soaked clothes into the washer before getting into the shower.

The shower was more to heat myself back up than anything else. I sat on the tile floor, pulling my legs to my chest as the hot water cascaded down on my skin. My tears mixed with the water, and by the time I got out, my skin was red and burning, and I was numb. I dried off, combed my hair before pulling on some sweats, a sports bra, and falling into bed, exhausted.

Thankfully I had the next day off of work as I woke up a few hours after I got home, wide awake at 2 am. Pulling on socks, I padded through my apartment toward my phone that was on the kitchen counter.

It was dead, I sighed, moving to plug it in, letting it charge a little as I opened the fridge illuminating the kitchen with the bluish glow. I grabbed a bottle of water and a few cheese sticks looking over as my phone lit up. It charged a little, leaving me to lean on the counter next to it to use it.

There were 15 texts from Ian and a few missed calls. I shook my head, starting to read through the messages.

"That wasn't what it looked like"

"She is someone I used to work with, and we ran into each other while I was waiting for you."

"Where did you go?"

"Come on; it's pouring. Let me come get you so I can explain."

"I'm sorry, please let me explain."

The rest of them consisted of him apologizing or asking where I was or if I was okay. I read all of them; then I listened to his voicemails; they were all the same content as his texts. His voice brought tears back into my eyes. I didn't respond or call back. I had nothing to say. Making my way back to my room, I took my water and laid in bed in the silent, dark room.

I drifted off the sleep at some point and woke up to the sun coming in from my windows. I sat up, rubbing my hands over my face before pulling my hair up and sighing.

Ian POV

I went home after driving around for a few hours, looking for her. She never answered any of my calls or texts, and as I walked into my apartment, I realized how bad I had messed up. I kept checking my phone as I showered and went to bed. I laid awake for hours, practically praying to fall asleep as I repeatedly checked for her to either respond or post something on social media. She never did. Eventually, I fell asleep and was woken up by my alarm. A few of the guys and I had scheduled batting practice at the field, so I got dressed and left doing everything I could not to think about the night before.

When I got to the field, I left my phone in my locker, heading out onto the field, hoping to take all my emotions out on the ball. I set my bats down and found Anthony, Nico, Patrick, and Zack, who was in town for a few days.

"Fellas," I walked up.

"Hey, how did last night go?" Nico asked.

I had told the whole team about the date with the girl of my dreams.

"I um don't want to talk about it."

"What did she stand you up?" Anthony joked.

"No, I screwed up" I put my hands on my hips, looking at him.

"What happened?" Zack asked.

"I was waiting for her, and I ran into Taylor, and she was kinda flirting, and I was trying to be polite, and she walked in at the wrong time; I haven't heard from her since."

All of the guys were silent, looking between the ground and me.

"I fucked up potentially the best thing that could happen to me," I sighed.

The guys were about to start giving advice when our hitting coach showed up, and we got started. While Anthony was batting, Nico came over and stood next to me. Since there were five of us, we had a lot of time just to stand around and talk.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I have no idea. I fucked up, and I have no idea what to do."

He was quiet as we watched Anthony launch a homer toward the center. I took a few deep breaths as Nico looked over at me.

"Have you even talked to her?"

I shook my head.

"I called, and I texted, trying to get her to hear me out, but she hasn't called or texted back. I don't blame her either; I want her to hear me out."

Nico nodded as Patrick walked over.

"Buy her a ticket to tonight's game," he said, stopping in front of us. "Make it somewhere you'll be able to see her, and then have security get her and explain yourself. If she shows up, it means she's willing to hear you out at least; if not, let her go" Patrick looked between us as Nico nodded a few times.

"The man has a point"

After batting practice, I went to the front office and bought a ticket for a few rows up from the on-deck circle.

pov change

"Hey, it's Ian. I know I'm the last guy you want to hear from but, I got you a ticket for tonight's game if you want to come. It's at the main entrance, and all you have to tell them is your name. I want to see you, and I want to have a chance to explain. I understand if you don't come, but I'd like it if you did"

I listened to his message twice from where I laid on my living room floor. I set my phone on my chest, sighing before looking at the clock. It was a night game, and it was already 4 o'clock. I forced myself to get up.

"You have to at least give him a chance," I whispered, heading for my bedroom. "If the explanation isn't good enough, at least you got a free baseball game." I chuckled sadly as I flicked the light on in my bathroom.

I washed my face, did some light makeup, and curled my unruly hair before pulling on a pair of black jeans, a real bra with a tank top. With the base of the outfit started, I walked to my closet. I knew it wasn't warm out, so instead of a jersey, I opted for a Cubs sweatshirt. I added my grey Vans before collecting my things.

I had an hour to get to the field as I got into a cab. I sighed, debating my choice as the cabbie pulled away from the curb. Resting my head back, I looked out the window, watching the city pass on the way to the stadium.

"You okay back there, honey?" The cabbie asked, breaking me out of the nothing box I had gone to in my head.

"Um yeah, I'm fine," I answered politely.

"Come on, you're going to the Cubs game; try and cheer up a little," He tried.

I offered a fake smile and was quiet the rest of the ride. I thanked him and paid as I got out, joining the crowds on the street filing toward the historic stadium. When I got to the main entrance, I found a lady that worked there and approached her with the same fake smile I used in the cab.

"Hi, I'm so sorry, one of the players left me a ticket, and I have no idea where to go to get it," I stated.

"Oh honey, come with me."

She put her hand on my shoulder, leading me back through a few entrances to the inside of the stadium.

"You must be the one," she said with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am," I said with a smile.

"Well, you are good to go," she handed me a ticket with my seat number on it. "If you wanna just head out that door right there, you'll be on the concourse, and you can find your seat from there," She said with a sweet smile.

"Thank you," I said politely, walking out the door she had pointed at.

I got a beer before using the numbers on my ticket to find my seat and settle in. The first pitch was only a few minutes away as I did what I could to prepare myself for seeing Ian again.

Ian POV

"Have you checked to see if she's here?" Nico asked as we stood next to each other in the dugout.

I shook my head, biting the inside of my cheeks.

"I don't want to. I think it's going to be bad either way."

Nico pat my back a few times before walking away. I took a few deep breaths before grabbing my glove and running out onto the field with the rest of the guys. I made sure I didn't look at the seat I'd gotten as I made my way out to centerfield, knowing I would be too far away to see her.

I was the third in the lineup that night, so no matter what happened, I would see her in the first. Pushing the thought of her out of my head, I focused on the inning at hand. All of the outs were on the infield, leaving the outfield just standing there.

We all ran back in, switching out gear as Joc headed to the box. I hid in the dugout while Joc singled to deep left. Kris was on deck, and I stayed in the dugout as long as I could before making my way to the on-deck circle. Pouring over my bat, I looked for any imperfections that could take me back into the dugout. It took some searching, but I found a crack in the barrel and headed back to grab a different bat. Nico came to stand next to me as I reached for one.

"She's here," He said.

I took a deep breath holding it in my chest for a second. Choosing not to respond, I headed back for the on-deck circle standing there as Kris got a single to left-center. My music hit, and I walked over to the batter's box, taking a deep breath before glancing at her seat.

We made eye contact; she held a beer and offered a half-smile at me as I set up with runners at the corners and no outs. I focused on the at-bat and took two pitches down the middle before stepping out and adjusting my gloves.

I took the next pitch deep, basketball out in right field. Rounding the bases, I kept my head down; as I crossed the plate, I tipped my helmet, then high-fived the guys as we ran back toward the dugout. I glanced up, seeing her clapping and smiling. She seemed happy, which was a massive weight off my chest. I walked through the dugout celebrating and putting my gear away before taking a seat on the bench; Nico and Patrick joined me.

"You talked to security yet?" Nico asked.

I shook my head, watching Willson get a base hit. Patrick stood up, looking over at where she was sitting.

"She's still here, Ian; you gotta talk to security before she clears out" He sat back down. I got up, walking down the hall toward the head of the security desk, stopping in front of the desk.

"Hi, Ian," One of the guys said.

"Hey, I was wondering if you could do me a favor" I leaned on the desk.

"Name it"

"There's a girl I need you to get before the game ends and bring her to the clubhouse."

He nodded.

"Of course"

I gave him the information he needed then headed back to the dugout. I sat back down between Nico and Patrick.

"Got it taken care of," I sighed. "Do you think I should get her something to eat or anything?"

Patrick shrugged.

"She already has a beer, so it depends on what she likes for ballpark food."

"I know she likes pretzels and stuff."

Patrick nodded.

POV change

Settling in after the inning, I watched the other team bat as I took in the ballpark atmosphere. After two outs, a few people were walking up and down the aisle next to me; I moved to stand before I felt a hand on my shoulder.

He was wearing a locker room attendant shirt showing he worked for the organization.

I was confused.

"Ian sent these" he smiled, handing me a giant soft pretzel and a second beer.

"Oh, thank you," I smiled, taking them settling back in, getting looks from a few of the people sitting around me.

The next few innings were filled with baserunners for each; by the top of eight, the Cubs were up 8-2. I had finished my pretzel and both beers and had gotten a bottle of water, watching Patrick Wisdom walk up to the box. I moved as a few people filed in and out of the row before security appeared next to me.

"Ms.?" He asked.

"How can I help you?"

"Would you mind coming with me?" He asked.

I shook my head, knowing what this was about. Standing up, I moved out of the row, following the security guard up the stairs and through the stadium. He led me through the common areas before we took a few turns heading deeper into the stadium. The tunnels under were a maze; I had no idea how everyone didn't get lost. I made sure to follow close to security before we stopped near the clubhouse. There was a small couch with a tv in the hallway near the entrance.

"You can wait here; I'm sure you know who asked us to get you," he chuckled as I moved to sit down.

I nodded, smiling, setting my water at my feet.

"They should be down soon, and Ian knows you're here, and he'll come find you."

"Thank you"

"Do you need anything else, or do you need someone to stay?" He asked.

I shook my head with a smile.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Have a good night," He said with a smile before walking away.

"You too"

I sat back on the couch watching the last few outs of the game and then watched the guys celebrate on their way off the field. It was a few minutes between when they got off the field and heard them come down the stairs and file into the club house. I listened to a few voices I recognized as I stared at the corner waiting for Ian to come around. I stood up, hearing his voice grabbing my water bottle. He came around the corner, looking at me.

"Hi," He said.

"Hey," I walked around toward him.

"Thanks for coming"

I nodded a few times.

"Look, I wanted to explain," He started.

I shook my head.

"I don't need you to explain anything, Ian. I took some time to think, and I don't know if we would have ever worked. With who you are and who I am, we have different lives, Ian."

He nodded.

"The first few weeks we talked, I started bragging about you," He explained. "To the guys in the clubhouse to Dakota and Zack to everyone, even my mom," he chuckled, leaning on the wall. "The guys started calling you the dream girl."

I chuckled, shaking my head.

"I don't know about that."

"I do" Ian looked up at me. "They were right."

I swallowed hard, looking at him.

"I understand why you think what you do and why you feel how you do. But I just want a second chance. I don't want to force your decision right now, so take a few days, a few weeks if you need, and I'll wait to hear from you. I want to have this conversation in person, so I'll text you my address and then wait for you to reach out; leave it all up to you since you know what I want."

I nodded a few times, taking a deep breath.

"Okay"

Ian nodded with me.

"Just take your time, okay."

"I'll see you soon, Ian" I smiled as I started to leave the tunnel.

"Do you need someone to walk you out, or do I need to get you a cab?" He called after me.

"No, I'm okay; I remember how to get out of here."

I kept walking till I got outside the stadium heading down Addison heading for my apartment. I walked for a few blocks thinking through everything Ian said and everything I had felt since I saw him with someone else. I called a cab and caught a ride home while my mind spun.

The next few days, Ian and I didn't tal. He sent me his address the night of the game, but we had no contact since then. My days were dull; I had gotten so used to his texts and his little check-ins, not having them felt weird.

It was four days without talking to Ian and at four in the morning when I made my decision. Getting up, I pulled on a pair of jeans with a sweatshirt, pulling on a pair of vans. I grabbed my phone and a bomber jacket on my way out the door. I found Ian's address and put it in the maps on my phone. His place wasn't far, but it was still a good walking distance, and as I climbed the stairs toward his place, I wasn't sure if I should have waited till a more appropriate time.

Licking my teeth, I knocked on his door then stepped back. It was a few minutes of me standing there when I started to debate coming back in a few hours. Just as I was about to walk away, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.

Ian stood on the other side in a pair of underwear and a t-shirt he just put on. His hair was a curly mess. I smiled as he blinked hard.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked.

"I made my choice," I breathed.

Ian nodded and stepped out of the doorway, silently inviting me in. I walked in, looking around at his place; it was just like I had imagined. Turning, I watched Ian close the door and take a few steps toward me, crossing his arms.

"The last few days have been weird. You are not checking in on me, making sure I'm taking care of myself."

Ian nodded.

"I've missed it, and I missed you a lot. I think I want to try and make this work."

"Do you want me to explain?" he asked.

I nodded slowly.

"She's a co-worker, she works on the field doing sideline stuff, she had a few too many and was flirting with me. I was trying to be polite, and you walked in at the wrong time."

I took a few steps forward, getting on my tippy toes. I put my hand on the side of Ian's face pushing my lips to his.

Ian grabbed my hips, pulling me against him, kissing back softly. His lips were soft and full; I kissed a few more times before settling back on my feet.

"Let's make it work," he said.

#Ian Happ #the cubs #i cant tell if i hate this #let me know plz #chicago cubs #Nico Hoerner #Patrick Wisdom #anthony rizzo #kris bryant #bryzzo #IH8

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cordyreborn · 4 years

Text

Revenge:

(TRIGGER WARNING: Murder/Death Discussed)

*I walk into my dark, silent apartment heading straight to the shower. I shed my clothes as I walked, caring little for where things landed. This wasn't my home anymore anyway. *I turn on the water not feeling its icy slaps to my skin. I grab the washcloth and soap mindlessly washing the dirt, the sin off my body. I scrub til blood dribbles down the drain with the dirty water. I collapse into the corner, my unshed tears finally breaking through.*

What have I done? *I whisper into my arms.* Cinny, I'm sorry it had to go this way but there was nothing else to do. Forgive me my friend, while I learn to forgive myself. *I close my eyes relishing the water pelting my skin, cleansing my body while my soul remains filthy.*

*I think back to two days ago, that man with the giants. I think to the Vet who pronounced Cinny dead. I think of my plan to end this once and for all.* It was for the best. I know it was. *I called Noel and made plans to meet this evening at 5:00pm at a park two towns over.*

*He questioned my meeting place but I explained I was collecting herbs that grew there and it would be easier than driving home and wasting more of his time. Put a little lilt in your voice, especially when you know he wanted you, and a gal can get most anything she wants.

*So, he agreed and I went out of town to get some supplies. Then I came back and baked some sea salt and extra fudgy brownies and some fruit punch tea. All had an extra kick, hope they liked their treats. I packed up my car and went to the town I'd mentioned.*

*Oh I had forgotten to mention To him this was a ghost town! Oh well. It's one of those small towns the government closed due to mining issues. Not a soul around. I parked and set the table, then waited for the giants. An hour later, they pulled in next to my car.*

"Well, hello Miss King. How are you this fine evening?" *Bastard and his giants sitting down acting like they have no cares in this world. They probably didn't.... until now. They'll not see it coming. THAT I'll guarantee.* Hello. Care for a brownie? A drink? *I ask smiling*

"No, just get handing over what you owe me and we will be out of your lovely hair." *The urge to shiver in disgust rolled down my spine but I kept most of it hidden as I plastered my biggest and brightest smile his way.* Oh please. I went to all this trouble just for you. *I batted my eyelashes and smiled wider. I handed them each a napkin with a brownie and a glass of tea* "Well, if you insist. I would hate to say I turned away good cooking from a beautiful lady." *I watch as they eat and drink their fill, smiling the whole time*

My you fellas were sure hungry. What did you think of my goodies? *I ask as they finished polishing off everything I brought* "Very delicious Miss King, just like you." *I recognized the new glint in Noel's eye and it had nothing to do with the money he thought I owed. *I pretended to clean up and take things back to my car but in truth...I was waiting.* "Hurry up Miss King, let's finish this."

Be right there, just getting the money for you. *I keep shuffling until I hear groans and then cries of "what have you done!" *When the cries died and silence reigned I got to work.

I took off my clothes and switched it to darker clothes that hid my body shape and hair and face. I put on gloves and got out the plastic wrap, and blanket that I'd brought* You can do this Cordy. You can!

*I laid down the plastic wrap and blankets then dragged down the bodies and laid them on their own blankets.* Damn heavy, giant bastards! Can't believe I'm doing this. What have you turned me into? *I kicked the body nearest me out of frustration. Then I went back to my car for the hammer and lighter I'd brought.* This is so gross. *I steadied myself before hitting each man in turn, covering their faces with plastic wrap first to contain the blood, with the hammer.* At least they can't ID you if they ever find you. *I say to the remains before pulling out the lighter. I grab the first giant's finger and proceed to burn each fingertip, ensuring fingerprint ID was also off the table.*

Now to finish this. *I get the car keys from giant 1's pocket then wrap the men nice and tight ensuring they can't be seen without being unwrapped. I drag them to their car, this takes the longest, and eventually get them in a pile inside* Never piss off an empath.

*I drive the car to a very, very deep sinkhole left by a mining incident and unload the bodies. I roll each body down the edge knowing they'd never be found. I strip naked tossing my clothes, my gloves, my shoes, and all the stuff I brought with me in the car.*

*I use my socks to shift the car into gear, tossing the lighter into the car as it goes over the edge too.* Oh, it did catch fire...go me! *I say as I watch the burning car disappear into the void.*

*I walk back to my car, wearing only my socks. I get dressed into my original clothes and drive to another sinkhole the town has. I dump the food and drink items into it, watching them disappear as well.* Time to go home.

*As I drive home I start to realize the enormity of what I'd done. I knew it had to be this way but I also knew what then of things would be too. As I get home, I slide the envelope with my move out notice in it, into the manager's 'inbox' that hangs on his door.*

A new beginning is ahead Cordy. New place, new job, new me. *I pop my head up from my memories when my phone rings. I get out of the shower, wrap a towel around my body, and go to answer it.* Hello? Oh hi Sal, sure I have a minute to discuss your order....

<<<TBC>>>

#Revenge #SometimesDeathIsBest #TheyWontBeMissed

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mosylufanfic · 7 years

Note

I'd love to see Killervibe + 23, please. Thank you!

Me: Hey, strangers on a train! This should be fun and easy!

Also me: discards three different ideas over the course of two days

Also also me: spends a week researching various aspects of law enforcement, eventually goes “aw fuckit” and handwaves what’s left

Stop in the Name of

“Most people are nervous about flying.”

“Hmm? What?” Cisco Ramon looked up.

The woman sitting across from him lifted her eyes from her book. “I said, most people are nervous about flying. Not taking the train.”

He studied her. She had big brown eyes and long dark reddish hair twisted into a braid, and she wore a suit and a cool, unapproachable expression. She looked like someone who was going to a meeting in another city about accounts receivable or stocks and bonds or something. She didn’t look like a chaos villain.

Still, there was a reason his vibe had tugged him in this direction as he was boarding, and right now it was going pingpingping on his brain stem. “Oh, well, you know. Just about anything can crash horribly these days.”

She considered him for a moment without cracking a smile. “Hmm. Interesting way of looking at it.” She went back to her book.

Tough crowd.

His foot jittered again, bumping the seat, and she looked up again. He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.

Well, shit, it was reasonable to be nervous when you’d been dreaming about this train derailing horribly for the past week, and now you were on it and only about 44% sure you’d be able to do something about it. To stop the twisted metal and the twisted bodies, the blood and the screaming -

No pressure or anything.

He took a deep breath and pressed his foot into the floor.

He pulled out his notebook and turned it to the most recent page, which was scribbled all over with notes like red upholstery and white ribbon and blue eyes.

He’d added scrawled, terrible sketches of the disjointed images that he hadn’t been able to piece together - a coiled snake, a line of metal studs in leather, a rain of some tiny items spitting at his face.

He hadn’t needed to write much about what happened every time - screams and crashes and the shriek of tearing metal. It was all burned into his cerebellum.

But directly in the center top of the page he’d put one word - COLD.

The cold had been overwhelming in every dream. It was impossible to tell where it was coming from, but every time it came he woke up shivering, no matter how many blankets he piled on or how far up he turned the heat.

He rubbed his hand over the worn, dark red upholstery of his seat. Well, got that, he thought wryly. He’d taken this train all his life, so the red upholstery had been one of the first things he’d ID’d.

He looked around, checking faces and matching them to what he’d seen in his dreams. That lady there, knitting - he’d seen her with blood pouring down her face. That guy working on his computer, he’d been screaming. That kid with the earbuds in, playing a game on his phone, had been -

Okay, no, he ordered himself. He was going to stop this, or at least be around to help, and - well. It wasn’t going to turn out like that, was all.

He hadn’t seen the woman in the seat across from him, he realized, and wondered why.

He glanced at her, and found her eyes flicking back down to her book. She’d been looking at his notes, he realized. “Want me to turn it around so you don’t have to read upside down?” he asked sweetly.

“I’m fine,” she said. After a moment she added, “Looks like a lot of notes you’ve got there.”

“Just some thoughts for work.” He nodded at her book. “Interesting reading?”

“For work,” she said.

“Mmmm,” he said, and doodled a snowflake in the top left corner of the page. “See, cuz I couldn’t help but notice, you haven’t turned a page in like ten minutes. So either you’re a really slow reader or you’re actually not reading at all.”

She put the book down. “Well, you’re pretty observant, aren’t you?”

“I do my best.”

“I’m sure you do. Well, I’ll give you one warning. Stay out of this if you know what’s good for you.”

His heart beat in his ears. “Oh, I hardly ever know what’s good for me.”

She opened her mouth, but at that moment, a burly guy got to his feet a couple of rows up. Standing, he revealed the design on the back of his jacket - a twisted snake.

Cisco’s eyes narrowed. Had she been trying to distract him? His bosses kept him on the down-low, it was true, but word might have gotten out.

The woman opposite him frowned, then looked over her shoulder. “Friend of yours?” she said.

He met her eyes. “Never seen him before in my life.”

He looked back. The snake was moving toward the front of the carriage. To go to the bathroom?

The bathroom was in the other direction. What was to the front of the carriage was the conductor, and the engine.

Cisco found himself on his feet, and found that she’d risen too.

“I told you stay out of this,” she said in an undertone, starting down the aisle.

“Like hell,” he muttered back.

She huffed and turned back, and he took the opportunity to flick the switch on his gauntlets. They hummed against his palms and the backs of his wrists, no longer just leather motorcycle gloves but something more.

As he looked at the back of her head, a thin ribbon of white slid down her hair, twisting through her braid. His footstep stuttered.

“Sir,” she called out. “Sir, where are you going?”

Snake looked over his shoulder and picked up his speed, reaching out to yank at the door. It didn’t budge, and he hit it with his palm.

“Sir, you’re not permitted in that section - Sir.” She spread her fingers at her sides, and thick mist swirled around them. “You need to stop what you’re doing right now. I’m with the U.S. Marshals and my powers are active.”

As the other people in the carriage gasped and ducked, Cisco caught his breath.

My powers are active.

That phrase was one of the first things you learned at the academy - identifying that you, as a meta, were armed and dangerous simply by existing. FBI, Marshals, ATF, police, it didn’t matter, they all had to memorize it, and they all sneered at movies and TV that got it wrong or skipped it.

“Sir, I’m telling you again to stop what you’re doing and step away from the door - ”

Cisco’s eyes flicked over, and he saw the guy who’d been sitting next to Snake, already half-on his feet. A pattern of studs decorated the collar of his leather jacket. He was already pulling his arms back, teeth bared, focused on the marshal.

Cisco swung his hands up and yelled “CCPD, my powers are active!” Square on the heels of his announcement, he threw a small boom, just enough to knock Studs back into his seat.

The marshal’s head whipped around for the briefest of instants, and their eyes met. Hers had turned blue.

The next second, she’d whipped back around and slammed something out of her hands. Mist billowed, Snake’s jacket frosted over, and ice coated the lock.

The temperature plunged and Cisco thought, Well, there’s the cold - but he couldn’t focus on her anymore because Studs was out of his seat again, lurching toward Cisco, arms outstretched. Something like a small hail of rocks or bullets burst out from his palms.

“The fuck,” Cisco said, and simultaneously ducked and ripped a breach in the air between them, so that whatever Studs had thrown disappeared harmlessly into the nothing. Cisco zipped it up again and threw a bigger boom, knocking the other meta back. “That’s attempted assault with deadly powers,” he called out. “Stand down, you’re in enough trou - shit!” He had to rip the breach open again to swallow the metal shards.

He didn’t duck this time, but leapt, zipping the breach as he did, so he landed on Studs, sending them both to the floor between the two rows of seats. The bigger man heaved and wrestled, slamming Cisco against the seats. He winced as the armrest dug into his kidney, but slapped his hand over Studs’ ear and sent a very specific set of waves down his ear canal, just enough to lightly scramble his inner ear and make his head spin.

Studs went limp and collapsed on the floor.

“You’re under arrest,” Cisco panted, hauling Studs’s hands behind his back. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney - ”

Studs still squirmed, but by the time Cisco asked if he’d understood his rights as they were explained to him, he’d subsided, and only nodded sullenly, face mashed into the floor.

When he had Studs cuffed in a window seat in the first row, Cisco looked up to check on the marshal. She had Snake pressed against the wall of the train carriage, neatly cuffed. He was still shivering, and the ice was slowly melting from the door between the carriage and the engine.

She was on her radio, firing off codes. Cisco glanced around to check on the civilians and found them all huddled at the far end, looking at all of them - Cisco and the marshal, too - with fear and suspicion.

He sighed. Some gratitude. That was norms for you.

He looked back at the marshal, who sighed and shrugged at him before calling out, “There will be a short interruption in travel while these gentlemen are removed from the train. We should be on our way again soon.”

A chorus of groans and mutters rose up, but she ignored them, steering Snake around to sit in the window seat in the row across from Cisco and Studs, cuffing him in place. She sat in the aisle seat.

“Nice job,” Cisco told her across the aisle. “Marshal - ?”

“Snow,” she said. “Caitlin Snow. You, too. You’re CCPD?”

“Officer Cisco Ramon, at your service. Quite literally.”

She shook the hand he held out. “You’ll have to transfer custody, I’m afraid,” she said as the train began to slow.

“Hey, he’s all yours,” Cisco said under the sound of the conductor making the same announcement that she had a few minutes ago. “I’m technically off-duty. This wasn’t how I thought today was gonna go.”

He looked around the train, still intact, at the people not lying broken and bloodied, and thought, But this is preferable.

He looked back at the marshal, whose eyes were slowly turning back to brown. The white streaks in her hair were darkening up again. She caught his eye and smiled at him, and he thought, Way preferable.

On Friday, Cisco was in his lab, bopping to the beat, when somebody cleared their throat loud enough to be heard over the music. He glanced over and saw Marshal Caitlin Snow in the doorway, and slammed his hand down on the off button.

Not only had she caught him dancing, it had been to Lady Gaga.

“Hi,” he said, feeling his face go red. “Hey. To what do I owe the honor, Cai - Marshal Snow?”

“Officially, I’m here to interview you for my report,” she said. “Unofficially, I’m here to thank you again. The Harknesses definitely would have gotten the better of me if you hadn’t been there.”

The Harkness brothers were Snake and Studs, known on their birth certificates as Jason and Bryan. “No problem. Happy to help. Is that just your thanks, or is that coming from the U.S. Marshals?”

She went poker-faced. “The U.S. Marshals’ official statement is that while they are of course grateful for any assistance rendered by local law enforcement, they have a firm policy against assigning more than one meta-human to a single op. While it was unavoidable in this case, steps will be taken to ensure it doesn’t happen again. For the continued peace of mind of the general public, of course.”

He nodded. “Got bawled out?”

“At length.”

“Same here. I mean, what are we supposed to do? Check the Eiling registry? Do a blood test?” He waved his hands. “‘Ooooo, so sorry, didn’t know another metagene was in the room. I’ll let you handle these bad guys on your own.’”

She shrugged. “It’s the price of admission.”

For people like them, she didn’t have to say.

He sighed. “Well, I don’t get put in the field much, so it more than likely won’t come up again.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t I get put in the field? Uh, my powers freak some of the guys out.” He waved his hand. “Anyway, I’m more useful to the department in here, building defensive equipment against metas. To tell the truth, everyone in the precinct was pretty shocked I knew my ass from my elbow in that fight.”

“They must not be paying attention,” she said.

He felt heat crawl up his face and changed the subject. “So - the Harknesses. What was their game, anyway? Did they just wanna create mayhem or what?”

She studied him, clearly debating on how much to tell him. “Did you notice the third car down when you boarded?”

“The one with all the power dampeners?” A lot of high-level power dampeners made you sick to your stomach. His breakfast had practically come up, right there on the platform.

“It was a federal prisoner we were transporting to Starling for incarceration. Every car had at least one Marshal on it, for just the kind of thing we prevented.”

The tone of her voice told him clearly that was all he was going to get about that. “I thought you boys normally went by Con Air.”

“The nature of this meta, flying wasn’t an option. Anyway, the Harknesses thought they’d hijack the train and make off with him.”

A cold chill rolled down his spine. “It wouldn’t have worked. It would have been way worse.”

She tilted her head. “You said something like that on the train. How would you know?”

“I get these flashes sometimes,” he explained. “Uh. Vibes. Shots of something that’s going to happen. And for the past week, I’ve been seeing this train leap the tracks. And everyone in it - ” He grimaced. “Not pretty.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “But you said you were off duty.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I asked to be assigned to the train for the day, and they said no.” He shrugged. “It crosses jurisdictions and there wasn’t any obvious crime in my vibes. Just, uh, a blood drenched disaster that might or might not happen.”

“So you -”

“Took a personal day and bought a train ticket,” he said.

“To board a train that you were pretty sure was going to derail and kill everyone on board.”

“Always in motion is the future,” he said breezily. “Clearly that changed. Don’t look so shocked. If I had to guess, you didn’t join the Marshals for the shiny jewelry.” He sat back. “Speaking of which, why doesn’t the CCPD know that there’s a meta stationed at the Central City Marshals’ office? I mean, I usually hear about it right away when there’s a new meta in our circles.”

“I’m a transfer from the Coast City office,” she said. “I started on Monday. I’m sure my superiors will get around to informing yours eventually.”

“Yep, sounds like the cordial and respectful working relationship that we law enforcement agencies all enjoy with each other,” he said.

She cracked a small smile and put her hand in her suit pocket, drawing out a metal case with the seal of the Marshals etched on the front. “Well,” she said. “For what it’s worth, I think we made a good team.” She pulled out a card and held it out. “If you wanted to stay in touch - ”

He took it, studying the front. Name, phone, email, all very official. “Maybe share information? Unofficially?”

She shuffled her feet.

He flipped the card over and found another phone number, and what looked like a personal email. His brows shot up.

She shut the case and put it away. Was she - blushing? “Or just - you know. Stay in touch.”

“I’d like that,” he said.

She smiled tentatively. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled back at her. “You’re right. We did make a good team.”

FINIS

#Cisco Ramon #Caitlin Snow #Killervibe #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #AU prompt party #LEO AU #the flash #starlabsforever

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