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gumnut-logic · 4 years

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Coffee

This is @godsliltippy ‘s fault because she was so kind to me and posted Pocket Virgil to help me through the day. Above is the original three clips, of which Pocket Virgil is part of Clip Two. After watching Pocket Virgil try again and again with no success, I kinda wanted to help him, so this fic happened.

Total meta crack, that really didn’t go anywhere, but hopefully will be fun nonetheless. Certain laws of both physics and worldbuilding were totally ignored, so there may be some brain frying concept-wise.

This is for Thunderfam and for all the kindness you continue to bestow upon me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You guys are amazing. ::hugs you all::

Leave sense at the door. I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy was grumpy.

He knew this idea was good an all and he fully supported Lady Penelope when she suggested they document some of their rescues for the general public.

But not once...not once! Did she mention that he would be dragged out of bed before the sun, thrown on a set to perform, and the only coffee they would provide would be thimble-sized, consequently cold and allocated to break times.

At the moment, ‘break’ was definitely a keyword. Sans coffee, Virgil Tracy was quite ready to do something of the kind to the director.

“Now, Virgil, I know you’re tired, but you are the calm brother, the respected peacemaker of the family. Snarling at the camera isn’t quite in character.”

In character? He was playing himself, for goodness sake. He was in character, character sans coffee! Across the studio, he eyed the Tracy villa swimming pool and wondered if there was a possibility of filling it with coffee.

“Can we try again?”

Virgil grunted at the director. Bet he had had his coffee. Bet he was allowed to access that wondrous machine up so high on that shelf. Bet he hadn’t given one thought to how his precious Tracys might feel about the matter.

Yeah, Virgil Tracy was not in a very good mood at all.

The director stood up from the set and stepped away to be half hidden by the camera again.

Virgil lowered Two’s hatch and climbed aboard. All prepared to launch Two with a smile.

He grit his teeth.

Backing her up into her hangar again, he closed the cliff face and waited for the call.

“Action!”

Practised fingers went through their motions and Two cruised out onto her runway under the fake sunlight.

A poke at a control and the palm trees moved aside...not quite the way they did at home, but well enough...and Two taxied towards her ramp.

“Cut!”

Oh, for the love of...what now?!

“Virgil, you are grinding your teeth. I would say we could mute it in post, but you look like you want to kill someone. You’re the valiant hero, the gentle giant, not Hannibal Lecter daydreaming about dinner!” Virgil stared up at him through the windows. Usually, Virgil would be mortified, but it was barely past 7am, he had been up late for a real rescue last night, hadn’t slept well, and there was no damned coffee!

The director stared at him a moment longer before throwing up his hands. “Okay, you know what? Take fifteen, go find some coffee, for all our sakes.” He ended that with a glare and turned away calling the crew to a halt.

Virgil sat there staring at the replica of his ‘bird’s controls. He had been in the real thing last night. Saved sixteen lives.

He was just tired and not really being fair to anyone, including himself.

He just wanted coffee. Please, I just need coffee.

If his inner voice sounded like a dehydrated man in a desert pleading for water, it was just being honest.

The thing was that the crew had coffee. In that machine on the shelf. Sure, the cup was bigger than he was, but it might be just enough to put his brain to rights.

But he couldn’t reach the button to activate it. In fact, the one time he had tried, some smart ass on set had filmed him jumping up, trying to reach it. It had made the rounds until it hit Gordon, who then promptly made sure the rest of the world had the opportunity to enjoy laughing at his brother.

But then Gordon still didn’t know who poured dye in his pool...while he was in it.

The full body make-up his brother had to wear that day to hide the purple was almost worth it.

But coffee...god, he needed coffee. If only he could extend his reach. If only he could grip the cup...

Virgil blinked.

The solution was obvious. Oh my god. He felt like kicking himself for not thinking of it before. You idiot!

There was one piece of equipment he had brought on set that wasn’t fake.

It was here for two reasons. The first was that it was built for Virgil, only he could wear it and it was cheaper to just wear the real thing than to build a poorly functional duplicate. Secondly, Virgil preferred to have one on hand as often as possible, just in case, and since they had been spending so much time in Aotearoa on set, he had stashed one with the lead model maker for safe keeping.

He exited the fake Two and leapt out onto the runway. The fact that one of the set hands saw him and immediately made herself scarce was kind of depressing. He had been a grumpy bear this morning.

But that was all about to be solved.

He eyed the director and, making sure the man wasn’t looking, grabbed one of the discarded thimble-sized coffee cups and slipped away towards prop storage.

It was a hike and he had to dodge wheels and staff who didn’t see him. Those who did all immediately looked at their watches and, just like the set hand earlier, hurried out of his sight.

Maybe he was beginning to get a reputation.

Serve them right for not giving him coffee!

He found his helmet and his exosuit exactly where he expected them to be. Some neurotic librarian type had attached a huge name tag with a barcode onto it.

Virgil’s shoulder mounted laser took care of that.

It was almost comforting to slide on the equipment. The surety of its strength settling on his shoulders, its weight snug at his hips and ankles.

He sighed.

Of course, that one moment of relaxation was interrupted by Steven, the lead model maker, suddenly bursting into the room.

“I don’t know, Scott. That sounds kind of dangerous. The real Thunderbird One might be able to handle you surfing it, but I’m not too sure of the mockups.”

“I’ll talk to Brains. We’ll make it happen.”

“Why are you feeling the need to surf on the outside anyway?”

“Because it looks cool?” Scott cleared his throat. “Ah, because that is what happened during the incident we are portraying and accuracy is important.”

Virgil hunched down behind a scarily accurate model of that moon buggy Scott was always raving about. He dared not move because the wheeze of the suit’s hydraulics was far too familiar a sound to hide from his brother.

But then, since Scott was buzzing around at Steven’s eye height thanks to one of his jetpacks, his older brother really didn’t have a single leg to stand on.

Mostly because he apparently didn’t need them.

Virgil found himself grinding his teeth again.

He really needed coffee.

“You actually surfed on the outside of Thunderbird One?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That is so cool, man.”

“That’s what I said!”

Steven reached past Virgil’s hiding spot and picked up one of the fake explorer pods and Virgil remembered that he was supposed to clamber up the side of an equally fake mountain later in the morning.

Hell, coffee was mandatory.

Fortunately, Steven appeared to have everything he needed and both he and Scott left almost immediately after that, Scott coming as close to raving as Virgil had ever heard him, babbling about surfing on One.

Sounded about right. Scott and Alan might as well have been twins if it wasn’t for their age difference.

They both gave Virgil grey hair.

But then so did Gordon.

John was easier, cool and calm and sensible most of the time. But that just meant that when he did slide off the rails, he did a proper job of it, likely taking most of them with him.

Hmmm, must remember to grab some more hair dye on the way home tonight.

With the coast clear, he secured his thimble cup to his suit and made a run for it.

He made it across the floor to the blessed coffee machine without interruption this time, though he had to admit, his suit was much noisier than he had realised. But a good percentage of the crew were focused on that scene Scott was filming.

He could still hear his brother declaring that he knew his stunts better than any stunt man.

Virgil had to agree. If anyone was capable of surfing Thunderbird One, it was Scott.

The idiot.

Now, not only was he doing stupid stunts to save people, but now just to show off.

Virgil had a good mind to kick his ass. He was as bad as Alan.

No, correction. Alan wasn’t that stupid.

Virgil found himself taking a step in his big brother’s direction and it was only the wheeze of his suit that made him realise exactly what he was doing.

Coffee, goddamnit, he needed coffee!

Without a second thought, he fired a grapple line up to the bench top and was gratified it secured with a thunk. Pulling himself up with the right equipment was so much more efficient than the equivalent pseudo rock climbing he had had to do last time.

Before he knew it, he was up there standing next to the huge dispenser of coffee. He gazed up at it for a moment and blessed its existence.

But unfortunately, Sadie who had been kind enough to set it up for him last time wasn’t available.

Hell, if his assistant hadn’t been called away at the last minute, he would have gotten his coffee that day. As it was, the director had found out about the incident when Virgil arrived late on set and had given Sadie a dressing down that involved images of Tracy brothers falling into giant vats of coffee and being boiled alive.

As if Virgil would be that stupid.

Boiling himself would be such a waste of good coffee.

But there were no more attempts at giant coffees for Virgil Tracy from that point on. It was banned.

So, this time, he had to set it up himself.

He was consequently reassured that yes, he was really good with his tools. The suit hummed in appreciation as he made it do what he needed it to do and despite dropping coffee granules all over himself at one point – he was considering eating them off the counter, but then considered that a caffeine overdose wasn’t wise – he set up the machine ready to dispense some black heaven.

The teacup he had used last time had been pushed away to one side, but his exosuit made it a simple job to manipulate it into position so he could stand on it.

With the extension of his claw, he easily reached up and hit the green button.

It was a pleasure just to hear the coffee machine start up.

He was seriously tempted to take off his helmet and breathe in the gloriousness that was the scent of brewing coffee, but he still had to get that coffee cup into a position from which it would be safe for him to drink.

He may be coffee and sleep deprived but he wasn’t an idiot.

So, he stood there watching the coffee machine make the drink of the gods.

It was a little mesmerising.

And then the process was complete. The machinery quietened and the coffee cup sat waiting for him.

He didn’t hesitate.

It took both claws and a secure grapple to the shelf above the bench for stability, but he manoeuvred the cup down onto the bench top.

Steam fogged up his helmet as he looked down from atop the upturned teacup, so finally, he broke the seals and lifted it off his head.

Oh.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

He almost melted on the spot.

The smell was heady, intoxicating. Drowning in the dark liquid no longer seemed a bad idea.

He leant over a little further.

Ohhhhhhhhhh, it was just too good.

“Virgil! What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

It was Scott’s voice. Unmistakeable.

He would want to take away his coffee.

No.

No!

Not his precious coffee!

His brother flew up onto the bench and alighted without a sound. “Virgil!”

Virgil hissed at him. “Go away.”

That earned him a worried frown. “That’s not safe.”

Screw safe, he wanted coffee. He unhooked his thimble cup from his waist and reaching down, scooped up some blessed, steaming liquid manna.

It was hot.

It was delicious.

He poured it down his throat.

Oh, god, yessssss.

Another scoop and he sculled some more. His tongue scalded a little, but he didn’t care.

More.

He was guzzling like a dying man at water filled oasis.

“Virgil?”

“Virgil!”

And suddenly the coffee cup disappeared.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

He over balanced and would have fallen if it wasn’t for a sudden thunk of a grapple on the back of his suit.

He looked up to find Scott securing his grapple line to a coffee cup hook underneath the overhead shelf as Virgil teetered on the edge of his teacup, barely prevented from falling by the cable’s connection to his suit.

And there was no more coffee.

No.

Please.

“I need coffee.”

Scott floated down to Virgil’s eye level and Virgil realised exactly who had taken the coffee cup away.

The director was standing behind his big brother.

Virgil was in so much shit.

Damnit.

“I just want coffee.”

Scott was frowning at him. “Are you okay, Virgil?”

“DO I LOOK OKAY?!”

Um, that may have come out a little bit louder than intended. But then he was hanging partly suspended from an empty coffee cup hook.

Much quieter. “I just need coffee.”

Scott’s eyes were wide. “I think you’ve had enough coffee.”

No, he needed more. Buckets more. “Please, Scott.”

“Uh, no. We’re going home.”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

But Scott had turned away and was talking quietly to the director.

Virgil caught a glimpse of something shiny out the corner of his eye and turned to find a single drop of deep brown gold suspended from the coffee dispenser.

Coffee!

Without thought he leapt for it.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Scott actually did think, because a yank on that grapple line probably prevented Virgil from being scalded.

“What the hell, Virg?!”

He blinked as he hung fully suspended by his brother’s grapple line, swinging slowly back and forth, one very unhappy commander glaring at him.

Umm, yeah, maybe that was taking it a step too far.

Scott’s words were firm. “Shed the suit and go and sit in the car.”

“Sco-“

“Now.” Blue fire lasered him where he hung.

Virgil gave in with a single nod.

Scott lowered him to the bench top and Virgil dropped the suit with a clatter. He stomped off in a huff as Sadie was called over the PA system to come and assist him.

He only wanted a decent coffee, for crying out loud.

After all, Gordon did get that massive hot dog the other day, and John had slept in his bagel, for goodness sake.

Why couldn’t he have his coffee?

It just wasn’t fair.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #crazy meta #meta crack #meta #nutty is nuts #he just wants coffee

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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If you ever wanna be in love (I'll come around), Chapter Four (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: Previously: Brooke and Vanessa had dinner with Brooke’s parents Now: Vanessa’s scheme to get more time with Brooke pays off, and they get closer.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback and love you’ve given this fic, it makes me so soft and really keeps me going. I’d love any thoughts you have on this chapter as well! Thank you to Writ for betaing, you’re the best!! <3 <3

Brooke smooths her thumb over the pink lipstick Vanessa wore Saturday. Pink like frosting, like peonies, like candy hearts. Like Vanessa’s lips.

It’s just lipstick, but Brooke’s been staring at it all weekend like she’s never seen it, like it’s a fossil to discover. It’s a piece of Vanessa, proof she really was in Brooke’s car, that Brooke really was that happy with her. She can’t stop picturing Vanessa putting her lipstick on, letting it glide over her lips–

Brooke has to get it back to her right away. It’s just lipstick, but Vanessa wears it a lot, so it’s probably her favorite. The library is only a few blocks from the museum, a coffee shop on the way, and maybe it’s a flimsy excuse to bring Vanessa coffee, but Brooke snatches it like a lifeline. And so what if she memorized Vanessa’s coffee order? Brooke was so horrified by the amount of sugar Vanessa dumped in that it’s burned into her brain. Brooke takes her coffee black, thank you very much, not only for the taste but because extra sugar makes her jumpy.

She has Vanessa’s sugar explosion in her left hand and the lipstick in her right as she enters the library, and she shouldn’t be sweating this much in the air conditioning. What if Vanessa already had coffee? What if someone asks Brooke why she’s here--I’ll say I’m bringing my wife coffee, Brooke thinks, and the thrill of it floods her.

The children’s room is bigger than Brooke expected, with long walls of books and sections for computers and toys, some kids playing on a bright rug. Vanessa is at the desk with her co-workers–A’keria and Yvie, Brooke recalls–and her face lights up when she sees Brooke.

“What brings you here?” Vanessa asks gleefully.

“Um,” Brooke begins, distracted by Vanessa’s dazzling smile. “I found your lipstick in my car. It must have fallen out of your purse.” She sets it on the desk, almost sad to lose it, like she’s lost part of Vanessa. “And I thought you might want coffee.”

Vanessa plainly does want coffee, snatching the cup and sighing in content.

“Damn.” A’keria whistles, turning to Brooke. “You got brothers? I want a fake husband to bring me coffee.”

Brooke shakes her head. “Sorry.”

“Worth a shot.”

Vanessa elbows her, then shoots out of her chair. “Hey, do you have time before work?”

“I should. Why?”

Vanessa claps her hands. “Because you, Brookie, are about to get my famous library tour.”

Brooke flushes at the nickname, which only her niece and nephew use. It’s special to hear Vanessa say it, a secret between them.

“Is this what we’re calling famous nowadays?” Yvie asks.

Vanessa shushes her and herds Brooke to the bookshelves. “These are books for little kids, middle school, and young adults. And this”–she points at shelves with construction paper hearts and rainbows streaming down the sides, informational pamphlets nestled between books for all ages– “is the pride month display I made.”

She smiles hesitantly, proud in her work but uncertain what Brooke will think, and Brooke doesn’t want Vanessa to doubt herself for a second. She loves how much Vanessa cares, making special displays to inform kids on different sexualities and safe sex, and she wants Vanessa to know it.

“That’s awesome, Vanessa,” Brooke says. “It’s so great you did this. Think of all the kids it’ll help.”

“Yeah.” Vanessa flashes her smile again, like that was exactly what she had in mind and was waiting for someone to recognize it, to understand how important it is to her. “Here are some crafts I’ve done.”

She nods to a shelf littered with Styrofoam Poké balls and tissue boxes transformed into sharp-toothed monsters, but one catches Brooke’s eye–

“Cats!” she squeals. “How did you make them?”

Vanessa laughs. “From a soda bottle. You cut off the bottom, then paint on a face. Then you have little kittens.”

“Amazing.” Brooke meets Vanessa’s eyes, sees them shining with pride. “What else is on the tour?”

“That’s about it. Just got toys, games, computers, that kind of stuff in the corners. There’s the bathroom, but you don’t want to see that. I don’t know what people do in there.”

“This was a great tour,” Brooke says. “You know, I could give you a museum tour sometime, if you want,” she offers, hoping she hasn’t overstepped, hoping Vanessa says yes.

“Okay!” Vanessa yells. “You can show me the dinos! Like those cera-tips!”

“Triceratops,” Brooke corrects gently through a snorting laugh. She tries not to snort when she laughs because it sounds ridiculous, but Vanessa draws those laughs out of her like nothing, grinning each time.

“That’s what I meant.” Vanessa is still laughing as she leads Brooke outside, and Brooke’s chest hurts as she says goodbye. It could just be heartburn. That’s probably it.

She has to do an awkward run/walk to get to work on time, but it’s worth it.

—

“V, are you listening?” A’keria asks.

Vanessa is not listening. Not after the picture Brooke just sent: a selfie of her with a giant grin on her face, next to the T-Rex skull. She’s so carefree and happy, and Vanessa’s brain can’t focus on anything else.

“Something about hot sauce?” Vanessa tries, setting her phone down.

Silky sighs. “We already talked about that! We’re talking about A’keria’s date.”

“Oh.” Normally Vanessa would be fully in that conversation, planning hair ideas and discussing outfits. But Brooke keeps occupying a larger and large space in her head, and Vanessa forces her out for right now to be with her girls.

“She’s too busy texting Brooke.” Damn A’keria’s sixth sense. She latches on to any hint of relationship stuff like some sort of Cupid, and any fragments of Brooke that Vanessa ignored come rushing back in a green-eyed, snort-laughing tide.

“What are you two doing?” Silky demands.

Vanessa’s face burns. “What do you mean?”

“Just that you text a lot,” A’keria jumps in calmly. “And you asked her to be your fake wife for the carnival even though you didn’t need to.”

Vanessa shrugs, trying to brush everything off. “We’re friends. She’s fun to be around. I just thought she might like the carnival, and I can keep Paul off my back.”

She tries to convince herself that’s true, that this is nothing more than friendship and strategy and convenience. Another appearance to stick it to Paul, make everything undeniable before they call it quits. The way her heart speeds up around Brooke has nothing to do with it.

“Sure,” Silky says, clearly unconvinced. “When are you going on your museum tour?”

Vanessa groans. “I can’t go too early or I’ll look weird. Maybe Thursday.” She liked her school field trips to museums, liked not being trapped at her desk, even if she got in trouble for going to the Viking exhibit early because her class just took too long in the nasty bug room.

Vanessa wonders how she’ll make it three days until she sees Brooke.

—

Museums have been home to Brooke since she was a kid. Everything was neat and orderly, the way she kept her bedroom, with a place for everything and everything in its place. It was soothing to be around so much knowledge, and she begged her mom to take her every weekend, the day usually ending with Brooke being pulled from the gift shop after trying to buy a life-size stuffed dinosaur or astronaut food with her allowance. (She’s tried astronaut food since then, and what a disappointment).

A kid gasps in surprise when they see display plaques at a child’s eye-level, and Brooke beams. She did that her first day, because she remembers standing on tip-toes and straining her neck to see things meant for grown-ups, when she wanted to see it for herself. There were times as a kid it felt like the whole world was made for other people, people who could kiss in school without fear of being called wrong, people who knew how to make friends, people who could be part of things instead of watching.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a voice begins. Those words usually have Brooke on the defensive, preparing to be yelled at by some visitor for God knows what. But she knows that voice, and she spins around and laughs.

“I’m here for my tour!” Vanessa announces. She’s in jeans and a bright red shirt, rose-shaped hair clips nestled in her waves, and Brooke is mesmerized.

“Right.” Brooke can’t help it as she stands a little straighter, clears her throat. She loves tours, loves the chance to share her knowledge, to tell people facts—did you know a stegosaurus could weigh up to 7,000 pounds?—she used to be teased for knowing. Even though she doesn’t do regular tours like the tour guides, she’s used to showing around special groups or workers from other museums visiting on business. Yet for all the guests wrapped in fancy degrees and fancier job titles, none are as special as the one in front of her, and Brooke wants to give her best tour ever.

“So, dinosaurs first emerged about 240 million years ago…”

They continue through the museum, past glittery gold Egyptian tombs and recreations of delicate vases and ferocious animal models. Vanessa goes wild in the Viking exhibit, maybe because the replica ship reminds her of a pirate ship, and Brooke tells her any details she remembers from history classes and museum presentations.

Vanessa poses for pictures in front of the ship, her smile dazzling, and Brooke wishes the picture was hers. Hers to look at whenever she wants, to remember today and know they shared something special. But she gives Vanessa her phone back, because they aren’t a real couple, and she has no right to ask Vanessa to send them to her.

“That was amazing, Brooke,” Vanessa praises when they’re done, and the blush creeps into her cheeks.

“I’m happy you liked it,” Brooke says honestly.

“You have a gift shop here? I used to love them. I wanted to buy this Viking sword once and it cost $500.”

Brooke barks with laughter. “I was the same way! I usually wanted stuffed animals or a rocket ship.”

“You ever try astronaut food? It’s–”

“Disgusting!” Brooke finishes, and they laugh so loud people look at them, but Brooke doesn’t care, wants to be in this moment with Vanessa.

“Um, what are you doing this weekend?” Brooke asks, bringing things back down.

“Nothing,” Vanessa grumbles. “Me and A’keria live together, and we usually watch movies on Fridays, but she’s got a date so I’ll be alone. She must think it’s gonna go well, ‘cause I have to cover her Saturday shift too.”

“I’ll watch a movie with you if you want,” Brooke’s mouth blurts out before her brain can stop it. She shouldn’t have done that, they’re not dating. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean–only if you want to–”

Vanessa shushes her stammers with an eager nod. “I’d love that! We can get takeout. It’ll be fun.”

Brooke nods, her heart pounding. She’ll be inside Vanessa’s apartment, someplace much more personal than restaurants and museums. It’s part of Vanessa, and Brooke is honored Vanessa trusts her with it.

“I’ll be there,” she promises.

—

Brooke is going to be in her apartment in 33–no, 30; Brooke’s always early–minutes, and Vanessa is running around like a headless chicken. It’s not that her A’keria are messy; it’s just that Brooke is so neat, careful when they eat and clothes always perfect, and Vanessa doesn’t want to look like a slob.

She wants Brooke to see the pride she has in her place, a space she could call her own after sharing a cramped college dorm. She wants Brooke to walk in and know this is Vanessa’s home, know it’s part of her, from the cozy flannel blankets to the thrifted bookcase overflowing with childhood favorites she read by flashlight at night. Just like Brooke shared her museum home yesterday, bouncing through exhibits and pointing things out to Vanessa, she wants to show Brooke her home.

Brooke knocks five minutes early, takeout bags in hand. Vanessa is about to lead her inside when paws pad over hardwood, and suddenly Brooke is on the floor, Thackeray in her lap and Riley licking her arm.

“You two never give me that kind of welcome!” Vanessa yells.

“Guess I’m an animal whisperer.” Brooke pets Thackeray with one hand and Riley with the other, and Vanessa can’t stop smiling. Riley hates strangers, almost chewing the pizza delivery person’s pants once, but settles with people he likes. Warmth spreads through Vanessa that Riley already likes Brooke, senses all the goodness in her that Vanessa sees.

“You a something whisperer,” Vanessa mutters. She heads inside and Brooke follows, nodding in approval.

“This is a really nice place,” Brooke says. “Are those frog salt and pepper shakers?”

Vanessa cackles. “You bet they are! Found ‘em in the thrift shop.”

“I have dinosaur ones. Nina got them for me.” Brooke blushes.

“Of course you do.”

They settle on the couch with their Thai feast. Vanessa fires up Netflix, and though it’s odd to see Brooke on the other end of the couch, long legs tucked underneath her, she somehow looks right, like the couch always had room for her.

“What are we gonna watch?” Brooke asks, digging into her noodles.

“Maybe a rom-com?” Vanessa suggests hesitantly. “I know they’re cheesy as hell and ain’t real feminist-y, but sometimes it’s nice to see love as this big thing.”

“Yeah. So many married people don’t even like each other.”

“Exactly!” Vanessa yells, because Brooke gets it. “They make love a chore or something, but it shouldn’t be. Sometimes I want some big cheesy gesture or for someone to run through an airport for me. It’s better than not caring at all.”

Love can’t always be a movie, she knows that. But the idea of it, of meaning that much to someone, is what Vanessa’s always wanted. Her parents were like that, cooking together and bringing home flowers and yelling at Jeopardy! contestants, and Vanessa wants that devotion and warmth someday.

“Airports are too big. I’d run through a train station for you,” Brooke says, so dry that Vanessa whacks her with a pillow. “Seriously, a rom-com’s fine.”

Vanessa tries to find one before Brooke sees her recently watched list–a very personal thing, in Vanessa’s opinion–but she’s too late.

“She-Ra and the Princesses of Power?” Brooke asks.

“Don’t laugh!” Vanessa barks. “It’s really good. These kids at the library like it and I started watching to get activity ideas. Then I got hooked.”

Brooke’s smile is warm enough to melt ice, eyes soft and loving. “That’s really sweet. It’s nice how much you care.”

Vanessa can’t stop the pride from creeping into her smile. “I just want the library to be a good place for them, y’know?”

“Yeah. I try to do the same at the museum.”

Vanessa’s heart warms at how much Brooke cares, just like Vanessa cares.

There’s ten minutes of scrolling and countless insistings of ‘you can pick’ before they finally start About Time. Vanessa likes having Brooke there, an anchor on the couch, laughing and sharing the movie with her, even though she doesn’t need tissues at the end like Vanessa.

“You don’t cry at movies?” Vanessa asks.

“Not a lot.”

“Look me in the eyes and say you didn’t cry over Marley and Me.”

“Of course I did! That’s different.” Brooke leans in, air around her suddenly serious, like she’s about to share something private. “I cried a lot when I was little. When someone took my things, when we had to leave my grandparents’ house, you name it. Then I got embarrassed and kinda outgrew it.”

Vanessa nods. “I was a yeller. My mom said people could hear me in Alaska.”

“I believe it.”

“Hey! At least people can always hear me at parties and stuff!”

“Even parties in Alaska.” Brooke snorts. “Speaking of parties, my parents loved you. They’ve been telling me all week how great you are.”

“You’re kidding.” Vanessa wants to believe it, but she can’t. Not after the disaster parent meetings she’s had.

“I’m not.”

“They really said that about me?”

“You seem surprised.” Brooke’s words are part statement and part question, leaving it up to Vanessa how things go. Vanessa hesitates, because she doesn’t do this. She doesn’t let things bother her, doesn’t let people’s opinions change her confidence. She’s enough, and she knows it. Brooke doesn’t need to hear this, but her eyes are warm and inviting, and maybe it’s good to talk about it.

“Parents don’t usually like me,” Vanessa admits, picking at a loose pillow thread. “They want someone fancy and proper and that’s just not me. My last girlfriend’s parents told me I wasn’t good enough for their daughter.” A stray tear falls and Vanessa reaches for a tissue, but Brooke is already offering one.

“Hey,” Brooke says softly. “You’re smart and funny and caring and beautiful. You’re more than enough, Vanessa.”

Vanessa nods through her sniffle, not trusting her voice when Brooke is being so kind, so tender.

“Can I hug you?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa throws herself in Brooke’s arms. She lets Brooke hold her, her tears washing away with the soothing scent of Brooke’s tea tree shampoo, the steady beat of her heart beneath Vanessa’s ear. Vanessa gives amazing hugs, everyone tells her so, and Brooke matches her skill, squeezing gently, hands resting on Vanessa’s back. Brooke’s arms are the coziest, safest blanket and Vanessa never wants to leave them. She could live in Brooke’s arms, make a home nuzzled against her chest.

She forces herself to pull away, looking down at the couch. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” There’s an awkward silence, then Brooke stands. “I should go. You have to work early tomorrow, right?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I gotta get up at the ass-crack of dawn.” She sighs. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Brooke grimaces. “Babysitting. My sister has this dinner thing, and I told her I’d take the kids.”

“Yikes.” Before Vanessa thinks it through, she’s speaking again. “You want help? Two kids is a lot by yourself.”

“I’m fine. I don’t want to bother you–”

“Let me help, Miss Thing!” Vanessa suddenly wants to, would rather spend the night with Brooke and the kids instead of her TV and a bag of chips.

“Okay, okay.” Brooke holds her hands up in surrender.

Vanessa grins. “Coming at you tomorrow, the Mateo-Hytes babysitting crew!”

The echo of Brooke’s barking laugh soothes Vanessa to sleep that night.

—

Brooke knows they’re well past their agreement. This was supposed to be two events and done, back to their normal lives where fake dating is the stuff of rom-coms. But throw in the thrifting, and the lost lipstick, and the movie, and now Brooke is at the mob scene that is a Saturday afternoon grocery store buying brownie mix because Vanessa suggested making brownies with the kids tonight.

It’s almost like she and Vanessa are two boats being tossed about in each other’s paths. Even though they didn’t intend to keep doing things after the agreement ended, they somehow still are. Sure, Brooke didn’t have to suggest movie night, could have refused Vanessa’s babysitting offer, but she didn’t want Vanessa to be alone, and considering her last babysitting experience resulted in deep-cleaning the living room rug, she could use the help.

There’s also the bonus of seeing Vanessa again. Brooke doesn’t know what they are, exactly, and even though most of her life is spent classifying, assigning order to things, maybe she can be okay with the uncertainty. All she knows is that Vanessa makes her laugh more than anyone, understands the things she says and even the things she doesn’t, makes her happier than she’s been in a while. Vanessa is special, that much she does know, and Brooke will take any second she can with her.

It’s been nothing but work for months, every second spent on the T-Rex exhibit. There’s no room for the giggling Brooke does around Vanessa when she’s one of the only women at the museum, where board members think she’s too forgiving of interns, too focused on kids. She forgets all that around Vanessa, her muscles loosening up, carefree and excited like a kid on summer vacation.

She throws brownie mix in her cart and motors down the aisles, dodging screaming kids and middle-aged ladies fighting with employees. She’s back home just before the kids arrive, bouncing with excitement over being at Aunt Brookie’s. Brooke sets them up in the living room with their toys and starts on dinner.

Someone knocks and Brooke runs to the door, revealing a cheerful Vanessa who makes Brooke’s heart skip a beat.

“Where’s the babies?” she asks, gathering her hair into a ponytail. Brooke can’t stop staring at the curves of her hands, how quickly her fingers move, twirling around her hair with ease.

“Kids are in the living room.”

“No, the kitties!”

“Oh.” Brooke nudges the cats out of her room and Vanessa gets on the floor with them, nuzzling their fur and cooing.

“Apollo’s kind of mean around new people, don’t worry if he doesn’t like you,” Brooke says, but Apollo is letting Vanessa pet him, which is damn near a miracle. He must really like Vanessa, and Brooke agrees with his judgement.

Vanessa finally stands and surveys the kitchen, and Brooke tries to see it from Vanessa’s eyes, hoping she likes it. There’s the tiny green floral rug by the sink bringing the outdoors to her. The cozy kitchen table where she drinks her morning coffee. The row of succulents on the window sill that Brooke made a watering schedule for, determined to get them through the dry summer.

“It’s cozy here. I like it,” Vanessa says, peeking at the pot of boiling water. “What we got cookin’?”

“Mac and cheese.”

Vanessa sighs in content, then raises one adorable eyebrow at the blue box on the counter. “Oh no, Mary! You gotta make it homemade!”

Brooke’s cheeks redden. “I-I’m not good at cooking, okay? I’m always afraid I’m doing stuff wrong, so I don’t do it.”

Cooking should come easy to her, because she likes following instructions, crossing things off lists, but it doesn’t. She doesn’t have the instinct for it like she does other stuff, like picking out good digging spots and identifying the fossils and rocks underneath, or using her surroundings to get home on a new hiking path. With cooking, she can’t get the motions down, never knows if she’s chopped things correctly, gets so worried about undercooking that she overcooks.

Vanessa’s expression softens, her gaze caressing Brooke like a warm blanket. “Hey, I’ll help you, okay? We’ll do it together.”

Brooke nods shakily, letting Vanessa show her to cook the flour and add the milk, stirring the cheese in carefully. Vanessa’s floury hand brushes against Brooke’s on the spoon, and Brooke almost drops it once the warmth of Vanessa’s skin hits her. Half an hour later, Brooke looks down at the finished dinner and smiles in disbelief. They made this, her and Vanessa, and Vanessa talked and joked all the way through it, kept Brooke calm, and now they have this dish of golden breadcrumbs, gooey choose, and warm pasta to show for it. It’ll be devoured by ravenous kids soon, but it doesn’t erase that they made this. Together.

“We really did it,” she whispers.

“Food Network, here we come,” Vanessa giggles.

—

Dinner and brownies devoured, Brooke and Vanessa join the kids on the Barbie-and-Lego-strewn rug. Watching kids play is something special, the way they can go for hours with wild imaginations. It reminds Brooke of her hours playing explorer with stuffed animals, free from the kids at school who teased her for being too quiet and too smart. Vanessa’s eyes glimmer and Brooke wonders if she’s reminiscing too.

Sophie has her Barbie and Ken dolls contorting in unhuman ways to kiss, and Brooke and Vanessa snicker.

“Aunt Brookie,” Sophie asks, “Do you and Ness kiss like my dolls?”

If Brooke had water, she would spit it out. Instead, she chokes on nothing but air and Vanessa whacks her on the back.

“Um, yes, we kiss, Soph,” Brooke manages when her breath returns. Don’t think about kissing Vanessa. Don’t think about her pink lips.

“At home,” Vanessa adds with a wink.

Sophie nods, and Brooke thinks they’re safe, just another bout of a kid’s curiosity. Then Sophie chants, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”, nudging Sam and getting him to join in like only an older sister can, and soon they’re shouting.

She turns to Vanessa and freezes. The kids are at full volume, and Brooke’s sure to have angry neighbors. One little kiss will be enough to quiet them before complaints roll in. They’re still just friends, it’s no big deal. Brooke can’t deny the curiosity rising in her, the way her body is creeping forward ever so slightly. Are Vanessa’s lips as soft as they look?

Brooke looks at Vanessa with the question in her eyes, and Vanessa nods. Their lips meet to a chorus of cheers and–shit.

Somewhere Brooke registers that she shouldn’t be feeling this good when she and Vanessa aren’t really together. But every other thought is on Vanessa, on the softness of her lips and faint taste of brownies, on their hearts pounding in time. She remembers they’re in front of the kids and forces herself to pull back before things go too far.

The kids move on, but Brooke is stunned. Her nose is still filled with Vanessa’s green apple shampoo. Her fingertips are tingling. Her body burns like fire.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to Vanessa.

“Don’t be.” Vanessa seems as shocked as Brooke, touching her lips like she can’t believe Brooke’s were just there, looking at Brooke like she’s never seen her before.

Brooke almost wishes the kids would demand another kiss.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #akeria davenport #branjie #lesbian au #fake dating au #if you ever wanna be in love #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission #s11

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derangedangel · 5 years

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Secret Santa - Stiles Stilinski

Summary: The pack does Secret Santa for Christmas and Stiles’ has to get you the perfect gift

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 2,175

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this is late and I’m a liar and didn’t have both imagines done on time and queued up. A bit of writers block and laziness goes a long way in writing lol. I’ll do better next Christmas.

Lydia wrote down everyone’s names and placed them in one of Scott’s baseball hats. She shook it around a little then went up to everyone so they could pick a name out. You all sat around in Scott’s living room, some more eager than the others about doing a Secret Santa. Since you were all high school kids, and only Scott had a job, some of you thought it was best to get one person in the pack a gift instead of having the pressure to get everyone a gift.

Allison went first, then Malia, Liam, and finally it came to you. You reached into the hat, digging around a moment before you pulled out a name.

Stiles.

A smile tugged at your lips but you didn’t want to get to excited in front of everyone. You knew the perfect gift to get Stiles.

Lydia continued around the room until there was one left for her. Luckily, no one pulled their own names, so no one had to pull again. Lydia plopped onto the couch next to you and immediately asked, “Who did you get?”

“Lyds, it’s Secret Santa. I don’t want your smart brain figuring out who has you by the process of elimination.”

“So that means you don’t have me,” Lydia nodded with a smirk on her face.

“I didn’t-,” you started to say but Lydia gave you a look and you knew it was too late. “Fine, I don’t have you. Happy now?”

“Yes, that narrows down my potential gift givers.”

Meanwhile on the other side of the living room Scott got up to grab some cold sodas from the kitchen. Stiles quickly hopped over the couch to follow him.

“Are you Y/N’s Secret Santa,” Stiles asked when they were alone in the kitchen.

“You do understand how Secret Santa works, don’t you,” Scott asked opening up the refrigerator.

“I’m not an idiot, but I needed to get Y/N. It’s a crucial part of my make Y/N fall in love with me plan.”

“Exactly how is you getting Y/N a Christmas gift important to that plan,” Scott asked leaning against the counter. He had what he came to the kitchen for but he wanted to hear what his best friend had to say.

“Alright, so I get her the perfect Christmas gift. She gets all emotional and happy about it. She realizes I really know who she is as a person. I actually listen to her. Then she looks at me as potentially being more then just a friend. Then I ask her out and she doesn’t say no,” Stiles answered, his hand finally landing on his hips from them previous moving around a lot as he talked.

“Why don’t you just ask her out? I’m pretty sure she won’t say no,” Scott said picking the sodas back up and turning to walk away.

“I can’t just ask her out,” Stiles said offended.

As Scott began to walk out his kitchen, a crumbled up piece of paper fell out of his pocket. Before he could lean down to pick it up, Stiles swooped in and grabbed it.

“Ha,” Stiles yelled after he opened the paper. “You did have Y/N,” he said trying to whisper. Although you weren’t a werewolf, he preferred if the other wolves and one coyote in the room didn’t hear him.

Scott sighed as he shook his head. “Go ahead and take it.” Scott moved all the sodas to one arm and reached out to Stiles. “Give me whoever you got.”

Stiles reached in his pocket and handed over the slip of paper to Scott. “I’m sure Liam will love whatever you get him,” Stiles said then patted his friend on the back before making his way to the living room.

After everyone settled from finding out who they were getting a Christmas gift for, Scott popped in a movie.

Stiles was beginning to think getting you the perfect Christmas gift was impossible. He couldn’t just get you any regular old gift. Nothing from Bath and Body Works. No DVD box set of the complete series of your favorite show. A gift card wasn’t meaningful. It had to be special. Something sentimental. Something he could afford.

When Stiles finally realized what to get you, it almost seemed impossible to get. But werewolves were impossible too right? Stiles was very stubborn and determined when he wanted to be and this was one of those times.

The gift he wanted to get you couldn’t be purchased at any old store. He checked Amazon and Ebay. He searched local pawn and thrift shops next with no luck. He called nearby towns in between classes until he found a thrift shop three hours away with what he needed.

“Scott,” Stiles said after he ran up next to his friend in the hallway. “You want to go to Rosewood with me?”

“What’s in Rosewood?”

“Y/N’s gift,” Stiles answered smiling. He was excited that he finally found your gift and there was only a week until you all would exchange gifts.

“That’s like 3 hours away,” Scott said.

“Actually, it’s 2 hours and 40 minutes away.”

“That’s still pretty far for a Christmas gift, but I guess I’ll ride with you.”

“Great, grab your stuff.”

“What,” Scott asked looking at Stiles confused.

“I was planning on going now.”

“Now? We still have 2 hours left in school. Can’t it wait until the weekend?”

“No, Scott. The guy who answered the phone said he wouldn’t hold it for me and I have to get it before someone else does first.”

“Don’t you think we miss enough school already without us leaving to go pick up a gift,” Scott said closing his locker.

“Yeah, but this is really important. It’s the only place that I’ve found nearby that has what I need.”

“Three hours isn’t exactly nearby,” Scott pointed out.

“Okay, it could be a little closer. But I’m going right now and I thought maybe my best friend would want to accompany me on this possibly historic journey that is the future of me and Y/N.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Scott said shaking his head beginning to walk down the hallway. “I’m not missing class, but if you have to go now, just let me know when you make it there and get back. You’re jeep isn’t the most reliable vehicle for trips like that.”

“Ugh, that jeep has been there for us through everything! Don’t disrespect him like that,” Stiles said offended while Scott kept walking down the hall. He guessed he’d just have to make the almost 3 hour trip by himself. But he would drive 6 hours to get you the perfect gift.

On Christmas Eve, the pack got together to exchange gifts at Scott’s house. You all took your usual spots in Scott’s living room excited to open your gifts. It was decided that everyone would open their gifts one at a time, then the Secret Santa would reveal themself after all the gifts were open.

So far everyone loved their gifts. Stiles was blown away by your gift; a mini replica of his jeep Roscoe.

You were the last one to open your Christmas gift. The box was covered in little snowmen with a huge blue bow on it. You pulled the bow off and ripped the paper open allowing you to open the lid. Your mouth dropped when you realized what it was.

“Oh my God,” you said tossing the lid aside.

“What is it,” Lydia asked from beside you.

“It’s a teddy bear I had when I was younger,” you answered while you stared down at the bear in awe. “It was practically glued to my hip until there was a fire at my friend’s house and I left him in there.”

The whole room was quiet as you took in the gift. Stiles eagerly waited for you to say something else. That you loved it. That it was childish and you out grew the toy along time ago. Something.

You took the bear out of the box carefully rubbing your fingers through the bear’s fur. “Who did this,” you asked looking around the room at all your friends. Everyone you made eye contact with shook their head until your eyes landed on Stiles.

He was staring right back at you, his whiskey eyes shining bright as the Christmas lights in the room twinkled. “Stiles?” He nodded his head a little to answer your question. “How did you...When? I mean... they don’t make these bears anymore. My mom checked after the fire. My grandpa gave me the bear and we could never find another one.”

“I did a little Googling and called a few thrift stores around the area,” he said shrugging his shoulders like it was nothing.

You were speechless at Stiles’ gift. Lydia looked between the two of you as you gawked at him in admiration. “Alright,” Lydia said clasping hands together, her holiday red nails sparkling as she moved. “I think it’s time the rest of us revealed ourselves to our Secret Santa gift recipients.”

Stiles and you stood up in what felt like slow motion then walked over to each other.

“Stiles... I love this so much,” you said squeezing the bear in your hands while you looked at him. “I can’t believe you did this. I’m still racking my brain for when I even told you about the bear.”

“Actually, I forgot about it until I was at the hospital with Scott when he was dropping some food off for his mom,” Stiles said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I saw this little girl crying until her mom gave her this little brown bear and something in my brain clicked. I remember you mentioning it a few years ago when we had to go to the Hale’s old house. I think it reminded you of the fire at your friend’s house.”

“You’re an amazing guy, Stiles Stilinski,” you said grinning up at him.

Stiles grinned back at you like an idiot for a few moments before he spoke. “Umm I should probably find out who my Secret Santa is so I can thank them.”

“I know who it was,” you told him.

“Who?”

“Me.”

“You are? I should have guessed it,” Stiles said smiling at you. “Only you would be crafty enough to make me a scale model of my jeep.”

“So you really like it,” you asked not sure if he was just pretending like he liked his gift when he opened it.

“I love it. It’s amazing.”

“Great,” you said grabbing his hand. “I was a little worried my gift was going to suck,” you said slowly taking a step back making Stiles follow you.

“I’d love any gift you’d give me because it’s from you.”

Your smile grew three times bigger than it already was as you kept stepping back. “So it seems like we both know each other pretty well based off our gifts then.”

“I’d like to think I know you pretty well.”

“You do,” you said finally stopping. “But I think there’s still somethings about me that would surprise you.”

“Like what,” Stiles asked.

You stepped closer to Stiles and moved quickly before your nerves got the better of you. Your fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Stiles’ lips collided with yours, his minty breath mixing with your winter fresh one. Ignoring the stares you knew were coming from your friends, you wrapped your other hand around Stiles, deepening the kiss.

Pulling away slowly, your eyes stayed closed briefly as you hoped you hadn’t misread any of Stiles’ signals.

‘Umm,” Stiles said blinking a few times, “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

Your hands fell from Stiles neck to his shoulders. “For remembering something I said forever ago. For finding a teddy bear that I had when I was child. For going out of your way to get the bear because I know when you said you called a few stores, you meant you searched high and low until you found it,” you said then paused as you gazed into his eyes. “Also because we’re under the mistletoe.”

Stiles looked up finally noticing that the two of you had moved under the entrance way where the mistletoe had been placed by Melissa weeks ago.

“I always liked mistletoe. Incredible plant,” Stiles said nodding as he smiled.

You giggled at Stiles before you heard a cough and turned to look at your friends who were all looking at you.

“Does this mean you two are finally together,” Liam asked. “I swear if I have to smell that jealousy scent every time Stiles see you talking to another guy I’m going to vomit.”

You turned to face Stiles, a bit of shock on your face, “You were jealous?”

“What? No, why would I be...,” Stiles blabbered looking at you then turning to face Liam. “Liam would you like to find out what happens when a werewolf ingests mistletoe?”

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf

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angel-scythe · 5 years

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Chloe : Chapter 21

Hi people!

Here I am again! This time for Chloe! I was so excited to post this chapter (and can’t wait to post the next one)

I hope you’ll love it!!

As you know, push my door or just keep reading!

| °|

8th December, 07:27

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

A soft kiss was pressed against Gavin’s cheek.

The Detective groaned and opened a lid. He then saw Connor’s soft face.

“It’s already almost seven and half a.m.”

“What?!”

Gavin got up quickly. So quickly he hit his forehead with Connor’s one.

“AOUTCH!! Fucking dipshit!”

“Your daughter is right here.”

“Sh… sheriously?”

Gavin rubbed his forehead and he moaned from pain.

“I prepared the breakfast and Elizabeth already took it. I’ll bring her to school if you want to. I already checked for the bus, there are five available to arrive in time. You can take your time to eat and go to the precinct, I’ll rejoin you there?”

“Why?”

“Because you fall asleep at five a.m. and twelve. You needed sleep.”

“You’re cute… okay. Let’s do that but don’t do it too much. It’s not your job.”

“If it’s your daughter, it became my job. A little. since I care about you.”

Gavin sat up a little straighter and kissed Connor, putting his hand on his hair, keeping him near him. He loved to feel him near him and he was sweet, adorable. And he wasn’t a bitch like the David’s bitch.

15th December, 09:02

Connor could recognize the band Fall Out Boys Gavin always listened to since he grew up with it and has a special care for it. However, he didn’t seem to enjoy the music this time. He was watching Kamski’s house. They got the appointment and for this time, he rid of Felix. They search very too much in the country for Chloe’s classmates. In fact, they obligated some to come in Detroit because it would be impossible to go at every point.

In the end, it was still the same things. Nobody seemed to have attacked the ST200s. They asked everyone they could at New-Jericho, who had to come at the precinct too, and they even had a new murder. Even with the record, Felix didn’t seem to find. However, this time, the lady was drowned and certainly by a woman. It was impossible to see correctly and with the stature, it looked like a woman.

“You don’t want to go out?”

“I don’t like Kamski.”

“You see all your classmate and you had a good behavior, as Felix said, why not this one? You didn’t look to like the others.”

“Yeah… It certainly because this fuckers had created Androids?”

“Gavin…”

Connor bent over on him and kissed him softly in the corner of the lips and he caressed his cheeks.

“You can do it.”

“Do…” Gavin frowned. “Do you doubt of me?! Do you think I need your crap?”

“Hum… Yes?” Connor smiled and bent a little more to kiss him. “You would get up, then?”

“I can but now, I guess I need a little more strength.”

“You won’t pass, you know?” Connor kissed him, feeling his hand on his nape. “Plus, we’re already late.”

“Don’t care.” Gavin kissed him and pressed him to come on his lap.

Connor replied to the sweet gesture and moved on his knees in his perfect suit. He moved the hand and pressed the button that opened the door. With a last kiss, he jumped on the ground, leaving Gavin pretty disappointed. He wasn’t impatient at all to go to Kamski’s. But seems he really hadn’t the choice. The Android already walked toward the house to ring the bell.

Gavin sighed and got out of the car. He locked it after having closed the door and walked to rejoin his partner. In both way since they were together since almost two weeks. In fact, Elizabeth wasn’t at home for this week but Connor still passed one night. Gavin didn’t let him go more to be honest, because Connor deserved to be with his dad, even if he didn’t say so explicitly. However, they got to the bathroom few times for kisses or just staying together, as long as nobody came in the WCs too. They still hoped Wilson will say nothing about them in a cabinet. And the look on their faces when they have leaving it.

Oh God, it was the lunch break and they could do whatever they wanted.

The door opened on a ST200. Connor didn’t recognize her, her mind, she should be a new one. Her hairs were short and pretty messy but in a cute way. She was wearing a warm pullover and a pretty jean in a light tone.

“You must be Detective Connor Anderson and Detective Gavin Reed?”

“Indeed,” Connor replied with a smile.

Gavin only shrugged in his dark pullover on his jeans a quite destroyed. It wasn’t for a style, looking thug or whatever. It was just worn by the time and because he wore it too much. He still has his maroon vest.

“Come, Mister Kamski is waiting for you. You’re late,” she added with a little smile.

“Yes, sorry. We needed just more time. I hope Mister Kamski won’t reproach it to us?”

Gavin sighed while the ST200 shook her head.

She moved to let them enter and closed after them. She brought them in a room. Not in the pool room but in a living room. And it was so rich. There was sixth white sofa with expensive leather. There were pictures everywhere, beautiful artwork in blue shade, sculpture and a huge TV screen. It was so big. Almost as big as Gavin’s apartment. A rich coffee table was there between the sofas. Elijah was already there and the lady came to pour milk on green ice cube.

“Can we bring you something, Detective… Reed? What you want, you’ll get it.”

“Well… one million dollars?”

Elijah laughed.

“Sorry, but no. Only drink or food if you prefer it. Connor, do you want something with thirium?”

“Thank you, Mister Kamski. I don’t know what you have?”

“I’ve a hot thiriuma with thirium cream. It’s new and you’ll love it, I think.”

“Thanks.”

“And I’ll take coffee. Anything with coffee,” Gavin said, looking the weird stuff Elijah Kamski was drinking.

“Okay. Kleopatra, please?”

“Yes, Mister Kamski.”

She bent over and then left.

“She’s nice. We saw a lot of ST200 lastly…” Connor started.

“I heard about that weird case,” the man said.

Connor was surprise because the man looked sadder than the last time. The last time he was just gorgeous, class and he had an aura and there…

“In fact, I know everything about those murders and attacks. Every one.”

“We know some of the girls whom were attacked. Some whom used to live here? Can I ask why you let them leave? You used to protect them, isn’t it?”

Elijah nodded, taking his drink to sip a little. There were cookies on the table and they looked delicious. Gavin bent over to stole one.

“Unfortunately, I did not have the chance to save every of them. The model expended more than I thought and I certainly not expected so much aggression on this model in particular.” He wringed his strange psychedelic glass.

“Why did Chloe leave?” Connor asked.

“Because when the revolution came, when the Android received rights, she wanted to discover the world. She knows it’s not because the USA agreed for the respect of Android she’ll received it everywhere but she needed to see what I talked about. What television talked about. And she asked me to leave. Why I would keep her against her will?”

“You did that because she looks like your sister, isn’t it?” Gavin asked “She was mean to replace her.”

“Not replace her,” Kamski said. “Fill the absence.”

“And now her replica just go away too?” Reed said.

Kleopatra arrived with drinks she put before the two cops. She offered a little dished with thirium-biscuit for Connor who thanked her.

“Do you ever felt anger against her?”

“Are you trying to say I’m the weirdo who attacked the ST200?” Elijah asked harshly. “I would never. I protect them.”

“Why? Because you fail to protect Chloe Kamski?”

Connor looked toward Gavin and put a hand on his wrist.

“Mister Kamski… You know what happened to Chloe Kamski, isn’t it? Your sister…”

“No. She left home one day and I never see her again.”

“Mister Kamski,” Connor said again. “Can you tell us what happened that day? Anything could help us. Felix, The RK900, and Gavin asked every of your classmates and even some of your family member and did not find it…”

“Why did she left… that’s the question?”

“Yes.”

Kamski looked troubled.

“I don’t know.”

Gavin jammed his teeth.

“You don’t know what’s happened that day? I thought you were a fucking genius!”

The man looked doubtful then he sighed.

“The day she left, it was few days after our birthday. In July, as you know it. She just turned eighteen and we were in the house I bought to my parents with the money I already made by this time. We lived with our parents but we thought about taking something else. I was working on my real first Android. The one you know as Chloe. That day, she talked with my parents in the living room. They were really angry. I don’t know why…”

“You don’t know?” Gavin cut. “She didn’t tell it to you?”

Kamski shook his head.

“She was shocked, visage covered by blood…”

“Excuse me. You joined them in the living room?” Connor asked.

“She joined me in the part of the house I used as lab.”

“Okay. Excuse me for the intervention.”

Elijah made a little gesture to say it was nothing but it seems it was. In his eyes, you could see he was quite lost in his past.

“She has the face covered by blood, nose broken and she asked me to do something. Put the parents outside, anything. I’d be glad to do it for her but I didn’t understand what happened. I asked her but she was talking nonsense. I didn’t understand…”

“As a 171 IQ?” Gavin said harshly.

“Yes.”

“What did she said?” Connor asked. “It’s important. Maybe it could help with this case.”

“I can’t remember correctly. They… hit her because if she continued that way, she’ll just proof she wasn’t human.” Kamski looked his glass, couldn’t even sip on it. “Yes… My parents call her “it” since this day and act like she is nothing. Lately, we talked about her because of Chloe, the Android, and they say my Androids were more Humans than her.” He looked up to one and the other. “I don’t understand because she is so perfect, beautiful, intelligent, warm-hearted… everything you could imagine for the perfect woman. She even used to protect me and to drive hours to come at the university see me.”

“But you didn’t help her,” Gavin said.

“I didn’t understand. I don’t understand. I said it to her and… she said she couldn’t live like that. I followed her and my parents caught her, insult her and hit her. Again and again. I tried to intervene once but my father, I think, hit me and… I don’t remember well, she just ran away and I never saw her again.”

Connor looked toward Gavin as Elijah looked really bad. It was a knowledge that, for him, his real first Android was Chloe. So he suffered really of this lose.

“You don’t know who could hate her enough to destroy everything looking like her?”

Elijah shook his head.

“She’s perfect. Who could want to kill her? You couldn’t, right?”

“I couldn’t kill someone,” replied Connor.

Gavin frowned.

“You know from the beginning that we are alive. And you know, too, that Chloe, the Android, is not your sister.”

“I know, Connor. But she was the Love of my life.”

“Okay. Let’s go. Thanks for the coffee.”

Gavin got up and went to the door. Connor frowned and got up too.

“Thank you. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” He bent a little and followed Gavin outside. He didn’t need the help of Kleopatra for that.

Outside, Gavin was ruffling his picket and took a packet. Tiny packet full of cigarettes. Without thinking twice, he closed the distance between them and snatched the box to crush it under his feet.

“What the fuck, you trash?!”

“I’m not a trash, I’m your boyfriend! And now, tell me why you did not stay? Was it the problem! You scream everywhere that Chloe is dead? Why can’t you tell to him?”

“Tss! Doesn’t want to have an Android armada on my back!”

“Gavin!”

The man was walking toward his car. He didn’t have gum with him right now, only in the glove box.

The Android followed him, letting the packet in the snow. It was snowed in fact.

“Since the beginning, I knew you were bond to this case, Gavin.”

“What?”

The cop turned to him.

“I know you’re the one who killed Chloe Kamski.”

Gavin looked him, eyebrow frowned and smirk on his lips.

“You do?”

Connor nodded.

#It's on a3 #dbh #Detroit become Human #Gavin reed #Connor RK800 #Elijah Kamski #Gavin x Connor #Gavnor #Convin #OMG #plottwist

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