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#people ofc are going to ignore a plate of white bread when there are so many cakes around
rockingthegraveyard · 3 years
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One of the things that's rough about being a creator in a fandom as big as Supernatural, is that it's so big that when you post, unless you caught the attention of someone "popular", your work gets drowned out so fast.
Not only that but people aren't great with reblogs these days so things rarely get circulated like they use to.
So you kind of have to be more okay with getting a fraction of the notes you'd get than if posting for a smaller fandom.
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jocazep · 3 years
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In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 11
Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader
Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut
Synopsis: Having grown up in the Front Sections of the Snowpiercer, you venture down the train when a rare opportunity presents itself, but the excursion quickly changes flavor when you arrive in the Tail Section.
A/N: Sooooo it's been a while... mainly because I didn't want to write the inevitable [SPOILER] of a certain character...but alas, the fanfic must go on. So here we go again...
Taglist: Now closed
Series Masterlist
Chapter 11 - Breaking Bread
“I forgot to ask,” you reached out to grab Curtis’ right arm as the gang shuffled along the green aisles of the garden section.
“What?” Curtis was too busy looking at the overwhelming plants, trees, and vegetables that he thought had long been extinct in the world. It was a beautiful sight, you had to admit, especially compared with the monotone bleakness of the tail section. So beautiful that when Namgoong opened the door, everyone’s eyes, with the sole exception of Mason’s, lit up as this unimaginable paradise was presented to them.
“That little scar on your forearm--”
“It’s nothing--” you felt his arm stiffen beneath your hand, his left hand involuntarily scratching the coat over the position of the scar. To be honest, you could barely remember what it looked like anyway. In the heat of passion last night, your eyes caught a long, even line near the elbow that looked more like the remnant of a precision surgery than a battle scar.
“All right, keep your mysterious cool guy aura then,” The scar piqued your interest, but you decided against pushing for an answer--there will be time after the matter at hand... You grabbed tighter onto his arm, tip-toeing to place your lips near his ear and whisper, “Tease.”
Curtis turned around, surprised. You didn’t need to forego all the fun, right?
“No, no, no don’t eat that--” a worker reached out to Tanya, who had picked up a tomato.
“It’s OK, just a tomato.” You calmed the worker down, rolling up your sleeve, “Here use my credit.” The worker took out the scanner, still hesitant, but obliged you. A small beep sounded and you were on your way.
“What was that?” It was Curtis’ turn to be curious.
“Well up front we have this thing called currency--” you joked, but the sight ahead distracted your audience.
You had come to the aquarium section.
Moments later, the eight of you were sitting along the sushi bar, staring at the plates of exquisite raw fish in front of you.
“So, sushi.“ Tanya took up her serving and popped it into her mouth.
“You people are lucky! This is only served twice a year, January, and July,” Mason decided this was a good time to open her mouth.
“Why, not enough fish?” Tanya quibbed dryly, as a massive manta flowed overhead.
“Enough isn’t the criterion,” You absent-mindedly took over the conversation from Mason as you poured the soy-sauce for your toro nigiri, “It’s balance--”
You lift your head to put back the soy-sauce, only to realize everyone to your right was looking your way, waiting for you to finish your thought.
“What about balance?” Curtis, sitting to your left, asked.
You whipped your head back, a quick moment as you looked at the man--he will need to know sooner or later, right?
“Be...because of that--” you pointed to the whiteness outside, the remnants of a metropolis whipping past, “the only way this aquarium was going to survive, was by becoming a closed ecological system. The number of individual units must be very closely, precisely controlled in order to maintain the proper, sustainable balance.”
“Like so many other things on this train.”
You passed a stern look to Mason, who was bitterly fiddling with the iron around her wrists.
“Whoever designed this got really lucky then,” Namgoong commented.
“Oh no, back in the first year my--” you caught yourself before the word “father” slipped out, “my friends told me they had to get rid of the fish that couldn’t fit into the food chain...”
“What, the restaurant served exclusively fish?” Curtis could almost hear Edgar’s ranting in his ear.
“Some,” You picked at the wasabi, smearing it on your sushi, “a lot of them got made into taxidermies for posterity...” It was only after the room became quiet that you realized you misspoke, “I’m sorry...It was...”
“It’s all right, it’s what actually happened,” Curtis put his arm on your shoulder, pulling you closer towards him.
You couldn’t let it go that easily of course. Remember your surroundings, you were bothered that your father’s voice rang up in your head. But the truth was you probably needed a reminder, after such a long time with the revolters, it’s easy to forget what you were really here for. Better now than later.
But it seemed the meal was just destined to go awry--no sooner had Mason picked up her chopsticks, than Curtis pulled on the chain, jerking the tools out of Mason’s control.
“No,” Curtis palmed out a protein bar, waving it in front of Mason, “You eat this. Know what it’s made of?”
Mason took it up, and threw a quick look at you, only to realize you had pre-empted her by turning your attention to Yuna sitting to your right.
“Curtis my friend, this seems uncalled for--“
“I’m not your friend, and this is 100% called for.”
”Would I be your friend if I had classified information about Wilford?“
Uh-oh. You forced yourself to turn your head--naturally and slowly--towards Curtis and Mason, “Curtis...” You lay your hand on his, and shook your head.
You could swear you saw his nostrils flare up a little, “We have had to eat this for, hell you have had to eat this for--”
“But isn’t the point of the revolt--”
“The point,” Curtis wriggled his hand from underneath yours, and flung the protein bar at Mason, “is to make them pay for what they did to us--”
“Make them pay? Weren’t we fighting for equal quality--“
“Not after what they did to Edgar--”
“How is degrading Mason any help?”
“At least I’ll sleep a little better knowing I made one front-sectioner get a taste of their own medicine.”
The words hung like leaden rings in the air, reverberating through your spine. Mason looked on, unsure how to react.
“Well,” after a long while, you finally opened your mouth, “then let that be me instead.”
Curtis, like everyone else, was taken aback. They watched as you reached out, switching the protein bar with your own sushi serving.
“Jo, that’s not what Curtis meant...” Tanya tried to diffuse the situation, but you ignored her, biting down on the brownish jelly, forcing the rubbery morsels down your throat. It tasted even worse than you remembered.
When you couldn’t stomach any more of the protein bar, you stuffed the rest in your pocket, got to your feet, and walked to the far end of the aquarium.
Curtis made a move to follow you, but Tanya stopped him, “let her blow off a little steam.” Curtis nodded, still hesitant, his eyes trailing your footsteps as they quickened the closer you moved towards the restroom.
Yuna ran past, intent on following you, but was met with the slamming of the steel door in her face. She looked back at Curtis and company, a little confused and hurt.
On the other side of the door, you were puking your guts out, eyes welling up, nose running. It wasn’t just the thought of eating protein extracted from millions of locusts that turned your stomach--the little clash had brought a stern reality check in your head: this is a revolt, and whatever the original intent, if Curtis and Co succeed, there will be suffering and chaos before any sort of balance is reached.
Guess the old man was pretty perceptive after all...you thought as you finally straightened up, wiping your face with water, trying to recall what your father had planned in case the revolt went further than the water section, only to realize Wilford had actively excluded you from that conversation.
You were wondering if he had predicted your eventual realization of the irreconcilable conflict between your visions of change and those of the revolt when a gentle knock sounded at the door. You checked your face in the mirror, forcing an air of nonchalance—you don’t want Curtis to think you had been crying, even if it was just from nausea.
“Are you OK?” It was Yuna’s voice coming through the door.
Eyes dropping a little, you pulled opened the door, “yeah, just nature calling. What’s up?”
Yuna raised the same wrinkled notebook page, pointing at the pencil-colored steel drawers.
“Yes we’ve been through this—“ Yuna pushed the paper closer to you, forcing you to take a closer look. There were shallow indents on the page, remnants of your notes when you made your way down the train.
Oh god. You panicked as you scrambled to remember what you might have written on those pages.
“Yuna, listen—“
“Guys, c’mon, we are moving onto the next section.” Tanya called out.
You nodded in her direction, and looked down at Yuna, “we’ll revisit this?” Yuna put the paper back into her pocket and followed you to join the gang.
As the two of you approached, Curtis tried to find your eyes. He wished he could say that he didn’t mean what he said, but he knew you saw the truth behind the hot-blooded words. Years of oppression had created a beast within him, and it was easy to hate the front-sectioners when they were faceless beings living in his head, or the pompous Mason. But now...
To be honest he had stopped thinking of you as a front-sectioner since well before your passionate evening together. Which makes it all the more frustrating when you chose to remind him of the undeniable fact, stirring awake the beast he thought he had put to sleep. He knows it’s not your fault—you were barely out of school when you boarded the train. And it is terribly difficult for him to imagine the courage it took for you to side with him against your family and friends—goodness he had never thought about that before. Do you still have family in the front--
His train of thought came to a grinding halt as you walked past him, determined not to look at him. Curtis felt his brows furrow further, and jerking the chain, pulled Mason forward.
“Curtis my friend, could we dispense with the chains for the next section?”
“Why?” A half-distracted answer from Curtis as he watched you push the door open with Namgoong and Grey, heading into the freezer section.
“Well, for the sake of the young, the children--“ Mason was barely finished with her sentence when you walked over, taking off your overcoat and draping it over her cuffs.
”What do you think you’re doing?“ Curtis didn’t sound too pleased.
“It’s the school section next,” you said as you strode to the front of the procession again, “kids shouldn’t be a part of this.”
The silence game between you and Curtis continued throughout the freezer section please, you walking at the front, him trailing in the back with Mason. You started fidgeting as you walked past the racks of beef and frozen chickens—maybe giving Mason your coat wasn’t such a great idea. But you were not going to give Curtis the satisfaction, so you did the only thing you could do, walk faster.
“Hey, spoiled lady, wanna slow the fuck down?” Namgoong never actually learned your name, which doesn’t really make a difference to your really...
“Sorry, I’m just not very good with cold.” You said as you slowed your steps until you were in the same footing as the disheveled security specialist.
“Then you’re fucked in this world.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, “yeah guess I am...” Then you remembered something, “Why does the Yekaterina Bridge mean so much to you?”
“What?”
“I saw you looking for something through the windows when everyone was hanging on for dear life. Must have been pretty important to you...”
A moment of silence as Namgoong stopped his steps. You kept your eyes on him, waiting for an answer. He let out a sigh, raising a hand, “you wanna swipe your implant to open the door, or should I?”
You turned your head—and see the door at the end of the section.
When the rest of the company finally caught up to you and Namgoong, Curtis noticed your fidgeting hands as they raised up to unlock the door, the fingertips showing just a tiny hint for blue. With Mason in tow, he strode up to you, taking your hand before you could retract it.
“Wh—“
“You’re freezing,” Curtis said as the lively noise of children hit you like a heatwave. Bright colors assaulted your eyes and saccharin songs flowed through the concrete doors.
“I’m fine,” you replied, your hand twitching within his grasp, but not quite withdrawing it.
“Look, I feel like an asshole for earlier...” Curtis took a pause as the rest of the company shuffled past into the school section. A pregnant lady led the children in chorus as an educational, semi-propaganda introduction of the train was blaring on the TV at the moment. Thank god you were too old for this when you first boarded.
When it was once again just the two of you hovering at the entrance, Curtis continued, “Here take my coat—” He moved to shrug off his tattered coat, but you stopped him.
“Sure this front-sectioner has had enough taste of her own medicine?”
“C’mon, I don’t think of you as a front—“
That’s not exactly what you were hoping to hear.
“But I am one,” you said as you pulled your hand free, his fingers leaving visible prints on yours, “and up to a month ago, everyone in my life is one too.”
”But now you’re with us—”
“There should be no ‘us’ or ‘them’, that’s kind of the point of all this jazz, Curtis.”
Curtis just blinked at you. You could see the idea behind your words not quite computing within his mind, a mind that had always lived in the darker part of a dichotomy. And a part of your resolution melted away.
“Let’s do this another time,” You laid one hand on his, urging him to put his coat back on.
“Sure you’re ok without the coat?”
“I’ll survive. My blood is still raging hot from our fight earlier.” Curtis was a little bummed at your joking dismissal of his concern, but he knew there was no use pushing you.
“Children, let’s say hello to our guests from the tail section...” To her credit, the pregnant teacher kept her countenance as she took in the group of torn coats and ragged shoes filing past her, Tanya and Andrew getting their grease-stained fingers on a student’s face every once in a while when they thought he resembled their sons.
“Today is the first day of the new year, so we have a special little treat,” the teacher said as a well-dressed, clean-shaven Gerald walked in, to everyone’s surprise.
Amidst murmurs of “Is that Gerald?”, your eyes glazed over, thinking about his wife back in the tail section and her broken hand. And your resolution crumbled further—surely the train could have made room for one more violinist? A cloudy silhouette of the previous violinist took form in front of your eyes—was she the first chair of the Viennese Philharmonic? You couldn’t quite recall, except for the fact that she played at the weekly fete.
You were so lost in thought, and music, to have noticed Egghead walking down the aisle, handing each child a New Year’s celebratory egg.
And then, came the most traumatic three minutes of your life.
Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Riding High
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Ch 5: Ad Nauseam
Chapter Summary: It’s Mary’s first day at school, and it doesn’t go according to plan… Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.
Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher
A/N: So from here on in we dive into the GIFTED main story line so this contains SPOILERS for the film. If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. As a Lawyer I know how long the types of cases depicted in GIFTED can take, so for that reason I’ll be spreading the storyline over a number of Months, because I find that realistic and it also fits with how I want the story to go so…just roll with it!
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 4
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September 2017
“Hey! Come on.” Frank sighed, knocking on the door that led into his bedroom where Mary was getting changed “Come on let’s move”.
“No” came the sullen reply
“Let me see.” he said a little more gently.
“No.”
“Come on, I made you a special breakfast.” Frank tried.
“You can't cook.” Mary replied, a snort in her voice. With a deep sigh Frank decided enough was enough.
“Hey, Mary, open up.” his voice was sterner and a few seconds later the door opened and Mary looked up at him. She was dressed in her new red summer dress with a white collar and blue and white flowers patterned all over it. She wore a filthy scowl on her face which Frank was trying really hard not to laugh at.
“You look beautiful.” he told her.
“I look like Disney character.” She seethed as she stormed past him. Frank watched her pass as the door to the room shut, gave a sigh and then followed her to the kitchen. She sat at the table, pulling the bowl of cereal to her as Frank set about making her lunch.
“Where's the special?” Mary suddenly said.
“What?” Frank asked, reaching up for a piece of kitchen roll to wipe a knife clean.
“You said you made me special breakfast.”
Frank leaned over and with his left hand turned the box of Special K round so Mary could see it. She rolled her eyes and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. Frank ignored her until she spoke again, her voice pleading.
“Please, don't make me go. You can keep home schooling me.”
“I've taught you everything I know” Frank replied, smearing peanut butter onto the bread in front of him.
“But I don't want to go.”
“Well... I don't want to go to work, but I do.” Frank shrugged as he fixed the sandwich together and reached for a zip-press bag to place it in.
“You don't go to work. You fix boats on the dock.”
“Okay, it's poor example.” he said, pulling the top of the bag open. “But you are still going.”
“But what about Fred?” Mary asked as Frank shimmied the sandwich into the bag and sealed it
“What about him?” Frank sighed
“You won't take care of him. You don't like cats.”
Well, she had him there. He really didn’t like cats. But Frank was ok. Frank wasn’t really a cat, he was more of a dog…
“I don't like two-eyed cats” Frank shrugged in reply “Fred is as you know, monocular.”
“Who's gonna throw him his ping pong ball?” Mary tried again.
“Fred's gonna be fine, no more argument, okay?” Frank sighed, looking at her as he pulled another sandwich bag from the box for his own. “We've discussed this ad nauseam.”
“What's an nauseam?” Mary frowned.
“You don't know?” Frank turned to look at her, leaning against the kitchen unit. “Looks like someone needs school.” Mary looked at him, an utterly filthy scowl on her face and he stared back. She sighed and turned back to her breakfast, hand propping her face up as her elbow rest on the table. Frank stood watching her whilst he threw some bread in the toaster. He felt bad, he really did but this was for the best. She needed to be normal. He felt his phone buzzing in his back pocket and, wiping his hands on his dirty work jeans, he pulled it out, smiling as he read the text from Fliss.
“Good luck with the whole School thing this morning. If she kicks off tell her no riding lesson on Saturday. Give me a call or swing by if you need me xx”
“I don’t need good luck I need a miracle, and a drink. Is 8am on a Monday too early for a beer?” he replied.
“Well, it’s afternoon somewhere in the world Sailor ;-) “
Gave a chuckle as he put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Mary who was watching him, a knowing look on her face.
“What?”
“I know that was Fliss.” she said.
“How?”
“Because you’re smiling, the way you always do when she messages you.” “Well we’re friends…we like talking to one another. Something you might understand after you make some at school.” She scowled at him again and he ignored her, shoving the last bit of his breakfast into his mouth before he looked at the clock.
“Finish up, it’s nearly time to go.”
With a grumble Mary ate another mouthful before she slid off her chair. Frank packed her lunch into her rucksack before he handed it to her. With another scowl she place her arms through the straps and then together they walked out of their home.
“Just remember that today, those kids in your class, they’ve probably haven’t learnt even half as much as you.” Frank said, looking at her as they walked down the path. “So try not to show off ok?” “I can’t even use what I do know?” “No I’m not saying that, just, don’t make it so obvious ok? It will make people ask questions about why you know so many things and...” “AM I not supposed to know them?”
“Honestly, no, you’re seven.” Frank shrugged. “But you’re smart, you know this.”
She remained quiet for a second before she sighed “Ok, I promise I won’t show off.”
They reach the end of the path and then walked across the grassy area between two of the other prefabs just in time for the bus to pull to a stop.
Frank watched Mary as she stood looking at it as the doors swung open.
“This is gonna be fun.” He said, watching the back of her head “You're gonna meet kids today that you’re gonna borrow money from for the rest of your life.”
She didn’t reply
“Come on.” he urged gently, gesturing her forward with his right arm, his tone somewhat softer. He watched her climb up the staps, his hands falling to his hips as he tried to think of something encouraging to say. “You’re gonna be great.”
She paused and looked back at him, her expression soft.
“You know, just...” He gave her a thumbs up, “I don't know. Try bein' a kid.”
Mary looked down as the school bus doors shut and Frank sighed. He watched her take a seat as the bus pulled off and then turned to head back to the house. He was running through his day in his head, he had a boat he needed to have a look at but didn’t think it was a major fix, few parts that type of thing. He could swing by Sandybrook later on, maybe, see if Fliss was free for an hour for lunch…
There was a rapping on a window and he stopped dead at the end of the path looking up. His eyes locking with Roberta’s as she gazed at him from out of her window. With a sigh of frustration he turned to his left and continued back towards his home another way.
“Frank! Frank, I know you hear me.” He let out an inward groan as he rolled his eyes, ignoring her completely. He walked in the door to his kitchen, shut it and then snapped the lock across to make a point. The point being ‘piss off and leave me alone’. He knew that making the point was, however, pointless because she’d just fucking unlock the door and walk in anyway. Like she always did. He grabbed the toast that had popped up whilst he had been out and threw it on a plate.
“Frank!” There was a juggle of the door handle and he turned to look at Roberta as she pulled out a set of keys.
Ignoring her completely he grabbed a mug and poured some coffee into it.
“There's still time for you to undo this nonsense. Go get in your car and go get that child.”
“Are you technically allowed to use these keys whenever you want?” He said to her, a little sarcastically as he passed her the mug. She took it from him
“How you can stand there...acting all calm and all of that making light out of this?” she asked as he took a bit of his toast “Now, go get her back before it's too late.”
“She gotta go out in the world.” Frank said as he began to tidy up the kitchen, placing the breakfast and lunch making items away “She has no friend her age, no social skills. She doesn’t know how to be a kid.”
Roberta merely watched him as he sighed and turned to face her, leaning his hip against the counter. “Two nights ago she told me that even if Germany bails out the Euro, there could still be worldwide depression.” He shook his head “I was staring at the celling for three hours.” he finished softly
Roberta wrinkled her nose a little and looked down at the floor as she shook her head softly. “I'm so worried.” she said gently, her voice cracking and it was then that Frank noticed her eyes were filling with tears. He knew she cared for Mary, she cared for him too even if she showed that less. And he got it, he did, he got exactly what she was worried about because hell, he felt the same. If people spotted Mary’s potential and then started digging it was going to cause a whole heap of ramifications. But he had to balance out the need to keep her ‘talents’ hidden and for her to have a normal life. He saw so many parallels between Mary and Diane, and frankly it scared the shit out of him. His mother had been overbearing, insisted that they were both home schooled, but when their Father had died Frank had rebelled. He’d gone out, fallen in with a  BMX riding, trouble making crowd (well, as much trouble as eight year olds could make…toilet papering houses, throwing stones at cars, that type of thing) basically stuck the middle finger up at his mother who had in the end conceded and he’d gone to school. But Diane…well, she’d been smothered and grown up so isolated with no social skills.
No, he wasn’t, he couldn’t let that happen to Mary.
He let out a sigh “Come on, Roberta. If you start crying, I will have to pretend to start crying.”
He watched as she nodded sadly.
“Hey.”
She looked up at him as he spoke.
“You know there's something you could be overlookin’.” he smiled “This could work out.”
“Maybe.” she agreed, with a slight nod and a smile “But if anybody takes that baby away...I'll smother you in yo sleep.” she warned him, her southern accent becoming stronger as she issued the threat “Morning, Fred.” she said to the cat who was led on the table. His tail swished as she rather viciously grabbed at her keys before she left the house.
With his fucking mug.
The sun was already warm and it wasn’t even 9 when Frank reached the dock, the rays bouncing off the crystal blue surface of the water. As he walked he applied a slight smearing of sunscreen to his neck, he knew that bore the brunt of the sun when he was outside and not in the lock up. Fliss had commented it on it the other day, and he had admitted  to her that when he’d gotten out of the shower the other day he noticed he was definitely sporting some amusing tan lines, both round the collar of his T-shirts and where the arms finished. It was always the same thought. Fliss had laughed, rolled up her sleeves to show him the same and pointed out it was why she spent as much time as she could on her days off by the pool trying to even it out.
Lying by the pool on a day off… Frank mused to himself, now there was a thought.
Whilst his mind was on Fliss, he pulled his phone out and dialed her number.
“Hey Frankie boy.” she greeted him “Did you manage to get her on the bus without a gun or…” Frank chuckled “It was surprisingly less trouble than I thought but…”
“You’re doing the right thing.” she assured him, and he had to smile at the fact she knew what he was pondering.
“Roberta doesn’t seem to think so.”
“Yeah, well, she’s worried but that doesn’t make her right.” Fliss said “Look, Mary is a kid. She needs to just, oh I dunno, live like a kid. You’ve done the right thing for both of you, Frank.”
“Thanks Fliss.” he smiled to himself “Think I just needed to hear that.” “Any time, look I gotta go, my 9 am is here.” “Ok, well, I thought if the invite was open I could swing by at lunch. I’ll grab us a sandwich on the way?”
“Sounds great.” Fliss said, “Just message me later.” “Sure, have a good morning Cowgirl.” She laughed “You too Sailor.”
He tucked the phone back in his pocketed and continued to head down the gangway, nodding to a few people before he hopped onto the white speed-boat he was working on, pulling the dust cover off the stripped down engine.
**** Two hours. It was a whole two hours before he got a phone call telling him to head into the school. He strode back to the house, quickly washed his hands and threw on a blue and red plaid button down over his grubby white t-shirt before he headed to go get the pain-in-the-ass.
After a number of apologies, Frank walked out of the Principal’s office with a groan. Mary skipped ahead of him, examining something in a cabinet but he placed his hand on her head and turned it in the direction she needed to walk. He pushed open the double doors, letting her go in front of him.
One hand between her shoulder he steered her away from the entrance to the school and was fishing in his pocket for his keys when he heard a voice behind him.
“Excuse me?”
He turned to see a slim, quite pretty brunette in a green and white dress hurrying towards him.
“Hi.” she said, raising her hand in greeting.
“Look it's my teacher.” Mary rolled her eyes as Frank slowed down.  “Probably wants to remind me what one plus one is.”
“Go to the car, okay?” he said, gently guiding her away with his hand.
“Hi” he repeated
“Hi.” Frank replied, removing his glasses and taking her extended hand in greeting.
“Sorry to yell at you and then chase you down.” she apologised.
“It's okay. Mary's teacher?” he asked, releasing her hand.
“Yes. I'm Bonnie Stevenson”
“Frank. How are you?” he said, and then before giving her chance to apologise he sighed “Sorry about today. She got little overexcited.” he gestured to the car as Mary climbed in “It's just first day jitters.”
“Sure, yeah.” Bonnie nodded, turning to look at Mary
“We are running a little bit late actually, so we gotta get going.” Frank said, late for what he had no idea, he hadn’t made that bit up yet.
“Okay, I don't even wanna talk about that.” Bonnie shook her head “I will keep you just a minute”
“Okay.”
“I think your daughter...I think Mary might be gifted.”
Shit.
“What?” Frank feigned surprise, quite well too so it seemed.
“Yeah, today in math, she answered some really, really complicated equations and…”
“Oh, no, no, no…” Frank held his hand out to stop her as she was gesticulating fastly with her own as she continued to speak. “No, that's...it's not gifted.”
“difficult questions that a seven year old would...”
“It's Trachtenberg.” Frank cut her off easily, he could deflect this.
“I’m sorry…” Bonnie laughed, folding her arms, looking at him, puzzled.
“Jakow Trachtenberg.” Frank nodded. “Spent seven years in a concentration camp. Developed a system to rapidly solve problems.” he gestured with the hand holding his keys “It's the Trachtenberg method.”
“But she’s…I mean...she's seven though.” Bonnie said, smiling slightly, her tone still surprised.
“I learned it when I was eight.” he said, smiling “Do I look gifted to you?”
Bonnie looked him up and down and dropped her head, smiling.
“It kinda went out of note since the invention of the calculator.” Frank continued, backing away from her as he spoke, “But I can still win a drink at the bar using it.” he smiled, opening his sunglasses out. “Sorry for today. Won't happen again.”
“Okay.” Bonnie nodded as Frank slid on his shades.
“Nice to meet you…Bonnie.” he said, remembering her name.
“Frank.” Bonnie nodded again.
He drove them home in silence. His only words being an instruction for her to go change into something suitable for an afternoon at the docks before he stepped into the kitchen and remembered his lunch arrangements. With a curse he pulled his phone out and gave Fliss a quick call.
**** Fliss’ morning had been fairly busy as well. She’d given two private lessons, worked one of her horses, mucked half the block out as it was a Monday, which meant that Ellis had the day off so she mucked in, and was now going through the bookings for the week. She’d been inundated this week with requests that she couldn’t accommodate, but was contemplating putting another lesson on to satisfy the demand. Bill had told her not to be stupid, she was already teaching 6 days a week and needed to let her staff shoulder some of the responsibility before she burnt out.
“Joanne?” she called. Joanna walked in and looked at Fliss.
“How do you fancy over for me completely on a Sunday?” she asked.
“Me?” Joanne frowned.
“Yeah.” Fliss nodded “You open up, close and can run a couple of Classes. You have your teaching qualifications. I can supervise the first two weeks or so and if you’re happy after that then you can take the day completely, take 20% of the earnings as an extra. What do you say?”
“Fliss, I’d, well, I don’t know what to say!” Joanne grinned “Yeah, yeah I’d love to!”
“Good.” Fliss smiled “There’s a list of clients here, you can call back after lunch and offer them a time slot to suit you on Sunday, have a think about a lesson plan for groups and then…” “Thanks Fliss. “ Joanne smiled “This means a lot.” “You’ve earned it.” Fliss smiled “You’ve been a perfect head groom these last 6 months. Keep going and…well, we’ll see where we end up!”
Joanne beamed and nodded, heading back out onto the yard.
Fliss took a deep breath. She had spent so much of her life not in control of her career or home life, doing as she was told by John, when she was told to do it or suffer the consequences of a beating, that she had gone the complete opposite way when she had taken grasp of her own life. Her business was run by her with military precision. Bill did the books for her, but other than that she arranged everything. She was a control freak, she knew that so stepping away 1 day a week might seem like a little step to other people but to her it was a huge one. Bill had reminded her the other night that the idea had been that eventually Fliss would have a manager running the place for her which meant she could turn up to provided lessons and ride when needed. She was a long way off that yet though, but this one day off was a little progress.
Her phone started ringing and she reached over to pick it up, smiling when she saw the number.
“Two calls before noon!” Fliss grinned “I’m honoured”
“Unfortunately I’m calling to cancel lunch.” Frank sighed.
Fliss was surprised she felt disappointed. “Oh, it’s no issue.” She said, pulling a face. “Is everything alright.
“No.” he replied bluntly.
“Mary?”
“How did you guess?” he gave a low chuckle.
“She’s normally your source of your trouble. What has she done?”
“Apparently she stood up in class, and shouted at the principal to, and I quote ‘get on your phone and call Frank and tell him to get me out of here.’ I mean…”
Fliss bit back a laugh. It shouldn’t be funny, but she could picture Mary’s angry face and her arms folded across her chest. Despite her best attempts an amused snort escaped her.
“It’s not funny.” Frank deadpanned
“I know, I’m sorry but…“ Fliss cleared he throat, forcing herself to become serious.
“You now I wasn’t a perfect kid but I’m pretty sure I never got thrown out before lunchtime on my first day.” Frank sighed.
“She’s not been thrown out…just told to go home early” Fliss countered
“Well I brushed it off as first day excitement but the teacher was digging into how smart she is and…”
“Look, try not to worry.” Fliss soothed, sensing the tone of panic in his voice “Just try talking to Mary You always get the best out of her when you explain things to her.”
“Yeah, look, I better go…I need to get back to the boat yard.”
“No problem. Take care, and, just…well, listen to her Frank.”
“Yeah, bye Fliss.”
Fliss placed her phone down on her desk, and bit her lip. The morning had started off reasonably well too. She knew Frank well enough now to know that his frustration with Mary was born out of simply wanting the absolute best for her, and he was completely focused on making that happen even if Mary was not happy about it.
Fliss tapped her nails absentmindedly on the desk, trying to think of ways she could help. But other than talk to Mary, as she had encouraged Frank to do, she was stumped.
Nope, Fliss didn’t envy Frank one bit.
*****
“For the record, I didn't wanna go to the stupid school in the first place.”  Mary rambled on as she perched on a cool box, blue sun hat perched on her face as Frank finally finished his work on the engine, screwing the cover back on “And the boy in the front row acts inappropriately for someone who's a child.”
“Sorry. I'm still passively aggressively ignoring you.” he said without looking up.
“Other kids answer questions, they don't get in trouble.” Mary continued to protest.
“You didn't get in trouble for answering the questions.” Frank looked at her, still turning the screw driver, his voice taking on a tone of exasperation. “You yelled at the principal.”
Mary looked at him, shrugging.
“All right, you know what? You're gonna find this interesting.” he said, stepping back slightly, tossing the screwdriver onto one of the seats as he made his way to the cockpit of the boat “So I googled" first graders who yelled at the principal". And statistically you will never believe how many kids do it.”
He started working his way through the checks as Mary answered
“How many?”
“None.” he shot back over his shoulder as he fired up the boat, revving it slightly. He heard Mary’s footsteps as she ran down the side of the boat and stopped.
“Frank, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.” she said leaning over the edge to look at him.
“Yeah, right.” he said, shaking his head before he turned to look at her “You can't show off like that in school.”
“I know.”
“You promised you wouldn't then the first day...”
“I know, I screwed up.”
Frank looked at her, he could see she was genuinely contrite. Her head was dropped slightly. He watched her for a moment before he nodded and looked back out of the water before she spoke again.
“Do you think this boat needs a test ride?”
He looked back at her as she grinned up at him, the gap where her two top teeth had fallen out serving as a reminder as to just how young she damned well was. Like he could ever forget that, mind. Frank looked down and shoved his glasses back as they slipped down his nose and with a sigh he gave in, the way he normally did when she pulled those puppy dog eyes on him.
“Go get, Fred.”
She smiled and jumped up.
“Don't run!” he called after her, watching as she slowed to a walk for a few strides, before running anyway. He shook his head, smiling to himself at her blatant disregard for his order.
She appeared a little while later and Frank got her settled in the seat of the boat with a life vest and a blanket covering her legs, it could get a little nippy on the water for Mary, not that it bothered him.
“Ready?” he asked
She gave him a thumbs up and he pulled the boat out of the spot and headed slowly out of the harbour. Once on the open water he sped up, relishing the feel of the wind in his hair. He felt at peace on the water, something about it soothed his soul. He drove them to a stretch of beach they knew and loved, a quiet one and he drove the boat into the shallow water before he shucked off his shoes and socks, rolled his jeans up and jumped down, pushing it up onto the sand.
“Alright short stack…” he smiled as Mary grinned and stood up. She shucked off her life vest and he lifted her out of the boat before passing Fred over. He hopped back in, grabbed the parasol and a fold out chair, passing her a bucket and spade, all of which he had thrown on the boat whilst she’d headed off to get Fred, before they made their way up the beach.
Mary soon set off, digging about in the sand and collecting shells, like a normal kid her age should do and Frank settled down to watch her, occasionally glancing out into the ocean, spotting every so often the ripple of the resident pod of dolphins as they broke surface lazily. Mary was splashing around in the shallow pools on the beach, Fred by her side before she looked up and came running towards him, jumping on his knee as the birds flew down to inspect what the tide had washed in.
“You ok?” he asked.
“Yeah.” she smiled, shifting around to get comfortable. “Fred loves to watch the sandpipers.”
Fred gave a meow as if to confirm what she was saying and Frank looked down at the cat as it lounged in the shade.
“He thinks he'd like to catch one, but he'd regret it.” she continued “Fred's not a killer. He's a lover.”
She gave a sigh and leaned back into him, her back resting against his chest and Frank moved his arms as she took his left hand in both of hers, gently looking at his palm and playing with his fingers.
“Would my mom want me to go to this school?” she asked.
“I can only guess.” Frank replied, honestly “But I will tell you that she would have wanted you to have friends.”
“Idiot friends?”  Mary said, almost groaning.
“She'd want you to have compassion for others.” Frank tilted his head so he was looking down at the side of her face “Like a cat can have for a sandpiper.”
Mary paused and shifted slightly, looking down a little “But what if they don't like me?” she asked softly.
And God, if that didn’t break his heart! He swallowed and took a moment, before he looked at her.
Then they're idiots.” he said simply, and in his mind it was the truth.
Mary didn’t reply, instead she leaned back, her head on his shoulder and Frank gently wrapped his arms further around her, patting her stomach gently. They both sat in silence for a bit, Mary gently tickling the back of his hands with her own. He was just thinking about telling her they really should get back, when he felt her sit up.
“Hey, is that Fliss?”                                
Frank frowned and looked at her, “Where?”
“There, look.” He followed where she was pointing and squinted slightly. There was a woman riding a chestnut horse a little further down the beach, and it certainly looked like Fliss.
“Hang on…” Frank pulled out his phone. He dialled Fliss and as he watched he saw the woman pause and reach into her boot to retriever her phone.
“Hey…” she greeted him.
“Turn to your left.”
There was a pause and then as she did so the two of the waved. Fliss laughed.
“Be right there…”
She placed the phone back in her boot and then kicked the horse into a gallop. It sped over the sand, kicking up spray as it went and Mary giggled and jumped off Frank’s knee as she approached.
“Hi!” she beamed down at them as she pulled the horse to a stop. Frank stood up and smiled at her. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Had to take the speedboat for a test drive.” Frank shrugged.
“Test sail.” Fliss countered.
“Whatever.” Frank rolled his eyes as Mary was busy stroking Heidi’s face. “What about you?”
“Oh had a spare afternoon so decide to load her majesty up and come down here.” she smiled “It’s nice and quiet. Sometimes I see the dolphins too.” Frank noticed the way her face lit up as she said that, and he smiled.
“They’re even better up close.” Mary grinned.
“Well, one day maybe I’ll get the chance” Fliss smiled.
“I still owe you a ride.” Frank smiled and she grinned.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Fliss grinned, “And speaking of rides…” she looked at Mary and gestured to the horse.
Frank took a deep breath “seriously?”
“Come on.” Fliss said “She’ll be safe, I trust this horse with my life.” Mary, suddenly realising what was being said looked to Frank, her eyes sparkling.
“Fine…” Frank sighed, shaking his head “But drop her and I’ll kill you.”
“What do you take me for?” Fliss scoffed, removing her hat and handing it to Mary. Once she was seated in front of her Fliss held her tightly, one arm around her waist, the other in the reins and told Mary to hang on. She set off slowly at first and then with a grin kicked the horse on into a slow canter, and steered towards the sea.
“Shit…” Frank muttered, his heart in his mouth as the both cantered through the waves, the spray kicking up behind them. He could hear Mary’s shouting and laughing as it echoed up the beach. They went a little distance away before Fliss slowed down to a walk, Heidi continuing along her path steadily.
“So, I hear school wasn’t great?” Fliss said as they turned and made their way back at a slower pace.
“No.” Mary shrugged “Frank got mad.”
“Did you apologise?”
“Yeah…its ok now.” Mary shrugged “I just didn’t like it. And I don’t think they liked me.” Fliss took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you a secret, when I first started riding, the other kids didn’t like me either.” “Really?” Mary turned to face her as they wandered back, gently swaying with the horses motions.
“Nope, I came from a different back ground to them. We weren’t rich, I mean my mum and dad have money now but we didn’t always.”
“So what happened?” “I kept going.” Fliss said gently “And then I met a friend, a girl called Charlotte. She was the same. Her family sold all their belongings so she could pursue her dream.”
Heidi slowed to a stop by Frank but Fliss continued to talk “And we became good friends, and we worked hard. She did dressage, I did show-jumping. And we both grew up together, and encouraged each other, and we made the teams.”
“Are you still friends now?” “Yeah, I still talk to her now, I don’t see her as much but…” Fliss took a deep breath, the thought of the past still a bit painful. “The point is Mary, if you go in thinking that everyone is against you then believe me, it will seem that way. Maybe you should think about having an open mind and giving this a go, yeah?”
Franks eyes were hidden behind his glasses and at that moment he was kind of glad, because for some reason, there was a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes as he had observed his niece and Fliss together, the woman simply talking to Mary.
Mary pondered for a moment before she sighed “I suppose…”
Fliss smiled “Good, you’ll be glad you did.”
Mary shrugged “Maybe. Hey, you know what ad nauseam means?”
Fliss frowned and looked up as Frank gave a laugh “It means indefinitely, never ending…forever, why?” she looked at Mary. “Oh, something Frank said I’d learn at school but I didn’t.” she shrugged “But now I know, thanks.” “You’re welcome.” Fliss chuckled, as Frank helped her down. She watched her run off to pick up her cat.
“Thank you.” Frank said gently, turning to look up at Fliss.
“What for?”
“Talking to her, the way you always do. I don’t know how you do it Lissy, but you make her listen.”
“Don’t worry too much about her.” Fliss smiled “I know it’s easy for me to say but, well you always said today would be a challenge. See how she goes tomorrow.”
Frank smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck before he took a deep breath, suddenly making a decision. “I err, don’t suppose you wanna come for a drink on Friday? I’m only going to Fergs but…”
“I thought Fridays were your nights, you know where you sat at a bar, alone, all broody and mysterious.” Fliss grinned down at him.
Frank shook his head, a crooked smile spreading on his face “Yeah well, maybe I fancy a bit of company this week.”
Fliss looked at him for a moment, considering what he had said before she smiled “Ok, I got lessons until 6:30 but I can meet you there later on?”
Frank smiled “Great, it’s a date.”
Fliss arched her eyebrow and Frank inwardly cursed “I mean, not a date, but, you know, a…”
“You’re cute when you get flustered.” Fliss teased, cutting him off with a laugh “Don’t worry, Sailor, I know what you mean.”
With that she turned the horse back the way she had come and winking at Frank called to Mary. “Hey, you know when you asked if Heidi could still go really fast?”
Mary nodded.
“Well watch this.”
And with that Fliss gave the horse a gentle nudge and it erupted into a ridiculously fast gallop back down the beach. Fliss’ whoops echoed in the air as she looked back waving, and Mary ran a little way after her laughing and waving back.
****
Fliss was right. The next morning they had a little fuss but nothing drastic. Mary came home with a note about Wednesday being show and tell. Mary wanted to take Fred. So they bundled him into a cardboard box. Frank waited patiently outside until Mary was escorted back out by a classroom assistant to hand the cat back over.
“Enjoy that?” he said.
Mary nodded.
“I was talking to Fred.” Frank teased. Mary narrowed her eyes and he laughed.  “I’ll see you later ok?”
She came home a lot happier, talking to him about how the kids had asked her questions about Fred that she had answered and Frank couldn’t help but smile as she rambled on and on. Later, when he called Fliss he couldn’t stop himself from talking either and Fliss had been led on her bed, smiling at his voice as he continued to gush about his niece. Thursday and Friday passed much the same, which was why when Friday night came Frank was in a reasonably good mood, and ready to buy Fliss all the damned beer she wanted.
Fliss, however, was in a flap. Her lesson had overrun and now she had changed her outfit 3 times, finally settling on a light blue cotton knee length, sleeveless dress and brown sandals, leaving her hair loose and her make up light.  She hadn’t been out with her friends for, well, not since moving here. Sure, she’d been out with her parents and their friends but this felt different. And she was nervous.
“You look nice.” Her dad looked up as she walked into their living room. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, you sure you don’t mind dropping me?” she looked at him, “I can get a cab?”
“Don’t be daft.” Bill said, picking up his keys.
“Have a nice time, Honey!” her mum called.
Bill could tell Fliss was nervous so he made idle chit chat on the drive down to the main strip of bars and eventually pulled up outside Fergs.
“Just have fun.” he looked at her, squeezing her hand gently “And if you need me, call.”
“Thanks dad.” she smiled, kissing his cheek before she let herself out of the range rover and headed into the bar.
She glanced around for a second, looking for Frank and spotted him at a table talking to a dark haired woman, with a pretty face. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she really wanted to interrupt and was debating running back out to catch Bill when Frank looked up and saw her. Flashing her that smile that could melt her on the spot he waved her over.
"Thought you were gonna stand me up!" he grinned at her as she took a seat. "Sorry, my last lesson over ran." She answered before she smiled politely at the dark haired woman. "Hi..." "Oh, Fliss this is Bonnie, Mary's teacher." Frank introduced them. "Nice to meet you." Fliss smiled. The woman gave her a smile back and stood up speaking to her as she did so “Well, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time Frank and don’t want to eat into your date." "Oh this isn’t a date..." Fliss protested at the same time Frank shook his head "We're not..." he gestured between himself and Fliss with his hands "Fliss is Mary's riding instructor" "She horse rides?" Bonnie said, an air of surprise in her tone. "The idea was it would hopefully teach her social skills." Frank snorted. "Clearly hasn’t worked.." "Oh don't be so hard on her." Fliss jumped to the girls defence. "She's a good kid." "I bet it’s easier when you're trying to teach them something they actually want to learn, or in Mary's case teaching her something she doesn’t know." Bonnie said and Fliss laughed. "She’s actually one of the easier kids I have." She replied and Frank smiled at her comment "mind you, none of the kids give me any hassle really, it’s the adults that are hard work."
“Oh my god tell me about it.” Bonnie groaned “I dread Teacher-Parent evenings, honestly, some of them are so obtuse.” "I can imagine." Fliss grinned
"Anyway I better..." Bonnie gestured over her shoulder. "See you later Frank, and nice to meet you Fliss" "You too." Fliss nodded to he as Frank waved his hand in goodbye.
“What you drinking cowgirl?” he asked, standing up “I’ll go get em in.”
Fliss asked for a beer and sat down as he went to place their order. A few minutes later he was back, sliding the bud over to her.
“Thanks…” she took a huge drink. “I err, didn’t interrupt anything before did I?"
"No, not really." Frank shook his head "Not really?" "She errr...found out about Diane." Frank said. "Oh." Fliss frowned. "How? I mean..." "When I picked Mary up on Monday she was asking me about her background on account of her being so smart. I tried to fob her off, saying I had taught her a system, you know for arithmetic but she didn’t buy it. Apparently she’s been giving Mary a few more advanced equations to do…”
Fliss looked down as he slid the paper on the table over to him. It contained a number of formulas and algebra problems which Fliss could see Mary had completed.
“As you can see, she aced them. And then Bonnie googled the system I mentioned, and then me and up popped Diane.”
“So did you tell her the truth?” Fliss asked looking up at him, sliding the paper back.
“What option did I have?” He shrugged, folding it and shoving it in his pocket. “She came down here to call me out so I figured honesty was the best…what?" He asked when he noticed Fliss was frowning. "She came down here on a Friday night to find you?" Fliss snorted
Frank shrugged “That’s what she said.”
"How she know you'd be here?" "I'm here most Fridays...not that hard to find." "Maybe you should think about varying your routine, Sailor" Fliss grinned “And you should definitely think about varying this shirt.”
Frank glanced down at his bright yellow palm tree print Hawaiian shirt
“What’s wrong with it?” he pouted.
“What’s right with it more like.”
“Well I’m not one for corporatism.” Frank shrugged “I like to think I’m an individual.”
“Yeah, well I’m not sure planet Earth could deal with two of you.” Fliss shot back. “I can only just about cope with one…”
Frank paused before he looked at her, shaking his head with a snort as his mouth curled up at one corner “Well that’s just fucking rude.”
“Made you smile though.” Fliss grinned at him.
Frank looked at her for a moment before he felt his face split further into a grin as he looked at her. “Yeah, yeah you do…I mean did.”
He saw her cheeks flush in that adorable way they did, and he decided to save her from further embarrassment by changing the subject. It wasn’t long before they settled into an easy conversation and the events of the previous week and all worries about Mary flew completely from Frank’s mind.
**** Chapter 6
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samthemarvelfan · 4 years
Text
I Won’t Say: Chapter Three
-Of Noble Birth and Titles-
Summary: Ellaria Stark is the daughter of a king. When she is unwittingly betrothed to the King of a neighboring city, she isn’t sure how to feel. More importantly, she isn’t sure how the King will feel if he finds out the truth about her.
Pairing: James Barnes x OFC, Ellaria Stark. (Stark!Reader.)
Warnings: Royal!AU, Angst, self-doubt, mentions of alcohol, swearing
A/N: This is the turning point for these two! Good or bad? We’ll see! >:) Taglist is open!
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There’s an old Stark family saying; If you’re nothing without the crown, then it shouldn’t belong to you.
Father always said it meant that being a king, or a queen...those were just titles. Words invented to show power—not pride.
What mattered was the person beneath the crown.
Are you honorable? Kind? Do you do all you can for others without expecting anything in return? That’s how your parents raised you, and you swore long ago that you’d never let them down.
After all, they’re the ones who gave you this life. It’s your job to do something remarkable with it.
You’d been in Buchanan for nearly a week now, and thankfully, you’d gotten the hang of most of the grounds. The castle’s gardens had become a favorite place for you. It reminded you of the garden Father had planted for you on your 16th nameday all those years ago.
As for the King, you’d barely seen him. He’d send Sam or Steve to tell you to dine without him; that he had ‘work to do’. They’d relay the message with a sympathetic eye, and leave you.
You blamed yourself in part. Had you not been so frank with the king the night of the feast, maybe you could have salvaged some hope for your marriage.
“Ellaria?” Nat called, pulling you from your thoughts.
You turn to her and smile, “Sorry...I was day dreaming.”
A gentle smile graced her lips, “I was told the King would like to see you this afternoon. Lunch on the terrace.”
You and Natasha had become quite close. Sadly, Wanda needed to go back to the Iron Kingdom to comfort your sister, Morgan. She was struggling with your absence and Mother said a familiar face would help.
You laughed, “I’m rather sick of him sending other people to give me messages. Surely he knows where he could find me.” You were irritated, but not with Nat.
She placed a soft hand on your own, “This is promising news, yes? Last you’d shared, the two of you haven’t seen each other in nearly a week.”
You nod, “Through no fault of my own, I assure you. Does he think I’m some daft damsel blind to his avoidance of me?”
“Please, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure he just wants to talk about things. Maybe he’s had a change in heart.” She urged.
Nat was always looking on the bright side when it came to James. Dreaming that her friend might be coming around.
“We can only hope.” You sigh.
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Moments Earlier:
“You’re being a complete ass...you realize this, yes?” Nat asked as she entered the room with Steve.
“Not now, Natasha.” James said, laying in the middle of his bed.
“A week! She’s been here a week and you’ve managed to cast her out like she has the plague!” She shouted.
James didn’t speak.
“How can you expect your people to embrace her, if you don’t?” Steve interjects.
James stood from the bed, “I’m still king, yes? I don’t have to explain myself.”
Natasha followed him, “James, this isn’t you. Why are you being this way?”
Steve spoke up, “She wants to make this work. She wouldn’t still be here if she didn’t. The wedding—“
“I know, Steve. I know.” Bucky scowled.
James had resorted to hiding from you. Doing anything in his power to maintain the facade of disinterest; which grew harder by the day.
He enjoyed watched you float around the gardens. Looking like you had been around them your whole life—like you belonged there. He noticed how drawn to the tulips you were—specifically the white ones.
You would always sit and bask in the middays sun. Whether with a book or a quill and parchment, in those moments, you looked happy.
That made him happy.
“She doesn’t need me. She’s doing just fine...so I’m told.” He quickly covers his tracks.
James sat, slipping his black boots on.
“James...” Nat pleaded. “If you want to have a wedding, you need to attempt to bond with your future wife. She might not need you, but wouldn’t you like her to want you?”
He stayed seated, but looked up to his friends.
“She’s not the enemy, Buck.” Steve said.
James nodded thoughtfully. “Fine. Tell her we will dine together. Lunch, on the terrace. The one overlooking the gardens.”
Nat smirked softly at her friend, “Getting to know what she likes, are we?”
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You sat on the terrace, dressed in one of your favorite gowns. One your mother had commissioned for your 21st nameday. Though it was older than most of your others by now, it was still one you treasured.
The maids brought out trays of foods. Fruit, cheeses, and marmalade. Breads and wine and these buttery pastries that were to die for! If there was one thing you realized, it was that there was no shortage of cooks in Buchanan.
The wrought iron and glass door opened, as you nibbled on some toast. Sam walked through, followed swiftly by James.
“I’ll leave you.” Sam said, “Your highness.” He bowed, earning a smile from you, before retreating and closing the doors.
You looked out into the gardens, attempting to show the King your disinterest in presence, but you failed. Why is it that anytime you tried to ignore him, you couldn’t?
“Hello, Princess.” He greeted, before sitting across from you.
“Your majesty.” You greet evenly. Not wanting to seem hopeful.
“Are you well?” He asked genuinely, leaning back in his chair, taking you in.
You reach for your cup, and sip your wine. “I am. Why the sudden interest in my well-being?”
He smirked softly, “Despite what you think, I care about your comfort. Have you gotten to know the castle a bit better?”
You nod, “I think so. Though there’s a corridor in the east wing I’ve not been able to get past. Why?”
The smile fell from his face, and James sat up straight. “No one is allowed there. Not anymore.”
You nod, understanding. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
It must have been his parents quarters. No wonder it’s been sealed off.
James face softened slightly, “Don’t be sorry. It’s just something I don’t wish to discuss. Not with you.”
“Oh.” You whisper. You reach for another piece of bread, as does James. You slather yours with clotted cream, and reach for your favorite jam.
James reaches for the same jar, and your hands touch for a moment, sending heat up your arm and straight to your cheeks.
You smile coyly, “The plum jam is my favorite.”
He smirks, almost laughs. “It’s mine, too.” He say, picking up the jar and handing it to you.
Once you’ve made your plate, you sit up a bit, signaling for his attention. “Why are we here, James? Why did you need to see me? After all this time...”
He sipped his cup, and placed it down gently. “I wanted to discuss the parade this evening. You and I will ride together in our carriage, and simply wave and greet the people. It’s to show our citizens their future queen.”
You smiled, “Well that sounds lovely. Thank you for thinking of me”
He nodded, “I’m sorry for being so distant.” He says sincerely, but looking at the floor.
James doesn’t offer an excuse, why would he? The King doesn’t need excuses. His apologies would suffice.
For now.
“I’ve had a gown brought to your rooms. You will be a Barnes soon enough, it is time for you to start to wear our colors.” He said proudly.
You feel the heat rise to your cheeks again. “T-thank you, your majesty. I look forward to it.”
He stands from the table, knocking on the door to his left. The door opens, held for him to exit through.
“I will see you tonight, then.”
You nod.
With that, he leaves you.
Perhaps Nat was right. Maybe there is hope to be had, yet.
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“Am I to do anything else?” You ask Steve as he walks you to your carriage.
He shook his head, “No. The people simply wish to see their future Queen, their hearts will be full knowing what lies ahead of them.” He smiled.
“Why are you so kind to me, Steven? What have I done to deserve it, hmm?” You ask with a playful voice.
Steve laughed, holding out a hand for you to step into the white coach. “You’re here. Simply that, and you’re putting up with my stubborn-as-a-mule pal over there.”
He nodded his head toward the tunnel James emerged from. He was dressed in a navy tunic, and tan trousers. His sword placed just-so on his hip, sheathed in an elaborate stitched leather cover. Atop his head sat a beautiful crown. The crown of a true king.
“Your highness.” You greet, smiling.
James turns to you before he steps into the carriage, and you hear his breath catch in his throat. You watch as his eyes take you in, was he disappointed? You certainly weren’t.
The dress he’d sent for you was stunning, and beautifully crafted. Any woman would be proud to wear it.
He shakes himself from his trance, and steps up, taking his seat next to you.
“Thank you for my gown.” You whisper as the coachman starts the horses toward town.
James doesn’t look at you, not even a side glance. “It was no trouble. You needed more suitable gowns.”
Your smile falters, is that why he did this? You’d never had someone question your taste of dress
As town grew closer, you could hear the crowds of people cheering and clapping. All of whom were eager to see their future queen; to see you.
“Please don’t let them be disappointed, too.” You whisper to yourself.
James heard you. He must have, because he glanced at you for a moment, an apologetic look on his face, before looking ahead once more.
As you rounded the corner to the main street, the crowds grew louder. Guards walked along the sides of your carriage, Sam in front, Steve following behind on a carriage of his own.
The people were happy and smiling, all cheering for you.
“Princess! Princess!”
“She’s beautiful!”
“Our savior is here!”
“Long live the Queen!”
Your heart fluttered, these people were showing you nothing but love, and gratitude. Something your betrothed hadn’t shown once.
“Wave to our people, Princess.” James instructed with a smile on his face.
You raise your hand and offer a soft wave at the crowds lining the streets, and smile. The people were waving flags and fawning over the royal court.
It was when you were nearing a turn that you noticed a little girl, no more than 7 or 8, panicked and crying in the crowd. She was looking for something—someone, and was getting jostled by the people she’d been mixed in with.
Panic rises in your throat. “Stop the carriage!” You shout without thinking.
The coachman stalls the horses, and you move to get out.
“What is the meaning of this?!” James yells at you in a hushed tone.
You ignore him, and instead, rush to the little girl. People giving you space as you approached her.
“Hello,” you smile, crouching down in your gown. “I’m Ellaria, what’s your name?”
She sniffles, trying to stop her tears. “Daisy.”
You smile softly, stroking her cheek. “What a beautiful name. Are you alright? Are you looking for someone?”
She nods, tears filling her eyes once more. “My mother, I can’t find her. I told her I wouldn’t leave her, but there’s so many people. I only stopped for a second—“
“Shh, shh. It’s alright,” you hug her gently. “You’re safe. We’ll find her. I bet you she’s so worried about you.”
Daisy nodded.
“Sir Samuel...” you called for him. He appeared at your side smiling.
“Yes your majesty?” He said in a knowing tone.
You stand, pulling Daisy to your side. She cowered from the tall man in front of her. “This is my friend Daisy, and she seems to have lost her mother. I’m sure her mother is sick with worry. Could you help find her?”
Sam looked at you with pride, and to the little girl before him. “It would be an honor.” He held his hand out for her to take.
She didn’t hesitate, and soon they were walking back up the street. Searching the crowd together.
The court, the people, and the King stayed silent as you walked back to the carriage and took your seat.
James watched you, an ineffable expression on his face. The crowds suddenly erupted with applause, causing you to smile.
“Coachman, you may go.”
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How were you real?
That’s the question James kept repeating in his head over and over.
The way you stopped the parade to help one little girl. The way you knelt before her, on the streets of the city, caring not for the state of your dress or how improper it was considered.
How you introduced yourself to her by your name and not by your title. You cared not for how the people watched you, only that the little girl felt safe and found help.
He smiled sincerely for the first time in months.
And it was because of you.
“Am I interrupting?” Steve said, poking his head through the door.
James returned from his daydream, “No, not at all.”
Steve sat across from his friend, a knowing smile on his face. “Can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”
Bucky laughed, “I’m getting sick of these visits, ya know.” He jested.
“C’mon, Buck.” Steve prodded.
The king sighed, “I just...have you ever seen a woman do that? One of noble birth? Stop a whole caravan of carriages to help a little girl find her mother?”
Steve shook his head proudly. “No.”
James stood, picking up a trinket off his desk and fiddling with it between his hands “She’s so...different. I’ve never known a woman to bare their heart so freely.”
“Different is good, yes?” Steve questioned.
Bucky turned to look out his window, the one overlooking the gardens. He saw you there, sketching on a piece of parchment.
Still turned away from Steve, he smiled to himself, a large proud grin, “Yes. Yes, I dare say it is.”
Steve huffed a laugh, moving to exit the room. “Oh I came with a message by the way. You have a visitor at the gates.”
James turned around suddenly. “Who?”
Steve sighed, “Sharon Carter.”
Chapter Four: No One is Safe
Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @star-spangled-beard-burn @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide @snapcapquartet @ellen-reincarnated1967 @unlistedpond @my-drowning-in-time @supernaturalwintersoldier @kimvmarvel @roseboho @winterboobear11 @choicesloversstuff @disaffectedbarnes @igothroughphasesalot (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)
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Riding High Ch 5: Ad Nauseam
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Chapter Summary: It’s Mary’s first day at school, and it doesn’t go according to plan…
Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.
Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher
A/N: So from here on in we dive into the GIFTED main story line so this contains SPOILERS for the film. If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. As a Lawyer I know how long the types of cases depicted in GIFTED can take, and I also know how fast they can be too. So for that reason I’ll be spreading the storyline over couple of months, because I find that realistic and it also fits with how I want the story to go so…just roll with it!
This is also HEAVILY Frank’s POV at the moment, as probably most of the next few bits will be but it is a fic about him in the main! As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!
Chapter Song: The Wind by Cat Stevens
Series Masterlist Main Masterlist
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September 2017
“Hey! Come on.” Frank sighed, knocking on the door that led into his bedroom where Mary was getting changed “Come on let’s move”
“No” came the sullen reply
“Let me see.” he said a little more gently.
“No.”
“Come on, I made you a special breakfast.” Frank tried again, although why he had no idea. Bribery didn’t work unless it involved a visit to Fliss or the horses.
“You can’t cook.” Mary replied, a snort in her voice. With a deep sigh Frank decided enough was enough.
“Hey, Mary, open up.” his voice was sterner and a few seconds later the door opened and Mary looked up at him. She was dressed in her new red summer dress with a white collar and blue and white flowers patterned all over it. She wore a filthy scowl on her face which Frank was trying really hard not to laugh at.
“You look beautiful.” he told her.
“I look like a Disney character.” She seethed as she stormed past him. Frank watched her pass as the door to the room shut, gave a sigh and then followed her to the kitchen. She sat at the table, pulling the bowl of cereal to her as Frank set about making her lunch.
“Where’s the special?” Mary suddenly said.
“What?” Frank asked, reaching up for a piece of kitchen roll to wipe a knife clean.
“You said you made me a special breakfast.”
Frank leaned over and with his left hand turned the box of Special K round so Mary could see it. She rolled her eyes and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. Frank ignored her until she spoke again, her voice pleading.
“Please, don’t make me go. You can keep home schooling me.”
“I’ve taught you everything I know” Frank replied, smearing peanut butter onto the bread in front of him.
“But I don’t want to go.”
“Well… I don’t want to go to work, but I do.” Frank shrugged as he fixed the sandwich together and reached for a zip-press bag to place it in.
“You don’t go to work. You fix boats on the dock.”
“Okay, it’s a poor example..” he said, pulling the top of the bag open. “But you are still going.”
“But… but what about Fred?” Mary asked as Frank shimmied the sandwich into the bag and sealed it
“What about him?” Frank sighed
“You won’t take care of him. You don’t like cats.”
Well, she had him there. He really didn’t like cats. But Frank was ok. Frank wasn’t really a cat, he was more of a dog…
“I don’t like two-eyed cats” Frank shrugged in reply “Fred is as you know, monocular.”
“Who’s gonna throw him his ping pong ball?” Mary tried again.
“Fred’s gonna be fine, no more argument, okay?” Frank sighed, looking at her as he pulled another sandwich bag from the box for his own. “We’ve discussed this ad nauseam.”
“What’s an nauseam?” Mary frowned.
“You don’t know?” Frank turned to look at her, leaning against the kitchen unit. “Looks like someone needs school.” Mary looked at him, an utterly filthy scowl on her face and he stared back. She sighed and turned back to her breakfast, hand propping her face up as her elbow rest on the table. Frank stood watching her whilst he threw some bread in the toaster. He felt bad, he really did but this was for the best. She needed to be normal. He felt his phone buzzing in his back pocket and, wiping his hands on his dirty work jeans, he pulled it out, smiling as he read the text from Fliss.
“Good luck with the whole School thing this morning. If she kicks off tell her no riding lesson on Saturday. Give me a call or swing by if you need me xx”
“I don’t need good luck I need a miracle, and a drink. Is 8am on a Monday too early for a beer?” he replied.
“Well, it’s afternoon somewhere in the world Sailor ;-) “
He gave a chuckle as he put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Mary who was watching him, a knowing look on her face.
“What?”
“I know that was Fliss.” she said.
“How?”
“Because you’re smiling, the way you always do when she messages you.” “Well we’re friends…we like talking to one another. Something you might understand after you make some at school…” She scowled at him again and he ignored her looking up at the clock.
“Finish up, it’s nearly time to go.”
With a grumble Mary ate another mouthful before she slid off her chair. Frank packed her lunch into her rucksack  before he handed it to her. With another scowl she place her arms through the straps and then together they walked out of their home.
“Just remember that today, those kids in your class, they probably haven’t learnt even half as much as you.” Frank said, looking at her as they walked down the path. “So try not to show off ok?” “I can’t even use what I do know?” “No I’m not saying that, just…don’t make it so obvious ok? It will make people ask questions about why you know so many things and…” “AM I not supposed to know them?”
“Honestly, no, you’re 7.” Frank shrugged “but you’re smart, you know this.”
She remained quiet for a second before she sighed “Ok, I promise I won’t show off.”
They reach the end of the path and then walked across the grassy area between two of the other pre-fabs just in time for the bus to pull to a stop.
Frank watched Mary as she stood looking at it as the doors swung open.
“This is gonna be fun.” He said, watching the back of her head “You’re gonna meet kids today that you’re gonna borrow money from for the rest of your life.”
She didn’t reply
“Come on.” he said, gently gesturing her forward with his right arm, his tone somewhat softer. He watched her climb up the steps, his hands falling to his hips as he tried to think of something encouraging to say. “You’re gonna be great.”
She paused and looked back at him, her expression soft.
“You know, just…” he gave her a thumbs up “I don’t know. Try bein’ a kid.”
Mary looked down as the school bus doors shut and Frank sighed. He watched her take a seat as the bus pulled off and then turned to head back to the house. He was running through his day in his head, he had a boat he needed to have a look at but didn’t think it was a major fix, few parts that type of thing. He could swing by Sandybrook later on, maybe, see if Fliss was free for an hour for lunch…
There was a rapping on a window and he stopped dead at the end of the path looking up. His eyes locking with Roberta’s as she gazed at him from out of her window. With a sigh of frustration he turned to his left and continued back towards his home another way.
“Frank! Frank, I know you hear me.” He let out an inward groan as he rolled his eyes, ignoring her completely. He walked in the door to his kitchen, shut it and then snapped the lock across to make a point. The point being ‘piss off and leave me alone’. He knew that making the point was, however, pointless because she’d just fucking unlock the door and walk in anyway. Like she always did. He grabbed the toast that had popped up whilst he had been out and threw it on a plate.
“Frank!” There was a juggle of the door handle and he turned to look at Roberta as she pulled out a set of keys.
Ignoring her completely he grabbed a mug and poured some coffee into it.
“There’s still time for you to undo this nonsense. Go get in your car and go get that child.”
“Are you technically allowed to use these keys whenever you want?” He said to her, a little sarcastically as he passed her the mug. She took it from him
“How you can stand there…acting all calm and all of that making light out of this?” she asked as he took a bite of his toast “Now, go get her back before it’s too late.”
“She gotta go out in the world.” Frank said as he began to tidy up the kitchen, placing the breakfast and lunch making items away “She has no friends her age, no social skills. She doesn’t know how to be a kid.”
Roberta merely watched him as he sighed and turned to face her, leaning his hip against the counter. “Two nights ago she told me that even if Germany bails out the Euro, there could still be worldwide recession.” He shook his head “I was staring at the celling for three hours.” he finished softly
Roberta wrinkled her nose a little and looked down at the floor as she shook her head softly. “I’m so worried.” she said gently, her voice cracking and it was then that Frank noticed her eyes were filling with tears. He knew she cared for Mary, she cared for him too even if she showed that less. And he got it, he did, he got exactly what she was worried about because hell, he felt the same. If people spotted Mary’s potential and then started digging it was going to cause a whole heap of ramifications. But he had to balance out the need to keep her ‘talents’ hidden and for her to have a normal life. He saw so many parallels between Mary and Diane, and frankly it scared the shit out of him. His mother had been overbearing, insisted that they were both home schooled, but when their Father had died Frank had rebelled. He’d gone out, fallen in with a  BMX riding, trouble making crowd (well, as much trouble as 8 year olds could make…toilet papering houses, throwing stones at cars, that type of thing)  basically stuck the middle finger up at his mother who had in the end conceded and he’d gone to school. But Diane…well, she’d been smothered and grown up so isolated with no social skills.
No, he couldn’t let that happen to Mary.
He let out a sigh “Come on, Roberta. If you start crying, I will have to pretend to start crying.”
He watched as she nodded sadly.
“Hey.”
She looked up at him as he spoke.
“You know there’s something you could be overlookin’.” he smiled “This could work out.”
“Maybe.” she agreed, with a slight nod and a smile “But if anybody takes that baby away…I’ll smother you in yo sleep.” she warned him, her southern accent becoming stronger as she issued the threat “Morning, Fred.” she said to the cat who was led on the table. His tail swished as she rather viciously grabbed at her keys before she left the house.
With his fucking mug.
The sun was already warm and it wasn’t even 9 when Frank reached the dock, the rays bouncing off the crystal blue surface of the water. As he walked he applied a slight smearing of sunscreen to his neck, he knew that bore the brunt of the sun when he was outside and not in the lock up. Fliss had commented it on it the other day, and he had admitted to her that when he’d gotten out of the shower he had noticed he was definitely sporting some amusing tan lines, both round the collar of his T-shirts and where the arms finished. It was always the same though. Fliss had laughed, rolled up her sleeves to show him the same and pointed out it was why she spent as much time as she could on her days off by the pool trying to even it out.
Lying by the pool on a day off… Frank mused to himself, now there was a thought.
Whilst his mind was on Fliss, he pulled his phone out and dialed her number.
“Hey Frankie boy.” she greeted him “Did you manage to get her on the bus without a gun or…” Frank chuckled “It was surprisingly less trouble than I thought but…”
“You’re doing the right thing Frank.” she replied, and he had to smile at the fact she knew what he was pondering.
“Roberta doesn’t seem to think so.”
“Yeah, well, she’s worried but that doesn’t make her right.” Fliss said “Look, Mary is a kid. She needs to just, oh I dunno, live like a kid. You’ve done it now anyway so, well, just see how it goes, that’s all you can do.”
“Thanks Fliss.” he smiled to himself “Think I just needed to hear that.” “Any time, look I gotta go, my 9 am is here.” “Ok, well, I thought if the invite was open I could swing by at lunch. I’ll grab us a sandwich on the way?”
“Sounds great.” Fliss said, “Just message me later.” “Sure, have a good morning Cowgirl.” She laughed “You too Sailor.”
He tucked the phone back in his pocketed and continued to head down the gangway, nodding to a few people before he hopped onto the white speed-boat he was working on, pulling the dust cover off the stripped down engine.
**** Two hours. It was a whole two hours before he got a phone call telling him to head into the school. He strode back to the house, quickly washed his hands and threw on a blue and red plaid button down over his grubby white t-shirt before he headed to go get the pain-in-the-ass.
After a number of apologies, Frank walked out of the Principal’s office with a groan. Mary skipped ahead of him, examining something in a cabinet but he placedd his hand on her head and turned it in the direction she needed to walk. He pushed oen the double doors, letting her go in front of him.
One hand between her shoulder he steered her away from the entrance to the school and was fishing in his pocket for his keys when he heard a voice behind him.
“Excuse me?”
He turned to see a slim, quite pretty, brunette in a green and white dress hurrying towards him.
“Hi.” she said, raising her hand in greeting.
“Look it’s my teacher.” Mary said with a roll of her eyes as Frank slowed down.  “Probably wants to remind me what one plus one is.”
“Go to the car, okay?” he said, gently guiding her away with his hand.
“Hi” he repeated
“Hi.” Frank replied, removing his glasses and taking her extended hand in greeting.
“Sorry to yell at you and then chase you down.” she apologised.
“It’s okay. Mary’s teacher?” he asked, releasing her hand.
“Yes. I’m Bonnie Stevenson”
“Frank. How are you?” he said, and then before giving her chance to apologise he sighed “Sorry about today. She got little overexcited.” he gestured to the car as Mary climbed in “It’s just first day jitters.”
“Sure, yeah.” Bonnie nodded, turning to look at Mary
“We are running a little bit late actually, so we gotta get going.” Frank said, late for what he had no idea, he hadn’t made that bit up yet.
“Okay, I don’t even wanna talk about that.” Bonnie shook her head “I will keep you just a minute”
“Okay.”
“I think your daughter…I think Mary might be gifted.”
Shit.
“What?” Frank feigned surprise, quite well too so it seemed.
“Yeah, today in math, she answered some really…really…”
“Oh, no, no, no…” he said, holding his hand out to stop her as she was gesticulating rapidly with her own as she continued to speak. “No, that’s…it’s not gifted.”
“Difficult questions that a seven year old would…”
“It’s Trachtenberg.” Frank cut her off easily, he could deflect this.
“I’m sorry…” Bonnie laughed, folding her arms, looking at him, puzzled.
“Jakow Trachtenberg.” Frank nodded. “Spent seven years in a concentration camp. Developed a system to rapidly solve problems.” he gestured with the hand holding his keys “ It’s the Trachtenberg method.”
“But she’s…I mean… She’s seven though.” Bonnie said, smiling slightly, her tone still surprised.
“I learned it when I was eight.” he said, smiling “Do I look gifted to you?”
Bonnie looked him up and down and dropped her head, smiling.
“It kinda went out of note since the invention of the calculator…” Frank continued, backing away from her as he spoke, “But… I can still win a drink at the bar using it.” he smiled, opening his sunglasses out. “Sorry for today. Won’t happen again.”
“Okay.” Bonnie nodded as Frank slid on his shades.
“Nice to meet you…Bonnie.” he said, remembering her name.
“Frank.” Bonnie nodded again.
He drove them home in silence. His only words being an instruction for her to go change into something suitable for an afternoon at the docks before he stepped into the kitchen and remembered his lunch arrangements. With a curse he pulled his phone out and gave Fliss a quick call.
**** Fliss’ morning had been fairly busy as well. She’d given 2 private lessons, worked one of her horses, mucked half the block out as it was a Monday, which meant that Ellis had the day off so she mucked in, and was now going through the bookings for the week. She’d been inundated this week with requests that she couldn’t accommodate, but was contemplating putting another lesson on to satisfy the demand. Bill had told her not to be stupid, she was already teaching 6 days a week and needed to let her staff shoulder some of the responsibility before she burnt out.
“Joanne?” she called. Joanna walked in and looked at Fliss.
“How do you fancy taking over for me completely on a Sunday?” she asked.
“Me?” Joanne frowned.
“Yeah.” Fliss nodded “You open up, close and can run a couple of Classes. You have your teaching qualifications…I can supervise the first 2 weeks or so and if you’re happy after that then…you can take the day completely, take 20% of the earnings as an extra. What do you say?”
“Fliss, I’d…well, I don’t know what to say!” Joanne grinned “Yeah, yeah I’d love to!”
“Good.” Fliss smiled “There’s a list of clients here, you can call back after lunch and offer them a time slot to suit you on Sunday, have a think about a lesson plan for groups and then…” “Thanks Fliss. “ Joanne smiled “This means a lot.” “You’ve earned it.” Fliss smiled “You’ve been a perfect head groom these last 6 months. Keep going and…well, we’ll see where we end up!”
Joanne beamed and nodded, heading back out onto the yard.
Fliss took a deep breath. She had spent so much of her life not in control of her career or home life, doing as she was told by John, when she was told to do it or suffer the consequences of a beating, that she had gone the complete opposite way when she had taken grasp of her own life. Her business was run by her with military precision. Bill did the books for her, but other than that she arranged everything. She was a control freak, she knew that so stepping away 1 day a week might seem like a little step to other people but to her it was a huge one. Bill had reminded her the other night that the idea had been that eventually Fliss would have a manager running the place for her which meant she could turn up to provided lessons and ride when needed. She was a long way off that yet though, but this one day off was a little progress.
Her phone started ringing and she reached over to pick it up, smiling when she saw the number.
“2 calls before noon!” Fliss grinned “I’m honoured”
“Unfortunately I’m calling to cancel lunch.”  Frank sighed.
Fliss was surprised she felt disappointed. “Oh, it’s no issue.” she said, pulling a face “is everything alright.
“No.” he replied bluntly.
“Mary?”
“How did you guess?” he gave a low chuckle.
“She’s normally your source of your trouble. What has she done?”
“Apparently she stood up in class, and shouted at the principal to, and I quote “get on your phone and call Frank and tell him to get me out of here.””
Fliss bit back a laugh. It shouldn’t be funny, but she could picture Mary’s angry face and her arms folded across her chest. Despite her best attempts an amused snort escaped her.
“It’s not funny” Frank deadpanned
“I know, I’m sorry but… “ Fliss cleared he throat, forcing herself to become serious.
“You now I wasn’t a perfect kid but I’m pretty sure I never got thrown out before lunchtime on my first day.” Frank sighed.
“She’s not been thrown out…just told to go home early” Fliss countered
“Well I brushed it off as first day excitement but…the teacher was digging into how smart she is and…”
“Look, try not to worry.” Fliss said, sensing the tone of panic in his voice “Just try talking to Mary You always get the best out of her when you explain things to her.”
“Yeah, look, I better go…I need to get back to the boat yard.”
“No problem. Take care, and…just…well, listen to her Frank.”
“Yeah, bye Fliss.”
Fliss placed her phone down on her desk, and bit her lip. The morning had started off reasonably well too. She knew Frank well enough now to know that his frustration with Mary was born out of simply wanting the absolute best for her, and he was completely focused on making that happen even if Mary was not happy about it.
Fliss tapped her nails absentmindedly on the desk, trying to think of ways she could help. But other than talk to Mary, as she had encouraged Frank to do, she was stumped.
Nope, Fliss didn’t envy Frank one bit.
*****
“For the record, I didn’t wanna go to the stupid school in the first place.”  Mary rambled on as she perched on a cool box, blue sun hat perched on her face as Frank finally finished his work on the engine, screwing the cover back on “And the boy in the front row acts inappropriately for someone who’s a child.”
“Sorry. I’m still passively aggressively ignoring you.” he said without looking up.
“Other kids answer questions, they don’t get in trouble.” Mary continued to protest.
“You didn’t get in trouble for answering the questions.” Frank looked at her, still turning the screw driver, his voice taking on a tone of exasperation. “You yelled at the principal.”
Mary looked at him, shrugging.
“All right, you know what? You’re gonna find this interesting.” he said, stepping back slightly, tossing the screwdriver onto one of the seats as he made his way to the cockpit of the boat “So I googled" first graders who yelled at the principal". And statistically you will never believe how many kids do it.”
He started working his way through the checks as Mary answered
“How many?”
“None.” he shot back over his shoulder as he fired up the boat, revving it slightly. He heard Mary’s footsteps as she ran down the side of the boat and stopped.
“Frank, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” she said leaning over the edge to look at him.
“Yeah, right.” he said, shaking his head before he turned to look at her “You can’t show off like that in school.”
“I know.”
“You promised you wouldn’t then the first day…”
“I know, I screwed up.”
Frank looked at her, he could see she was genuinely contrite. Her head was dropped slightly. He watched her for a moment before he nodded and looked back out of the water before she spoke again.
“Do you think this boat needs a test ride?”
He looked back at her as she grinned up at him, the gap where her two top teeth had fallen out serving as a reminder as to just how young she damned well was. Like he could ever forget that, mind. Frank looked down and shoved his glasses back as they slipped down his nose and with a sigh he gave in, the way he normally did when she pulled those puppy dog eyes on him.
“Go get, Fred.”
She smiled and jumped up.
“Don’t run!” he called after her, watching as she slowed to a walk for a few strides, before running anyway. He shook his head, smiling to himself at her blatant disregard for his order.
She appeared a little while later and Frank got her settled in the seat of the boat with a life vest and a blanket covering her legs, it could get a little nippy on the water for Mary, not that it bothered him.
“Ready?” he asked
She gave him a thumbs up and he pulled the boat out of the spot and headed slowly out of the harbour. Once on the open water he sped up, relishing the feel of the wind in his hair. He felt at peace on the water, something about it soothed his soul. He drove them to a stretch of beach they knew and loved, a quiet one and he drove the boat into the shallow water before he shucked off his shoes and socks, rolled his jeans up and jumped down, pushing it up onto the sand.
“Alright short stack…” he smiled as Mary grinned and stood up. She shucked off her life vest and he lifted her out of the boat before passing Fred over. He hopped back in, grabbed the parasol and a fold out chair, passing her a bucket and spade, all of which he had thrown on the boat whilst she’d headed off to get Fred, before they made their way up the beach.
Mary soon set off, digging about in the sand and collecting shells, like a normal kid her age should do and Frank settled down to watch her, occasionally glancing out into the ocean, spotting every so often the ripple of the resident pod of dolphins as they broke surface lazily. Mary was splashing around in the shallow pools on the beach, Fred by her side before she looked up and came running towards him, jumping on his knee as the birds flew down to inspect what the tide had washed in.
“You ok?” he asked.
“Yeah.” she smiled, shifting around to get comfortable. “Fred loves to watch the sandpipers.”
Fred gave a meow as if to confirm what she was saying and Frank looked down at the cat as it lounged in the shade.
“He thinks he’d like to catch one, but he’d regret it.” she continued “Fred’s not a killer. He’s a lover.”
She gave a sigh and leaned back into him, her back resting against his chest and Frank moved his arms as she took his left hand in both of hers, gently looking at his palm and playing with his fingers.
“Would my mom want me to go to this school?” she asked.
“I can only guess.” Frank replied, honestly “But I will tell you that, she would have wanted you to have friends.”
“Idiot friends?”  Mary said, almost groaning.
“She’d want you to have compassion for others.” Frank said, tilting his head so he was looking down at the side of her face “Like a cat can have for a sandpiper.”
Mary paused and shifted slightly, looking down a little “But what if they don’t like me?” she asked softly.
And God, if that didn’t break his heart! He swallowed and took a moment, before he looked at her.
“Then they’re idiots.” he said simply, and in his mind it was the truth.
Mary didn’t reply, instead she leaned back, her head on his shoulder and Frank gently wrapped his arms further around her, patting her stomach gently. They both sat in silence for a bit, Mary gently tickling the back of his hands with her own. He was just thinking about telling her they really should get back, when he felt her sit up.
“Hey…is that Fliss?”                              
Frank frowned and looked at her, “Where?”
“There, look…” He followed where she was pointing and squinted slightly. There was a woman riding a chestnut horse a little further down the beach, and it certainly looked like Fliss.
“Hang on…” Frank said, pulling out his phone. He dialled Fliss and as he watched he saw the woman pause and reach into her boot to retrieve her phone.
“Hey…” she greeted him.
“Turn to your left…” he said.
There was a pause and then as she did so the two of the waved. Fliss laughed.
“Hang on…”
She placed the phone back in her boot and then kicked the horse into a gallop. It sped over the sand, kicking up spray as it went and Mary giggled and jumped off Frank’s knee as she approached.
“Hi!” she beamed down at them as she pulled the horse to a stop. Frank stood up and smiled at her. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Had to take the speedboat for a test drive.” Frank shrugged.
“Test sail.” Fliss countered.
“Whatever.” Frank rolled his eyes as Mary was busy stroking Heidi’s face. “What about you?”
“Oh had a spare hour so decide to load her majesty up and come down here.” she smiled “It’s nice and quiet. Sometimes I see the dolphins too.” Frank noticed the way her face lit up as she said that, and he smiled.
“They’re even better up close.” Mary grinned.
“Well, one day maybe I’ll get the chance” Fliss smiled.
“I still owe you a ride.” Frank smiled and she grinned.
“I’ll hold you to that…” Fliss said, “And speaking of rides…”
Frank took a deep breath “seriously?”
“Come on…” Fliss said “She’ll be safe, I trust this horse with my life.”
Mary, suddenly realising what was being said looked to Frank, her eyes sparkling.
“Fine…” Frank sighed, shaking his head “But drop her and I’ll kill you.”
“What do you take me for?” Fliss scoffed, removing her hat and handing it to Mary. Once she was seated in front of her Fliss held her tightly, one arm around her waist, the other in the reins and told Mary to hang on. She set off slowly at first and then with a grin kicked the horse on into a slow canter, and steered towards the sea.
“Shit…” Frank muttered, his heart in his mouth as the both cantered through the waves, the spray kicking up behind them. He could hear Mary’s shouting and laughing as it echoed up the beach. They went a little distance away before Katie slowed down to a walk, Heidi continuing along her path steadily.
“So, I hear school wasn’t great?” Katie said as they turned and made their way back at a slower pace.
“No.” Mary shrugged “Frank got mad.”
“Did you apologise?”
“Yeah…its ok now.” Mary shrugged “I just didn’t like it. And I don’t think they liked me.” Fliss took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you a secret…when I first started riding, the other kids didn’t like me either.” “Really?” Mary turned to face her as they wandered back, gently swaying with the horses motions.
“Nope, I came from a different back ground to them. We weren’t rich, I mean my mum and dad have money now but that was only after Bill opened the business.”
“So what happened?” “I kept going.” Fliss said gently “And then I met a friend, a girl called Charlotte. She was the same. Her family sold all their belongings so she could pursue her dream.”
Heidi slowed to a stop by Frank but Fliss continued to talk “And we became good friends, and we worked hard. She did dressage, I did show-jumping. And we both grew up together, and encouraged each other, and we made the teams.”
“Are you still friends now?” “Yeah, I still talk to her, I don’t see her as much but…” Fliss took a deep breath, the thought of the past still a bit painful. “The point is Mary, if you go in thinking that everyone is against you then believe me, it will seem that way. Maybe you should think about having an open mind and giving this a go, yeah?”
Franks eyes were hidden behind his glasses and at that moment he was kind of glad, because for some reason, there was a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes as he had observed his niece and Fliss together, the woman simply talking to Mary.
Mary pondered for a moment before she sighed “I suppose…”
Fliss smiled “Good, you’ll be glad you did.”
Mary shrugged “Maybe. Hey, you know what ad nauseam means?”
Fliss frowned and looked up as Frank gave a laugh “It means indefinitely, never ending…forever, why?” she looked at Mary. “Oh, something Frank said I’d learn at school but I didn’t…” she shrugged “But now I know, thanks.” “You’re welcome…” Fliss chuckled, as Frank helped her down. She watched her run off to pick up her cat.
“Thank you.” Frank said gently, turning to look up at Fliss.
“What for?”
“Talking to her, the way you always do. I don’t know how you do it Lissy, but you make her listen.”
“Don’t worry too much about her.” Fliss smiled “I know it’s easy for me to say but, well you always said today would be a challenge. See how she goes tomorrow.”
Frank smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck before he took a deep breath, suddenly making a decision. “I err, don’t suppose you wanna come for a drink on Friday? I’m only going to Fergs but…”
“I thought Fridays were your nights, you know where you sat at a bar, alone, all broody and mysterious…” Fliss grinned down at him.
Frank shook his head, a crooked smile spreading on his face “Yeah well, maybe I fancy a bit of company this week…”
Fliss looked at him for a moment, considering what he had said before she smiled “Ok, I got lessons until 6:30 but I can meet you there later on?”
Frank smiled “Great, it’s a date.”
Fliss arched her eyebrow and Frank inwardly cursed “I mean, not a date, but…you know, a…”
“You’re cute when you get flustered.” Fliss teased, cutting him off with a laugh “Don’t worry sailor, I know what you mean.”
With that she turned the horse back the way she had come and winking at Frank called to Mary. “Hey, you know when you asked how fast Heidi could go?”
Mary nodded.
“Well watch this…”
And with that Fliss gave the horse a gentle nudge and it erupted into a ridiculously fast gallop back down the beach. Fliss’ whoops echoed in the air as she looked back waving, and Mary ran a little way after her laughing and waving back.
****
Fliss was right. The next morning they had a little fuss but nothing drastic. Mary came home with a note about Wednesday being show and tell and she wanted to take Fred. So they bundled him into a cardboard box. Frank waited patiently outside until Mary was escorted back out by a classroom assistant to hand the cat back over.
“Enjoy that?” he said.
Mary nodded.
“I was talking to Fred.” Frank teased. Mary narrowed her eyes and he laughed.  “I’ll see you later ok?”
She came home a lot happier, talking to him about how the kids had asked her questions about Fred that she had answered and Frank couldn’t help but smile as she rambled on and on. Later, when he called Fliss he couldn’t stop himself from talking either and Fliss had been led on her bed, smiling at his voice as he continued to gush about his niece. Thursday and Friday passed much the same, which was why when Friday night came Frank was in a reasonably good mood, and ready to buy Fliss all the damned beer she wanted.
Fliss, however, was in a flap. Her lesson had overrun and now she had changed her outfit 3 times, finally settling on a light blue cotton knee length, sleeveless dress and brown sandals, leaving her hair loose and her make up light.  She hadn���t been out with her friends for, well, not since moving here. Sure, she’d been out with her parents and their friends but this felt different. And she was nervous.
“You look nice.” Her dad looked up as she walked into their living room. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, you sure you don’t mind dropping me?” she looked at him, “I can get a cab?”
“Don’t be daft…” Bill said, picking up his keys.
“Have a nice time honey!” her mum called.
Bill could tell she was nervous so he made idle chit chat on the drive down to the main strip of bars and eventually pulled up outside Fergs.
“Just have fun.” he said to her gently “And if you need me, call.”
“Thanks dad.” she smiled, kissing his cheek before she let herself out of the range rover and headed into the bar.
She glanced around for a second, looking for Frank and spotted him at a table talking to a dark haired woman, with a pretty face. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she really wanted to interrupt and was debating running back out to catch Bill when Frank looked up and saw her. Flashing her that smile that could melt her on the spot he waved her over.
“Thought you were gonna stand me up!” he grinned at her as she took a seat. “Sorry, my last lesson over ran.” She answered before she smiled politely at the dark haired woman. “Hi…” “Oh, Fliss this is Bonnie, Mary’s teacher.” Frank introduced them. “Nice to meet you.” Fliss smiled. The woman gave her a smile back and stood up speaking to her as she did so “Well, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time Frank and I don’t want to eat into your date.“ “Oh this isn’t a date…” Fliss protested at the same time Frank shook his head “We’re not…” he gestured between himself and Fliss with his hands “Fliss is Mary’s riding instructor” “She horse rides?” Bonnie said, an air of surprise in her tone. “The idea was it would hopefully teach her social skills before School.” Frank snorted “clearly didn’t work..” “Oh don’t be so hard in her.” Fliss jumped to the girls defence “she’s a good kid.” “I bet its easier when you’re trying to teach them something they actually want to learn…or in Mary’s case teaching her something she doesn’t know….” Bonnie said and Fliss laughed. “She’s actually one of the easier kids I have.” She said and Frank smiled at her comment “mind you, none of the kids give me any hassle really, its the adults that are hard work.”
“Oh my god tell me about it…” Bonnie groaned “I dread Teacher-Parent evenings, honestly, some of them are so obtuse…” “I can imagine.” Fliss grinned
“Anyway I better…” Bonnie gestured over her shoulder “see you later Frank, and nice to meet you Fliss” “You too.” Fliss nodded to he as Frank waved his hand in goodbye.
“What you drinking cowgirl?” he asked, standing up “I’ll go get em in.”
FLiss asked for a beer and sat down as he went to place their order. A frew minutes latger he was back, sliding the bud over to her.
“Thanks…” she took a huge drink. “I err, didnt interrupt anything before did I?“
“No, not really.” Frank shook his head “Not really?” “She errr…found out about Diane.” Frank said. “Oh.” Fliss frowned “how? I mean…” “When I picked Mary up on Monday she was asking me about her background om account of her being so smart. I tried to fob her off, saying I had taught her a system, you know for arithmetic but she didn’t buy it. Apparently she’s been giving Mary a few more advanced equations to do…”
Fliss looked down as he slid the paper on the table over to him. It contained a number of formulas and algebra problems which Fliss could see Mary had completed.
“As you can see, she aced them. And then Bonnie googled the system I mentioned, and then me and…up popped Diane” he shrugged .
“So did you tell her the truth?” Fliss asked looking up at him, sliding the paper back.
“What option did I have” he shrugged, folding it and shoving it in his pocket. “She came down here to call me out so I figured honesty was the best…what?“ He asked when he noticed Fliss was frowning. "She came down here on a Friday night to find you?” Fliss snorted
Frank shrugged “That’s what she said.”
“How she know you’d be here?” “I’m here most Fridays…not that hard to find.” “Maybe you should think about varying your routine Sailor” Fliss grinned “And you should definitely think about varying this shirt.”
Frank glanced down at his bright yellow palm tree print Hawaiian shirt
“What’s wrong with it?” he pouted.
“What’s right with it more like…”
“Well I’m not one for corporatism.” Frank shrugged “I like to think I’m an individual.”
“To be fair I’m not sure planet Earth could deal with two of you.” Fliss shot back. “I can only just about cope with one…”
Frank paused before he looked at her, shaking his head with a snort as his mouth curled up at one corner “Well that’s just fucking rude.”
“Made you smile though.” Fliss grinned at him.
Frank looked at her for a moment before he felt his face split further into a grin as he looked at her. “Yeah, yeah you do…I mean did.”
He saw her cheeks flush in that adorable way they did, and he decided to save her from further embarrassment by changing the subject. It wasn’t long before they settled into an easy conversation and the events of the previous week and all worries about Mary flew completely from Frank’s mind. @the-omni-princess  @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld  @cobalt-gear  @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13​  @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie​  @navispalace​ @patzammit​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @djeniiscorner​  @ayamenimthiriel​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​  @disneylovingal​ @madzmilllz​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @southerngracela​ @goldenfightergir​ @kellymat​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @icanfeelastormbrewing​ @pagesoflauren​
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Flower Child (Peter Parker x ofc)
Chapter 6: Lila and Ted’s Excellent Friday Night
warnings: mentions of death and grief, poorly translated French
Lila Landry hated few things. She hated intolerance, and saw no point of those who couldn’t accept differences between people. She hated ignorance, and people who let intolerance and injustice prosper simply because it didn’t affect them personally. She positively loathed big pharma and fossil fuel industries, but that was just the political stance she was raised on. She also dreaded the idea of being surrounded by massive crowds of her peers, which was exactly what her school had planned for Friday afternoon. 
Midtown kicked off their homecoming week with an assembly the Friday before, just to get the students hyped for the week of events soon to follow. There was a themed week, something Lila personally didn’t partake in (especially when the theme was a return to the 1980s), a ton of after school activities, something Lila didn’t care for, and finally, a dance. The only reason Lila knew so much about it was because Liz Allan was head of the homecoming committee, and spent her free time in decathlon going over planning. Lila noticed that it stressed Liz out quite a bit, but she took great measures to keep that to herself. Some kind of leadership trait, Lila figured, although didn’t necessarily agree with.
What stressed Lila out was that the thought of sitting in a completely full auditorium where multiple things happened all at once, and she was sandwiched between people she didn’t really know on all sides. It made her stomach turn thinking of all the things she had to do before she got home to her dad, and sitting still for an hour and a half was not going to make it any better. So instead, Lila talked to the home economics teacher, Mr. Crayne, who had agreed to let Lila use the kitchen that was his classroom. 
So while everyone gathered for the homecoming assembly, Lila entered the home economics classroom with a slip of paper permitting her to be there during the assembly in one hand, a bag full of baking necessities in the other, and flicked on the lights. Setting down the bag and note, Lila pulled out her phone, selected a song from a playlist inspired by her mother (the particular song was by Tears for Fears), and made her way to the sink to wash her hands. Once that was finished, and the groceries were emptied onto the countertops, Lila’s body slipped into autopilot, and the baking commenced.
Baking was second nature to her, as well as cooking. She was an expert at it, but that was likely due to the fact that she’d been doing it long before she’d even learned to write. Lila liked to think that it was just because her mother was a natural, and passed that skill down to her, but she knew that it was because cooking was Mommy-and-Lila time. Ted Landry wasn’t allowed near the kitchen on days when they were cooking, not even if he needed a glass of water. The record player was always blaring some classic or another, and the food meant to be prepared was scattered around the countertops. It was these memories that put a smile on Lila’s face as she sifted the flour.
When the flour was appropriately measured and placed in the correct bowl, Lila turned her attention to the fruit she had gone out of her way to purchase that morning. There was a stall at the Forest Hills farmers market that Angelina Landry used to take Lila to that she claimed sold the best fresh fruit in New York. It was at that tiny booth that she met Isaac Evans, a man of eighty, who sold the Landrys their best fruit. Now that her mother wasn’t there to keep the tradition of buying the fruit with her, Lila always made sure to stop by and check in on the man herself. Only now, she made sure to bring a bright bouquet of whatever was newest and (in her opinion) most beautiful. Isaac always sold her the fruit at a ridiculously discounted rate, so she made sure to return the favor, and catch up with him and Mrs. Evans if she was there.
Soon, the smell of citrus overwhelmed her, and Lila’s fingertips had splotches of blue on them as she completed the batter. Whisking furiously until it was at the appropriate consistency, she poured the batter into the two bread tins she’d brought along with her. Sliding both of the tins into the oven, Lila set a timer, and hastily cleaned up her workspace. She had roughly forty-five minutes before she needed to prepare the icing that went along with the recipe, and she figured she’d better finish her homework in the meantime. 
Since her trip to D.C. was tomorrow, Lila had spent all of her free time finishing up her school work, so as to be completely free of any outside responsibilities, per recommendation of Liz. Not to mention, she’d had a very busy evening planned out, hence the baking at two in the afternoon. The baking was for May Parker, who couldn’t get enough of Lila’s desserts, and was in need of a thank-you from the Landrys for being so accommodating of their need to switch around their volunteer schedule. At the nearest homeless shelter in Queens to the Landrys, Ted and Lila made their regular appearance helping out wherever they could on Sundays. Be it making repairs, helping in the kitchen, or just keeping the homeless company, they were there every Sunday morning. May Parker happened to head the location they volunteered at, and became fast friends with the family that visited regularly since the Battle of New York.
She was a busy woman, rebuilding a community after the disaster in Manhattan, and helping the people who needed it most. Lila figured it was a good thing, hardly being able to switch volunteer schedules around due to the sheer enormity of the volunteer list. But May managed to, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the Landrys. So Ted got her a bouquet, and Lila was left to bake one of her favorites: lemon and blueberry bread. And while the sweet smell filled the kitchen around her, Lila tried to focus on her chemistry homework. She didn’t want to be left with homework after volunteering, for she also had plans to spend with her dad that evening. He’d managed to take the night off, and they were both looking forward to spending it together.
At long last, Lila finished her homework, and hastily shoved it in her backpack before getting started on the icing to complete her bread. She finished just in time, taking the bread out, removing them from the tins, and placing them on a rack to cool a bit. Speeding up the process just a bit by fanning the bread with a spare baking sheet, Lila waited five minutes before drizzling the homemade icing over the top of both loaves. The smell was intoxicating as always, and Lila smiled proudly at what she’d made. Cutting into it, she made neat slices and decorated them intricately around a plate she’d brought from home. After wrapping up the bread in cling wrap, Lila cleaned her station one last time, and left the classroom.
A quick glance at the nearest clock told Lila that school was almost over. Students were still being held in the gym for the remainder of the assembly, and Lila figured that it might be alright to text her dad to pick her up a little earlier than anticipated. A quick reply informed her that Ted was on his way, and excitement settled in Lila’s stomach. As she shoved her phone in her back pocket, she rounded the corner, nearly dropping the bread she’d worked so hard to bake after running into two men clearly looking to leave the school as quickly as possible. One of the men was short, with long hair and a baseball cap perched firmly on is head. His beard had patches of black and white, and he looked absolutely terrified to be running into a teenage girl in the middle of a high school. The other man was taller, and a little more at ease, looking at Lila in surprise, but also disregarding her as soon as she was assessed. He placed a hand under the plate that Lila was fumbling with, and another on her shoulder to quickly steady her. 
“Oh, my gosh, I am s-so sorry,” Lila apologized, heart skipping a beat. The man quickly removed his hands as soon as she was steady once again. He didn’t seem completely threatening, but a bad feeling panged in Lila’s gut regardless.
“No problem,” He grumbled, and the pair walked away. She turned to look at them, and noticed the shorter man look over at the taller one as they both assessed a piece of technology that had a resemblance to a scanner Lila wasn’t able to place.
She furrowed her eyebrows when she heard the shorter man whisper harshly, “I told you high schools creep me out. Teenagers, they’re everywhere.” Another detail caught her eye, something bulging on each of their hips. Lila’s eyes widened, and silently hoped they were carrying outdated pagers-
Suddenly Lila was nearly knocked down once again; and once again, she was steadied. A hand went to the bread, and another hand went to her arm. A small gasp of surprise left her lips before her head whipped back around to see Peter Parker staring at her equally in shock, Ned Leeds not far behind him. “P-Peter,” She whispered, more so a reaction than anything else. He let go of her once she got her bearings once again, and took a step back. Lila looked from him to his friend. “Ned, hi.”
He waved and smiled warmly at her, like he always did. “Hi, Lila.”
She glanced back behind her, and the two men she’d previously run into were nowhere in sight. Lila frowned in confusion before turning back to Peter and Ned. They were both looking over her shoulder as well, like the two men she’d encountered had also run into the pair of them. “What are you - what are you doing out of the assembly?”
A look of poorly concealed panic settled into Peter’s features, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before being able to make words come out. Lila’s suspicion, which wasn’t there in the first place, began to form as Peter struggled to answer a seemingly simple question. And it wasn’t even Peter who answered it.
“Oh, you know,” Ned said, though Lila didn’t know, “Peter hates large crowds, and I wanted to show him my new Lego Death Star set.” A tint of pink splashed across Peter’s cheeks at the mention of the Legos, and Lila saw him send Ned a warning glare. Ned’s answer felt very much like a lie, but for the simple reason that Lila couldn’t prove otherwise, she let it slide.
“That’s r-really cool. How many pieces?” It was merely her being polite, but the surprised expressions on both of their faces made up for it entirely. Peter was still fidgeting, looking over her shoulder and down the hallway the two men disappeared. She tried her best to ignore it, but when it came to Peter, he was always difficult for her to ignore.
“Three thousand, eight hundred, and three,” Ned said impressively, and Lila’s eyebrows raised slightly.
“Wow, that’s amazing-”
“Is that lemon blueberry bread?” Peter interrupted. Lila looked over at him in surprise, and followed his gaze down to the plate of warm dessert she still held in her hand. The abrupt change in topic didn’t slip by Lila as Peter seemed to hope it would.
But once again, Lila had to let it slide. “O-Oh.” She replied, a blush matching Peter’s finding its way to her cheeks. “I totally forgot that M-May always saves you a piece. Yeah, it - it is.”
Peter still seemed flabbergasted. “I had no idea it was you that made them.”
“‘I find your lack of faith disturbing,’” Lila quoted boldly, cracking a large smile at the shocked looks they wore. “I’m perfectly capable of - of making delicious desserts.”
“Oh no,” Peter said, suddenly trying to backtrack, “That wasn’t what I meant at all-”
“I’m messing with you, Peter,” Lila said, still screaming on the inside that she was even capable of such an easygoing conversation with Peter. “Do you guys w-want to try some?” She’d lifted the cling wrap off of the plate just enough for the boys to each grab a piece and dig in. A warm feeling of satisfaction sat with her as they wolfed down their pieces, complimenting her baking the entire time. A buzz in her back pocket brought her back down from the blissful cloud she was on (being able to talk to the boy she’d been obsessing over so normally had her on a high she wasn’t sure she could replicate), and she remembered her dad saying he was going to meet her at her school.
“Well, I-I have to get going, my d-dad’s coming to get me.” The boys offered their thanks for sharing the dessert, said goodbye, and skirted around her, heading down the hallway quickly. Lila, still acting strangely out of character, called after Peter. He turned back to face her, and she smiled sadly. “I’m sorry Tony St-Stark is keeping you from going with us tomorrow.”
Peter, for the briefest moment, looked confused, before remembering what exactly tomorrow was. He smiled tightly, and nodded. “Thanks, Lila.”
He raced down the remainder of the hallway, seemingly chasing after the two guys who ran into her previously. As Lila walked in the opposite direction, a strange feeling grew in her gut, thinking back on Peter’s behavior. Maybe her initial impression of the strangers she’d encountered wasn’t at all incorrect, and maybe Peter felt the same way about them that she did.
                                 *****
“Comment ça va, Tulip?” Was the first thing Lila heard after getting in the car. Looking over at her father, who was perched in front of the steering wheel, her smile almost fell. He wasn’t okay. His complexion was pale, and he didn’t trim his beard that morning like he usually did, instead letting it stay a little scraggly, something he typically hated. The bags that rest under his eyes were a little darker than normal, and there was a crease in between his eyebrows. The smile on his face, and the dim light that was in his eyes told Lila that he was trying to put on a brave face for her.
But she wouldn’t have even had to look over at Ted to realize something was wrong. He was speaking French, something he had learned from Angelina while they were together. She spoke it all the time in their household when Lila was growing up, and it was as easy to speak and comprehend as breathing. She loved the language itself, it was gorgeous and romantic, much like her parents. But now, with her mother gone, there was always a touch of nostalgia that came along with speaking it. Lila and Ted fell into a rhythm of only speaking it at times where they really needed Angelina, when they missed her the most. 
Being as their grief occurred at any point in time, the pair decided never to question the other when it happened. Speaking in French was a brief respite from the weight of her not being with them anymore, and was also a means of supporting each other in her absence. So Lila gripped the platter of goodies fractionally tighter, and smiled reassuringly. It made her feel better seeing Ted’s shoulders relax ever so slightly at her expression. “Ça va bien.” She skipped over asking him how he was doing, as the answer was obvious. “J’ai fet ça pour May,” Lila gestured to the platter of food that Peter and Ned had previously gotten into, and smiled proudly down at the bread. She glanced up to see her father’s reaction, happy to take his mind off of whatever was troubling him. He commented on it, saying how they looked positively delicious, and that May was going to be thrilled. Simultaneously, Ted pulled out of the school parking lot, and headed over to the homeless shelter that they were due to volunteer at. 
They spoke about everything that happened in their days, and managed to have a completely normal conversation, just in French. It was difficult for Lila, seeing her dad hold himself together so that he wouldn’t collapse in front of her. Not that he hadn’t before, the two were very open with their emotions due to years of therapy the pair attended, but it was still hard on her that it was hard on him. She hoped to whatever higher being was out there (more than likely the Asgardians) that when it was Lila’s turn for love, she wouldn’t end up like her dad. Loving someone so wholeheartedly and completely, only to have them ripped out of her grasp forever. She also prayed that her dad would someday find it in himself to recognize that he deserved to be happy with someone new.
The traffic through Queens wasn’t as awful as it could’ve been, and Ted and Lila arrived five minutes early to the shelter. They spoke for a few minutes more in the car, before deciding to head inside. Ted opened the back door of the car and pulled out a beautiful assortment of vibrant yellow sunflowers with purple asters scattered in between. She smiled, complimenting him on his choice, and Lila then turned to face the door. Only, she was stopped when Ted placed a hand on her shoulder. Looking back around at him, he smiled warmly, blinking quickly to stop the tears that looked to escape. “Ta mère serait si fière, Lila.”
Your mother would be proud, Lila.
She swallowed the growing lump in her throat, not expecting the comment at all. Looking up at her dad, in his warm, brown eyes, she could tell he meant it more than he meant anything. She wanted to take it, she wanted to accept that compliment, but truthfully? She couldn’t. What had Lila done besides get good grades and help her dad around his business? Sure, she was kind, and treated everyone with respect, but was that enough? Was that really enough for her mother to be proud of her? All Lila was able to manage was a shaky smile (which felt more like a grimace, in her opinion) and squeak out, “Really?”
“She’d be so proud, Lila,” Ted repeated. “With you branching out, making new friends, and this whole decathlon thing? She’d be over the moon for you, just like I am.” Lila wasn’t sure how to take that, and she was lucky her dad understood that. Instead of waiting for a reply that was unlikely to come, he threw his arm over her shoulders and brought her in close. With a gentle kiss on the forehead, he rubbed her arms reassuringly and guided her inside.
                               *****
It was all Lila could do to not burst into tears after her dad talked about her mom the way he did, but fortunately, the shelter was so busy that it didn’t even seem to matter. They were immediately greeted by the staff of the shelter, including May Parker, who looked busy and tired. Any creases due to worry melted off of her face after seeing the Landrys walk inside, and lit up exponentially at seeing that they didn’t come empty-handed. There were volunteers bustling around, spending time with a few kids here or there, talking to some of the people in need of a place to stay, and some were leading activities. The familiarity of the place calmed Lila down a bit, and she smiled warmly as May walked over to greet them.
“Ted, Lila, so glad you could make it!” She weaved in between a few tables and stopped right in front of them, eyes darting in between the two. “What’s all this?” Her gaze flickered down to the flowers and lemon bread, expression brightening just a bit more. 
Lila smiled. “It’s the least we could do. We know how b-busy you are, and switching around our schedules means more than you know.” Together, Lila and Ted handed her the flowers and treats, and watched with satisfaction as she took them appreciatively.
“You guys… you didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Ted commented. She sent him a grateful smile before quickly digging into a slice of lemon blueberry bread, and guiding them to the back so she could assign them to their stations. Lila smiled as Ted and May caught each other up on their weeks as they walked, occasionally stopping to greet people they recognized.
Lila loved her dad’s relationship with May. She was the person who helped show Lila and Ted the ropes when they decided to start volunteering at the shelter, and was incredibly sympathetic towards their reasons for joining. For the last eight years, she bonded with Ted over their kids, over their interests, and over what had happened when aliens invaded New York. Volunteering was something that Lila and Ted were able to look forward to, and feel like they were giving back to the community that helped them rebuild after Angelina died, and the biggest favor of all came the previous January, when Ben Parker was shot and killed.
Lila had been lucky enough to meet Ben Parker, and develop a good relationship with him. He came in on the occasional Sunday, helping out where he could and talking to Lila in the process. She always got the impression that he liked her, and he often pulled her aside to tell her funny stories, especially on the days where she couldn’t help but miss her mom. Ben always laughed at her corny jokes and listened intently whenever she would speak. His patience was unending, and Lila felt her world grow a little darker when she had heard of his death.
There was no question: the Landrys supplied the best flowers they possibly could when Ben was put to rest. And Ted and Lila were constantly at the ready to help May (and by extension help Peter) grieve and process. That was really how Ted and May grew to be such good friends, was by helping each other through the loss of their spouses. It wasn’t a simple matter, dealing with that type of pain, but knowing that someone like May Parker was in Lila’s corner helped ease some of the burden of no longer having a mother, and Ted not having a wife.
May put them to work with food, and caught up with them a little bit before returning to her office. She asked Lila how school was, to which she replied that she was doing well, and that she was terrified for the decathlon. May had even been so kind as to ask her about how she was healing, knowing full well what had happened at Delmar’s a few nights ago. 
“I’m on the mend,” Lila admitted, washing her hands before putting on some gloves, turning to face May, who had given Lila her complete attention. Thinking about the past few days walking around with her injury brought memories to the surface that made her cheeks tint pink. “I really c-couldn’t have made it through this week without Michelle o-or Peter.”
“Peter?” May’s eyebrows raised a little bit, but were accompanied with a smile. “My Peter?”
“Y-Yeah,” Lila tucked her hair behind her ear, trying her best not to blush too much, or smile too wide. “Ever since it h-happened, he’s - he’s gone out of his w-way to make sure I was okay.”
Apparently, Lila said just the right thing, for May’s smiled a genuine smile at her comment. “Good, I’m so glad to hear that. Honestly, I’ve been a little worried he’s been neglecting his friends, lately.”
Lila tilted her head in confusion, “Why would you think that?”
“Well, he’s been so busy, you know? With the Stark Internship, he… he’s so focused on that internship that sometimes I worry he’s letting everything else go.” She let out a sound that was a blend of a scoff and a laugh. “I don’t know, maybe I worry too much.”
“H-He’s too smart to let things go, May,” Lila answered truthfully. Peter Parker was the smartest person she knew. Well, besides Michelle. “I’m sure it’s just overwhelming to him at the moment. Working with Tony Stark, they’re lofty e-expectations. If anyone could navigate it, it’s him.”
May looked over at Lila, regarding the small girl as she threw an apron on over her head. Smiling, she nodded, “Yeah. He’s a pretty bright kid.”
                      *****
“You’re wrong, you’re dead wrong.”
“Yeah, okay, Tulip.”
“No, listen, I’m just saying - Dad, stop, for a second. I’m just saying, Sokka’s character development is some of the best in any television show ever.”
“Over Zuko, Lila? Zuko? He literally overcame evil and helped Aang overthrow his own father for the sake of good. No way is Sokka’s better.” 
Ted and Lila were busy pointing their chopsticks at each other to actually eat the food perched in their laps. Their heated discussion came from their binge-watching of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Over the past few weeks, they’d been re-watching the show for the fun of it, and repeatedly arrived at the intense debate of whose character arc was better. Obviously, Lila thought it was Sokka, who ended up with a fresh respect for how capable women, particularly the women of the show, actually were. Ted, however, was convinced it was Zuko, having shifted sides from being evil just to win favor of a father who didn’t really love him, over to the side of good, because it was right.
He was completely incorrect, of course. And even if he was right, what a cliché. 
Lila had a pretty great night with her dad. After preparing meals for the homeless throughout the afternoon, Ted treated her to their own dinner. Consisting of Lila’s favorite, they shared sesame chicken and dumplings as well as many laughs over the children’s cartoon Ted bought her as a gift. They’d talked over the show about everything and nothing, mostly just enjoying each other’s company. It started as a trading of stories, mainly concerning the shop and the customers fitting in it. Then it became a casual commentary of the show, ending with the furious debate between whose arc was better.
Lila took another bite of chicken, rather half-heartedly at that. “Dad?” She asked, and her father hummed in response, staring at the chicken he was still digging into. “Do you think this weekend’s gonna be okay?”
Ted looked straight up at her, “What makes you think it won’t?”
“I don’t know,” She shrugged, setting her food down. “With Peter quitting the team, I just-” Huffing, she brushed a loose strand of hair to the side. “- I know there’s a possibility that I might have to be on the panel, and I don’t want to mess it up for anybody. What if I mess it up? Like, royally screw the pooch, how can I-?”
“Tulip,” Ted said sternly, taking Lila off guard. “This competition doesn’t matter if you don’t stop digging that hole you’ve made for yourself. You are thinking little: Little of yourself, little of your capabilities. You need to remember that you are Lila Landry, you’re smart, beautiful, and you can do absolutely anything because that’s who you are. Don’t let this competition consume you, it’s not everything.” 
He paused and looked at her as Lila looked back down at her lap. Blinking furiously, she tried her best not to cry. Good tears, thankful tears, but that was the last thing she needed. In the end, her dad was right, Lila was ready for Washington, and the academic decathlon wasn’t ready for her. If she had to, she was going to kick major ass, and protest in front of an embassy (Michelle’s idea) in the meantime. Ted then nudged her leg gently, and she looked up at him. “You wanna open your fortune cookie, now?”
Lila chuckled, nodding. Reaching for the cookies that sat on the table, she tossed one to her dad before opening the packaging around her own. Watching as Ted did the same, she waited until his was off, too. They counted to three, and each opened their fortunes. As per usual, Lila read hers first. “‘Soon life will become more interesting. “Hmm,” she hummed happily, glancing up and laughing at her dad’s confused expression. “What’s yours?”
“‘You cannot direct the wind. Or a cat.’” 
They shared a look and cackled at the silly fortune. But when she looked back on it, Lila really should’ve paid more attention to her own fortune. For in two days’ time, her life would be changed forever.
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j-j-ehlby-writes · 5 years
Text
Meet Me at the Chalet || day one.
Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)
Word count: ~5.7k (told you it’d be longer, but I promise they’re not all this long)
Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.
Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, depressing thoughts (future chapter), mental breakdown (future chapter), Tom being Tom
night one. || day one. || day two. ||
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The next day, the stillness greeted me. The same feeling I would get waking up on a Saturday afternoon after a blanket of snow coated everything for the very first time. Like the snow froze time, nothing moving or wanting to disturb the serenity. It’s one of those days where getting out of bed is optional. This feeling is exactly what I was wanting while on this vacation.
I could have stayed in bed all day, but my stomach protested pretty quickly after sleep left me. Climbing out of my comfy cocoon, I stretched every muscle, ridding it of any trace of tiredness. Gosh, I haven’t had this heavy of sleep in years! What are these mattresses made of? Magical clouds?
I took in my room. It’s a complete contrast to the lobby. Modern dark gray walls complement the black carpet. White faux fur rugs sit at each side of the King sized bed to contradict the dark. Clean white sheets adorn the bed with black and gray accents on the comforter and in the pillows. The windows and doors are framed with a natural light wood color to bring the modern touches down a notch.
Opening the black-out curtains revealed the floor-to-ceiling windows with the most picturesque view I’ve ever seen. Pine trees are covered with snow, weighing down every branch. The still falling snow is a mixture of tiny cotton balls and glitter. All of the white nearly blind me, my eyes not used to the light yet. But still, my heart swells. Vacation begins.
I quickly throw on the most comfortable outfit I packed: a dark gray cowl neck sweatshirt with black, white, and purple Zubaz. I slightly flinched when I took in my appearance in the bathroom mirror. Leftover make-up flecks were under my eyes. My make-up remover wipes are obviously not doing their job properly… I ran some warm water over my face to get rid of them. Putting my long, wavy hair into a braid was the last thing I did before leaving my solitude.
 As I flipped on the light in the kitchen, I hesitated in the doorway. He wasn’t kidding about “top of the line.” Top notch stainless steel appliances: double ovens, 8-burner stove top, industrial sized refrigerator, and the biggest microwave I’ve ever seen. There were also all of the small appliances that anyone would need. If I were a chef, I would be in heaven. I almost don’t feel worthy enough to be in here.
Picking my favorite playlist, I dove into my own little world. As the music flooded the room, my body carried me throughout the expanse of the kitchen collecting every ingredient, utensil, and bowl I need to make French toast with strawberries. Jamming to just about anything that would pop up as everything came together.
Applause broke my reverie, my heart leaping out of my chest from fright.
Spinning around, clutching my chest I see the last person I ever expected to see. Leaning against the door frame with his long and lean body adorned in a white t-shirt, a black zip-up hoodie, and hip-hugging sweatpants, a book stuffed under his armpit, a charming smirk was plastered on his gorgeous bearded face… was Tom freaking Hiddleston.
What in the world is he doing at a small chalet in the middle of the mountains in the states when he could be at some luxury, private resort in Europe? How does he even have the time to be here? Doesn’t he have a huge movie coming out soon, play rehearsals, and two TV shows in the works that he should be out promoting? How does he have any time to do anything personal at all?
Although, as his fan, I’m proud he is finally taking some time for himself. He’s been busy nonstop since his first Marvel movie. He deserves to take some time for himself for some much-needed R&R. No screaming, no cameras in his face, no signing autographs- total privacy he so wants and deserves. That reason alone is why I will not make my admiration known, not right away at least. He does deserve all of the credit he is due, but I would like his vacation to remain a peaceful one.
He cleared his throat, “I apologize for scaring you, but I thought I should make my presence known before you were to go on.” He spoke so eloquently, it was hard to ignore the way his beautiful blue steel eyes radiate with restfulness this getaway has finally given him after so long. “And I must say, you have the most eclectic taste in music.” He added while stepping in.
His sudden movement snapped me out of my frozen state. “Well it never hurts to have a variety.” I turned back to the stove. “And don’t think that complimenting my musical interests gets you off the hook for giving me a heart attack before I got food in my stomach.”
“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.” Even though my back was to him, I could hear the smile in his tone. “How can I make it up to you, then?”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” I flipped the piece of bread onto its other side, loving the golden brown color. I turned slightly back to him. “I thought you were leaving today.” I recall the guy yesterday mentioning the other guest was supposed to be departing this morning.
“Well, thanks to Mother Nature, my stay has been extended. Not that I’m complaining though. I wasn’t ready to leave quite yet.” He leaned back against the counter next to the stove, so he was in my line of sight. One thing I heard about him is he is one of those guys that loves eye contact, especially during conversations. His move only proves that is right.
“Why not?” I asked as my curiosity was piqued. Assuming he doesn’t want to leave yet because it means going back to his hectic schedule is reasonable, but one should never assume.
“It’s very serene here. I like it better than the alternative.” Another thing I heard was how notoriously private he is. He only lets the world see what he wants them to see, leaving aspects of him that he reserves only for his close friends and family. Same goes for his relationships. He lets people know what he wants them to, never revealing too much. He must feel that everyone only cares to know why he’s single or if he’s dating anybody. So to him, keeping his private life just that is important. He loves his fans, he’s said so on many occasions, but he deserves to have some form of normalcy in all of the chaos.
“Everyone deserves a little peace and quiet every now and then. Pressing pause on life is good for your sanity.” Plopping the finished piece of French toast on the plate, I turned off the stove.
I can absolutely understand why everyone needs the pause button. Being a writer it is nonstop meetings and phone calls about pages and storyline updates. Everyone is always rushing to meet the deadlines. The trouble is I’ve never been good with deadlines or peer pressure so publishing my first book nearly caused a meltdown. Hence the reason I am on vacation by myself in the middle of the mountains. Now everything is published and awaiting more reviews. My publisher already gave me a heads-up that they were mostly good and that’s all I needed. Criticism isn’t something I’m fond of either. Thankfully my agent, publisher, and editor all agreed to leave me alone while on this trip, so I don’t have anything to worry about. Plus, this gives me a chance to get inspired. Knowing the big guns would want another book proposal as soon as the first one was completed, I already gave them the sequel to my first. That satisfied them for the time being. Now I just have to think of my next project.
“You sound like you speak from experience.” He pointed out, detecting my hidden meaning. He’s perceptive… gotta watch out for that.
“You could say that.” I sighed, moving to chop the strawberries I want on my French toast.
“How rude of me,” He blurted, shaking his head in self-disappointment, “I never introduced myself.” I chuckled at his humbleness. Like he really has to introduce himself to anybody anymore. But being the ever-polite British gentleman, he feels the need to. He held out his hand to me. “I’m,” he paused, “Will.”
I tried to stop the smile that threatened to show but failed. He’s going to use an alias. I guess he wants to remain anonymous. Again, his actions make complete sense to me. When I was given the opportunity to publish my book, I decided to use a pseudonym. Anonymity was important to me as well. That way I could still go about my life without my name being out there. I used a compilation of my initials whereas he is using a shortened version of his middle name.
“I’m Jen.” I fold my hand around his, locking eyes with him. It’s in that moment I registered just how close he got to me. With our height difference, I was forced to look up at him in order to meet those bright blues. As gorgeous as they are in pictures, they’re even more mesmerizing up close. The small section of light brown contrasted the light blue inner iris and the dark blue outline framing everything perfectly. His eyes alone could make anyone’s knees go weak…
“It’s very nice to meet you, Jen.” He muttered, never looking away from me. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, so I transferred my attention to our still connected hands. His large warm hand swallowed my small cold one. Instantly his warmth spread up my entire arm, also sending shivers down my spine.
“The pleasure is all mine…” I brought my eyes back to his. They now had a hint of something in them I didn’t recognize at first. “… Will.”
Before I could get completely lost in his eyes, I pulled my hand out of his, immediately missing the warmth of it. I quickly resumed my slicing, needing something to keep me busy. “So, what are you reading there?” I asked needing to break the tension that was in the air.
“Erm,” He cleared his throat again, taking a step back, “A book my friend told me to check out.” He took it out from under his armpit gripping it with both hands.
“Lemme see.” I wiped my hands off before he handed it over.
My heart dropped. I recognized the cover right away. The one word title flashed across the front like a beacon. The cover art of a guy and a girl standing with their bodies touching, but their hands not letting themselves be connected, denying what they have… My book. He’s reading my book. “Deny by J.J. Ehlby.” I read out loud, careful not to give myself up. I pretended to skim the back cover before handing it back to him. “I didn’t take you for the romance type.”
“What type do you take me as?” He leaned his hip against the counter again, relaxing back into our conversation.
“More…” how do I want to describe this? “well-known and established novelists like Dickens, Tolstoy, Twain, and more importantly Shakespeare. You’re definitely into Shakespeare.” Everything I’ve heard about him mentions his love of Shakespeare. He also participated in a debate about Dickens and Tolstoy. His love of classic literature is something I admired about him. His ability to read, comprehend, and appreciate literary geniuses is rare and praiseworthy.
He chuckled at my obvious stereotyping of him. “Is it because I’m British?” He asked with faux offense attached.
“Yes.” I bluntly answered, only half-kidding.
He full-on laughed at my honesty. He threw his head back and threw his hand over his heart, taking after Chris Evans in that regard. Listening to his laugh echo through the empty kitchen was like listening to the most beautiful symphony. You don’t get to see this type of laugh from him often. It’s always that “hehe” kind of giggle. This was him not caring and letting go. What a sight it was.
I couldn’t help but join in. “Well, am I wrong?” I countered, fully knowing I’m not.
“No!” He choked out, trying to calm himself down. “No, you are not wrong about my love of Classical literature.” He adjusted his glasses back to the tip-top of the bridge of his nose. “But you are wrong about my liking of romance.”
“Oh?”
“I quite like it actually. Shouldn’t falling in love be the best feeling in the world?” I looked up when he didn’t continue. He was watching me like he wants me to understand what he’s trying to say, “That head over heels, my heart is yours and yours mine, can’t live without you, want to spend the rest of my life by your side feeling…” He trailed off, taking a step towards me again. “That heart-pounding, staggered-breathing, knee-trembling, soul-freeing feeling of true love…” His voice dropped a few octaves, losing its sturdiness, only coming out as a whisper by the end. He’s passionate about love, even though he doesn’t have that kind in his life at the moment. How that is even remotely possible is beyond me… His gaze was locked on mine, entrapping me. They were filled with longing and… what I concluded as recognition. Recognition of what? I haven’t figured that out yet… My heart was pounding in my ears almost deafening in the silence. “I quite enjoy reading about two people discovering that feeling.”
All I can think is “Thank God the counter is here” otherwise I would be in a puddle on the floor.
How can a conversation with someone I just met be this intense? How can we be so open with each other with barely knowing the others name? I feel like he’s giving me a look inside his heart but at the same time keeping those guards up that he’s built throughout the years. He’s wearing his heart on his sleeve and showing me everything he’s got right away…
I wrenched myself out from his trance and this time, I took a step away trying to put some distance between us. He may be ready to show me everything, but I’m not. My heart is surrounded by miles of barriers that will be virtually impossible to break down. “Okay, Romeo. I get it.” I sent him a small smile, showing him that I’m not shutting down completely like he might think. “You are a fan of romance.” I strolled over to one of the cupboards, grabbing the powdered sugar, bringing it back over to my plate. “Can I eat my breakfast now?”
“May I join you?” He politely asked, giving me pleading eyes like a toddler gives his mother when asking for a piece of candy or a cookie. Irresistible cuteness.
I stared at the pile on one plate and my prepared plate next to it. I was going to consume the entire lot myself… but I wasn’t about to turn down spending more time with him. I found him a plate, splitting my portion in half for him. A brilliant smile followed nearly knocking me over.
After eating in the dining room, I retreated back upstairs while he offered to clean up. I protested at first, but he insisted, feeling bad that he kept me from eating for longer than I wanted. He practically begged me to so who was I to say no?
I immediately went to my room, locking the door behind me. I rang my agent who was about to get an earful…
“I assure you, Jen, no one had any idea he was there. By all accounts, he was home in London.” She tried to calm me down after I ranted to her before she could even say “hello.” “This could be a good thing!”
“How? I’m supposed to be on vacation, relaxing. How can I do that with the most perfect human being on the planet in the next room?” I flopped back on my bed, eyeing my suitcase full of comfy pants, sweatshirts, and hardly any make-up. I never planned on seeing many people on this trip. The plan was to lock myself in my room for seven straight days before rejoining the world again. I can’t do that now knowing Tom is here. I don’t want him to think I’m a total hermit.
“You also went there to get inspired. With your second book’s first draft already in the editor’s hands, the instant that one comes out, the more they’re going to want. You got lucky with your first few novels already being completed before you even found a publisher, now is the time to get a head start on what’s next for J.J. Ehlby, a.k.a. Jenessee Borosi.”
I rolled my eyes at how predictable she is and for how she used my full name. “So you’re saying I should write a book about this.” I didn’t phrase it as a question for a reason. I’ve been working with her for a year now. She’s been good about not pushing me, but she can’t help it sometimes. I know she has people to answer to, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“Just think about it.” She didn’t deny my indirect accusation. “That ‘After’ book was originally fan-fiction and it was turned into a movie.”
Again my eyes roll. “Being snowed in, in a secluded chalet in the mountains with one of the world’s most brilliant and most well-known actors? What do you think is going to happen? Because of our solitude, we’ll find something in the other that we’ve been missing in everyone else; that we’ll fall in love in a week’s time? That sounds like one of those cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies that are so unrealistic, they’re laughable. That’s not realistic, that’s a fantasy.”
Although… based off our conversation in the kitchen, that’s already not far off, at least for me. I’ve had a major crush on Tom for years prior to this. Only dreaming of being with him, never believing I would actually get the chance to meet him. Me falling for him isn’t completely far-fetched because I’m halfway there already. But him? No way.
“Just think about it.” She repeated before ending the call.
Think about it I did, but quickly came to the conclusion that I would not exploit Tom like that. This is his private time as much as it is mine. I will not expose anything he doesn’t want anyone else to know. I respect myself, my work, and above all, him too much to stoop that low to get my next book idea.
A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts.
“Care to join me downstairs?” He asks as soon as I open the door.
“And do what?” I return, not really caring what he was to suggest. I will take every opportunity given to me to be in the presence of this beautiful man.
“We could read if you brought something to read. I know that’s what I will be doing. You could do whatever it is you like to do.” He rambled on nervously. It was adorable actually. What he had to be nervous about, I have no idea. Was he afraid I would say no? That I might have had enough of him already? Impossible. “I figured since we are the only ones here, and more than likely will be for the foreseeable future, we don’t have to-”
“I like to write.” I interrupted, my slight sadist side being fulfilled by his groveling.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. You can write, and I can read. We can do that… together.” He concluded, all nervousness starting to dissipate.
“Okay. Let me grab my stuff and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Ten minutes later we were sitting in a comfortable silence on the large U-shaped couch, Tom reading my book and me attempting to think of something to write about. However it proved more difficult than I was expecting. The only thing I could think of was him. How he was sitting just feet away, reading my book. I tried to determine where he was in the book depending on his reaction but was failing at that as well. He masked his emotions with a furrowed brow and straight lips. Occasionally that mask broke letting a chuckle slip out. He’s finding it amusing at least. That’s a good sign right?
“Having some difficulty?” He broke the silence, his eyes never straying from his page. Crap, he saw me watching him. I knew I wasn’t being stealthy, but he hasn’t looked up since we sat down. How could he know that I’m having a hard time getting started?
“You could say that.” I shifted my position, hoping that might make me more comfortable and by some miracle have something, anything come to me. Not only is it difficult having him here reading my book, it’s odd having someone else, period, around while I write. I’m always by my lonesome when doing so.  I catch myself making some funny faces while writing. In order to skip any embarrassment by someone seeing them, I prefer solitude. That also doesn’t bring any outside distractions, like I can listen to music, stare off into space, talk to myself- do whatever it takes to come up with what I want to do next. “Writer’s block is rearing its ugly head.” He snickered, my book falling onto his lap. “This bitch is partially the reason why I’m on my solo vacation.” He set my book to the side, giving me his undivided attention, beckoning me to continue. “I thought a change of scenery might help some.”
“And has it?” He asked, seemingly fully invested in what I have to say. I squirmed in my seat, not used to this kind of attention. Growing up an only child with older and younger cousins who are focused on their little group, I was mostly alone. No one really paid attention to me. The adults criticized my decision to become a writer instead of a typical “9 to 5.” Also not having much in common with the next generation young ones, I kept to myself. Instead turning to writing as an outlet for my loneliness. I was extremely hesitant before getting published. My writing is like my diary. I didn’t know if I ever wanted anyone to see that far into my mind. But after rave reviews from my publisher, I decided to go for it. Even during the initial meetings with editors, they didn’t give me as much attention as Tom is giving me right now. To say it’s odd, but greatly appreciated is an understatement.
“It’s given me ideas but putting an idea to paper is more difficult than one would think.” I think back to my agent’s idea. I never said it wasn’t a good proposal, I just said it was cheesy and more than likely, overdone. Why would I want to do something that’s already been done multiple times? Yes, there are always different perspectives on the same story, but my argument stands.
He continues to ask me questions about writing, each more thoughtful than the next, shocking me to no end. No one has taken this much interest in my writing. Not even my publisher. What really throws me through a loop is how genuinely interested he is. Most people ask to be nice or are curious but drop the topic after one or two questions. Not Tom. His curiosity is refreshing and scary at the same time.
“Have you ever wanted to get published?” He asked one of the most common questions I would get. My answer still remains the same to this day.
“No.” He raised his eyebrows at my answer. Everyone who asks is always surprised by my confession.  I shrug, “Since I started, it never was my goal. I wrote for me. I didn’t need anyone to read anything because that’s not who I wrote for.” I look at the pen in my hand and smile. It rests on the writer’s bump on my middle finger I’ve gained from many, many years of writing. I used to loathe it because it made my hand look funny, but I’ve learned to accept it because it makes me unique. “Having a pen in my hand feels as natural as breathing to me. Ever since I wrote my first “novel” in 5th grade, I’ve almost always been writing. Everyone I went to school with knew me as ‘the girl who writes a lot’.
As I got older, that’s when people started asking if I wanted to publish someday. My answer was always no, because I never thought I was good enough to and criticism and I don’t go hand-in-hand. I read a quote once that said: ‘Wanting to be a writer and not wanting to be rejected is like wanting to be a boxer and not wanting to get punched.’ It’s not the rejection that held me back. I know that’s par for the course, just like it is with acting. My fear was all of the negative criticism that my books were bound to get. I’m the type of person who could get 100 compliments and one negative remark and only focus on the one negative comment. That would stick with me longer than any of the good.” Because of that, I almost said no when I was offered to publish. I was urged to because of the concept I had. The publisher loved that it was never done before and all of the ideas I had from it, they practically begged me. So after a year of editing, it was published a month ago. I have yet to read a single review though. The only thing I heard was it was doing really well.
“I tried putting something online, but because it wasn’t fan-fiction or have any supernatural elements incorporated, it didn’t take off.” I shrugged off its initial failure. That’s what caught my publisher’s attention though. They liked the overall premise and once they heard what I planned on doing with it, they were on board. “Because you know, that’s all anyone under the age of 25 cares about nowadays.” Shrugging again like it was no big deal, I returned my blank pages in front of me, hoping words would have magically appeared while talking. No such luck.
“Have you ever written anything other than novels?” He questioned, taking into account what I’ve told him. Novels have always been my go-to. I just have had so much to say and so much to write that all of my works have turned into multi-chapter stories. “Have you tried a novella or just a short story?” I shake my head. I’ve seen and read short stories and one-shots on Tumblr, but never tried my hand at it. I guess I could try it… “I say, try that. See where it takes that beautiful mind of yours.”
My head snapped towards him. Beautiful? How could he think that if he’s barely scratched the surface?
He smiled sweetly at me, warming my insides more than I ever expected before opening my book back up.
As we returned to the silence, my mind raced at the possibilities. I logged on to Pinterest and looked up some writing prompts to see if anything sparked some ideas. It didn’t take me long before I found one and I was already 5 written pages in. It felt good to write again. Having the ideas pour out of my mind and onto the paper is an exciting feeling that only a writer can appreciate.
Soon enough the sun was setting and neither of us had moved since we sat down. It was a quiet afternoon that I was yearning for while on this trip. And to share it with Tom was just an added bonus.
I only paused when my hand started to cramp. Tom seemed to have noticed so he suggested we think about dinner. It wasn’t until he mentioned food that I realized how hungry I was.
He insisted on making dinner for us since I (unintentionally) made breakfast/lunch for us earlier. He didn’t know what he should make so I made a suggestion: pickle and bacon grilled cheese. He was intrigued by the idea, so he agreed. I tried to help but he shooed me away, telling me to grab a glass of wine and enjoy the show, only asking me how much bacon to use and how many pickles to cut up. He started asking questions about my upbringing to which I did the same. We both discussed the ways our respective parents divorces paved our lives into what they are today but didn’t get too deep or else I would have cried. I would need a lot more wine for that to happen. He at least found the positive aspects from his situation whereas I definitely haven’t. He credits his parents divorce for showing him human frailty and how he can be more compassionate in his understanding of it. With him being 12 when it happened, he was old enough to understand what was happening. I admire him for the way he has taken something tragic and turned into something positive. As if I didn’t know this already, but he’s a much better person than I am.
By the time he was finished making 4 sandwiches: 3 with pickles and bacon and 1 regular, in case he didn’t like my add-ons or in case we were both still hungry afterwards. He wound up loving it, even adding more to his plain one. He couldn’t believe he went so long without trying it and vowed never to go back to regular grilled cheese sandwiches. Mission accomplished.
“Are you going to get back to your writing now? You looked… rather inspired before. I didn’t want to interrupt.” He asked as he walked me to my room for the night. 
We both cleaned up the kitchen, much to his protest. But I argued my point and he couldn’t say no. He told me all about growing up in Wimbledon with his sisters, going to an all-boys prep school to graduating with a “double first” in Classics at Cambridge and attending the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. I listened in awe of all he accomplished while I was still in elementary school, before I even discovered my passion for writing. He raved about the small projects he’s done since graduating, focusing on theater. I could tell he was purposely not mentioning Marvel or any other movie he’s done since gaining recognition, wanting his anonymity to stay that. I just listened while handing him dish after dish. Thankfully there weren’t very many, but we took our sweet time doing it. I loved hearing him talk. That accent could make anything sound interesting. But other than that, hearing the passion in his voice as he talked about the theater and how he discovered his love for acting by going as a boy was awe-inspiring. After he rambled, he apologized for only talking about himself while we were cleaning up. I of course didn’t mind, hating talking about myself so it was nice to talk about him and learn more about him from the source and not from the internet.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “We’ll see if I can get back into the swing of it.”
“Well I believe in you.” He smiled, stopping in front of my door. “I believe you can do it.”
“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure?” His confidence in me is astounding.
“Well, not to sound like a creep, but erm,” he hesitated, “I was watching you before.”
Dear Lord, why? Why did he have to watch me? He saw the faces I make, my staring off into space, and hand gestures I do to recreate the picture in my head… I’m mortified.
“You were so engrossed in what you were writing. I could quite literally see the wheels turning in your head as you were figuring out what to do next.” His tone was filled with as much awe as I did listening to him. “It was mesmerizing.”
Feeling the blush creep in, I looked away from his wonder-filled eyes. No one has ever found something I do “mesmerizing” or anything remotely interesting. So, why does he? Why does he out of all of the people in the world find me so worthy of that kind of praise?
As I sat on my bed after we said good night, I finally could comprehend everything that happened today. I spent the day with Tom Hiddleston. I had uninterrupted quality time with him. No pressure of being watched, judged, or rushed. We had a relaxing day enjoying each other’s company like we were 2 friends on vacation together.
Is he a friend? Or am I jumping the gun here? Would he consider me one after we get out of here? Would he want to keep in contact? Or would I just become a memory that fades as time goes on? On the other hand, why would he even want someone like me in his life? He’s probably got plenty of friends that would be much better company than me. People who he can have intelligent conversations with and go in depth about things I know nothing about. I’d bore him and he’d drop me. But being a gentleman, he’d do it nicely. So there would be that.
I’m not going to have any expectations when it comes to after this week. As far as I’m concerned, after we are clear to leave, we will go our own ways and never think about the other again… well, that’ll only be half true. There’s no way I could ever forget about him. He’ll be everywhere. Me? I’ll only be a memory. He’ll have no reminders of me. He’ll forget about our time together once he gets back to the chaos that is Hollywood. So I will enjoy his attention while I have it…
day two...
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