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serahsanguine · 5 years

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Whats Left Unsaid, Says It All

What’s Left Unsaid, Says it all part 8/?

Rating; NC-17, NSFW

This Story can be found at Ao3

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part5, part 6, Part 7,

Tagging; @peacenik0 @today-in-fic

p.s. if you would like updates and be tagged please let me know

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Chapter 8; The Burning Question.

"Hey, what’s up G-Man?" Frohike said while cooking up some Huevos Rancheros for himself, Langley and Byers as an afternoon snack. The cast iron skillet was sizzling with oil and he carefully placed six eggs in, then added peppers, tomatoes and beans.

"I need you to hack some medical records for me, ASAP" Mulder growled down the line, staring at Scully and her children.

"Yeah, no problem, whose medical records?"

"Scully’s" Mulder sighed.

"Whoa, whoa... why?" Frohike questioned, sprinkle some chilli powder on the omelette.

"It doesn't matter why. Can you do it or not, Frohike?"

"Yes, of course. We’ll get on it now."

Mulder hung the phone up and shoved it in his pocket; he was so angry... at himself, at Scully, at Melissa, at everyone. Dammit, how could he have been so stupid? So fucking stupid. He fucking loved a woman that had quite obviously cheated on him, ran away for him and left her job as his FBI partner. He felt like such a damn fool. He started walking quickly back to his car, just around the corner from the park, as soon as Scully was nowhere in sight.

Dark grey clouds started floating over the beautiful blue May sky, little raindrops falling from above but he was so lost in his mind that he didn’t realise; thoughts of Scully but more importantly he could not get passed her children... a little boy, all pale complexion with beautiful blue eyes and fiery red hair and a slightly more plump little girl with long brown chestnut hair and greenish-blue eyes. She looked so much like Samantha but this was not possible, neither child was his. Maybe when the little one called out dad she was mistaken, perhaps her real father looked like him.

He hadn’t been able to get the dream of him, Scully and their little family out of his head, even though he hadn’t wanted a family - well, not until this dream played on a loop in his subconscious, playing out numerous different happy family scenarios.

Mulder dreamt of their first Christmas together with lots of presents under the tree and him dressing up as santa, making his girls laugh. God, he loved to make Scully laugh. He dreamt of his daughter's first steps, first words. Suddenly, tears were streaming down his face and mixing with the rainwater as he reached his car, unlocked it and put the key in the ignition.

He realised he needed a stiff drink of alcohol to forget this day, forget what he saw, forget his life just for a little while, so he drove to the nearest D.C. bar.

The Next day

Mulder woke up face down on his leather sofa, still in the clothes he was wearing from the day before with empty liquor bottles everywhere and dirty clothes as far as the eye can see.

The sun was shining full force through the window, he looked up and groaned - his head hurt and his throat was sore. He had drunk his body weight three times over before getting home and then drinking some more just to make sure he got the job done.

He rolled over, swinging his legs off the sofa and planting his feet firmly on the floor and just sat there contemplating what to do next for a minute, he needed a plan but he couldn’t think straight with this epic hangover pulsing through his body.

He needed some coffee, painkillers and a hot shower immediately.

Mulder looked down at his clothes, absolutely disgusted, that he had slept in the clothes from the day before. They now stuck to his body, clinging to him from the sweat that had built up during the night, getting up he swayed on his legs ever so slightly but quickly regained his balance before walking over and turning on the coffee machine, grabbing two Advil out of the cupboard along with a glass of water. He swallowed the pills, moaning because his throat felt like sandpaper.

What the fuck had he got up to last night? It was all a bit of a blur at the moment.

He walked through to the bathroom, discarding his clothes along the way, before getting into the shower and turning it on to wash away the side effects of the night before.

One hour later: Mulder had put on some clean-ish clothes and was now sitting at his desk contemplating what to do, while drinking coffee and waiting for the information to come back from the Lone Gunmen.

Staring into his PC monitor, he tried to put things in order of his brain, when suddenly it hit him his bright idea like an epiphany of sorts, grabbing his mobile, keys and jacket before heading out the door and drove to Maggie's house, parking his normal spot before ringing Melissa Scully.

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

Melissa was playing peek a boo with the twins watching them laugh and smile while Scully sat on her mom's sofa drinking a small cup of tea when suddenly Melissa's phone rang - unknown number appearing on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Melissa. It’s Mulder, can you talk?"

Scully sat there looking at her sister mouthing ‘Who is it?'. Melissa looked back at her sister with a startling impression on her face and mouthed back ‘Mul-der ’. Scully gave her a look that said take it outside before the twins made some noise.

"Of course, give me a minute? I just need to go outside where it's... quiet"

"Okay" Mulder mumbled, trying to hold back his emotions.

Melissa wandered outside, closing the front door behind herself, and sat down on the bench in her mom’s garden just underneath the front window. And without knowing it she was now in the direct eye line of Mulder, who was sitting in his car across the street.

"How are you, Mulder?" Melissa asked, her patented kindness on show.

"I’m fine" Missy could tell that Mulder was lying but didn't push the subject "I was wondering if we could meet up somewhere when your back in D.C." he asked.

"I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, after the last encounter we had. You scared me, Mulder"

"I know, and you’re probably right... but I want to apologize for my behaviour" and ask about those children I saw your sister with at the park, he wanted to add but stopped himself.

"OK, but it has to be somewhere public..."

"That's fine by me. How about you meet me at 'The Sheppard' and you decide the date and time" Mulder interrupted, not wanting to give up on a meeting that could give him the answers to all of the questions in his mind right now.

"The Sheppard works. Say this Thursday... at 7 o'clock?" Melissa offered.

"OK, see you then" Mulder agreed.

Both hung up at the exact same time. Mulder watched Missy as Scully opened the front door with the little girl on her hip and stepped backwards to her sister could come back into the house. Now that the time and date was set; the first part of his plan was achieved. Just two more days until he finally got some answers. Mulder drove off in the direction of the Hoover building.

Meanwhile, the moment Missy stepped through the door she took Elissa from Scully and wrapped herself in her niece' embrace before letting out a small sigh before answering any and all questions by her mother and sister that were likely to be headed her way any minute now.

The Sheppard 7 pm Thursday

Mulder sat at the bar, nursing a beer he had bought twenty minutes ago, he wanted to be sober when this conversation happened. But his mind was screaming for him to be drunk, he was doing the right thing he definitely needed to be calm and collected, needed to know everything about those children he saw with Scully... needed to know if they were his.

It had been all he could think about for the past two days. Work, as usual, was unproductive and Skinner even sent him home, having become tired of the brooding and angry vibes coming off of him in waves.

A few minutes later he saw a bounce of red hair come through the door, looking up what he saw unnerved him. It wasn't Melissa like he was expecting it to be. No, who he saw was more petite than her. It was Scully (his Scully) with her glowing crimson hair and deep blue eyes that had walked into the bar.

Mulder was shocked, to say the least, and it certainly was an unexpected turn of events but it gave him hope that he would actually get the answers he was looking for... straight from the source.

Scully walked over to him wearing casual dark jeans and a white blouse with a thin light jacket over the top. She looked amazing even though he had seen her just a few days ago. She would always take his breath away, he thought.

She sat down next to him quickly ordering a diet coke and looked up at him, shyly.

"Hey, Mulder"

"Scully"

‘I know you weren't expecting me, but I hope you don't mind that I've come in Missy's place"

Well, yes actually I do mind! This would've been a damn sight easier if it was Melissa, Mulder thought but what he actually said was "No, I don't mind. It's nice to see you, you look good. You've changed"

"Yes. A lot has changed since..." Scully trailed off not finishing the sentence as she could not bring herself to say the words - I left without telling you why. No, I ran away like a scared child... taking your kids with me.

"Care to tell me what has changed in your life?" God, he sounds like a asshole right now but he wanted her to say it, to admit to something. When did speaking to her become so damn hard?

"Nothing... well, nothing important anyway" a brief awkward silence fell upon them, until Mulder realised she wasn't going to say anything so he just had to man up and ask and see where it went from there even if it terrified him.

"So, you've been in D.C. for a couple of days then?" Mulder thought he sounded smooth and casual but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

"I have..." How could he know? What if he saw me with the twins? What if.. oh god. I don't think I can do this. What if he asks about them? "Why?" Scully wondered out loud.

"Well," How am I going to bring this up? Just blurt it out or dance around the fact? Then Scully looked at him with her eyebrow raised as if to continue the sentence "I saw you. Umm, the other day... at the park... with two small children"

Before Mulder could even get out the next part of his question Scully interrupted him.

"They aren't mine, Mulder. They're Melissa's kids... she came back from California with them. Completely freaked Mom out, it was actually kind of funny"

"Don't lie to me! Scully, we both know you're better than that... or at least you used to be" Mulder spat, a hint of aggression in his voice now. He hated being lied to especially by Scully and especially after everything she had done to him, he just wanted the truth. That's all.

"I..."

"I heard them. I saw them, Scully. They're yours, I know they are. So, just tell me the truth"

"Yes," She took a deep breath in, willing herself to stay calm and be honest with him "They are mine"

Finally, the truth! It's all he has wanted. His whole life, ever since losing Samantha. It was all about finding the truth. He looked down at his beer on the bar top. He needed to push her just a little further, that all important burning question on his lips. "Are they mine?"

"No"

Mulder looked at her and knew without a doubt that she was lying, and she knew that he knew that too. Plus, she was way to quick and resolute with her answer... too quick on the mark as they say, to indifferent about the whole situation.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Dana! The little girl... she is the spitting image of my sister, Samantha. I want to see them, I want to get to know them. They deserve to know their father, don't you think?" Mulder knew that he was raising his voice but he didn't care right now. Scully was lying straight to his face, and refusing to admit what they both know - that he is their father.

"No! Mulder, stop!" Scully stood up, paid for her drink and walked away. Mulder quickly thumbed through his wallet putting a 20 dollar bill on the bar and running after her.

"Scully, they're my children too. You can't deny me the chance to see my own flesh and blood!"

Scully didn't look at him as she got up and walked towards the door. She didn't turn around when he called her name in the most heartbreaking anguish she had ever heard. So, he made him turn around, by grabbing her wrist and spinning her around so he could see her face.

"Dammit, Scully! I want to know my children... I have a right to see them" Mulder was still shouting. He was so damn angry at her for not letting him see his own children! He wanted to see them, wanted to get to know... wanted them to have a different relationship with him that he had with his own parents.

"No, now let me go!"

"Scully, please! I want to see them, just let me see them... once!"

"No, Mulder. Let go of me... NOW!" Scully demanded, trying to yank her wrist free and leaving the bar... to get away from Mulder.

"Fuck you, Scully!" Mulder screamed back before bending down and kissing her. It came out of nowhere, just an impulse... no thinking required. Just do!

As soon as his lips touched hers it was like magic and fireworks exploding between them.

She opened his mouth more with her own and their tongues touched for the first time in more than a year. She had missed him as much as he had missed her but she was so lost and everything was a mess. What was she doing? No, she shouldn't be doing this! Not now!

Scully pulled back, raising her hand to his face - the impact of the hit nearly knocked him off his feet. And the sound it made, you could hear it bouncing off of the walls of the dark alley.

She turned around and quickly flagged down a taxi.

"Scully, I am sorry. I really am!" Mulder tried to apologise, for what he had no idea but it felt like the correct response.

She didn't acknowledge him, didn't even respond to him as she slammed the door of the taxi and left him there on the sidewalk, only then did she let the tears fall.

For all of the consequences of their actions... and for what the future holds now.

#mulder and scully #WLUSIA #the x files #the x files fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #msr #x files

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matthewdaddariodaily · 7 years

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1. If anyone could play you in a movie, who would you pick?

Cate Blanchett would kill it. Can you see if she’s available?

2. What’s the first album you ever bought?

Hahaha, no.

3. Describe your style in three words.

Things that fit.

4. Craziest fan story?

One time I walked in to a store and a guy came over to help. He’s talking to me for a minute and I’m being semi socially-capable. He takes a step back, looks me up and down and says, “Hey, wait a minute…you look like that boy from that show.” I go, “Yeah?” And he says, “Yeah, that kid from (show name redacted) show. Damn. You look just like him.” It was a different show with a guy who shoots arrows. I was like, “Oh, yeah I hear that sometimes.”

5. Last book you read?

[I’ve] been reading Dune. It’s nice when you haven’t read a book in ten years so you forget most of it and it’s like reading it anew. So great.

6. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

When that dweeb stops at the top of the escalator realizing he’s not sure if he’s going in the right direction and it causes a five-person pileup behind him.

7. What’s the most memorable concert you’ve been to?

With things like this the memorable ones seem to be the ones people can’t remember.

8. Last person who texted you?

My manager, Donnalyn. Making sure I answered the BuzzFeed questions. I told her I did.

9. Which emoji do you use the most?

The one with the eyes where it looks like he’s caught but tries to poker face and fails. Also sometimes I write out the description of the face.

10. Who’s your doppelgänger?

Some dude who lives around Union Square keeps getting me in trouble with friends. About 10 different people: “I saw you at Union square and called out but you didn’t answer!” Me: “I’m in Toronto.”

11. Favorite reality show?

That one where they cook a meal under pressure and if they don’t do it in time or it isn’t good enough they have to enter a gladiatorial pit vs some unspeakable ancient horror. Love that show. Also, I like Planet Earth.

12. Celebrity crush?

I’m not good at crushes. What if they don’t like the same food as me? I can’t handle that kind of letdown.

13. What’s one thing you can’t live without?

Fried cheese.

14. Guilty pleasure?

Frying cheddar cheese and parmesan in a cast iron skillet and then eating it until I’m gross.

15. Go-to comfort food?

I put that cheese from above in my belly until I am comfortable.

16. Dream vacation spot?

Big city/warm beach.

17. Hidden talent?

Really, really good at eating sticky oily things out of a smoking hot iron pan.

18. What’s one word you say too often?

I probably curse too often. It’s fun to do with friends, enemies, when you fall down, when you watch sports…all the time really. It’s just kinda great. But if anyone reads this…don’t curse. It’s bad, and if you all start doing it all the time it won’t be as fun when I do it.

19. Favorite place to visit?

The Natural History Museum in New York. They have a gem I want to steal. But I won’t. Winky face.

20. Name something on your bucket list.

This feels like a very personal question, BuzzFeed. I am tempted to make something up. I want to be the president for two years and am impeached successfully after a fake scandal. Then, the following year I’m vindicated, and everyone wants me to be president again but I’m busy with other stuff.

21. If you could invite five people—living or dead—to a dinner party, who would they be?

I was just in Rome. Give me an emperor, a gladiator, a cynic, an actor and some tough Roman lady. Then we drink wine.

22. Biggest fear?

Food poisoning. I hate it. I hate it so much. And you know what’s weird? High end restaurants are most often the guilty ones.

23. Best piece of advice you’ve ever been given?

“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry” seems to always prove itself accurate.

24. Background wallpaper on your phone?

A dog eating flowers.

25. Favorite song of 2016?

I like the song from Narcos.

26. What’s the last thing you searched for on Google?

“What is a dry riser.” I could pretend that it was something funny or deep but that would be lying, and everyone knows people don’t lie in interviews to make themselves more appealing or interesting.

27. What do you hope for in 2017?

I wrote out a sincere and sappy answer about society as a whole but realized I just really want them to find Genghis Khan’s tomb this year.

#matthew daddario #buzzfeed #interview #news

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gabrielmazlik-blog · 7 years

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27 Things We Learned On Set with Gabriel Mazlik:

1. If anyone could play you in a movie, who would you pick? Cate Blanchett would kill it, can you see if she’s available?

2. What’s the first album you ever bought? Hahaha, no.

3. Describe your style in three words. Things that fit.

4. Craziest fan story? One time I walked in to a store and a guy came over to help. He’s talking to me for a minute and I’m being semi socially-capable. He takes a step back, looks me up and down and says, “Hey, wait a minute…you look like that boy from that show.” I go, “Yeah?” And he says, “Yeah, that kid from (show name redacted) show. Damn. You look just like him.” It was a different show with a guy who shoots arrows. I was like, “Oh, yeah I hear that sometimes.”

5. Last book you read? I’ve been reading Dune. It’s nice when you haven’t read a book in ten years so you forget most of it and it’s like reading it anew. So great.

6. What is your biggest pet peeve? When that dweeb stops at the top of the escalator realizing he’s not sure if he’s going in the right direction and it causes a five-person pileup behind him. That dweeb is usually Dom, and the pileup starts when I try and push through him.

7. What’s the most memorable concert you’ve been to? It seems with things like this the most note worthy ones are the ones you can’t remember at all.

8. Last person who texted you? My manager asking if I had answered the Buzzfeed questions, I told her I took them very seriously.

9. Which emoji do you use most? The one with the eyes where it looks like he’s caught but tries to poker face and fails. Also sometimes I write out the description of the face.

10. Who’s your doppelgänger? Some dude who lives around Union Square keeps getting me in trouble with friends. About 10 different people: “I saw you at Union square and called out but you didn’t answer!” Me: “I’m in Los Angeles.”

11. Favorite reality show? That one where they cook a meal under pressure and if they don’t do it in time or it isn’t good enough they have to enter a gladiatorial pit vs some unspeakable ancient horror. Love that show. Also, I like Planet Earth.

12. Celebrity crush? I’m not good at crushes. What if they don’t like the same food as me? I can’t handle that kind of letdown.

13. What’s one thing you can’t live without? Fried cheese.

14. Guilty pleasure? Frying cheddar cheese and parmesan in a cast iron skillet and then eating it until I’m gross. I had the feeling that fried cheese was not descriptive enough, I had to paint a picture of it.

15. Go-to comfort food? I put that cheese from above in my belly until I am comfortable.

16. Dream vacation spot? Big city/warm beach.

17. Hidden talent? Really, really good at eating sticky oily things out of a smoking hot iron pan.

18. What’s one word you say too often? I probably curse too often. It’s fun to do with friends, enemies, when you fall down, when you watch sports, when you burn your thumb on a really hot pan…all the time really. It’s just kinda great. But if anyone reads this…don’t curse. It’s bad, and if you all start doing it all the time it won’t be as fun when I do it.

19. Favorite place to visit? The Natural History Museum in New York. They have a gem I want to steal. But I won’t. Winky face.

20. Name something on your bucket list. This feels like a very personal question, BuzzFeed. I am tempted to make something up. I want to be the president of the United States for two years and am impeached successfully after a fake scandal. Then, the following year I’m vindicated, and everyone wants me to be president again but I’m busy with other stuff. My bucket lists ignores the fact that I’m not American.

21. If you could invite five people—living or dead—to a dinner party, who would they be? I was just in Rome. Give me an emperor, a gladiator, a cynic, an actor and some tough Bulgarian lady. Then we drink wine.

22. Biggest fear? Food poisioning. I hate it. I hate it so much. It’s like the best joy in life betrays you, and usually high end restaurants are the guilty ones.

23. Best piece of advice you’ve ever been given? “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry” seems to always prove itself accurate.

24. Background wallpaper on your phone? A dog eating flowers.

25. Favorite song right now? Everywhere I go I hear this one song about living forever, that one’s pretty cool. It’s also stuck in my head and definitely not my way of getting out of answering this question. That would be absurd.

26. What’s the last thing you searched for on Google? “What is a dry riser.” I could pretend that it was something funny or deep but that would be lying, and everyone knows people don’t lie in interviews to make themselves more appealing or interesting.

27. What do you hope for in 2017? I wrote out a sincere and sappy answer about society as a whole but realized I just REALLY want them to find Genghis Khan’s tomb this year.

#(I know this is a long post but I love this interview. And I kept MOST of Matt's answers because he fits Gabriel too perfectly.)#G.#hc;

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aleclightwoodcreations-blog · 7 years

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27 Things We Learned On Set With Matthew Daddario

Get to know the Shadowhunters star!

posted on Jan. 4, 2017, at 7:08 a.m.

https://www.buzzfeed.com/kristinharris/on-set-with-matthew-daddario?utm_term=.upZGmPoLV#.jb3brpXW0

1. If anyone could play you in a movie, who would you pick?

Cate Blanchett would kill it. Can you see if she’s available?

2. What’s the first album you ever bought?

Hahaha, no.

3. Describe your style in three words.

Things that fit.

4. Craziest fan story?

5. Last book you read?

[I’ve] been reading Dune. It’s nice when you haven’t read a book in ten years so you forget most of it and it’s like reading it anew. So great.

6. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

When that dweeb stops at the top of the escalator realizing he’s not sure if he’s going in the right direction and it causes a five-person pileup behind him.

7. What’s the most memorable concert you’ve been to?

With things like this the memorable ones seem to be the ones people can’t remember.

8. Last person who texted you?

My manager, Donnalyn. Making sure I answered the BuzzFeed questions. I told her I did.

9. Which emoji do you use the most?

The one with the eyes where it looks like he’s caught but tries to poker face and fails. Also sometimes I write out the description of the face.

10. Who’s your doppelgänger?

11. Favorite reality show?

12. Celebrity crush?

I’m not good at crushes. What if they don’t like the same food as me? I can’t handle that kind of letdown.

13. What’s one thing you can’t live without?

Fried cheese.

14. Guilty pleasure?

Frying cheddar cheese and parmesan in a cast iron skillet and then eating it until I’m gross.

15. Go-to comfort food?

I put that cheese from above in my belly until I am comfortable.

16. Dream vacation spot?

Big city/warm beach.

17. Hidden talent?

Really, really good at eating sticky oily things out of a smoking hot iron pan.

18. What’s one word you say too often?

19. Favorite place to visit?

The Natural History Museum in New York. They have a gem I want to steal. But I won’t. Winky face.

20. Name something on your bucket list.

21. If you could invite five people—living or dead—to a dinner party, who would they be?

I was just in Rome. Give me an emperor, a gladiator, a cynic, an actor and some tough Roman lady. Then we drink wine.

22. Biggest fear?

Food poisoning. I hate it. I hate it so much. And you know what’s weird? High end restaurants are most often the guilty ones.

23. Best piece of advice you’ve ever been given?

“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry” seems to always prove itself accurate.

24. Background wallpaper on your phone?

A dog eating flowers.

25. Favorite song of 2016?

I like the song from Narcos.

26. What’s the last thing you searched for on Google?

27. What do you hope for in 2017?

I wrote out a sincere and sappy answer about society as a whole but realized I just really want them to find Genghis Khan’s tomb this year.

Catch Matt in season two of Shadowhunters every Monday at 8 p.m. ET on Freeform!

#Matthew Daddario #shadowhunters #Alec Lightwood

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ryik-the-writer · 5 years

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Rumbelle fic: A Sitting Deal

A Sitting Deal 3/6

A03 Link

Rating: T+

Summary: With the threat of a rent increase being held over her head, Lacey E. French makes a deal with Mr. Gold to babysit his three-year-old son. Soon however the town troublemaker finds herself getting close to her landlord and son…which just can’t be good!

“Faq faq faq!” Lacey cursed around her tooth brush as she combed her hair and attempted to jump into a pair of pants.

She’d overslept. A classic Lacey-move on the wrong day.

A victory shot at Granny’s turned into a 2 a.m. fumble into her apartment. When she woke up at 8:15 a.m. the splintering headache she earned became the least of her problems.

She stumbled up his front step and had her hand poised to knock when the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Gold and a squalling Baelfire.

“What part of ‘get here early’ did you not comprehend?” He seethed as he fumbled on the entry table until he pulled out a pacifier, coaxing it into the babe’s mouth.

Lacey flinched and followed the grumbling man into the living room, taking note at his pristine house where the few toys and playpen looked woefully out of place.

“Shit happens man,” Lacey muttered.

With Baelfire pacified, Gold was able to put the boy in his playpen so that he could thoroughly roast his tardy babysitter.

“Isn’t he a bit to old for one of those?” Lacey questioned to wait out some of the heat.

“Not necessarily,” Gold answered, his tone still hard. “Children develop differently.” He ran a hand over Bae’s curls. “He can’t even speak yet.”

Before Lacey’s curiosity could be peaked, he turned back to her, his glare stabbing.

“But more importantly if this is what your behavior is going to be, Miss French, then you can forget our deal right now.”

“Firstly, I already signed the contract so like hell you will,” Lacey snarked. “Secondly…” the barfly willed herself to ease her temper. Lacey E. French did not kiss up, but she knew how to play cards in her favor.

“It won’t happen again,” she assured with a plastic angel smile.

“Consider this your only free pass from me then.” Gold hurried past Lacey and prepared to leave Baelfire—his reason for living—into Lacey’s inexperienced care.

“His schedule’s on the coffee table and the emergency numbers are on the refrigerator.” Gold spoke as he readied his key

“Um…yeah” Lacey shrugged as she leaned against the doorframe.

Gold stopped at the bottom step, a dramatic pause following his lapse.

Suddenly, Gold turned back to her and closed the distance with them with his cane.

“And finally, Miss French,” Gold spoke cordially, as if he were reminding her to water a plant. “If anything at all happens to my son—and I mean anything—I will make you pay in ways you wouldn’t even begin to imagine.”

Lacey seethed. “Who the—”

“Not in front of the babe, Miss French,” Gold cut her off with half a predatorial smirk. “Until later,”

Lacey gaped after him, clucking her tongue in her own quiet retaliation.

“Whatever dick,” Lacey scoffed as she kicked the door closed. As she approached the living room Baelfire used the walls of the pen to assist him with standing, his pools of chocolate looking up at her as she flopped on the couch.

“What?” she teased as she reached for the remote, sparing a thought to how weird it actually was that Gold owned a television at all. She always assumed he entertained his self by counting money or painting the walls with his victims’ blood.

She was about to settle on a rerun of Law and Order when suddenly a wet object smacked her right in the face.

“The fuck!” Lacey snarled as she jumped up and scrubbed her cheek. At the end of the very couch she had been sitting on was Baelfire’s pacifier. She turned a dark look on the boy as he cooed and babbled.

“Brat,” Lacey hissed as she tossed the pacifier back into the pen, folding her arms in defense. “What the hell do you want?”

Baelfire lifted his arms up.

“No,” Lacey deadpanned. “I’m not holding you, geez.”

Baelfire’s lip went out and Lacey watched in horror as it began to tremble. Then his pudgy body shuddered before he let out a great cry.

“Damn it,” Lacey panicked, fidgeting over the pen. With a disgusted sound she bent down and lifted Bae, his cry slowing down.

She held him at arm’s length, legit unsure of how to hold him. His wailing was beginning to build up again from the pressure under his arms.

“Alright,” Lacey yelled, hesitating before pressing him into her chest. She fumbled a bit to correct her grip, causing him to whine. Out of desperation she grasped his diaper area and head and smothered him into her chest.

“Um…” she breathed, wrinkling her nose when the boy pawed at her t-shirt dangerously close to her breast.

“Easy kid,” Lacey warned, clutching him close as she eased herself onto the couch. The stability of having a surface under them helped Lacey relaxed and decide on a course of action.

“Um…you…” Lacey looked around and grabbed the remote, flipping through channels until she found some loud colorful kiddie show. She glanced warily at Baelfire and breathed in relief when he turned his full attention to the television.

“Thank Christ,” Lacey said, easing herself off the couch. She looked around and blessedly found the schedule Gold mentioned.

8 – 8:30 a.m. – Breakfast

“Wasn’t there for that that.” Lacey snorted.

8: 30 – 9 a.m. – Wash and Dress

9:00 – 9:30 a.m – Phonics cards

“What the hell are phonics cards?” she muttered, scanning down the list.

9:30 – 10 a.m. – Educational Television

The young barfly flipped to a different channel, clucking in amusement when the cartoon cat and mouse began beating each other with pipes.

“Educational enough for ya,” she snorted to the kid, glancing over to see that his eyes were still locked to the screen.

“On the job twenty minutes and I’m already a pro,” she bragged to herself, throwing her feet back on the coffee table and continuing to run through Bae’s schedule.

10 – 11 p.m. Playtime

“You’ll be doing that solo,” Belle muttered.

11:30 to 12 p.m. – Lunch

Lacey’s stomach rumbled at the concept of food. She hadn’t eaten since her barely passable lunch yesterday. It was a miracle last night’s alcohol was still resting as well as it was.

It was barely past nine, but what was wrong with a little post-breakfast snacking?

“Stay put.” She ordered as she strolled to the kitchen.

She frowned at Gold’s fridge selections. Scraps of sandwich stuff. Cartoon encrypted yogurts targeted specifically for kids, which Lacey proceeded to grab.

The cabinets did little to impress her as well. Gold had stocked up on child-friendly snacks but not much else. When was the last time the old bag had a decent meal?

Lacey shrugged and grabbed a pack of animal crackers. It wasn’t in her pay grade to care whether Gold ate or not.

“Here kiddo,” she said to Bae as she dropped the snack at his feet. “Eat up,”

Bae cooed as he tried to tear open the package, his frustration building as his chubby fingers struggled to grip the slick packaging.

Lacey clucked her tongue and reached over to get a rip started, watching with a hint of a smirk when the boy began shoving sugary lions and bears into his mouth.

12 – 12:30 p.m. – Mozart Music CD’s

“Mozart, seriously?”

With a scoff she tossed the schedule aside and glanced at Baelfire’s unbelievably tiny form. Gold had every second of his day planned with none to spare. He probably didn’t notice it now being so young, but what would happen when he was a teenager? Gold was going to smother this kid to death!

Lacey thought about Belle. Always together, but under so much pressure to be perfect—not for her reputation per say, but for a future she had been so uncertain she would have. How many times had she wanted to quit? How many times had she been pushed too hard?

Lacey crumbled up the schedule and tossed it aside.

“Alright kiddo, if I’m stuck here with you for the next six hours, we’re going to do shit my way. Come on!”

Baelfire looked at her and recognized her gesture. He allowed the rest of his animal crackers to spread over the couch before he carefully climbed down and toddled after his self-made babysitter.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gold rushed to get to the front door, his ears straining for the sound of his son’s babble.

His day at the shop had been too quiet, too productive without his little boy underfoot. It was a terrifying change from what he had trained his brain to adapt to, and if he didn’t see his son in the next ten seconds he would collapse.

He heard the loud banging sounds before he even opened the door, but without the sound of his son screaming he sustained from jumping into full-panic mode.

“Bae?” he called out, flinching when he heard another series of bangs. He limped through his once immaculate living room where the TV was blaring and crackers were crushed into his couch.

On top of that there were crayons and crudely drawn pictures on his coffee table, blocks strewn across the floor, and was that a melted dinosaur on his priceless aqua lamp?

“Lacey,” Gold growled, flinching when the sounds continued. As irritation swallowed his shock, he pushed into the kitchen to find a very unconventional site.

Baelfire was giggling on the floor as he beat an expensive ladle against an even more expensive cast-iron skillet.

On the counter was Lacey slamming two pot lids together as her phone vibrated with demonic music screaming from the speaker.

Gold felt his brain begin to swell with a migraine from the noise and the mess. As he reached over to cut off Lacey’s music, he resisted the urge to grab her throat right along with it.

“Hey!” Lacey protested, dropping the pot lids.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

Lacey motioned to Bae who continued to play unperturbed. “Music lesson.”

Gold continued to glare at her as he went around the counter to gently pry the dishes from his hands.

“His ‘music’ lesson was supposed to be a Mozart CD while you laid him down for his nap, which,” Gold motioned around the kitchen, “It would seem you neglected to do.”

Lacey shrugged. “I was trying to show him a good time.”

“He doesn’t need a good time, Miss. French,” Gold scolded, keeping his voice low as to not startle his son. “He needs to be kept on the schedule I set up for him.”

“Schedule’s are stupid,” Lacey scoffed. “He had fun,” Lacey glanced down at her nails. “I had fun…”

“Schedules will keep him on the right path for a good future,” Gold lectured as he secured Bae on his hip. “Something you could have used.” He added under his breath.

Lacey’s eye twitched.

“You’re going to push him away, ya know,” Lacey shrugged, unsure why she was trying to defend a kid would be better off than her no matter what.

“I’m going to make sure he can survive in this world,” Gold growled. “And I would greatly appreciate it if you would not hinder that process,”

“Oh God so sorry if letting the kid play by his own devices will keep him from getting into…” Lacey shrugged. “I don’t know, Harvard?”

“Of course you would think Harvard,” Gold scoffed.

“Look here you pompous, rich, ass hat,” Lacey growled. “I might not have ten degrees and a house with eight bedrooms, but that does not make me any dumber or less significant than you!”

Bae began to get uneasy from the loud sounds. Gold made a quick trip to the living room to put Bae back in his pen before he charged at Lacey.

“I don’t think you’re dumber or insignificant,” Gold growled. “I think you’re careless, sloppy. If you applied yourself—”

“Oh my god why the hell are you giving me a dad talk,” Lacey groaned, stalking back to the living room.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gold fought. “I’m offering you advice that you should consider taking if you want to one day leave this place.”

“I’m fine where I am thank you very much!” Lacey shouted at him, ignoring the knot that formed in her stomach when Bae whimpered. She grabbed her jacket and threw it on as she made a bee-line for the door.

“How about you focus on not screwing up the kid’s life?” she yelled back as she slammed the door.

Gold flinched, counting down until his son started wailing.

“I’m sorry m’boy.” Gold sighed as he nestled him close, soothing him through his little hiccups as he calmed.

Lacey French was mischief on legs, he knew that long before any of this had occurred. He admired her from afar for a long time, her brave smiles and devil-may-care stance. Sure, she annoyed him with her carelessness and never-ending sense of youth, but he always thought there was greatness just under her skin.

As he went to prepare his son a bath, he hoped she could forgive him long enough to come back tomorrow morning.

He needed her help, even if he knew deep down she needed his more.

#rumbelle christmas in july #rumbelle christmas in july 2019 #rcij #rcij 2019 #of-princes-and-savages #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #golden lace #baelfire #lacey #lacey french #mr. gold #ryik's fics

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thevintagebluebird · 6 years

Text

Unpinned - Croque Monsieur

Thought you could get rid of me that easily!? Hello all - yes, it’s been a while. These past few months I’ve been running around New England as my favorite people in the world get married, buy houses, and have babies. Celebrating life milestones with my loved ones has been wonderful, and I’m so grateful to all of them for sharing those special moments with me. And now that all the excitement has died down, I’m settled back at home to celebrate the truly big things in my own life: rewatching Star Trek: The Next Generation, fixing the scratching post my cat destroyed, and successfully making a grilled cheese with ham.

Also I’ve been spending a lot of money on wine lately. Can’t find any correlation. Hmm.

Anyhoo, Allan and I had the distinct honor of hosting one of our favorite people Zach for dinner the other night, and this mad lad was inspired to teach us FRENCH COOKING. Seriously, if you’re not friends with this guy you’re missing out - funny, nice as heck, and a master chef. He’ll even bring you laundry detergent if you ask nicely! Zach took our lumpy, lifeless forms and turned them into PASSABLE SOUS CHEFS! Meaning we didn’t burn down the kitchen. Join us as we are taught how to make the New York Times’ Croque Monsieur!

Verdict: Is the Pintrest photo complete bullshit? - We did not have fresh-baked, hand-sliced country white bread, but other than that it’s not totally fake!

Is it crazy expensive/time consuming/confusing? - Stocking up on cheese was probably an expense, but since Zach did the shopping I have a nice buffer and can pretend it was FREE!

Does it taste good? - I’m sorry, have you ever met a dish made entirely of melted cheese that WASN’T good? ‘Cause I haven’t.

Croque-Monsieur

Makes 2 sandwiches (we doubled it for four)

Time: 20 minutes (eehhhhhhh)

INGREDIENTS

5 tablespoons butter

1 tablespoon flour

⅔ cup milk

Sea salt

Freshly grated nutmeg

4 1/3-inch-thick slices country bread (not sourdough or whole wheat)

4 thin slices French ham

2 thin slices Gruyere cheese

DIRECTIONS

Preheat a two-sided electric griddle on medium-high to high for about 20 minutes, or preheat the oven to 300 degrees and preheat a cast-iron skillet on top of the stove for about 5 minutes. Prepare a bechamel sauce: in a small saucepan over medium heat, melt 1 tablespoon butter. When bubbles have subsided, add flour and whisk vigorously for 1 minute. Slowly whisk in milk until smooth. Bring to a boil, and cook until thick. Remove from heat, and season to taste with salt and nutmeg.

Spread two slices of bread generously with sauce. Lay two slices of ham on top of each, and top each with a slice of cheese; ham and cheese should slightly overlap edges of bread. Top each with a slice of bread.

In a small saucepan, melt remaining the 4 tablespoons butter. Brush the sandwiches on both sides with butter, making sure that the edges are well covered. If you're using a griddle, place cheese side down, close the griddle and cook until the bread is toasted dark and cheese is leaking out and bubbling. If you're using a skillet, place sandwiches cheese side down and cook on stove top until well browned, then turn and brown again. Transfer skillet to oven, and bake until heated through and cheese is bubbling. Serve hot.

A motley crew, to be sure. Allan and I had just rushed to run home and jumped in and out of the shower, hence why we look like drowned rats. Zach looks lovely. I can’t really comment about the state of the New York Times cooking website because honestly, Zach brought it and I didn’t find it wandering among the shiny editorial photos of Pintrest. Plus they’re a really good resource for recipes (my favorite salad dressing is from a NYT recipe). So just trust they’re cool.

This is sorta vaguely what you’ll need. We’ve also got cooking drinks and snacks mixed in there too. And dish soap. Don’t cook with that.

Here’s Zach, casting a spell over his phone to ensure the success of our undertaking. Spoiler alert: it worked!

Mandatory cooking wine. Angry Bunch is my current favorite (aka the Hapke/Knowles house wine) and if anyone from Angry Bunch wants to send me a free bottle for the shameless plug, just send it to Somerville. Doesn’t matter where. I’ll find it.

Ok, so you get your bowl of ice water out. This made me nervous, because it was starting to seem like this was going to be really complicated like making a pie crust from scratch, but it turns out it was just for de-starching the potatoes. Oh, did I mention we were making our own french fries? ‘Cause HECK YEAH folks, we were also HAND-MAKING FRIES!

Turn yo potatoes into fries! Cold, wet fries!

Zach checking the recipe while poor Allan is (once again) put on potato peeling duty. What can I say, kid has skills. Also I realize that at this point I’ve told you nothing about making a croque monsieur. Patience, dear reader.

To make a croque monsieur you’re gonna need an amazing cheese sauce to pour over your actual slices of cheese. It’s a modified roux. And being a Rew, it was only fitting that I had roux-making duty (with the watchful eye and helpful directions of our fearless leader Zach). Here I am attempting to grate just enough cheese to make the sauce. We found out shortly later that ‘just enough’ cheese was actually all the cheese he brought.

Had to leave enough Gruyere to slice, ‘cause no one wants a grilled cheese made of only cheese sauce. You need cheese melt AND sauce. Obviously.

Teamwork makes the dream work! Zach gently adding flour while I stir WITHOUT STOPPING to make a damn fine roux. My grandma would be proud. She re-teaches me this every single year at Thanksgiving when we make gravy. Also note the banana cream pie in the top right because Zach is a super guest and not only brings all the ingredients and know-how to a dinner party but he even brings *desert*. Damn.

Allan on ham duty! We were running out of counter space, hence the sink-shot.

A PERFECT CHEESY ROUX! If you dip your spoon in and it comes out drippy but coated, you know you’ve hit that sweet spot.

Take your hand-me-down lobster pot (that you usually only use to cold-brew coffee) and actually use it to cook things! Here I discover that every attempt I’ve ever made to deep fry has resulted in hot-grease arms/hands/walls because I wasn’t using a deep enough pot. Look at me now!!

We’ve got ham, cheese, cheese sauce, and more cheese. It’s...beautiful. And ready to go in the oven!

Pomme frites!

As you can see we didn’t quite get that orange glow on top of ours like the NYT photo, but they still look DAMN fine to me.

All three of us are former restaurant employees. As such, plating is very important. Notice we even made the effort to pretend this isn’t just a cheese-stuffed 10,000 calorie cheat meal. ‘Cause it has a salad. Healthy!

Aaaaaaand the reaction? Thumbs up!!

Final final verdict: Fucking. Delicious. Make this as the ultimate comfort food dinner, and follow it up with banana cream pie. EPIC. Thank you Zach!!

#cooking #unpinned #pinterest #recipe #pintrestfail

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