#you sure are dude. that's the Time to Grovel signal

[wolfjackle-creates]

I'll Carry Your Heart with Me (Until I Find You Again): Part 2

This time we switch to Danny's POV. 2.4k words long.

There's been a bit of a time skip and their friendship has only grown with time.

First

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“Mr. Fenton!” and a smack on his desk caused Danny to jump. He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring out the window.

“Sorry, Mr. Lancer. Did you ask something?”

“Your grades may have improved over these last few months, but that does not give you leave to daydream in my class. I expect you to pay attention. Now, why don’t you explain what the repetition of ‘Brutus in an honorable man’ in Marc Antony’s soliloquy at Caesar’s funeral means.”

Jason had done such a good job reading that speech that Danny actually thought he could repeat it from memory. “Oh, it’s done sarcastically. To indicate he’s anything but.”

“Hmm. Very good. I hope you can keep up this new studious attitude of yours.”

Danny’s leg bounced as the rest of the class seemed to pass so slowly. As soon as he got home, he wanted to visit Jason again. His friend’s tutelage had helped not only his grades but also his fights. Who knew formal training could have such an affect? Well, he needed to pay him back.

It took all of Danny’s focus to not let his eyes drift out the window again, but he barely heard a word Mr. Lancer said as class dragged on.

And finally the bell rang, signaling the end of the day.

Danny shoved his binder in his backpack and rushed out the door without even waiting for Sam and Tucker.

He was moving as fast as possible without actually running in the halls to switch things out in his locker. It was there Sam and Tucker caught up to him.

“What’s got you in such a rush today?” asked Sam.

Danny flushed. “I’m meeting Jason today. Taking him to Ghost Writer’s lair. He’ll love the library and Ghost Writer said it’d be okay so long as I don’t so much as touch a single piece of paper or even breathe too hard on anything.”

“Dude, how’d you get him to agree to that? Ghost Writer hates you!”

Not wanting to admit how long he’d spent groveling, Danny shrugged. “I apologized to him and emphasized how much Jason loved books and writing.”

“Woah, the Danny Fenton apologized to someone? Is the world ending?”

“Shut up, Sam. I’m not that bad.”

“You kinda are, dude,” commented Tucker.

“Pot, meet kettle.” Sam flicked the back of both their heads.

“Now that pick-on-Danny time is over, I need to go!”

Tucker grinned and said, “We want all the details on your date soon as you get back!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Danny waved them off as he half-jogged out of the building. He pulled out his phone to text Jazz.

Danny: Did you get mom and dad out of the house? Jazz: Yep. Jazz: They’re coming to the school for a parent-teacher conference Danny: Thanks! Danny: You’re a life saver! Jazz: Have fun on your date Danny: How many times do I have to tell you! Danny: Not. A. Date.

Running was too slow. Danny ducked out of sight of the road and let the coolness of his transformation wash over him before flying home. So much faster.

And sure enough, when he reached home, the GAV was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh of relief, he phased through the walls right to the lab and through the portal. Even in the ever changing realms, Danny knew the path to Jason’s lair by heart; it’s location shone like a beacon in his awareness.

Something must have been on his side, because he was approaching the island within a few minutes of passing through the portal. From his core, he sent out a greeting. A moment later, he got a return pulse from Jason followed by the ghost himself.

“Jay!” Danny trilled a greeting.

“Hey there, human-boy. Ready to have your ass kicked?” Jason grinned and tossed an ectoblast his way.

Danny laughed and blocked it with ice. “I’ve got a different idea, actually. What would you say to me introducing you to another ghost? I got permission to take you to his lair and you’ll absolutely love it. He may be a bigger book nerd than you.”

Jason hesitated and looked over his shoulder at his lair.

But Danny had anticipated that. Jay was still a young ghost and obviously hesitant to leave his lair. He gave a loud whistle. “Don’t worry so much, a friend of mine will be able to look after your lair for you.”

Before Jason could even ask what he meant, excited barking just barely preceded Cujo jumping onto Danny’s chest and licking his face.

Laughing, Danny asked in baby-talk. “Who’s a good boy, who’s a good boy!” Cujo barked at him.

He’d never introduced Jay to Cujo before and Jay was watching them with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“Not my dog, he chose me. But he can protect your lair. Right, Cujo? You’ll protect Jason’s lair? And come get us if something happens you can’t fight off?” Cujo barked and rolled over to show off his belly and Danny rubbed it roughly.

Jay laughed. “No offense, but how good a guard dog is he? He seems too friendly.”

Danny looked up and let his grin turn a bit sharper before moving a bit away from Cujo. “Oh, he’s the best. Cujo, big!” he ordered.

Cujo’s happy yaps turned to menacing growls as he grew to his large form, drool dripping from sharpened teeth.

Jason’s mouth fell open and he stared. “Wow. How common is it for ghosts to be able to change shape like that?”

“No idea. Queen Dora can transform into a dragon. And Bernard can take any shape he wants. Spectra goes from a black shadow to a human-looking middle aged woman. Each is a bit different.”

“Every time I think I get used to this place… Are you sure my lair will be safe with him?”

Cujo transformed back into a puppy and ran to Jason barking, circling him once before licking his face, too.

“Here, I’ll prove it. Cujo! What do you do if someone comes close?”

Cujo’s barking got deep again as he grew in size.

“Good boy! And what do you do if someone attacks who you can’t fight off?”

Cujo shrunk down and ran to Jason and nipped at his clothing, trying to drag him towards the island.

Jason grinned. “You are a good boy, aren’t you? Keep it safe for me? We won’t be gone too long.” Though after saying that, he did look up at Danny as if to confirm.

“You’ll wish we were staying longer when you see the place. Jazz knows where I am and can distract my parents for tonight. But I do have to get back and sleep and show my face at some point.”

“Got it.” Jason turned his back to Danny to look over his lair. “Then I think I’m good to go. Should I bring anything?”

“Nah, you’re fine just as you are. Now, come on! We don’t want to waste any time!”

Jason turned back to face him and as he did, his outfit transformed once more into his Robin uniform. His flaming hair matched the uniform perfectly. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Danny smirked. “Let’s see how well you can keep up.” Without waiting an instant more, he flew off. Not at his top speed, but still quite fast. He laughed as Jason cursed him and did his best to keep up.

The Zone must have been in a good mood today because it didn’t take them long to get to Ghost Writer’s lair. Danny paused before crossing the border and flared his aura to announce his and Jason’s approach. Jason copied the gesture a moment later.

Around them, the very air seemed to grow heavy. It felt like someone was looking right through them and examining their very souls. Next to him, Danny could sense Jason tense as he crouched into a defensive stance.

“Calm down, Jay. He’s just checking us out before letting us into his lair.” By the time he’d finished speaking, the heaviness lifted and a sense of Welcome washed over them. The door to the library swung open.

Without waiting for Jay to ask what was going on, Danny grabbed his hand and pulled him into the building where Ghost Writer was waiting just past the doorway.

“So you must be the young Jason that Danny”—his lip curled just a bit as he said Danny’s name and Danny tried not to flinch—“told me so much about. Welcome. I am Ghost Writer.”

Danny looked over to Jason to see what he thought. Jason was staring past Ghost Writer with his mouth wide open. His clothing had transformed back into his civvies and his hair was a burning white inferno on top of his head. Something must have penetrated his brain because he gave himself a little shake. His eyes met Danny’s briefly and Danny had to stifle a laugh at how wide and shocked they look.

But then he fixed his attention on Ghost Writer. “This is your lair? It is amazing! I’ve never seen anything like it. How’d you get so many books?”

Danny’s once-enemy smiled at the boy. The expression looked out of place on his face. “Every book ever written ends up in my domain.”

Somehow, Jason’s mouth managed to fall open even further. “Every book? How is that possible?”

“Yes, every book. I’ll give you a tour and explain. But first, the rules for all who enter my domain. You will treat every book with care—”

“Of course!” interrupted Jason who had gone back to staring at the high ceilings and walls covered in bookshelves.

“—the instant you damage a book is the last time you will be allowed to visit,” continued Ghost Writer as if he’d never been interrupted. “You may not remove any books from my domain. Danny is not allowed to touch a book. Nor to look at any too closely nor to breathe too hard near them.”

That finally caught Jason’s attention. “What? Why not?”

“He damaged a book.”

Danny looked down and rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet Jason’s eyes. He wasn’t proud of his actions that day.

“What? Danny!” scolded Jason.

“Indeed. The only reason he is allowed back here is because he apologized profusely and begged for the chance to take you here. He indicated you have given him a new appreciation for literature which I wish to encourage to keep the rest of my collection safe. Now, follow me and I will show you how to find what you’re looking for.”

Danny tried to pay attention as Ghost Writer showed them around. He really did. But the tour took so long and they traveled through room after room after room. And these were only the books written in English!

Jason didn’t get bored, though. He continued to stare at the walls in wonder, every so often catching Danny’s eyes. Danny liked watching him. Far more interesting than learning which time period or geographical location the current shelves contained.

Finally, after what felt like ages to Danny, the returned to the first room.

“The two of you may stay for three hours. Depending on your behavior, future visits may be longer, shorter, or prohibited.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’ll definitely make the most of it. Your domain is beyond amazing.” Without wasting any more time on pleasantries, Jason grabbed Danny’s hand and pulled him out of the first room through a doorway.

Once they were out of sight, Jason stopped and stared at Danny. He opened and closed his mouth before swallowing as if unsure what to say. They were still holding hands.

Danny laughed self-consciously. “So, do you like it?”

Jason continued to stare at him. “I…” he started. He shook his head, but his eyes were still wide in wonder. Jason bit his lip and then lunged forward. The hand that wasn’t holding his cradled the back of his head as Jason pressed their mouths together hard.

His lips were hot, far hotter than a human’s, but before Danny could react even enough to close his eyes, Jason was pulling away. Danny tightened his grip on his hand to keep him from retreating entirely.

In fact, he took a step closer until scant inches separated them. Moving much more slowly than Jason had, he leaned forward and brushed their lips together softly. Jason twitched, but didn’t pull away, so Danny did it again. Only this time, he didn’t pull away.

Jason’s hand once more found their way to the back of his head. Danny closed his eyes as his lips parted slightly. Jay’s tongue probed, and Danny met it with his own. Deep in his chest, his core pulsed out a message affection, happiness.

Jason replied in kind. Thank you, amazing, disbelief, affection. Kissing a ghost was nothing like kissing a human. The waves of emotion made the connection so much deeper in one way. And even physically, Jason’s mouth was so much warmer than a human’s due to his fire core.

And they didn’t need to stop to breathe. That was fantastic.

However, there time here was limited, so with a pulse of disappointment, Danny pulled away. “We are definitely going to be doing that some more,” Danny said, though he sent out a non-verbal question of you want?, “But you’ve less than three hours here. Make the most of it.”

Jason’s responding pulse of yes, more made Danny grin. Verbally, he added, “Danny… This is… I… Thank you.”

“Of course.” Danny laughed as if it had been easy to set up. “Now go have fun, book nerd.”

Jason tweaked his nose, leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips, and rushed to the nearest bookshelf to see what he could find.

Danny crossed his legs and floated in a sitting position as he watched Jason take down two books and open them both as he examined what was written. “Danny! He has earlier drafts of Bleak House! This is so crazy. I wonder how much Dickens changed from his initial draft to the final printing?”

“Well, looks like now you can find out.”

“I can find out. Holy shit.” Jason sent out another wave of Thank you, affection.

The sentiment warmed Danny up just as much as their physical touch.

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Next

Tag list:

@echoednonny, @britcision

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jason todd #ghost writer (dp) #dead on main #first kiss! #can you tell i wrote the beginning part to this segment around the ides of march? #these boys like each other a lot #and the fluff is so much fun to write #if i end it here we can pretend things will always be just great for them

[ariesbilly]

Tell me more abt the au where fredsythe are college friends with benefits but fred is pining 🤧

Ok so I don’t see them starting off as friends. It’s more like they keep seeing each other around the dorms and Fred can’t get a good enough read on whether or not FPs into dudes so he never makes a move. And fp of course isn’t gonna do anything publicly either so they just keep passing each other by. Until maybe one night there’s a party and FPs drunk enough to lead Fred off to a room and fuck his brains out 😂 (I imagine Fred being more visibly queer in this au like he’s definitely got rainbow patches and shit on his jackets and is on campus handing out fliers to rallies etc etc so FPs known basically from the get go freds gay or at the very least won’t kick his ass if he misread some signals)

So anyway they hook up at a party but as soon as it’s over FPs pulling his jeans back up and leaving before Fred even knows what’s hit him and by the time Fred gets his shit together FPs long gone like not even at the party anymore and that’s that

And maybe a few days or a week go by where they’re still running into each other around campus but fp doesn’t even any hint that he remembers anything happening between the two of them which kinda bums Fred out. Like Fred wasn’t expecting some fairytale romance out of this but the least fp could do is say hi when they pass each other in the hall…

Then another party comes and FPs seeking him out again and Fred’s drunk and horny enough to go along and not ask any questions. Rinse and repeat of the first night. And things kinda keep on going like that until fp starts showing up to Fred’s room relatively sober (maybe a little stoned) and they start hooking up there. And fp still never sticks around after and he has this rule about not kissing and Fred’s putting up with a lot but the sex is incredible and he’s got a weakness for bad boys with dark eyes and curly hair what else is he supposed to do…

But maybe one night Fred gets a little bold while FPs gearing to leave and asks him what his deal is, why he’s always in a rush. And fp gives him speech about not getting attached and keeping things strictly physical blah blah and he’s like “if that’s gonna be a problem for you then I’ll stop coming over” and Fred’s like nooo don’t do that you’re so sexyyyy lmfao

BUT if fp starts catching feelings a little bit and surprises Fred one day in the dining hall by sitting down with him for lunch like this is something they do all the time and Fred’s gotta bite his lip to keep from exploding from happiness… that’s their business

So fp starts letting himself actually hang out with Fred in small doses and maybe they even have nights hanging out in each other’s rooms that ARENT strictly about sex (they’ll start off by watching a movie or some big game that’s on but by the end of it they’re always in some stage of undress they cannot help this)

And fp never really talks about himself. It’s like pulling teeth to get him to talk about anything real or his interests and Fred’s just gotta pay extra attention to pick things up for himself.

And Fred doesn’t know it but fp stops hooking up with other people eventually because despite himself he’s gotten attached to Fred and has a one track mind for the guy now and it’s really fucking his shit up because he’s not even supposed to be gay. Like sure he let himself indulge in sex but things were never supposed to progress past that with any of the guys he’s been with and somehow there goes Fred worming his way in

Meanwhile Fred’s like head over heels already, wants a June wedding, doodling hearts in class the whole nine yards but he knows FPs not about that so he’s gotta keep it all locked up tight when they’re together 🥺

But he will break down FPs walls and they will be boyfriends dammit! It’s just gonna take like a lot of effort and patience on Fred’s end and definitely one big fight and fp coming back groveling

#briana answers things

[stayextrafrosty]

Of Saints and Sin

Fall Out Boy mob boss AU

**FORMERLY TITLED MASKING OUR BRUISES**

Summary: It shouldn’t have worked. But it did. Pete, Andy and Joe. Together they were deadly. They controlled the Chicago underground. Patrick is the new boss. Taking over the gang war that killed his brother, the former leader. The mob is his new family. Trust, secrets and brotherhood complicate things. How can they cope with their sins?

Warnings: a lot of cursing, violence, sexual situations and general angst

Read on AO3 here

Chapter 1

-

“Please, I’m begging you. I’ll do whatever you want, but you can’t kill him! He’s all I have!” The woman groveled at his feet, begging for the life of her worthless son. The two men held him fast, his face bloody. Dominic looked bored, fiddling around with his knife, hardly paying attention to the woman.

“Well maybe you should have thought of that before encouraging him to steal from us. Ya know, we’re a pretty generous group considering the state of this fucked up city.” He stood, hands resting in the pockets of his eight-hundred-dollar dress pants.

A knock came from the door and he frowned slightly. His guys knew better than to bother him during these interrogations. He signaled to his right hand-man who stood with a gun pointed at the crooks’ head.

He made his way to the door, paused a beat, before yanking it open and pointing the gun at the intruder. The new kid stood there, horrified. The boss was surprised he didn’t piss his pants. Of course, his little brother had never been that weak. He glared at the seventeen-year-old.

“What the fuck are you doing here? This better be fucking important.” He watched as Patrick gulped. He couldn’t show his soft side with these two little shits in the room. Otherwise he would never talk to Patrick like this. It burned his throat. Reminded him too much of the way their father treated them.

“Sorry boss, but the intelligence learned something.” Patrick stood stiff as a statue. There was a moment of silence.

“Well spit it out, Trick,” He snapped. He tried not to stumble over his words. Patrick was not cut out for this business. Dominic would make sure he never had to take over. Hell, he shouldn’t even be here now.

“The woman. She’s the wife of the Snakes leader.” A beat passed as the information settled on the room. Dom knew there was something off about this whole thing. He rolled his shoulders and turned back to the woman.

“So, what was the plan, eh? Where’s the camera? Gunna try and show my guys I’m weak? That I spared a crook cause his mommy pleaded for his life. Our rules are clear.” He called his right-hand man over once again. “Get rid of them both.” The woman began screaming.

“You’ll regret this! They will come after you! You will suffer! I’ll make sure of it!” One of the men holding her son pushed a gun to his head. The bang was quick, Dom hardly registered that it happened. That happens in this business. You get desensitized.

Patrick

He panicked. He might have been desensitized but Patrick wasn’t. He spun back to face his little brother. His face was blank, mouth open slightly. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes.

“Get out of here, Trick. Right now.” He stood frozen, Staring at the scene in front of him. “Trick!” He jumped and began to back away slowly.

A thud came from behind the boss. The woman had fought her way to her son, and in doing so, stole the gun from his one of his men. Tears poured down her face as she aimed it.

“You will die.” She pulled the trigger just as his right-hand man did. She fell to the ground in a pool of blood.

The warmth spread through his body. He looked back at his brother, horror covering his face, tears flowing freely. He fell to his knees, pressing a hand to his stomach. He wouldn’t last long. Patrick was at his side, holding him up.

“You’re gunna be fine. Absolutely fine. Come on, don’t leave yet.” Patrick pressed a hand against his own. He attempted a smile.

“It’s alright, Trick. You’ll be alright. Just stay away from this business you got it? The boys will help you for a bit. But don’t you dare get more involved.”

His eyes began to drift shut. He could vaguely hear Patrick calling to him. He did everything he could. But such is the life in the mob.

-

Six Years Later

“What the fuck, Pete? I told you exactly what to get!”

“It’s not my fault you’re so god damn picky with your coffee!”

“You had a list! A list!”

Patrick groaned at their bickering. Why did he have to deal with this? There was actual important stuff that needed to get done.

“Would both of you shut up? Joe stop being an ungrateful shit and Pete pay attention for fucking once,” he scolded. They both straightened right away. Patrick placed his hat on the desk before running a hand through his hair.

He had only taken over recently. The rest of the members weren’t quite sure what to make of him. He only had to live up to his brother’s legacy. He involuntarily flinched as the memories raced across his mind. The gang had been left in charge of his brother’s right-hand man, Smyth.

His brother had been right though. They took care of him. Provided him with the funds he needed while finishing school. A major in business only made sense. But when he wasn’t in class, it was Smyth that taught him how this all worked.

Patrick made a promise to his brother at the burial. He would end this. He would end this war unless it ended him first.

He knew that his brother told him not to get involved. But what else did he have? His mom was killed in a gang related incident when he was young. His father was a fucking horror story. His brother was the last thing. And the gangs took him too.

“Yo, boss. Hey. Trick!” He looked up at Andy. Shit, he’d been day dreaming.

“What is it?” Andy held out the phone to him. A man of many words as always.

“Talk,” he snapped into the phone.

“Chill little guy. You don’t need to sound so scary.” Patrick cracked a grin. Smyth. He knew Patrick hated it when he called him that.

“Shut up. What is it?” There was a chuckled from the other end.

“I’m doing fine, thanks for asking. Honestly, I thought your brother taught you manners. Especially to those much older than you.” Patrick’s smile faltered slightly.

“Stop acting like you’re some sixty-year-old geezer. You’re thirty-eight.”

“Yea, yea. Anyway. There’s rumors on the street that are calling attention to you. Young boss means you’ve got a lot of reputation building to do. You should meet with your guys and lay down some rules. We’ve been following your brothers’ rules but you’re the boss now. As much as both I and your brother are against it.”

Patrick glanced over at his inner circle. You can’t see it, but under the nice jackets, each held a gun. They all knew how to wild a knife and all knew how to shake someone down. Patrick opened his desk drawer to see the small revolver he had there. He knew how to fire it. Could hit a target without even blinking.

“Got it. Call a meeting.”

“You got it, Boss.” A few seconds of silence. “I got your back, kid,” Smyth said, almost gently.

Before Patrick could let his emotions get to him, he hung up the phone. The three guys in the room looked at him expectantly. They trusted him and he trusted them.

He had known Pete the longest. Both of their families were part of the high ranks of The Overcast. Pete’s family in it much longer than Patrick’s but they were respectful and trusting when his brother took over. They were friends and Pete was the one who helped him through his brother’s death the most.

Joe was friends with Pete but his family moved back to Chicago recently. Patrick’s first interaction with Joe involved Patrick telling him how much he sucked at shooting. That ended up with a gun pointed at Patrick’s head but then knocking it away. He later discovered that the safety was on. It was a test to see how he responded. Joe never doubted him after that. He also didn’t hesitate to call Patrick out when he thought he was being a dumbass.

Andy was the strong and silent type. He didn’t say much but was brought back by Joe. There was some uneasiness at first but he had done his job well many times. He helped keep Pete and Joe from arguing and honestly that was enough for Patrick. They might have been friends but god did they argue.

“What’s the story?” Patrick looked between the only people he could really call his friends.

“New rules. I’ve been doing this with the help of my brother and Smyth so far. Now it’s time for me to put my foot down. You have been the ones to stand by me so far. It would mean a lot if that continued.”

A moment of silence before Andy raised his hand with the back facing away from him. A smiled threatened to come out as the other two guys raised their hands too. It was their symbol. Patrick joined the other three and they all pressed the backs of their hands together. A chuckle resonated through the group as they all hugged. No one but them would see or know about this.

-

Quiet voices filled the small auditorium. It wouldn’t fit more than fifty people. The leaders of the different sections milled about. Some snickering, never having seen their new boss. Patrick expected that kind of reaction. You have to build a name for yourself in this business. He had to be prepared to do that.

“Heard the kid can hardly hold a gun. Some shit about seeing his brother get shot messing him up.”

“Dude. He was young. That would fuck any kid up.”

“I been seeing that shit since I was ten. Maybe he just needs to get a backbone.”

“Keep talkin. Don’t be pissed at me when he puts a knife to your throat for questioning him.”

Patrick ignored the banter. Maybe he should do that. But it was his brothers’ policy to never raise a weapon against your own. Patrick stood by that sentiment at least.

He stepped up onto the small stage. People immediately went quiet. He took note of the questioning glances he was receiving. Some weren’t sure if he was the right-hand-man or the boss. He took a breath, hoping no one could tell how nervous he was.

“My brother didn’t have a chance to tell me what his policies were before he was murdered before my eyes. I only have second hand knowledge from Smyth, his right-hand-man who has been running this thing for the past six years.

“Now, I see the looks on your faces and I know that some of you are skeptical. But I hope you can extend the same trust to me as you did my brother. I know what my brothers’ legacy is and I know what his rules were. But I’m taking the lead now.” He paused a moment to try and read everyone’s faces. They were all listening intently so far.

“First of all. Stay the fuck away from minors. They don’t need this shit.” A small murmur of approval. “Second. Don’t any of you touch the meth or any sort of equivalent. I will not tolerate that kind of poison. I’m working us out of that business so don’t go setting us back.” Less approval this time.

“So where do you suggest we make up that lost revenue?” Patrick recognized the voice from before. The ass hat that had no consideration for a child watching his family die. He was going to be a problem. Patrick crossed his arms and stared the guy down.

“Why don’t you try doing something beneficial for the community that you seem so intent on running into the ground. My brother wanted to fix the community. Not destroy it. The point was to get rid of the other gangs so Chicago is safer. If you don’t believe in that idea then I will personally escort you out.” The room was deadly quiet. The guy didn’t say anything at first. Then he scoffed.

“You haven’t the slightest idea what your brother wanted, kid. And you will never be him.” Patrick didn’t even blink. The comment hurt but now was not the time to grieve.

He hopped down from the stage. The crowd of people parted for him. No one in the room dared to breathe. He stopped in front of the intimidating man. Patrick wasn’t very tall which made being a leader harder than it needed to be. The guys eyes flickered off of him for a second. Patrick assumed Joe, Andy and Pete had made themselves known.

“Rule three!” Patrick called loudly so everyone could hear. “Do not raise a weapon against one of your own. That rule still stands.” The silence was deafening. Patrick refused to break eye contact. Eventually, the jack ass standing in front of him broke. He turned away and crossed his arms. Patrick had won this one.

“Your name,” Patrick said. The guy raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Well don’t just stand there and stare at me. What’s your name?”

“Bult,” he spit out.

“Full name.” He glared at Patrick.

“Vinn Bult. The fuck you trying to prove?” Patrick sighed.

“Well if you’re gunna make problems for me and everyone else then I want this to be personal.” He ignored the look of anger that passed over Vinn’s face. Patrick made his way back to the stage. The people moved out of his way much quicker.

“Rule four! Any new alliances are to go through me first. I am in the middle of reviewing all alliances made in the past six years. I will cut off any that I think are harmful to the group. Five, don’t fuck with law enforcement. We have a relatively peaceful agreement with them. But I know which districts have been causing problems.” Patrick took a breath. “Dismissed for now. Anything else I deem to be a problem will be handled by either me or my guys and you will be informed promptly.”

Everyone stood still for a moment before filtering out almost silently. Patrick stood and watched them leave. He caught sight of Vinn again. He was glaring at Patrick and mumbling something to another guy who didn’t seem interested. Patrick wondered if this was the guy Dom and Smyth were always complaining about back then. Pete came to stand next to him.

“When you get the chance, get me any information you can find on our friend Vinn Bult,” Patrick said as the last of the people filed out. Joe came up on his other side.

“You want us to keep an eye on him, too,” Joe asked.

“Maybe pay him a little visit,” Andy added. Patrick shook his head and turned to them.

“Keep your distance for now. I don’t need to release the trio from hell on him just yet. I just think we should be cautious is all.”

-

Smyth watched the four young men from the door. They were all so innocent. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Least of all Patrick. He was the youngest of all of them. Smyth had tried to steer him away from the Mobs of Chicago and this stupid war.

At least they had noticed Bult. He had always been sketchy, even when Dom was running things. Patrick was nothing like his brother. He doubted Patrick could really do anything to end the decades long feud.

Smyth made his way over to the small group. He knew he had to back up Patrick. Protect him. That was the one thing Dom had told him to do if he ever kicked the bucket. Protect him from everything he didn’t need to know in order to be the boss.

“Hey, kid. Why don’t I take you out do some of your new businesses?” Smyth slapped Patrick on the back.

“I’ll get to that eventually. I still have to go through some paperwork,” He said, shrugging.

“Come on, boss! You seriously need to unwind or something,” Pete encouraged. Smyth chuckled at the banter. And for once he agreed with Pete.

The guys bickered back and forth, all of them trying to convince Patrick to, “have some goddam fun” in Joe’s words. They were still teenagers in some sense. At least that’s what they looked like right now. Smyth rolled his eyes and injected himself into the conversation by grabbing Patrick’s arm.

“Let’s go. I agree with the young people in the vicinity. Chill for a bit why don’t you?” Patrick grumbled as he yanked his arm away and followed Smyth. The other guys in a tow behind him.

-

Patrick looked around the ally. Trash littered the edges of the buildings. A homeless person sat huddled in the corner. He couldn’t quite tell if it was a guy or girl because of all the jackets they had. He sent Andy across the street to buy a couple burgers from McDonalds for the person.

“You can’t help everyone, Patrick,” Smyth muttered to him. His brother had pointed that out to him several times.

“Maybe not, but I can try.” Smyth shook his head as he pounded his fist against the metal door.

“I will never understand why you decided you wanted to get into this business. You’re good to a fault, Trick.” Patrick raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t have time to respond before the door opened.

“What do you want?” A huge muscled guy blocked the door. He was easily six-four and covered in tattoos. Patrick was used to the tattoos because of the other three guys being covered in them. Perhaps it was just the height thing.

“Depends, do you wanna meet your boss tonight?” The guy scoffed.

“Please, I heard he was a puny, overconfident shit.” Patrick watched the muscles in Smyth’s back tense. Perhaps Patrick didn’t make as good of an impression as he thought. He pulled Smyth back and stepped up to the giant.

“Depends who you hear it from I guess.” The guy looked down at Patrick and tried to contain his laughter. So, this was how it was going to be.

“Get out of here, kid. Runts like you don’t belong here. Careful Smyth, I tell the actual boss you’re trying to get kids into a strip club.” The guy shoved Patrick back, hard enough that he stumbled. Patrick sighed.

There were instantly three guns all trained on the giant man. He froze, but only for a moment. He was trained to deal with these situations after all. Patrick smoothed his jacket and pulled his wallet out.

“I’m not offended that you think I’m underage. You’re not the first. But I would appreciate it if you didn’t insult my guys by thinking they would try to undermine my rules.” Patrick flashed his ID at the guy and made a show of putting his wallet back. In the pocket next to his gun. The guys eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Then he refused to look at him.

“Alright boys, stop freaking the nice man out.” Pete, Joe, and Andy took the guns off him. He stepped to the side, letting them all pass without another word. Patrick was the last to enter and he stopped in front of the bouncer. Patrick didn’t even open his mouth before the guy tried to rush out an apology.

“I’m sorry, boss. Won’t happen again. I should have known better.” Patrick paused a moment, then pat the bouncer on the arm.

“Mind telling me who passed that information along?” Patrick rested his hands in his pockets, patiently waiting while he thought.

“I didn’t know him. Seen him hanging around with your guy Vinn. Course he wasn’t here with him.” Made enough sense. Patrick nodded and handed the bouncer a fifty.

“You’re doing your job well. Keep it up. Let your manager know I’m here.” He nodded quickly and radioed for someone just called “V.”

Patrick followed his friends to a booth. Not in front of any of the stages but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t looking. Some whistling came from a stage off to the side. Dollars fluttered about a girl. She would have been less provocative naked.

She was bathed in a red light. She danced about the pole in the center, dropping low and biting her lip at the crowd of older men. Patrick was mildly disgusted but this was her job. And she wouldn’t have it if it weren’t for the old rich guys who were for some reason unsatisfied with their wife. Her skirt could hardly be called that, pleated and not even covering h.er ass. She turned away and he saw a tattoo snaking its way down her spine, dipping into the cloth around her hips. Anything else she wore was lace.

Patrick shook himself out of the daze and hurried over to the table. Pete grinned at him. Patrick glared, trying to stop the comment before it even left his mouth. No such luck.

“Aren’t you glad we made you come out?”

“Shut up, Pete.”

They ordered their drinks and sat chatting. The thumping bass seemed to keep time with his pulse. Patrick had a hard time keeping his attention away from the stage where he saw that dancer. He had never been to a strip club before. He shook his head at himself. Was he a fucking sixteen-year-old or something?

“I’m just saying you should practice more. You can’t throw a punch for shit. Why do you think Andy does that?” Joe glared at Pete.

“And you should learn to shoot straight! Oh wait…” Pete had come out to them as bisexual a while back. None of them cared but that made for jokes that weren’t always appreciated.

“Hey, watch it,” Patrick scolded, but he was chuckling slightly. It could have been worse.

Smyth nudged Patrick. He looked over to where Smyth was looking. His breath almost caught in his throat. The girl from earlier was making her way over to the table. She had changed though. Jeans and a tank top. She stopped at the head of the table.

“So, which of you wanted to see me?” Patrick could have fallen over. This was V? He just never thought of a woman owning a strip club. He supposed that was why the bouncer did his job so well. He knew women who took no shit. This one was definitely one of them. Patrick stood, trying to not stare. He offered his hand. She looked down at it and then raised an eyebrow.

“You’re V, right?” She nodded hesitantly.

“Yea, what do you need?”

“My name is Patrick Stump.” There was a beat as recognition passed over her face. The look of indifference replaced it soon enough.

“Ok? What do you need?” Patrick blinked and he heard snickering behind him. He sighed but he intended for it to be silent. She caught it anyway. “Sorry, am I supposed to call you ‘boss’ or something? I don’t really roll like that.” Patrick tried to keep the smile off his face.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just passing through. Familiarizing myself with our various… Businesses.” She nodded in understanding. She glanced behind him.

“So, which one is the ‘right hand?’ Or am I not allowed to know for security reasons?” Patrick shrugged.

“They all kind of are.” I wouldn’t be able to do this without them. He added mentally.

“Well they can’t all come along if you want a tour or something. Gotta keep my promise to the girls. No guys allowed in the back.” She rested her hands on her hips.

“I get it. Wasn’t here for a tour but if—”

“—If you’re offering, he would love a tour.” Patrick thanked whatever god there was that the lights were dimmed enough so she couldn’t see the blush. Pete was trying to keep his laugh under control. Patrick cursed him. He looked down at Smyth and he shrugged.

“Welp, follow me then. I can send one of our girls over here if you’d like?” Patrick’s three friends agreed excitedly. He tried to stop from rolling his eyes. Of course, he couldn’t judge them.

“You better behave, and tip her well, got it,” Patrick lectured. There was a chorus of “yeah” and “got it.” Patrick hurried after V.

“Hey Nat, if you’re feeling up to it, head over to table thirteen,” she said into a headpiece. They made their way to the bar. She pushed open the door to the kitchen and greeted the cooks. “Hey guys! Boss man is here!” They all looked up at Patrick, they waved or said some other greeting but didn’t pay much attention otherwise.

There was another door leading to a small office area. She bounced up to sit on her desk as Patrick looked around the small space. A laptop and a stack of papers sat on the desk. Not much different from his office back at headquarters.

“Ya, know I should kick you out for bringing guns in here. I’m sure you saw the sign. Also, try to not threaten my bouncer in the future. I don’t take kindly to that.” She leaned back on her hands, relaxed.

“Sorry, bout that. Won’t happen again.” A moment of silence. “I’m happy to see someone running a legit establishment. Can you pay your cooks well?” She scoffed at him.

“Of course, I can. What kind of owner do you take me for? This is a sex industry Mr. Stump. Just because you got in for free doesn’t mean those old guys gawking at our girls do.” He raised his hands in surrender.

“I have a question though,” Patrick said. Maybe she knew Vinn and his buddies. She encouraged him to go on.

“Do you know anyone by the name of Vinn Bult? Or anyone who associates with him?” She gripped the edge of the desk.

“We have a policy to not reveal the names of paying customers,” she said. That wasn’t a no. Patrick ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, he’s spreading rumors. And I’d like to keep those to a minimum if I can. Don’t need an uprising that would require force and bloodshed to squash.” She clenched her jaw.

“I get it. I’ll see what I can do.” The silence following was awkward. Something wasn’t right. But she clearly wasn’t going to give him any information now.

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, why do you dance? I saw you when I walked in.” She released a breath, relieved the previous conversation was over. The spark returned to her eyes.

“Why? Does that make me a bad business owner? Just because I strip for men I don’t know? Because they throw money at me?” She jumped off the desk and stood in front of him, her heals making her slightly taller, of course that wasn’t hard. She was daring him to challenge her. Patrick smiled and shook his head.

“That wasn’t what I was suggesting at all. Simply curious.”

“Besides, you were watching, right? I must be good at my job.” Patrick cleared his throat and broke eye contact with her. Shit.

She stepped away from him and moved to a cabinet in the corner. She pulled out a glass and poured herself a glass of whiskey. Patrick didn’t recognize the brand. He had never seen it in stores of any kind. She glanced at him over the glass.

“Oh, sorry, did you want some?” Patrick shook his head.

“I can assume all the girls you hire are over eighteen, right? And here of their own free will?” V shot another glare at him.

“Again, what kind of company do you think I’m running? Yes. All at least twenty-one actually. Considering we sell alcohol. All here of their own volition.”

“Just things I need to ask. I’m trying to clean up the city, not make it worse.”

“So, I’ve heard. I admire that. Good luck with that—” She was cut off by dishes shattering. Patrick turned and rushed out to the main room. There were patrons huddled in against the wall. Patrick noticed the masked person holding a gun to a dancer’s head. Tears streamed down her face.

Patrick immediately looked for his group. They had their guns trained on the intruder, but the dancer was in the way.

“No one move, or she dies! I got a message for the little boss.” Patrick glared at the guy but he didn’t move. “Say something you coward! Let me know you’re here.” Patrick still didn’t move in the hopes he would just leave. The masked man sighed and shifted his gun, pointing it at a bartender. Patrick jumped but couldn’t reach her fast enough. She fell to the floor, shoulder bleeding. The guy was either a terrible shot, or he was baiting. He propped the girl up and V rushed over to help stop the bleeding.

“They don’t know what you look like yet. Don’t say a word,” She mumbled to him.

“More people are going to be hurt if I don’t speak up.”

“We don’t need to go through another loss like we did with, Dom,” she scolded.

“Let’s go, pipsqueak. Heard you were noble and shit. Don’t want anyone else to get hurt now.” Patrick grit his teeth. V shook her head.

“What do you want?” Patrick’s eyes widened at Smyth’s voice. He went to stand but V yanked him back down.

“You? I was promised a funny sight when I saw the new leader,” the masked man sneered.

“Shame you think I’m not good enough for you.”

“I’m amazed you were stupid enough to speak up” A gun fired and Patrick flinched. He shook V off and jumped up in time to see Smyth fall to the floor, clutching his leg. Andy rushed to break his fall.

“Now that I have your attention. You better give up this nice little establishment over to the Snakes and everything south of it. That won’t be too hard now will it?” The masked man shoved the girl away from him and ran out. A beat passed before all hell broke loose. The girls that had been dancing rushed over to help their coworker.

“Smyth!” Patrick had to restrain himself from jumping over the bar. Not again. Not again. Not again. The lone thought raced through his head. He fell to his knees next to Smyth. The bullet looked like it was lodged in his leg. They needed a doctor.

“Chill, kid. No use getting teary over me.” He tried to joke but the humor was lost with his grimace. Patrick wasn’t even aware his eyes had formed tears. Nothing fell but he wiped at his eyes furiously.

“You idiot! Why’d you do that?”

“Promised your brother I’d keep you safe.” Patrick looked around the room, V was busy escorting people out, offering free entry the next time they came.

“I’m supposed to be protecting you guys! I’m the boss and this war is my responsibility damnit,” Patrick scolded. Smyth’s face scrunched in pain. He would worry about the lecturing later. He called over to V as she shooed the last patron out.

“Call an ambulance!” She shook her head and hurried over to them instead.

“Not enough time. Losing blood too fast,” Joe informed him. Patrick grit his teeth.

“One of you ditch your shirt. We need to cut off circulation.” A moment passed before Andy had taken his jacket off and handed it to V. She wrapped it around his leg as Patrick applied pressure to the wound. V pointed at Pete.

“Now call the ambulance. And someone get something so we can elevate his leg. I’m going to see if I can get the bullet out myself.” Joe and Andy shared a look. “I went to nursing school now hurry up and move!” Joe jumped up and grabbed a few pillows.

Smyth groaned in pain as they maneuvered him so he was laying down. V pulled out a utility knife and cut a hole in his pants. She tried her best to be gentle around the wound but she could hardly touch it without him flinching or hissing in pain.

“For fucks sake, someone knock him out,” she complained. She moved around the hole again. Patrick watched as Smyth bit his lip to stay quiet. V watched his face occasionally as she looked around the hole. “Alright. I should be able to get it out. It’s not that deep.” She switched her utility knife from scissors to tweezers. “Someone go get the hundred-proof vodka.” Pete rushed to grab it. “This might hurt. I’m sorry.”

She poured a bit on the tweezers and then over the wound. Smyth squeezed Patrick’s hand to keep from crying out. She dug around, but not for long, she pulled the small bullet out and dropped it on the floor. Smyth was sweating and his eyes were squeezed shut.

The paramedics came rushing in, a stretcher prepared. They lifted Smyth carefully. They acknowledged the work V had done to prevent him from bleeding too much. Patrick watched as they wheeled him out. Blood covered his hands and when he looked down at them, he felt sick.

It almost happened again. Because he was too much of a coward to stand up and face the Snakes pawn by himself. V was handing him a towel. He took it hesitantly. The group stood around him, as if waiting for some sort of direction.

“Not your fault, you know,” V said quietly. The guys nodded in agreement but Patrick couldn’t think like that.

“But it is. I told myself that I wouldn’t let anyone else that I care about die. At least, not from this stupid war. I’m going to end it. And I’m going to start with this deal those fucking Snakes think they can hold over me.”

#mob boss au #fall out boy fanfiction #fall out boy #patrick stump #pete wentz #andy hurley #joe trohman #original characters #fanfiction #fandom #bandom #multi-chapter #feedback always appreciated #fall out boy au

[tiny-cloud-dragon]

Random Bits: FF7 02

Chapter 4

[Setting - Zack and Cloud are introducing Inspector Baerbotamm to all the unique aspects of their new training facility, much to the Inspector's dismay]

[Location - Training field - After a brief and exciting tour of the Plain of Pain, and a mildly worrying introduction to The Course, it's off to a less stressful tour of the Main Building, or so Percival thinks.]

Zack manhandled Inspector Baerbotamm toward the army's main building. A multi-storied structure of steel and glass squatting on a blanket of grass like a diamond on velvet.

"This is the Main Building," Zack said, effortlessly pronouncing the capitals as he walked the nervous Percy up the concrete path. "It's name is 'Main Building'"

Percival followed the line of Zack's finger as it pointed his attention to the area above the entrance. Large steel letters confirmed that yes, this building was named 'Main Building'.

"We thought we'd keep things simple, to avoid any unnecessary confusion." Zack said cheerfully. He could see that this oddly pleased Percival. Points for being clear and concise had just been awarded. There was nothing more annoying to Percival Pinwinkle Baerbottam than the printed word being vague, unclear, contradictory, or worse, open to interpretation.

"Well, it certainly is very correct!" Percival responded, a note of satisfaction creeping into his voice.

"Well, we kind of had to make sure everything was very simply and clearly labeled." 

"Especially for the Cadets," Cloud interjected. "Since some of them come in needing 'front' and 'back' written on their underwear."

"Oh, my..." Percival said, sounding dismayed.

"Yeah," Zack agreed," We decided it would be a good idea after all that trouble with that one Cadet..." he ended with a ellipsis, a tempting trail of conversational breadcrumbs left to entice the Inspector's timid sense of curiosity. 

Percival was quite certain that he didn't want to know what 'all that trouble' meant. Surely it would involve something disastrous, disruptive, or-gods forbid-unstructured!  His fragile sense of Spontaneity, Adventure, and Free-spiritedness huddled in the corner and screamed in panic as Curiosity said "I'll just take a little peek..." and reached for the doorknob of their Panic Room.

"What sort of trouble?" Percival found himself asking  in spite of his better judgment.

"Weeeeell," Zack replied "Let's just say we had to write 'Goes on Head' on his uniform caps, and 'Goes on Ass' on his underwear."

"Goodness gracious!"

"He got the hang of it, eventually." Zack assured him as they climbed the short set of concrete steps," Is seemed that his 'confusion' was just due to a bad case of Petty Obstinance. It took about three days, but his malady was completely cured after intensive treatment using a rather...unconventional method."

"Oh?" Percy said weakly. He was beginning to dislike ellipses.

"Oh, yes. We cured him by allowing him to wear his underwear on his head. After his platoon mate, who just so happened to have a medical condition causing excessive sweating, got done wearing them."

Percival's stomach shriveled up and gave Curiosity a fiery glare as it peeked sheepishly from behind the door, while his other sensibilities had a group vomit in the corner. The rest of his faculties mounted a desperate search for the fabled Brain Bleach which was rumored to have the ability to scrub away even the most horrific mental image.

A sudden blast of cool air distracted Percy from his inner turmoil. Zack and Cloud had just ushered him through the double glass doors of the Main Building.

Percival was rather impressed, in spite of himself. The lobby was  tidy, spacious and brightly lit by both natural light and pleasantly old-fashioned incandescent light fixtures, and furnished in cozy, somewhat informal furniture pieces that punched Percy right in the nostalgia. It was an odd mix of clean and warm elements that undulated up to Percival's ear and breathed in a seductive whisper like a fancy perfume commercial: 'organizaaation!'

"You okay, Percy?" Zack asked as Percival shivered and his eyebrows did a little wiggle.

"Er...Oh, yes. Quite. I was just, er, admiring the design."

"I know, it's great, right? Much more 'homey' and inviting than the old one!" Zack said, pleased.

"I especially like the floor," Percy continued, his attention glued to the lobby floor like a magpie with a shiny bauble. "It's so clean and glossy!"

"It's polished every day with the tears of Cadets and SOLDIERs," Zack said. "It seems like the saltier the tears, the shinier-!"

A strange, halting squeak, like a squeegee on damp glass stuttered through the air, tripping into the conversation. All three men turned, ears following the auditory sputter as it grew steadily louder. Finally, from behind the reception desk's mahogany paneled wall, one of the ELITEs  appeared in his wolf form, slowly dragging his backside across the floor.

Percival's hands flew to his mouth, stifling a sound that was half a gasp and half a gag.

Wrapped up in proctologial locomotion the ELITE let out a startled yelp as he was abruptly grabbed by the scruff and a deceptively calm voice hissed into his fluffy ear, "What by Minerva's bra straps do you think you are doing?"

The wolf tried to play dead, in the hopes that Cloud's ELITE form's preference for moving victims would make him lose interest. No such luck.  Cloud hissed, a sound like a cross between a snake hiss and a piece of paper being violently ripped in half, and gave the ELITE a hard shake. 

"Did I just see you butt-surfing across my floor, leaving your butt-pucker streaks where I have to walk?" Cloud said in that calm, off-handed tone that eventually even Cadets learned to fear.

The wolf whined again and attempted to grovel but deep down he knew there was not getting out this mess unscathed. Hope of a mild punishment bloomed on the wolf's face as Cloud sent a passing SOLDIER off to Janitorial for a bottle of cleaner. The wolf even went so far as to relax as the bottle was brought and Cloud lightly spritzed the floor with it. This wasn't going to be so bad after all! It looked like he was just going to have to clean the floor. That wasn't going to be too hard!

Hope withered as Cloud gave the soiled floor a final misting, then grabbing the wolf by two handfuls of back fur, turned to the 3rd Class SOLDIER who had brought the cleaner and asked "What do we do when faced with hardship, Private?"

The SOLDIER snapped to attention and screamed "Improvise, Adapt, Overcome, Sir!"

Cloud nodded, and said "Well, Private, seeing as I lack proper cleaning equipment, I will just have to improvise."  Then without even a grunt, Cloud gave a heave, slapped the wolf down on the floor and proceeded to use him as an impromptu mop. When he was done, Cloud dismissed the wolf, now damp and smelling of lemony fresh pine trees, sending him scurrying off, tail tucked and belly low to the ground. It could have been worse, the canine part of him thought. He could have used The Rolled Up Newspaper!

With the minor interruption cleaned up, Zack led Percival down the hall behind the reception desk, pointing to the hallways leading off to the left and right. 

"The left wing contains the Infirmary, storage, and the Lab, and the right wing contains the cadets' barracks and officers' apartments. The President's office and rooms are in the upper floors of the Main Building, along with the administrative offices, lounges, and other boring stuff." Zack said as they started down the main hallway. He pointed out the important places, even though they were clearly labeled. 

"That is the Assembly Hall, the Recreation Room, the Restrooms, that's the door to the gardens, and this," Zack said in a very quiet whisper as they started coming up on a plain, unobtrusive door. "Is the janitor's closet where Corporal Wharton arranges what he thinks are 'secret' canoodles because he doesn't know that practically the whole base knows he's banging the President's secretary."

"My goodness!" Percival whispered, scandalized. "That is most certainly against regulations! He should have been reprimanded a long time ago!"

"Oh, I agree," Zack whispered with a sly grin as they paused a good distance away. "But I need solid proof, and not just hearsay." 

A playful titter fluttered out from behind the door. Zack motioned to Cloud, and they both flattened themselves dramatically up against the wall. Zack put a finger in his ear as if using an invisible ear piece and whispered. "Alpha Wolf to Paper Snake, the fox is in the hen house, over!"

"Paper Snake to-! Wait, why am I 'Paper Snake'?" Cloud asked, sounding slightly offended.

"Dude, have you heard yourself hiss?"

"So? I don't want to be 'Paper Snake'. That sounds like a kid's toy! I want a cool code name too!"

"Fine, you can be 'Danger Noodle'" 

"That's not any-!"

"Alpha Wolf to Danger Noodle, I'm going in! Repeat, I'm going in!"

Zack made a few hand signals and then started crawling towards the door. He paused and hopped into a crouch behind an invisible bush, making a show of looking around before rolling out from behind the bush to take cover behind an invisible tree. Cloud made the signal for 'all clear', and Zack waved and began moving again. Arms held out to the sides, he proceeded down the hallway, taking long, exaggerated steps with two little skips in between. You could practically hear the Pink Panther theme playing in the background. He pulled up next to the door, which giggled again, and silently gripped the handle before looking back at Cloud and Percival. Cloud nodded and gave the 'ok' signal.

In one fluid motion, Zack pushed down the handle and yanked the door open. There was a pair of surprised screams as a Second Class SOLDIER fell out of the closet at Zack's feet. A disheveled young woman in a rumpled white blouse and equally wrinkled gray pencil skirt bolted out of the closet, clearing the fallen man with a surprisingly athletic leap before rabbiting away.

"Corporal Wharton!" Zack greeted the man cheerfully. "Finally got caught with our pants down, did we? Wipe that cheeky grin off your face, SOLDIER-! Oh, my bad, that's not your face! On your feet and stand at attention, Corporal!"

Corporal Wharton flipped over and shot to his feet, standing at stiff attention. There was a long moment of silence in which Wharton began sweating nervously. Zack stared him in the eye, unblinking. He could see Wharton thinking: All those horror stories...are they true?!  

Zack Shifted into his half-form. His black wolf ears and tail were held proudly and at a dominant angle. He growled  and gave Wharton a grin with fangs in it. 

Wharton instinctively looked away. 

"You know the rules against fraternizing while on duty, especially with the President's personal secretary." Zack growled.  Wharton swallowed hard and managed a passable "Sir, yes Sir!"

Zack snapped his fingers, and one of his Mako wolves materialized at his side. "You will be escorted to your rooms, Corporal, where you will remain until this matter is handled."

Corporal Wharton saluted, brown eyes staring straight ahead in terror. "Sir, yes sir!"

 "And pull up your pants, Corporal!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

Zack Shifted back and turned to Percival and Cloud, grinning happily. "Alpha Wolf to Danger Noodle, Mission was a success! Repeat, Mission was a success!'

"Copy that, Alpha Wolf." Danger Noodle replied.

Zack patted Percival on the shoulder. He looked a little unsettled, which was nothing new. The man seemed to live in a state of perpetual anxiety, but he was looking a little more anxious than usual. 

 Better get him that drink fast, Zack thought Before Cloud ends up having to mop again!  Percival's eyebrows twitched nervously as they walked to the end of the hallway and stopped at the double doors under the sign "Mess Hall". 

"Here we are, the Mess Hall!" Zack said, flinging open the double doors with flair, to reveal a room with long rows of tables split in two columns. At the tables were more of the large wolves Percival had seen earlier. They were all crouching over the tables, muzzles buried in their chow bowls.

"Oh my Shiva!" Percival squeaked in horror, "There are dogs at the tables!"

Cloud and Zack both winced, and hissed "Shhhhh!"

"We don’t use the 'd' word around here!" Zack whispered with a grimace of distaste.

"The 'd' word?"

"Dog,", Zack clarified. "That's a four-letter word around here,"

"A three letter, four-letter word," Cloud added.

"But..."

"These are wolves, not dogs. Calling a wolf a dog is an insult. It's like calling someone..." Zack leaned over and whispered one of the worst, most profanity ridden insults he knew into the Inspector's ear.

Percival's face took on an almost corpse like pallor as the color drained from his face, his very blood trying to get as far from his ears as possible.

"Acceptable alternatives are 'doggo', 'pupper', and 'majestic floof'" Zack continued as Percival tried to regain his mental balance.

"But, there are animals in the Mess Hall!" Percy replied, clinging to his love of rules like a security blanket, while his sensibilities gagged as he imagined layers of dog, er, majestic floof hair covering every surface in the room, drifting in the air in clouds, and peppering the food.

"It's against Health Regulations!"

"It's cool," Cloud said smoothly, "They're Service Animals, so they're allowed."

"Yeah, we don't discriminate here." Zack added.

"But, the hair!" Percival insisted.

Zack heaved a mental sigh. This guy was way too uptight! "Oh, well, if that's all you're worried about,"

Zack turned, whistled loud and sharp, and barked "Shift!"

All the wolves immediately turned into men, three of which briefly continued to eat with their faces in their bowls before their brains nudged them and whispered Psst! Wrong shape!, and they sheepishly picked up their spoons and continued eating.

"I-is that dog food?!" Percival asked in a scandalized gasp as he witnessed one of the Mess Hall servers slap a heap of mixed canned and dry dog food into a bowl for a waiting ELITE.

"Top shelf quality!" Zack said with pride.

"You're feeding the men dog food?"

"Well, they are animals," Cloud interjected.

"But-!"

"It's nutritionally balanced, is high protein, and it's only served to the ELITEs." Zack said, taking pity on the high-strung man.  "I can get you the formula from the nutritionist, along with the research notes. The notes are pretty interesting, and they detail the research methods quite extensively."

The mention of formulas and carefully recorded notes seemed to appease Baerbotamm, at least a tiny bit. He stopped vibrating like a plucked bowstring and his eyebrows suddenly unscrunched in a twisting motion that made Cloud so uneasy that an involuntary hiss ripped its way from his throat.

It startled Percival so badly that he appeared to just teleport to the opposite side to the room like a bad special effect.

"Woahwoahwoah!" Zack said, looking back and forth between a bristling Cloud and a jittery Percy. "Let's dial it back a little!"

Cloud muttered an embarrassed apology while maintained his death grip on his clipboard, which he was clutching like a terrified Duchess clutching her pearls.

"How about we get a drink, huh?" Zack said, extending the proverbial olive branch before Barebotamm shook himself to pieces.

By now Percy's nerves had gone from merely jangling, to fraying. He desperately wanted to go back to his tidy, quiet office where rules were respected and not changed with total disregard all willy-nilly.  But he couldn't just leave! He had an inspection to complete, which had been assigned to him by the President himself.

"Come on, Percy, drinks are on me and Spiky," Zack said, giving the olive branch an encouraging shake. "You'll be doing us a favor. We need someone official to inspect bar. I mean, it is part of the Army."

A raw nerve whispered to Percival that maybe, this time, it would be acceptable to have a drink while on duty. Just one would certainly be alright. And besides, the host had offered. Then it made up some very convincing BS about etiquette and social interactions, which it submitted in triplicate along with some official looking sources that had just enough truth about them to avoid being categorized as outright lies.

"Do...you happen to have a good dark stout?" Percival inquired meekly.

"We sure do!" Zack affirmed happily.

The olive branch had been accepted, and the party took a good twenty minutes thoroughly inspecting the bottoms of two bottles and a pint. Percival even inspected a second pint, just to be sure that the drinks were up to par.

Once the beverage inspection was complete, and had earned an A+, a visibly less frazzled Percival Pinwinkle Baerbotamm was escorted to the next part of the tour.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

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