iluvroadrunner6 | fandom weekly { 2021 } entry tracking part 3

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fandom weekly { 2021 } entry tracking part 3

Fandom Weekly part the third.

101 and we all lose our charms in the end | leverage | 617 **SECOND PLACE**
102 the choice is yours | dctv | 698
103 we got fun and games | original | 830
104 i've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed | leverage | 1,000 **FIRST PLACE**
105 never shall we die | original | 553 **FIRST PLACE**
106 harder better faster stronger | original | 971 **AMNESTY**
107 give me all of your prayers to sing | tvdverse | 929
108 it's who we're doing them with | original | 861 **AMNESTY**
109 friends are like an old shirt that always makes you smile | dctv | 879 **WINNER**
110 take a look, it's in a book | tvdverse | 997 **SECOND PLACE**
- - - AMNESTY - - -
111 wouldn't you like to see something strange? | tvdverse | 756 **WINNER**
112 let me know if you're really a dream | uncharted | 760 **AMNESTY**
113 winter wonderlands weren't made for one | tvdverse | 934 **AMNESTY**
114 you love how i keep you guessing | teen wolf | 942 **AMNESTY**
115 speak up, take a stand | dctv | 911 **AMNESTY**
116 stay alive until this horror show has passed | teen wolf | 842 **AMNESTY**
117 it's love that makes me walk way | everyone lives | 960 **AMNESTY**
118 and i'll be you | tvdverse | 898 **AMNESTY**
119 i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drum | teen wolf | 981 **AMNESTY**
120 there's no rescuing now because you're falling apart | dctv | 996 **AMNESTY**
- - - AMNESTY - - -
121 stuck in the real world, nothing comes free | original | 979 **FIRST PLACE**
122 i couldn't compete with the spell you were under | tvdverse | 561 **AMNESTY**
123 let my heart be the teacher | the magicians | 589 **AMNESTY**
124 you better trust me when i tell you | suits | 729 **AMNESTY**
125 say the word and i'm already there | teen wolf | 832 **AMNESTY**
126 the wheel is spinning me | marvel cinematic universe | 1,000 **THIRD PLACE**
127 it all started with a big bang | dctv | 667 **AMNESTY**
128 am i past repair? | tvdverse | 910 **AMNESTY**
129 it was lost long ago | dctv | 982 **AMNESTY**
130 and for you, darling, i'll hang the moon | teen wolf | 967
- - - AMNESTY - - -
131 i would never fall unless it's you i fall into | izombie | 680 **AMNESTY**
132 this is the life that we choose | dctv | 996 **AMNESTY**
133 no porch light on to pull me home | supernatural/tvdverse | 866 **AMNESTY**
134 i'll pretend my ship's not sinking | original | 607 **AMNESTY**
135 does the fun ever start? | tvdverse | 972 **AMNESTY**
136 play me time and time again | original | 997 **AMNESTY**
137 when i closed my eyes, i was so surprised | original | 765 **AMNESTY**
138 and the journey's been so rough | original | 935 **AMNESTY**
139 you think you're on your way | original | 840 **AMNESTY**
140 now the pain has cut too deep | original | 840 **AMNESTY**
- - - AMNESTY - - -
141 it's some kind of secret plot | wynonna earp | 710 **AMNESTY**
142 we could steal time just for one day | marvel cinematic universe | 824 **AMNESTY**
143 the dream is over | dctv | 990 **AMNESTY**
144 i'm a porsche with no brakes | marvel cinematic universe | 979 **AMNESTY**
145 tempted but the truth is discovered | leverage | 538 **SECOND PLACE**
146 your faith was strong but you needed proof | white collar/leverage | 984 **SECOND PLACE**
147 this time did it feel like thunder | wynonna earp | 753
148 this is one unhappy diva | original | 994
149 no medicine to procure | dctv | 821
150 it's just a jump to the left | paper girls | 998
- - - AMNESTY - - -
151 some things are meant to be wynonna earp | 882 **AMNESTY**
152 such a lonely word | supernatural | 683 **AMNESTY**
153 i breathe in on the tick and out on the tock | dc extended universe | 1,000 **AMNESTY**
154 just searching for a world with some soul | the umbrella academy | 630 **AMNESTY**
155 the past was much more fun | tvdverse/teen wolf | 942 **AMNESTY**
156 it took so long to leave | original | 560 **AMNESTY**
157 when you feel so tired but you can't sleep | tvdverse | 826 **AMNESTY**
158 had to get away | original | 642 **AMNESTY**
159 pressed between the pages of my mind | tvdverse | 542 **AMNESTY**
160 i've come to you 'cause i need guidance to be true | haven | 925
- - - AMNESTY - - -
161 if you still have a place for me | haven | 968
162 i'm not gonna stand here and wait | original | 632 **FIRST PLACE**
163 you say it's your birthday | original | 655 **THIRD PLACE**
164 i made this whole world shine for you | tvdverse | 709
165 what do i do when lightning strikes me? | tvdverse | 741 **THIRD PLACE**
166 the loneliest number that you'll ever know | teen wolf | 998
167 i know you've got your reasons | leverage | 830 **RUNNER UP**
168 maybe you've been watching me too | original | 915 **SECOND PLACE**
169 you can read me anything | original | 713 **THIRD PLACE**
170 oops there goes another rubber tree plant | original | 613 **THIRD PLACE**
- - - AMNESTY - - -
171 and you better come to play | the umbrella academy/marvel cinematic universe | 778 **RUNNER UP**
172 but you were history with the slamming of the door | dctv | 659 **RUNNER UP**
173 you got nothing to do and even less to lose | leverage | 721 **FIRST PLACE**
174 you got your head in the clouds | the umbrella academy | 662 **AMNESTY**
175 and i wish that love could save us | original | 846 **SECOND PLACE**
176 gravity is pulling me closer to your heavenly body | leverage | 713 **AMNESTY**
177 that you may be my problem not my love | original | 995
178 but your apathy is like a wound in salt | original | 798
179 they're calling you a fool | original | 845
180 careful what you wish for | original | 555 **FIRST PLACE**
- - - AMNESTY - - -
181 i can't be trusted around you | original | 667
182 you're just harder to see than most | original | 881 **FIRST PLACE**
183 send out the call and join the fray | original | 949 **AMNESTY**
184 gonna lure you into the dark | tvdverse | 706 **AMNESTY**
185 and i'm damned if i do and damned if i don't | tvdverse | 859 **AMNESTY**
186 won't you let me in? | tvdverse | 761 **AMNESTY**
187 you were only killing time and it'll kill you right back | teen wolf | 825 **AMNESTY**
188 say the world and i'm already there | tvdverse/teen wolf | 912 **AMNESTY**
189 let's not wait for armageddon | original | 607 **AMNESTY**
190 i can't think of what else i need to see | tvdverse | 780 **AMNESTY**
- - - AMNESTY - - -
191 as clear as the sun in the summer sky | marvel cinematic universe | 840
192 are you ready to watch me be legendary? | original | 585 **WINNER**
193 somebody's judgement was poor | original | 888

Part 2
Running Word Count: 73,858 words

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Charlotte Prentiss, Duchess of Hanover. It has a lovely little ring to it.

Her hands shake as she makes sure, for the last time, she has all of her documentation in order. This is the hardest con she’s ever taken on, the most ambitious identity she’s ever tried to play, and she needs to make sure that everything’s ready. That everything goes off without a hitch.

If she can pull this off, then this would make her better than good. This would make her a legend.

She sold one painting she got in her last job, in order to ensure that she has the wardrobe required to pass herself off as a Duchess. She’s been practicing her accent and posture in the mirror for weeks. All the subtle cues, all the innate things that she’s learned from watching the nobility since she was a child, it all comes together in the perfect presentation of someone for whom the nobility lies deep in their blood.

Someone who was literally born to be there.

She can do this. All of this acting training and practice stealing can’t have been for naught. She will succeed at this. And once she does, no one will ever forget the name Sophie Devereaux.

Smoothing down the front of her suit, she squares her shoulders and stares down at her reflection in the mirror.

“Now,” she says to no one but herself. “Let us begin.”

* * * * *

The diamonds sparkle around the Countess of Kensington’s neck, and Sophie has to fight the urge to stare. It’s a beautiful piece, signifying her rank and place at the table, and while the Countess sits lower than a duchess, Sophie’s age allows her to defer to the other woman as an affectionate auntie. Saves them both the time of trying to out-measure the other. The Countess is grateful to have someone new to gossip with and spills all the secrets and Sophie laps them up like a sponge.

Secrets are often currency, after all.

“Oh, William!” The Countess seems to be distracted for a moment as Sophie reaches over to grab another glass of champagne. “Be a dear, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” It doesn’t register at first that the Countess means her, but not long after she feels a slight tug on her arm as the Countess regains her attention on the conversation at hand.

“Darling, I’d like you to meet Charlotte, the newest Duchess of Hanover. Charlotte, this is my son, William.”

Sophie turns to meet his gaze, and for the moment, everything stops. Warm brown eyes, a gentle smile, a kind face. He’s everything she should steer far, far away from, but she can’t help but want to bask in it, just for a moment longer.

“Hello,” he says softly, and she smiles in return, almost forgetting that she was in character. The Countess gives her a squeeze, before releasing her to the wolves.

“Now that you to are acquainted, I have some people I need to talk with. Come find me before you leave, will you? We’ll make plans for tea.”

“Yes, of course,” Sophie nods, watching as the other woman disappears into the night, before turning back to the man in front of her.

“Well,” William clears his throat, before turning to offer her his arm. “I hear the gardens are lovely this time of night, if you care to take a stroll?”

Sophie smiles, taking his arm with ease. “I would love that, truly.”

True, this might be a bit distracting from the rest of the con. But never let it be said that she’s not one to make sure she’s got multiple opportunities on hand.

Edited 2023-01-09 00:31 (UTC)

“Do you ever wonder why the multiverse is even a thing?”

Barry blinks as he glances over at Sara. They’ve been staring up at the stars in silent contemplation, their usual routine for when they get together to remember Oliver. Barry tries his best to keep Sara tethered to the rest of them, not wanting her to disappear into the time stream forever. She’s been keeping up, mostly, barring time travel shenanigans.

“What do you mean?”

Sara shrugs, tipping her eyes up towards the sky again. “Why all these different worlds, and different versions of us? Wasn’t the universe content with just one? Does everyone really need an evil version of themselves?”

“It’s not the universe,” Barry replies simply, leaning back against the lounge chair as he tries to put it into words. They had blended all the worlds together, but the multiverse isn’t tamable. Barry learned that the hard way. The multiverse, in all its glory, was always going to depend on one thing. “It’s choices.”

Sara frowns, trying to place what he means by that, before turning to face Barry more. “What do you mean?”

“There was this physicist once that explained it better than I ever could. I mean, I know the physics of it all, but the theory was that every time we make a choice, the world splinters, and somewhere out there, amid everything, there’s a version of us that made the opposite choice. So somewhere out there, there’s a Barry who didn’t become a scientist, or didn’t marry Iris, or didn’t become the Flash—”

“Or a Sara that didn’t get on the Gambit, or a Sara that didn’t get on the Waverider.”

“All of our choices make up who we are. And choices influence other people’s choices. We make so many tiny choices every day and… some are good, some are bad. But we wouldn’t be the people are are here and now without them.”

Sara nods slowly, looking at the stars again. “So, do you think there’s a Laurel out there somewhere that’s more like mine? Who didn’t break bad for whatever reason?”

“Maybe.” Barry knows better than to deny that there’s the possibility. But as he looks back to the stars himself, he shrugs. “But I think the one you’ve got here is doing her best.” Sara gives him a look, and he takes another innocent sip of his beer. “What?”

“Black Siren isn’t my sister.”

“Maybe not a perfect version, but she still had a Sara who she loved and lost when we lost Earth Two. And she’s been doing a lot of good here with the Canaries.” He takes a deep breath. “I know she’s not the same. Obviously, she didn’t make the same choices as you, have the same wounds. But she’s dealing with the same loss, and she’s stuck here with no one else who knows the person she used to be before.”

Sara raises an eyebrow. “Using my own words against me. That’s a low blow.”

Barry smirks. “That Tommy guy is pretty cool too.”

“I didn’t say that he—” Sara huffs. “Are you trying to persuade me to come home more often?”

“Maybe. Do you really not miss us? At all? I mean, we’re really trying to be better at having big group get-togethers when the world isn’t ending, especially since we’re all on the same Earth now.”

She blinks. “Like a reunion?”

“No, not at all.”

“Barry, did you tell her about the reunion?” Kara’s voice carries from the barbecue pit, and Barry makes a face.

“Okay, maybe it’s a bit of a reunion. But think about it! It could be nice to get together when the world isn’t at stake.”

Sara sighs before nodding. “I’ll think about it.”

Barry grins. “I’m going to get a couple more burgers. You want one?”

Sara waves him off, letting him disappear back into the crowd. As she looks up at the stars, she can’t help but think of how nice it would be to have a reason to come home again.

Even if it is only to a mirror universe version of her sister—a Laurel is better than no Laurel at all.

Edited 2021-08-05 21:37 (UTC)

“Are you sure you need all of that?”

The humidity sticks to Robert’s skin as he rearranges his pack on his shoulders, shifting to make sure the weight fits comfortably. Their trek through the jungle to get to their destination is a struggle enough as it is. The doctor he’s escorting needing to transport all her medical supplies this last stretch that’s not traversable by car is not something he planned for.

“Yes. These medical supplies are essential.” Doctor Rollins hems and haws as she stares at the back of the truck, trying to determine what would be best to prioritize. “This village doesn’t have much.”

Robert huffs, before pulling off his pack and seeing what space he has. When she hired him for this job, he wasn’t aware that roads were going to be washed out from the latest river flood. But now they’re too far in turning back before dark, and this part of the jungle isn’t suitable for camping.

“Let’s try to think of this another way. If we stash the Jeep somewhere nearby, what do you think will be the most immediate need? We can gather help and come back for the rest later.” Rollins seems uncertain, and he rolls his eyes. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you? Triage.”

Her uncertain look turns to a glare as she takes that personally, before rolling her eyes and reaching for some boxes. “Can you take some of it?”

“Yeah. I can fit a few boxes of something.”

“Good.” She passes him boxes of medical supplies out of the back of the jeep, light boxes that contain God knows what. “Tell me when to stop.”

After rearranging a few things, he gets what he can, and she loads up a backpack of her own and slings it over her shoulder. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Finally,” Robert mutters under his breath, before heading into the trees. Hopefully, they can make it their in one piece.

* * * * *

The thing about the jungle is that it’s never silent. There’s always some kind of activity happening, whether it’s chattering birds, buzzing insects or the sound of the wind through the trees. That’s why, when the noise suddenly drops off, he stops in his tracks.

“What?” Rollins asks, before he can turn and clamp a hand over her mouth. They’re near one of the nearby creeks to the river, still swollen from last night’s rains. His eyes scan over the terrain, looking for some kind of trouble, but he can’t read the signs. All he knows is that the silence isn’t a good one.

“It’s too quiet.”

The doc has the good sense to keep her mouth shut after that. He removes his hand from her mouth and gestures for her hand, easing their way quietly across the creek. Slippery rocks stick out over the water and he carefully leads, stepping firmly to make sure they’re in fact rocks before guiding her across. They’re about halfway there when he hears a gasp from behind him, and her hand in his tightens.

“What?” he asks, and when he turns, he sees what she sees. The water ripples, and the large body that he might have mistaken for a rock, were it not for the slight expansion and retract of its ribs. A gator, most likely, and a big one. And they had stumbled right into its territory.

While alligators seem slow to get started, he knows they can move lightning fast when they need to be. Which means they need to be faster. He stares the animal down, knowing that with the body there, the muzzle isn’t far behind. “On my signal, you run as fast as you can to the other side and up the embankment. Do you understand?”

Rollins nods slowly, eyes still fixed on the alligator, almost as though if she looks away, it’s going to rear up and eat her.

“Rollins?”

“Yeah,” she answers verbally, her eyes snapping briefly to her guide and nodding. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good.” He takes a breath before looking at the path ahead. “Three… two… one… go!”

They both fall into a dead sprint, jogging across the rocks as elegantly as possible while also trying not to slip. Once their feet hit the shore, their gait is stronger, powering up the embankment and out of reach of the gator. The gator, unimpressed, doesn’t even bother to follow them.

He must have already eaten today. Lucky them.

As they slow to a stop to catch their breaths, Rollins doubles over, hands on her knees. “That’s lucky. Were we just lucky?”

Robert laughs before nodding. “Yeah. I’d say we were pretty damn lucky.”

Rollins smiles, before straightening again and preparing to walk. “So. How much further do we have to go?”

Robert nods as business resumes, and he gestures down the other side of the hill. “Not far. After you.”

And as she turns to head past him, he catches himself thinking that maybe this job isn’t such a bad one after all.

The job is not going according to plan.

Things get complicated when you’re running a con against complicated people, people raised to think they’re the smartest person in the room. But it’s unprecedented when two of your heavy hitters get burned fairly early on.

“You should have mentioned that you had a history with the security firm,” Sophie sighs as she and Eliot head down the highway towards their new hotel arrangements. So far, the rest of the crew remains in play, and Eliot and Sophie are doing their best to keep it that way. But from the way Eliot is gripping the steering wheel, he’s not fond of this turn of events.

“I didn’t have a history with the firm. I had a history with the guy running the firm. You didn’t mention that you’ve already tried to steal from this guy.”

“I’ve been at this a long time, Eliot. You can’t expect me to remember the face of every incidental person involved in each of my grifts.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“Alright, calm down both of you.” Nate’s voice forces them both into silence as they continue to drive away. “Hardison’s got both of you a room at the Chimney Rock Inn, under the names Mr. and Mrs. Willsburne. Sophie, you did the booking.”

“Right, Melanie Willsburne.” She reaches into her purse to go sorting through her IDs. “Good call, Hardison.”

“Even got you both a kitchenette for your trouble.”

“Just lie low for now,” Nate sighs, and she can tell he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll let you know if we need you.”

“Copy that.”

Eliot says nothing else for the rest of the drive to the inn. She can see the tension in his shoulders, knows that he doesn’t enjoy being this far away, where he can’t protect the rest of them like he should. Sophie doesn’t know how to resolve that worry, so she just keeps her thoughts to herself, and when they arrive, checks them in with no trouble. They pile into the elevator and she leans back with a sigh.

“I hope the bathroom is nice. I could use a long hot bath.”

Eliot raises an eyebrow towards her. “In a hotel bathroom?”

“You take what you can get,” she says idly as the doors open and she leads the way down to their room. She slides the keycard into the door and pushes it open to a revelation that’s slightly underwhelming.

The room has a kitchenette. That much isn’t a lie. But the room otherwise is small, with a TV, a small bathroom and one king-sized bed filling the middle.

“Really, Hardison?” Eliot snaps.

“I’m sorry, were you expecting a full suite on short notice. It’s a very nice room.”

“There’s only one bed!”

“Alright, just relax. You won’t have to be there long. Let us do our job.”

Eliot and Sophie share a look before reaching in and pulling out their earbuds. As the door closes behind them, Eliot nods to the armchair across the room. “I’ll take the chair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re adults. We can handle this like adults.”

Eliot turns the weight of his gaze on her again. “I’ll take the chair.” And there, as though the conversation was over, he turns to the kitchen. “Hungry?”

Sophie sighs, before nodding her agreement. This is going to be a long wait.

* * * * *

Two days into the wait, after finishing up their breakfast, Sophie sets her plates on the counter of the kitchenette before patting the edge of the bed. “Sit.”

Eliot frowns. “Why?”

“Because I can see how you’re moving. If you’re going to insist on ruining your back on my account, the least you could do is let me fix it.”

Eliot looks like he’s going to argue, but she stares him down, and he concedes in the end, moving to sit in front of her as she balances on her knees behind him.

“Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“I thought you would know by now, Eliot. I’m a woman of many talents.” She catches the edges of a smirk in the corner of his mouth, before putting her hands to work against his shoulders and slowly soothing the tight spots away. As she works, she can feel him relax against her, not letting his guard down, necessarily—Eliot’s guard is never down—but there’s an ease to it, a kind of safety that she doubts he feels with anyone outside their small family.

“I know you think I’m being ridiculous,” he begins, and as she opens her mouth to respond, she catches the look in his eyes in the mirror. “But… this is better.”

Sophie takes a deep breath. “I appreciate you think you’re being respectful, but I don’t think Hell will freeze over if we shared a rather enormous bed when there aren’t any alternatives.”

“Do you think Nate would see it that way?”

“Nate is not part of this conversation.”

“You know, you could offer to take the chair one night.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, a moment of curiosity in her expression as she turns to face him, focusing the challenge directly on him. “Would you let me?”

There’s a moment of silence as he weighs the answer to that challenge, a question of whether his Southern manners would allow for that kind of equality. But before he can respond, his phone buzzes against the dresser, and he reaches over to check the caller ID.

“Hardison.” He places the phone to his ear with a gruff. “Yeah?” The conversation doesn’t last long, but Sophie already knows the end. She gets up, gathering what remains of her thinks together and placing her earbud back in her ear.

“Guess we’re back on then.”

Eliot nods as he gets to his feet before leaning in closer. “We will finish this conversation later.”

Sophie smirks in response before slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure we will.”

Edited 2023-01-09 00:32 (UTC)

Sometimes, when the wind comes off the sea and the smell of brine reaches her nose, she fiercely misses the open water.

While she and her pirate are too old for a genuine life of seafaring, there’s a certain freedom that comes with the ocean. Isabella remembers standing on the edge of the deck, leaning into the wind and feeling it almost lift her off her feet. The thrill of the unpredictable weather, the risk of coming across an enemy on the high seas and the thrum of adventure will always be the highlight of her life.

Charles always told her that the sea was his favorite place. By the end of the adventures, Isabella couldn’t deny that it was hers too.

Pushing off of the porch, she makes her way into the shed and goes through some of the old flags they’ve stashed away, and finding her favorite: the one with the ship’s sigil emblazoned in black and silver. Shaking off the dust, she takes it outside to their flag pole. The pulley is rusted, with the weather it’s seen over the years, but her old hands still secure the flag and lift it up to flap in the wind over the cliff.

The front door opens, and she hears her husband’s heavy footsteps on the porch. When she turns to see him, his weathered smile greets her.

“You raised the colors.”

“I was feeling nostalgic,” she teases, before making her way closer to him. “It’s been so long since we’ve been on the ocean.”

“It has. And for good reason.” He draws her into his arms, letting his head rest on top of hers as she leans into him. “These old bones aren’t as good at running from the guard as they used to be.”

She laughs. “Your balance isn’t good for the water either.”

“Mmm. Now why is this about all my shortcomings?” He raises an eyebrow at her. “Maybe we should throw in a few of yours.”

“I thought you told me I had no shortcomings,” she teases.

“And I stand by that, my love, but a little humility might be nice occasionally.”

She laughs, turning her eyes back out to the sea ahead of them and exhaling slowly. They had so many adventures in their pirate ship. It’s a shame to think that they may never be out there again. She rubs his side gently, before turning back to look at him.

“When it’s my time, will you take me out to the sea again?” Her eyes meet his earnestly. “Lay me to rest in the ocean where I belong?”

“Bold of you to assume that you’re going to die before I am.”

She laughs. “You know what I mean. In the off chance that you outlive me.”

Charles considers quietly, before turning to face her again. “How’s this? When we’re ready to depart this Earth, we take one last trip together. Die at sea, as so many of our friends did.”

She considers briefly, before nodding in return. “Yes. I think sounds like an excellent idea.”

“Good.” Drawing her back to the seat on the porch, they settle in together as the sun rises high above them off the water. “That sounds like the perfect way to start our next adventure.”

Isabella finds she couldn’t agree more.

Edited 2023-01-09 00:32 (UTC)

“You got this, babe.”

Marie’s hands massage Orson’s shoulders as he leans back to assess the playing field. He doesn’t think she’s wrong there—the competition in this round is more general than usual. It probably won’t start really challenging him until a couple of layers higher, but Marie has been one to hype him up, even if it isn’t as much of a challenge.

Besides, it’s been a while since he’s been in a competition like this one. He could use the ego boost. The annual Bellmont County robotics competition has always been one of his favorite events, but he’s had to skip the last couple of years due to work. The timing seems to have worked out this year, with Armand and T.J. off doing their own thing for the weekend.

“Are you sure this isn’t cheating?” He glances over at her and raises an eyebrow. “The company is really taking off.” WakeTech has expanded more and more—the opportunities he’ll have to take part in a robotics competition like this one are going to narrow down.

“Not at all. You worked hard on that bot. And you said it yourself. The company may take off, but it’s not there yet.” Marie wraps her arms around his shoulders and tugs him back with a small hug. “Maybe this will be the last one. Do you really want to back out now, knowing that?”

He shakes his head. “No. I want to kick their asses.”

“Atta boy,” Marie grins as she leans in to kiss him.

They’ve both always been competitive. It’s why they both went into the highly stressful fields they did. But the best part about their marriage is that they’ve never competed directly. Their respective interests were in different directions, leaving them with plenty of room to cheer each other on. In a lot of ways, it’s a relief. Some women he’s dated have never really understood that part of his life.

He likes the competitive nature of the world. But he wants him and his partner to be on the same side.

“That guy looks like a real asshole.” Marie points to one competitor across the way, too far away for them to see clearly. “Make sure you get him really good. Maybe make him blow up like a firework.”

She’s kidding, mostly. He smirks before pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “I don’t think fireworks are strictly necessary.”

“Just because they’re unnecessary doesn’t mean it won’t be fun,” she grins, before pressing a kiss to his temple. The judges are moving into place, so the competition’s about to begin. This means any spectators have to return to their seats, so and she gives him one last kiss for luck. “Knock ‘em dead.”

“Thanks,” he grins, before turning his attention back to the pit ahead of him. The jagged wasteland of junk and obstacles lay ahead, and he glances down at his little robot friend and gently pats the top of his head before lowering him into the entry hole.

“You heard the lady,” he murmurs. “Knock ‘em dead.”

And if he has any luck, he will.

* * * * *

It turns out luck is, in fact, in his favor. While he doesn’t come in first—that “asshole” that Marie had designated earlier backed him into one of the mines and his poor buddy doesn’t last much longer after that. But it was a good game, scratching an itch that was desperately in need of relief.

And, he still gets to compete in round two with a second place finish.

As he rounds the corner out into the major thoroughfare of the arena, Marie waits for him by the door, flashing him a smile as she slides an arm around his waist.

“Not bad, hun. You really had him there until that last bit.”

“It happens. Sometimes you just aren’t as lucky as you’d like to be.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head, tucking the box of busted robot parts under the opposite arm, and one arm around her. “At least I still made regionals.”

“At least there’s that.” She frowns as she looks over at the box. “Is there anything salvageable?”

Orson shakes his head as he glances over. “Don’t know yet. I’ll have to do a full diagnostic when I get home. But, some of the other robot features gave me some good ideas for a beta model.”

“You can rebuild him,” she smirks. “You have the technology.”

“That we do.” He leans in to kiss her, before the winner approaches him from the opposite door. He looks a lot younger than he did in the arena's glare, much closer to a kid just out of college. He looks almost apologetic as he holds out a hand to him.

“Mr. Lu, I’m so sorry. I thought—I didn’t realize it was you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And if you had, I certainly hope you wouldn’t have let me win.” The kid falters, and Orson smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Marcus, sir.”

“Marcus, I come here because I want to be challenged. It’s no fun if you just let me win because you know my work.” He reluctantly let go of his wife before holding his hand out to Marcus. “You played a good game. You deserved to win.”

Marcus shakes his hand with a nod. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Orson grins. “Make sure you bring your A-game at Regionals, though. No guarantee you’ll get lucky twice.”

With another bright smile from Marcus, Orson continues to follow his wife to the door. “Good kid.”

“Yes, he is,” she smiles.

“Disappointed you didn’t get any fireworks?”

Marie laughs as she reaches forward to open the door for him. “You can always make it up to me later.”

Edited 2021-09-30 03:03 (UTC)

In the world of the supernatural, Bonnie Bennett has seen it all. She’s been a witch, she’s been a hunter, she’s been the anchor to the Other Side, she’s been a ghost. She’s seen the before and after, dealt with Original vampires and dangerous immortals. She’s mourned far more people than she’s cared to after such a brief life. And as far as she’s concerned, after she loses Enzo and they’ve dealt with freeing people from Hell of all things, Bonnie takes charge of her own life.

She’s done being the witch on call, done with bending her own wants to the demands of men like Stefan and Damon Salvatore. So she says goodbye to her friends, saying that she’ll be there if she’s ever truly needed, but she needs to fight for her own life for a change.

So unmoors herself from the life she knew in Mystic Falls and begins the life to come after. It’s a risk, but it feels right and after everything Mystic Falls has cost her, it’s time to begin again, somewhere new.

After all, she promised Enzo. She has to follow through.

Not that troubles don’t find her, anyway.

She’s wandering the streets of London, taking in the sights and sounds, when she notices she’s being followed. She keeps her cool, not wanting to give away to the person in question that she knows he’s there, and continues on her way to the room she’s renting near the West End. Once she gets close enough, she ducks in the open alleyway, waits for her tail to slip in behind her.

Her arm comes up under his chin and shoves him back into the wall. “You’re following me.”

“No, I’m not. I swear.”

“You’ve been following me for almost six blocks. I know a tail when I see one.”

“Really, I swear—”

“I’m really not in the mood to bullshit with you right now. So tell me what you want, or you’re really going to regret wasting my time.”

The man huffs before straightening a bit. “You’re a Bennett witch, yeah?”

“Not sure why that’s any of your business.”

“I need your help.”

“So you followed me, instead of just using your words?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you would help.”

She raises an eyebrow with a smirk. “I’ll save you some time. The answer’s no.”

The man scoffs as she pushes away from him and lets him go. “You haven’t even heard the problem.”

“I don’t need to. But I don’t know you and I have no reason to trust you, so why should I do anything for you.”

“Many people could die.”

She eyes him for a moment, trying to determine if he’s being serious or not, but something about the way he throws that out there makes her think it’s not. She knows what it’s like to have the weight of multiple lives on your shoulders. That’s not how you say it. “Been there, done that,” she throws back at him. “It’s not my problem.”

“I thought Bennett witches are heroes.”

Her shoulders tighten, and she turns to face him again, tipping her head to the side. “And what gave you that impression?”

“They’re… the good witches.”

Bonnie nods again, considering. “And you know what that’s gotten us? Shorter lives, burying more friends than we’d care to admit, and a life that’s essentially a horror show. Vampires and wolves twist our arm to get what we want and never allow us the agency to say no. So you know what? I’m sorry for whatever situation you’re in. But you’re not entitled to my time or my magic.”

The man pauses, looking desperate, before looking down again. “She’s dying. My gran. She hasn’t got long left, but there’s something she needs to do before she passes. Something she won’t be able to do on the Other Side. But I’m not strong enough and neither is she.”

But you are is the unsaid statement. Bonnie tips her head to the side as she listens, but doesn’t say yes or no. She just waits.

“You don’t have to hurt anyone or stop anything. You just have to help cast a spell that’ll give an old lady some peace.”

Bonnie huffs but she doesn’t agree. Not yet. “What’s your name?”

“Ben.”

“What kind of spell?” It’s not that she doesn’t trust Ben—she doesn’t—but she knows that there are layers to these things and people used her before. It’s almost as though he prepared for that question, because he reaches into his backpack and pulls out an old grimoire and flips to the page he needs. Turning it to face her, he allows her to examine it, checking for any catches or issues, and there’s none to be found. The spell is a blessing—a powerful one, but still just a blessing.

That she can do.

She takes a breath and nods. “I’ll help. But you can’t tell anyone else that I was here, or I did this.” She doesn’t need every witch in London knocking on her door.

“Deal.” he nods, offering a small smile. He turns to lead the way out of the alley, and she follows.

“I’m Bonnie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Bonnie.”

* * * * *

The blessing takes less than an hour. By the end of the evening, Ben’s gran passes peacefully. And for once, Bonnie feels like she used her magic for good, rather than twisted around for evil.

It’s a nice feeling. Maybe it’s the feeling that comes with being free.

Something clatters gently against the glass of Cecily’s window.

She wouldn’t have heard it, if all had gone to plan this evening After all, it’s near two in the morning, and she should, like most teenagers her age, be fast asleep in the comfort of her own bed, sleeping the sleep of the well-rested. But nothing about tonight had gone to plan. She’s been tossing and turning for hours, unable to sleep, frantically worried about the tests to come tomorrow.

She’s certain she’s going to fail. She’s going to fail, and everyone is going to hate her. It’s a familiar spiral that often comes at these high stress points during the school year, and while she knows it’s not true—most of the time she performs on average with the rest of her class. But that doesn’t stop the fear from coursing through her, wondering if this will be the time that all her worst fears come true.

It’s because of this anxiety smile that she doesn’t notice the first time the sound appears, or the second. It isn’t until the buzzing of her cell phone accompanies the third that she snaps out of it and roll over to see the text:

Look outside your window.

Frowning, she rolls to her feet and makes her way over to the window to look down at the front yard. Standing there is her boyfriend, Ivan, and he gives a small wave. She shakes her head before texting him back.

What are you doing here?

Come down and find out.

She makes a face at the response, before sliding her feet into shoes and quietly inching through the house so as not to disturb her parents. While they like Ivan, she has a feeling that if they caught him sneaking their daughter out of the house at two in the morning, that fondness might have a limit.

She freezes when one of the squeaky old stairs lets out a creeeeeeeak, but after a brief pause, no one in the house stirs and she continues to make her way down the stairs and to the front door. Ivan brightens when he sees her, jogging over to meet her at the door for a kiss.

“Hey.”

She takes the kiss, but pulls back to blink at him again. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to save you from yourself.”

She blinks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know how you get when finals come around. I’m here to get you out of your head.”

“At two in the morning?”

“Better late than never.” He grins back at her before draping an arm around her shoulders. “So what do you say? Wanna go for a drive?”

She glances back at the house and the upstairs bedroom where she should be, then back at the car that’s waiting. She could spend the next few hours restless in her own bed or she could spend some quality time with her boyfriend that might actually leave her feeling better. For her, it’s a no-brainer.

She quickly turns back to lock the door, then glances back at him with a nod. “So where are we going?”

“My favorite place in the whole world.”

* * * * *

About an hour later, the car comes to a stop at the top of the ridge. The trees part in front of their parking spot, revealing the dark shadows of the town below, as well as the twinkling stars you can’t normally see from the ground below. Cecily takes a breath, staring out over the beautiful view with a smile.

“Wow.”

“Told you,” he grins, inching over on the bench seat to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

As she settles comfortably into the silence, she can already hear her brain quieting, whether it’s from exhaustion or just the familiar presence trying to distract her. She glances over to consider him. “How did you know?”

“What?”

“How did you know I needed this?”

Ivan shrugs as he considers his answer. “I know you get all stressed about finals and stuff. And I figured that if you were going to suffer, better something that gets you out of your own head, rather than suffering on your own.”

Cecily smiles softly, before leaning in to kiss him again. This time longer and more lingering than the one in front of her house. He makes a happy noise into the kiss, pulling her closer. Things descend briefly into the usual teenage things, letting him distract her with his lips and hands before she pulls back with a sigh.

“If we get caught trying to smuggle me back into the house, you’re the one who has to explain it to my parents.”

Ivan’s face blanches briefly before sighing. “I guess I walked myself into that one.”

She nods. “I’ll make it up to you?”

“You better,” he smirks before pulling her back in again. As she continues to kiss him, she can’t help but feel that this is the best result of insomnia that she’s had in a while.

She just hopes that she doesn’t regret it in the morning.

Edited 2021-09-30 03:04 (UTC)

Iris comes home from work to the living room of the loft, rearranged to fit a small movie space. There are cushions and chairs arranged around the projector, a variety of snacks sitting in bowls on one of the coffee tables, and a projector set up to shine its light on a blank wall across the way. She blinks in surprise until her husband steps around the corner from the kitchen and flashes her a smile.

“Hey! You’re home.”

“So are you,” Iris smirks as she makes her way over to him. “I thought you were going out with Cisco, Caitlin and Kara.”

“Well, we were, but we decided that whenever we go out and do something, something goes wrong and we get attacked. So we doing a movie marathon night-in instead!”

Iris smirks as she moves closer to the smell of pizza. “You realize that’s just a side effect of living in Central City, and having a night-in probably won’t save it from being interrupted?”

Barry flashes her an amused look before leaning in closer with a smirk. “Don’t jinx my completely brilliant plan here.”

Iris laughs. “I just want to make sure that you set your expectations in a reasonable place, that’s all. And you know you can always tap the B-Squad if you guys really need a night off.”

He shakes his head. “We are going to be fine. Central City’s bound to have one quiet night eventually, right?”

Iris briefly wonders if that’s going to jinx it. “Do you want me to give you the apartment to yourselves? Let you have some friend time.”

Barry looks almost wounded at the prospect. “I would never kick you out of your own home.”

“You’re not kicking me out. I’m offering.”

“I know. But you should at least stay for pizza.” Barry smirks before pulling her in for a quick kiss. “And we’re probably going to start with Star Trek IV, which lets be honest is pretty on brand.”

Iris grabs a couple kernels of popcorn before tipping her head to the side. “Is that the one where Luke blows up the Death Star?”

Barry doesn’t correct her, but in her gut, she knows that’s not quite right.

* * * * *

They’re about halfway through the third movie of the night, when Team Flash’s phones light up with the emergency signal. Kara blinks in confusion as she pushes up from the floor. “Is that the Bat Signal?”

“Of course not,” Cisco replies glibly. “Barry is the Flash.”

Kara’s eyes narrow briefly. “Is it the Flash signal, then?”

Barry makes a face. “It might be?”

Kara nods, before starting to push herself up. “Should we go?”

Iris reaches for her phone. “I can call Allegra and Chester. See if they can handle it?”

Barry looks reluctant, and Kara raises an eyebrow in return. “Do we know what it is?”

“Looks like a meta human break in down by Jitters,” Caitlin holds up the newsfeed. “Unclear what they want at the moment.”

“Psh,” Kara smirks. “Just one meta? We’ll be in and out in five minutes.”

Barry shakes his head. “You’re on vacation. You shouldn’t have to clean up Central City’s problems too.”

“I came here to spend time with my friends. And let’s be honest, it’ll go a lot faster if I’m here to help.”

Cisco and Caitlin both look from Kara to Barry, eyebrows raised in a silent question. Barry looks back to Iris, and when she nods in agreement, he glances back at them with a smile. “Alright. We needed to pick up more pizza, anyway.”

Kara grins as the two of them prepare to zoom off. “I love a team up.”

* * * * *

As predicted, they take less than an hour to dispatch of their bad guy, but by then, Cisco and Caitlin are ready to call it a night. After dropping the two of them off at their respected homes, Barry and Kara pick up the next round of pizza and resettle on Barry’s living room floor, finishing up the rest of the movie.

“I’m sorry Central City did what Central City does.” Barry glances over with a small smile. “I know you were looking for more of a low-key vacation.”

Kara shakes her head. “Don’t even worry about it. I had fun. And honestly, being a superhero in a city that’s not my own feels like way less work, oddly enough.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, maybe the expectation isn’t there? These people aren’t counting on me to save them all the time. So when I show up, I’m a delightful surprise.” She smirks. “Besides. Saving the day is always more fun when you’re doing it with friends.”

“That is definitely true.” Barry laughs as he goes to settle next to her. “Oliver was always at least twenty percent less broody when he was working with us versus working alone.”

“Clearly that is because we are the best crime fighting team.”

“Hands down. We make all of this look fun.” Barry grins as he drapes an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. “I’m really glad you came.”

Kara smiles as she rests her head against his shoulder. “Me too. I think this was just what we both needed.”

“We have a problem.”

Josie looks up from her homework, and her brow furrows in her sister’s direction. Lizzie closes the door, wearing her “Hero Time” face, and Josie knows her day is about to take a turn for the messy. All she asks is that it doesn’t end with her covered in slime.

“What kind of problem? A monster problem?”

Lizzie pauses before making her way to sit on her bed so that she’s facing her sister. Choosing to room with Lizzie may have been the most basic choice she could have made when they were going to college, but they’re far from home and it’s good to have something familiar close by. And they set good boundaries this time around.

“I think something has infected the library.”

“Define infected.”

“It’s weird there. Like uncomfortably, eerily quiet. People just don’t talk, and there’s a creepy librarian who watches over everything and I’m getting some supernatural vibes.”

“Are you sure she’s not just a scary librarian, tired college students and your overactive imagination?” Josie doesn’t mean to be dismissive, but it’s possible that her sister is making a mountain out of a molehill.

Lizzie’s eyes narrow, Josie catches her taking a breath so that she doesn’t blow up. “Will you just come with me and see what I mean?”

Josie takes her own breath, because she has homework to do, but she should at least hear Lizzie out. Just in case she’s not wrong. She nods and reaches for her sister’s hand. “Okay. Show me what you mean.”

Lizzie brightens as she pulls Josie to her feet and flashes her a smile. “To the library!”

Yep. It’s Hero Time alright.

* * * * *

The moment they step into the library, Josie can feel the change in the air. It sends a shiver up her spine and she stops short, trying to take in the strangeness and see if she can figure out where it’s coming from.

“See?” Lizzie smirks when she notices the look on Josie’s face. “Something’s weird here.”

“Yeah, something is.”

In some ways, Lizzie undersold the stillness of it all. As Josie follows her twin through the building, the contrast between the normally bustling campus outside and the deserted feeling of the library makes her skin crawl. There are thousands of students here, planning on eventually graduating. Why aren’t there more kids here studying?

As they wander past the empty tables, Josie can’t help but feel like she’s missing a piece of the puzzle. Stopping in front of the stacks, Josie’s eyes land on the librarian in charge of this section. Her nameplate reads “Jocelyn Frank” and Jocelyn looks exactly how Josie would expect a librarian to look. She tied her long hair up in a tight bun that compliments her button down suit and classic half-moon glasses. Old-fashioned, but someone who didn’t know any better might infer nothing wrong.

For Josie, however, her witch senses are tingling.

“Something’s wrong with her.”

“See,” Lizzie nods. “Told you.” Lizzie takes her sister’s arm, pulling her deeper into the stacks, out of the librarian’s line of view. “We have to do something?”

“Do what, exactly? We don’t even know what she is.”

“You’re right. Good thing we’re in a library.” Lizzie flashes her sister a grin before tapping the bookshelves. “All the research, right at our fingertips.”

Josie can’t even deny her that one, before leaning in closer. “We also have nothing to draw magic from.”

Lizzie blinks before nodding. “A minor problem. Think there might be a friendly vamp nearby?”

Josie’s mouth opens, about to tell her sister how terrible that idea sounds, before something wooden slaps against the front of the aisle. They both turn, and she sees the Jocelyn standing at the head of the aisle.

“Girls, this is a library, not a debate hall. You really should learn to be quiet.”

That last word sucks all the air from the room. Josie feels like she can’t breathe, and when she finally sucks in a gasp to scream for help, she finds that no sound escapes. Her hand comes up to grasp at her throat, when her eyes widen to look at her sister.

Lizzie looks equally stunned. Then she turns and takes off deeper into the library. Josie pursues her without thinking twice. Certainly better than standing still.

* * * * *

Josie stumbles into a section of the library, and the air feels warmer again. She lets out a gasp, before trying for sound. “Help!”

There’s a patter of quick moving feet, and suddenly there’s a woman standing in front of her, looking concerned. “Are you okay?” She places a hand on Josie’s shoulder, and in an instant, Josie knows all she needs to know. Vampire.

“Monster,” Josie gasps out. “Weird sound magic.”

“What?”

Jocelyn appears over her shoulder, and Josie turns to see the angry look on her face. “Come back, little witch. I’m not done with you yet.”

“That the monster?” the vampire asks, and Josie nods.

“Sorry, this is going to feel weird.” Josie places a hand on the vampire’s shoulder and draws some magic from them. “Ventus.” A gust of wind leaves her hand and Jocelyn blows backwards, tumbling into the cold section of the library.

“That’s cool,” the vamp smiles. “I’m Andi, by the way.”

“Josie. Nice to meet you. Have you seen—”

“I think I know what the monster is!” Lizzie appears, book in hand, a gleeful expression on her face. She glances over at Josie’s new friend and raises an eyebrow. “Who’s this?”

“This is Andi. I found a so-far friendly vampire.”

“Lizzie.” Her sister grins, an expression that leaves Josie thinking she’s totally going to wind up covered in monster guts. “Want to go monster hunting, Andi?”

Andi glances between the two of them with a grin before nodding. “Hell yeah. Let’s get our Buffy on.”

“Classic,” Lizzie nods, before turning to run after the monster. “I like it.”

“This is not how I wanted to spend our trip to the pumpkin patch.”

Landon looks over at Hope curiously, raising an eyebrow with a bit of a smirk. “Oh, so you didn’t think that our school trip to the pumpkin patch wouldn’t end in an Ichabod Crane situation? I would have thought that Headless Horsemen are pretty common this time of year.”

Hope gives her boyfriend a mild look as they make their way through the pumpkin patch hand in hand, playing the part of a teenage couple on a cute fall date. “I think the technical term is a Dullahan.”

“Whatever. I’m just saying that we should know better by now. Especially during spooky season.”

“No, it’s not spooky season.” Hope holds up a finger and shakes her head. “My entire life is spooky season. I would much rather it be pumpkin season.”

Landon laughs as he tugs her closer. “Tell you what. If we make it out of this Dullahan situation in one piece, I will make it up to you.”

She squints at him, curious but also concerned. “How will you do that?”

“We will have the most basic, saccharine, normal date that will put Insta models to shame.”

She grins, because while she wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, it’d be nice to do something normal for a change. “Guess we better find this Dullahan and show it who’s boss.”

Landon grins in return before leaning in for a peck on the lips. “Lead the way, fearless—” He’s stopped in his tracks as an ear-splitting scream sounds from the woods. “—leader.”

Hope takes a deep breath before turning and running in the sound's direction. “C’mon. As Lizzie would say, it’s hero time.”

* * * * *

The fight with the Dullahan was harder than she expected, but the headless horseman is the one to die instead of some anonymous innocent. As much as Hope regrets their interrupted date, it still feels good to be saving the world instead of dooming it, to be helping rather than hurting. She’s never going to change things so that people remember the Mikaelsons as something good rather than a terrible evil, but at least she can try to make a good impression somewhere.

Landon takes her hand as they wander back through the pumpkin patch, giving it a soft squeeze but instead of heading back towards the car where they had initially parked, he leads them towards the front of the pumpkin patch where large orange gourds glow in the setting sun.

Hope frowns, but doesn’t stop him. “Where are we going?”

Landon raises an eyebrow. “I promised you an Insta model pumpkin date, didn’t I?”

“I thought you were kidding.” Well, not kidding exactly. But not that he would follow through. Their lives are too hectic, and the date too normal to be interest to him. But he stops just before the gate and turns to face her with an amused look.

“Hope Mikaelson, I would never jest about such a thing.”

Hope gives him a bit of a look in return. “Are you sure? What happened to it being spooky season?”

“Nah.” He steps back, pulling her arm with him as he goes to head towards the entrance. “It’s pumpkin season, everyone knows that!”

The smile that crosses her face is involuntary and bright, the genuine happiness that doesn’t come easily to her, but she smiles a lot more frequently with Landon around. She takes a step with him before tipping her head to the side.

“So what exactly can we expect on this Insta model date?”

“Well, I was thinking we could pick out the best pumpkins possible, since we are already at the pumpkin patch.” He tips his head to the side. “Then, we will take our pumpkins home, with a quick stop for pumpkin spice lattes, of course.”

“Of course,” Hope nods in agreement.

“And then we will carve these bad boys. Your carving skills will absolutely put mine to shame, but that’s half the fun of it. And then we can roast pumpkin seeds and watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown to round out the theme of the evening.”

Hope can’t help but laugh, before pulling him in closer and giving him a warm kiss. “That sounds perfect.”

“Good,” Landon nods before stepping back and gesturing to the path ahead of them. “My lady, your pumpkin patch awaits.”

Hope nods as she follows with plans to be a normal girl and just enjoy her date.

This isn’t the first time Elena’s been caught in the rain with Nate, and so long as her husband insists on continuing these adventures. Usually it’s a lovely summer drizzle, so even if they’re unfortunate enough to get wet, they’re still at least warm, or it’s a cool relief from the humidity in the jungle air. Today, however, they’re not so lucky, and Elena’s finding herself wishing that they had found an umbrella, even if neither of them would have the hands to grab it.

The autumn chill tears through her as the water renders her warm layers useless, and she hunches in on herself on instinct, trying to keep as much warmth as she can. Elena inches closer to her husband, and he glances down at her, with that overly concerned expression crossing his face.

“You okay?”

She nods, not wanting to seem like she’s wimping out. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a little cold.”

“We can stop and make camp.”

“I think we’ll have a hard time finding something dry in this weather,” she comments, squinting at the path ahead. “We should keep moving.”

“Are you sure?” Nate raises an eyebrow. “Because while I will be a good husband and tend to all your sniffle-related needs, I don’t actually want you to get sick.”

“I know. I’ll be okay. The drop site for the jeep isn’t that much farther.”

“Alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Nate keeps striding forward, into the darkening skies as the water continues to come down around them. She squints up at the sky above them, trying to make out the clouds in the distance before shaking her head.

“You know, I never quite understood why people thought being caught in the rain was romantic.” She wrinkles her nose as she keeps trudging forward. “You always wind up cold, and with water running up your nose.”

Nate raises an eyebrow back at her. “Well, that’s the point of getting someone close. You get the residual warmth from them to help warm you up.”

Elena raises an eyebrow before teasing. “Spoken like someone who’s stolen their fair share of rain soaked kisses?”

Nate glances back at her with an embarrassed shrug. “Sometimes, things get… hectic. You steal them when you can get them.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m well aware how that works for you,” she teases, before tapping him on the shoulder. “You’re also tall. Which means you’re not taking the rain down the nose in this equation.”

Nate considers slowly, before tipping his head to the side. “Well, okay. There you have me.”

She laughs before tucking her arm in his. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just not the romantic moment the movies make it out to be.”

“Maybe it’s all a matter of who you’re doing it with?” Nate asks, waggling an eyebrow as the thankfully covered jeep comes into view. “I think I could give it a shot.”

“Really?” She knows she shouldn’t sound that skeptical about it, but he’s heard her complaints and knows that he has a high bar to clear.

Before she can protest further, Nate sweeps her up from her spot on the ground, sitting her on the hood of the Jeep. Nate is tall, but the hood is tall enough that she has to lean down when he pushes up to kiss her. His hands steady her, the warmth pressing in to her chilled skin and sparking a bit of life back into them. His lips are also warm against hers, and she hums as she kisses him back, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks and keep him close.

Nate holds it for as long as he can, before he eventually has to rock back on his heels and smile up at her. “Better?”

“Yeah,” she grins. “That was pretty damn good.”

“Good,” he smirks, clearly pleased with himself at the kiss. Then he pulls back and snorts. “I see what you mean about the rain up the nose though.”

She laughs, placing her hands on his shoulders so she could slide off the roof. “Think we can get in the Jeep and turn up the heat now?”

“Please,” Nate nods, fishing out the keys and opening the doors. “Let’s get out of here and go home.”

As she slides into the passenger’s seat and turns up the heat, Nate’s hand finds hers after putting the Jeep into gear. She smiles and as the rain soaked woods fade away, she can’t help but feel that Nate is still the best place that’s ever felt like home.

Edited 2021-12-30 20:19 (UTC)

Lizzie Saltzman wants to know why she is so unlucky in love. She wants to know who in the grand scheme of the world she pissed off that just when she thinks that luck may be turning; she finds herself profoundly disappointed and heartbroken all over again.

It’s her. It has to be her. She’s dated wide varieties of men, of different types and distinct personalities, and in the end, it all ends the same. The boy wandering or dying or claiming he’s no longer interested. Or, with Gregory, the latest in her long line of romantic mistakes, just a piece of garbage.

Her phone dings on her bedside table, and she groans, pulling her blankets up over her head. She’s been back in Mystic Falls for all of a day. She should have known that Josie and Hope, also returning from their colleges of choice, would have already designated bestie adventures for them to partake in, as well as their regular Christmas rituals before Hope makes her way back to New Orleans to spend the holiday with her family. Lizzie knows their window is limited, but she’s not quite ready to face her best friend or sister yet. Not until she’s gotten her broken-hearted malaise under control and can be her usual, semi-confident self. She’s just not sure if she can manage it on Hope and Josie’s time table.

Her phone dings again and she huffs, before reaching over to read the text messages: Bonfire season? followed by a couple of fire emojis rests under Hope’s name, with Josie sending back a gif indicating the affirmative. All that’s left is Lizzie to confirm whether she’s coming.

She contemplates ignoring it a little while longer, but before she can dwell on it too much, an Instagram notification comes up from his account. She knows she shouldn’t. She knows it’s nothing but bad news and nothing Gregory’s posted this soon after their breakup can be good, but she looks anyway. If nothing else, Lizzie is a glutton for punishment.

Obviously, she dated him.

As she opens up her feed, she sees an artfully posed picture of him and another girl under the mistletoe—he wants to be an influencer, gag—and she fights the urge to throw her phone against the wall. If he weren’t several states away, she’d burn him to the ground. Unfortunately, right now, all she has available is his varsity hoodie that she spent the entire drive home crying into while blasting her breakup playlist.

Then a realization dawns. She grins and starts gathering everything she can from the room. It’s not much of his stuff, but it’s enough. After she finished gathering it into a box, she texts back the group chat. On my way.

Time for some closure.

* * * * *

When she emerges in the backyard of the Salvatore School, where Josie and Hope had set up their principal-approved bonfire for their little ritual, both girls raise their eyebrows at the box in Lizzie’s hands. Hope tips her head to the side before raising an eyebrow.

“Have a lot of wishes this year?”

The bonfire tradition is one that Hope’s father’s family has had for centuries. Every year, they come together for Christmas and each burn their wishes for the new year, hoping they might come true. It’s one of the few traditions that have stuck for a thousand years, and Lizzie knows it’s one of Hope’s favorites. The three of them now have a bonfire of their own, where they can burn away the regrets and unfortunate ways the supernatural world has collided with their friendship over the year, and start fresh in the one to come.

Lizzie is also in need of a different fresh start. “Not exactly. This is Gregory’s stuff.”

Hope glances back at Josie, confused. Josie sighs. “He broke up with her.”

“Not only did he break up with me. He dumped me at my car, as I was kissing him goodbye for winter break. I wished him a Merry Christmas and left him his present, and he dumps me. Because he doesn’t think I’m ‘star quality’ material.” Lizzie holds up a finger. “And then, less than twenty-four hours after smashing my heart into a million pieces, he posts this.”

She passes her phone to the other two, of the girl and the mistletoe, and both of their shoulders straighten. “Do you want us to kill him?” Hope asks, and Lizzie can’t tell if she’s serious or not. (She might, if Lizzie really wanted her to.) “Because we can totally kill him.”

Josie nods. “I made some friends in social media and computer science majors. We could completely torpedo his account.”

“Lovely as both options are, I have a simpler solution.” She holds up the box. “This is the stuff he left with me, and I’m feeling like trying my hand at this social media thing.”

Hope smirks before stepping back and gesturing to the fire pit with her hand. “By all means. This is all about cleansing us of our past mistakes, right?”

Josie nods as well, setting the fire with a wave of her hand, and the flames spring to life. Lizzie pulls out the hoodie to start and tosses it into the fire. Time to let the healing begin.

* * * * *

Later, after they’ve completed their ritual, Lizzie posts an artfully arranged picture of the bonfire, with a charred piece of the hoodie clearly visible. The caption reads: Starting fresh for a happy new year.

She can’t wait to see how many likes she gets.

Edited 2021-12-30 20:32 (UTC)

Stiles checks the time before doing one last spin around the apartment. According to Cora’s last update, she would get into town in roughly twenty minutes and he wanted everything to be perfect. Their romantic weekends together have been few since he moved to DC. They knew what they were getting into—he was still in FBI training, and she was helping Scott with his plans to track down Monroe—but he still misses her. Which is why everything needed to go off without a hitch.

There’s plenty of food in the fridge. The bedroom is clean of questionable odors. He even went so far as to Febreeze the whole place with something light that wouldn’t irritate her delicate werewolf senses. That his apartment is in such a state of cleanliness would probably stun most, but he doesn’t care.

The only thing that matters is he and Cora having an entire weekend to themselves where they don’t have to leave the apartment or deal with other people, just as she requested. He does one last pass around the place to make sure everything is ready when there’s a knock on the door. He takes a deep breath, checks to make sure he still smells good, before turning and opening the door with a grin.

“Well, hello—Scott?”

“Hey, man!” Scott grins as he pushes through, leaning in for a bro hug. Stiles is happy to give it to him, because it’s been a long time since he’s seen Scott as well, but it’s not the person he was looking to be hugging.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as awkward as it sounds in his head.

“Oh, not much. Just got into town on a Monroe thing, so I thought I’d pop by and surprise my best friend.” Scott grins as he claps a hand on his shoulder before turning and heading further into the apartment. “You on-call this weekend?”

“Uh—no, not really.” Stiles ducks his head out the door, glancing both ways to make sure Cora wasn’t right behind him, before closing the door. “But I sorta had plans.”

“Oh, sorry, man, I should have called.” Yes, Scott. Yes, you should have. “Any way I can tag along?” Scott pauses as he notices the bottle of Febreeze sitting on the living room coffee table and he picks it up with a frown.

Stiles dashes forward to take it out of his hands. “Actually, I was using that. Freshening the place up, you know?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott’s eyebrows rise in suspicion before he looks around the room at how neat everything is. Then at his best friend. Then he turns and leaves the living room to poke around the rest of the apartment.

“Scott? Where are you going?”

“Your entire apartment is clean.” Scott glances back over his shoulder as he pulls open the door. “And there’s a full weekend’s supply of food in the fridge.”

“What?” Stiles shrugs. “I’m a responsible adult now.”

Scott gives him a look. “Chocolate covered strawberries?”

“I’m expanding my tastes!”

“The exact flavor of jerky that Cora likes?” Scott pushes up and closes the fridge door. “Dude, why didn’t you just tell me you guys had planned a weekend together?”

Stiles shrugs. “She was going to drop in while she was in town. I wanted to be prepared.”

“I know you guys are dating.”

Stiles straightens, then he squints. “How do you know we’re dating? I didn’t tell you we were dating.”

“I’m a werewolf, dude. My nose works, and while Cora is careful enough to be discreet, you aren’t always.”

Stiles’ cheeks turn red, before he rubs the back of his neck. “How long have you known?”

“A while.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured you would tell me when you were ready to tell me.”

“Does Derek know?”

“Well, you’re still here, so… I don’t think so?” Scott shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Maybe he’s just really evolved about it.”

Stiles shakes his head because no. He’s pretty sure that if Derek knew the kinds of things Stiles did to his sister, Stiles would not still be breathing. So he’ll just hope that the sour wolf remains oblivious. “Maybe,” he responds half-heartedly.

“I think the bigger question is, why didn’t you tell me?”

Stiles shrugs. “I’m still not sure where this is going. I mean, whenever she’s in town, things happen, but we haven’t actually talked about what we want or where it’s going.”

“Hales aren’t very good at that.”

“No, they’re not. And she always has to bounce out quick when a new Monroe lead comes up, so we never really had the time to talk. But this weekend, we have the entire weekend and… I want to have that conversation.”

“So you’re putting your best foot forward.”

“I’m doing my best,” he nods, before looking up at Scott. “So no offense, because I love you and would totally hang if it were any other weekend but—”

“No, I get it. I’ll go.” A knock sounds at the door, and Scott steps back. “I’ll sneak out the fire escape?”

“You’re the best, buddy.”

Scott goes to do as asked, and Stiles approaches the door with another deep breath. “You better be Cora, or this is just not my night.” He pulls it open and sees his favorite girl on the other side, and flashes her a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she grins, before her nose tips, confused. “Scott here?”

“Just left. It’s just you and me.”

She grins in return before taking his hand as he pulls her inside. “Good. Just how I like it.”

Edited 2021-12-30 20:35 (UTC)

The bullpen is dark, with an echoing silence to it that indicates Lois has stayed far past when she should, by any standard. Most journalists pull late hours, wanting to get their stories finalized for the next edition, but occasionally Lois puts these tendencies to shame, staying and working until the last of the procrastinators have exited the premises, and the janitors have worked around her in the echoing darkness.

She should be home, on her couch, with a glass of wine and a very greasy pizza, but she’s sitting at her desk at the Daily Planet, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen and trying to figure out where to start. She knows she can’t leave until the story has left her fingers and flowed onto the page, but she’s finding herself at a loss for where to start.

Absently, outside of her single-minded focus, she thinks she hears a whoosh of air rush past her window—a common place thing between planes and Superman flying overhead, so she doesn’t even look. A few minutes later, however, she looks up at the ding of the elevator, surprised to see Clark Kent striding through the bullpen, a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack in the other. It smells like heaven, and she doesn’t know how he knew, but her stomach rumbles in appreciation.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“I saw the lights on. Thought you might be hungry.” Part of the statement nags at her (how could he have seen her lights from the ground floor?), but not enough for her to pick a fight with him about it. Clark Kent is full of those little plausible lines, things worded carefully so someone can easily misconstrue them. One day she’ll catch him and figure out his secret, but until that day comes, he’s too sweet for her to keep away from.

As big as the question marks are, the core of him is good. And who doesn’t want that kind of farm boy charm in their life?

“And what if I told you I already ate?”

He smiles at her, a knowing smile like he’s already cracked her and spilled all her secrets. “That seems unlikely. Usually when you’re dealing with a story you can’t crack, you ignore everything else.”

Her eyes narrow. “It’s getting irritating, Smallville, how good you are at reading people.” She will reach for the box, however, clearing a space in her cubicle for them to eat. Clark steps back, grabbing one of the abandoned desk chairs and dragging it closer.

“Maybe I just like being able to read one specific person.”

A smile stretches across her face, teasing at the corners before she tries to smother it. That’s not the farm boy charm she wants, but it might be the kind she needs. “Well, that’s rather inconvenient.”

“Is it?”

“I pride myself on being an enigma. If you go around telling all my secrets, people will figure out how boringly predictable I am.”

He grins widely before flipping open the pizza box. “I promise, all of your secrets are safe with me. I’ll only use them for good.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She reaches for a slice as she leans back in the chair. She can feel Clark watching her as her eyes wander back to the empty page again.

“Having trouble with the Sandberg story?”

“Have you ever had to write a story where… everything sucks?” Lois sighs as she turns to face him. “The quote-unquote ‘victim’ is a terrible person, the bad guy isn’t really bad at all, just a desperate person in a desperate situation, and your job is to relay the facts. And how you relay those facts is going to paint these people with a brush that is going to follow them possibly for the rest of their lives.”

“And you don’t want to make Amy Sandberg seem like the villain.”

“No, I don’t. The conservative sphere is going to do enough of that.” She turns back to Clark. “But I can’t be too sympathetic to her either, because she did a terrible thing. How do you balance that?”

“I don’t think you can,” Clark says softly, before setting down his beer as he leans back to look at her. “No matter how hard you try to control what people think, they’re always going to bring their own biases and experiences to the table. All you can do is give them the facts, and do it as kindly as you can.”

“Well, Roland Whitfield does not deserve kindness.”

“No, probably not. But the only way you’re going to change minds is if you’re fair to them both.”

Lois shakes her head because some people don’t deserve to have people like Lois be fair to them. Fairness is something the world has already given them in spades. Clark reaches over and squeezes her arm gently.

“You’ll get it right. I know you will.”

She glances over at him with a smile before nodding. “Thanks, Clark.”

“Anytime.” He then nods. “Take a break with me, eat some pizza, and then come back to it.”

“I think I can manage that,” she nods, before reaching for another slice and grabbing one of the beers. She could take a brief break. But once that’s done, it’s back to being Lois Lane, star reporter.

And not think about how much she’s enjoying Clark’s company. That’s a crisis for another deadline.

Edited 2021-12-30 20:39 (UTC)

First thing Derek smells is the burst of blood. Metallic and tangy, it hangs in the air until he can taste it on the back of his tongue. He figures out it’s Braedan’s a second later, and his head snaps to that portion of the battle. A splatter of gunfire comes soon after, followed by a soft swear.

“Shit.”

Derek, Braedan and Argent got called in on some weird supernatural occurrences in a town nearby. Expecting nothing, they had split up, attempting to cover more ground, but they hadn’t expected omega to come charging out of the woods, claws out and ready to strike before they even engaged them.

“Braedan?”

Derek darts around the corner to find her and Argent standing over the body, guns out and the omega dead on the ground. Derek rushes to her side, seeing the warm wet blood spreading across her stomach and placing his larger hand over hers, as though that will stay the bleeding somehow. He looks at Chris, and the older man nods, holstering his weapons as he does.

“I have a first aid kit in the car. Let’s get a better look at it before we see if we need a hospital.

“Always be prepared.” Derek scoops her off the ground and he hears the whine of protest, intended to cover what would have been a whine of pain.

“I can walk,” Braedan protests, though relaxing as he pulls some of the pain.

“I’m faster,” he replies, before following Argent back to the SUV. She doesn’t protest after that.

They stretch her out in the back, and Derek watches as Chris peels back the shirt to examine it. “Might need stitches. Let me get it cleaned up first.”

“Hospital?”

“We have to see how deep it goes first.”

Braedan winces, before reaching for Derek’s hand and squeezing tightly as Argent cleans the wounds, clearing the blood, letting him get a better look. She winces in response to each twinge, and when Derek pulls her pain again, she relaxes.

“For the record, this—” She holds up their hands. “—is not because I’m worried. It’s because you’re a walking morphine drip.”

Derek can’t help the half-smirk. “I would never accuse you of being scared of anything,” he teases.

“Good. Then we understand each other.”

Derek falls silent, letting the worried expression remain clear on his face when he sees how deep the slash marks go. “What happened?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Braedan admits, turning to face him and not look at the bloody mess she’s in. “There was something… off about him. Something in the eyes. There was no warning. He just lunged. Like he was…”

“Rabid?” Argent fills in the blank, raising an eyebrow at the both of them.

“Yeah,” Braedan nods. “Maybe. Is there a strain of rabies that affects werewolves? I would think that your healing factor would compensate.”

Derek shrugs. “I’ve never heard of it. But I’ve never wanted to test the theory, either.”

“Fair enough,” Braedan sighs as she looks down at the claw marks Argent is covering up. “Maybe I should get a booster, just to be safe.”

“I would agree with that,” Argent nods, before turning to Derek. “Take her to the hospital. I’ll get rid of the body. See what else I can find out.”

“Are you sure you want to handle that on your own?”

“If he is Patient Zero for something transmittable to werewolves, I don’t want you to become Patient One. Take her to the hospital, and I’ll come and get a booster when I’m finished.”

Derek nods, before helping Braedan out of the back and into the front seat. They have a long drive to the hospital ahead of them.

* * * * *

A couple hours later, Argent arrives at the hospital, finding Derek in the waiting room and moving to sit next to him. He’s pulling his leather jacket back on over his now bandaged shoulder, showing that he already got his booster.

“They took her back for stitched and the booster,” Derek explains. “She should be fine. Did you find anything?”

Argent shakes his head. “I took some blood and tissue samples to pass to Deaton, but so far, nothing. And I asked around a bit in town, and no one seemed to know who he was.”

“So a random omega, acting rabid, was just wandering around outside this town and no one noticed anything?”

Argent smirks. “You never know how dedicated people are to maintaining their normal lives.”

Derek snorts. “Point.” Then he sighs. “So what’s next?”

“We keep an eye out for similar cases and hope that somewhere along the way we find an answer.”

“Sounds good to me.” The two men look up as Braedan makes her way out, pulling her shirt down over the bandages, even though she’s still bloodstained. “But until then, what do you say to a post hunt burger and a fresh change of clothes?”

Derek glances to Argent, and Argent nods with a smirk. “That sounds good to me.”

Edited 2021-12-30 20:41 (UTC)

Julian unlocks the door and hears the unmistakable shuffle of bodies on the other side.

He can’t help but tense, given how he lives alone, and isn’t expecting any visitors. As much as he tries to lie low, stay off of the general supernatural radar, that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t catch someone’s notice, occasionally. He draws whatever magic he can, ready to get the drop on this intruder, before bursting through the other side.

And what he finds is his baby sister, sprawled over another man, clearly doing very dirty things on his couch that he does not want to think about.

“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, covering his eyes and turning around. “Seriously, Kieran?”

“Don’t know what to tell you, mate,” the male voice interrupts, as more shuffling happens behind him, and parts of his sister return to brother-appropriate places where he won’t see them—or at least he hopes. “If you don’t want to see things you don’t want to see, you probably shouldn’t walk into other people’s apartments without warning.”

Before Julian can protest, Kieran intervenes. “Actually, this is technically his apartment.”

“Thank you.” He glances back tentatively, just to make sure everyone is decent, before turning around. “The least you could have done was make it all the way to the guest room. Now I’ll have scarring memories every time I look at this couch.”

“Sorry, Jules.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just please move there—” As he takes a much longer look at his sister’s partner for the evening, he frowns. “—Do I know you?”

“Can’t say we’ve met,” he says, far too casually for Julian’s taste. “Guess I just have one of those faces.”

Kieran rolls her eyes. “This is Kol. Kol, this is my brother, Julian.”

“Pleasure,” he grins, stretching out a hand to him, and Julian doesn’t have to take it to know what he would find on the other side. Putting the name to the face only cements it, and he turns a concerned look on his sister as he holds up his hands.

“No offense,” Julian smiles. “Germaphobe.”

“Fair enough.” Kol glances to Kieran. “Guest room?”

She turns and points, and he gets up to leave. Kieran goes to follow, and Julian reaches for her, bracing an arm across her middle as he waits until the door is closed. He’s pissed. He’s beyond pissed.

“You invited an Original vampire into my home?”

“No.” Kieran tips her head to the side. “I invited my friend and business partner into your home.”

“You didn’t think to fucking ask?”

“He’s not going to do anything, Jules!”

“You don’t know that!” He swears, before taking a step back. “What are you even working with him on, anyway? Because whatever he pitched you, it can’t be good.”

“He didn’t pitch me, I pitched him.”

Julian pinches his eyes closed before straightening. “People who make deals with people like them don’t get happy endings.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have one anyway,” she snaps back, and he immediately falls silent. He knows it’s a sensitive subject, how little time she actually has. Ever since they found the genetic marker for the disease that killed her father floating around her bloodstream, she’s been growing more and more reckless, desperate for an answer that would extend her life.

Julian exhales slowly, trying to reason with her. “Kiki—”

“Don’t.” She shakes her head, waving a hand. “Just know that we’re on the same team. I trust him.”

“Trusting him with what?” He tips his head to the side. “Are you trying to get him to turn you?”

Kieran doesn’t respond, which is as good as a yes. Julian steps away, trying to wrap his head around that possibility.

“Why?”

“Because I want to live long enough to have a life without my body falling apart on me!” She grits her teeth. “And I don’t care if it comes with drinking blood or any of that. I can handle that. I just want to live.”

“But you love magic.” And magic and vampirism don’t go hand in hand. They never have, expect in rare instances, and Kieran isn’t one of those witches.

“Hence, my partner,” she says. “He wants the ability to do magic just as much as I do, if not more. So we’re helping each other.”

“Kieran—”

“I can do this, Jules. And if I can’t, by the time my body fails, I’ll have him turn me and I’ll keep working on it. But either way, this is happening.” Kieran turns and looks at him, eyes soft and pleading. The little sister look he’s always been a sucker for. “Are you with me?”

He wants to say no. That it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard. But he can’t bear to break her heart any more than it already has been, so he sighs, before reaching forward to take her hands.

“I have to think about it, okay?” He squeezes her hands. “Becoming a vampire isn’t a happy ending either.”

She squeezes his hands back before shrugging. “Happily ever after isn’t real. I’ll take whatever will get me closest.”

He steps forward, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Just be careful, okay? If you sense him getting ready to stab you in the back, you call, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Also, I’m changing my lease after he leaves.”

She snorts. “I’m sure he won’t take it personally.”

“Good.” He looks back at her. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” There’s no way she can answer that won’t be a lie, but he wants to ask all the same.

She nods with a smile before turning and heading back to her friend. “Don’t worry, big brother. I’ve got this.”

He really wishes he could believe her.

Edited 2021-12-30 20:43 (UTC)

Elena wanders through the quiet halls of the hospital as she heads back to the locker room, inching her way closer and closer to the end of her shift. While her brief stint as both vampire bait and a vampire have made the night shifts a little more bearable than most likely find it, it’s still wearing, and she can’t wait to indulge in a big stack of pancakes from the local diner on the way back to her Cincinnati apartment.

Being somewhere other than Mystic Falls has been both a relief and a loss, missing the familiarity of being surrounded by friends, while reveling in the anonymity. She’s doing good work as a doctor, and hopefully she will continue to do so, just as Elena Gilbert—no more, no less. She hopes, every day, that her doppelganger days are behind her.

She’s almost to the pharmacy when static crackles above her: “Doctor Gilbert, please report to the ER. Doctor Gilbert, please report to the ER.”

“So close, yet so far,” she mutters as she turns to head back towards the busiest area of the hospital. As she weaves through the people, she arrives at the nurse’s station with a questioning glance. “You paged Doctor Gilbert?”

The charge nurse looks up at her, then blinks, like she’s seeing a ghost. Something knowing crosses her face, and she passes the chart over to her. “She asked for you specifically.”

Elena frowns, confused, before taking the chart and looking it over. “Any reason?”

“I think you’ll be able to figure it out.”

Elena blinks, before turning and heading towards the bed in question as she reviews their chart. Nothing there seems out of the ordinary or in line with her specialty, but she can at least do her job. She reaches up to draw back the curtain as she comes around the corner. “Hi, I’m Doctor Gilbert. How can I help you tonight?”

“You cut your hair. Why would you do that?”

Elena’s head snaps up at the familiar voice, not all that different from her own, just with a more husky quality to it. After that, it’s almost like she’s looking in the mirror. Matching straight brown hair, brown eyes, curvy figure. Were it not for the bob cut Elena had recently treated herself too, they could have been perfectly identical.

“Katherine.”

“Elena.” Katherine smiles as she brushes her hair over one shoulder. Elena rolls her eyes as she closes the curtain behind them, not wanting any of her coworkers to witness this. “You know, there are other cities you could have picked to play doctor in that are a lot more fun than Cincinnati.”

“Those other cities don’t have one of the best internists in the country to learn from. What are you doing here?”

“Well, believe it or not, I’m here to help you.” Katherine reaches out and taps the chart with her finger. “We have a minor problem.”

“Define problem.”

“Hunters.” Katherine fishes out her phone and passes it to her descendant. On the screen is a list of names with what she can only assume are dollar amounts next to them. “They’ve turned dealing with the supernatural into a cash rich enterprise, and there are bounties—on both of our heads.”

“And you just happened to be in Cincinnati when this came to light?”

“Of course not. But I didn’t want to get caught in the crosshairs, so why not put myself in a situation where there’s a fifty-fifty chance that they actually hit me.” She flashes Elena a smile, and Elena rolls her eyes.

“Never change, Katherine.” And with that, she turns to leave. Katherine tries to call after her, but Elena doesn’t want to hear it. Deadpool or not, she will not let Katherine use her as cannon fodder for one of her schemes. She signs off on release and drops off the chart, fully intending to head home as she ventures back into the quieter areas of the hospital.

She’s about to get on the elevator when someone reaches out and grabs her arm.

“There you are, Kitty-Kat.” She looks up to find an unfamiliar face, then he frowns as he judges her expression. “Wait, you’re not…” Realization comes a moment later, and his grip tightens. “Gilbert.”

“Let go of me.”

“Not likely. You’re my next payday.”

The elevator opens, and he throws her inside, Elena colliding against the wall and dropping to the floor, pain rippling through her. She flails out, trying to hit something vital, but he’s bigger and stronger than she is, and she doesn’t have the vampire strength that she used to as a cured human. He reaches for her, trying to restrain her, but before the doors could close, something flashes over his head.

CLANG.

As the hunter drops to the ground next to her, unconscious, Elena looks up to see Katherine standing behind him, an annoyed look on her face.

“Believe me now?”

Elena nods as she takes the hand up to her feet. “What do we do now?”

“We stick together,” Katherine sighs, before climbing in the elevator and hitting the button for the parking lot. “And get the hell out of here.”

It’s not the most ideal scenario, but if there’s anything she knows about Katherine Pierce, it’s that she’s a survivor. She just hopes that those survival skills will extend to Elena, too.

Edited 2021-12-30 20:44 (UTC)

“Listen, can you hear it?”

It’s a dumb question to ask a werewolf and Stiles knows it, but he asks it anyway, usually because he wants to draw Cora’s attention to something important. Almost as though he understands the overstimulation of too much from hyperactive senses, and how you need to focus when you need to find the right thing.

So she pauses, head tipping to the side as she tries to fine tune the overabundance of sounds, from the skittering of creatures in the woods to the steady heartbeat and breathing of the man next to her. “What am I—”

Before she can even get the question out, she hears it. Not just one heartbeat, but two. A loud and ominous thud-thud, thud-thud ripples through the ground, to where it feels like the sound is more in her head than it is in the world around her. A psychic call, more than an audible one. It would explain why Stiles could hear it too.

“Deaton said the curse is its own entity, right? That when a curse is this ancient, they can become more of a physical presence in the world?”

“Yeah,” Cora nods. “He thought it might be the most vulnerable part and if we destroy the body, we break the curse.”

“Would it be too literal for it to be an actual heart?”

Cora shrugs, considering, before following the steady thrum of the sound. It’s getting under her skin a little, an itch she can’t quite place, and she knows it wants her to go to it. And given that they’re looking for a curse that drives people insane by bringing out their inner demons, that’s not necessarily a good thing.

“We shouldn’t find it.”

“Cora, this’ll be easy. We find it; we kill it; we all go home for curly fries.” Cora shakes her head again, and he steps to the side, coming in front of her so that his concerned look is filling her vision. “It’s calling you, isn’t it?”

She nods slowly, rolling her shoulders to get rid of the spindly fingers encroaching on her mind. “We shouldn’t go there alone.”

“What does it want?”

“To not be alone.”

Maybe it’s not the same for everyone. Maybe it changes based on what the person may want or need. But the whispers in her mind are offering her a warm welcome, a steady embrace. The promise that she would never be left alone again. She remembers that yearning feeling she felt for years, missing her family, missing her pack, bouncing from pack to pack that would take her and feeling like she could never feel whole again.

She could never feel that way again. All she has to do is come. It wants her, after all.

“But you’re not alone anymore. You have Derek, Malia and Peter. You have a pack.”

“You have to be wanted around to have a pack.”

“We want you around.”

“Do you?” She arches an eyebrow curiously at that, because that’s not the impression she gets. Boyd wanted her. Derek and Peter do too. But the rest? That’s more up in the air.

Stiles shakes his head, taking her by the shoulders and forcing her to look up at him. “I want you around.”

Her eyes flicker up at him, and she tries not to look as pathetic as she feels. But as much as it’s a buoy in her favor, she doesn’t trust herself to move any closer. “Then don’t let me go there.” She knows what it feels like to lose control all too well. She doesn’t want it to happen again.

Stiles watches her, and his face softens, before nodding. “I’ll call Scott and Malia.” He leads them back to a large rock in the preserve's section and sits her down. “And we won’t move until it’s done.”

Cora nods as she sits, and once he settles next to her, she snakes her hand around his arm to take his hand. “Thank you.”

He squeezes her hand in response, and together, they settle in to wait.

* * * * * *

It takes an hour for the rest of the pack to track it down and end the living curse once and for all. She can tell the moment it happens—the spindle fingers attempting to draw her closer suddenly disappear and the thudding in her ears stops. She releases her hands as the tension leaves her, and she doesn’t miss the coppery burst of blood that comes from where her claws are digging into her palm.

Stiles' phone dings a moment later, and he confirms what she already knows. “It’s done. Let’s get out of here.”

Cora nods, slowly standing on shaky legs. Stiles walks them back towards the Jeep but before he can go too far, she stops, tugging on his hand to pull him back towards her.

“Thank you, Stiles. For listening to me.”

“Of course,” he nods, pulling her closer and letting one hand rest on her hip. “But I was serious, you know.”

“About what?”

“Wanting you around.” Stiles thumb brushes against her, as she’s forced to look up at him again, given how close they are. “Things are better when you’re around.”

Cora squints at him. “I’m threatening you with violence regularly.”

“Yeah, but you don’t mean it.” A beat. “Well, at least ninety percent of the time you don’t mean it.” She snorts, and he grins. “And maybe it says something about how screwed up I am, but I don’t think you’re terrible company, Cora Hale. And you’re not expendable. Not to me.”

Cora looks up at him before pushing up on her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, just slightly, but she doesn’t push things further. Instead, she steps back and continues to head towards the Jeep.

“C’mon. Curly fries on me.”

Edited 2021-12-30 20:47 (UTC)

“Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh?”

Mia’s voice is a mix of irritation and worry—the kind of concern she inherited from their father. She’s so much like Oliver, it amazes William that he wound up like Felicity when he isn’t even her biological child. A concern he can mull over another time, when some outside force isn’t trying to hack into the Arrowcave.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just focus on shooting arrows into the bad guys.”

“Overwatch?”

“I’m fine. Just someone is trying to get past my firewall.” His fingers fly over the keyboard, rapidly inputting lines of code to try and stay ahead of them. “I’m going to politely force them back behind it and send them on their way.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Just focus on what you’re doing.” He doesn’t give her a chance to argue, just pulls out his earpiece so that he can keep his focus. He continues typing, but somehow, some way they keep managing to stay a step ahead. Each block, they dance around, each shove back they never seem to lose any ground. Making a face, he tries to avoid the nuclear option, but soon it’s getting close to the edge and suddenly everything around him goes dark.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Seconds later the auxiliary power comes back on, and with that comes the elevator. It revs to life, traveling up to the first floor of what used to be Queen Consolidated, and he frowns. In terms of the chances of friend versus foe, he’s more likely to lean towards foe at the moment, but he won’t be able to say for sure until they arrive. So, he does the next best thing he can do.

He hides.

Closing one of the nearby closets behind him, he watches the intruders through the slats in the door. The elevator opens and from it emerges a young man and woman—the woman looks to be about his age, and the man about Mia’s. They’re similar shades of dark hair and tanned skin, with similar faces—siblings maybe? He’s trying to catch all the details, but he keeps coming back to two things—the large, almost ostentatious red jewel around the man’s neck, and the cobbled together tech equipment in the woman’s hand.

“Be careful, B. I’m pretty sure there’s someone still down here.”

“No one’s been down here in years. And even if they were, Team Arrow hasn’t exactly been known as being anti-ARGUS.”

Rude, William thinks, but he can’t say it’s wrong. Given Diggle’s ties to ARGUS, he can’t say that they weren’t allies. The same can’t be said for the ARGUS of 2042, but that’s something to sort out later.

“That doesn’t mean we should be inviting trouble.” The woman shakes her head as she goes to sit in his chair, but raises almost immediately after. “The seat’s warm.”

The man does tense at that, fingers coming up to brush against the red jewel hanging around his neck. He glows vibrantly and if William didn’t know better, he would almost assume that the wind picked up in this underground bunker.

“Whoever you are, we won’t hurt you if you don’t try to hurt us.” The woman flashes him a look and “B” rolls his eyes. “They might just be using the bunker to hide. We’re not here to fight anyone, we’re just here for answers.”

William’s eyes study him briefly, the countenance of his face. He’s seen it somewhere before. Pulling up his tablet, he runs a quick facial recognition search, trying to pin down who this person is. The woman at the computer picks up on it, however, and she tenses.

“Someone’s running facial recognition.”

“Let them.”

“Behrad, we don’t know who this person is.”

“They’re trying to figure out if they can trust me. And you can stop it before it goes anywhere else.”

William finds that he isn’t wrong there. Almost as soon as he says it, William finds himself limited in his ability to send out information. Any communication channels that involve law enforcement are shut down, but the information he’s looking for comes all the same. Behrad Tomaz and his sister, Zari. Wanted by ARGUS for a number of dumb, bullshit crimes that shouldn't be crimes, but that's 2042 for you.

William doesn't want to make an enemy out of them. He probably should just let them take what they want and leave. But at the end of the day, he wants to help. He always has.

Stepping out of the closet, he raises his hands in the air next to his head, and glances to them both. "Don't shoot. I come in peace."

They both look anxious and unsure, not sure what to do with his presence, so he continues. "My name is William Clayton. This was my father's bunker, and now it's mine and my sister's. I know my father had a relationship with ARGUS, but that's not us. We don't support what they're doing now."

The Tomaz siblings look at each other anxiously, unsure what to make of the statement, but they don't shoot him with their weird wind magic, so at least that's a start.

"I just want to help you. Not turn you in, I promise."

"I believe him," Behrad eventually says, lowering his hand and extingushing his magic.

"Behrad!"

"He's got a trustworthy face." The hardened freedom fighter veneer cracks with an easygoing smile. "Besides, you said he was giving you a run for your money."

"I did not."

"I definitely did not," William contributed. "It's been a while since I've gotten my ass beat that thoroughly. I'd like to learn from the master." See? He's still got some charm, even if she's not the usual person he likes to charm.

Zari scowls in response, but gives up, knowing she's outnumbered. "Fine. But that doesn't mean I trust you."

William smirks, before moving over to the computer to try and help. "I would expect nothing less."

Edited 2021-12-30 20:48 (UTC)

It’s always awkward when one of your fellow students walks in on you having an impromptu Celine Dion belt session when you’re supposed to be working on an upcoming lab. Greg’s eyes blink at her in surprise from behind his cute glasses and Kerry startles, lowering the (clean) beaker that she had been using as a microphone and sets it down on the counter while “The Power of Love” blasts from the laptop behind her. She clears her throat awkwardly before throwing out finger guns, because that’ll make things better.

“Greg. Didn’t see you there.”

“Hey, Kerr.” He at least seems amused. That’s probably a point in her favor, right? “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just… trying to come up with a proposal for my thesis that doesn’t make me look like an idiot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She pauses. “Except that wasn’t working, so I put on some Celine Dion and pretend that I am talented enough to do something much less big brained for my career.”

Greg laughs. “While I don’t want to say you don’t have star quality—”

“Oh, don’t worry. Celine is only for empty audiences or when I’ve gotten super drunk at karaoke.”

“Fair enough.” He makes his way closer, leaning back against the front of her lab table. “What’s tripping you up about your thesis?”

Kerry shrugs, running a hand through her red hair with a sigh. “I don’t know. It feels like there are so many options and not enough criteria to narrow them down based on what’s doable in the time allotted.”

“So your brain’s in overload and therefore it’s easier to just live your nineties diva dreams?”

Kerry’s head ducks as she rubs the back of her neck. “It’s like you get me. It’s just so hard to visualize where any of these ideas are going.”

Suddenly, his face lights up with something that almost might be devious if it were on anyone other than Greg’s face. It’s kind of hard to consider Greg devious when he’s just so cute and endearing (and hell, if Kerry knows why, that’s actually a turn on). She almost doesn’t want to ask, but thankfully Greg volunteers the information for her.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That I’m a failure as a scientist and I should change my major to interpretive dance?”

“No. This calls for a brainstorming session. Proposals are due Tuesday, and you’ll need time to research, which means you need to settle on an idea tonight.” He glances down at his watch. “Okay. You order the pizza, I’ll go get the whiteboard.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He grins at her as he goes to duck out the door. “It’s gonna be great.”

Kerry watches him disappear into the darkness of the empty school and briefly wonders what she’s just gotten herself into.

* * * * *

A couple hours later, they’ve plowed through one and a half pizzas and have a white board list full of pros, cons and challenges for each of the ideas that have popped into her head over trying to plan for this thesis. Greg is scanning over each of the items, making sure they’ve covered all of them, before circling a line in the middle with red marker.

“This one.”

Kerry frowns, before pushing up and going to get a better look. “Really?”

He nods. “It’s simple enough to see whether your hypothesis holds weight within the allotted time for your thesis, but is complex and interesting enough that it could be argued at a collegiate level.” He glances back over at her curiously. “And it’s actually pretty cool. I’m kind of curious about what will come out of it myself.”

Kerry lets out an exhale of relief, shifting to rest her head against his shoulder almost unconsciously. It’s just because he’s tall and she’s tired. Or at least that’s what she’s telling herself. “At least one of us has faith in me,” she smirks. “But thank you for helping me with this. I felt like my head was going to explode.”

“Anytime,” he smiles, not making any move to disturb her. “I’m just glad I could help.”

She glances up at him, meeting his eyes from behind the glint of his glasses, and she can’t help but feel herself flush as she pushes into a sitting position. Too much, probably. Just a smidge. “I’ll, uh. I’ll get started on this when I get back to my dorm.”

Greg nods, sensing the awkwardness as he stands, and rubs a hand against the back of his neck. “I can read it over for you before you turn it in. If you want.”

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that.”

“And if you wanted to do a… non-science thing sometime…”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why does it have to be non-science?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be completely void of science. I’m not really sure such a place exists, but if you wanted to do a non-school science activity where we talk about things that aren’t homework or a thesis…”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes.” A beat. “Maybe.” Another long pause. “Only if you’d be into that kind of thing.”

Her head ducks with a bit of a smile before nodding. “Yeah. I would.”

“Good.” Greg grins as he takes a step backwards. “Well. I’ll go return the whiteboard, but… text me, or something…”

“How about we go to Harry’s?” It was a pretty casual hole in the wall, often frequented by grad students. “Friday night?”

He smiles even wider. “I’ll meet you there at eight.”

“Good.” She quickly wipes down the info off the whiteboard before going to pack up her computer. “I’ll see you Friday.”

“See you Friday.”

As she packs up to return to her dorm, she can’t help but think that this is the best possible end she could have had to her day.

Edited 2022-01-26 03:45 (UTC)

When you’re a thousand years old, it’s rare that things take you by surprise.

Kol emerges into the twenty-first century, convinced that he’s seen it all, and the world has nothing left to offer him. Sure, there are new gadgets and trinkets, but nothing that really motivates him to change. Nothing that makes him want to be better than the monster his mother turned him into.

Then, he dies, and his mother puts him into the body of a witch.

It’s not as though he’s forgotten how magic felt. The power that courses through him and how it responds so easily to a flick of his wrist or a simple chant. The witch that he’s inhabiting is not a creature of particular talent, but it still feels good to have magic again. Even then, there’s nothing particularly new about doing magic, even after a thousand years as a vampire. What is new is Davina Claire.

As he and Davina collide, she sets herself apart with her determination, her drive. She wants to grab the reins of her life and take control again, even against beasts like his brothers, and he would love to see her do it. It’s been so long since the Originals have had a proper challenge, one that could actually stand the test of time in beating them, that he almost wants to see her succeed.

Almost, in the sense that part of him still loves his family, even if they don’t feel the same for him. He wants to put Klaus down for a few centuries, not end him for good.

Even with that caveat, Davina helps him. He watches as the gold winds around the dagger in question, changing its material from silver to gold, something his brother would be susceptible to. He waits for the spell to complete before sneaking closer, draping one arm around her shoulders with a smile.

“You really are something extraordinary, Davina Claire.”

She glances back at him with a smile as she leans back into his chest with a sigh. “I had some help.”

“Still, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Davina turns to face him more, letting her arms wind around his waist. “Things could get bad if you miss.”

“I’ve been planning this for a few hundred years now,” he sighs. “Don’t worry. I won’t miss.”

“You’re human now. That means you’re a lot more fragile than you used to be.”

“And Klaus won’t see it coming,” Kol smirks. “Besides. You’d bring me back.”

Davina raises an eyebrow curiously. “And what makes you think I’m powerful enough to do that?”

“I have a hunch.” He leans in to kiss her softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek gently. “Trust me.”

“I do,” she admits uneasily. He has a sneaking suspicion she more than trusted him, but he won’t push her too far. Instead, he leans in to kiss her forehead.

“Now. We should celebrate our big win.” He pulls back and tucks her arm in his. “Shall we take a stroll through the Quarter? See what other mischief we could get up to?”

She smiles and gives his arm a squeeze. “I’d like that.”

As he leads her off into the night, he had the feeling that this might finally be the start of something different.

Edited 2022-01-29 23:08 (UTC)

“I guess that’s that, then.”

Kady looks out the window, watching as the snow comes down in droves around them, blocking them into the apartment. Having the apartment to themselves is a rare occurrence these days, given how often the group is coming in and out of Fillory, from Brakebills, the Library, whatever surprise visitors that come their way. But Eliot, Josh and Margo are back in Fillory, Alice is at the Library, Penny is at Brakebills and she and Julia are alone.

The solitude is refreshing.

“Probably for the rest of the night, if the snow has anything to say about it.” Julia settles back into the couch, crossing her legs under her as she does. “Whatever will we do about it?” An impish smirk crosses her lips as she pats the empty cushion next to her.

Kady laughs, moving back towards her and dropping back onto the couch. “Josh left some pizza in the fridge that we could heat up.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty to watch on TV.” Julia turns into her, one hand coming to rest against Kady’s waist.

“I’m sure there’s more than enough to keep us occupied.” Kady murmurs just before Julia’s lips collide with hers, and she sinks into a searing kiss. Alone time is minimal, and Kady is more than willing to take advantage of there being fewer demands on her time. Hands wander as the kiss deepens, clothes get removed, and Kady sinks into the moment, following instincts and enjoying her and Julia’s time together for however long it lasts.

Soon, the urgency fades, and she and Julia are back on the couch, with the leftover pizza and a movie Julia pressed into Kady’s side. There’s a few moments of chewing before Julia looks up at her. “What does it say about us that it takes a snowstorm for us to get some alone time together?”

“That we live in a house full of assholes with boundary issues?”

“… Okay, true,” Julia admits. “But also, maybe we haven’t been putting in enough of an effort?”

Kady raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think that quests and apocalypses take time to consider our ability to go on a date, Jules.”

“No, but the leader of the East Coast hedges might take a breather occasionally to take her girlfriend out to dinner.”

“Oh, is that how it is?” Kady smirks, turning to face her. “And you’re always perfectly on time for all of our dates and never have to cancel or reschedule? Pot, kettle, Jules.”

“I’m just saying that maybe we could both make more of an effort.” Julia shifts, putting her pizza down to face Kady more. “Because I really do like this. Being alone with you, when I can. I think we could both benefit from the quality time.”

Kady takes a deep breath and nods. “I’m sure Pete will find me much easier to work with.”

“I’m sure he will. And honestly, when we take the time off, I’m able to keep a clearer head.” Julia sighs. “Might be better if we actually take care of ourselves.”

“What a concept,” Kady laughs, before snaking an arm around her to pull her closer. “I promise our next date will not be just because we’re snowed in.”

“I promise too,” Julia nods, before leaning in to kiss her again. “But until then? We can fully take advantage of what the snow offers.”

Kady grins as she sets her own pizza to the side to pull her girlfriend closer. “I can’t argue with that.”

“You’re never going to guess what happened today.”

Harvey glances up from the file in front of him, before leaning back in his desk chair to look at Donna. From the look on her face, she’s caught a juicy morsel of gossip she’s looking to share, and as much as Harvey would love to hear it, rather than deal with any of the cases on his desk, but he can’t bring himself to muster the excitement.

“Did Dennis finally get Bertha to tender her resignation?”

“Not yet. She’s highly determined to make it to her pension, no matter what.”

She pauses, tipping her head to the side as she studies him in that Donna expression of hers, the one that often feels like she’s reaching inside his head to pull out his thoughts. He hates that expression, if he’s honest, but if he’s honest, he’d also admit that sometimes he needs to get him to admit that he has feelings occasionally.

But only on rare rare occasions.

She steps inside his office, shutting the door behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The answer is automatic, because nothing is ever wrong with Harvey. He’s a law machine who doesn’t get bothered by things like emotions and empathy. He enacts decisions with precision and devoid of emotion, clinging to the cold, precise nature of the law. Donna, however, rolls her eyes, as though by her duty as his best friend, she is required to call him on how much of a human being he is.

“Bullshit. That is not your ‘nothing’s wrong’ face.” She moves to sit in front of him, crossing one leg over the other. “What’s wrong?”

Harvey sighs, leaning back in his seat and staring at the files. “It’s one thing when the people are clearly guilty and things are more clear cut. But then you get a case like this…”

“This is about the Gonzalez case?”

“Everything right now is about the Gonzalez case.” He runs a hand over his face as he rests his chin in his hand. “I want to deal this out. I should deal this out. But Cameron wants me to put her through the ringer and the defense attorney is refusing to deal because he thinks he could get in good with the jury.”

“Screw Cameron Dennis. I know he’s your mentor, but that doesn’t mean he’s always right.”

Harvey knows how Donna feels about their boss, but in this case, he feels more willing to listen to her concerns. Maybe because for once he actually feels like she’s on his side, rather than trying to talk him out of something that just skirts the lines of ethics.

“So you keep saying. But he’s also my boss, which doesn’t mean it’s easy to tell him no.”

“Then ask for forgiveness rather than permission.” Donna leans closer, letting her hand rest over his. “The law may be the law, Harvey, but you’re still a human person. And you interpret the law, not use it as a blunt weapon.”

Harvey doesn’t respond at first, leaning back in his chair again as he turns over his options. He could approach the lawyer again. See if there’s a deal she would take. He doesn’t want to risk his record, but he also doesn’t want to put an already traumatized woman through Hell again.

“I have a call with opposing counsel tomorrow. Maybe I’ll test the waters, see if there’s a deal he will take.”

“Good,” she nods. “I think you’ll sleep better for it.”

Harvey smirks. “I’m one of the good guys, Donna. I sleep just fine all the time.”

“You’re a prosecutor, Harvey. That doesn’t automatically make you a good guy.” She pushes up from the chair and goes to perch on the edge of his desk. “But I think you are a good man. That’s why I get on your case sometimes.”

“I know.” Harvey sighs, before looking up at her with a smirk. “Are we done talking about work? I’m sure you were sitting on a tantalizing tidbit before you came in here.”

Her eyes light up with the promise of a good old-fashioned gossip session before reaching for his hand. “Why don’t we take this out of the office for a drink?”

“Please,” he nods, pushing up and reaching for his coat.

“Great,” she grins. “I know just the place.”

“Lead the way.”

Edited 2022-03-25 01:41 (UTC)

There’s a snow-covered lump on her porch.

Lydia doesn’t know who called him—it sure as hell wasn’t here. She had retreated to a cabin in the woods, far from the real world where death has become a little too prevalent. She has a month for her winter break before she needs to return to MIT and, mostly; she had wanted to be alone.

And yet, there’s a lump on her porch. She can hazard a guess who the lump is, and is unsure of how he got there. Part of her doesn’t want to answer the door—she’s fairly certain that werewolves won’t freeze to death—but she also can’t in good conscience leave her pack mate out there to turn into a popsicle.

She opens the door and sighs. “What are you doing here, Scott?”

The lump turns, and Scott flashes her an amiable smile. “I came to see you.”

“But you’re not actually leaving the porch?” She tips her head to the side. “Not even going to knock on the door.”

He makes a face. “I wasn’t sure you actually wanted to see anyone.”

She doesn’t. But since he’s already here, she steps back, holding the door open so that he can come inside. He stands, shaking out some of the falling snow before making his way inside. As she shuts the door behind him, Lydia takes a breath before saying the inevitable: “I’m fine.”

“Sure.” Scott replies, shedding his jacket and hanging it on the coat hook. “You’re always fine.”

“So, why are you here?”

“Because while they caught the killer, they weren’t sure if he had any partners. And I didn’t think you being alone in a cabin in the woods was a good idea. And neither did Derek.”

“So are you saying that there’s also probably at least one Hale lurking where I can’t see them?”

Scott shrugs. “At least I let you know I’m here instead of creeping on you like some kind of weirdo.”

Lydia laughs before shaking her head. “I have coffee or tea.”

“Tea, please.” The boots come next, and he moves towards the fireplace where she’s got a modest fire going. He plops down in front of the hearth and warms his hands. Lydia goes to start the teapot, before turning to face him.

“You should probably get out of those wet clothes, but I doubt anything of mine will fit you.” She tips her head to the side. “But I have a dryer and a bathrobe, so…”

“I can make due.”

“Okay. One bathrobe coming up.”

A half hour later, Scott bundles up on the couch, cradling the cup of tea in hand, and Lydia is across from him in an armchair as he watches her. She watches him back, stirring her own tea idly before she finally has to ask:

“What?”

“Are you really fine?”

“Those bodies weren’t my first dead bodies.”

“No. You’ve seen probably way more dead bodies than anyone would ever want to see.”

Being a banshee has his downsides, and it’s nice to see her friends acknowledging it for once, rather than trying to use her as a dowsing rod for the next great tragedy. Scott gives her one of those meaningful Scott McCall looks where he sees into her soul and knows that she has feelings.

How dare he.

“That doesn’t mean you have to be okay, though.”

“Doesn’t it?” Lydia replies, setting the tea down on the nearby table to avoid looking him in the eye. “Banshees deal in death, and given how often things in Beacon Hills could end in a massacre, you would think I would be used to it by now.”

“Someone still died. In this case, many people died. It doesn’t make you weak to acknowledge that you feel that.” Scott runs his fingers around the edge of the teacup. “You know, on the way here I was thinking about why banshees are a thing. Deaton always talked about how nature was always all about balance, and I was never sure what the purpose was for someone who screamed for the dead—what they were balancing out. But I think in some ways it’s… acknowledgement.”

Lydia frowns. “How do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Parrish taking the chimeras was about keeping the supernatural’s secrets. But banshees and hellhounds are connected. So while Parrish was hiding things to protect us, maybe you’re here to remind us that those people were real people. And they deserve to be remembered and mourned.”

Lydia smiles softly, before getting up and sliding onto the couch next to him. “You can be surprisingly intuitive, Scott.”

He grins back at her before leaning to rest his shoulder against hers. “Guess I’m not as stupid as I look.”

“Guess not.” Lydia shifts to rest her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. “And I am really glad you came.”

Sometimes it’s just nice to have a friend around, even if you think you want to be alone.

Edited 2022-03-25 01:44 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 4

fandom weekly { 2021 } entry tracking part 3

Part 2
Running Word Count: 73,858 words

#101 ~ and we all lose our charms in the end ~ leverage ~ 617

#102 ~ the choice is yours ~ dctv ~ 698

#103 ~ we got fun and games ~ original ~ 830

#104 ~ i've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed ~ leverage ~ 1,000

#105 ~ never shall we die ~ original ~ 553

#106 ~ harder better faster stronger ~ original ~ 971 ~ AMNESTY

#107 ~ give me all of your prayers to sing ~ tvdverse ~ 929

#108 ~ it's who we're doing them with ~ original ~ 861 ~ AMNESTY

#109 ~ friends are like an old shirt that always makes you smile ~ dctv ~ 879

#110 ~ take a look, it's in a book ~ tvdverse ~ 997

#111 ~ wouldn't you like to see something strange ~ tvdverse ~ 756

#112 ~ let me know if you're really a dream ~ uncharted ~ 760 ~ AMNESTY

#113 ~ winter wonderlands weren't made for one ~ tvdverse ~ 934 ~ AMNESTY

#114 ~ you know how i keep you guessing ~ teen wolf ~ 942 ~ AMNESTY

#115 ~ speak up, take a stand ~ dctv ~ 911 ~ AMNESTY

#116 ~ stay alive until this horror show has passed ~ teen wolf ~ 842 ~ AMNESTY

#117 ~ it's love that makes me walk away ~ everyone lives ~ 960 ~ AMNESTY

#118 ~ and i'll be you ~ tvdverse ~ 898 ~ AMNESTY

#119 ~ i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drum ~ teen wolf ~ 981 ~ AMNESTY

#120 ~ there's no rescuing now because you're falling apart ~ dctv ~ 996

#121 ~ stuck in the real world, nothing comes free ~ original ~ 979

#122 ~ i couldn’t compete with the spell you were under ~ tvdverse ~ 561 ~ AMNESTY

#123 ~ let my heart be the teacher ~ the magicians ~ 589 ~ AMNESTY

#124 ~ you better trust me when i tell you ~ suits ~ 729 ~ AMNESTY

#125 ~ say the word and i'm already there ~ teen wolf ~ 832 ~ AMNESTY

fandom weekly { 2021 } entry tracking part 3

Part 2Running Word Count: 73,858 words

#101 ~ and we all lose our charms in the end ~ leverage ~ 617

#102 ~ the choice is yours ~ dctv ~ 698

#103 ~ we got fun and games ~ original ~ 830

#104 ~ i've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed ~ leverage ~ 1,000

#105 ~ never shall we die ~ original ~ 553

#106 ~ harder better faster stronger ~ original ~ 971 ~ AMNESTY

#107 ~ give me all of your prayers to sing ~ tvdverse ~ 929

#108 ~ it's who we're doing them with ~ original ~ 861 ~ AMNESTY

#109 ~ friends are like an old shirt that always makes you smile ~ dctv ~ 879

#110 ~ take a look, it's in a book ~ tvdverse ~ 997

#111 ~ wouldn't you like to see something strange ~ tvdverse ~ 756

#112 ~ let me know if you're really a dream ~ uncharted ~ 760 ~ AMNESTY

#113 ~ winter wonderlands weren't made for one ~ tvdverse ~ 934 ~ AMNESTY

#114 ~ you know how i keep you guessing ~ teen wolf ~ 942 ~ AMNESTY

#115 ~ speak up, take a stand ~ dctv ~ 911 ~ AMNESTY

#116 ~ stay alive until this horror show has passed ~ teen wolf ~ 842 ~ AMNESTY

#117 ~ it's love that makes me walk away ~ everyone lives ~ 960 ~ AMNESTY

#118 ~ and i'll be you ~ tvdverse ~ 898 ~ AMNESTY

#119 ~ i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drum ~ teen wolf ~ 981 ~ AMNESTY

#120 ~ there's no rescuing now because you're falling apart ~ dctv ~ 996

#121 ~ stuck in the real world, nothing comes free ~ original ~ 979

#122 ~ i couldn’t compete with the spell you were under ~ tvdverse ~ 561 ~ AMNESTY

#123 ~ let my heart be the teacher ~ the magicians ~ 589 ~ AMNESTY

#124 ~ you better trust me when i tell you ~ suits ~ 729 ~ AMNESTY

#125 ~ say the word and i'm already there ~ teen wolf ~ 832 ~ AMNESTY

Part 2
Running Word Count: 73,858 words