#flashwrites

:3c “This is my favorite picture of us." (Vivi)

“This is my favorite picture of us!” she declares, yanking it out of the box- and then frowning at it. “Wait, no it isn’t.”

Arthur shakes his head at her. Her memories have returned with a vengeance, and she seems determined to take a trip down memory lane as often as possible, as though settling something inside her.

Arthur combs through his allocated box, photo after photo amassed over their cases together. Most of them are businesslike snaps of their investigations- he hastily stuffs one back that shows the edge of a circle, daubed in red- and unearths another one of their group shots. “This?”

She casts her eye over it, then smiles, taking it and tilting it toward Lewis. “Remember this?”

“Oh, I wonder what happened to that shirt?”

“Um, I think I’ve got it...” Arthur admits sheepishly, earning him a knowing smile from both of them and a gentle pat from Lewis.

“Nice, but not the one I’m thinking of,” Vivi says, setting it aside into the ‘frame’ pile and going back to her box.

“Maybe if you tell us which one you’re looking for?”

“It was all of us together- I think Lance took it. We’re at the Mechanics and we’d just finished painting the van-”

“Oh,” says Arthur. “I ...know where that one is.”

He passes his box to Lewis, leaving them to track it down. He knows exactly where it is, after all, they’d only pulled it out recently...

In a drawer in the living room he finds the small stack, set aside for a particular purpose. He retrieves the photo and heads back into the kitchen to hand it to Vivi.

She beams at it. “Yes! This is it! Wait- where was it?”

Arthur glances at Lewis. “It was in the stack you put together. When we were... uh, making Lewis’ new locket. Remember?”

Vivi looks the photo over again. They’re all holding paintbrushes, even Mystery holding one in his mouth, the four of them covered liberally in splashes of orange paint. Lewis leans his elbow against the van, Arthur scolding him for mussing the fresh paint, while Vivi cackles at them both and Mystery winks at the camera. The ‘Mystery Skulls’ symbol shines above them, fresh and sparkling and so full of hope.

She runs her finger along the edge of it carefully, tipping it toward Lewis as he looks over her shoulder. “That’s right. I nearly decided on this one to use, but... I don’t know. Part of me just couldn’t bear to cut it up.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” says Lewis. “It’s my favorite too.”

“Framing pile then?” Arthur says, gesturing to it, and Vivi nods.

“Framing pile. Although... it’s not as big a pile as I thought it’d be.” She frowns consideringly.

She couldn’t have set it up better for him if she’d tried. “We-ellll, it’s a good thing I’ve been working on a ghost-proof camera.”

59. "I'll never forget you." (Someone to Lewis :) )

Paprika holds her father’s hand tightly, shuffling her feet. It’s hard to stand still for so long, but she knows this is Important, so she tries really hard to be as quiet and still as she can.

There are lots of people at the park, but instead of running around and playing, they’re all standing in a circle, watching her mother. They’re all wearing really nice clothes, just like her.

Paprika tugs at the stiff fabric of her dress, then glances guiltily up at Mama. She did promise she’d try not to muss it up. Her mother isn’t watching her, though. She’s saying something to all the people.

Her Papa squeezes her hand, and they must have finished listening to Mama, because people start to leave. One of them stops to talk to Papa. He has a moustache, like Uncle Lance.

“Real shame, you know. He was a good kid.”

Papa’s lips tighten, and he nods to the man. He mustn’t be like Uncle Lance at all, then, if he’s making Papa sad.

The man glances around and sees Paprika. He frowns. “And your girls so young, too. I hope she remembers him, when she’s older.”

The man is making her Papa look so sad and she doesn’t like him at all. “Papa, l want Mama,” she says, tugging at his hand.

He doesn’t even scold her for being rude. “Excuse us,” he says to the man, and they hurry away from him.

Mama is standing near a pile of flowers. There’s a photo of her brother sitting on top, and Paprika wants to pick it up. She probably isn’t allowed, though.

39. "I wanna know everything about you." (Vivi)

“I’ll be back with the milk,” Arthur says, and then he’s out the door, keys held in his teeth, jacket half-shrugged on.

Lewis gently shuts the door, then joins her on the sofa. The movie credits finish rolling and then loop back around to the menu screen, the theme repeating jauntily. Lewis goes to take her hand, then changes his mind halfway, letting it hang in the air for a moment before dropping it back to his knee.

Vivi gives him an awkward smile, shuffling over to make room for him. “Do you think he’ll actually make it back with milk?”

Lewis laughs. “Probably. There’s a ten percent chance he’ll come back with something like duct tape and marshmallows, and no milk.” Vivi snorts a laugh, and he continues on, encouraged, “Like that time we needed rice and he came back with three KitKats and a bottle of pomegranate juice. What gas station sells pomegranate juice?”

What? She looks at him blankly. “...What? When did that happen?”

“Oh, that case up in-? ...oh.”

She tips her head to the side, and then her eyes widen in realisation. “Oh. This is one of those things I can’t remember, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” he says lamely, and her face must show her frustration, because he panics. “But- that’s okay! I can... fill you in? No, that’s... that’s no good. Um, we can talk about something else-?”

She leans over to take his hand, and he goes quiet, letting her trace around his fingers, around his wrist. “I don’t remember you. At all. But... it’s like this instinct in the back of my mind, telling me I should. Like when you know you know the answer to a question, it’s just... hidden somewhere.”

His fingers tighten around hers, a suddenly iron grip, but just as quickly he relaxes them. “...Right.”

“That doesn’t mean... I can’t get to know you again, you know. I’ve sort of been waiting to meet you. Is that weird?”

His head jerks up in surprise, and she edges closer still. Odd, to feel like she needs to avoid spooking the ghost. “Arthur talked about you a lot.”

“...He... he did?”

“Yeah. I was really hoping we would find you, in the end. Not just for his sake, either. I have questions.” She glances up at him. He seems... too still. “So... I do want you to fill me in. I want to know everything about you. Again.”

She meets his eyes, and they shine with hope. “Anything! Uh- I mean, you can ask me anything.”

“Good.” She smiles brightly, secretly relieved beyond measure. “Because- I made a list. It’s a really really long list.”

49. "Last night your feet were really cold, so I found some of your socks and put them on you." (Arthur and Vivi)

Vivi slams the alarm clock to its ignominious death on the floor, sits up, and yawns mightily. A morning person she is not.

She examines the room and determines that it’s Arthur’s house she’s landed in, this time. The cogs in her brain slowly whir into motion. Ah, that’s right- they all congregated at his place to try out that new recipe.

At the thought of spaghetti leftovers for breakfast, she perks up, flinging off the covers and stumbling towards the kitchen-

-only to nearly go ass-over-teakettle as her feet slip cartoonishly on the hallway’s wooden floorboards. “Whoop~!”

She does her best impromptu ice-skating, slithering and sliding gracelessly down the hall, nearly tripping on Mystery, then whacking into the wall and ending up latched onto the kitchen doorframe. “That was a hideous way to start the morning.”

At the kitchen table, Arthur and Lewis stare at her. Lewis has both hands clapped over his mouth in an attempt to fend off the impending spit-take. Arthur’s spoon is frozen halfway towards his mouth. As she blinks at him, he drops the spoon and takes a deep, calming breath.

“Okay... that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, and then bursts out laughing. This sets Lewis off, and he desperately swallows the mouthful of tea and collapses into coughing giggle-snorts.

Stumbling - carefully - onto the nearest chair, she pops her feet up, giving them a look of betrayal. “Why am I wearing socks??”

They’re hideous, orange and purple stripes with yellow ruffles, and far, far too big for her feet.

"Last night your feet were really cold, so I found some of your socks and put them on you,” says Arthur.

“These are not mine!” she says in horror.

“They are, actually! I bought them for you, remember?” Arthur grins an evil grin. “Best gift I ever found.”

She squints at them. The garish colours mock her, searing into her still-half-asleep eyes. Oh, now she remembers. “You mean the ones I threatened to burn and you took back?”

Arthur nods serenely. “I kept them safe for you.”

Groaning, she reaches over and snatches up his coffee mug. “Arthur, please. It’s too early for villainy.” But not too early for revenge.

"Marry me." lewvithur

She knows it’s not possible, not legally anyway, but that doesn’t stop her asking. Even if her two boys are maybe not yet at the stage where they think she’s serious.

Lewis hands her a steaming cup of tea, which she takes with delight. “Oh my god, perfect. Marry me.”

He just laughs.

Arthur lugs the printer back to the Tome Tomb, sliding the old behemoth onto the counter and grinning at her over it. “All fixed! Should last for another hundred years now.”

“You’re a genius.” She beams back at him. “Marry me.”

“Sure thing,” he laughs, “you can name the date.”

It becomes something of a running joke, the amount of times she asks them.

“Marry me,” she demands one day, when Lewis’ arm is around her waist, her hands in his hair, her glasses knocked askew but not enough to miss the look of adoration in his eyes-

“Anytime,” he answers, and she huffs.

She catches Arthur’s sleeve one day, trails her hand down his arm to hook their hands together. They’re on their way back from this wild goose chase Arthur insists on, stress creasing his face and making her desperate to cheer him up. “You really should, you know. Marry me, I mean. We could really use the health insurance.”

He doesn’t reply, just turns away.

It isn’t until much, much later- after tragedy and recovery and lots of time for remembrance- when she thinks she might actually ask. Ask properly, instead of hiding behind jokes and flippancy, instead of trying to force two sides onto an unfinished triangle.

“Marry me,” she says, one hand in each of theirs, gripping hard; eyes serious as she stares them down.

"I love waking up next to you." - Lewvi

It’s the sun that wakes her, streaming too obnoxiously through the window for a Sunday, and she rolls, determined to put the pillow over her head in protest.

Turns out that wasn’t a pillow.

Lewis chuckles, the deep sound echoing softly, and obligingly lifts his arm to shade her from the sunlight as he untwists her from the sheets. “Good morning to you too?”

She peers at him with one bleary eye, surprised to see him. “Lew? What’re you doing?” He’s usually off doing something in the mornings, rarely able to wait out the whole night just watching her sleep.

He shrugs, the morning light washing him out slightly at the edges, but his arms still reassuringly solid. “Saying good morning to my favorite girl?” His grin is cheesy. “Or should I wait until you’re actually ready to get up?”

89. "We can look out for each other." (Lewis and Arthur)

As they head ever deeper down into the creepy cave, Arthur’s nerves fray more and more. Too busy staring into the darkness- was that something glowing?- he runs into Lewis’ back as he halts.

“Whoa there!” Lewis says, reaching a hand back to both balance himself and steady Arthur. “The path is getting pretty rough.”

Arthur latches on to his shirt, and try as he might he can’t prise his grip apart. “I really really don’t know about this,” he says, stiff-jawed as he tries to stop his teeth from chattering. It’s not cold per se, the ominous atmosphere is just getting to him. “We shouldn’t have split up. Let’s go back and find Vivi...”

Lewis turns to look at him, taking in his clenched teeth and hunched posture, and gives him a worried smile, gripping his shoulder in sympathy. “You’re probably right. Let’s see if we can find a way down and meet up with her.”