#multipart fic

There's a soft beating heart cradled deep in the earth. Smaller than the tiniest ant in a colony, barely there but beating on fighting its way in the soil all the way to the surface. It moves tectonic plates with its rhythm, shifts sands, and creates ripples in water somewhere miles away. This thing, this sound, this drum cradled between roots, mud, clay, and rock is life. Its mother- the same one who produces the brightest flowers that makes the sweetest honey and cultivates the most deadly insects to spread diseases- is earth. She struggles to move this heart in her womb out. This parasite, the one she held so tenderly with care and warmth well fitted for a mother, moves the solid muscle under her green skin in hopes to rid herself of this tumor. She's given too much to this specific young of hers whatever it is- whoever it is and she wants it gone. So she sends mountains crumbling in her wake, whole forests collapse with her agony, the waters in lakes shake so hard some of the fish turn over dead, nothing seems to turn over kindly, she is ruthless. A ball of roots sprouts from her, it holds her child in her earthy placenta. Sap, worms, insects, and spiders all crawl around; and inside the woven roots the smallest trace of vertebrae life peeks through this cage. An eyeball creeks open, there is crystalized mucus in the corners of their flesh, liquid drips from their eyes, it reaches its hand up to wipe away the collecting tears that cascade down its fleshy dirty cheeks. Snot dances down its nostrils no matter how much it seems to wipe away the grime collecting at the openings of its flesh it never seems to stop coming back. It frantically grabs at its skin unsure of if what they are is real. Their hands flex the digits sprouting from their palm; they groan as every digit pops at the joint.

Trying to stand they realize the cage they are in and rushed air fills their lungs. The feeling of cool wind scratches at the walls of their esophagus and that seems to hurt more than being trapped in this rooted prison. Frantically they grab onto the walls around them tearing at the roots in bunches. The damned things seem to grow back faster then it can rip them apart, they feel a hot pool of rage heating up their neck and back. He lets out a screech unfitting for a man but keeps on tearing. The walls stop growing back and he's gained control of his confines. His tearing ceases and his left hand reaches the outside world first then his right one follows suit soon his head and then when he moves to put his last leg out into the world the roots seem to catch on his ankle. He topples over into the open world belly first and groans, ripping his foot from the roots tied around his ankle. He's free. He pushes himself up from the ground. The sun blinds him and now he's remembering what it's like to see.

He tries walking but for him it becomes more stumbling. He's a fresh born fawn scraping for purpose. A gust of wind hits his bare back and he shivers. He finds himself wrapping his arms around his torso making his way into the trees around him. The little chirps of birds and creaking of branches in the wind remind him what it means to live. The grass in-between his toes, the dirt under his nails, and the buzzing of insects in his ears all sing to him. He scuttles into a small clearing and the trees around him seem to shift on their stumps moving in formation like knights might to a king. He hums and brings his hands back down to his side. There's a building not too far ahead of him. The claws of his mother have begun to crowd the cement and glass leaving traces of her embrace in the cracks of its walls. He reaches the large metal door and sucks a deep breath in when his palm pushes onto its cold metal. A sharp pain stabs behind his forehead and lingers deep in-between his eyes. He clutches his head and settles his weight fully into the metal prying the door open. He falls first onto the floor and hears a crack near his right ear. A sharp light hits his retinas and then black dots bubble into his vision, his world goes to black.

“My child.” Warm that's the first feeling that comes to mind. He responds with a groan. “I have bared your flesh deep within my soil. Cradled you in the vines of my womb. This gift I have bestowed upon you is what my dearest creations call ‘life’. There is no sacrifice I have given more than to break off parts of me to give to you. My roots feed your veins, my clay builds your bones, and your brothers and sisters sew your skin.” This voice- this thing boasts its image like a mother. “Your life comes with a price my young…” Trailed by a dramatic pause, the weight of the world seems to shift with her words.

“Who are you, my mother?” he hears himself in his deep slumber far away and quiet and at this he knows he is not conscious.

A soft chuckle rumbles in the deep black space. Whoever this is seems amused. “Ah a smart one I see!” A cold sensation kisses his right shoulder. “Not quite. You are not mine originally but in time you will bring back to me what is mine. That is your price, my ward.”

The cold creeps up his back and the dark of the world seems to fade back into dust and vines. There's dirt in the air and his vision is taking in light. He's face up resting on what seems to be a tiled floor. White, hard, framed by black grout and once sterile, he moves to stand back upright again and catches himself on the wall to his left. There's a silver reflective metal on the wall opposite of him and he recollects it as a mirror. There's a deep seeded memory inside him that urges him to shuffle towards his reflection. What he sees is a man, one he's seen and not seen before. He smoothes his fingers over his flesh and recalls someone else running their hands over his cheeks before him. He's rough around the edges and his hair seems to think so too as it's taken on some sort of tangled shape. He concludes he needs a shower and turns his gaze downwards at his nudity and thinks ‘I should find some clothes too’.

“No you will not,” Danny said calmly but firmly, ignoring the look of hurt and fear in Fright’s eyes. “I will not revoke your title, and you may continue to serve the crown, but I will be knighting Red Hood. He will be my knight, not a knight of the crown,” He said with a sneer. “For now you can serve me by making sure news of my rule is properly spread. Make sure they know, and know that things will be changing and do it without threats. Understand?”

“Yes my King,” Fright said, though he still didn’t seem pleased he wouldn’t disobey an order. He got up and shot a glare at Jason before flying off to do a task Danny hoped would keep him busy for a good long while given the Realms were Infinite and all. 

Once he was gone Danny turned back towards the rest of his ‘welcoming party’, He sighed and forced his shoulders to relax. “So, show me to the work that needs to be done,” He said, more confidently than he felt.

“Oh there will be plenty of time for that,” Clockwork said wryly, leaning heavily on his staff. 

“There’s a royal wedding to plan!” Frostbite butted in, excited and eager as ever, trigger near identical startled sounds from Jason and Danny. 

“Are you sure? We were planning on waiting and getting married in the mortal world first. I’m sure there’s a ton of stuff to do before…” He trailed off because Pandora was shaking her head. 

She held out one set of hands, the other still clasped behind her back; “A royal wedding is exactly what we need. It had been a long time since the Realms had a king, and much longer still since anything to do with a king could be called a joyous occasion. Not counting when the council managed to bind Pariah Dark.

“A royal wedding will bring everyone together so they can see you, while ensuring the expectation is that they be happy for you, and bring gifts. Since the coronation was immediate, and took place in the human world, this is the best opportunity for you to meet the other governing bodies within the Realms, and to set their expectations of you.” 

“I do not want my wedding to be a political affair,” Danny said coldly, drawing himself up to his full height, which still wasn’t very impressive at all in the face of Pandora and Frostbite. He was taller than Clockwork now at least. He relaxed just slightly when Jason rested a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“You can still have the wedding you want in the human world, the ceremony here won’t be binding there. And you can have whatever guests you want as well as the political ones, the guest list will be hundreds long as is, and we’ll make sure spaces for family are reserved right at the front,” Frostbite assured, placatingly. 

Danny took a deep breath and shook his head before turning back towards Jason. “What do you think?” He asked, taking one of Jason’s hands, he couldn’t quite lace their fingers together with the size of Jason’s gloves so this would have to do. 

Jason shrugged; “I told you I’m happy to get to marry you multiple times, This isn’t the way we planned it sure, but this can be a dress rehearsal basically, and I gotta admit I’m curious as fuck about what sort of gifts ghosts will give their king. I think Robin and Phantasm will have a blast with it too. Ohhh you should invite Constantine! Seeing him scramble to get a gift would be hilarious!”

Danny couldn’t help but smile at Jason, glad he wasn’t taking this seriously as he might have, and could see the humour in it. “Alright,” Danny agreed fondly, leaning forward to kiss his helmet over Jason’s cheek. “How do ghostly weddings even work?” He asked, turning back towards his new council. 

Clockwork smiled approvingly and Frostbite downright cheered, Jason and Danny were shepherded into a council room where planning began. For the most part Danny and Jason let the planning take place around them rather than actually taking part in it.  They put in their input here and there, colour choices, food, making sure things were human-safe options for the few guests Danny and Jason wanted to bring. The councilors were the ones who knew who in the Realms needed to be invited, mostly kings and chiefs of various sections of the realms who were too used to ruling without oversight. 

When it seemed like all the personal touches were finished Danny placed his palms on the table and stood up, smiling around the table without much feeling. “Is the guest list all you’ll be discussing now?” He asked calmly.

“Well, yes but-” Pandora started but Danny held up his hand and shook his head. 

“I don’t care who you invite other than my family. Send me a list of who you decide to invite and what I need to know. I’m going to have a look around the rest of the keep to see what else I’ve inherited from that bastard, other than a complete mess.” Danny dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Did Pariah Dark have an office?”

There was a moment of silence, the rest of the council glancing around at one another, everyone clearly expecting someone else to have an answer. “He must have had an office right?” Frostbite questioned. 

“I’m sure that he did,” Pandora agreed, nodding firmly. “He wasn’t always mad, he did his duty at some point.”

“Great,” Danny sighed, pushing himself back from the table and standing up. “Well, maybe we’ll find his office while we’re exploring and if not I’ll choose a new room to be my office. I should start remaking this place to suit me anyway, I don’t want anyone you bring to the wedding to think that I’m in any way like him after all, I should start reshaping this place.”

“Very well,” Clockwork sighed and turned back towards the table, launching back into discussions about the guest list. After that would be discussion of seating arrangements. Danny fully expected this to take days. Even if they insisted this needed to be done quickly, all of the people discussing it were ancient and immortal, to them tomorrow still meant next month. Of course thanks to the time dilation in the living world they would still get around to the wedding before Danny and Jason could, unless they wanted a Vegas wedding, which he didn’t. Although… No, he wouldn’t compromise the wedding that they had dreamed for this. 

Danny slipped out of the room with Jason on his heels to explore with him. Danny paused to take Jason’s hand again so they could walk together down the broad, dimly lit haul. Danny grimaced and glared at one of the torches. “Okay to start with we can get some more fucking light in here, and maybe a rug,” He grumbled, closing his eyes and focusing on the ecto around him. It was resistant to his touch, he wasn’t the mind that it was used to responding to and it didn’t want to listen to him. But this was his haunt now, he was the master of this space now and it would answer to him. 

The world beyond Danny’s eyelids brightened slightly and Jason gasped softly. Danny opened his eyes and gave a self satisfied smile when he saw the torches were brighter and a slightly warmer shade of green and there was now a very grand rug stretching off down the long hall. “Good, that’s better. Let’s get going.”

“How did you do that?” Jason asked curiously. 

“Oh right, you’ve never been to the Ghost Zone before! The entire place is made of ectoplasm, that means it responds to emotion and will. Not all of it I mean, every ghost has a haunt and the ecto in their haunt responds to them, everyone’s haunt is specially tailored to them. Actually… because when I died I didn’t come to the Realms naturally, I’m not sure I had a haunt here before I defeated Pariah and took his. I’d better make the most of it huh? I’m going to manifest an observatory!” Danny exclaimed, excitement getting the better of him for a moment. And why not? It was about time this place felt a little bit of joy. 

Jason laughed and Danny grinned at him, tugging him along after him. “Come on, we should find a bedroom for the two of us as well and make that ours. We’ll be spending some nights here while I set everything up, or at least I will. I’ll figure out how to make it safe for you so you can have a comfortable place here too while you’re still living.”

“I love how ominous you are,” Jason said with genuine warmth, making Danny laugh again. They continued on with a bounce in their step and the energy of giddy children exploring an ancient mansion, and they found plenty of hidden rooms and hallways to justify that excitement. Though whether they’d been there before or if the ecto was manifesting them because Danny expected them to be there was anyone’s guess. 

They carried on that way until they found a potential bedroom that, with a little editing, would work for the both of them. Danny could will a lot of the ecto in the room to be inert, or absent, but it took a lot of concentration and it wasn’t perfect. He was going to have to invent something, a miniature ghost shield maybe? Either way it would be safe for one night and Jason was tired.

Danny lay with him until he was asleep, but in his ghost form and in a place of infinite ambiently metabolizable ecto he didn’t need to sleep much and he wasn’t tired. He slipped out of bed again and left a note for Jason in case he woke up while Danny was gone. Then he continued exploring, looking specifically for the office now because with Jason asleep he had nothing better to do then get a start on the work right?

Unfortunately he did find the office, which was dusty as fuck somehow despite no one here shedding skin cells. There were piles upon piles of papers here, the stacks had probably started on the desk, but when they got too tall work had started to pile up on the floor. As Pariah lost interest in the actual work people must have continued to just drop paperwork here in the hopes he might get around to some of it… eventually. They had probably only stopped once Pariah had been bound in the coffin, and then enough time passed for everyone to forget this office even existed. 

Danny sighed and settled into work, starting with the dustiest piles because those were the oldest. Most of the papers that didn’t disintegrate as soon as he picked them up were probably not valid anymore and the ones that were were probably long overdue and increasingly desperate. He incinerated ones that said they needed things on a time limit, thousands of years expired the need had probably passed one way or another, and if not they could re-submit the request to him this time. The ones that seemed like they might still need help he set aside to ask Pandora or Clockwork about when he got the chance. 

The task became meditative; pick up a paper, scan it for dates, then set it aside or incinerate it. The small amount of ecto in each of the papers giving him a little boost as they disintegrated. It gave him the time and the brain space to pay attention to his new haunt, expanding his mind to start the process of properly melding with his new haunt. It was resistant to his will for now, and he didn’t feel like forcing it, he wasn’t going to be that kind of king after all. For now it was enough to let it get used to his presence, like sharing space with a neglected cat.

At least by the morning it was responsive enough to tell him that Jason was up. Danny sighed and got up, stretching with a groan. He had gotten through about a quarter of the accumulated paperwork, not reading it or anything, just sorting out that maybe he should read it later. But still the room looked much less crowded and dusty so he was going to call that a pretty good start! He shut the door after him and concentrated for a moment to alter the door, making it more distinctive and easier to find for the future before he rushed off the say good morning to Jason, and open a portal out of the zone so they could at least get some breakfast.

Jason met him at the door and hugged Danny tightly, scooping him up as Danny yelped then laughed, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulder in return. “Put me down,” He laughed, not really meaning it so Jason held him for a minute longer before putting him down and kissing him sweetly enough Danny started purring instantly. 

“Let’s go to the courthouse,” Jason announced, soft and breathless once he put Danny down. 

“What?” Danny asked, shocked, but when Jason looked chagrined and started to pull away Danny hugged him tighter and pulled him back in. “No no! I’m not opposed to it, I’m just surprised!”

“I know. And I’m really not upset about the ghost wedding thing, I meant that! And I don’t want us to rush before having our big wedding. But that’s going to include a ton of heroes right? So it’s kinda a masked wedding, and I want us to be married before we’re politically married you know? Let's pick up our siblings, maybe Bruce, and go to a courthouse. I’ll buy you a bouquet, and Bruce can pay for the fanciest fucking dinner of our lives as an afterparty…” He trailed off as Danny laughed and pulled Jason in for another kiss.

“Add Roy to the list of people we’re picking up and absolutely! I think we have to call ahead to make an appointment though. And I have a little more to do here, can I drop you off at home to call the courthouse and get those flowers? I’ll finish up here and come join you as soon as I can?” He asked hopefully.

“You got it Moonlight,” Jason agreed easily. 

“You’re the best, Boss,” Danny teased laughingly and Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Keep that nickname for the bedroom now Cub,” Jason replied, pushing Danny away for just a  moment before pulling him back in as Danny purred.

“Tonight?” He suggested hopefully. 

“Tonight,” Jason agreed and they kissed one more time before Danny ripped open a portal for Jason to head home with both of their tasks assigned. 

Danny threw himself back into work, doing what he could do. He dismissed the souls that Pariah owned, and set the ones that wouldn’t or couldn’t leave to cleaning the castle with strict orders to take regular breaks if they’re tired, and maybe try a couple hobbies as long as it doesn’t bother anyone else. That’s the best he can do for now. It’s going to be slow going until everyone he loves can join him in this world, and this time they actually will. None of them will be killed with ecto weapons which simultaneously destroy bodies and souls, he will never have to lose this family like he did his last one, no one will. 

He arrived home while Jason was halfway through making dinner, and got to hear about Jason’s day. He cooked and told Danny excitedly how he had called the courthouse and managed to get an appointment for the afternoon after next, and he’d called their family and everyone would be able to come! Including Dan who hadn’t gone so far that Ellie couldn’t catch up to him and ask him to come back for the wedding. Jason laughed as he told Danny Dan had been relieved to hear there was going to be a smaller wedding so he’d have an excuse not to attend the bigger ones later! 

The Cauldron was cold. The kind of cold you never actually recovered from. It just stayed with you haunting you until death, and only part of Amelia was ready to die. 

She fought the deep water, swimming as hard as she could in a never-ending darkness.

"The oldest sister, the wanderer, the adventurer. I've been dreaming of you, sweet girl," a dark feminine voice caressed her  ears as she let out the last bubble of breath she had been holding onto. 

Her lungs burned, begging for oxygen. She pleaded for someone, anyone to come save her. "I have plans for you, traveler. No longer will you be burdened by confinement. I've been waiting so long for you," a faint golden light came from the inky darkness. 

It reminded Amelia of her favorite time of day. That perfect part during the sunset, where the sun hits the horizon, spraying rays and basking the world in molten gold light. "Golden hour," she had called it once as she braided Nesta's hair into an intricate crown. "It's that last beautiful moment before the sun and the moon realize they must say goodbye again." 

Her veins burned as it flowed into her, through her, igniting every nerve into sheer agony. She tried to scream, but water rushed quickly into her lungs. Please, she pleaded. Just take me.

"Sweet Amelia Archeron. Travel, wander, get lost in this world and all others connected to it. Be free." Darkness spotted in her vision despite the bright light continuing to enter her body.

"Unfortunately." I sighed, climbing to our feet. "So, what's Scott's plan for dealing with Trask?"

"Tell him t' surrender an' we take him for the government t' deal with." Gambit said, starting the walk down to the hangar bay, shrugging his trench-coat over his broad shoulders.

"The same government that created this mess in the first place." The irony was blinding. "But I suppose that's the right thing to do, both in Scott's mind and the eyes of the law."

"Trask ain't anythin' without his robots." Gambit flashed me a smile. "'Sides, the whole team's goin' out for this, an' we beaten these plastic cans plenty 'a times. We gonna be back before ya know it."

"Sure, but wouldn't it be better if we came along too? You know that Ebak could spook anyone into a surrender, the way he moves, not to mention Ber."

"Don' disagree with ya, chère, but you guys got a much more important job - lookin' afta Jean." His smile was soft. "You keep her safe, alright?"

"We will." I nodded. "Doubt we'll have to do much, though...The worst that'd happen is her going into early labour."

"Den good thin' you be here, non?" Gambit grinned widely.

"You act like I've delivered a baby before!" I shook my head, sucking sharp air through my teeth. "Let's just hope it's blissfully boring here."

As we entered the hanger, everyone was gathering around the Blackbird, either talking amongst themselves, or - in Rogue and Ber's case - having a quiet moment together, hands held and talking lowly.

Taking inspiration from them, Gambit swept me close, dipping me back in his typical flamboyance.

"How about we have a li'l celebration when Gambit gets back, oui? Good food, walk by the lake, come home for some lovin'?" He purred.

"We'll see." I said, booping his nose and giggling when he crossed his eyes. "You just come home safe, okay?"

"Gambit always come home to you, mon ombre." He replied softly, pulling me back up into an embrace and a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing back as deeply as I could, something even his body would remember if the mission took longer than expected.

"Get a room, you two!" Morph yelled. From their sudden gasp of offence, Gambit had probably made his feelings known about that. Nonetheless, he pulled back from me, dark eyes soft.

"Fine thing for them to say when I've seen the eyes they've been making at Logan." I muttered, making the Cajun chuckle throatily.

"Give 'em time chère, dey'll come around." Large hands slid down my arms to cup my hands. "Je t'aime, mon ombre."

"Je t'aime aussi."

Gambit smiled, a twinkle in those ruby red irises. He squeezed my hands, and then we had to part. I joined the group of others seeing them off, including Jean. Even since she'd divined Trask's location out of Gyrich's head, she'd been pensive. Now was no exception, even as she put on a brave face to wave the jet goodbye.

After it left, I stepped a little closer, lowering my voice.

"You alright, Jean?"

Again, she forced a smile, even though her blue eyes were troubled, like when you see something that just won't get out of your head.

"I'm fine Shadow, thank you. Just worrying about Scott, as always." She rubbed her pregnant belly - her thirty-seventh week was approaching. Term.

"You sure?" I tilted my head. "Nothing will leave my office, if you wanna go talk there."

She looked away for a moment, debating. Then shook her head.

"No, it's alright, Shadow. It's fine."

Biting my lip, I warred with myself whether I should push harder. Even I, master of not realizing that Gambit was into me in that way, could see that it was most definitely not fine, and the fact she was avoiding the subject was doing nothing but convincing me of it.

But if there was one thing I'd managed to cobble together in my crash course in social cues that came several years late, it was that if you pushed too hard, you'd lock that person up, and then you'd never get an answer. To that question, or anything else.

"Okay." I nodded, stepping back. "You always know where to find me otherwise, right?"

She nodded, but I knew immediately she wouldn't. I tried not to sigh in frustration.

So instead, I wandered over to where my group of friends (now dubbed the Green Team) were gathered. Ebak was slyly teasing a blushing Ber, but my attention was drawn to Miranda, who looked utterly miserable.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, perching on the crate she was leaning against. "Did something happen with the guy, Nightcrawler?"

Miranda shrank a little, not looking at me. I took this cue to stare past her, especially as our other friends immediately turned their heads at my words. The eyes on her made Miranda vanish from sight.

"No- well, yeah, but nothing, nothing bad..." She said, voice timid. "It's just...He has to go away for a while. Doesn't know when he's going to be back."

"He can still call you...right?" I asked as the others began to gather around.

"Yeah, he can..."

"But it's not the same as him actually being here." Ebak finished for her. She nodded.

"Oh Mir, I'm sorry..." I said, even if the words didn't feel like nearly enough. "Do you know where he's gone to?"

I presume she shifted on her feet - it was hard to tell when someone's invisible.

"Genosha."

My body recoiled before my brain got into gear. Gambit had told me the story of when he, Storm and Jubilee had gotten enslaved there after they'd been lured by the island pretending to be a mutant haven. Unsurprisingly, he'd left a lot of details out on the retelling - like with Ber's previous life behind the Wall, I didn't pry into what had to be painful memories.

"Wait, Genosha?!" Ebak exclaimed. "Really?"

"He says it's been changing. Actually changing into a place for mutants that it was always meant to be." Miranda replied softly. "And that they need his help, so he has to be there for a while."

"I don't like to say it, Miranda," Ber said. "But makes sense Nightcrawler would go to help. He's both an obvious mutant and a person of God. Usually I would be very wary if a religious person was part of something like this. But I trust Kurt. He believes in the Christianity that matters, that is true to its teachings."

"And everyone needs at least some spirituality in their lives." I nodded. "In whatever form it takes." I ignored my brother's derisive snort.

"I'm sure he will be back before you know it." Ber smiled kindly. "And when he gets back, you two can spend a lot of time together to make up for it!"

Like you want to with Rogue? My mind suddenly piped up, but thankfully I managed to keep it to myself.

"Hey guys!" Lemming's voice made us turn to him standing in the doorway. He held up a video tape. "Who wants to pass time watching Jurassic Park?"

Glancing over to Jean, who had been watching our group curiously, I asked:

"Are you on call for this mission, or is it me?"

A small smile.

"I'm happy to be available so you can watch your movie, Shadow," she said.

"That- I really appreciate it." I smiled back at her. "I'll take over as soon as it's done. But if anything happens, just come get me, okay?"

"Of course. You go and enjoy yourselves."

With that, we took our leave, but I couldn't shake the bad feeling that had settled in the base of my stomach...

---

The communicator chirped just as I was getting to a good point in my book. Typical. Rolling my eyes, I tucked my bookmark into the page and turned to receive the call. Gambit's image flashed into view, blurring for a minute as the signal refocused. He grinned widely.

"Bonsoir chère!" Was what I thought he said - there was a lot of background noise, and I had to fiddle with a couple of audio settings. "-mission's done, Cyclops gonna debrief everyone when we get back, but Gambit thought he call ya sooner."

"That's very kind of you." I replied, arching an eyebrow. "You calling me from inside a blender, Cajun? What's the racket?"

That grin turned sheepish, and it took everything in me not to narrow my eyes at him.

"Ah, 'bout dat - Cyclops kinda blew up th' Blackbird."

"What."

"It's okay! We all got out fine! UN's here, we gettin' a lift back wit dem!" Gambit hurriedly added. "Be a while though, might not get back 'til late. Gonna have to put our romantic night on hold." He glanced back. "Gambit gotta go - tell ya more when I'm back. Love you!" He blew me a kiss before the comm cut.

It took...a while to digest what I'd heard. And I wasn't quite sure whether to have a break or a meltdown of the nervous or angry variety. They'd been gone just over two hours, and the Blackbird had blown up?!

I pinched the bridge of my nose, before I heard footsteps enter the War Room.

"Hey, Shad, you alright?" Myst hurried over to me.

"I...think so." I ground out, glancing up at him through the thick fringe of my hair. "So Gambit just called. They've captured Trask, I presume, but the Blackbird blew up."

"Oh." He grimaced. "That's...not great. Is everyone okay?"

"Apparently, and the UN is kindly shipping them back." I ran my hands down my face. "I just..."

"Doesn't feel that long you told him to be careful." Myst finished for me. We didn't acknowledge that we could have been there too.

"Yeah, exactly." I leant back in my chair. "Gambit says Cyclops blew the plane up, but you and I both know he wouldn't do that unless there was no other reason, or it was out of his control."

"I mean, yeah! Besides, Beast's gonna be pissed that it's gonna to have to be rebuilt again." Myst chuckled. "Did you always feel like he was glaring into the back of your head when you were in sims not to crash the plane, even when you knew you wouldn't damage it?"

"Oh god yeah, tell me about it!" I laughed. "Didn't stop El though, did it?"

"Nope, E just flies however he wants, damn the consequences! You should have seen the look on Scott's face on the last sim."

"Was that the one where he was trying to leave the plane flying whilst he teleported out?"

"Yeah. Didn't go so well."

"Figured as much." I folded my arms. "Her autopilot's a bit finicky - anything outside of a simple cruise and it'll wail, scream, and disconnect."

"No wonder Scott hand-flies it."

There was a pause.

"Any idea how long they'll be?" Asked Myst kindly.

"Considering they're coming from across the pond, they're gonna be a while." I sighed. "Doubt helicopters'll cross the sea, and I don't think the UN has the Concorde on speed-dial, so...many, many hours. Not including the debrief."

"I'm sorry, Shad." Myst's smile was sympathetic. "I'm sure Gambit will be home before you know it."

"Yeah, I know, it's just...like you said, feels like I just said 'goodbye and be careful', and then none of those things happened." I ran a hand through my hair, uttering a bitter laugh. "Guess I kinda know how Miranda's feeling right now." I glanced up at my friend. "Kurt ever tell you about it, by chance?"

"A little, but only that he was wondering if my portals could reach that far." Myst winced. "It'd be a struggle for sure, but the main problem is I don't really know Genosha. Trying to go to places like that makes the portal super unstable, and I don't wanna find out what happens if it collapses." He opened his hands helplessly. "The only one who could cross those distances reliably would be E."

"And I suppose Kurt isn't gonna ask Ebak to ping him back and forth just to see her." I leant back in my chair, grimacing. "Pretty sure El wouldn't mind, though. Gambit would be another matter."

"Yeah." Chuckled Myst. "Although I think he likes Gambit more than he lets on."

"I'll take your word for it." Was my mild response, remembering what I'd seen on the roof, of my brother turning murderous eyes on the Cajun. "Is that why you two gave him the safe?"

"Ah, only because E couldn't get into it." Myst grinned cheekily. "But it was worth it to see Gambit's powers in action."

"I'm sure." I smiled. The de-cored safe had been an interesting sight to behold, and I wished I'd seen him at work. Speaking of: "You guys got any further with those papers?"

"Dead end." Myst sighed. "We'd have to get more to be sure, and after our heist, Fisk's gonna go to ground for a bit."

"Damn, that's a bugger." I chewed my lip. Part of me hoped that with Master Mold destroyed (again) and Trask in custody, everything would be fine. But deep down, I knew there was something more to this. The Sentinel graveyard, unguarded. Gangsters putting their hands in anti-mutant technology. For all the government's song and dance about change, it seemed old hatreds continued to fester.

"Tell you what, Shad." Myst's words broke me out of my thoughts. "If they're gonna be a while heading back, why don't you come and join us? Ber and Lemming are cooking this evening, and E wants to break out Eldritch Horror." He smiled kindly. "It'll help your mind off it."

"Yeah, you're right." I nodded, climbing to my feet. "Hell, we might finish a game before they get home."

"That's what I was thinking." Myst's eyes twinkled. "C'mon, let's go."

---

It was the middle of the night when they returned. I'd gone to my room, and woke from deep sleep to feel a large, warm shape cautiously slide into bed beside me.

"Mrrr? Remy?" I slurred, cracking heavy eyes open to the darkness. A deep voice shushed me softly, equally soft lips pressing against my temple.

"Désolée, mon ombre." Remy murmured. "Didn' mean to wake you."

Released from my sleep paralysis, I rolled over to wrap my arms around him, burying my face into his chest and breathing him in. Sweat, dirt, sand and the ozone from lightning came to me; he must have come straight to me without pausing to wash. As more senses stirred, I heard the low hum of aching muscles and the contusions of combat his body murmured to me.

"Glad to see you home." I mumbled into his skin, his arms curling around me. "Missed you."

"Missed you too." He replied, kissing my head. "Go back to sleep, mon amour. Talk more in th' mornin'."

"Wait," I untucked my head from under his, reaching up to his cheeks, "lemme see your face first."

His chuckle was surprised, yet he let me take his head in my hands. My dark-adjusting eyes picked out the shape of his face and mop of hair, surrounding his beautiful glowing red eyes.

"Y' see Gambit all th' time." He was amused, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I don't wanna go to bed without you if I can help it." I said softly. "I could have lost you today."

Even in the darkness I saw him wince, a hand sliding on top of mine.

"Don't, chère." Remy said softly. "All came out okay."

We were too tired to argue. He was here with me, and that was enough for now - it was a bridge to cross another time.

"Love you, big man." I mumbled, lying back down with renewed memory of my Cajun's face.

"Je t'aime aussi, mon amour." He replied, curling his body around me, pulling me into his chest. "Fais de beux rêves."

And a beautiful sleep it was, now my Remy was safe and sound...

This was for him. This was for her.

The bullpen was just the same as it was back then, or at least how she remembered it. Agents littered the desks, all typing away feverishly. Women in smart trousers and sensible heels sipped coffee from to-go cups and men in dark suits carried paperwork, all determined and professional in demeanour. She scanned the room in awe, eyes settling on the door at the top of the steps, furthest to the left. With pride in her step, she walked towards the office.

A quick double knock earned her a stern but friendly “Come in.”

His office was surprisingly homely for someone with such a harsh reputation. Books filled the back wall bookshelf and pictures of a young boy littered his desk. A large brown couch seated itself along the opposite wall and the cheese plant in desperate need of some water almost made her chuckle. She directed eyes back to the man looking up at her from the desk covered in paperwork.

“Hi, Agent Hotchner. Agent Annabel Finch.” She put her hand out for him to shake. “I’m supposed to start today?”

“Agent Finch! Yes you are. Please, come in. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Agent Hotchner took her hand and shook it firmly, his face warming to a smile. “I’ve read so many amazing things about your work with the Crimes Against Children Unit. Agent Cole gave you a glowing recommendation.”

Anna could feel blush slipping into her cheeks. Praise had always been her weakness.

“Thank you, Sir! Working with Katie has been such a wonderful experience, she’s an incredible mentor, and friend. I’m so excited to join the team at the BAU. I’ve kept up with the work you do here and honestly, I can’t believe that I get to be a part of it now.”

A knock at the door disrupted Anna from her inevitable tangent about how much she admired the agents of this unit. Stood with an apologetic smile and a wad of files in her arm was a woman who looked incredibly out of place in a government building.

“Sorry, I’ve interrupted,” she grimaced. “Sir, we have a case.” Anna shot her a sweet smile as their eyes met.

“Hi! Penelope Garcia! Technical Analyst!” The stack of bangles on her wrist sung as she gave Anna an enthusiastic wave. “You must be the new girl!”

“Garcia, this is Agent Annabel Finch. She’ll be joining the team. Tell the rest to gather in the roundtable room, we’ll be there shortly.”

Garcia nodded and smiled again at Anna, awkwardly stepping backwards out of the room and closing the door. Grateful that her first interaction, albeit a very brief one, with another team member went well, she exhaled and shot another smile at Agent Hotchner. “I really appreciate the opportunity to work with this team, Sir. You have no idea what this means to me.”

Agent Hotchner’s face softened once again, stacking his papers and getting up from his seat to open the door for her.

“Agent Finch, this team is lucky to have you. Welcome.”

Whilst she had been in the office, the other team members had gathered around a desk in the middle of the bullpen. As soon as Agent Hotcher stepped out of the threshold, they scattered, quickly moving in different directions as to not seem suspicious. Agent Hotchner said nothing but the smirk on his face told Anna that their childlike curiousness was not uncommon. As she walked along side him towards a small conference room, the other end of the balcony, she couldn't help but feel her chest swell with pride.

The roundtable room had a sweet smell of stale coffee. She looked around at the room, a little couch sat under the big windows, a giant projector mounted on the wall in front of her, and a large, unsurprisingly, round table with seven chairs sat in the middle of the room. The team filed in through the opposite door and she felt a wave of insecurity wash over her as they all curiously stared at the new addition to their team.

“Everyone, this is SSA Annabel Finch, the newest member of the team. She will be starting today. Agent Finch, these are Agents Morgan, Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid. And you’ve already met our Technical Analyst, Penelope Garcia.”

The team waved their hellos and smiled politely, nodding their heads. Anna looked along the line of agents, taking in the team that she would be working so closely with for the next however-many years.

“Please, call me Anna. It’s an honour to be able to work with all of you.” Agent Morgan was an impressive man, a tight t shirt hugging his bicep muscles as he sipped a mug of coffee. Agent Prentiss looked like everything Anna wanted to be in an agent. Her badass demeanour seeped out of every pore. Agent Jareau’s beaming smile was what Anna noticed next, the short blonde woman’s kindness radiated off of her like sunshine. Next was Dr Spencer Reid. His lips pressed in as he gave Anna a shy wave. He was undoubtably attractive, his floppy brown hair fell haphazardly over his forehead and she could feel the golden warmth from his eyes from the other side of the room. His satchel draped over his shoulder and the dark brown sweater vest sat awkwardly over his frame. She smiled back at him and could've sworn she’d seen him blush. Cute, she thought. From behind her she heard an old, familiar voice. The corners of her lips slid into a smile as she turned around with her arms open. “So the rumours are true! Little Annabear, all grown up and in the BAU.” David’s big arms engulfed her in a hug and she breathed in his familiar scent.

“You guys know each other?” Agent Morgan chuckled as he witnessed the reunion going on in front of him.

“I knew this girl before she was even born,” David beamed. Caught up in the moment of seeing an old friend, Anna had almost forgotten the part of the introductions she was most scared about. Knowing she was going to have to explain her history to the team filled her with anxiety. She knew she had worked her ass off to be here. They don’t allow anyone to join the BAU just for the sake of it. She had five years of experience with the Crimes Against Children’s unit, as well as an impressive amount of qualifications from her years and years of schooling, but the nagging feeling that everyone would think this job was simply handed to her had been keeping her up at night since she sent in her application. “Uh, my father was SSA Harrison Finch. Along with Agents Rossi and Gideon, he helped establish the BAU, or the BSU, as it was then called.” Anna chuckled. She had always found the then appropriate acronym, in the opinion of the other members of the bureau at the time, “BSU” a little bit funny.

The room was quiet for a second, the agents processing this interesting information, before an unlikely voice spoke, his words coming at her so fast she almost couldn’t process.

“No way! I’ve read all of your father’s books! I find the way he applied methods to analyse possible patterns of behaviour and traits common in certain types of criminals so fascinating, he was such a unique thinker for his time! I’d love to sit down with you at some point and talk about his work with -“

“Reid!” He was cut off by the strict voice of Agent Hotcher as he gave the young doctor a knowing glare. “You’ll have plenty of time to discuss anything with Agent Finch, she’s not going anywhere. Right now we need to focus on the case. Garcia?” The agents took their seats around the table as Anna shot Dr. Reid an apologetic smile, making a mental reminder to continue this conversation another time. Anna was more than happy to brag about her fathers achievements, and there was something incredibly endearing about the way Dr. Reid’s eyes lit up when he was clearly so enthusiastic about something.

“Okay crimefighters, you are off to Austin, Texas.” Garcia began to give information about the case as Anna flipped though the case file on the table in front of her. “Three bodies, all male, white, between the ages of thirty five to thirty eight, have been found in alleyways this past month. Cause of death was asphyxiation by strangulation, as you can see by the bruising on the throats.” The dark words didn’t seem right coming from the mouth of someone so bubbly as Penelope Garcia, and Anna could tell by the look on her face, and the way she was changing the slides on the projector with the remote over her shoulder to avoid looking at the gruesome images, that this definitely wasn’t a part of the job she was particularly comfortable with.

“Do we have IDs on the victims?” Agent Prentiss asked, her eyes squinting at the screen.

“First two yes. Victim number one, Mitchell Gordon, thirty five, from Tampa, Florida. He works as an accountant. Friends say he was on a work trip in Austin.”

A photo appeared on screen of a young, brunette man. The blue background of the drivers licence photo matched the colour of his eyes.

“Victim number two,” a second photo flashed onto the screen beside Mitchell’s. “Paul Clayton, thirty seven, from Los Angeles, California. According to his wife, he was in Austin for a bachelor’s party but local detectives have yet to locate said bachelor and other party goers. M.E is still working on an ID for the last victim.”

Anna stared at the photos on the projector, specifically the photos of the bodies. All victims were faced down, fully clothed, and a purple handkerchief stuck out of the left back pocket of all three pairs of dark washed jeans.

“Was Mitchell Gordon also married?” Anna asked. Every face at the table looked at her, not expecting the new girl to pipe in with her thoughts so quickly. “He was indeed,” Garcia replied. “Recently too. He and his wife, Clara Gordon, married six months ago. Anna took a deep breath in, glad her suspicion was confirmed.

“Whatcha thinking, Kid?” David asked her. The faces of the other team members stayed on her as she answered his question.

“The handkerchiefs in the back pockets. In the 1970s the Handkerchief Code was widely used by gay and bisexual men who were seeking casual sex. It was especially prominent in the BDSM communities. It was a system of colour coded cloth handkerchiefs for non-verbally communicating one's interests in sexual activities and fetishes. The colour of the handkerchief identifies a particular activity, and the pocket it is worn in identifies the wearer's preferred role in that activity. I’m pretty sure a purple handkerchief in the left pocket indicated that a person was in a heterosexual relationship but was seeking out a homosexual hookup, partaking a, uh, passive role, in the relationship.”

Anna blushed, not even her first hour into the job and she was already discussing bottoming in gay relationships.

She continued, “It’s unlikely that these men would’ve been actively partaking in using the handkerchief code seeing as its no longer popular in the modern era. We could be looking at an older unsub who was around when it was popular and would be more familiar with it, using the code to send some kind of message. Maybe an attempt to out the men cheating on their wives?”

The room was, once again, quiet. Anna noticed an impressed look on the agents’ faces. Directly on her left, she could feel Dr. Reid’s eyes boring a hole into the side of her head. She took a quick glance in his direction and noticed a look of admiration as a smile creeped onto his face. “We should test to see if the pieces of cloth all come from the same piece of fabric.” She trailed off, suddenly nervous she had said the wrong thing or been too confident in her analysis.

Her anxieties were eased by Agent Hotchner’s voice.

“I’ll let the forensic team know we need a fibre analysis done ASAP. We should get going. Three killings in a month, this guy isn’t slowing down. Wheels up in thirty.”

And with that, the agents began putting away their files and heading to the door, all caught up in the information that had just been presented. Anna did the same, shuffling to her feet and shoving the file in the bag she flung over her shoulder.

~~~

From: Harry Styles 11:24PM

Are we sleeping at mine tonight?

As soon as the text lit up your phone screen, you flipped it face down onto the table. You were currently mashed into the corner of a booth at your favorite bar, trying to pay attention to the story one of your friends was telling to you. Every once in a while, you’d glance up and catch Harry’s stare, which would immediately send a familiar tingle down your spine. 

“Are you listening to me?” Meredith prodded your arm.

“What? Yes, of course,” you lied, nodding enthusiastically. In reality, there was no way you could focus on anything but Harry’s presence just a few short feet away.

You were surprised that he’d texted you. When you’d first shown up to the bar, you’d spotted him chatting up some random petite blonde on the dance floor, and you’d barely looked his way since, hating the way jealousy tugged at your heartstrings. Even now, with the girl nowhere in sight, you were having a difficult time acknowledging him. 

He wasn’t yours to claim, he never had been, but the two of you had started… a routine, for lack of better word. It had started on a night where he offered to drive you home. You’d all been hanging out at Nick’s place, swimming in his pool and drinking chilled wine, and Harry had insisted on giving you a lift since your apartments were so close together. By the time you’d made it to your place, it was dark and he was tired. You offered to let him stay over, which resulted in the two of you cuddling in your twin sized bed.

Nothing else had happened apart from that, but it had felt… good, being that close to another person. Apparently he felt the same way, because more often than not, you wound up drifting off in his arms, sprawled across his chest, listening to his light snores. You hadn’t discussed it at all, but it was starting to affect you in ways you wish it wouldn’t. 

To: Harry Styles 11:29PM

yeah

You saw him subtly check his phone in his lap, twisting the screen away from Thomas, the friend sitting next to him, being just as secretive as you. Your friends didn’t need to know that you cuddled on the regular, I mean, how would you even justify that? You weren’t sleeping together, hadn’t even done so much as kiss. It was just your body against his, and his against yours.

You wondered if he hooked up with other girls on the few nights that you hadn’t been able to meet up. Were the hands that traced circles into your back while you slept running over somebody else’s body? His lips, the same ones that brushed along the back of your neck as he held you from behind, had they pressed against another’s in your absence?

From: Harry Styles 11:30PM

sick :)

You flitted your gaze up to meet his once again, rolling your eyes when you saw the slight smirk on his face. He giggled, covering it up with a cough, before looking away once again. 

“So Harry,” Jessie, one of your friends on the other end of the booth piped up, “saw you flirting with that girl earlier. You gonna take her home?”

This seemed to gather the attention of the group, as everyone quieted to hear his response. Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but where you were sat. You couldn’t look at him, either, so you stared at your lap instead, picking at a loose thread on your dress. 

“Don’t think so, no,” he choked out.

Thomas let out a groan, throwing his head back in exasperation. “Why not mate? Saw her give you her number. If I had a pretty thing like her interested in me, I’d have already done her three times over in the toilet!”

The group all laughed, and even Harry let out a little chuckle, but you could tell he felt uncomfortable.

“I dunno,” he shrugged with faux nonchalance, “I’ve been working a lot lately, don’t really have the energy for that kind of thing.”

You tried to zone out after that, but it was impossible to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. You could feel Harry looking at you, but you were still too busy playing with the thread on your dress. You only looked up when your phone buzzed harshly against the wooden surface of the table. 

From: Harry Styles 11:48PM

I’m ready to leave whenever

You felt relief course through you. You liked seeing everyone and catching up, but you liked being alone with him more. You cleared your throat, sliding your phone into your pocket and clutching the strap of your purse closer. 

“Hey guys, I think I’m gonna head out,” you said, putting on your best sad smile as the group groaned and begged you to stay, “I’m just feeling so wiped, was a really long week.”

As you managed to squeeze out of the booth, you made promises to see everyone soon and set up plans. You didn’t feel guilty about bailing so early, especially since you saw this group practically every weekend. 

“Think I’m gonna go, too,” you heard Harry say. Another chorus of groans sounded from the group. “May as well share a car, yeah?”

“Sure,” you nodded, playing it up for the group, “may as well.”

The moment you and Harry stepped outside the bar, it was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It hadn’t been a complete lie when you’d said that it had been a long week, and really all you wanted to do was curl up under Harry’s arm and close your eyes. 

He was quiet as you waited at the curb, checking his phone every few seconds to see if the car he ordered was any closer. For some reason, you felt awkward standing next to him, which was unusual considering how calm he normally made you feel. You felt like your tongue was made of stone, like you might stutter if you tried to speak. You don’t even know what you’d say anyway. 

Your hands tugged the sides of your jackets tighter together as a bitter wind ripped through the night, forcing you to hunch your back over and clench your teeth together. Harry must have felt it too, because the moment the breeze let up, he shuffled closer to you so your upper arms were pressed together. It was such a simple gesture, but you felt yourself warm up from his thoughtfulness alone. 

When the car finally arrived, Harry guided you in before him with a soft brush of his hand on your waist. You couldn’t wait until it was placed there more firmly, maybe slid up under your shirt to press directly onto your skin, the calluses of his fingertips scratching against you in the most delightful way. You let out a quiet sigh at the thought. 

You worried your lip between your teeth as the car started to move, training your eyes out the window. You only looked over at Harry when he cleared his throat.

“So, um,” he said in a shaky voice, “I’m sorry for what they all said in there.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, cocking your head slightly. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

He seemed taken aback by your question, but you thought it was a fair one to ask. Sure, you’d hated hearing your friends joke about Harry’s sex life, but that was on you, those were your feelings. Harry wasn’t in charge of them. As much as you wished that he was your boyfriend, he wasn’t, and probably never would be. 

“Well, you looked really uncomfortable, I guess…,” he trailed off, “and we’re, like, y’know….”

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, hands helplessly fluttering in his lap. He clearly had no idea what to say. Maybe he was feeling just as confused as you were. 

“We cuddle sometimes,” you finished for him. 

“Right,” he nodded, “yeah. We cuddle sometimes. And that girl… I only took her number to be nice, honest.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked him after a pause, feeling your hands grow clammy. You wiped your palms on your bare legs, wishing you could skip to the part of the night where you were both on the cusp of sleep. 

He let out a sigh, finally turning away to peer out of his window. “I don’t know.”

~~~

You watched with red cheeks as Harry pushed the topsheet away from his bare chest. He was stretching, the kind of stretch that had him groaning, and you just couldn’t tear your eyes away. As soon as he looked your way, you practically broke your neck trying to hide your gawking. 

“You can look, y’know,” he chuckled. You knew without having to look that he had an infuriatingly handsome smirk on his face. “I look at you sometimes, too.”

“Whatever,” you groaned, sliding out from under the covers. You winced when your bare feet hit the cold wooden floor of Harry’s bedroom. “You normally wear a shirt, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “I woke up at like, four in the morning, sweating bullets. You’re like a bloody space heater, you know that?”

With your back still turned to him, you rubbed your eyes harshly. Bright sunlight was leaking into the room through his closed blinds, which meant that you slept later than usual. Typically, you were up before the sun.

“I’ve never heard you complain before,” you mused, padding towards his ensuite bathroom. You heard the rustle of sheets and the creak of the mattress behind you, so you knew that Harry was following you. 

Just as you had a routine for going to sleep, the two of you had a routine for mornings. While nighttime was all about being quiet, soft touches and sleepy sighs, mornings with Harry were full of pep and banter. You’d take your time getting out of bed, reluctantly pulling away from some giggly cuddling, before brushing your teeth together and making breakfast. Sometimes you’d go for a jog or watch part of a movie before going your separate ways. It was perfectly domestic. 

Harry had been your friend for a long time. He wasn’t necessarily your best friend, but he was the easiest for you to read. You got along well. You had good chemistry. That’s what made mornings so easy.

“Never complained before ‘cause I like when you lay on top of me,” he snickered, grabbing his toothbrush from the cup by the sink. You had a toothbrush there too, something Harry hadn’t thought twice about when you started sleeping over. 

“Of course you do,” you rolled your eyes, snatching the toothpaste from his hand before he could use it.

“Yeah, I especially like when you lay on top of me,” he paused, leaning in close to whisper, “when you’re not wearing a bra.”

“Fuck off!” You giggled, your voice garbled from the toothbrush in your mouth. You made eye contact with him in the mirror, snorting when he wiggled his eyebrows. You jokingly brought an arm up to cover your chest, though it was hardly visible through the band t-shirt you’d stolen from his drawers. 

Harry jammed his toothbrush into his mouth just as you leaned over to spit in the sink. You cupped your hands under the faucet and slurped to rinse out your mouth, flicking water at Harry’s bare chest when you were finished. 

“Put a shirt on,” you told him, “I’m gonna go put on a pot of coffee.”

“Yes, dear,” he said sarcastically through a foamy mouth, brushing his free hand down the front of his chest to wipe away the water. 

You scrunched your face at him before leaving him to his own devices. You wished that everything with Harry could be this simple; just you and him, soft banter, no pressure. But you knew better; keeping your antics a secret from your friends meant toning it down. The closeness you felt with him was reserved exclusively for when you were alone.

One of your favorite things about sleeping at Harry’s house was his kitchen. While the rest of his house was modern, tall windows, white walls, and hard lines, the kitchen reminded you of home. Vintage-style appliances were lined up on the counter space next to a gas stove, a colorful tiled backsplash catching the light from the window above the sink. The floor was a simple gray linoleum, a drastic change from the expensive carpeting that blanketed most of his other rooms. 

What stood out to you most was his assemblage of coffee. He had dedicated an entire cabinet for his collection of grounds, most picked up from local shops while he traveled. You randomly grabbed for one of the bags, peering down to see that you’d picked a Jamaican dark roast. It smelled delightful, so you quickly shuffled over to his french press.

Harry stumbled into the kitchen just as you were taking the kettle off the stove, inhaling deeply before sighing contently. You noticed that he’d ignored your request to put a shirt on. He threw himself onto one of the wooden benches that lined his kitchen table, letting his eyes follow you as you darted around to find clean mugs. After huffing upon seeing his empty cabinet, you threw open the dishwasher, pulling out a plain red mug, and another that read Grand Teton National Park in bold lettering. 

“Would it kill you to put your dishes away?” You nagged, preparing his coffee the way he liked it. “I ran this load four days ago.”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee as you settled into the bench across from him. “This is the same coffee I drank when I wrote my first album.”

“It’s really good,” you complimented, taking a large gulp of your own cup. It was scalding hot, but you didn’t really mind the way it burned your tongue. “I might order some for myself.”

“You can’t,” he grinned, “It’s not mass produced, I found it at this little coffee house in the next town over from the studio we were in. Was owned by the cutest little old lady, had the thickest accent I’ve ever heard. Could barely make out what she was saying, but she was nice.”

You hummed, watching his eyes glaze over as he spoke about the memory. It was moments like this that reminded you of how little you really knew him. Generally, he refrains from talking about himself in any amount of detail, so having him open up about his experiences was a rarity. You were almost afraid to ask any follow-up questions, but your curiosity won out.

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” You said quietly. “It sounds like you loved it there.”

“Maybe, I don’t know really,” he shrugged, peering into his mug as he spoke. “I liked recording at Shangri La just as much.”

You snorted, trying not to let your drink spill as you shook with laughter. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you loved it,” you giggled, “you were on psychedelics the entire time.”

He smirked, but didn’t respond, instead hoisting himself up to his feet and sliding over to the fridge. He held it open long enough for the chill to blow over you, and you shivered slightly, wishing you’d put your bra back on before breakfast.

“Should we have scrambled eggs again?” Harry mused. “Otherwise I’ve got the makings for pancakes.”

“Eggs are fine,” you hummed, moving next to him to top up your coffee. “Can you mix in veggies like you did on Wednesday?”

“Ooh, yes,” he nodded, reaching further into his fridge to pull out half of a tomato and a ripe avocado. “Could do some sausages as well.”

“Sausages?” You questioned. “You’re vegetarian, H.”

“Yeah, but you mentioned the other day that you like them a lot, so I picked some up on my trip to the shops yesterday,” he shrugged, “I don’t mind whipping up some up, I’m using the stove anyway.”

You slumped against the counter, muttering out a quiet sure. When he was sweet like this, it was hard not to fall further into your feelings. He’d thought of you at the grocery store because of some comment you’d made in passing, and he’d spent money on food that he wouldn’t even eat. 

You wanted to kiss him, wrap your arms around him, whisper your appreciation into his skin. You wanted to hold him from behind while he drizzled oil into a frying pan, and most of all, you wanted him to be yours.

But he wasn’t yours, so you excused yourself to the bathroom instead. 

He was just out of your reach, because while you got to sleep in his bed, wear his t-shirt, and make him coffee in the morning, you didn’t have his heart. He was right in front of you, but he was untouchable. And that’s what stung most of all.

~~~

You’d been weird throughout the entirety of breakfast, but it didn’t seem like Harry noticed. You were overly conscious of your proximity to him, and you couldn’t look at him without looking at his chest, so you chose to not glance in his direction at all. Whereas you’d normally take your time getting ready at his house, you rushed out the moment your plate was clean, and showered at your apartment rather than his. 

You felt crazy, like maybe you shouldn’t have had such a strong reaction to a package of frozen sausages, but you couldn’t control it. It just solidified what you already knew: you fancied Harry.

Even hours later, as you sat on your couch in the dark with a giant bowl of popcorn, you were still thinking about how he’d looked as he flipped the meat over in the pan with a spatula, wincing when the hot oil spit at his bare skin. 

The movie playing on your computer screen in front of you had long since been forgotten, pushed to the back burner of your mind by memories of what it felt like to be around Harry. Daydreams about what it would it would be like to be with him fully. Even if you started paying attention to the film now, you missed enough that it wouldn’t make any sense. 

Solo movie nights were one of your favorite things. Normally, it’d be enough to take your mind off of what was plaguing you, but tonight it wasn’t doing the trick. Perhaps later you’d try soaking in a bubble bath to truly relax.

You heard your phone ping from the other room, and you groaned as you heaved yourself off of the couch to retrieve it. People didn’t text you often, so you figured it was probably your mother texting you to complain that you hadn’t called her. She did this every so often, checking in to make sure you were happy. 

When you saw that it was a notification from Harry, you felt your heartbeat pick up in excitement. Your thumb swiped against it before you even thought about it, opening the text message with a level of giddiness you hadn’t felt in ages. 

From: Harry Styles 7:07PM

You forgot something this morning…

You raised your eyebrows, trying to think back to what you might’ve forgotten. A quick glance towards the front entryway told you that your purse was here. Just as you went to type a response, another text came through. 

From: Harry Styles 7:08PM

You choked on your own saliva once the picture finished loading, coughing into your elbow several times. Once you straightened up, you locked your phone, unable to look out of pure mortification. 

“Fuck,” you wheezed.

Out of all the things you had to forget, it was your bra, and out of all the bras you could have chosen to wear, you chose your raciest one. You felt your forehead start to sweat, and it was a good thing that you were alone because surely your entire face was flushed. 

To: Harry Styles 7:12PM

I left it on purpose, thought it would look great on you. You’re welcome.

You exhaled heavily as you sent your response, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to tell how flustered he just made you. Three little dots appeared almost instantly, indicating that he was typing, so you locked your phone and brought it back over to the couch, ignoring it when it pinged again. You didn’t want to seem too desperate, even though you knew it was ridiculous.

From: Harry Styles 7:13PM

How very thoughtful of you. Maybe we’ll have to model it for each other, see who wears it best.

You bit your lips to keep the smile from creeping up your cheeks. It felt like he was flirting with you, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. 

To: Harry Styles 7:15PM

I’ve seen you in black lace before, Mr. Met Gala. I’d say it suits you.

From: Harry Styles: 7:15PM

I’ve never seen you in black lace, but I’m definitely imagining it now….

You gulped, letting your fingers hover over the keyboard as you thought about your next response. This could very easily turn into something less innocent, but would that make things weird later? He was the one who started the conversation, but you were egging him on.

The three dots appeared again before you even formulated a response.

From: Harry Styles 7:16PM

I’ve got a shit imagination so you’ll have to tell me… is there a matching pair of knickers?

You could picture it perfectly, Harry sitting in his living room with his phone resting on his thigh, smirking as he waited for you to start typing. Maybe he was wearing nothing but a set of boxers, the record player on his bookshelf playing some slow rock ballad from the 80’s. 

Or maybe he was in bed, with nothing on, hand shoved between his legs at the thought of you in sheer back panties. You rubbed your thighs together at the mere thought. 

To: Harry Styles 7:18PM

Maybe so… 

His response was immediate.

From: Harry Styles 7:18PM

You’re killing me.

From: Harry Styles 7:18PM

:)

It was just innocent flirting. That’s what you told yourself, at least. 

Because how could it be anything else? Harry, with the world at his fingertips, couldn’t feel the same way as you did. Even though he held you snugly throughout the night, he didn’t speak to you much when you were out with your friends. He never sat next to you, laughed at your jokes, or danced with you on the dance floor. 

You put your phone on silent before tossing it onto the coffee table.

Just as you thought, you had no idea what was going on in the movie, having missed the entire middle part. You watched anyway, sighing heavily once the end credits started to roll. Unable to control yourself, you checked your phone.

From: Harry Styles 8:02PM

Are we sleeping at mine tonight?

You should have told him that you couldn’t, that maybe the two of you needed some space. You should have put your phone on Do Not Disturb, and soaked in the bath for the rest of the night. But you didn’t.

To: Harry Styles 8:04PM

Of course. See you soon

You couldn’t.

With your heart in your throat and your head in the clouds, you slipped on your shoes, picked your purse up off of the floor, and drove to Harry’s.

~~~

As always, if you made it this far, thank you! Feel free to leave me a message about your thoughts, questions, concerns... anything! Till tomorrow,