A Fish, a Bear, and a Lion Walk into a Bar

Finn always felt a little guilty when Leo left him dinner on the stove on his late nights or weekend workdays (“You work so hard at your job, and it’s no trouble”). But he couldn’t apologize without explaining that he wasn’t spending all that overtime working on his job, not really. His office just had more resources for tracking someone down, so he tended to do his personal projects there too. Well, just one personal project. The one he had been working on since graduating college.

Finding Milo… or whatever his name actually was.

Finn had considered that maybe Milo didn’t want to be found many times, but he kept coming back to the look on his face when Finn didn’t know he was saying his last goodbye. The desperation unusually evident in guarded green eyes that Finn had uneasily justified as knowing that they would be moving out of each other’s pockets for the first time in a while soon. It wasn’t his choice to go, to completely disappear from the face of the earth. Finn could just feel it. He tried to chalk it up to finely honed journalistic instinct. On most days, he succeeded in that denial, but there were some where he woke up expecting warmth at his side, finding none, and knowing that he would do anything in his power to get it back. What else do you do when you’ve met your soulmate?

But there were moments in Finn’s life now that made him question his self-imposed mission. Moments when Leo left him a handwritten note next to something delicious smelling that only needed a few minutes of heating, when they sat on opposite ends of the couch and didn’t hold back their reactions to their respective books, when Leo smiled at him over the rim of a coffee mug. Maybe his life didn’t need to stop just because Lo was gone. But how could he let go of the project that he had been working on for 7 years?

Since they were boys, Finn and Logan had been hiding out in the alcove in the trees by the Merrylakes’ field. They had stumbled upon it out of pure necessity, running from some other kids who decided it would be fun to practice fencing with sticks and defenseless opponents. It had seemed to open up just for them to dive in, and everyone else ran past none the wiser. That magic, luck, or whatever you believe in was preserved as they grew, as anything they left there was exactly how they found it when they returned. If they were paying a little bit more attention to their surroundings than just each other, they might have also noticed how it grew in size with them. It became the witness of existential musing, hushed secrets, uncontrollable laughter, and heart-hammering confessions.

Now, a Finn of 9 and 10 years was sitting leaned back against his hands in the moss and staring up at the pinking sky through the feathery leaves of the tall bushes that kept him hidden from all but one (and the stars, of course). He tried to revel in the peace that this place brought him, but it did not work quite as well when the weight of the small box in his pocket felt as if it belonged to a sizable cube of lead. There was at least some comfort in his preparations for the evening. The picnic basket at his feet contained all of Logan’s favorites plus the sweetest bottle of champagne they had in the shop. Finn was ready… he just didn’t know if Logan was too.

He started at the rustle of leaves behind him, but had not even turned around before, “Just me, Fish,” reached his ears. As if it could be anyone else. Finn did not have to understand or even believe in magic to be certain of that.

Finn’s nerves eased and flared at the same time, but he could never not smile at the presence of his love, “Hello, mo fhíorghra.”

Nose wrinkling as he sat down, Logan chuckled, “As I keep telling you-”

“Yes, yes, French pet names are far superior because they sound soooo much prettier.”

“What? You don’t agree, mon coeur?” Logan moved closer and Finn felt his face heat. “Mon cherí,” his voice lowered, “mon amour.”

Finn pushed his face away, laughing, “Yeah, yeah, I concede,” but he pulled Logan right back in to kiss him firmly. “I love you, bear.”

“I love you too, fish.” Logan pressed their foreheads together for a touch longer than usual before turning to the basket. “So, what did you bring for me?”

Grateful for the distraction, Finn launched into descriptions of each item as if he was presenting before a king and laid out the meal. When they were almost too full to move and the sun had fully set, he lit the candles and popped the champagne. He almost spilled his glass watching the bubbles pop under the shine of Logan’s eyes in the flickering light.

Half-finished, Logan’s glass was set on the rock behind him. “D’accord, let me give you your anniversary present now.” He pulled out a box from his pocket and Finn’s heart almost leapt from his chest.

No, it was the wrong shape. He did not know whether to be relieved that he could still enact his plan or be disappointed that they had not been on the same wavelength, as they almost always were. Those feelings were dismissed as soon as he opened the box to see a necklace whose pendant was a triquetra knot with a fleur-de-lis in the middle, all wrought in shining silver. “Oh, Logan…” Finn felt tears prick his eyes.

“I made it in Papa’s shop. Had to get his help of course—it was pretty tricky—but look! You can put the flower from your mom in the band here.” And sure enough, the band of the fleur-de-lis extended out to create just enough space to slot the stem of the flower through to rest over the pendant. Logan was one of the few people that knew the truth of Finn’s mother—or at least, the truth that Finn knew. The snowdrop that she had given to his dad was kept tucked away in a jewelry case, but Ramsey caught little Finn sneaking in to stare at it enough times that he promised the flower would be his if he could keep it safe and hidden. He had kept it inside a hollowed book on his bedside table ever since. Finn was not quite sure why he had to hide it, but he trusted his father.

“Lo, I cannot- this means- thank you, thank you so much.” Tears were rolling down Finn’s face as Logan fastened the necklace on him, but he did not care, tackling Logan to the ground and smothering him with kisses.

“You are so welcome, rouge,” Logan was smiling, but his eyes were bright too.

Finn sat back up suddenly and started fumbling to get the box out of his pocket. His chest could not even begin to contain all of the emotions flooding through him, and all the carefully planned words had fled his brain, “My love, you are everything to me, and I can no longer wait for our future together, I-” Finn’s hand froze in his pocket when he saw Logan flinch. “What is it?”

Logan said nothing, only turned his head away.

The flood in his body was freezing glacier water. “Lo, what is going on?”

“I did not want to tell you this on our anniversary.”

“Bear, you are scaring me.”

Logan finally faced him again. His hands were trembling, and tears had spilled onto his cheeks. Shakily, “I thought I could hold myself together for one last perfect night, at least.” His self-deprecating laugh held no joy, and he took Finn’s hands. “I will be leaving for France in two weeks.” He paused, but Finn could say nothing. “I am to start an apprenticeship under the royal jewelers.”

“What? I do not understand. I thought you would take over your father’s business here… and we could-”

“I was chosen. This-” Logan’s eyes flashed in anger through the tears, and the next word came out through gritted teeth, “opportunity cannot be refused.”

“Says bloody who!?” Finn blew up.

“Says the king!” Logan glared.

“Oh, yeah? What is he going to do about it from fucking France?”

“He could shut down Papa’s business, Finn! It does not matter where he is—one bad word, and no one will ever buy from the Tremblays again, even in the damn English countryside. Not to even mention my family still in France.”

Finn felt the fight leave him as quickly as it came. “You really are leaving.” He met Logan’s eyes, which had softened as well, “for how long?”

“I do not know for sure. Papa told me these apprenticeships last longer than normal, five years… at minimum.”

Five years. In five years, Finn had thought they would be married and living in a house of their own, somewhere in town halfway between their respective family shops. Maybe they would have a pet, maybe even a child. Now, in five years, Logan may not even be in the same country. “And after your apprenticeship, will you come back?”

“I might be able to come back,” Logan took a shuddering breath, “but if I am chosen as a royal jeweler…”

“Then never.” To think, the tears on his face mere minutes ago were those of joy.

“Finn-”

“I’ll come with you,” Finn interjected.

“Rouge, no, you have your father’s shop. With Alex away at university, he needs you.” Logan cast his eyes down, “And besides, you would grow to resent me.” He kept speaking over Finn’s sound of protest, “I would take you away from your family, your home. The travel to Paris alone would use up all your savings—and for what? I will be living in the apprentice quarters spending all of my time learning and working. We would hardly ever see each other.”

The faint outlines of hope on the plans that Finn had been hastily thinking up were fading quickly. Logan had to go. Finn could not. Logan would be chosen as a royal jeweler (how could he not?) and live in Paris for the rest of his life. Finn would never see him again.

He had been planning to propose tonight.

“Fish,” Finn looked up to see Logan crying in earnest, “you have to know that I do not want to leave you. I have tried to think of alternatives, but I see no other way.”

Whatever was left of Finn crumbled, “I know that, mo fhíorghra.” He pulled Logan into him.

“I made you the necklace so that you would always have a piece of me with you. Please do not ever take it off,” Logan pleaded.

“It will stay against my heart forever,” Finn murmured into Logan’s hair. He wanted to give Logan something too, but pulling out the ring would only make both of them feel worse. He pulled back from Logan and retrieved his lucky coin from his coat pocket. He had found the strange coin while playing near the wall with Alex years ago and put it in his pocket every day since. Something about the seemingly innocuous piece of metal called to him, and it felt like good enough of a token. “Take this. To remember me by and bring you luck.”

Logan took it from his hand and pressed it to his lips, “I will never need aid to remember you,” but he tucked it into his pocket anyway. Finn opened his mouth, but Logan hurried to add, “I just want to enjoy the time we have left.”

There was still more Finn wanted to say, but Logan wanted to drop it. Besides, he could hardly think anymore, and the reality of the situation had not fully sunk in. “Stay here for the rest of the night?” Logan nodded, and Finn laid his head down on his lover’s lap.

Somehow, they had not carved a divot into the edge of the dancefloor circling each other as they had been since Logan first saw an unmistakable flash of blonde curls under strobing club lights. This time Leo had dyed her roots red and blended it into her natural blonde like fire. It was hard to tell if it was that or the way her dress hugged every one of her curves perfectly that had drawn so many eyes. Logan would have been worried that at least one person would note the strangeness of their shark-like path if she didn’t already know how disoriented and befuddled humans got when they encountered demons on the mortal plane. They could recognize that something was weird and out-of-place, but it felt like the effects of a drug or something like vertigo to look at them too long; besides, it’s too easy to dismiss your perception going wonky for a bit as anything really.

Still, she didn’t have to make it even harder for everyone by looking like that. At least none of those mortals were making direct eye contact with her like Logan was. When bodies blocked their line of vision, Leo was always unerringly looking right back at her when the way cleared again, and Logan had to suppress the urges to flinch.

But it was better than losing vigilance for the fraction-of-a-second needed for Leo take advantage of her mistake. And Logan wasn’t making any more mistakes.

~

What. A. Bitch. Leo had just been trying to feed on the hedonism of queer San Franciscan night life; so naturally, Logan had to show up and ruin her night. Did Heaven ever consider that maybe things would go a bit smoother for them if they didn’t deliberately try to provoke her with the angel that betrayed her most?

However, the biggest betrayal was the way her body still reacted to Logan’s presence. At least she could pretend to blame the heat in her core and shiver in her limbs on her mortal form. Leo would only allow herself to indulge in it for so long, and that time limit was coming up. All she had to do was break eye contact.

Easier said than done.

The energy she absorbed from the mortal realm was nothing compared to the way it felt to be held by Logan in Heaven. She knew that if she listened to the demons and finally consumed a human life, it would at least come close. But short of that, this nearly tangible eye contact with the angel was heady enough. It was also too dangerous, so it was time for Leo to go.

She flashed a smirk, tossed her flaming hair, and watched Logan’s eyes widen. Someone passed between them and with a turn, she was gone.

~

In a concealed corner of the club, a natural redhead slapped cash down on the bar top and moved down a hallway to duck out the door to the back alley. She didn’t think they had noticed her, which was good. Witches of her strength were rare, so the Celestials never think to check that all of the mortals in their vicinity are acting as expected. These two especially were unlikely to have noticed her, the way they were fixated on each other. It was easy enough to surmise that one was a demon and the other an angel, but it was assuredly more complicated than that.

The energy that Finn was getting from them was not what she had thought to expect from the opposing higher powers. She had observed enough since developing her powers to know that the monolith that Heaven presented themselves as was complete bullshit. At least the demons acknowledged and took pride in their differences, though those differences unfortunately often came down to how they lured humans to their demise. The auras of no two angels were the same, and yet they followed protocols with an order and precision that made Finn feel like she was witnessing an Agent Smith scene from The Matrix.

Finn stopped walking at the end of the alley and pushed her shaggy bangs out of her eyes before fishing around for her lighter and pulling out an herbal cigarette from her middle left—no, right—pocket. Yep, those were the ones with mugwort and linden flower to help bring her calm and clarity. Focusing on channeling through her fingers to the smoke before it entered her mouth, she was able to boost the herbs and strengthen their benefits. Even though she was still shaking from being that close to both of those incredibly powerful beings, she felt better. The tingle of anticipation was starting to take over. They were the best candidates she had ever found, and something was telling her that they would never be beaten. The two women had been there long enough that Finn had been able to fully familiarize herself with their auras. She could track them down once she had prepared.

Finn halted in the street. There were some drunk couples and groups on the opposite sidewalk, but it wasn’t particularly populated on her walk back to her apartment. The presence she had felt in the tips of her fingers and the hairs on the back of her neck was gone as fast as it arrived, and Finn was not stupid enough to turn around.

Inspired by If I Could by Charlotte Day Wilson

I’d bathe you/ Wash you of the sins that plague you/ Rid you of the burdens and you’d be free once more

Pink rivulets traveled down out of roots of yellow hair and over planes of golden skin to meet a sea of rapidly darkening water. Logan brought the dripping washcloth up to wipe at the blood on Leo’s forehead again. There was no acknowledgement. He had been staring unseeing at the checkered tile wall since Logan had sat him in the steaming bath he’d drawn when they had stumbled, Logan supporting Leo’s weight, into the apartment. His arms were hugging his knees to his chest as he sat upright in the tub with hunched shoulders.

If Logan tapped into his divine sight, he could almost make out the matching scars at the points of Leo’s shoulder blades. They were ugly things that Logan once would have blamed on the disgraceful act of falling but now couldn’t help but attribute to the hateful act of casting someone down to Hell for questioning the “natural order.” He couldn’t throw the whole system out; Logan had never been able to swallow the bitter words of revenge even if he did sympathize with where Leo was coming from, but being… with Leo had changed things.

He was reaching out to touch before he could think better of it. Leo’s sharp intake of breath was the first response he had gotten in the entire course of the now-cooling bath. Logan withdrew his hand when Leo turned to look at him, but it was placed back on the old wound and held there tight as Logan’s mind was launched through time and space.

He looked through Leo’s eyes as angels surrounded him. He spoke through Leo’s mouth as desperate pleas were rebuffed by hard eyes and closed ears. He felt the ripping of skin, the wrenching of sinew, and the cracking of bone and cartilage as Leo’s wings were torn from his heavenly body, and he experienced the true weight of gravity for the first time as Leo plummeted from the sky.

Ramsey’s scrap of sanity was getting pretty threadbare. He loved his son dearly; he loved his wailing and crying son so dearly, but he was going crazy. He knew that losing his wife in childbirth was just as tough on his baby as it was on him (he hadn’t loved her like the storybooks say, but it was a practical match and they really were very good friends), but god he just hadn’t had a break in over a year. That’s why Ramsey had written to his sister to come stay with him for a little bit. He needed the company, he needed the help, and he desperately needed the pot of tea she was making for them in the kitchen. Alex had quieted down by the time Shannon brought their teacups to the sitting room where Ramsey was bouncing him in his arms. He breathed a quiet word of thanks to his sister before sitting down in his armchair with one arm around Alex where the baby was now sleeping on his chest and the other raising the tea to his lips.

“Ramsey, darling, you look exhausted,” Shannon started.

“Ah, well I can’t imagine why,” Ramsey responded before taking a sip from his teacup. She just gave him a look over the rim of hers.

“How about I take him for a bit? You need some fresh air,” his sister suggested.

Ramsey clutched Alexander a little tighter. The boy may wear him out, but he needed Alex as much as Alex needed him, if not more. His child was the last piece of his wife that he had left, and sometimes letting him go felt impossible.

“I am perfectly capable of putting him down,” Shannon added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, all right.” But Ramsey was slow to get up and hand Alex over. He really was such a sweet baby. Those huge brown eyes framed by dark red lashes could bend Ramsey’s will on anything, and he felt their pull even while they were closed peacefully. He grabbed his coat then bid them goodbye with a kiss to his sister’s cheek and his baby’s soft, sweet-smelling head. Right before he was out the door, he turned back to the people that mattered most in his life. “Thank you, Shannon.”

She just smiled and waved him off, and Ramsey stepped out into the cool autumn night air and shut the door softly behind him. He looked up at the stars, fainter in the glow of his porch lamps, and chose a direction. After passing the last house on the lane, he almost stopped dead in his tracks when he felt an urge—the first in a long time—to whistle a tune. Ramsey also felt himself being inexplicably drawn to the wall that inspired the name of his town. It was one of the rare Market Days at the beginning of November. He had rented out one of the rooms in his house to a curious man in a black silk top hat because the inn always filled up very fast, and it was considered rude if the townsfolk did not offer up their homes to the visitors—for acceptable payment of course (though what was considered acceptable varied greatly with this strange lot; Ramsey was currently being paid both in coin and the promise of his and his progenies’ Heart’s Desire). He was only comfortable leaving Shannon alone in the house because he knew that his mysterious tenant always stayed out in the Faerie Market all night. Ramsey had never been to the Market, as he had moved from Ireland less than three years ago. Escaping the growing food scarcity, he started working for sheep farmers in Wall to send money back to his family. He became good friends with the farmer’s eldest daughter; and very quickly, he and Daisy were expected to marry, so they did. They had Alex a year into their marriage, and just like that, she was gone. His in-laws generally took care of Alex while he was working, but he still hadn’t expected to have the time nor the energy to see the Market. However, something about this opportunity that would end tonight and not come again for nine years was suddenly irresistible.

When Ramsey emerged from the tree line to see the wall guarded by none other than Mad-Eye Moody himself, he was surprised to find no one passing through either way. Still, he nodded to Moody and attempted to go through the crumbling gap in the wall before his chest bumped into the cane that Moody had thrust out in front of him.

“You can’t pass through the wall, O’Hara,” Moody said in his rough, gravelly voice.

“Why but it is a Market Day,” Ramsey responded with his eyebrows pinched together.

Moody stared at him hard, “yes, but I only let people through midday to dusk. It is not safe over there after nightfall.”

“Oh,” Ramsey knew that Moody was not someone who could be bargained with. “Well… that sounds rather final. Better just go home then, I suppose.” Ramsey turned around to make it appear that he was heeding Moody’s warning, but that last strand of sanity had finally snapped.

“Good,” Moody started walking back to his seat off to the side of the gap. He wasn’t fast enough to stop Ramsey when the young man suddenly turned back around and sprinted towards the wall, leaping through the gap and not stopping to the shouts of “wait!” and “O’HARA!” that followed him into the forest on the other side of the wall. Ramsey knew that Moody would not leave his post, but he didn’t stop running to catch his breath until he was well into the trees.

The Faerie Market lay outside the town that served as a magical counterpart to Wall. He could hear the hawking of wares and music from instruments he could not identify as he moved closer to the orange glow filtering through the forest. Ramsey did not want to look like a tourist, but he felt like his eyes held the same naïve wonderment as his son’s when he finally entered the Market. Some of the stalls were already closed up as it was past normal hours, but there were still plenty of people selling wild things like parts from animals he had never heard of and bottles of swirling clouds and sweet-smelling food (that he knew very well not to take thanks to his Maimeó). He felt almost in a trance as he wandered the winding rows of stalls until sharp awareness flooded back as he beheld the most beautiful woman he had ever seen standing behind a table of small glass flowers that chimed delicately. She had long curly auburn hair hanging loose over bare shoulders and past the neckline of her blue dress with ruffled skirts. Her violet eyes and pointed ears alerted his brain that she could be dangerous, but his heart told him that it didn’t matter.

She caught him staring, “See anything you like?”

It was then that the man with the black silk top hat passed by, though Ramsey did not notice his presence or whisper of a debt being paid in full.

“Definitely,” Ramsey breathed. He could not stop looking at the woman, and when she smiled in response, he lost all higher brain function. He averted his eyes to the flowers and stammered, “they- they are very lovely,” and he picked up a violet that seemed to sing as he held it, “how much?”

“We don’t take money at this stall.”

Ramsey cocked his head, “what do you take?”

“I could take the pattern of freckles on your cheeks… or your memories of the rain. I could even take your ability to smell fresh baked bread or the spice of autumnal air.”

Ramsey put down the flower, feeling a little out of his depth, but he would give up quite a bit just to keep talking to her.

“What is your name?”

She smiled sadly, “I no longer have a name,” and she held up her skirts just enough to show a silver chain tied around her ankle, “I am a slave, and the name I had was taken from me by the witch-woman who owns this stall.”

Ramsey tried not to let too much of his horror show on his face, “And you are her slave forever?”

“No, not forever. But the conditions in which I gain my freedom are not so easily met. My mistress lured me out of my father’s lands and caught me many years ago. I dream of the day that I can return to them as a free woman.” The young woman, who had been looking out unseeing into the middle distance, returned her gaze to Ramsey, “Will you buy a flower from me, young master?”

“My name is Ramsey,” he told her, having been enraptured by her sad tale and forgetting that one must be careful with names in the land of Faerie. He gave the table another look and picked up a white snowdrop that he knew Alex would like. “And what would this cost me?”

“That one would cost a kiss, just here on my cheek,” and she tapped it coyly.

Ramsey grinned at her, “oh that I will pay gladly,” and he kissed the soft skin of her cheek. He felt the overwhelming desire to linger and continue breathing in the inviting, magical scent of the woman, but he pulled away and searched her unusual violet eyes.

“Will you stay awhile? My mistress will not be back for some time,” she asked.

The quickness with which Ramsey started nodding made him pause, “I feel as if I am under some sort of spell.”

Her laugh was even more wondrous than her smile. “You are under no spell, pretty boy,” and she led him to sit in the grass between the painted caravan and her table of wares.

They both looked up at the stars in the clearing between the trees, and Ramsey could not help but remark on the unidentifiable difference to the ones he saw mere hours ago on his side of the wall, “these stars, they seem like… more.”

The woman beside him (she was so close, but he could feel the inches between them so distinctly) hummed melodically and asked, “What are your stars like?”

She looked at him as he struggled to name the difference, “They are beautiful.” He met her gaze and his breath caught, “But everything feels so much more alive here.”

“What about you? Do you feel more alive?”

He didn’t tell her about the challenges he was facing back home—grief, loneliness, homesickness—but he had a feeling she knew anyway. “I think I do,” he whispered and brought a hand to the cheek that he had kissed. He leaned in, and she brought her mouth to his. The desire that Ramsey had felt from that first kiss on her cheek multiplied tenfold, and it felt only natural when she led him through the small door of the yellow caravan.

~

When Shannon scolded him and told him she was this close to forming a search party at the late hour that he finally returned to his home, Ramsey made up some story to placate her and quickly fell into bed (but not before placing the snowdrop carefully on his bedside table), utterly exhausted and strangely content.

~

Nine months later, Ramsey received a surprise in a basket delivered by Moody to his doorstep after hearing a knock at dinner time. The surprise had a little bit of fuzzy red hair and startlingly familiar chocolate brown eyes when he opened them to peer up at Ramsey curiously.

Moody stated gruffly, “This was left at the wall for you. It says his name is Finn.”

All Ramsey could do was stare at the man, and then at the baby.

“Dada! More, peas,” Ramsey heard from where Alex was seated in his highchair at the dinner table.

“One second, a leanbh,” Ramsey called back to Alex before taking the basket from Moody. He told the man thank you and received a grunt in response before closing the door and heading back into the dining room. He set the baby and basket onto the table and picked up the piece of paper that had “Finn Callahan O’Hara” written in looping cursive. There was also a letter and a small package addressed to Finn tucked into the side of the basket that he did not touch.

“What dat?” Alex asked, trying to peer over the edge of the basket, and while there was no written confirmation, Ramsey knew. He knew that he was going to do this again. But he didn’t feel as alone this time. He had Alex, he had his sister, and he had the people in his community, like Iva and Marius, who were always willing to help.

Ramsey gently lifted Finn into his arms and held him so that Alex could get a good look. “This is your little brother Finn,” Ramsey said to Alex and watched his eyes go wide. He then turned to the baby, who had reached out his hand at the sight of the toddler. “Finn, this is your big brother Alexander.”

Sitting on the couch in his apartment living room, Leo was interrupted from struggling not to let his eyes skip lines during a very suspenseful moment in his book when he heard a loud crash from the kitchen. He jumped up and swung around the door jam to see all his nice pans on the floor…again.

His roommate looked up at him with wide eyes from where he stood by the coffee maker, “I swear I didn’t touch it!”

Leo sighed, “It’s not your fault, Finn. That rack keeps falling down because apparently these wall anchors do not hold their advertised weight!” He huffed. The cabinet space in their tiny New York apartment was abysmal, so hanging up his pans like they do in those fancy kitchens with marble counters or copper detailing seemed like the best option.

“Could also be these shitty walls,” Finn chirped and tapped the wall behind him.

“Yeah, that too,” Leo returned Finn’s grin and could tell he was also thinking about how well they can hear the music from the online Zumba class that one of their neighbors attends religiously. “I’m just going to have to get a stud finder at the hardware store. You have a drill, right?” Finn grimaced and shook his head. “Then a drill set, too.”

Finn clapped a hand on his shoulder as he brushed by with his travel mug, “I would offer to go with, but I’m headed into the office.”

“What? Finn, it’s Saturday.”

“A journalist never rests!” And he was out the door.

Leo looked at the small tear through the dry wall from the anchor being ripped out forcefully and sighed again. He stacked his pans on a clear spot on the counter and went to collect what he needed for a walk to the hardware store.

~

The bell on the door jingled overhead as Leo entered the shop. The closest one he could find on maps seemed to be a family-run place without much information on the page at all—just the open hours and a handful of reviews, no website or pictures of the inside. Leo would have to agree with kathybee309, it was surprisingly warm and inviting as soon as he stepped inside. He couldn’t see the check-out counter from the door, but clear, handwritten indices at each aisle directed Leo to the stud finders. He was holding two options in his hands, trying to think of a reason he shouldn’t just get the cheapest one, when a soft voice spoke up to his right.

“Are you finding everything you need?”

Leo noted an accent and looked up quickly only to almost drop what he was holding. The employee that spoke to him was decently shorter than him and had a combination of curly chocolate hair, bright green eyes, and prominent muscles—truly the way his heavy apron cinched around his waist and barely covered the width his denim-wrapped thighs was criminal—that had Leo a bit weak at the knees. “Umm, hi, yeah I think I’m um good,” he stammered. “Just,” a nervous laugh, “trying to decide.” Leo held up the stud finders and tried to make his smile friendly and not as painfully awkward as he currently felt.

The store employee walked closer to him and examined the options in his hands before meeting his eyes again. At this distance Leo could read his nametag: Logan. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, I’m just trying to hang up my pans. The darn wall rack keeps falling out, so I decided to go a little more heavy duty than dry wall anchors.” He held up one of the stud finders and tried to joke, “need some studs.” Logan gave him a smile, small and breathtaking.

“Well, they’ll both work for that, but this simpler one should be sufficient,” Logan tapped his finger on the cheaper one. Yeah, Leo would say that they were working just fine considering the person in front of him. “Is that all?”

“Yep,” Leo nodded, no thoughts in his brain.

“Trés bon, you can follow me back to check out.” Logan jerked his head back the way he had come and started down the aisle. Leo hurriedly put the other stud finder back and trailed after Logan, almost tripping when he noticed the way his ass moved in those tight jeans. He kept his eyes fixed on the back of Logan’s head for the rest of the short walk to the register.

It wasn’t until Leo had closed his apartment door behind him that he realized that he completely forgot about the drill. He leaned against the door and cursed quietly. At least this time he would be prepared for the hardware store hottie and maybe not make quite as big of a fool out of himself.

~

He had decided to give it a day, with the hope that Logan would not be working so that he could avoid further embarrassment. The other half of his brain really wanted to see the hot employee again, convinced that this time he would be able to successfully flirt.

“This is a terrible idea,” Leo murmured under his breath as he rounded the sidewalk and came upon the beautifully carved dark red-brown doors set into the corner of the building.

He beelined to the drill section upon entering and luckily didn’t have as much trouble choosing this time. He came from a Milwaukee household. His eyes bugged out a bit when he saw the prices, “Jesus, that’s expensive.” Good thing his new job paid pretty well.

“We actually have a sale going for those right now.” Leo jumped at the voice behind him and turned to see a familiar, unfairly handsome face.

“Logan, hi,” Leo recovered quickly and came to the conclusion that he would have been far more disappointed to not see Logan today.

“I feel a bit at a disadvantage with you knowing my name when I don’t know yours.”

“Oh lord, where are my manners? My name’s Leo,” and he reached out to shake Logan’s warm, callused hand. He couldn’t squash the urge to explain himself, “I realized yesterday that a stud finder is a little useless without a drill and screws .”

Logan turned to the opposite shelves and scanned them for a second before picking up a box of screws. “These should work well for dry wall and studs.”

Leo offered a winning smile, “What would I do without you?” and took the box from Logan, quite possibly deliberately brushing their fingers together.

Logan looked up at him for a beat too long before stepping back. He cleared his throat, “Just doing my job. Do you need anything else?”

After taking a quick survey of what was in his hands—drill, drill bits, screws—Leo responded, “nope,” and followed Logan to the counter. In effort to keep the conversation going as Logan was ringing him up, he commented, “the front doors are gorgeous.”

“Merci. That was a long project, but one of my favorites. I can’t stand painted front doors.”

Leo chuckled, “Neither can my mama.” He looked behind him in the direction of the front of the store, “I can’t believe you made them,” turning back to look at Logan again, “y- that’s incredible.”

He was rewarded with another small smile, but this one had a tinge of something sad, “Oh I didn’t do them on my own. I was mainly helping my father. This whole store was his passion project.”

“Hell of a successful passion project, I bet I’d be astonished to see what he could accomplish with his day job!”

Logan’s smile twisted confusingly wry, “His day job wasn’t as important to him,” then that same sadness again, “But we’ll never really know what all he could have done, he passed several years ago.”

Trying to temper his shame of talking with Logan about his dead father with the fact that Logan brought him up, Leo erased the shock off his face and brought one hand up to squeeze Logan’s shoulder, “I’m sure he feels at peace knowing you are carrying on the legacy of what he loved.”

“Well, he’s not the only legacy-carrier, are you Lo Bear?” a voice called, and a young woman emerged from the back. Leo dropped his hand. If he hadn’t already guessed that they were related from her statement, he would have known just by looking at her. They could have been twins, but her green eyes were piercing through him where Logan’s were a warm, solid weight.

Logan, with color on his cheeks, huffed, “Leo, this is my sister Noelle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Noelle.”

“Likewise,” she cocked her head at him. “What brings you here this fine Sunday morning?”

“Oh, just trying to hang stuff up in my kitchen. Not enough cabinet space.”

“An eternal struggle in Gryffindor.”

Leo chuckled, “Yeah, I’m finding that out.”

“Did you move here recently?”

“Yes, actually I moved here only a few months ago.”

“For a job?”

Leo was starting to get slightly unnerved by the accuracy of her guesses but tried not to let it show, “yes ma’am.” Logan had finished putting his things into a bag and pushed it his way while glaring at his sister. He looked between the siblings for a second before politely saying, “well I’ll let y’all get back to work. It was nice to see you again, Logan.”

Logan turned back to him and his gaze softened, “come back any time, Leo.”

~

As soon as Logan heard the sound of the door swinging shut behind Leo, Noelle jumped up and hastily looked around the store, but it was empty. She turned back towards Logan, who furrowed his brows at her.

“Thank god I was here today. You need to be more careful, Lolo.”

“Quoi?” Logan looked around in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Are Jackson and Evgeni here?”

“Ouais, of course. What’s going on?” Logan’s eyes started darting around the store and his fingers gravitated towards the handgun strapped to the underside of the counter.

“Nothing right now.” Noelle flashed him a quick smirk, “I thought you were just flirting with a customer and wanted to come out and see, but then I got a good look at him. The tall blond cutie pie is not what he seems, he’s the newest detective on the Gryffindor police force.” At Logan’s wide eyes, she tacked on, “Ouais, the ones who would have us in handcuffs if they even so much as caught a whiff of what’s going on.”

“Merde,” Logan breathed out. While he wouldn’t have pegged Leo as a cop in a million years, he could see how his underlying air of quiet confidence would make him an effective detective. Still, he seemed too genuine to be at the shop secretly sniffing around for a case, and Logan had a good bullshit detector, “I will be more careful, Noelle, but I don’t think that’s why he was here.”

“I trust you, Logan, just don’t let that pretty smile blind you.” Noelle ruffled his hair and stepped back, “I’m gonna head back to Maman’s. I love you.”

“I love you too, Nolly.” Logan waved goodbye and waited until she was out of sight before he sat down with a loud exhale, running a hand through his hair.

He wished that knowing Leo was, in essence, his enemy had halted his fantasies about the man altogether, but it had unfortunately and predictably only intensified his desire. It was unusual for him to feel a connection with someone so quickly, without really knowing them at all, but Leo was special somehow, just like… Logan shook his head.