Molly settled herself on the sofa by the fire and pulled the skein of emerald yarn from her basket, setting to work. Once the first stitches were cast and the charms had been set, the process of knitting was soothingly automatic: the needles clicked and spun as the jumper took shape. This would be the last of the parcels for Hogwarts, meaning one less thing to finish before Christmas in Romania. Her heart pulled in two directions at the thought. She imagined the breakfast her younger boys wouldn’t have this year—steaming mugs of hot chocolate dotted with whipped cream, plump round Chelsea buns ribboned by spices, torn wrapping paper strewn around the Burrow floor. Charlie, gentle Charlie, deserved to have the visit that he’d get from the rest of them. Still, part of her always wanted everyone together: Christmas, like everything, was for family, after all.
She’d had to ask Ron twice if he was sure that his new friend Harry would be staying at school, and it still baffled her that this miraculous child could ever be in need of a gift. Wherever he’d gone—and where had he gone?—certainly the orphan savior of the Wizarding world would be awash in fond attention, surrounded by love, picked up and dashed home the moment the castle doors opened. If that wouldn’t happen….well, Ron would have his brothers for company while Hogwarts staff gave Harry the Christmas he should have. Her package could join, perhaps, a pile of other tributes: the boy could open it later, if he felt like it, and if not, never mind.
Molly knew she had a tendency to believe in things as they ought to be, not as they were. As the knitting needles stilled, pulled off from the collar, an echo in her mind reached somehow into the living room. Quiet but determined, fighting for a place.
Excuse me.
She remembered the small boy at the barrier to the platform, the bright flush of his cheeks and the soggy gray of his thin t-shirt, how he swam in his clothes and stammered on his words.
How he’d come to her, alone, as though she could truly help him.
The jumper was finished, wasn’t it? But no.
Molly reached into her basket for a thread that matched the yarn, slipping it easily through the needle and doing this last bit entirely by hand. Along the inner neckline, where he probably wouldn’t see it. Three words, embroidered, a talisman of sorts to tuck in with the fudge as she wrapped Harry’s parcel. Things needed to be, this time at least, as she knew they ought to be.
The jumper would warm him. The words read, You are loved.
Trek prompt: Scotty vs. the kittens! Somehow they wound up in Engineering and no one is claiming responsibility.
How very dare you. (Responsibility is claimed, but there is a kitten involved.)
Anyway, this takes place in early 2256, so well after where the series is on AO3. A note for anyone else reading: AotW was plotted long, long before Discovery or Strange New Worlds came out, so it doesn't fit the new stuff. But it does fit the old stuff!
--
It figured that the first real challenge to his new posting as Chief Engineer of the Enterprise had absolutely nothing to do with engineering.
Scotty was only beginning to get used to his promotion and appointment; it was just a week old now, and he still occasionally had to huff a breath out that fell somewhere between wondering laughter and actual anxiety.
But despite the fact he felt a wee bit like someone had lobbed a brick at his head and he was reeling around dazed in the aftermath, he knew he at least looked mostly like he was handling the huge shift his life had undergone when Captain Pike had handed him his letters and the astronomical responsibility that came with them. And it helped that he could go home -- Earth-home -- every night and find refuge with his family and the slower, more gentle pace of life in Midcoast Maine; it was awkward, yet, learning how to leave work at work, but having a niece and nephew to dote on went a long way towards it.
Any which way, he thought he was doing a fair job of seeming to be properly put together, at least until one of his temporary techs meowed at him.
The tech froze, back to him; Scotty's head went over to the side slowly, as he tried to figure out how he was supposed to react to that. Except maybe to tell the lad that he was a fine mimic, anyway; he did sound just like a kitten.
He went to open his mouth to say something -- hoping the words would leap into existence when he didn't actually know what they would be -- when the tech turned around with a resigned look and slumping shoulders. "Uh-- I can explain, Chief, I swear, I just--"
"Collins, is that a cat?" There was an orange fluffball in the lad's collar, against his neck; either it was a cat, if a very small one, or he had the kind of growth that would have Xenobiology quarantining the whole lot of them.
Collins winced. "Sir, I know we're not supposed to bring animals aboard, but I thought-- we're in the Fleet Yards, so it's not like we're out in open space, and she was out in the rain and her mother wasn't anywhere, so I thought maybe I would bring her just long enough to wait for my lunch break and then call somebody about taking her in, I mean, I have my PADD set to scan for any lost pet advisories from Chicago, and--"
Scotty was waiting for the kid to faint; Collins didn't take a single breath as he dumped that whole bucket of words out. But when it became clear that poor Collins was just going to keep going, he spoke up, holding a hand up to hopefully stall any more, "Calm down. I'm not about to go bringin' ye up on charges over a kitten, Collins." Especially given his own record. "Just--" Well, just what? he asked himself. "D'ye have a plan for if she doesn't have anyone lookin' for her?"
Collins cleared his throat, looking thoroughly abashed. "--no, sir. My roommate would probably kill me if I brought her home. And my parents already have dogs, and my grandmother has birds-- and-- well, maybe there's some kind of organization--?"
Scotty somehow managed not to start rubbing the bridge of his nose; he wasn't sure whether he was more exasperated or more amused yet. "All right. All right, stop what ye're doin', and look into it. And we'll see if we can't solve this before the end o' the day, aye?"
"Oh." Collins breathed out in clear relief. "Yessir. Uh-- d'you wanna hold her maybe?" he asked, extricating the fuzz from his collar -- which gave a tiny protesting meow -- before holding her out.
"That-- would be a very bad idea," Scotty said, except by the time he had those words out of his mouth, he also had the kitten in hand. Oh no, he thought, shaking his head to himself as Collins ran to get his PADD.
"Well, now what?" he asked the fluffball.
The kitten made to climb up his shirt in answer.
--
"Chief--" Captain Pike's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed, and he leaned forward a little from where he was clearly behind his desk, expression openly baffled. "--where did you...?"
Scotty bit down a sigh, knowing full well he was blushing and unable to do a single damn thing about it. "One o' my techs found her on the way to work, Captain. I'm not quite sure how he got her past the transporter operator in Chicago, though. But I swear, she'll be off the ship by the end o' the dayshift."
The fact that the kitten was perched on his shoulder probably made for a surreal image. Pike certainly seemed amused by it, anyway. "I see. Well, I was going to ask if you had time to go over the phase three schedule, but-- clearly you have enough on your shoulders right now. I'll leave you to it."
There was the distinctive snap of a screen capture being taken, but by the time Scotty opened his mouth to protest about it and that really awful joke -- which would have been bold, aye, but necessary -- Pike had already cut the connection, though not before the first note of laughter sounded through the comm.
The kitten was purring up a storm in his ear, even as he rubbed over his face with a groan.
--
Thankfully, the little thing slept through most of the rest of the shift, curled up in a nest he made out of his civilian coat.
Unfortunately, they hadn't actually come up with any real plan for what to do with her.
And also unfortunately, he had to field eight different calls or notes from other senior staff members, which was especially difficult because he was still wrapping his brain around the fact he was one of them now.
And all of whom now had a picture of him playing cat-perch, no less.
"I can't just take her and put her back, Chief," Collins said, all but wringing his hands as he paced back and forth in front of Scotty's desk.
"No, that ye can't." And they were running out of both time and options.
Animal welfare laws and and strict control of the companion animal population meant that the need for rescue organizations was nearly non-existent; strays were almost completely unheard of, and on the incredibly rare occasion there was a stray that wasn't chipped and registered, it usually was rehomed quickly.
But-- no one was missing a kitten in Chicago, and no one was looking for her, and somehow she had come into existence despite all of the laws in place that would otherwise normally prevent such a thing.
Which meant that she needed somewhere to go.
"What do we do?" Collins asked, stopping his pacing -- thank everything, his pacing nearly had Scotty getting up to do the same -- and looking somehow both exhausted and pleading.
Well, it was an engineer's job to solve problems. Even, apparently, problems like these.
Scotty looked at the orange fluffball as she stretched, then yawned, then peered at them with eyes that hadn't even changed color from blue yet, and finally gave into that several-hours-old urge to rub at the bridge of his nose as he answered, "Well, ye're gonna go clean up her temporary litter box and get squared away, and I'm gonna call around and see about findin' her a home. At least until or unless someone in Chicago puts out a notice."
Collins practically melted to the floor in relief. "Thank you, sir," he said, and then he was out the door in a blur of gray boiler suit, probably so he could disappear before Scotty could change his mind.
--
"Corrigan here."
"So, I have this dilemma--" Scotty started, without any preamble, at least until the dilemma decided to meow, a little on the shrill side, no doubt hungry, especially now that the galley was shut down for the day and no more fish paste could be, uh-- repurposed into kitten food.
Corry's voice was both awed and rushed. "--oh my god, where did you get a cat? Is it a kitten. Tell me it's a kitten?"
Well, that didn't sound like a bad response. Scotty knew Cor had a couple cats when he was younger, but at least for the past fourteen years, the family hadn't had any pets. "Aye, it's a kitten. One o' my techs found her, felt bad for her and then brought her aboard. I know Allie and Aaron aren't old enough for pets, but d'ye think Mom and Dad--?" he asked, wincing despite the fact that it couldn't be seen.
"We'll figure something out, just bring her home. I'll stop and grab some stuff, and I'll have Mom and Dad meet us in Augusta, and we can take her back home and see, and oh man, it's been a long time since we've had cats, our last one was twenty-one when he died and then I shipped off to Basic and we just never really had a chance to have another one--"
"--right," Scotty said quietly, pretty much entirely to himself, sinking deeper into his chair in relief as his brother kept on chattering about the Corrigan cats of yore, with a headshake and a grin.
Problem solved, then.
Ten minutes -- and three stories about cat antics -- later, he picked up the kitten and held her against his chest as he headed out the door.
"Don't worry," he told her, "they're really good at takin' in strays."
(She may not have understood, but she had a home by the end of the night, one former stray brought there by another.)
Prev - Pintroverts Week Day 2: Flowers - Next - [ AO3 ]
Rated G - WC: 512
Thomas walked alongside Nico as he pushed the heavy blue U-boat cart down the garden planter aisle. “Oh, what about one of those?” Thomas nudged Nico toward a row of carved stone pots dotted with colorful stones.
“Hm, those are beautiful.” He tilted his head and reached in his pocket for a small measuring tape as Thomas grinned.
“Prepared for anything, as usual!" he laughed.
“It’s what makes me so lovable!” Nico joked, bending over to measure the true depth of the planters.
Thomas crouched down next to him, taking one end of the tape to capture the width of the long planter. “Well I guess that explains why I love you so much!”
Nico dropped the tape with a clatter and it skid and wobbled its way across the floor. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I… Uh… I uh, I think, um… What?”
“You just said—”
“I know what I said. I mean, I didn’t say that. What? No. I didn’t say anything. I mean—”
Nico sat back on his heels and smiled at Thomas. “I’d say the shovels are on aisle 10 but I think you’re digging that hole for yourself just fine without one.”
Thomas opened his mouth to protest but surrendered as he found himself getting lost in the rich chocolate swirls of Nico’s eyes. “I… would you believe I’m already blind drunk and don’t know what I’m saying?”
Pointedly checking his watch, Nico shook his head. “Blind drunk at 11:15 in the morning?”
He plucked a red carnation from one of the flats of annuals they’d picked up from the display outside the Garden Center. It had been the bright yellow, red, and pink blossoms lining the walkway in front of Lowes that had convinced them to stop in on their way to an uncharacteristically early brunch. Just to look around, of course.
That had been over an hour and a half ago and they'd since lined their cart with flowering plants, organic potting soil, garden gloves, and two new sets of trowels. Nico smiled and leaned in to tuck the flower behind Thomas’ ear, then cupped his face with both hands and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.
“That’s what I would have done if you’d said you loved me.” He pulled back, staring into the stunned actor's eyes. “Are you sure that isn’t what you meant to say?”
“W—well, maybe—” Thomas’ voice cracked and he cleared his throat before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah that would've been… nice.”
“Well, Mr. Sanders?”
“Oh, y—you want me to—to say it?”
Nico smiled softly, brushing his fingers over the flush spreading across Thomas’ face. "Only if it's true," he whispered.
Cheeks as bright as the flower in his hair, he took a deep breath and held Nico’s hand close to his chest. “Nico,” he bowed his head slightly, “Mr. Flores… I love you.”
“‘Dude, shut up, that is awesomesauce!’” Nico bit his lips, fighting a grin. He started to stand, finally exploding in laughter when Thomas pulled him back down into his arms and they both fell over.
“Excuse me?” Thomas tried—and failed—not to laugh.
Nico kissed him again, a bubble of shared laughter tickling their lips. “Of course I love you, too, Tommy.”
So excited to share this bit of fluffy, sexy, angsty joy with you all. This chapter was the balm my soul needed after that chaos of the last two chapters. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!
Oh, and there may be a special introduction of an adorable friend of mine at the very end that I very selfishly wrote into the narrative.
Credit to Lana del Rey (and her amazing new album) who fueled my 5 am sweet, sweet smut writing session.
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 86,150
Pairings: Solas/Lavellan, m!Hawke/Fenris (minor)
Chapters: 16/?
Read more: From the top; Chapter 16
The radiance of his smile would have put the sun itself to shame.
He drew her against him, his lips touching hers softly. She pulled him closer, wanting to feel the intensity of him.
I need to know he’s real.
He did not retreat, kissing her as fiercely as she kissed him, their bodies and minds perfectly in sync.
She moved to shrug off her tunic, pulling away to lift it above her head.
“Vhenan… Are you sure this is wise? You did just wake up after sleeping for nearly a week. You almost died.”
She smiled wryly. “Not all lovemaking is wild bucking and flurried thrusting. Just be gentle with me and we should both be fine. Besides, we were both too drunk to truly celebrate the night it first happened. Take me softly, vhenan.”
Heard the plague was gettin' you down, friend. How bout some honest-to-god Kalex fluff to lift your spirits a bit?
—
coming home
—
"Freedom!" Kara cries dramatically as she and Winn leave the lecture hall in a crowd of equally-relieved college students. "The week from hell is over."
"Speak for yourself," Winn grumbles, hitching his backpack higher and digging his phone from his pocket. "I've still gotta do the Stats final and finish up that dumb-ass CAD project."
"Naw," she clicks her tongue with a mildly patronizing pout. "Betcha regret that two-week bender now, huh?"
"Shuddup," he grouses, hip checking his cackling friend. "I'll have you know, I– whoa, do you see that?"
"Hmm?" She glances up and around. "What?"
He gestures with his phone down toward the street below them, the line of cars and the swarm of foot-traffic. "The crazy-sexy woman leaning against the black Charger down there."
At the mention of car's model, and despite the fact that logic tells her Alex is still at school, on the other side of the country, Kara's head whips back around, now searching in earnest, with frantic hope, heart leaping into her throat. Wishing, praying–
"Jesus Christ, I think I'm in love. Do you see her, Ka–"
And then Kara spots her, her whole face lighting up instantly.
She shoves her bag into Winn's chest and takes off running, down the stone steps, ducking and weaving through aimless students, nearly taking out a bike messenger in her haste.
"Alex!" Kara shrieks, finally breaking free of the pack and launching herself full-tilt into her big sister's arms, locking her arms round Alex's neck with an overzealous squeal, peppering a downpour of happy kisses against the side of Alex's head and face.
Alex laughs into Kara's shoulder, squeezing her back just as hard.
Kara's kisses quickly trail from her cheek to her mouth, Kara's fingers sinking reflexively into Alex's hair and holding her close at the kiss drags them deeper.
Alex's fingers grip hard into Kara's waist, pushing up under the girl's shirt to gently brush against bare skin, drawing a full-bodied shiver though Kara's frame.
"Mmm," Kara murmurs into the kiss. "I missed you."
Alex smiles, playfully nipping at Kara's lower lip. "I missed you too. Thought I'd surprise you after your last final."
Kara hums as she sucks on the tip of a very sneaky tongue. "I'm glad you did. How long can you stay this time?"
"How long do you want me to stay?" Alex teases back.
"Forever," is Kara's immediate, expected response as she continues to brush Alex's lips lazily.
"Cornball."
Kara smiles. "You love me."
"I do. But if you're serious about wanting me to stay forever," Alex starts, easing back just enough to catch Kara's eye, tipping their foreheads together as her smile stretches. "I have some very good news for you."
