An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Title: Playing with Fire 1/3 G
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Sterek
Rating/Warnings: G. Alpha Derek Hale, Truth or Dare. Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Light Angst, Attempt at Humor, Hurt/Comfort, A Very Sterek Winter Fest, no beta we live and love Stiles, Hurt Stiles Stilinski
Link to fic:
Brief Summary/Notes (optional): Without any warning, there was a blackout in Beacon Hills.
One would say that it started with lightning and others will claim that Beacon Hills is under ransom attack, but all those consider as rumors, the citizen of Beacon Hills don’t know of whom to trust for the truth.
--
Written for Days 4-6: Power Outage, Magic, Hurt/Comfort - A Very Sterek Winter @averysterekwinter
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
The war was over, it was done. Too bad it wasn't done with him.
When Warriors and the Chain land in his Hyrule, things seem alright. But the Captain is quick to realize that something is afoot and untangling the web will prove to be more personal then Warriors first imagined.
Eyes On You (Yandere! Captain Allen x Reader fic.) (Chapter One)
Summary- It had been just another day for Captain Allen, and another hostage situation, another android going haywire. It was nothing new to him, what was new to him was you. A fresh new recruit who had just joined his team. He couldn’t put his finger on it but there was just something about you.
As time goes on Allen finds himself drawn to you, unable to think of anything but you. Until it become unbearable, until he could think of nothing but having you as his own. And he will stop at nothing in doing so...
Authors Notes- Aaaaand here I am back again with another Yandere fanfic. Again it’s another Captain Allen one. Because I think our swat boy doesn’t get enough love it seems and I’m here to rectify that. As you should know by now I mention any trigger warnings in my authors notes. But since this is only the first chapter there won’t be too many right now.
Now that we got that out of the way here is the first chapter of Eyes On You.
Chapter One.
It started like every other day for Captain David Allen. Or so he thought, he mused as he lay in bed one night. His thoughts going back to a few weeks ago, when you came into his life.
***
Things were quiet. But for him and his team that was how things always seemed. They never did stay that way though, and to make matters worst. Was you... David’s eyes narrowed when he saw you, this bright eyed, bushy tailed newbie coming waltzing up to his desk while the SWAT captain was busy with reports. He had wanted to send you away, SWAT was no place for someone like you. And yet just looking you struck him silent. He was unable to utter a word as you told him that yes, you were the newest member of his team.
How you were eager to work along side him and how you had heard of him while you were at the academy, of course it didn’t help that your credentials were damn near perfect, he wished they weren’t then maybe he’d have a reason to send you away. But no, he couldn’t, he was transfixed by you.
However before he could even utter a word, even welcome you to the team he ended up getting a call about a hostage situation. Allen suppressed a groan, don’t get him wrong he loved his job, it was his life but right here? Right now? He wanted to spend time with you.
Allen’s brow furrowed when he thought that as you and him along with the others geared up. He had just met you, sure you seemed nice, sure you seemed like you had potential but there was just something about you. Jesus Christ, he was acting like some love struck child with his first crush. Not to mention it was obvious you were several years younger than him. You were a kid!
Giving his head a shake Allen forced himself to turn away from you to address the rest of the crew before setting out to deal with what he assumed was either another disgruntled human, or a android going haywire. David didn’t know what they were getting into but he hoped it was nothing too dangerous for your first time.
***
Your first mission had been one involving a deviant android, a particularly trigger happy one that seemed intent on gunning down anything that moved. Just another plastic whose wires got crossed simply because it’s owner didn’t treat it right. Allen had to scoff at that when all was said and done, he didn’t like androids most of times. They gave him the creeps, but you, you actually had tried to convince the android, an AX400 to at least drop the gun. Your voice soft, soothing as you tried to coax it to calm down and put the gun down.
But like with so many other times Allen and his men had encountered these malfunctioning machines it didn’t work, and he had no choice but to put it down as it opened fire on you. A shrill scream escaping those pretty lips as you ducked behind a pillar. And that was more than enough to sent him over the edge. The android going down in a hail of bullets, blue blood staining the floor as Allen drew closer to the body, you peeking from behind the pillar with worried eyes.
You were silent as you moved out from behind the pillar to look down at the body. As he smiled triumphantly, a smile which soon disappeared when he saw the look on your face, you seemed....sad. Surely, you weren’t upset over the fact that he had gunned down this hunk of plastic, were you?
Blinking you had looked up at him. “Was there really no other way?” you had asked him.
At which he had shook his head, a pang of guilt gripping his heart. You were feeling pity for a hunk of plastic, a lifeless hunk of plastic. At that moment Allen felt something more for you. You, this pure hearted being, this sweet woman who seemed to care for androids were getting under his skin. Allen was confused, his piercing gaze glued on you as you walked past him.
***
That had been weeks ago. Allen mused, as he rolled onto his back, eyes glued to the ceiling. You were once again invading his thoughts. At first Gavin had thought that it was because you were too soft, too kind. But now... now he wasn’t too sure. But Allen did know one thing, he wanted you. When he had first thought that he had been shocked, and had pushed that thought from his head. With no such luck, and before he knew it he found his thoughts nothing but you.
It was beginning to frustrate him, he knew this wasn’t just him being over protective of you. He knew this was something else, he knew, for him things wouldn’t go back to normal until you were his...
One of a Kind: Chapter 1 of Guarding Miss Shirayuki
Fandom: Snow White with the Red Hair
Summary: Obi didn't know when he accepted the job of protecting Miss Shirayuki that he'd become so entranced with his charge. Yuki was smarter and more intriguing than any other person he'd spent protecting - but how could he ever have guessed Shirayuki would become so important? A canonesque romp of a story - exploring the relationship that could have been.
Chapter One: One of a Kind: Guarding Miss Shirayuki ~ This is the first chapter of three - Dedicated to my good friend @hidetheremote . You da best! Thank you for talking, listening and joining my salty rants! There’s two more chapters, so I hope you enjoy as much this as much as I loved writing in a fandom you adore. This section is about 5000 words ~ ^^
Obi spat, the thin stream of saliva and blood mixing with the old stains underfoot. He blocked out the shouts - some encouragement, some invective, and all easy to ignore. He'd endured five years of training, working his way up in the mixed martial arts ranking. No way was he going to blow his chance at the championship on account of some foolish yelling. All he had to do was beat this guy and he'd be in the title fight next month.
Hungry for the win, Obi's opponent danced left in the giant metal cage they occupied. Rushing forward, the man delivered a flurry of punches in combination with side-kicks. Voice gruff, he sneered, "You look tired."
With a feral grin, Obi shook his head. "M'not, but you must be." He raised his hands to protect his face and moved closer into Staniel's reach, surprising the man.
Staniel faltered, his next punch extending into the air where Obi had been. His arm pulled back but Obi had already thrown his arm and used leverage to toss him. On his back, Staniel cursed as Obi took total control, pinning him to the mat.
The bell clanged and the referee stepped in, bellowing the count, slapping the mat with every number. "...nine, ten!"
Obi sprang up with the official, his arm raised high. The crowd cheered, chanting, hooting, whistling. It was almost perfect. He searched the stands, imagining in the far off faces the features of long-lost comrades. Forcing a smile, Obi bowed his head in thanks.
Walking slowly out of the cage, Obi ignored his aches and pains. A hot shower would soothe his body even if it also encouraged morbid introspection. The dead were going to stay dead even if they still had space in his mind.
Alone again in his apartment, Obi shrugged off his clothes, leaving them in a heap and stepped into the welcome confines of the shower. Stinging needles of hot water washed away some of his melancholy. Head bowed again, Obi thought back to happier times. He'd been so young and naive - but no longer. Life had a way of teaching a student - it was either learn or die when your job was being a bodyguard.
Hands flat against the tiled wall opposite the shower head, Obi closed his eyes and pretended his tears weren't mixing with the water. Sighing, he stood straight, soaped and rinsed his body - regret wouldn't do anything but drive him crazy.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Shirayuki shifted the collection of binders in her arms and pasted what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face. "I'm actually close to a breakthrough on one of the problem area formulas."
"How many times do I have to insist you call me by name?" Zen sat back in his padded chair, crossing his legs. "We did attend the same college, no need to be so formal."
"I'll try to remember."
"Excellent, I've decided to give you some assistance with your project." Zen smiled, hand drifting to one knee and tapping. "Our company stands to make a fortune once it's complete. That means competing companies, like Daiichi Sankyo and Otsuka Holdings, will want to keep pace by whatever means necessary."
"My team is full, sir."
"I wasn't asking-" Zen continued, as if Shirayuki's interjection hadn't happened, "-I'm telling you, as of noon today, you'll have a specialist added to your team."
"With what kind of Ph.D?" Shirayuki set her binders on the corner of the vice-president's desk, sinking into a chair. "I formed this team myself, we've got all the major talent we need."
"He's a security specialist." Zen nodded in time with his still tapping fingers, his eyes locked onto Shirayuki's gaze. "This is non-negotiable. The amount of profit is astronomical - and you're our main asset."
"Let me understand, you're assigning me some sort of bodyguard?" Shirayuki pinched the bridge of her nose. "There's no way I need some beef-brained, thick-witted muscle bound moron underfoot in my lab or interfering with my team."
"I promise to spend most of my time improving my feeble brain and keeping out of your way."
Shirayuki whipped her head around, mouth dropping open. The man in the doorway wore dark dress pants and a crisp white shirt, fitted to show off a lithe figure - no bulky or ostentatious muscles - a fit and firm body. Blushing, she grit her teeth and ignored the jump of rocks in her stomach. "Adding a person at this late stage will upset my workers."
"Don't overestimate your role, Shirayuki." Zen chuckled and waved the newcomer to the other chair. "All management is on board with this decision - Obi here will become your personal assistant."
"With all due respect," Shirayuki fought to keep her voice level, "I have no need of an assistant. What I said earlier is still true. I -"
"If I may, sir?" Obi picked up the binders on the corner of Zen's desk. "We'll leave first." He stood with an impassive face, leading the way from the private office, through the maze of cubicles in the main part and down the corridor towards the area kept secured for members of the bioengineering team.
More than a bit pissed over following her unwanted 'assistant,' Shirayuki lengthened her stride, intending to pass. "I don't need you to carry my stuff. I'm capable of managing my own possessions."
Voice dry, Obi said, "Such big words from a smart science nerd. Are you sure this muscle-bound moron will understand?" Obi stopped and held out his burden to his new boss. "If you want your notes, please take them - but how else are you going to explain my presence to your team?"
Shirayuki reached to grab them - hands out, she hesitated, thinking. She huffed and jammed her hands into her lab coat. "I'll get rid of you somehow."
Amicably, like he hadn't challenged Shirayuki, Obi smiled. "Once this job finishes, I'll go away. You're not the only one displeased with this arrangement." Binders held against his chest once again, Obi inclined his head to the still fuming woman. "After you, boss."
Shirayuki hunched over her laptop and stared at the group designed molecule, comparing it to the previous incarnation and checking her notes for discrepancies. Imelda tapped her on the shoulder, making Shirayuki jump.
"Sorry boss, we're taking a lunch break."
"Cafeteria?" Shirayuki pulled up another diagram. "Bring me whatever." She focussed back into her work.
"We're going stir-crazy," Imelda waved her hand in front of the screen. "Raj is insisting on taking us to his cousin's place. We'll be back a bit late - you don't want to come, do you?"
"I'm two ideas away from solving the last problem." Belatedly Shirayuki remembered to smile and look at her second-in-command. "You guys go and have fun - you've been working really hard. You may as well come back even later. Go rest your brains." She made a shooing motion, and waved goodbye to her team.
The private powder room door opened and Obi exited, wiping his hands on his borrowed lab coat. "You sent them to lunch without you again. Don't they ever wonder why you stay on company premises? Normal people like taking time away from work."
"They'd be more surprised if I joined them." Shirayuki took off her glasses, absently cleaning them on the hem of her shirt. "It's more expedient for me to eat in the cafeteria. I hate losing time to food when I could be solving more important issues." She looked up in shock as Obi filched her glasses with dexterity any pickpocket would envy. Squinting, she frowned in confusion.
"You mean to tell me you're an antisocial nerd?" Obi blew a puff of air on Shirayuki's glasses. Pulling a proper lens cleaning cloth from his jacket, he polished and presented the cleaned glasses to Shirayuki. "You should let your personal assistant buy you lunch."
Skepticism warred with hunger - stomach rumbling, Shirayuki saved her progress and locked the laptop. "Might be the only thing you're good for."
Obi smiled and said nothing, allowing his boss to walk in front. For all her prickly attitude towards him and his assignment, Shirayuki treated her teammates well - and worked a damn sight harder than he'd expected. Not that he thought all beautiful women were lazy - no, he'd done his homework after taking the bodyguard job. Shirayuki came from a monied family. Wealth, status and impeccable breeding - she didn't need to work. This woman wanted to make the world a better place and had applied her smarts to learning something that would benefit everyone.
Maybe he shouldn't enjoy how her hips swayed as she walked. Her figure, even hidden as it was under a lab coat - it was curved in all the right places. Obi shoved down his appreciation into the box he'd labelled 'late night fun time.' She wasn't the spoiled rich princess he'd feared - but she was far out of his reach. His pedigree was muddy while hers was golden.
Halfway to the cafeteria, the Vice-President of Fujisawa Corporation stepped into their path. "Hello, Shirayuki and Obi!" Zen smiled warmly at Shirayuki and exchanged nods with Obi. "I have some business matters to discuss with you, Obi."
"We're going to grab lunch in the cafeteria right now, care to join us?" Shirayuki, still ruminating about polypeptides and molecular bonds, missed the serious undertones in Zen's words.
"Go save us a good seat, I'll join you soon." Obi waved off Shirayuki, keeping his inner glee hidden as her nostrils flared and she stomped away. Beautiful, smart, and prone to quick flare-ups of temper (as befitting her fiery red hair).
Zen wasted no time after shutting his office door. "I need you to provide twenty-four hour coverage." He strode to his desk, hand slightly trembling as he dug a key out of his pocket and unlocked the topmost drawer. "Here, take a look at this."
Face impassive, Obi read the threatening letter. He offered it back to Zen, "She's not going to take this well."
"She needs to be protected from knowing there's a death threat against her. You're getting paid well to shield her body, you can shield her mind too." Zen put the letter back. "She's not just a valuable employee, she's...she's special."
"I understand, sir." Obi took note of the light flush on Zen's cheeks, the man's starry eyes and wistful smile. "Shirayuki is a one-of-a-kind woman. Er, person."
"You were right the first time, she's a wonderful woman." Zen dropped into his chair and sighed, rubbing his forehead. "By any means necessary, keep her safe."
"Good work guys! Tomorrow is the weekend and that means I don't want to see anyone at work." Shirayuki laughed as several of her team parroted the same thing back to her, cautioning her against becoming a workaholic. "Fine, fine! I'll see you Monday." She waved them off, smiling.
"You going to take your own advice?" Obi smirked. Shirayuki had forgotten he was in the lab - or was he that good at staying silent? Either way, it was cute how she'd clutched her chest and glared at him.
This week of bodyguarding had been both heaven and hell. Miss Shirayuki was smart, personable and extremely capable - especially in regards to her work. Thinking about her, Obi had decided to keep a wall between them - needing the formal type of address to remind himself that the red-haired, smart, talented woman was above his reach.
Obi came to love watching her eyes light with passion as she wrote equations; the tip of her tongue making an appearance as she concentrated, how she'd push up her glasses and squint. It was hellish to be so close and be denied the physical contact he was dreaming of nightly.
"I know how to relax." Shirayuki lifted her chin. "See you Monday, unless you'd rather quit right now. Zen is blowing this product launch out of proportion. I don't need a babysitter."
"I'm sure you think that." Obi crossed his arms over his chest. "But you haven't ever tried my relaxation program."
"I'm good." Shirayuki's voice was flat and showed disinterest. "I have chores to do and no time to waste on you."
"Huh, didn't know you were a coward." Obi shrugged and waited - Shirayuki's nostrils flared. Oh, she was hooked. "For someone so smart, you're not willing to try other methods? Far be it for this muscle-bound moron to call you on your bullshit." Game. Set. Match. He made a show of checking his pockets for keys and tipped an imaginary hat. "See you Monday. Coward."
Shirayuki ground her teeth and seethed. What a high-handed, smug, sexy and rude bastard. "I'm not a coward."
"Good news, you're gonna love my relaxation program." Obi offered the woman under his care his arm. "Step this way."
Not exactly sure why she was going with Obi, Shirayuki decided she'd slip off once she got bored. A simple distraction and her unwanted personal assistant would never notice her leaving. Allowing him to take her somewhere was an anomaly. It had nothing to do with how cute the man looked. Nope! Nor his earnestness, or even how much she'd wondered about what he did on his own time. Uh-uh. This was her learning more about an opponent.
The sounds and smell of the underground gym hit Shirayuki hard. She'd been confused why it was several levels below the surface - and all Obi had said in answer to her questions was, 'no special reason.'
"Is there something wrong with the ventilation system?" Shirayuki did her best to breathe from her mouth. "I can recommend several new versions of air scrubbers - when's the last time this was serviced?"
Obi chuckled, ignoring Shirayuki's questions. The more he delayed answers, the more she'd be inclined to stay - or at least not want to escape at the first chance. He nodded to several competitors in greeting, making progress towards one of his oldest friends. "Beatrice! I'm glad to see you're still here at this hour."
"Well, ifn' it isn't our mysterious loner." Beatrice smirked, setting her weights onto the bar support. "What brings you here with a visitor? Not your usual Friday night type of date, now is it?"
"Date? No!" Obi flushed, his eyes widening as he looked back and forth between the two women. "This isn't a date - she's my current boss in need of some relaxation."
Shirayuki shifted her weight, lips pressed in a straight line. An uncomfortable minute passed. "Obi thinks I don't know how to relax." Her words were offered to Beatrice, but her savage look was given to Obi. "He's wrong."
"Yes," Beatrice nodded, "I can see that. Obi is so clueless when it comes to introductions though, wouldn't you say? Your name is?"
Face even redder, Obi rubbed his forehead. "Sorry Beatrice, may I introduce Miss Shirayuki of Fujisawa Corporation?"
Shirayuki thrust out her hand to the other woman, "Call me Yuki, pleased to meet you. No need to stand on outdated formalities."
"Agreed." Beatrice took note of Yuki's strong grip and enthusiastic shaking. "A pleasure for me as well. This gym could do with more females who know their own minds."
A bit chagrined, Obi looked like a deer caught in headlights. "I was wondering if you had a spare workout outfit to lend?"
"What's wrong with yours? Don't you keep extra spares?"
"Of course I do - but it's not really proper for me to offer man's clothes for a lady." Obi wished very hard for the floor to swallow him. "They're clean but not meant -"
"Clothes are just clothes." Shirayuki wasn't sure if she'd surprised herself more or Obi. "As long as they're clean - no big deal if they're men's or lady's." She smiled at Beatrice and dropped her expression down to borderline polite to look at Obi. "It's a bit more than rude to expect to borrow someone else's clothes without asking beforehand."
"I like her." Beatrice pinched Obi's cheek. "You should try to not fuck this up." She laid back on the bench and grasped her barbell, "I'm in the middle of my workout, so if you don't mind, I need my 'me' time." One smooth motion and Beatrice hoisted her weights. She winked at Obi. "Talk to ya later - maybe meet up when you and Miss Yuki have reconciled your differences?"
Obi met Beatrice's stare with a sinking stomach. "Yeah, that'll be soon, I'm sure."
Beatrice hummed noncommittally as she continued with her workout, dismissing Obi and Yuki from her mind - secure that sometime soon she'd be meeting up with them under vastly different circumstances. A more harmonious and happy sort - the kind you bring up in a toast to the bride and groom. She disguised a snort of laughter as effort and continued her bench presses.
Isolated in the empty changeroom, Shirayuki looked at the armful of clothes Obi had given her and smiled. Plain but serviceable t-shirt and shorts, dull blue in colour - but fashioned of moisture-wicking fabrics. She dropped them on the bench and took off her work clothes. Tonight was going to be interesting - and she'd never been so enthused to work-out before.
Obi hurried into his second set of gym clothes. Shirayuki had seemed interested in working out - but he'd be damned to take her acquiesce at face-value. If she was lying and ran out now, she might be captured by the scum threatening her life - and that would haunt him forever.
"I'm going to show you my usual work-out." Obi nodded, "Miss Yuki, this shouldn't be any harder than you can manage."
"How hard do you go at it on a regular day?" Shirayuki made sure to smile sweetly. "I'm sure I can keep up. Don't hold back on my account."
"Fine." Obi marched over to an unattended machine, adjusted the weights and changed the incline of the bench.
Shirayuki watched him, her smile losing its wattage as more people left the gym. "What's up with the mass exodus?"
"Friday nights aren't as busy - some people go out on dates instead of working around the clock like nerds." Shrugging, Obi pretended not to see Shirayuki frown. "Are you sure you should use such fancy words with a big dummy like me?"
"Don't distract me."
"Wouldn't dream of it." His dry delivery was at odds with Obi's smirk. He would dream of Yuki - and his imagination would spook her like nothing else. "This is a very simple machine, I would guess you've used something like this before."
"Obviously." Shirayuki tugged on the bottom of her borrowed shirt. "Who hasn't?" She gestured at her bodyguard to move aside. "All the time."
Obi hid his smile as Shirayuki sat backwards on the bench and did a very poor job of hiding her search for work instructions. She moved her feet further apart and made a show of rolling her shoulders and then tightening her shoelaces.
"All the time?"
"No. How long were you going to let me struggle?"
"I'll use it first - you watch and learn. Get up." Obi then sat facing forward and gripped the handles, admiring the attractive picture Shirayuki made. She stood with hands on hips, her little frown all the more adorable as she chewed her bottom lip. Obi demonstrated five reps. "Now you try."
Shirayuki nodded and sat, gripping the handles tight.
"Relax, no one's gonna try to take them from you!" Obi laid a hand on Shirayuki's shoulder, "Is this too much? There's lots of treadmills we could use instead."
"I've never enjoyed the more complicated gym machines." Shirayuki released her death grip, wiping her hands on her thighs. "I let my competitive nature get the best of me - but I don't mind if you get your workout in. I can get myself home from here." She made to rise, stopped by Obi moving closer - his face, normally so impassive, clearly chagrined.
"Hey, I was a little bit pushy too. But my offer stands - exercising makes for a great release of endorphins." In the back of his mind, Obi wondered how hard Shirayuki would slap him if he suggested the other (and better to his way of thinking) method to achieve peace. Damn, that would be glorious.
"It's been a long week, and I know I've had enough of your company." Shirayuki let a bitter smile twist her lips. "And I'm not in the mood to be babysat further."
"And here I thought we were connecting on a friendship level." Obi joked, forcing gaiety into his voice and actions. He shrugged, taking a big step backward. "Miss Ph.D. is a coward."
"Fine - I'll be running laps on a treadmill and you knock yourself out on that contraption." Shirayuki stood and raised her chin. "You'd better add more weights - after all, it isn't a good workout if you don't struggle."
"Pfft. Thanks for the words of wisdom." Obi watched Shirayuki secure a treadmill, pleased it was close - and began a light gym routine that switched him from machine to machine, all ringing Yuki's treadmill.
An hour of covert spying and exercise later, Obi, drenched in sweat (more from nerves than exhaustion) was dying for a shower. Shirayuki had cooled down from her run twenty minutes ago and was openly staring as Obi continued to use more equipment. Was he a bit of an exhibitionist, or was he pathetic? Why would someone so smart and talented care about him? If nothing else, Obi knew he wasn't that unattractive. Miss Yuki might at the very least decide to slum and sample his wares. Heh, Obi knew he was being ridiculous.
An itch between his shoulder blades made Obi wary. He inspected the perimeter of the gym for suspicious activity; only two men working together, one as a spotter and the other lifting. He'd lived long enough as a bodyguard not to ignore those sorts of sensations. Lived - that was the operative word. Taking a precaution that others deem unnecessary could be the difference between a big fat bonus cheque or riding in place of honour in a funeral procession.
"Babe!" Obi knew Shirayuki would respond - very possibly loudly - immediately.
"Sweetie-nugget," Shirayuki answered through gritted teeth. "Have you lost your mind?" She moved closer, arms crossed.
In for a penny, in for a pound. "Babe, you can yell at me later. Right now, you should listen to your man."
Obi stood and placed his hands on Shirayuki's shoulders, leaning within kissing distance. Praying it looked like he was fooling around, Obi whispered instructions. "We're leaving now - and whatever happens, follow my lead."
Her sweet breath tickled his ear, and Obi fought to control his libido. He was a battle-hardened assassin dammit - why did this woman derail him from his purpose?
"I noticed those two guys too - they're both big and bulky but only using half the weights you set for me."
Damn, Shirayuki was every inch a brilliant person. "We want to give them the slip without alerting them. Let's go and allow them to follow - but we'll cut and run once we move past the exit."
Shirayuki giggled, her lips dangerously close to Obi's ear for his peace of mind. Softly, she said, "You'll pay for this later."
"I can live with that." Obi prayed his luck would hold as he gave her a hug. "Might as well run the tab, huh? We'll act like lovers. Can you manage? You want your work badge, right?"
"You know you're dead, right? And yeah, I can't let that fall into the wrong hands. I could cancel it, but ..."
"Later. We'll discuss it later." Obi caught Shirayuki's hand and laced his fingers with hers. Making sure to take slow and easy strides, he lead her to the women's locker room. Taking care to seem oblivious to the two threats, Obi kept his back to them - as if he was totally unconcerned. He fished out his phone and began browsing.
Holding her street clothes and personal possessions to her chest, Shirayuki came out of the locker room. "I'm ready."
Obi kept hold of his phone, pretending to pay attention to that more than where they were going. "My keys are on me - there's nothing else I need to retrieve. Take my arm and play girlfriend, okay?"
Sensing Yuki wanted to argue but knew it wasn't workable now, Obi gave himself a personal bonus. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and placed his hand over where Shirayuki had attached herself to his upper arm. "You're a nasty girl! Can't believe you like knockin' boots before getting clean!"
They were mere steps away from the exit. The two burly men appeared to be discussing which machine to use next - as they ambled closer and closer to the exit as well.
"Takes one to know one!" Shirayuki felt flustered. She knew her reply didn't quite make sense, but it was the best she could currently manage.
In the gym's foyer, Obi hustled his charge down the corridor leading to the front entrance. "Hurry, they'll most likely split to cover both the front and back. If we can get out of sight sooner, so much the better."
Hands on the door, they both heard heavy footfalls pounding closer.
"Shit!" Obi thrust Shirayuki out first and clicked his car remote. Halfway down the block his vehicle chirped and unlocked. "Run faster!"
Obi looked over his shoulder - the larger of the two thugs was fumbling with some kind of sidearm. Together they pelted towards the car, Obi rolling over the hood to take the driver's side and Shirayuki collapsing into the passenger seat.
Two soft 'thwups' made the car shake. "Get down, more!" Obi jammed the key into the ignition and peeled away from the curb, laying smoke and rubber. Three more 'thwups' - dinging the bumper and breaking a tail light.
"I'm gonna have to assume they know where you live - I can't bring you to your home until they're neutralized." Obi glanced at Shirayuki. She was hugging her clothes like her life depended on it. Reaching over slowly, Obi patted her shoulder. "Lucky you, we're besties until this is solved."
"Did they change the definition of lucky? If not my place, then yours? There's got to be a better choice."
Obi was relieved to hear a bit of Shirayuki's attitude make a return. If she could make jokes it meant that she was rebounding from the horror of the two goons shooting at them. "You haven't seen my place, so don't diss my digs."
"Either I make snarky comments or I start freaking out. Your choice, sweetie-nugget." Shirayuki giggled, high-pitched and going higher.
"Call me darling." Obi glanced at his charge - she was caught off-guard by his comment. Now for some more foolishness. "My love, honey, or even dear would be acceptable. But don't call me late to dinner."
Shirayuki realized she was digging her fingernails into her street clothes, ruining them. She released her grip and let them slide down her legs. Only turning her head, she stared at her bodyguard. "You must be joking."
"Not joking." Obi took the next left and zipped down a small street - more of a lane, actually. "Well, a bit. Feeling better?"
"Yeah...I am." Her nerves were still jangling, but more from imagining herself using those endearments on Obi. More exactly, from imagining an intimate encounter with him...bare limbs twisted together...satiated...heated bodies and a climax scream torn from her throat after an hour of foreplay. Was this her body's reaction after encountering danger?
"I've got a defendable safe house - perfect for this situation." Obi let his tone grow jocular as he tested Shirayuki's resilience. "Unless you'd rather run away with me to some decadent top-flight hotel?" He gunned the engine and took a corner with more zip than needed. "Thanks for the silent vote of hell-to-the-no."
Shirayuki shook her head and slumped in her seat. "Take me wherever you need. I'm not going to be thinking and using logic until my heart makes its way back into my ribcage."
okokok so - the amaaazing @hearticho gave me permission to do an AU for her prompt, and she maybe did not know what she was letting herself in for, because I have wanted to write a star wars AU for ages.
BUT it has somehow been really tricky and I’ve been slow with it. So even though it’s unfinished, here is the first bit for you, and I promise more is coming!
(thank you so so much to @rtarara for reading through this and giving me some much needed advice o.o)
Kara reaches for her braid, a nervous gesture built on the habit of eight years, and is surprised all over again when her fingers find nothing but short tufts of hair. She tucks them behind her ear to cover the misstep, although there’s no one in the hallway to see but her. It’s already been missing for a week—she wonders how long it will take her to get used to the change, and to everything it represents. She should find it easier to flow with change than she does—she’s not a padawan anymore.
She squares her shoulders and moves forward through the gray halls. She’s been summoned to a council meeting, which means that she’s about to be assigned her first mission without Cat. She’s trying to be happy about it, but the long wide corridors of the temple feel shockingly empty without Cat’s muttering snarky comments at her side. Have they always been this somber? This imposing?
She’s grateful for the sound of someone else’s footsteps, and then she feels a familiar presence in the force just a moment before Lena Luthor turns the corner. Kara takes a moment to drink her in. It’s been years since she’s seen Lena—not more than twice since they were crechelings together. Master Rhea was such a valued diplomat, she was always taking long-term missions off-planet, which meant Lena rarely made it back to the Padawan halls.
She looks older, now—which makes sense, since she is older. She’s still beautiful, in that classic way that makes her almost as imposing as the temple itself. Her hair is clipped short, emphasizing the long planes of her face, the shadows under her eyes. Kara can feel the heaviness of her in the air—Lena is not hiding her grief well.
Well, Kara wouldn’t be either. Everyone has heard the story now of what happened to Master Rhea, of how Lena earned her knighthood.
They come closer in the hallway, and Lena is so lost in thought that she still hasn’t noticed Kara’s presence—unusual for a Jedi, who ought to be aware of their surroundings at all times through the force. She looks preoccupied. Kara gives her another second, and then decides it’s more awkward to brush past an old acquaintance without acknowledgement than it is to interrupt.
“Lena,” she calls out, voice friendly. “It’s so wonderful to see you!” Lena starts; she seems to bolt back into the present, collecting herself quickly. Her face, startled for that split second, smooths rapidly back into an emotionless cold.
“Knight Danvers,” she nods. “My congratulations on your new rank.”
“You too,” Kara answers. Lena flinches almost imperceptibly, and Kara wants to smack herself. How do you congratulate somebody on the death of their master? “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she adds, and hopes Lena can hear the sincerity in her voice.
“Yes, well—thank you,” Lena answers, her voice clipped, and she brushes past, unceremoniously ending the conversation. Kara can sense her desperation to escape, and lets her go.
She puts the encounter out of her head for her meeting with the council. There’s no room in their chamber for distractions. Her place in the center of the room feels larger, emptier without Cat taking up half of it, but Kara’s getting used to that extra empty space, and she bows her head to the appropriate angle. Out of the corner of her eye she can see J’onn’s little smile, like he’s proud of her, and it bolsters her confidence. She knows how to interact with the council, knows her place here.
“Knight Danvers,” Yoda greets her with that enigmatic smile. “Treating you well, knighthood is?”
“I am finding my footing, Master,” she answers honestly. “I’m ready for a mission, if you have one for me.”
“That’s more our judgment to make than yours,” J’onn tells her dryly, but after years of listening to Cat bicker with him, Kara knows better than to take his disapproving words to heart.
“Have a mission for you, we do,” Yoda confirms, ignoring J’onn’s words entirely. “What have you heard about Daxam?”
“I know that last year peace talks fell apart and it broke into civil war,” Kara answers hesitantly. She knows more than that, but the council is typically disdainful of the temple rumor mill. Is it better to be honest or to be respectful?
“It’s alright, Knight Danvers—you won’t say anything we haven’t already heard,” Plo Kloon tells her gently, and Kara nods.
“Alright. Then I know that Master Rhea was there negotiating peace, and was killed by a rebel group. I know that Le- Padawan Luthor was forced into hiding, and that over the next months she was able to talk both sides into renegotiating a standstill. She earned her knighthood from it.”
“That’s the gist of it,” J’onn agrees with a heavy sigh. He and Rhea had clashed frequently, Kara suddenly remembers. That’s from the rumor mill, too—she’d never seen it in person, but everyone knew how openly Rhea disdained J’onn’s integrationist politics.
“Falling into peril, the peace declaration is,” Yoda informed her. “Send Knight Luthor back, we must, but fear for her well-being, we do.”
“You’re sending Lena back?” Kara repeats, stunned enough to momentarily forget that she has no permission to use that name. Lena will always be what she is called in Kara’s mind— the name that represents the beautiful, brilliant girl Kara had followed around the creche as a child. Kara can’t believe they would be cruel enough to send her back into the warzone that had produced her master’s grave—can’t they see how shadowed she is by grief?
“It’s got to be her,” J’onn says grimly. “She’s put long months into forging relationships there. The peace is too precarious to waste time starting from scratch. Don’t forget that she’s a Jedi Knight—she can handle her emotions.”
“We hope,” Eeth Koth mutters under his breath, and Yoda turns to glare at him, rapping his stick one against the floor in reprobation.
“Her brother, Knight Luthor is not,” he states sharply. “Nonetheless, concerned for her, we are. It is a large sacrifice that we ask. Accompany her, you will, Knight Danvers.”
“I’m… going with her?” Kara squeaks.
“Knight Luthor knows the situation on Daxam intimately, and she is well equipped to act as mediator for them,” J’onn tells her. “But it’s poised to tip back into a warzone at any moment, and fighting has never been her strong suit. You are there as her protector, essentially."
Lena’s protector. Kara counts in groups of four to steady her breath. J’onn is looking at her like he knows something is up, and Yoda always looks at everybody like he knows something is up, but Kara keeps her breath even and releases her turmoil—she will meditate on it later. This is a good first mission for her. She’s an excellent fighter, it will play to her strengths and let her follow a more experienced knight’s lead until she gets a feel for being on her own in the field.
“I accept my assignment and thank you, masters,” she says formally, giving a slight bow.
“Hmph,” Yoda mutters. “Leave tomorrow, you will. A long flight to Daxam, it is—plenty of time then will you have for Knight Luthor to brief you.”
They let her leave without much ceremony, sending her off to pack. A night isn’t much preparation time, but it’s standard for knights without padawans. She’ll have to get used to it.
It’s a good assignment, Kara reiterates to herself as she goes back to her quarters. It’s exactly her skill set, if punching people counts as a skill set, and Kara thinks it does. Still, her mind is buzzing like it’s full of insects, and after a moment of hesitation, she grabs a heavy cloth bag out of the corner and turns around.
It’s late evening and the temple gardens are still highly populated, with even a few crechelings still running around playing a chasing game. Kara finds a quiet spot around the corner of the east wing and sets up her easel, switching on its virtual canvas. A piece of paper shimmers into view, and she dumps paint onto her canvas—reds and blues and blacks, because she is out of anything related to yellow.
Cat taught her this method of meditating, when Kara was 14 and carrying too many burdens that she didn’t know how to put down. She reaches out with her senses and focuses on getting the world around her onto paper. She starts with what’s around her, focusing in on the easy low humming of the grass, the colorful tumult of temple life walled off behind her, the children getting tired but pushing along in their game with gleeful stubbornness. Slowly, she lets her mind branch out, focusing on the sense of color, of shape, as she reads the lines of traffic circling beneath them through Coruscant’s middle levels, and then pulls herself back into detail, into the mold spores growing along the roots of a temple vine, the warning cry it sends out to its fellows, the worms in the soil beneath it.
She focuses on the fury of life that surrounds her, on how she can translate it to her canvas, until everything else is pushed out and she is encompassed by the living force. She loses track of herself as a separate entity, finds herself as one pulsing point of light in the ever-changing rhythm of the universe.
Only then, at peace within the force, does she examine her own discontent. A mission with Lena—or rather, a mission with Knight Luthor, all grown up and complicated.
Kara was eight the first time she met Lena Luthor. Eight was the age when crechelings moved into mixed dormitories and started to interact with children who weren’t in their year. Lena, nine years old with her pointed chin and fiery eyes, had seemed very old and wise by comparison. Kara had been captivated by her.
It hadn’t been mutual. Kara’s not entirely sure that Lena knew who she was when they were young. Lena was eons ahead of the rest of their age-group when it came to technology, bolstered by a keen mind and a natural grasp on the unified force. To solidify the gap, Lena’s brother Lex was sixteen and a padawan. He and his friends doted on Lena, let her hang around with them in the workshop fixing speeders. There was never a reason for Lena to so much as glance Kara’s way.
It wasn’t as though Kara’s feelings were particularly hurt. She had other friends. But somehow the steady pulse of Lena in the force called out to her, distracted her and mesmerized her. There was something about Lena’s presence that even as a child, Kara recognized as beauty. Kara would wander by the temple’s garage and hear her easy laughter, see the smear of grease across her cheek as she argued with Lex about wiring, and long for something she couldn’t put a name to. For attachment .
And then when Lex was eighteen, and Lena was eleven, and Kara was ten, Lex fell to the dark side.
He was jealous—that was the whisper around the temple. He’d come second to Clark one too many times, had let his resentment fester until it led him down the wrong path. Nobody really knew what happened. (Maybe Lena did.)
Kara certainly never heard more detail than that. All she knew was that she attended Lex’s funeral pyre, in a small frightened huddle with the rest of the creche, and watched the fire burn away something that Lena wasn’t going to get back.
Now, seeing Lena in the hallway with her face shadowed by another loss, Kara understands her better than she did as a child. She understands herself better now, too.
Kara has four biological children. They were born when she was fifteen, and they aren’t hers, not really, they’re just from her eggs. After Krypton exploded, the survivors reached out to the temple; they needed all the genetic diversity they could get, if they were going to continue as a species.
Kara donated. She has no connection to those children, and no connection to Krypton either really, but she feels their presence all the same, feels their joy echoing through the force when they are happy. She reaches for them often, almost an instinct. They have become a centering presence; the living force is found through connection, after all.
Lena may have been Kara’s first unrequited love, but she isn’t her last. There's a kind of strength, Kara has found, in accepting that and loving people anyways.
Her meditation lasts through the night. Kara releases it at last, reluctantly, when she feels the plants around her start preparing for the return of the sun, and falls back into her individuality.
“Good morning,” she says. Lena is next to her—has been for at least an hour, but her presence hadn’t been disturbing in the least, and it’s not until now that Kara thinks to question it.
“Good morning,” Lena answers hesitantly. “I like your painting—it’s beautiful.”
Kara glances at it, smiles tolerantly. It’s not beautiful—it’s layered and haphazard, a journey that was never meant to lead to any final destination. But it’s nice of Lena to say so all the same.
“Thanks,” she says. “It’s Coruscant, I suppose.”
“Through the living force. I could tell.” There’s a bit of wistfulness in Lena’s voice as she adds, “it’s not the side of the force I’m most in tune with, it’s nice to see it through someone else’s eyes.”
“We all have our own perspectives,” Kara allows. “Master Grant - Cat - taught me to do this on my first mission. It’s always helped me ground myself.”
“I feel the same way fixing engines sometimes,” Lena says. “Just letting the force guide me through something - it’s a different kind of meditation. Nothing our creche-masters would have approved of, but effective.” There’s a wicked little tilt to her lips as she says it, and Kara knows she and Lena are thinking of the same memory - Lena had probably driven Master Po Tena to an early retirement when they were children.
“You weren’t really keen on earning their approval anyways,” Kara says, and they share a smile.
“I’m sorry I was short with you yesterday,” Lena says abruptly. She turns and looks out at the sky, where the beginnings of dawn are just getting strong enough to show against the constant artificial light of Coruscant. “The council had just informed me of our mission, and I was struggling to accept it. I am not looking forward to going back to Daxam, although I accept it as my duty.”
There are hard lines drawn along Lena’s face. She is tense. Gently, Kara leans over and nudges Lena’s shoulder with her own.
“I’m glad I can go with you,” she says softly. “We’re going to get you through this.” Lena doesn’t answer, but she pushes back, so that their sides are pressed together. They stand and watch the sunrise in silence, and then Kara goes to pack.
Convinced that Sharon and Steve are going to screw up when they start dating, Natasha and Bucky tag along in secret to offer encouragement, whether Sharon and Steve want it or not.
