An overly packed Rachel walked into Brody’s dorm room with an armful of bags in her arms. For a three day weekend where she probably wasn’t going to be using much clothes, she had packed like she would for anything. Packing shoes, clothes, necessities that she needed, although she probably wouldn’t need ninety percent of the stuff she packed. Seeing as he was roommate free for the weekend, Rachel set her things down on Brody’s roommates bed, her eyes scanning the empty dorm room. The brunette was so ecstatic that the weekend was finally here especially after all the teasing her and Brody had been doing over texts and everything. She couldn’t wait to do all the things she and Brody had discussed. Now the only question was did they just do it here and never leave the dorm all weekend or make things more interested and find some interesting locations across campus. After all Brody did say she could very well use some one on one coaching dance lessons. Hmm the possibilities were endless.
Rachel sat down on her bed, her eyes scanning the quiet room. She pulled her phone out of her purse and texted Brody.
“Where art thou, Weston” she texted.
“Starting our weekend off by myself. I guess I can keep your bed warm and find some interesting ways to pre-occupy myself ;)” she sent the next text.
Ashley had been looking forward to spending a day at the beach and she couldn’t think of anyone to spend it with than Daniel. When she got up that morning, she ate some breakfast, then got ready for the day. She put on one of her new bikini’s and packed a bag. She put in towels, sunscreen, and a few waters. She put on a flowing cover-up before slipping on her flip flops and making her way to Daniel’s room. It didn’t take her long to find the right door. She pushed the bag up on her shoulder and reached up to knock. “Hey!” she smiled when the door opened. “You ready?”
@bettymu : sent me HAUNT! for a starter where my character thinks the house is haunted.
Prompt: Jorge is convinced a stray dog went into an abandoned home and he wants to retrieve it.
“Don’t be a pussy, babe.” Jorge so rudely said as he kicked down the chain fence of an abandoned lot. He was being given a hard time for wanting to rescue a fucking dog. Jorge wasn’t very appreciative of it. All he wanted to do was go into this creepy home and find a dog and possibly her puppies. Maybe that was a little reaching, however, Jorge had been watching videos all day about how smart dogs were. It clearly had gone to his head. “Are you coming in with me or not? Fine. Stay here and get eaten by wolves or something.”
That was a bit of an exaggeration. They were just barely in a rural area outside the city.
Tesla is young, one of the youngest recruits the Agency has. When Jefferson had found her she’d been watched over by the FBI heavily. The girl had a skill that Jefferson knew given time and proper training would be a huge addition to the Agency. It had been easy to clear the girls name, it cost the agency money but Jefferson knew it would be worth it, it was what the Agency did, especially if they wanted a potential agent as good as Tesla, and Jefferson hadn’t been disappointed, at least not in her skills.
As everyone in the Agency knows, Jefferson likes rules, she likes when people follow rules and structure, Tesla is one of the few agents who doesn’t exactly follow them, she’s a little more rebellious than Jefferson would like, but the potential was there.
Jefferson makes her way to the lab quickly, she always liked to check in on her recruits, more so when they were newer to the agency, especially now when it was so close to the recruits finding their field of interest, and she wants to make sure Tesla is handling things well. She finds her quickly enough in the Chemistry Lab and moves to her station, “Agent Tesla. How are you doing?”
Life for Sam had gone from not having any company outside of his family members randomly for the last two years to having almost a month of busy weekends. He also felt a little like he was back in high school with his feelings for Mercedes resurfacing with a fierceness that he was ill-prepared for, and he was kind of indulging them even when he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t really understand how she still had such a hold over him, but it was like he couldn’t shake them. He was happy that he’d have his best friend to distract him (and probably encourage his wayward feelings), and he could focus on figuring out what was going on with Blaine and his love life.
He’d picked up Blaine up from the airport and headed back to his place after they grabbed some take-out. He’d had a long day at work, and he wasn’t really up for going out to dinner, but they’d go out the next night. Sam had big plans to get his friend nice and drunk. There was a whiskey tasting booked and going out to a nice dinner to follow. He was hoping to do a little encouraging of his own, and that was nearly a guarantee if the other guy had some liquid courage. Normally, Sam wouldn’t press so hard, but he thought Kurt was good for Blaine and that they could really go the distance if they tried, especially since Kurt was open to at least seeing where it could go and had apparently had feelings for Blaine for a long time.
Despite a long flight, Blaine was almost as wired as he was exhausted. Traveling tended to have that effect on him, so he was 100% on board with take-out and a quiet night in for his first evening in Tennessee. It had been months since he’d properly seen his best friend, anyway, so catching up with Sam was clearly a priority - especially with both of them embroiled in long distance… somethings.
At least Sam and Mercedes were in the same time zone. Finding time to call or Skype with Kurt was challenging with a three-hour time difference. And any Skype calls were charged with an extra tension now, ever since Blaine’s drunken foray into sexting - which had probably been a terrifically bad idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Maybe Sam could keep Blaine from doing anything dumb this weekend. Or not, if his prodding about Kurt lately was any indication. Blaine could always counter with Sam’s Instagram adventures with Mercedes, though, so maybe they could keep each other in check.
Or maybe they’d just be terrible influences on each other. That was always an option, too.
“I’m gonna need at least an hour of good solid bro-time before we do anything else,” Blaine announced solemnly as they settled in. “With or without video games, movie marathons also optional, but I need to get caught up on everything Sam Evans, stat.”
With a laugh, Sam took a bite of his food. “There’s like not much to update you on. Work’s great. I love my office. I love my coworkers...well most of them anyway.” He paused, his bluish-green eyes shifting as he tried to recall if anything in particular was worth mentioning, but he came up empty. “Other than that, everything’s the same. What about you? How’s Coop? How’s work? How’s Kurt? Have you made any progress on the moving thing?” He gave Blaine a pointed look with a hint of a grin before he took a bite of his food.
Blaine returned Sam’s look with a nonplussed expression of his own. “I’m researching. Does that count as progress?” he asked wryly. “Coop’s as weird as ever, work is fairly steady for not having a full-time position, and Kurt is… Kurt,” he added with a sigh. “I know for a fact that you’ve been having more visitors than just me, though - so you’ve had a more eventful few months than I have,” Blaine pointed out with a skeptical lift of one expressive eyebrow.
Sam couldn’t help but grin at the mention of Mercedes’ visits, but he tried to hide it quickly. He didn’t need Blaine to know just how good he’d felt about those visits or the ones that were to come. “I guess that counts as progress. I mean...Mercedes said she’d help you figure out the job thing if you wanted the help. So at least you’d have other people there besides Kurt, right?” Sam hadn’t remained close to anyone outside of Blaine and Quinn, whom he’d seen infrequently on visits to Los Angeles when he was visiting the other man. “We’re just friends that hang, just like you’re here to hang. Unless...you’re here for other reasons?” It was a joke he sometimes made with Blaine after he’d admitted one drunken night that he’d had a tiny crush on him once.
Blaine groaned and shot Sam a playful glare. “You caught me. I’m definitely here to see if you hang around shirtless in your bed with ALL your ‘friends that hang’,” he air-quoted. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but isn’t Mercedes going on tour soon? After the new year?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to pile anything else on her plate, especially if it’s not really feasible in the first place. I’d have to shell out a couple of hundred bucks and actually BE in New York to take these licensing exams anyway, and that’s just the start.”
“Hey, I’m secure enough in my sexuality to cuddle my bro shirtless,” Sam said in a jokingly defensive way, holding up his hands. “Sometimes your bro just needs to cuddle in the arms of a strong man that happens not to be wearing a shirt, and...I’m here for you, sidekick.” He winked, laughing before he reached for his drink. “Well, she is, but that’s not til right after my birthday. How much are the tests?” He could probably help Blaine out, or he knew Cooper would if he needed it.
Blaine couldn’t help but laugh, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re all heart, Sam Evans,” he teased. “Still, I imagine she’s going to have enough to worry about without my career woes making an appearance.” He made a face, focusing on his own food so he wouldn’t fidget. “Somewhere around $250 for the Educating All Students and Music Content Specialty Tests. There’s also the edTPA, though, which I’m still trying to figure out, but it’s $300 for a full assessment. Coop keeps saying he’ll get me on his frequent flyer miles if I need to be in New York for testing, but that’s still a lot to take on,” he sighed.
Sam nodded along as he spoke, sobering a little as he watched several emotions chase across Blaine’s face. Sam had always been pretty good at reading his friend, and he could sense all of the emotional confusion he was feeling. “Okay, but do you want to do all of that? Is it worth all of that?” Sam asked, glancing into Blaine’s eyes. “I’m asking you to tell me what your gut is telling you to do about this because that’s all that matters.”
Blaine toyed with his fork absently. “I don’t know. It’s not like I have a full-time teaching position back in L.A., but that’s a lot of uncertainty to deal with, and a lot of out-of-pocket expense before I can even apply for jobs in New York.” He’d been deliberately ignoring Kurt as a factor, but that wasn’t really possible for long, as well as Sam knew him. “I talk to Kurt and I really, really wish I wasn’t on the other side of the country - but then I think about uprooting my whole life for a guy, even one as great as Kurt, and it just seems… kind of foolish, when we’re not even dating.” He shrugged sheepishly. “My gut is an overly romantic, impulsive mess, you know that.”
“Okay,” Sam said, sitting back so that he could really look at his friend. “You’re right. It’s crazy to uproot your life for some guy...that you don’t know. That you met on Tinder or Grindr. Not some guy you’ve been friends with for years…” He shrugged. He didn’t actually want to push too hard. “So, then don’t try. Then what happens? You’re ready to watch Kurt be with other guys and marry other guys because you were worried that you seemed to be making a crazy decision. But I guess the question is will you regret it if you try and don’t make it work? And will you regret it more if you don’t try at all?”
Blaine dropped his fork and rubbed one hand over his eyes with a grimace. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly. The thought of Kurt with other guys made his stomach twist with jealousy, but that wasn’t very fair of him, not when he wanted Kurt to be happy. “I don’t know how you deal with it, with Mercedes. I mean - if you two couldn’t make things work, I’m not sure how I can hope to,” he added sadly.
Sam set his own food aside and shook his head. “It’s not at all the same thing, and you know it. It sucked knowing she was going to marry Puck, like a lot. I didn’t want to go on that trip, but like at the same time, I just wanted to see if she was happy. Which she was...at first, I guess. Then as like the time went on, it was just good to have my friend back. I didn’t realize I’d missed her so dang much until we were back together and things hadn’t changed. So I was mostly just...grateful that we could be mature go back to being friends. Nothing had been wrong when we broke up. We just wanted different things. Nothing has happened in the last four or five years that’s changed that. So...I can admit, even to myself, that I’m still in love with her. It sucks because I know I’m not ever gonna love another woman as much as I love her because we...just work on so many levels. She’s like one of the only people in the world that just gets me and likes the same things as me. She’s the one woman in the whole world that I can be myself with 100%, but she’s got big dreams. Huge dreams that I could never forgive myself for standing in her way if I ever did that. I love her so much that I don’t want to do that to us. I don’t want us to grow apart or be resentful towards one another. I don’t wanna be left behind while she tours the world. I want a wife I come home to and children. She needs a guy that can work in her world, and I don’t work in that world.” Sam paused, feeling a bit of his heart break again as he thought about it. “I just have to keep reminding myself of that. The distance helps because she’s not here everyday. So, I can keep a bit of myself to myself. You don’t have that same issue. Nothing about your life is incompatible with Kurt’s. You just have to move. That’s it, and the problem is solved. If it doesn’t work out, well then you tried it, and it didn’t work out. I /can’t/ try it because I already know it’s not gonna work out.” He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, looking away as the weight of his words settled over him.
Blaine was silent for a long moment, digesting everything Sam said. He didn’t understand - not really, since he’d have done anything back in high school to have the kind of connection Sam had with Mercedes. He’d pushed too hard with Sebastian, trying to find it, and he was terrified that he wouldn’t find it with Kurt, either. “You and Mercedes are still friends, though, right? You’ll always be friends,” he insisted. “It sucks, and it’s never simple, but you guys have that much, no matter what.” He ducked his head, staring at the table blindly. “What if I screw this up? Not just a little, but so badly I lose Kurt as a friend in the process? And probably Sugar and Finn, too.” He lifted one shoulder helplessly. “I don’t want to regret not trying, you’re right - it’s just a lot to risk on a ‘maybe’.”
“You’re not gonna screw it up, first of all. There’s just no way you could. You’re not a jerk. You treat everyone like they’re the most important person to you, and when you care about someone, woo boy look out. So the only bad thing that could happen is it doesn’t work out. And since you’re not nearly as dramatic as they rest of them, you're definitely never gonna lose anyone else. If we can survive the mess that was senior year and the wedding that never happened, we can survive anything.” Sam gave Blaine a pointed look. “If you’re hoping for some sign of a guarantee, brother, you’re gonna be disappointed because there ain’t none. You either think Kurt’s worth the risk of putting your heart out there, or he’s not. So...which is it?”
Blaine quirked a lopsided grin at Sam. “I think I should probably hug you for thinking I’m not dramatic,” he laughed softly. “We did survive some pretty rough patches, though. As many times as we’ve seen people switch partners and break up and get together, I’m pretty sure a guarantee isn’t even remotely possible.” He sobered quickly. “Kurt deserves everything. He’s worth ten of me, I just wish I had your conviction. Any time you want to lend me a little bit of that confidence that I won’t mess everything up, I’ll gladly take it,” he added with a wry little smile. “I’ll think about it. Really think about it. The logistics alone are a lot to consider, either way, so I can’t do anything about it yet, anyway.”
Sam laughed. It was almost ironic that he had so much faith in something when he knew full well he’d never have himself. The truth of the matter was sometimes you could meet the perfect person, be together, fall in love, and it still wasn’t enough in the end, but he hoped that that meant that someone else would get his share of happiness. “You’ve got it. You just gotta figure out why you keep trying to talk yourself out of it.”
Blaine bit his lip at that. He had a pretty good idea, after the disaster of his relationship with Sebastian. Because it hurt too much when it was over, and because he’d gone to pieces. Because Kurt deserved better, and Blaine wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to give that to him. Because it seemed too good to be true — or at least too good to be real outside of his own head. “I’m pretty sure my therapist would have something to say about that,” he offered instead. “I’m going to have to tell her she’s out of a job, though, if you keep this up, Sam Evans,” he teased.
“I’m no therapist. I think it’s just good ol’ common sense. It’s like you want something to be wrong or something. I think you’re just scared, and there’s nothing wrong with being scared of putting your heart out there. It’s just are you gonna let your fear stop you from doing something that be something really great?” Sam felt like he could ask himself the same questions, but he was really certain there was just no way around getting hurt in the long run on both of their parts when it came to him and Mercedes. And he told himself he could be content with her friendship because at least she was there in his life again. He’d rather have half of her than none of her at all.
“Well, your common sense is better than mine, apparently,” Blaine admitted with a wry chuckle. He studies his hands thoughtfully. “I promised Kurt I’d visit sometime before Christmas. It couldn’t hurt to —look around? See what’s out there, which parts of the city might be affordable, where they might be hiring. If I like the city enough to actually move there.” Considering he’d nearly gone to New York for college, he probably wouldn’t hate it, at least — and it would have Sugar and Santana and Mercedes and Puck, if it came down to it. “As long as I know I could count on you coming to visit me occasionally,” he added with a grin.
Sam’s smile grew wide at Blaine’s concession. “There ya, go! Just check it out. Feel out the vibe. Maybe see if you could room with someone...like Sugar...or Puck...Santana and Mercedes, they’re out there, right? So that way, there’s like no pressure. You and Kurt can be in the same place and totally take it slow. That’s what I would do!” Now, he was thinking about what it would be like to move to New York and live and date Mercedes. That was a dangerous thought, he told himself and pushed those thoughts away.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to guilt anyone into taking on a roommate if they don’t have to,” Blaine said hastily. “But maybe - if they have suggestions?” Six months ago it might have been Kurt that he thought of first if he needed someone to split the rent - but that would be a bad idea for pretty obvious reasons, now. If he made the move, that would already be a pretty big step - no sense in making it even bigger. “Maybe one of them knows someone who needs to sublet... or something,” he added vaguely. “That can wait, though. I don’t want to say anything to any of them until I decide whether or not this is something I should do.”
Sam nodded. “I get it. You gotta do it in your own time. I don’t think you should rush into because then you’ll feel out of sorts and worried. It’s gotta feel right,” he drawled, his southern accent coming out thick and lazy. “I just want you to be open to taking a risk, but if it don’t feel right, don’t force it.” The last thing he wanted was for this to backfire and Blaine to get hurt.
“I just want to make sure I’m thinking it through, first,” Blaine promised. He made a face as he turned his attention back to his food. “You aren’t the only one trying to convince me to take a chance, though. Cooper’s been pushing for me to look into moving to New York ever since you guys were in LA for the road trip.” He shot Sam an amused look through his eyelashes. “He’s a lot less subtle about it than you are, though,” he added, tongue firmly in cheek.
“I don’t think subtle and Anderson are things that go together. I hate to tell you that, bud.” Sam grinned at his friend and shrugged. “I just want you to remember that there’s only so much thinking a guy can do before he has to shit or get off the pot and do something about it.” It was a mixed metaphor, sure, but he was sure it got his point across. “Just don’t forget to listen to your gut, and you’ll be good. You’ve got solid instincts, but you overthink a whole lot.”
Blaine stuck his tongue out at Sam for that, but laughed anyway - he had a valid point, after all. “I know - I’m not going to think about it forever, I promise, I just - don’t want to rush. I think maybe I’ll give myself until the end of the year to weight all my options, look into logistics, see what would need to be done. And if Kurt starts dating someone else before then - well, that’s just my own fault,” he sighed. “My gut has led me astray before, and Kurt’s too important to me not to give it the proper consideration.”
Sam chuckled when Blaine stuck his tongue out, but he nodded along. “I mean we all gotta make some mistakes or we’re never gonna learn anything or grow. My Granny Truitt always says that bad experiences are supposed to teach you everything you need to know to prepare you for next time. It’s supposed to make wise but not scared, or you didn’t actually learn anything. I used to think that that sounded crazy, but it turns out she was right.”
“I think your Granny Truitt sounds plenty wise herself, so she probably knows what she’s talking about,” Blaine chuckled. “It’s one thing to mess up a recipe or fail at a new hobby or something, though — my friendship with Kurt is just a lot more precious to me than any learning experience.” He lifted one eyebrow teasingly. “Does Granny Truitt have anything sage to say about Ms. Mercedes Jones, then?”
Rolling his eyes, Sam shook his head. “No, because I did the right thing with Mercedes by letting her go,” he repeated. “I’m happy, and more importantly she’s happy which makes me even happier.” He felt like a part of that was a lie, but he wasn’t going to call attention to it. “She’d just call you a chicken, you know? Kurt is probably just as concerned about all of this, you know…”
Blaine looked skeptical, but knew better that to push the issue when Sam was so insistent. “As long as you’re BOTH happy, then,” he said. With a small grimace, Blaine shook his head. “I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of being brave,” he admitted quietly. “So if the shoe fits…” he sighed. “Kurt’s… I don’t know what Kurt wants. He wanted to be just friends, but then he says things that are so far beyond ‘friendly’ that I don’t know what to think. It’s like we’re in this weird sort of limbo, where everything’s all tangled up and neither one of us actually knows what we want anymore.”
“Someone needs to make a move. I think you’re smart enough to know that it’s already beyond friends. So why are you hiding behind that?” Sam gave him a pointed look. “And how can you say you’re not brave when we both came from the same small town in the same small-minded state when people would’ve made lunch meat out of you and Kurt, but you never let that stop you. That’s pretty damn brave.”
“Whatever we are, making a move isn’t possible right now,” Blaine protested. “And even if I relocate to New York, that could take months — it’s not like I can ask Kurt to drop everything and wait for me to make a decision.” Blaine hunched his shoulders slightly, looking smaller at the reminder. “I still ran, Sam. And I don’t think I could have flourished at McKinley without you guys having my back as much as you did.”
Sam took a deep breath and really looked at his friend. “Kurt liked you for a long time, and maybe that’s a lot of pressure or something. I could see how it would be, but I think he’d understand if you said ‘if I move, I’m open to seeing where it goes,’ but you gotta decide if you even want that. It’s just a try. I just don’t want you to regret not trying is all. But hey, it’s your life. I’m just here to be that same support that you had in high school, brother.”
“Kurt likes the grown up version of Blaine, too, you know. I loved the high school version of Mercedes just as much as I enjoy the version of herself that she is now. She’s more mature and confident, but she’s still basically the same person. So is Kurt. So are you.” Sam bit back a sigh because Blaine seemed intent on being down on himself. “You were just a kid then. I had a crush on Mercedes for like two whole years, and it took me til almost senior year to ask her out. I didn’t get upset with her for not knowing. I was just happy she said yes. Just think about it. And of course I’ll always have your back.”
“Mercedes has always been fabulous, and she always will be. Kurt, too,” Blaine insisted, affection lacing his voice. His grin widened as he smirked at Sam. “Jury’s still out on you, though, Evans,” he teased, wrinkling his nose playfully with a laugh. “All joking aside, though - thanks. You really are the best.”
Sam pretended to be hurt, but he couldn’t hide his grin. “You’re right. I am the best, you’re not so bad either, Anderson,” he teased back.
It was just a basic food run. Claire was itching to get out of the bunker but they didn’t have a hunt on hand. So she decided she’d take one for the team and go out for fast food. While Sam groaned a little about having fast food again, he eventually gave in and gave Claire her order.
There was a nicer restaurant to get food a few towns away rather than the town that was closest. She needed to have a little time to just have her windows down and feel the hot Kansas air hit her face. While she really enjoyed time with the boys, everyone needed a bit of alone time. Dean understood and vise versa. They both sometimes had to have breaks and it was okay. They enjoyed both time together and apart. Although the time apart did have to be in their choice, getting separated on different terms was a form of torture for both of them.
Never in Claire’s life did she ever thing she’d ever get attached to a person as much as she is Dean. He had easily become an obsession for Claire. At first she had tried to deny the feelings, not wanting to come of terms with the idea of loving a person. Those scared feelings had long gone. Now she and Dean were learning so many things about each other, things that they wouldn’t have shared with anyone besides themselves.
Recently, Claire had been nosy. She had been at the bunker alone as the boys went to meet with an old friend. So the girl had just gone exploring around. It started innocently enough just finding little hiding places, new rooms. She found things hidden in walls, leaving them there of course after she read through them all. Soon enough she found herself back into the shared bedroom. Claire’s original idea was just to pass out in bed for a nap, but that curiosity was still lingering in the back of her mind. Before she really knew what she as doing Claire was opening up drawers just casually digging through them as if she was expecting to find some sort of diary. What she did find though was a lot more shocking, but really not in a bad way.
Her fingers had found something soft in the very back of his bottom drawer. She gently pulled them out, and between her fingers were a worn pair of panties. They were black, and at first glance the blonde could tell that they weren’t hers. They were much more worn that anything she had owned. They frankly looked quite a few years old. Her thoughts had traveled to maybe a trophy from a past relationship... but there wasn’t anyone Dean had ever mentioned in front of her. Not that she expected him to mention past flares, but something about these just looked.. off. Holding them up in front of her, it finally hit her. They were a little deformed and not deformed in the normal girl way.. no. The front was stretched, in a way that a girl’s panties wouldn’t be. Stretched in a way that could perfectly hold a certain man’s cock. There was a warm heat that pooled in her stomach at even the idea of seeing Dean where something like this. That trail of thought has been interrupted when Dean and Sam had come home.
Maybe that was why she needed the alone time. All she could think about was Dean in those panties and she desperately wanted to drop on her knees and beg him to put them on. As she pulled into town, her dreams could easily become real as she noticed one of those lingerie shops. She didn’t even hesitate when she pulled into the parking lot.
That same excitement from the day before was stirring in her belly again. She made a be-line straight for the pantie display. Her eyes were drawn to the black ones, the same color that Dean owned. She knew it would be hard to approach Dean with the subject but maybe if she started off with a pair that were simple she could ease him into it. Her fingers roamed across the fabrics looking for the softest ones she could find. Some she picked out were lace, satin or even a few silk ones. She decided to stay in the darker color range, picking maroons and blacks. That was until her eyes landed on a deep green pair. They nearly just screamed Dean at at her and what made them even better was they were a slightly sheer satin pair. A hum of excitement left her lips as she cradled the six pairs to her chest.
The rest of the time in town was all a blur after she checked out at the shop. All Claire wanted to do was get back to the bunker and show Dean the finds she had found. As she entered the bunker her arms full of food bags and the one delicate pink bag, she was practically buzzing in excitement.
“Food’s here.” Her voice rang excitedly across the bunker as she dumped the sacks onto the map table. The moment she saw Dean in her eye line, she held up the pink bag in her fingers. “I’ve got a new fun surprises.” She told him, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.
To say that Fawna was excited was an understatement. She felt like she was on cloud nine, fulfilling a childhood dream. She had always wanted to dress up to the nines and attend a glamours party where they only served finger foods and sparkling champagne. Although this was all just for a hunt, that didn’t make it any less exciting. In fact maybe that is what made it more fun.
Dean had invited her out on this hunt, part of her wondered if he knew how excited she’d get at the chance to play dress up for a little while. He had told her they were on the look out for a cursed object, a locket that someone had bought from an antique shop. She always felt bad for people who innocently stumbled upon the objects. They caused so much unnecessary damage. So this hunt was literally a blessing and a curse in Fawna’s mind.
Fawna had told the boys that she was going back to her shop to get potions just in case and spend a little time getting ready. That was a lie, she was spending every minute she had getting ready. She had bought the dress on a whim. It was an impulse buy but it was just beyond gorgeous there wasn’t anyway she couldn’t buy it. Originally it had just been the red satin dress, but Fawna had the idea to add the embellishments. The beading was a deep red to stand out upon the lighter red of dress. It made her so excited so finally be able to slide on the soft dress. Her hair was already pinned up in a low messy twist. She didn’t want to do too much to her hair and take away from how pretty the dress was. An excited squeal escaped her lips when she saw how the beads danced with the light they reflected off of them.
She knew the boys would be here soon, so she headed downstairs to her little shop to slip on her beaded red heels and get her bag together. One last touch was sliding a red lipstick over her plumped lips. One last look in the mirror had her smiling at herself, nearly jumping around in excitement.
Pulling out her phone from her little purse, Fawna texted Dean to tell him she was ready when he was.
WHO: Valentina Venturi + Dara Klein
WHEN: Friday November 18th, 2016
WHERE: La Jolla, CA - Valentina’s Huge Ass House
SUMMARY: Dara has been out of touch since the twitter and media blast about her sexuality has come out. She arrives at Val’s without prior notification and this is what happens.
WARNINGS: None, just get some tissues or be swoon ready. Valara is cute.
It’s been a long week following an eventful birthday for Dara Klein. She is exhausted and, in all honesty, could really use this weekend to be with her family. Her alarm woke her up around 5 am and she jumped straight in the shower, no time to check anything if she wanted to get to the airport on time. Once she did check her phone, in the car on the way to the airport, her stomach dropped to the floor. You see, when you’ve been closeted for such a long time, you no longer wake up every morning thinking it’ll be blasted all over the news. But there it was, all over the internet. She wastes no time in calling her agent, the only words coming out of her mouth being ‘deal with this’. Her next call is to Jourdan Dunn who insists that this isn’t a big deal and that she should go through things as planned, but Dara disagrees. She tells her to let the girls know she’ll be at Val’s and will contact them when she is ready. This is when the model turns off her phone and puts it in her luggage to be stowed far away from her while she is on the plane.
The airport is easier than expected, changing her flight to the first one out to San Diego instead of D.C. It’s expensive, but it’s easy. Dara spends the journey with sunglasses on and drinking an excessive amount of black coffee. The girl is a mess internally, but robotic externally. She tries to sleep, but mostly stares out the window until the wheels hit the ground.
It’s around 1 in the afternoon by the time Dara gets to the Venturi mansion. They’re stopped at the gate and all that Dara has to do is lower her sunglasses for them to know who she is. The driver parks near the front of the house and Dara still hasn’t cried. For most, this may seem normal, but for anyone that knows Dara Klein out of the spotlight, they know it’s definitely not. She should have been crying the entire way there.
Valentina, in the meantime, had been woken up at 8AM (California time) with a phone call from her executive assistant. The young woman is in a panic. So much so that Valentina has to tell her to take a breath before continuing explaining what’s went wrong. She begins to relay the events that have led to Valentina’s name being all over the internet. The CEO’s heart sinks through the floor. Dara being the only thing she can think of in that moment. True, the ‘old hag’ comment stings, but it’s still benign compared to things said about her Shark Tank persona. Her knee jerk thought is to get the lawyers involved, but she holds back; Dara is the one ultimately being wronged here. Valentina has never been shy about her sexuality, and suing someone over ‘old hag’ is just petty.
Immediately she tries to reach the model, but there’s no response. Texts go without read receipts, and calls straight to voicemail. Fearing the worst, Valentina next contacts Dara’s manager, who assuages her most irrational worries, and informs her that Dara has changed course for California. Valentina assumes nothing, and spends the next several hours fluctuating between worry and rage. Phone calls and emails begin to pour in, all of them concerning her involvement with the newly disgraced supermodel, and all of them go ignored. Again, Valentina tells her assistants and team to not give any comments.
When her security officer radios in to say that Dara is at the gates, Valentina rushes out the front door, standing in the driveway as the black car rolls to a stop in front of her. Before the driver is able to reach for Dara’s door, Valentina swats his hand away angrily, “Don’t.”, and throws open the door. Blindly, she grabs for the blonde, pulling Dara flush to her side, and they rush into the mansion, making a bee line for Valentina’s bedroom. Her staff could take care of the bags.
Dara is uncertain of how exactly to deal with the what’s happening. Despite having 6 or so hours on the plane to digest most of what had happened, it was still so fresh. Once they are inside of Valentina’s room, the blonde pulls her jacket off and climbs onto the woman’s bed. She extends her hand to beckon the older woman onto the bed and Valentina obliges, laying on her back in order for Dara to snuggle into her. She kisses the crown of Dara’s head and lingers. For a while, there is nothing said, until Dara breaks the silence.
“I’m sorry,” her words are quiet, but poignant. She means what she is saying and it’s the first step to her breaking apart. “I should have texted you and… this whole thing shouldn’t even involve you,” the tears come halfway through her sentence and she sniffles, allowing herself to cry for a little bit before continuing to unload her emotional state on Val.
“It’s okay, dolcezza mia.” Valentina whispers against Dara’s flaxen hair. “What’s important right now is that you’re safe.”
“I’m not even mad yet… I don’t know if I’m supposed to be, but I just didn’t really think this would ever happen,” Dara’s disbelief is heard through her tone of voice, muffled slightly by her crying. “What happens if I literally never get another campaign? Or even worse, like VS totally takes me off of their booking list for the show? A fucking dyke walking down the runway in lingerie. That’s adorable,” The blonde would never say such a thing if it were for her distress, though she is already starting to feel bad about it.
Valentina flinches at the choice of words, but remains silent; listening as Dara unloads her (very justified) anger. There’s a strong pull to argue the contrary to the doom and gloom Dara proselytizes, but Valentina ignores is; knowing it’s a moot point. Dara’s wounds are new and raw. So Valentina remains silent and the older woman’s arms instinctively tighten around Dara’s waist.
For a solid fifteen minutes or so, Dara goes back to not saying anything, tears doing the talking for the time being. She feels violated and guilty and hopeless. There are pieces of her that don’t care enough to fight and others that are ready to jump into battle.
Valentina doesn’t relent the strength of her hold on the model, feeling as though her arms are the only thing keeping the young woman together. Valentina chances a few kisses to Dara’s face and neck before she speaks again.
“My home is yours. Take the time you need to heal.” She cups Dara’s cheeks next, angling Dara’s face in order to look the model in the eye. “And don’t you dare apologize. This is no one’s fault but Sutton Rodgers. Not you. Not me. No one but her.” She leans down to kiss Dara’s lips softly, tears finally beginning to well in her eyes. “And I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”
The softness that Val is giving her makes Dara feel just a fraction better, which is to say something. The day has only gotten shoddier since this morning. She closes her eyes before humming softly. “I really hope not…” is all she can muster, her tears coming to a slow stop and her indifference resurfacing.
“Thank you,” she sits up a little too fast, her head spinning a bit, considering black coffee is all she has consumed today. Her hand on the bed steadies her. “This isn’t fair – to either of us, and I know this isn’t what you signed up for,” Dara runs her hand anxiously through her hair and wipes her eyes. “I’m still sorry, my love,” She is realizing the tears only stop momentarily now and they’re just beginning to find their way back. “I don’t know how to handle any of this and this was the first place I thought of coming and I’m entirely sorry. I promise I won’t be an inconvenience, I just can’t be completely alone and I didn’t have-“her chest is now heaving, her face in her hands, embarrassed at the way her emotions are surfacing. She chokes back multiple apologies, a couple slipping through as she fails to say what she needs to. That she doesn’t think she can get through this without Valentina by her side.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Valentina says in rapid succession, hand splayed against Dara’s chest. “Take a breath. Breathe in…” She waits as the model does so. “And out…” She pushes air from her lungs in step with Dara. “In…and out… There we go.” A pause. “I didn’t sign up for anything. You’re not some afternoon activity I engage in at my leisure. Don’t think for a second that I take this relationship as lightly as signing up for something. I wouldn’t have let you in through those gates if I saw this as something I could just…strike my name from the record of. But you came to me. And that is something I most certainly don’t take lightly.” A few tears roll down Valentina’s cheeks. “I will protect you and provide you with a safe place as you heal. In here,” She gestures with a small circling of her arm, “you don’t have to worry about what’s out there.” She points toward the window, and beyond that, the world outside of it. “And it’s very likely that people–your friends and loved ones–want to see you. If you don’t want to see them? They’re absolutely not getting past my security. That is a promise.”
Dara looks at Valentina. There is just something about this woman that feels like home to her, that feels so right to her. And for just one second, she feels like maybe it’s okay that this is what happened. That maybe it’s not all… and then it all gets flung away when her brain catches up to her heart. Something that often brought her back to earth. “I… Thank you,” she says, a smile trying to find its way onto her face. “I know I’m saying a lot of the same things and that my words are not as descriptive and well said as they usually are and I’m sorry for that,” she cringes slightly at the s word leaving her lips again, awaiting the chastising she may receive from her partner. “Just don’t let my mom in,” Dara rolls her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t ever come, but really just clarifying in case it did happen. The blonde couldn’t really bet on much as of late.
Valentina scrutinizes the model’s features closely, assuming that she’s likely not eaten, and has been running on emotions since this morning. It’s catching up with her. “I’m going to have Paula and Hank whip up something for us to eat for lunch. If you’re up to it, we can go eat downstairs, or I can have it brought up here…”
Nodding, Dara realizes that eating might be the right decision. It’s early in her grieving process and she’s feeling a lot, but she figures once the shock wears off, she will have plenty of time to eat in beds and not get up. “Let’s try downstairs…” she says this slowly, unsure. “I’m not entirely hungry though, so don’t ask me what I want.”
